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jujutsubaby · 2 months

Note

Hello my dear! Congrats for your achievment!✨

I’d like to play and I say:

Cafè Heaven and Hell.

I’d like to order a white mocha and take away a Macha Latte.

I’ll eat a mochi donut!🍩

Thank you very much! 🤗🌸

a/n: thanks for your ask 💓 yours was super fun to write and i hope you enjoy it hehe~ also guys i swear i don't hate gojo he’s just a male thot to me. also btw when i went to paris last year there was a male thot that served me at a cafe and so he’s just all i think about when i think of gojo and cafe au’s

✨ WELCOME TO CAFE HEAVEN & EARTH ! ✨

🤍 PAIRING. gojo

🤍 WORD COUNT. 1.3k (sorry i just love writing about male thots)

you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you enter your favorite cafe. work today had been complete hell, and you need a caffeine and sugar fix to give you the will to live this evening.

the cozy ambience of cafe heaven and earth instantly soothes you - the romantic low lighting, the smell of eucalyptus and coffee beans, and the low jazz music playing in the background settles over you.

after ordering your white mocha (as well as a mochi donut as an extra treat — you really deserve it today), you wander to your usual counter seat by the window and lean back with a relaxed sigh.

you had been so excited to start work at the prestigious zenin law firm, but just three months in, you were already feeling the first signs of burnout.

you usually like to go over documents from work during your coffee runs, but today, you just need to savor the moment. as soon as you sit back down, you close your eyes and take your long awaited sip of white mocha. as the sweet, rich liquid hits your tongue, you can’t help but almost moan in satisfaction.

your moment of calm is immediately ruined by an unfamiliar voice. “wow, that good, huh?”

you crack one eye open in annoyance to see a tall and muscular white haired man sitting a couple seats away from you. you’re taken aback by just how blue his eyes are - one glance and you find yourself sinking into its ocean blue. the next thing you notice (and you do feel a bit embarrassed about it but c’mon, you had a long day at work!) is how muscular and lean his arms are, his fingers playing his phone on the counter absentmindedly. it’s a wonder you didn’t notice him as soon as you got here.

remembering that he just interrupted your peace and quiet to ask a question, you respond, “the white mochas here are always the best.” in spite of how astoundingly handsome the stranger sitting near you is, you’re not really in the mood for a conversation, so you hope your tone dissuades him from continuing.

“yeah? can i get a sip?” he asks, a bit too fast for your liking.

“what??” you’re taken aback by his forward question and brash manner. how old is this guy, anyway? this is the kind of behavior you expect out of your ten year old nephew yuji, not a grown ass adult!

the man pouts in response. what was his deal?! model-worthy good looks or not, he was starting to wear on your already limited patience.

“maybe you could get your own drink?” you ask, trying to remain polite. “i’m kind of a germaphobe,” you lie. you don’t really care too much about sharing cups, but you really want this guy off your back. your precious relaxation time is limited!

“pleeease!!!!” he starts begging loudly, earning looks from surrounding cafe patrons. he notices you looking around self-consciously, and scrambles to the seat next to you so he can talk more quietly.

“please!” he repeats at a more socially acceptable volume. “i’ll drink from the other side, promise! you won’t even know my mouth was there!” god, was he irritating! (it certainly didn’t help that he was making you think about his mouth now, too.)

desperate for this stranger to leave you be, you decide to let him have what he wants. then he’d leave you alone, right? you kind of doubt it, but it’s worth a try anyway.

“ok, ok! fine.” you slide the ceramic mug towards him, and he has the audacity to look smug as he clasps the mug between his hands. you absolutely do not notice how long and elegant his fingers look curled around the drink.

“down the hatch!” he chirps as he lifts the mug to his lips.

you soon find out that the two of you have radically different definitions of the word “sip”. to him, a sip means gulping down half the mug, apparently. you watch wistfully as the drink you had so been looking forward to begins to disappear before your eyes.

when he puts the mug back down, his smug expression is replaced with an exaggerated grimace. “ewww, how do you drink that stuff?? it’s so bitter!”

as you seethe to yourself, he darts his tongue out to swipe away at some foam left on his lips (which you are pointedly not paying attention to), before continuing. “i’m gojo, by the way.”

“it’s not bitter,” you say through gritted teeth. “it’s the best espresso in town, and one of the sweetest drinks they offer. besides, couldn’t you have decided that you hated it before you drank half the damn thing? what’s your problem, man?”

“i told you, my name’s gojo!” the man starts to whine again, but seeing your animosity, he changes his tune quickly. “ok, sorry, sorry! i didn’t mean to annoy you! listen, why don’t you get yourself another drink on me?” he reaches into his pocket and pulls a shiny credit card from his wallet, handing it to you with an air of penitence.

“really? thanks, gojo. that’s surprisingly decent of you,” you reply. you start to feel a little guilty for almost losing it at this complete stranger. his guilelessness, while annoying, is maybe almost even starting to charm you.

“uh, maybe while you’re up there, you could also pick me up a drink that’s not a complete pukefest too?” he asks, fluttering his fluffy white eyelashes at you. upsettingly, your stomach does giddy somersaults at the sight, which you studiously ignore.

you sigh and roll your eyes. “all right, pretty boy, what’s your drink?”

“oh, they’ll know,” he replies with a wink. “the gojo special — hot cocoa with strawberry milk mixed in. best drink on the planet.”

you wrinkle your nose. “that sounds disgusting, but sure.” you head to the order counter for a second time, looking down at the card he entrusted you with as you wait in line.

damn, a black card? he’s annoying AND rich? pick a struggle. nonetheless, you weren’t one to pass off another drink, especially at his expense. you go up to the counter and decide on ordering matcha latte and his wretched drink order. the barista looks at you with distaste after ordering it, before sighing and ringing you up. great, now you can never come to this place ever again.

it doesn’t take long for your drinks to come out carefully make your way to the seat. you notice he’s dusting his hands on his thighs.

“alright, you weirdo, here’s your-” you stop mid sentence as you place the drinks on the table and notice there’s a huge bite taken out of your mochi donut. your precious mochi donut. you glance at gojo, then back at the donut, and then back his hands which still had remnants of frosting on top.

“did you…did you just take a bite out of my donut while i was gone?” you say incredulously.

“what?”

“i know you heard me.” your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “do you just always take bites out of random people’s food? who raised you?!” you’re in awe of someone who has social skills like this.

“don’t worry about it, kitten,” he purrs, and you hate that your heart beats faster at his nickname for you. “i’ll just buy you another one. i’ll buy you a dozen right now.”

you sigh. “okay, fine.” you end up ordering a box of mochi donuts against your better judgment. even worse is that you…actually had a good time with him? you can’t remember the last time you were this annoyed but laughed this much.

“by the way, you gonna be here tomorrow?” he asks with his mouth full of the last mochi donut. ugh, you shouldn’t find this attractive, but you do.

“yeah.” you say, before you have time to change your mind. you take out a pen from your tote and quickly scribble your number on a napkin. common sense be damned, you think to yourself on the bus as you find yourself yearning to see that color blue again.

#☕️ coffee break #🪅 pree's follower events #100 #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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etherealzx · 1 year

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may i have hc, story or whatever you want of bucciarati adopting an emotionless child? regardless of the lack of emotion they are still a precious little bean to him and how would the gang react as a big brother (maybe second dad for abbacchio lol). thank you 😊

awwwww this is so wholesome <3 i love mama bruno

also i'm ngl i struggled with this prompt a little bit! i hope it's not too bad!!

Bucciarati Adopting a Child who Doesn't Show Emotion!

bruno has always wanted to adopt a child. since his childhood wasn't the greatest, he's always had a soft spot for children in need

he's very maternal in nature, feeling the urge to take care of others and nurture them. that's why he makes such a great father/father figure

when he finally is able to adopt a child of his own, he is overjoyed. to him, that child is the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world

if the child seemed nervous at all about their new home, bruno would be sure to reassure them that everything was going to be okay, and that he would take care of them

when the rest of the gang finds out, they're extremely excited

when bucciarati first brings the child to meet the rest of the gang, he is surprised to see that the child doesn't show much emotion. they just kind of sit there with wide eyes, glancing around the room at everyone

at first, the gang found the child's complete lack of emotion a little strange. but over time, they came to accept and love them for it

abbacchio definitely was wary at first. he tries to act like he hates kids and finds them annoying, but in reality, he actually loves kids and has always wanted them.

it took a while for abbacchio to warm up to the idea of having a kid to look after.

it didn't take long for him to warm up though. soon enough, he was carrying them around on his back, making sure they were fed, and tucking them in to bed at night.

bruno and abbacchio are both father/parental figures for the child. they love them more than anything, and they know that the love is reciprocated, even if the child doesn't show it.

mista and narancia would always try to make them laugh, or try to get them to join in on their stupid pranks

mista and narancia always make sure that the kid felt included and was having fun, even if they don't show it physically

fugo would make sure to help the child learn new things, and help them with their school work. as bad as his temper can be, he is surprisingly patient with the child. like bucciarati, he feels a soft spot for the kid. he wants to be a good role model and a teacher to them, so they don't end up living a life like he did in the past

fugo doesn't mind their lack of emotion at all, if anything, he enjoys it. it's a bit of peace and quiet for him compared to the other members of his team

giorno is somewhat similar to the child, in the way that he doesn't really express his emotions

he can pick up on signals easily though, and can tell when the child is content or not

he always tries to smile and be a positive influence for them, telling them that anything they dream of is possible and to never give up on what's important

every single one of the members of bucciarati's gang would do absolutely anything to protect them. they've all come to love the kiddo in their own ways, and would never let anything happen to them. they're like a big happy family :)

#bucci gang x reader #bucciarati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno bucciarati headcanons #bucci gang headcanons #vento aureo #golden wind #golden wind headcanons #vento aureo headcanons #jjba #jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba headcanons #jojo headcanons #jojo imagine #jjba imagine #anime #anime x reader #self insert

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berystraw · 3 months

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Love Leaves Scars: New hope

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: none

Pairing: oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 1.8k

Note: FINALLY, THE FIRST CHAPTER IS RELEASED! I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter. I wanted you all to meet Verity before the boys get mentioned! It's been a while since I last created a story, so please bear with me!!! I promise to try and update faster next time😔

As a child, I was never doted on. So clearly, being independent and acting older despite such a young age would become the result of it. "No Rosewood was once a child." My father would always say to me. Thus, living alone at the age of 18 never became a problem.

" 'Not a problem,' you say, look at this mess, Veri!" The high-pitched voice of Asnid echoes in the room. "This is not a mess, Asnid," I tell her, swatting her hand from grabbing the papers scattered on my desk. "Will you look at this place, Verity? It's a total jungle in here. I don't understand how you call this your 'ideas room'," Asnid says, crossing her arms in front of her and putting on a disapproving look.

To me, she looked hilarious. I could never take her glares seriously with how small she looked. She looked like an oompa loompa trying to prevent you from taking their precious cacao beans. No offence, Asnid.

"It's organised for me," I snickered at her. The way she rolled her eyes and scoffed in irritation caused a small laugh to pass through my lips.

"I couldn't stay here anymore, goodbye!" She huffs in defeat before stomping out the door and towards the kitchen. To be honest, the whole place is a mess. But for some unknown reason, it helps me think more. Constantly worrying about the organization is much more infuriating than having a messy place.

I clenched my eyes shut and took deep breaths to calm me down and clear my head. I grab my headphones from my desk and place them on my head. A playlist I made to help me concentrate on my work blaring in my ears. I grab my drawing pencil and my sketchpad to sketch my desired portrait, the music drowning out all the noises that would prevent me from focusing. For once, I felt calm and relaxed.

I hardly noticed the time and how late it was not until Asnid told me it was almost midnight. As soon as I peeked at my clock, I immediately realized how tired I was. Without a second thought, I gathered the materials used and secured the painting I'd be presenting to my art professor. I bid Asnid good night before retiring to my bedroom.

A sigh escaped my lips as I finally felt the relaxing comfort of my bed. I close my eyes in hopes of removing all possible thoughts that would disrupt my peaceful sleep, and with one final sigh, I let sleep envelop me in its warm, soothing embrace.

I could feel the sun peeking through my blinds and hitting my skin. The birds quietly chirp from outside. My bed felt so warm and cosy to the point that I barely even wanted to get up. I opened my eyes and allowed myself a few moments to adjust to the lighting before looking over my shoulder to check the time. 8:34.

"Verity!" As if on cue, my bedroom door flies open, revealing Asnid with her hair looking like a literal bird's nest and still in pyjamas. We both stared at each other with wide eyes. "WE'RE LATE!" We both yelled out loud. Asnid ran out and ran to her bedroom while I jumped off my bed and ran towards my bathroom. I could hear the clock ticking with every passing second, which made me even more agitated. With 15 minutes remaining, I dashed out of my bedroom and school clothes all disordered. My skirt was sideways, half of the buttons on my blouse were unbuttoned, and my tie was just messily thrown around my neck. My backpack gripped in hand, I sprinted towards my ideas room and grabbed my painting before leaving.

"Everything ready?" I asked Asnid, who was frantically fixing her hair in the mirror near the door. She nodded her head, and we both ran towards her car. "Don't go too fast, you might crash," I tell her while buckling my seat belt. She gives me a nod before driving out of the driveway.

My heart pounds against my chest. 1 minute. I run as fast as I can. My legs burn as I continue to run to the art room. I silently pray that I make it in time. "Almost there," I tell myself while panting. I ran down the hallway to the art room before one of the doors opened, and Ms Hudgins, the English professor, walked out with a cup of coffee in hand and a stack of papers in the other.

Before I could even stop myself, I collided with her. Everything felt like it was in slow-mo. Her papers and cup of coffee were thrown in the air with my canvas. She let out a scream while we both fell to the floor. I watch as Ms. Hudgin's coffee spills on the canvas and the floor.

I sat on my heel and stared at the now-ruined painting in pain. My chances of getting into Yale were ruined.

"Miss Rosewood! What were you thinking running in the halls!" Miss Hudgin's piercing voice echoes throughout the hallway. I open my mouth to answer her, to give her a valid reason, but nothing comes out. Not even a single sound. I continue to stare at my ruined painting. What am I going to tell Mr. Rivera?

After Miss Hudgings had calmed down, she only gave me a warning to not run in the halls and ordered me to clean up the mess in the hallway to which I obeyed not wanting to get into more trouble than I already was. I walked into the art room with my shoulders slouched and a blank expression.

Mr. Rivera stops midway through his sentence. From what I understood, he was explaining the result of our last project for his class. The last project that I just ruined mere moments ago. He turns his attention to me just like everyone else.

"Miss Rosewood, glad you could join us today," His voice didn't hint at any kind of sarcasm or disappointment. His usual soft and kind smile plastered on his face. Mr. Rivera had been teaching at Branford College for over 30 years now, and his experience could be seen in his features. For a 50-year-old teacher, he still looked 10 years younger. A few wrinkles adorned his face, and all of them became very evident when he smiled, which is very often.

Most teachers at his age are strict and harsh towards their students, but he was the exact opposite. He was kind and gentle towards his students, which was the reason why he was so loved by his students not only by the art majors.

"Please sit down, Miss Rosewood. Ah! Before that, may I please see your artwork?" He asked, extending his hand. My heart clenches because of this. "I'm sorry, I don't have it," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I thought that I didn't even say it with how quiet it was.

"What did you say, dear?" He asks, lowering his head slightly to reach my height. "I don't have it," I say a little louder this time. He looks directly into my eye and gives a nod. "Stay after class, Verity. Let's worry about your project later," He instructed and gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze before allowing me to take my seat.

He goes back to talking while I take my seat. I felt uncomfortable. It felt like there were thousands of eyes looking at me right now. I hear them talking in whispers, which I try to drown out. I try not to look at any of them for fear of seeing their faces. I could just imagine it. Their faces turn into an expression that gives away their thoughts about you. Their disappointment and disgustment.

Later on, the bell rings, indicating the end of the subject. Students around me gather their things while I continue to sit in my seat, barely moving and paying attention to anything or anyone. As soon as the last student walks out the door, I stand up and walk over to Mr. Rivera. "Sir," I start, but he just raises his hand, signalling me to stop, and I do.

"What happened, Verity?" He asked, and I lowered my head in shame. I could hear the disappointment in his voice now. "You said you were almost done when I last asked you about your progress. What happened?" My lips tremble, and I fear that if I speak, the tears that are threatening to fall from my eyes will all come running down my face.

"I am quite disappointed, Verity," He says. There it is. The words that I feared he would say. My heart drops to my stomach. Disappointment is an understatement. "I'm sorry," I sobbed while bringing my hand to stop the tears from flowing down but failed miserably. Mr. Rivera took a box of tissues out of his drawers and pushed them towards me, which I thankfully took. "I finished it, I promise. It's just that I woke up late, and then I crashed into Ms. Hudgins and her coffee went all over the canvas," I explained. It was hard to speak with all the sobs and hiccups that kept escaping my mouth. I bet I looked pathetic crying in front of him.

There was a moment of silence on his end. The only thing that could be heard in the room was my sniffling and the occasional hiccups. "I believe that you have finished your project in time, Miss Rosewood. Accidents are bound to happen," He comforted me. He lets out a sigh before continuing, "I am giving you the chance to prove yourself worthy of receiving the same grade I would have given you if you had passed your last project," my head jerks up at his words. "R-really?" I asked him, not believing his words. "Yes, but if you think this is some easy project, you have gravely mistaken," He adds.

"I am giving you until the end of the school year to pass a painting that answers this question, "Who are you?". If you succeed in answering this question, then you shall pass, but if not, you are to have a failed mark on your card. Do you understand me, Miss Rosewood?" I smiled and nodded, accepting his challenge. "You may leave now, Miss Rosewood. You wouldn't want to miss lunch, do you?" Mr. Rivera says. I smiled brightly at him before packing my things to leave.

Hope washed over me at the thought that I would still be able to get into Yale. I walk towards the cafeteria and eat with Asnid.

The rest of the day was all a blur to me. All that I could ever think of was what to do for my project. I wouldn't let Mr. Rivera down. Not this time.

As Asnid and I arrived at our apartment hours later. I was beyond exhausted that I faceplanted myself on the living room couch as soon as we both got in. "Hey Vers," Asnid taps on my shoulder. I hummed in response, not in the mood to lift my head from the couch.

"You got a letter,"

"From who," my voice muffled by the couch's cushion.

"Tobias Hawthorne,"

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soonsweetheart · 21 days

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Coffee Beans

“Mom…MOMMY COME ON,” I whined, tugging her through the aisles of the grocery store. Of all the boring places to be, this had to be the worst. However, there was one aisle I had loved going to as a child: the coffee aisle.

She groaned playfully and followed behind, holding onto my hand firmly, “Okay okay! I’m coming.”

The second we reached the beautifully assorted rows of coffee beans, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, savoring every scent, “Mmmmm.”

I missed times like these, being a kid and having my mother’s attention all to myself. Only in my dreams were these beautiful memories able to be relived. Typically, I would’ve loved to stay in these dreams forever, living in a simpler time.

But then there was him.

His soft voice broke through my dreams, encouraging me to open my eyes and awaken me from the wonderful fantasy.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was so pure, so gentle and comforting in itself. My eyes slowly opened to meet his and there they were, the same deep, rich color of the pools of coffee I found in his eyes.

“Daddy,” I whispered, already smiling. Something about this, just waking up in his embrace was even sweeter than the sunrise.

“Good morning,” he smiled back, the soft pad of his fingertip lightly poking my nose. “You were snoring, so I woke you up.”

The smile on my lips instantly turned into a pout, “Nuh uh. Liar,” I grumbled.

His soft laughter rang throughout the peaceful silence, melting away any real annoyance I might’ve held. “Baby, you know I don’t lie.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled, but even now, I couldn’t help but smile once again. My limbs lazily fell to the sides as I pushed myself out of bed, craving the taste from my dreams. “Want some coffee?”

“Coffee?” he tilted his head, as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

“Uhh…yes? Coffee,” I laughed, confused at his response.

He didn’t reply for a minute, as if he were in deep thought, before giving a small nod, “Yes, I would like to try it.”

“Try it..? As in…you’ve never had it?” I replied, deeply confused. I guess I’d assumed him being Him, he would’ve experienced everything. But then again, he was human.

“Never,” he confirmed.

I shouldn’t have been so surprised, or at least have tried to hide my visible shock, but it only brought about that beautiful, musical laughter of his once more.

So of course, I took it upon myself to share with him my favorite blend.

The sweet aroma of the coffee brewing into the pot reminded me of my dream, the comforting touch of my mother’s hand. It was just like him. Safe. Sweet. Warm.

“Ready?” I smiled, pouring him a cup just way I liked it. The mug kept my freezing fingers from aching, as did his smile.

“Ready,” he whispered, bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip in sync with my own.

This was perfect. Sharing a cup of coffee with my favorite person in the world.

I couldn’t gauge his reaction, not initially, but after a few seconds of him gazing into the pool of coffee in his mug, his eyes met mine, “It’s quite good.”

I didn’t know that he was enjoying my presence more than the flavor, or that the mere act of making him a cup of coffee, in his eyes, was such a delicate and precious act of service for him.

Yet the only thing on my mind was the relief in knowing that he liked it. “Yay! I’m so glad,” I exclaimed.

I could tell he was thinking about something, something sweet, something that made his eyes a little brighter. Richer. Warmer. Like the shade of coffee in his eyes.

“Yeah, me too.”

Bonus!

Did you know that Jesus never actually got to drink coffee? He lived in the Middle East where coffee beans were not introduced until the 1200’s. This also means he didn’t get to try corn, tomatoes, sugar cane, tea, and chocolate.

However, according to the Bible and other historical sources, we learn that some of the foods Jesus might have enjoyed were bread, fish, grapes, figs, olive oil, olives, and various vegetables!

#coffee #coffee beans #coffee break #coffee lover #jesus #jesus loves you #jesus loves us #jesusisgod #faith in jesus #lovejesus #christian faith #jesusislord #jesussaves #belief in jesus #christian living #faith in god

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iamlostsomewhereinthegarden · 2 years

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Pharaoh Atem Headcannons

This was originally supposed to be an attempt at yandere so if such things seem that way or if yandere is said you know why. I’m just too lazy to revise it.

* You were one of his many attendees raised to be his servant

* You’ve been there from since he can remember

* You were born two years after him though

* He liked you best due to you being the closest in age to him and he felt like he had to take care of you since you’re younger than him and the youngest of all the attendants

* Starts out as a platonic yandere

* Like you being the only one to hang out with him

* You wouldn’t do any heavy work

* Actually you technically never worked

* All you did was keep him company and entertained

* Literally attached out the hip with how much he keeps you by him

* Guy is obsessed so bad

* You guys sleep in the same bed and everything

* Baths together and the attendees have to bathe you too under his order

* Not even a concubine or lover but you get treated as one

* No one was allowed to bad talk you in his presence

* And if they tried to harm you may Ra bless their souls

* As he grows older he realizes that he loves you

* And despite being a romantic yandere now there’s no major difference in how you are treated

* When his father dies you’re no longer one of his attendees

* Since it’s frowned upon for slaves and high ranking people to be together can’t you become a concubine

* But you’re a concubine only in title, you’re treated like a queen and basically are one

* And no, not as a gendered thing like you have to be female

* He has your as his queen as a king needs one as he’s told

* He was considering getting a stand in queen to protect you

* But I’m the canon story he doesn’t have a lover so we’ll just say he either didn’t go with the idea or died before it happened

* You’re great friends with everyone in the palace

* So like Mahad, Mana, even Ancient dick Seto

* You’re given a special Millenium item so that you will stay with Atem forever and also has healing properties

* Low and behold your reincarnation is besties with yugi since birth and has the millennium item also

* And because Atem is not in the afterlife but instead in the puzzle you’re stuck in your millennium item also

* Ancient Egyptian Bakura is your cousin

* Calls you Pharoh’s whore to your face

* But he’s a tsundere platonic yandere and will do almost anything to make you happy

* Only partners up with the pharaoh to protect you and make you happy

* Honestly just harasses the pharaoh instead of trying to kill him due to not wanting to make you sad cause you love the pharaoh

* Ryou is also your reincarnation’s cousin

* Despite not remembering working with the pharaoh to make you happy Y!Bakura lowkey does the same but denies it

* Remembers ancient you though so is heavily protective of new you along with Ryou despite Yugi being a nice bean

* You’re just a precious bean tbh so everyone loves you

* You died trying to defend the Pharaoh

* Also another reason for Bakura to have a grudge against the pharaoh

* You get along well with your reincarnation

* You help them calm down, think rationally, be strong and be a good supporter

* You and Tea get along well, and so does your reincarnation

* She ships your reincarnation and yugi so much before the puzzle even came around

* Everyone did from since elementary

* Jonouchi actually had a crush on you while he bullied Yugi

* Since Atem and you are linked you remember just as much as he does with the exception of people and how close your guys are

* Like you remember who Y!Bakura is/should be to you

* Heavily oblivious also

* When Atem went to the afterlife you went with him too

* You just live a happy and peaceful life being the mediator with Tea and having fun with the gang

* Oh, I forgot

* Seto Kaiba thinks you’re adorable and treats your reincarnation as a sister along with Mokuba

* No one thinks it’s fair but at the same time does think it’s fair

* Seto helps your reincarnation a lot

* Like you too

* Listens to you lol

* In DSOD he came to the afterlife dimension and shit to hang with you first then duel Atem

* Speaking of the afterlife

* I’m happy that I get to write another happy ever after cause that’s what happened to the two of y’all

* You and Atem are in the afterlife “living” it out and being happy

#gn reader #gn!reader #headcannons #yugioh #Atem headcannons #pharaoh atem #ryou bakura #jonouchi katsuya #yugi mutou #yami yugi #yami bakura #tea gardner #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #reincarnation #Egyptian

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c-c-v · 10 months

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Not me totally having(what i call)a precious bean of a Serpentine oc, Venobrai who lives topside of Ninjago City instead of under it and works in a little apartment complet/inn/bar, just trying to get by from the cities dislike of Serpentine and 'never trust a snake' bis, because she was a exiled/abandoned hybrid hatchling which were big no-nos as dis was before the tribes alliance in peace :3

I need to make accurate/better arts for mah bean-

#silly lil oc thing #ninjago oc #ninjago serpentine #ninjago au #ninjago serpentine oc #fun little backstory or plot #snake bean

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my-name-is-jefferooni · 6 months

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Do any of you know about The Sega Scourge? The Sonic Theorist??

I spontaneously remembered a What If video he started of Espio being raised by the Deadly Six and since he’s currently on hiatus, I thought… “WELL HOW WOULD THIS VERSION OF ESPIO HANDLE BEING TREATED NORMALLY BY THE CHAOTIX AFTER ESCAPING LOST HEX???”

Now I will admit, it’s been quite a while since I last saw the video and I’ve already started typing, (Will likely get all progress erased if I click out of the tab) so I’ll keep my thoughts brief, watch the video again, then come back and add in some extra bits.

So, I’m imaging their first real mission as something that Espio takes completely seriously, putting all his effort and devotion into it. Because during his time with the Deadly Six, he had no time for rest or relaxation, no time for himself. He only had time for training, honing his skills, and proving his worth as a member of their clan. (Tribe???? Pack????? Who fuccin cares even) And after a lot, and I mean a LOT of pushing from the others, he’ll finally start loosening up a little bit.

Charmy at first will be a bit oblivious to Espio’s terrible habits and will just think of it as cool and badass to be so muscular and devoted all the time. He’ll notice a few little things here and there though, like how Espio refuses to eat more than a few bites at breakfast, or how he seems to still be up all night training. Or how sometimes he’ll just disappear without a trace, and return three days later with multiple scars all over his body and a chip on his tusk and his eyes clearly drooping with exhaustion… But he doesn’t dwell on it. This is Espio! The world’s coolest and best detective/ninja in all the galaxy! He’s fine, surely! …Right…?

Vector, being the only mature adult/dad of the group, would instantly pick up on Espio’s self-deprecating habits and do his best to put a stop to it all. He’ll try pressuring Espio into eating more food, will try to set a strict bedtime for him, will start blowing up at him for his week-long outings… But then he’ll immediately feel bad and apologize profusely for his actions. It doesn’t really make Espio feel any better, and it doesn’t make too big an impact, but as Espio slowly starts getting used to the two roommates he ends up bunking with, he eventually does what he’s told. Vector sticks by him the most, just wanting to keep this precious new bean of his safe and sound. No one touches his kids while he’s around, that’s for sure!

And while Knuckles isn’t technically a member of the Chaotix in my eyes, he is a childhood friend of their and was probably the stealth guy in their group before Espio materialized in their lives. So he gets included here too.

Knuckles would be kinda on the fence about Espio at first, claiming that he’s just doing what he does for attention and doesn’t actually care for the others. And at the beginning, that’s at least partially true. But when he starts to get to know Espio, (As much as he can with how quiet the guy is) he actually notices that none of it was ever an act, and will then try to make Espio feel more welcome. He’ll be pretty overprotective and apologetic, kind of like Vector, but not ramped up to the extreme. And by the time Espio has recovered from his traumatic experience with the Deadly Six, the two have a close bond that cannot be challenged. They’re tried and true besties through and through, their senses of justice and peace harmonizing.

And that’s basically it. Ima come back to this later on if I wanna, but it’s getting late now so I’ll just watch the video and go from there. Thanks for reading!

#I can guarantee at least one of you reading this right now knows of the Sega Scourge #Bro was fucking INFAMOUS back in the day #Back when I wasn’t even in the Sonic fandom I’d still regularly watch his theory videos and like. Take notes in my brain.#They were some of the happiest moments on the internet for me as a young impressionable 8 year old 😊#blog/ask stuff

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ditttiii · 3 years

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gold rush. || kth {m}

⇢ summary: kim taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. all narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is everyone’s dream. after months of sharing an elevator with the man who makes your heart race until you can scarcely breathe when the chance finally comes; are you willing to risk it all for his touch?

⇢ genre: porn with feelings, soft smut, angst, is unresolved tension and feelings a genre?

⇢ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

⇢ word count: 4.4k

⇢ rating: explicit / 18+

⇢ theme: strangers to lovers, s2l!au

⇢warning/s: public/elevator sex, exhibitionism, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (female receiving), lots of kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex? reader’s on the pill, swearing, tension and so much of it, unresolved-repressed feelings, taehyung is a certified dingus & reader is hopelessly smitten.

⇢ a/n: betaed by @yeojaa who owns my heart and is the most precious bean ever.

also have all my virtual, socially distanced cuddles @btsmosphere @papillonsgf @birbdae & @unoriginal-username15432. if it weren’t for their support this wouldn’t be out today. my gratitude knows no bounds ♡ also big thanks to taylor for the fic title.

banner by @chillingkoo & moodboard by @today-we-will-survive their art breathed life into this fic ♡ a belated birthday fic for one mr.kim taehyung & the beautiful @kerikaaria. this fic is also my submission for @thebtswritersclub january monthly project.

lastly, i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy it x 2021 here v go ♡

You wonder when the shame stopped making you hide behind a curtain of messy bed hair. When the smell of a man's cologne on you and a fruity fragrance on him started to feel normal; routine.

The elevator closes with a 'ping', and your eyes track the numbers as they descend, the warmth of another human, the soft puffs of his breath, warming your shivering, scantily dressed body.

"What happened to ‘she’s too old for me?’ " You grunt, slipping off your six inches of agony inducing footwear and pushing them to a corner.

"What happened to you not being jealous?" You can feel his smirk, oozing of self-assured nonchalance and smugness that would seem ugly on anyone but fits like a well-tailored suit on him. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he leans back, hands resting on the metal railing while his tall, lean body slouches lazily, almost invitingly, and you have to force your eyes away from tracing the curves of his pecs. It's a tempting sight, but you aren't about to give him any more ammo to goad you with. As it is, he already knows too much, is far too keen.

"Of your sugar mama? I don't think so."

Taehyung hums but doesn't refute the statement and the silence between you two stretches on. A burning ball of jealousy in your stomach continues to eat away at your peace, and with a clenched jaw, you allow your head to rest against the cool metal of the elevator and pretend that the proximity doesn't affect you.

It's always the same between you two, a constant game of tug and war, where one pulls too firmly, and then the other comes tumbling close until one of you comes back to your senses and then it's back to square one. Back to bickering and recounting the previous night’s escapades of half-truths and lies told from kiss-swollen lips and hooded gazes as you try your best to rile the other one up.

It's stupid. You are in your twenties and this isn't like you. The lying, the pretence that you are still seeing your ex-boyfriend and biting and sucking your own lip until it swells; until you look properly ravished; none of this is you.

You should have known the day he first stumbled into the elevator with a half-buttoned shirt and bite marks painted over the pale skin of his neck, a satisfied smirk curled on his dark pink lips, that he wasn't good for you. But no, like the absolute fool that you are, you fell for him. Fell knowing full well he wasn't yours to have, that back then you weren't his to have.

The elevator comes to a stop with a shudder. Your eyes, closed sometime during the descent, snap open and your feet pause when the sight of the closed doors grace you.

"You stopped the elevator." It's not a question, not when his hand is still hovering over the stop button, head tilted as his eyes stay trained on you.

"I did." He admits to a question you never asked.

Biting back a hiss at his insistence on being difficult, you twist on your heels, lips pulled into a smile whose edges sting like shards of a broken glass and parry, "And why did you do that, pray tell?"

He doesn't answer, just looks at you with that half-lidded gaze and his silence only infuriates you more, makes the back of your neck feel heated as an angry flush rises from your chest all the way up to your cheeks and with a few angry stomps you’re in Taehyung's space, barely a few inches left between you two.

"God!" You start, and the anger, the jealousy, the ugly ball of insecurity and lust and something you haven't quite found a name for yet all coagulate and rise up your throat, burning your heart in their wake until you are hurting and seething. “I don’t get you, nor do I want to anymore!" The words tumble out, one after another and half thought out but your chest still burns and the ugly ball still feels scorching hot in your throat and you can't bring yourself to stop, to shut up and think. "Stop doing this. Stop flirting with me and stop looking at me with those hooded eyes of yours and for the love of god, do you really need to lick your lip that often? Why don't you carry a lip balm if your lips are that dry, huh?"

The cross of your eyes is almost painful, but you have started and fuelled by anger and unreciprocated feelings there’s no stopping your steam. "And now this! Stopping the elevator! What the hell is this supposed to mean?" His lips part as if to answer but without waiting for his response, you plow on, "What! Do you actually have an answer? Really? Let's face it; you think I’m some sort of challenge that needs to be conquered. Another notch on your bedpost. You and your stupid smirks and half-lidded eyes and that damn mole on your nose and god, can you just not—"

The soft pad of his finger on your lips pauses your rant, leaves them parted and your heart hammering while unsaid words clutter the hollow spaces in your throat, tighten around your vocal cords like a noose until they become their own nemesis.

"I broke up with her last night," Taehyung says, and from where you are standing so close to him, his breath on your neck, cheeks, lips is too enchanting, too much like something you had hoped and begged and prayed for far too long now. Breathing out harshly you blink yourself back to reality because you must be hearing him wrong.

"Huh?"

His hand slowly comes up to hold your chin, thumb running over your lower lip with a feather-like touch, "I broke up with her last night, went home and came back early because I didn't want to miss you." He says, and your chest feels tight, palms numb and it's only when his hand gently settles over the nape of your neck and you inhale painfully that you realise that you had stopped breathing.

"Why?" You rasp out.

Don't hope. This means nothing. Do not hope.

Something twists in your belly, a thread tightens around your heart, and you know, despite it all, that you are hoping.

"Why do you think?" He asks instead, and you stifle the sudden desire to bash his head into a wall.

"Don't play games with me."

A sigh, his breath dancing on your lips and you barely suppress the tingles that burn down your spine, "I'm not. I don't want to, not anymore." The hand resting around your neck curls, fingers caressing the soft skin behind your ear.

"What do you want then?" Your words are quiet, hope and longing laced into every syllable that you desperately hope to hide but fail.

Your heart hammers into your ribs with so much force you are half afraid it will leave them cracked; splintered just like your love for the man who is touching you, holding your entire heart in the palm of his hands while you wait for it to be crushed. Because it will, it's inevitable. Kim Taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. All narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is too good. Too good for the woman he was with and certainly too good for you. You would be happy if you looked half as good on your wedding day as he regularly does because he is that gorgeous. And unreal, and pretty and it hurts.

It hurts because you can never have him and any second now he will push you away and ridicule you for getting flustered so easily and he will never understand, and god it cuts. It tears at you because despite knowing better, you long for him, his touch, his warmth.

Maybe even his love. But that is one hope you refuse to acknowledge out loud.

Your breaths mingle from where you two are standing so close, and part of you aches to reach out, to pull him closer and wrap yourself around him until you can sync the beat of your heart to his, to nestle your face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in, drown in the scent of that spicy cologne that you associate with him and nobody else. Because it's tempting, oh so inviting and he is so so close.

You could touch his chest, caress the skin peeking from in between the dip of his low neck shirt and it would be easy, he would let you, you know that too but what about after? How do you come back from holding someone your soul is in love with and then pretend that being with them for one night was enough? How does your hope keep living on in the name of that fragment of love? His arms your shelter for one night and then you are back to being strangers, sharing elevators and bumping into each other at the grocery store, pretending all the while that you do not yearn to visit that one night you spent together whenever your head hits the pillow?

"I..." Taehyung struggles, chews the words before his lips form them because this is his last chance and if he loses you now, it's over; he knows that too. The pair of you are done playing cat and mouse.

"I know my words don't hold a whole lot of value. I could promise you things, but you won't believe me and that's fair. I get it." He admits, another hand coming up until your face is cradled in his open palms, fingers slipping behind the edges of your ears and you will yourself to not drop your gaze, to look into his eyes and search for...love? Honesty? You wish you could say you know what it is that you are hunting for, but held so close all you can think about is the chestnut brown of his eyes, the black that rims them, the high arched brows and the thin, smooth lips and that mole; that mole that you can only see when you are pressed close, a hair's breadth of space between you two.

"But...?" You ask, pray, and yet again, against your better judgement hope.

"But I love you." He confesses, voice forever rich and deep and you feel the hum of his baritone from where your chest is still pulled tight to his. "My love for you is unlike any I have ever known, and it scared me; it still scares me because I don't know. I don't know what I will do if I ever lose you. I care too much, I—" His grip on you tightens and instinctively your hands snake around his waist, clenching the soft cotton of his shirt, nails biting into your skin as his words thread your hopelessly lovesick heart back together; piece by piece.

"I love you too much." Taehyung whispers and the ice around your heart thaws, his raw confession lighting a fire in your nerves until you are left buzzing from the high of his admission. "Trust me. Just this once. Please." He is vulnerable in his plea, and for the first time you wonder if you had characterised him wrong. Boxed and stored him like a gift on a shelf without bothering to look underneath the paper wrapping.

Taehyung doesn't have to beg, he doesn't have to try and persuade anyone, and for all the gibes you threw his way, all the daggered words about him dating only for money, you didn't truly believe any of them. Sure, the woman he had been with for the last few months was older (a voice in your head whispers wiser), but that wasn't because she was, as you would often insist, his 'sugar mama', but instead because their interests aligned. Kim Taehyung is a man of taste, whether it be his fondness for a violin's trill, fascination with modern art, or his love for jazz music. He is an enigma and with no small amount of embarrassment you think back to all the times you have bought a book after he made a passing comment on it, searched the pages and the characters to find some semblance of him.

Maybe you are pathetic, perhaps you are far too infatuated with this man for it to be healthy. Just maybe...

"No," Taehyung commands, his voice so determined you’re snapped back to the present, head thrown out of the haze your wandering thoughts had created.

Seeing your obscure expression and strayed eyes (look away because you can't acknowledge how much he matters), he pushes, one hand sliding down to grip your chin and urge you to look him in the eye. "Don't."

Maybe he sees something in your eyes, spots your hidden insecurities, reads you like an open book and dog-ears the pages that hold your weakness.

"Don't what?" You deflect, gaze drifting away again as you pretend to not know what he means but secretly long for him to keep pushing, to keep trying—your denial’s a facade to hide all your pleas.

"Don't do this to me. To us."

"You'll hurt me." You protest, a half-hearted attempt at trying to protect your already doomed heart even as your fingers clench tighter, pull him closer.

"No, I won't." He speaks with certainty that you don't wholly believe but fuelled by far too much love and longing, you don't protest any further and instead toe closer, rise higher, and breathe in the shaky exhale he lets out when your lips skim the sharp curve of his jaw.

"I've wanted this for so long." Unadulterated desire courses through your veins at his admission. Even if Taehyung is lying, even if he leaves you stranded after today, you'll live. You'll live on the high of this moment, the memory of his skin under your touch, the crisp of the cotton draped over his lean torso.

It's easier to let go and surrender yourself, easier to lay yourself bare because you have already come too far and there is no protecting yourself anymore—your heart is now his to do with.

Your hands twine around his waist, slide over the vast expanse of his back like he is yours; as though if you try hard enough, you'll leave an imprint, a sign that he belongs to you. Mark him for the rest of eternity and brand him with your name on his heart.

Kissing him is easy, the slight ache of staying on your tippy-toes going by unregistered as you get lost in the sensation of his lips, his sighs on your chin, the tickle of his lashes against the high curve of your cheek.

The cradle of his palms around your face is gentle, almost careful, as though you are a porcelain doll and he is afraid one harsh move will leave you splintered. Chest tight, you push down the last remaining traces of hesitation clinging inside your throat and twist to catch his lips instead, licking a long strip from the soft cleft of his chin over to his parted lips, dip into the hollow of his mouth and slide over the soft flesh on the inside before you catch his upper lip in between yours and suck.

His responding groan has you clenching your thighs and you break the kiss, breathing in to replenish the oxygen that doesn't seem as important when his lips are on yours. When your gaze catches his, for once you don't look away, don't force yourself to stop from swimming in the beautiful, clear pool of his eyes.

"I love you too." Your admission is quiet, more a careful whisper than anything else, as though any louder and you'll break this spell and things will go back to the way they were. He will come to his senses and realise he doesn't love you after all and then you'll go back to being a pining, lovesick fool, only this time with a broken heart and no hope to cling to.

His eyes grow soft—gentle in the curve of two crescent moons, and you smile your first real smile, the edges twitching and pulling into a gentle grin before you can bite it down and the answering smile that Taehyung rewards you with has your heart squeezing almost painfully inside your chest.

"Yeah?" He asks as though he already knows the answer but just wants to hear you say it again, profess your love for him again and you do. You say it again and again, press your lips over every inch of his face and emboss the words onto the smooth, unblemished skin.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you answer from around the suspended ball of disbelief and love in your throat. "Yeah."

When the clothes start coming off it’s a gentle, slow affair, the spaces in between filled with tender touches curious to explore the skin that they had desired for so long and open-mouthed kisses pressing promises of forever and happily ever after onto the naked expanse, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Legs twined around his waist like ivy, you arch off the floor. A tug of your hand and his shirt slips low, and then your mouth is pressing warm, wet, kisses, tongue slipping out and desperately tasting his skin, his sweat— him. You lean back and then he's on you, low, low, low until his lips are close enough to skim the edges of your panties and you buckle, arch and push without meaning to as you ache for relief only he can provide.

"You are beautiful. So so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

His words are rough, less speech and more growl as he pushes his head closer to your soaking heat and inhales. "Fuck."

Breathes turning to hitches, words into gasps, you can scarcely keep your eyes open when he runs a long, slim finger through your folds and circles your wet opening before your walls are pulsing around him, sucking and pulling the finger in as deep as it will go. One and two then three, your cunt can't have enough of his fingers, his heat and him and oh—

His lips are velvet against your clit, your body a molten mass of gold moulding itself around his fingers, your sanity and restraint slipping and dripping down onto the carpeted floor from in between the spaces. With the last left strength, you prop yourself onto your elbows and the sight of Taehyung's mouth on your sex is almost enough to send you slipping back down again. His tongue laves across your folds with the desperation of a man parched, caressing every fold, greedily licking away your dripping arousal and moaning out obscenities too vulgar for how early the day is.

When you come, it's with a cry that sounds too animalistic to be yours. One that comes from your chest and leaves your back arched like the ends of a boomerang. "Good?" He asks with glistening lips, and you wanna scream, hysterical in your pitch— good? Is there anything better that exists in this world than his lips on you making you come? Again and again, until you can no longer stand the sensitivity?

But instead of screaming, or shaking him by his shoulders until it gets through his head, you reply with a spent nod and let your elbows slip. This is what being eaten out by Kim Taehyung feels like. The pleasure coursing through your veins is something far more potent than any you have ever felt before. The blood in your veins thrumming, almost sizzling under the thin layer of your skin.

He presses his forehead to yours, rests to catch his breath and with every shuddery inhale you breathe your arousal in, a swipe of your tongue across his glistening lips, and then you can taste it too. It tastes of nothing and yet everything. Coming from his lips, it tastes of what your dreams are built from, like liquified recklessness and yearning and above all —Taehyung.

It tastes of him and his smirks and all the kisses you couldn't have and all the kisses you now hope for.

His fingers are gentle when they tuck your hair, eyes bright behind the curtain of messy, ink-black strands, "There's a law somewhere that says when you love someone with all your heart, you are unavoidably loved by them as well. Amor ch'a null'amato amar perdona."

Your eyes search his, frantically rove all over his face, search the lines under his eyes, pause at the small mole on his nose, and then stop at the sight of the one on his lower lip, the one that your eyes would always drift to every time he'd smirk or grin in the past. Now he's smiling, lips stretched into a soft boxy curve, the mole evident against the edge and you raise a trembling hand, run your thumb across it. Cup his face with both your hands until your vision blurs and then your lips are on his. Locking and licking and your mouth is a leaking faucet of I love you's, hands working to the back of his head and getting lost in those perfectly long, wavy strands.

You hope this is the real thing when you wildly take off your dress, rip off his shirt unmindful of the last few buttons that clatter to the floor and undress until the both of you are as bare as you were the day you were born.

The steel railing is startlingly cold against your rear but before you can wince Taehyung's large hands are on your waist, pulling you closer until all that's on your mind is the feel of him, hard and hot against your dripping heat. His mouth is on your breast, lips sucking marks into the flesh and tying you to him, leaving traces of his presence behind until you can no longer differentiate the ache in your heart from the burn in your belly.

Somehow through the haze of want and compulsive need, you collect yourself enough to tell him you're on the pill when he remembers the lack of protection in his wallet, and then he's inside you. The thrust inside is fluid, and you are moaning, keening at your wetness, at how long he is, at how unbearably, entirely full you are.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, like the last words of a man dying an untimely death, desperate and hurried and like if he takes a second too long he might never get the chance again. The scratch of your nails against his back must hurt, the grip of your heels around his sides must be painful, and still you can't bring yourself to let up; to let go.

The air inside becomes humid, reeks of sex and sweat and everything that shouldn't seem so right, and yet does.

You come first, hit your peak and crash through it like a ship in a torrential sea, hot and volatile and like something vital that you'll retain even in the afterlife. Taehyung–sweet, sweet Taehyung – helps you ride it out, makes your body sing with the honed practice of a pianist who has spent more decades playing than he can recall. His tongue is on your neck, stroking that one sensitive spot in the hollow of your clavicle while his hand brushes your clit, builds the pleasure and lets it drift, unhurried and soft until you are crying from the overwhelming rightness of it.

With a shudder, you finally push his hand away from your quivering heat and bring it to your lips, kiss the bony knuckles and let it rest on your thigh from where he wraps it tight around your waist and drives to chase his own high.

Sated you watch Taehyung, catalogue all the features that you had never seen before but up close can. Just in case—just. File them all in a part of your heart where only he resides, a piece you will always come back to, regardless of if the man in your arms chooses to stay or not. You will be selfish with these memories, hoard and treasure them in secrecy until the day you can look back upon them with nothing more than nostalgic fondness.

The appearance of a deep furrow on his forehead, between those long arched brows and the breaking rhythm of his thrusts, alerts you to how close he is and you clench. Clench with all the love and devotion you nurture in your heart and hope that somehow it will be enough. If not forever, then at least until you can have your fill, until you can love him for a life's worth and live off on those memories. Live on them like a late mother's half-finished perfume bottle that you take out and sniff on your sorriest days, a push strong enough to keep you going.

One more day, then one more and then just one more until you can finally meet him in the afterlife, old and having done all that you had been sent to do. Except for love. You doubt you can ever love like this again.

Kissing him after feels like the best kind of heartbreak because you know, somewhere deep in your gut where you house your intuition and insecurities, you know this won't last.

Yet you wouldn't take back anything. Your lips form words on Taehyung's shoulder 'i love you so much. i always will', and you tighten your arms around his waist. Anchor him to the present and pray that the defence will be strong enough to keep him with you for a little while more.

Just a little.

a/n: the end is up to your interpretation, you are free to imagine whatever end you’d have liked to see. If you enjoyed reading this please let me know through comments, reblogs, tags or asks. the feedback makes me insanely happy and i love hearing from you guys ♡

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bentobarnes · 3 years

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『𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞』

note : my requests are OPEN! Feel free to send me story requests

pairings : bucky barnes x reader

word count : 1.7k

request by @lovie-barnes (I love soo much): bucky asking reader, who works at the compounds coffee shop out for a date! Its his first date since the 40’s and he is all nervous and shy🥺

warnings : tons of fluff and coffee

*feedback is appreciated. please reblog so it can reach more people♡

Bucky never thought he could believe in love again especially at first sight. Then he saw you and he realized he was wrong all this time. The moment he saw you, his heart started beating fast for the first time since he finally got his memories back his heart was beating for someone else. During the 40s he had been with many girls. He remembered the feeling, the beat of his heart back then and it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing right now.

After finally being free from Hydra Bucky was living in the compound trying to adjust himself to modern life. He was trying to fit in a place he thought he didn’t belong to. It’s been a few weeks now but he was still lost in this. The compound was huge there were places he didn’t even know exist. The only ones he knew were his room, the kitchen which was in the hall where they watched movies, and the gym. Until one day Steve invited him for a cup of coffee. What Bucky didn’t understand is that Steve wasn’t asking him to make the coffee himself he was inviting him for an actual coffee at the compound's cafeteria.

‘’Don’t look at me like that, Buck. You will like it. That’s the best coffee you can get in the whole New York.’’ Steve reassured him before pushing the button to the elevator.

They went to the top floor. There was only one door leading to the cafe.

‘’Oh did I mention that the view here is breathtaking,’’ Steve told him before pushing the door open.

There was only one person sitting at the table next to the huge windows, the sight of New York in full display, reading a book. ‘’Who is she? She looks soo beautiful.’’ Bucky thought to himself holding his breath amazed by your beauty.

‘’Oh, hi Steve. It’s good to see you again!” The woman closed her book and stood up to greet Steve.

‘’You must be James! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” You straighten your hand to give him a handshake but he wasn’t sure if it’s okay to catch your hand. For a brief second, he thought he offended you but you just smiled back at him.

‘’It’s okay. I was once like you. You will get used to it. Okay, Cap what are you two having today? You asked them taking your place behind the counter. Coffee beans were carefully ordered in glass jars behind you.

‘’I really liked that latte you made me last time but I want something a bit stronger if you know what I mean,” Steve asked and Bucky got nervous because he hadn’t had coffee in almost seventy years. What was he going to tell you?

‘’Then macchiato will be perfect for you, Cap. It’s stronger and harsher than the latte because it doesn’t have milk so it would be the best choice.” You didn’t even take a moment to think over Steve’s request. You knew exactly what he needed. How?

“What about you, James?” You turn your look to him.

“I-um. I haven’t had coffee for a very long time soo I have no idea what should I get?” He was nervous around you. His heart was racing because you looked like an angel walking on the earth making coffee. And to whom, to a deadly assassin like him.

‘’It’s okay. Just tell me what taste you want to try. Bitter, sweet, harsh. Coffee is a door to people’s hearts. It doesn’t like to be rushed just like people. Take your time’’ You looked down at your hands holding coffee beans a small smile on your face.

‘’I feel like I want something simple. Maybe not too bitter and too sweet. I don’t know.” He was nervous over a coffee drink. He wanted you to think he is good but he knew he looks like a fool.

“Flat late.” You simply replied.

‘’What?” Where you talking to him or to yourself? What is a flat late?

“Your coffee. It’s flat late. It’s like a cappuccino but it lacks the extra flavor from the chocolate dusting and milk foam so it’s flat late for you today.” You explained to him while taking all the ingredients.

‘’You will like it. She never faults to guess what coffee you need right now.” Steve placed his hand on his shoulder to give me courage.

You looked amazing. Stirring everything soo gently, pouring the coffee like you were dancing. God, you looked soo beautiful.

‘’Coffee is a love language. You can take the worst coffee beans and still get a good flavor if you put enough love and work into the process. Here guys. Have a nice drink!” You put the cups on the counter. Steve took his and went to sit next to the window. Bucky followed him. He wasn’t that impressed from the view of New York he was impressed by you. You prepared yourself a coffee and sat at the other table continuing to read your book. You looked peaceful but at the same time there was something mysterious about you and Bucky wanted to know what. It wasn’t mysterious in a bad way, definitely not. He was impressed by you and he wanted to know more about you. This cafe was his new favorite place. He wondered what kind of coffee you are drinking.

‘’I never got to know your name?” Finding the courage to finally speak, he turned around to face you.

‘’Oh yeah. I’m sorry. It’s Y/N.” You told him taking a sip of your coffee.

‘’What coffee are you drinking right now? I mean what is the taste like?” He was definitely interested in you and he wanted to spent time with you just. He wanted to understand what is going on inside your soul.

‘’It’s called Americano and it’s strong and very bitter. High in coffee, too.” This curiosity made you feel happy.

That day Bucky told himself he will come here every time he can just to see you. It wasn’t that much for the coffee but for you.

It’s been a few weeks now and Bucky got the chance to see you many times. Have small conversations with you. He talked with Steve about asking you out on a date and Steve assured him that it will be fine and he is happy for him. Today was the day. He opened the door for the cafe and you looked at him smiling.

‘’It’s good to see you, James! I kind of missed having you around for a while!” You were excited to see him.

‘’Hey! I wanted to ask you something. I, I haven’t done that in years so I will go straight to the point. Will you go on a date with me, Y/N. From the moment I saw you that day I wanted to ask you this and here I am now being a food.” His heart was racing. Did he make the right decision?

“Of course, James! I would love to! You know I was actually thinking when you will ask me. I kind of wish it was sooner.” You told him with a smirk.

“Oh god! Glad I did it then. Okay, so how about 9 am here tonight?” He asked carefully.

‘’See you at 9 then!’’ Your smile was the most precious thing in the world for him. He would give everything for that smile.

There were you in that black tight dress showing every curve on your body making coffee. If angels exist you were one of them.

“Hi! I made you some coffee! I know it’s dinner time but it’s never late for a good coffee. Plus you seemed a little tensed today and I thought it would help.” You explained to him. He knew what you were talking about.

‘’Thank you, doll. I appreciate it.” He moved your chair back for you so you can take your place at the table.

“You know James I was just like you.’’ You approached him looking at your coffee. For the first since he knew you, you looked sad.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” He needed to be very careful here.

‘’I was an assassin just like you. With the difference that you were turned into one and I was born to be one. I have killed soo many people and I have fought wars my entire life. Until the Avengers helped me get my life back together. I knew how you feel the moment you entered the room because I’m just like you.” You were still looking at your coffee. He slowly reached out for your hand and when you didn’t push it away he took your hand in his.

“I didn’t know that and I’m sorry for what happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of this and it wasn’t your choice. Look at you! You are the most gorgeous human I have ever seen in my entire life. And believe me, I have seen a lot!’’ He squeezed your hand a little bit just to help you ground.

‘’I think I’m falling in love with you and I’m kinda scared of that but I’m also really happy that I found you.” You lifted your head to look into his eyes and now he finally saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. He put his hand gently on your cheek wiping away the tears with his thumb.

‘’Oh, doll. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I want this to work out you know. I want you to be mine.” His voice was soft and full of adoration and respect.

‘’James can’t you see that I’m already yours.” You placed your hand on his which stayed on your cheek and leaned into the touch kissing the back of his hand. He didn’t realize when he started leaning over the table until he felt his lips crash into yours. You returned the kiss, which grew deeper and deeper.

“I love you, Buck.” You whispered into his ear.

‘’I love you, Y/N.’’ He replied smashing his lips once again with yours.

In these moments Bucky was grateful to Steve who wanted to have coffee with him that day. If it wasn’t Steve, he would have never found this woman who he could call his. She was his and he was hers. It took him over 10 coffees to realize that he was just the worst coffee bean but you turned him into full of flavor coffee because you worked hard on the making. Coffee is a love language and you were his.

Tag list: @lovie-barnes , @littlecanadianlani

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gaiuswrites · 3 years

Text

King of Cups || Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tower

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | two

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re apart of the Refugee Relief Movement, an intergalactic organization providing aid throughout the systems, and you find yourself assisting at a resettlement camp in Lothal when disaster strikes, changing your life forever, intertwining your path with that of a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Word count: 3.7k~

Rated: Mature

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood/injury mentioning, danger, mature language

Notes: Hi y'all, welcome. This fic is going to be set during Season 2 of The Mandalorian, and will be what I like to call ‘canon adjacent’. ALSo, this chapter is very much so Reader focused, setting up the scene and the general pacing of the story, but naturally, Din will be more and more featured as things progress. I’m a sucker for backstory and a slow burn, so ye be warned. Please feel free to reach out to me. :) I’d love to hear from you lovely little beans. Be safe out there, friends.

Lothal was a planet all too familiar with occupation.

You remember seeing a quote somewhere that read ‘Look no further than Lothal if you want to see what happens when the Empire takes control of an entire world’; and although the Imperial chokehold had loosened when the Empire fell, the planet, even all these years later, still found itself gasping for breath.

Off world migration from the Core Worlds had been popularized since the expansion of the Imperial government bureaucracy, which brought booming business opportunities for the fortunate few, but as the rich became richer, the poor grew poorer. The Lothalites were forced out of their homes, off their own lands—refugees on their own planet; forced to resettle and relocate with nothing but the clothes on their back and the possessions they could cram into their pockets. The only heirlooms passed on from generation to generation were that of poverty, tall tales of former splendor, and the greatest of ancestral traumas: disillusionment.

The truly desperate turned to crime, and what couldn’t be solved by back-dealings and blaster fire was managed with fear mongering and the bitter flair of xenophobia. There was always a species to blame, and it was always the one who seemed to be doing better off, no matter how slight the margin.

Greed. Fear. Despair. These are the currencies in which the galaxy trades.

And so it was then, and continued to be, cycle after cycle. History, always finding clever ways to repeat itself.

On bad days, pollution still loomed heavy over the atmosphere—remnants of the fires from the Imperial occupation still clinging on to Lothal’s weary bones. She had been stripped during that time; gutted and strung up by her feet to dangle from the Empire’s meat hook, exsanguinated slowly, drop by drop, until she had nothing left to give. Her resources and minerals and ore and water and seed, robbed. Pillaged.

She’s free from it now, but the scars remain— the planet remembers. Her people do not forget. Like muscle memory, they all ungulate to this synthesized rhythm they can’t seem to shake, day in and day out, wandering. Forever unsettled.

The planet had always had a diverse population and had become something of a safe haven for other abandoned people fleeing their home worlds, determined to find somewhere - anywhere - for them to survive. Lothal provided that for them. It wasn’t rich or bountiful by any stretch, but it was simple and safe—safe in the way hidden things in plain sight are. One could blend into the crowd of many, unique faces, of all races and backgrounds; you could be anonymous, if you wanted. You could be free.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here in Jortho. You had been with the Refugee Relief Movement for the better part of what felt like forever, and they had transferred you to this planet not six weeks ago. You were out on rotation; the RRM sends someone new twice a cycle for the span of a month or two to varying locations to supply rations, aid with the influx of refugees, organize resettlement lodgings, and generally be of assistance when and where you could. However, your tenure on this temperate planet was coming to a close, and soon you’d be flying back to the headquarters on Coruscant before being bounced to another post somewhere out among the stars.

You love your job. You know it’s unpopular to say, but you do. It’s fulfilling and impactful and indescribably special. The individuals you meet, the stories you hear, they’re invaluable— priceless and precious, like handmade trinkets crafted by the fingers of a child; you press them all to your heart, holding them there. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get to you— the weight of it; the plights of all of these people, all of these lives, burdening your conscience. It isn’t always painless— you aren’t immune to it. Even so, on most nights you manage to sleep easy, tucked away aboard the transport freighter you flew in on with the batch of settlers newly assimilated into town knowing Maker, at least you were doing something— anything— everything you could.

And really, to call Jortho a town would be an insult to all towns everywhere—but ‘town’ has a certain charm to it that ‘refugee camp’ simply did not, and it gave the people hope. Pride, even. That they belonged somewhere.

You suppose that’s all anyone wants. To belong.

A feather soft gust of wind tickles the golden blades of prairie grass as the sun, bleary and tired, starts dipping from the sky. The crickbeets begin their song early, trilling, sensing Lothal’s moons still coyly tucked away, hiding somewhere along the horizon. A smile adorns your face, private and serene, as you bring a bowl of broth up to your lips, humming when the warm liquid meets your tongue. You sigh, contented, taking in the sights before you; how the dusk blurs the aromatic air, making it opaque, the shuttles docked across the way from you casting long purple shadows onto the flat plains, the snowcapped mountains in the distance bordering the cant of the planet’s surface, nestling Jortho in a shallow valley.

You feel calm, at peace, and take another sip.

An easy moment passes, and it’s the last one you get before silence stalks up from behind you.

You don’t notice it at first, like any patient predator, it goes undetected: the white noise, the nothingness— until finally, you do and then suddenly it’s everywhere. On top of you. Smothering you. Goosebumps stipple your skin and you bristle. The insects have stopped chirping. The breeze has stilled. The air hangs dead.

And then—

Chaos.

You’re hit with a blast of crushing heat, the sheer power of it picking you up off your feet and onto your side, sending your body careening into a nearby structure. Your shoulder takes most of the blow, but your neck still snaps backwards unnaturally, the back of your head colliding with the stone wall behind you with a dull thwack. You let out a groaned cry at the impact, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crumple to the ground.

For an instant, your vision goes white, stars popping and fusing out in front of your pupils, and it’s like you can feel everything and nothing all at once, hollow but overwhelmed, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift asleep— Maker that would feel like a luxury, just right here on the damn dirt. And you almost do, you almost let yourself slip under and sink— until you hear a piercing scream from somewhere close.

Immediately your eyes shoot open, desperately blinking away the blurriness that threatens to over take them, and you try pushing yourself up by the heels of your scraped hands, failing once - twice - before finding your footing. You’re shaky at first, uncoordinated and dizzy and redownloading bipedalism, before that sweet drug of adrenaline starts to course through your veins and finally, finally, you take in your surroundings.

The ships that once stood across the field are gone, obliterated, and in their place only metal ribcages remain—empty carcasses like dead birds splayed on their backsides, imploded from the inside out, their bits strewn all around you.

Your breathing comes hard and heavy, fighting down panic, and cloudy eyes search through the thick black smoke billowing up in stacks, trying to pin point the source of the scream you’d heard just moments ago. You cough a strained wheeze, sputtering against the charred air, and wade your way through the debris— it’s only then that you realize the magnitude of the explosion. It’s not just the landing bay, it’s half the kriffing village. The buildings that neighbored the airfield had been decimated, burning roofs and crumbling fixtures, homes collapsing onto themselves, scorch marks and shrapnel branding the outsides of the shanties left standing.

It looks like a battlefield. You’ve seen holovids of this—what war can look like, how it can ruin a people… But you’ve never had to stand in the middle of it, head on.

Your heart drums against your chest as you break into a hobbled run, desperately scanning the area for any signs of life, up and down, left and right, straining against the waning daylight. It’s then that you hear your name, urgent and frantic, and you whip your head in it’s direction, knees nearly buckling in relief. You immediately recognize your friend Hareem, brandishing her arms at you, waving you over to her.

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright!” the Balosar cries out, trembling hands finding purchase on your shoulders, bracing you. You don’t know if its for your benefit or her own, but either way you’re grateful for the grounding pressure; for the first time since the initial blast, you feel solid, like you won’t just float away, atomized and weightless. Worried, you look her over. A sliver of fresh scarlet blooms from her scalp, a small line trickling down past her temple, but she otherwise looks relatively unharmed. You grasp onto her wrist, squeezing firmly.

“What the hell happened?” You ask, voice low and pitched, wide fearful eyes drilling into her.

“T-There was a man-” And she shakes her head, mouth clamping shut, deep wrinkles framing her face.

“Hareem,” you reassure, giving her another squeeze. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

She tries again with a steadying inhale, “I-I saw him. A-a man. He had a device with him, and he set charges, and Maker I don’t know— I don’t know— it went off a-and he ran towards the center of town!” The Balosar is in hysterics, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks, and it takes your brain a moment to catch up, to wrap your mind around the words she’s stuttering out.

A man.

Device.

Charges.

A bomb. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attack—and he’s still kriffing here. You cup her cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin, smearing away the blood that’s nearly dripped to her chin. Your friend’s gaze is flighty, everywhere and nowhere, and you try giving her a smile, but you’re not quite sure you manage it.

“Hareem? Hareem. Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright…” You peel your eyes off her to glance around hurriedly. “We need to find cover.”

///

You’re holed up in one of the few remaining homes on this side of the encampment, crowded into the small space with three other survivors. All four of you, packed in and silent and petrified. Unsure of any further threat, you stay completely still. Helpless. Laying here, idle, for whatever awaits you behind that feeble, wooden door. You feel like prey for the wicked, just passing the time.

Minutes inch along like this—or maybe its hours; time moves eerily different when you’re attempting to become invisible—and eventually, you almost begin to relax.

Almost.

But a new sound breaks the din, hard to recognize at first, indistinct from all the commotion outside their hut, but you hear it. You all do. The youngest of you, a teenaged Devaronian, grips onto the hem of your shirt, knuckles creasing with anticipation. You tense, spine going rigid. Footsteps. They’re slow, guarded, but they’re getting closer. You bring an arm up, for all the good it’ll do, creating a human shield in front of the boy at your side. Closer. Someone behind you muffles a whimper. Closer. A Bardottan you hadn’t even met until today let’s out the faint whisper of a prayer, lips barely ghosting over the phrases. Closer-

and then, nothing.

They’re here. You can sense him, see his shadow sweep across the gaps in the entryway. You all hold your breath, as if the air is being syphoned out of the space… And the door is flung open, nearly breaking off it’s hinges as it slams into the inside of the house, shuttering the rickety walls with a jarring bang.

You don’t know who looks more astonished: you four, or the Mandalorian before you, dripping head to toe in silver plated armor, pointing a blaster directly at your head.

“Where is he?” He asks, hard edged and modulated, and it’s more of a demand than a question—but he lowers his weapon all the same, holstering it at his side. You gape at him, guppying wordlessly. “Volcur X’elo. The bomber. Where?” He hasn’t moved an inch out of the doorframe but he’s still managing to loom over you, completely filling up the archway, shoulders set and impossibly intimidating.

You gulp, finally finding your voice. “In town, i-in the center of town…” Kriff, you had not idea if that intel was good or not, but it’s all you think to say. Seeming satisfied with your answer he turns on his booted heel, cape whipping behind him, leaving just as soon as he arrived. The dust barely has time to settle as the door teeter’s on its hinge, its rusty squeaks filling the void in the Mandalorian’s wake.

“Fuck,” you hiss, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, doubling forward, propping your palms up on your knees.

///

After deliberating it with your group, you all come to the agreement of braving it outside. Better to be out under the open sky than die under a concaving apartment, clambering over each other to get to the exit. After all this, at least your dignity was still partially in tact— normally, you reckon you’d chuckle dryly at that. But you don’t.

Can’t.

You lead the pack through the mazelike streets. The sights that once seemed so familiar after weeks of living here become like strangers to you, and you sleepwalk through Jortho, snaking down paths marred by rubble and fallen wreckage— you haven’t seen any bodies, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe you’re just too scared to notice them. Maybe they’re there, hovering just outside of your peripherals, haunting the corners of your vision…

You keep your head fixed forward, jaw clenched.

Your feet move on their own like this, only vaguely aware that the red-skinned boy still hadn’t let go of your tunic. You forge on. Have to. You have to. Your only purpose on this kriffing planet was to help these people, to bring them aid, and if that means simply planting one foot in front of the other, then so be it. You take side alleys, double backing here and there, ducking under canopies, looping around yourself, only stopping when you catch a glimpse of beskar, the orange setting sun glinting off the surface of his helmet.

And he’s not alone.

You freeze suddenly, as do the rest, and the Devaronian bumps into you, stumbling under his lanky legs. Some paces in front of you, the bounty hunter has the other man, this Volcur X’elo, by a punishing grip on his shoulders, shoving him forcefully out in front of him; his wrists are bound and he’s fitful without the stabilization of his arms, his feet staccatoed and flailing wildly beneath him as the Mandalorian marches him forward.

The wind shifts, and on it you can hear the bomber rant madly, only catching snippets of the vile nonsense that spews from him.“- like swine, they are a plague to the system! And they must be purged from this planet, and the next, and the next— every last filthy one!” You spare a glance to Hareem, to find her watching the scene in hypnotized horror, but your eyes snap back at the sound of something maniacal, drawing your attention. It’s laughter. The zealot begins to laugh a twisted, mocking cry that makes you want to vomit. “You might have me in binders Mandalorian, but you’re too late. You’re too late. This isn’t over!” He’s practically giggling, gleeful and demented. Disturbed. “You’ve only found one.”

Your blood runs cold.

Only one? Oneoneoneone, one what-

The realization hits you with a punch to your gut. He’s only detonated one of his bombs. Somewhere, nearby, there must be another.

Without another word, the Mandalorian whips the smaller man around, pulling him sharply by his collar to collide with his breastplate, completely dwarfing him with his beskar frame. “Where is it, X’elo?” Nothing. Only laughter. High pitched, terrible roars. He tries again, patience ebbing. “The bomb. Now.” X’elo’s head tilts back and he howls another crowing shriek, keeping private his own sick joke, as if clutching a secret to his chest with slimy hands.

The bounty hunter had heard enough. He clearly wasn’t getting anything more out of him, and with a quick strike, he rears his blaster and pistol whips the terrorist with it. The body drops. Volcur X’elo crumples, unconscious, blood streaming from where he was struck. You hear the Bardottan behind you stifle a cry with her fist.

And with that, Lothal’s sun disappears completely, stealing away the last of it’s light as it furls into itself, shrinking out of sight. The dark ushers a new wave of dread, creeping over Jortho like a miasma, poisoning the very air.

The Mandalorian wheels around, searching for his heading in the labyrinth of the town. Others have gathered now, poking their heads around corners, stealing glimpses through windows. He turns, his head on a swivel. “Where is your power generator?” he demands, addressing the small crowd, but you’re all too stunned to speak. “Anybody. Generator. Now.” There’s something new in his voice, something muddled, and it takes you a moment to interpret it. It’s desperation, you realize, tinny and deep through his vocoder, and with a surge of adrenaline you move forward, furthering yourself from your group. You swallow. “I-Its this way.” Upon hearing your voice, he spins around, his visor latching on to you, and with a nod you both set out.

“Watch him,” the Mandalorian growls past his shoulder, stepping over the bounty’s limp body.

///

You’re still not really sure how he knew where it’d be, you wonder to yourself, gravel crunching under foot as you both trudge on, an eery quiet settling over them. You’d say it was a lucky hunch, but judging by the way the Mandalorian carries himself, you doubt luck had much to do with it.

You had led him to the power generator hub on the other side of the sad excuse for a city, traveling in tense silence, and when you came upon that tall, bulky machine he sprang into action, circling it until he found what he was looking for. The bomb. You stood back, rooted there, and after some grunting and rewiring— or maybe he just hacked at it with a vibroblade, you had no idea; his wide frame engulfed his work and you couldn’t tell what he was up to, all you knew was that his methods proved successful— the man managed to disarm the second device. You had thought you noticed his shoulders release, slumping with relief, after the red flashing lights on the rudimentary interface flickered and then went dark.

And so here you are. The two of you, bathed in the bright light of Lothal’s twin moons, their bellies hanging full in the blue-black night, illuminating the trail of blood staining the dirt beneath your boots as the Mandalorian roughly drags the body by his ankle behind him— through the exploded rubble, through the fragmented lives of the people around you, already displaced and estranged. They’ll all have to move, you think, pack up their lives, or what little is left of them, and relocate. Again. The thought sinks in you like a stone, sobering you.

Even with the weight of a fully grown man to lug, the bounty hunter is still a few long strides in front of you and your eyes are trained on the unconscious form, taking in the way his mouth lolls open like an animal, his hair matted with thick blood, eyes rolled back into his head. You’re talking out loud before you even realize it.

“How sick do you have to be,” you mumble, transfixed. Your voice, it’s not angry; no, shock has effectively robbed you of that— it’s not anger, but bewilderment. Quivering, broken bewilderment.

“H-How hoodwinked and warped you’d have to be, how disturbed... For you to think like that. To do all... all this...”

“Hey,” his gruff voice shakes you from your trance, and you blink up at him, tearing your eyes off the body. “Focus,” he urges, and you can only nod dumbly back at him, suddenly feeling a ripple of nausea slither through you.

The ramp to his ship is lowering as they come upon it and you plant yourself at the base, feet seeming to stop on their own accord, and frankly you’re not really sure why you’ve even followed him this far in the first place— always a step behind him as he hauled his bounty all the way through the vestiges of Jortho, across the arid prairie to where he first touched down. Maybe it’s because you feel untethered, unmoored, and all of his steeled surety is like a lighthouse, a beacon, guiding you away from the rocks.

He heaves X’elo up the ramp and you’re left standing there, staring unseeingly into the durasteel, becoming more and more aware of the ringing in your ears. The longer time passes, the more it’s as if you’re underwater, the background blurring into the foreground, sound gargled and far away. A high pitched buzz pinches your ear drums, and it takes you a moment to realize the Mandalorian is calling out to you, trying to get your attention.

“— Dala.”

Does he sound annoyed? Kriff, you think he might... If you had your wits about you, you might be able to recognize it. But as it stands, you don’t. You’re not here, not all of you. You’re splintered. Suspended.

“Hmm? Sorry, what..?” Your mouth is as dry as Jakku— parched desert tongue darting across your cracked lip, tasting soot and ash and something metallic. Brow furrowed, you touch a shaky finger to the flesh and when you pull it back, crimson red dots your skin.

Oh, you think, numb. Huh.

Your eyes skitter back up to the Mandalorian, towering over you, nearly at the apex of the incline, and his stance is broad and his fists are clenched. You’re almost positive he’s glaring down at you through his visor, and you don’t even know the man, can’t even see his damn face, but you can tell he’s peeved— Maker, just how long had you been ignoring him?

A scratched noise comes through his helmet’s vocoder and his next words are clipped, punctuated. “I said, do you have a way off this skug hole?”

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talesofsonicasura · 2 years

Text

After watching Sonic the Hedgehog 2, don't worry I ain't going into any spoilers as this focuses on the first movie, I imagined this sorta of insanity.

What if the warp ring Long Claw threw glitched? Instead of Sonic ending up in Green Hills, at the last second it changed to someplace else. Where? Madness Combat's Nevada

Who is the first person our little precious bean runs into? Hank Motherfucking Wimbleton.

Animals, much less something Sonic, being something unheard of in Nevada so Hank becomes very curious about the pocket sized hedgehog. In short, the merc takes him in and Sonic's sweet innocence changes Hank. Yep, the man is on the path to being a disaster dad.

So Sonic ends up growing up around the crew, Deimos, Sanford, Doc and of course Hank. (Hank also acquired a dadbod. Not my art, belongs to @buttery-art hence the link.) Everything is fine until in the middle of Sonic's first official mission, Hank whose currently now a Mag, gets badly hurt. Thinking fast and desperately, the hedgehog throws a Warp Ring with only one thought in mind, someplace safe. Destination? The small town of Green Hills.

Hank is very badly injured so him recovering is gonna take a lot longer without Doc there and Sonic's medical knowledge being limited. So the hedgehog steals medical supplies and essentials to keep both of them alive. This goes on for about a year with Hank nearly fully healed. Then the events of the first movie kick in.

Now Tom has to deal with a hedgehog more traumatized and battle ready alongside his equally traumatized but more violent grunt mentor. The sheriff needs a serious break while these two Nevadans need severe therapy.

If anyone wants to take a spin at this, go ahead! I love to see what people can come up with!

Right now I have major writer's block hence the lack of updates but I hope I can update soon! Until next time folks! Live and Learn as you thrive in the madness.

(Edits will be added when I think of something to add. This is to help those who want to try utilizing this idea.)

Edit: Doc, Sanford, Hank and Deimos each have a Warp Ring given by Sonic. These are meant to be used for an emergency return to base.

Reason Sonic didn't take Hank back to base with the Warp Ring cause said base had been compromised. Everyone had to split up so the A.A.H.W couldn't get them all with Sonic going alongside his mentor Hank. The plan was to regroup and stay on the downlow.

Sonic hasn't returned to the Madcomverse cause one, Hank being at 100% boosts their chance at survival if they do return since the risk of being attacked/ambushed is high. Two, Sonic doesn't how to program his Warp Ring to the Nevada he wants to go. He knows the basics of using the rings but not enough for a situation like this.

Also, Sonic has seen Hank die a few times but even he's worried that the next time could be permanent despite Doc being capable of bringing him back.

Edit 2: Sonic still spies on the people of Green Hills like in the movie. At first, it's to check the people's schedule so he can steal stuff him and Hank needs without getting spotted. Later on, he does because he's very curious about everyone's carefree lifestyle.

There are no kids in Nevada and from what I can assume, the place was already insane since the Sheriff is actually a warlord who just calls himself that. (Guess the place was already apocalyptic before the Improbability Drive made everything even more mad.)

So Sonic never really experienced a peaceful or even normal childhood and is understandably jealous. (The whole crew tried very hard to at least give him some semblance.)

The hedgehog hasn't killed anyone either. A first kill is very hard and life changing for everyone. Thus someone has to be there for him when the time unfortunately comes. But again, the crew tried to keep him from doing that as long as they can, even Hank. The infamous Grunt is still an asshole but Sonic's presence chilled him out some and is a bit softer, mainly around his blue blurred apprentice.

#crossover #idea #sonic the hedgehog #sonic 2020 #sth #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 #movie sonic #madness combat #mag hank #hank j. wimbleton #hank j wimbleton #madcom hank #sonicasura #tales of sonicasura #tom wachowski #dad!hank #dad!hank j wimbleton #dad!hank j. wimbleton

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himitsu-luna · 3 years

Text

Headcanon

*ﾟ—☆ Nct 127 - Fashion style they would be attracted to ☆—ﾟ*

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Obs 1 : I tried my best here, but I'm definetely not a fashion expert (I confirmed this while I was trying to choose the pics here T-T) ahhaahha this is just my personal opinion about this matter, so don't take it too seriously hehe

Obs 2 : please, don't worry if you don't match any style here, or if you don't match the style of your bias, or wherever the case is. Don't ever change who you are because of someone else, especially appearance wise. You are all precious gorgeous beautiful wonderful beans, and your authenticity and personality are the most important and sexy thing, yeeeyy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧~♪ Taeil

Taeil would be attracted to someone that seems to prioritize comfort over beauty, but that also knows how to coordinate their looks. They appear clean, fresh, simple, cute, and also mature. This person may not stand out for the majority of people, but that's exactly what calls Taeil's attention. They're someone who looks approachable, huggable and friendly.

Overall elements: Light colors, sneakers, caps, oversized clothes, cute details, hoodies, too long sleeves, plain shirts, cardigan

✧~♪ Johnny

Johnny would be attracted to someone who looks simple yet elegant. This person emanates a certain duality in the way they dress. They are warm but also intimidating in a degree. They are cute but also mature. This person looks comfortable and confident in their own skin, and are proud of their style.

Overall elements: Long coats, neutral and earthy colors, plaid patterns, turtleneck, opened buttons, tattos, sunglasses

✧~♪ Taeyong

Taeyong would be attracted to someone who expresses themselves through the way they dress. Someone who clearly uses some creativity on choosing and combining their clothes would call his attention. It can be super simple and also super elaborated. This person looks free, clever, enthusiastic, innovative.

Overall elements: Urban streetwear, lots of accessories, a personal touch to the clothes, patches and pins, a variety of models of hats, nice shoes

✧~♪ Yuta

Yuta would be attracted to two extremes: the cool and the cute. He would love the sharp, j-rock, edge style, because it is close to his own style. But the cute style would attract him too, because he also likes to be around cute people. An innocent look that opposes his style would be interesting for him. But even the cute for him would be kinda bold.

Overall elements: Painted nails, dyed hair, piercings, tattoos, silver accessories, bold and sexy dresses, cute dresses, Black + red combination

✧~♪ Doyoung

Doyoung would be attracted to an elegant person. That type of person who looks like they got out of a fashion magazine. A clean, simple and sophisticated look, without much information to process, but you see that every single detail of it was carefully planned.

Overall elements: turtleneck, long coats and pieces in general, neutral colors, shirts, glasses, casual clothes, leather (fake leather, pls)

✧~♪ Jaehyun

Jaehyun would be attracted to two main styles : fancy/sexy and sporty. A chic and sensual person, with a cool but also romantic aura around them would make Jaehyun interested. He would like the sporty style too, because it would give him the idea of being active and healthy.

Overall elements: simple black shirts and T-shirts, sweatshirt, silk, satin, golden accessories

✧~♪ Winwin

Winwin would be attracted to a classy simple style, with some cutesy air to it. Overall plain clothes, without any patterns, clean, soft, that don't look overwhelming, that gives him a peaceful, modest, calm and angelic energy.

Overall elements: flowy dresses, ribbons, suits and coats, big bags, Olive/Brown/Gray/Blue tones

✧~♪ Jungwoo

Jungwoo would be attracted to a cute and simple style. He would like someone who looks fun, goofy, bright, cool, nice. This person just emanates sweet and playful energy, and seems to have lots of sugar rushes and cute quirks.

Overall elements: pastel colors, fruit patterns, Cartoon shirt, shorts, sweaters, ponytails, light jeans

✧~♪ Mark

Mark would be attracted to a simple yet fun and fashionable style. They look brilliant, lively, positive, wholesome, creative. They are cool, maybe the coolest person you know, but they don't seem to realize it.

Overall elements: Layers, jeans, jackets, caps and beanies, hoodies, cool tones+warm tones combination, sneakers, backpack

✧~♪ Haechan

Haechan would be attracted to a cute + elegant style. He would like someone who looks all bold and, with a blink of an eye, looks all adorable, and nothing actually really changed in their appearance.

Overall elements: stripes, shirts, sweaters, fluffy coats, necklaces, high waisted pants and skirts

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•° Anon, thanks for the request!! Hope you like it!!

•° taglist - @starrdustville @mairah-shaikh @mairahshaikh @cupidluvstarrz @kpopsnowball @kaepopsicle @purplepsycho03 @najatheangel @dundun-baby @showmewhatyoureworkingwith

* If you want to be added to or removed from the taglist, just send me an ask or a message (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

•° Masterlist

...

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elephart-hi · 4 years

Text

MLB AU where Adrien was only kind-of-famous at the beginning of the show

Some people might recognize him but they wouldn’t know him as ~Adrien Agreste the model~ they would know him as ~Gabriel Agreste’s Son~ if even at all

“Adrien???? Uhh... who? Oh! yeahhhhhh! Gabriel Agrestes son. I didn’t know his name. Yeah uh I think I remember seeing him next to Gabriel on TV one time”

He would still model for the brand and everything but he wasn’t like THE face of the brand and definitely wasn’t like a covergirl (would it be coverboy?) and he definitely wasn’t plastered on billboards as far as the eye could see

Adrien would be like that one model from fashionova who models like all their clothes. You know the one I’m talking about. You recognize them and you know where u recognize them from but you don’t know their name and you wouldn’t consider them like ~famous~ much less a celebrity

“Oh! Hey aren’t u that guy... yeah yeah! You are THAT guy. You know... the guy who is always in the Gabriel ads?”

Adrien was only kind-of-famous and only really bc of his dad. Otherwise he was just that model that people ~sometimes~ recognize

Well...

That is until ladybug unintentionally put him on the map.....

LB and CN were about to do an interview and LB didn’t know the cameras had already started rolling when Nada asked her who her celebrity crush would be.

Marinette assumed she was just making conversation bc why would she ask her what her celebrity crush was on the air when she should be asking her important questions like about how she intends to keep the city safe and stuff

Mari assumes Nadia is just trying to break the ice and get the ball rolling before they ACTUALLY get on the air and get to the real questions

So there Ladybug is, sitting next to Chat Noir (who is Adrien kind-of-famous-but-not-nearly-famous-enough-to-be-a-celebrity Agreste) live on the air with all of Paris and France as a whole watching plus many other countries around the world and Guess who she says her celebrity crush is

“Oh... ummmm.... who would my celebrity crush be? *giggle* (bc she is just a teenage girl thinking about her irl crush) hmmm I’d probably say Adrien Agreste!”

Cue Awkward silence bc no one in the studio knows who that is even tho the name is ~kinda~ familiar

Also cue dead silence from Chat Noir bc he completely stopped breathing bc OMFG DID SHE JUST SAY MY NAME!

ME!?

A celebrity?!?!

SHE EVEN KNOWS MY NAME!?!?

WHAT! OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE WHO ARE ACTUALLY FAMOUS SHE SAID ME!?!?

IM JUST “THAT GUY FROM THE GABRIEL BRAND”

...

AND THATS ON A GOOD DAY!!!!

Nadia who is trying to save the show: “hahah I’m sorry ladybug I don’t believe I’m familiar with this person could u refresh my memory?”

Ladybug who still had no idea they are on the air and is just making small talk:

“OH! Yeah sorry! Hahaha! He is Gabriel Agretes son! I’m really into fashion and I’m a HUGE fan of his fathers brand which Adrien models for sometimes. I’ve met him as a civilian and he is just the sweetest guy. He is even nicer than he is handsome and that’s saying something because the boy could purify an akuma with just his smile” *dreamy sigh*

And THAT is how Adrien Agreste became a household name

One minute he was just -that guy- and the next everyone in France is obsessed with him bc THE Miraculous Ladybug, THE Lady Luck, THE Hero of Paris SAID THAT HE WAS HER CELEBRITY CRUSH AND THAT HE COULD PURIFY AN AKUMA BY SMILING AT IT

Brands all over are begging for him to model for them.

He can’t go anywhere and i mean ANYWHERE without being recognized.

Suddenly he is the IT boy of Paris.

WHO IS THE BOY WHO HAS LB SMITTEN!?!?

IF LB CONSIDERS HIM A CELEBRITY THEN HE MUST BE!

All of a sudden Adrien has fan clubs and everything

He is front cover of magazines and is on billboards

His father went from Gabriel Agreste, famous fashion designer, to Adrien Agrest’s father. bc now his son is a bigger deal than he is.

Adrien went from 5k followers to 5million in less than a week

Gabriel’s sales go through the roof bc of Adriens newfound stardom.

And who does Gabriel Agreste, Aka Hawkmoth, Have to thank for this... His archnemisis Ladybug.

And who does Adrien Agreste have to thank for his new found stardom?

The shy girl who sits behind him in class who he gave his umbrella to as a peace offering which made her fall head over heels in love with him

The same shy girl who just so happens to be his superhero partner (who he is completely in love with) who was way more famous than ~Adrien that-guy Agreste~ before she accidentally name dropped him on live television bc she has a huge crush on him and didn’t realize the cameras were rolling and was just being the precious little bean that she is and talking about the boy she is in love with who has a smile so bright it could purify an akuma :,)

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kiljoius · 2 years

Text

The View From Down Here - Chapter 11

Summer Seeds

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Ao3

Shane helps Charlotte purchase seeds, and she buys him a drink.

Spring 27

Rain, a welcome sight for Charlotte. She actually despised the rain when she lived in the city-it was miserable. Trekking through it on her way to the subway, trying to keep her essentials dry. Stuck in the office all day. Straight home. But here, in the country, it felt so pleasant – especially because it meant she didn’t need to water. She sat back in her little farmhouse, a steaming cup of coffee in her palms, a serene smile over her face as Ding Ding purred in her lap, perfectly content.

This is what she was trying to find all along, she thought. Just a moment of peace.

Perfectly content.

Then she heard a crash outside, causing Ding Ding to dig his claws into her thighs, then jump. She winced, eyes wide as she looked outside. A moment later, she heard the rolling sound of thunder.

“Oh shit,” she whispered, raising to her feet. She hadn’t even thought of lightning. She was familiar with it, but in such an industrialized city, she never had to worry about it. It didn’t bother her out there, but she was just now grasping the gravity of the situation. She set her coffee down beside her and threw her front door open to see the damage. A precious green bean plant, burnt to a crisp, “oh..SHIT!”

“Oh my,” Marnie gasped, looking out her window as she heard the cry of her neighbor. She shot a look at Shane, who was chuckling into his orange juice, a wide smirk betraying his otherwise sullen demeanor, “Shane! That poor thing. This is her first thunderstorm, isn’t it?”

“Who knows,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and setting his glass down behind his plate. As he reached to grab his fork for his eggs, Marnie uttered the words he knew were coming, but was dreading.

“Why don’t you go help her?”

“Marn...”

“Shane!” She snapped, whirling around to face him, a scowl upon her face. Shane heaved in deeply, seeing the hopelessness of this potential battle.

“Alright,” and with that, Marnie’s face immediately began glowing. “You realize I’m going to be late for work.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Marnie snarked playfully, grabbing his coat from the hallway for him, “dear, you don’t have a rain coat, do you?”

“Nope,” he pulled the offered jacket upon himself, and pulled the hood up, “it’s fine. Make sure Jas takes her vitamins, okay?”

“Yes dear,” she smiled warmly at her nephew and gave his cheek a pat before he swung open the door, “thank you.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the top of the head before quietly pulling the door closed behind him, trying to be careful not awaken his goddaughter.

“No, no, no…” Charlotte huffed as she began hurriedly attempting to throw tarp over some of her crops, especially those that were almost ready for harvest, “shit, shit, shit.”

“Yoba,” Charlotte froze in her tracks for a moment before spinning around to meet the eyes of the storm himself, “you’re a mess, farmer.”

“Wow, thanks!” She had no idea how to respond except with sarcasm, taking a moment to look him over, “another delivery?”

“Courtesy of the town aunt,” Shane’s tone also dripped with sarcasm as he dropped a wheelbarrow before him, filled with lightning rods, “there you go.”

“What is it?” She questioned, stopping him from leaving as quickly as he intended.

“Lightning rods. Pop ‘em down, magic, Yoba saves, whatever,” he shoved his hands in his pockets and attempted to make his leave.

“Wherever?” She continued her questioning.

“Yes. I have to go,” he pushed on, beginning to walk away.

“But…alright…is it safe to grab them while it’s actively thundering?” Shane had already walked several feet away, but could continue to hear her speak to herself. “Alright Charlotte, just…wherever. Go grab gloves.”

Pangs of guilt hit him right in the chest as he strolled away, forcing him to stop. He heaved a great sigh as he pulled his sleeve up to glance at his watch. 7:05.

Fine.

He turned back around and headed to the wheelbarrow while the farmer was inside, another bolt of lightning coming dangerously close to a batch parsnips about to peak out from the ground. He eyed them as he began unloading the rods, setting them down carefully one after another. He didn’t bother to lift his head as he heard her footsteps come back down, stopping short of him. She was silent as he finished unloading the last of the rods, and he finally looked up at her. She was actively looking around the farm, silently planning.

“Alright,” she sighed, attempting to grab two rods, one in each hand. She gasped as she immediately lurched forward, underestimating their weight, “shit!”

“Uh-yeah. These things are pretty hefty,” Shane couldn’t help but chuckle at her arrogance.

“Huh,” she shook her head as she wrapped her hands around a single rod instead, heaving it up, “well then. Off I go.”

He couldn’t help but crack a smile as she got to work laying the rods out. She didn’t need him. He grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow as she returned for another, stopping for a moment to lock eyes, “good luck.”

“Thank you,” she offered a smile as she heaved another rod, “Shane.”

“Farmer,” he nodded his head towards her as she spun on her heel, and he made way back to the ranch. 7:15.

Just a little late.

The official start of summer was just around the corner, and it was time for Charlotte to head to Pierre’s and grab some seeds, thankfully with the rain letting up as she headed out. She was dedicated to getting a head start this time and trying to do a bit more.

“Thanks Marnie!” She called behind her, pulling the door shut as she did. She had some coffee beans in her purse that Marnie had traded her for some pickles. Marnie also offered her, once again, some advice on what to grow for summer.

“Wheat, corn, peppers, tomatoes,” she counted out four fingers, “and I’ll do some hops, too,” she smirked, thinking of Sam. She patted her bag, “and coffee.” She made the trek into town, passing by Sam’s place, then Emily’s, rounding the corner and briskly walking past the Saloon, peaking inside as she did to see Emily and Gus chatting behind the counter.

Arriving at Pierre’s, she swung the door open and marched inside with the utmost confidence. “Hello!” Pierre looked up from his paper and lifted his chin from his palm. His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Hey farmer Charlotte! Head start on seeds for you this summer?”

“Yep, exactly!” Charlotte nodded as Pierre rose from his stool. “Wheat, corn, peppers, tomatoes, hops,” she began listing off immediately in effort to word-vomit her way out of forgetting. Pierre’s eyebrows raised as he immediately began grabbing her list for her from the shelf.

“Good choices,” he nodded as he laid the packets before her, hands outstretched, “how many of each?”

“Oh…oh no,” Charlotte let out a sigh, hand to forehead, “I dunno! I didn’t get that far with Marnie. Hmm.”

You fool!

“Well, how big is your land, do you remember?” Pierre inquired, as if he could help. Charlotte looked up at him, eyes dark. Pierre frowned, grabbing a few packets of each in an attempt to make her think perhaps he knew what to do. She sucked in a deep breath.

“How many is in each packet?” A voice began behind them, and Charlotte spun around in surprise to find stormy Shane approaching, hands in his pockets. His eyes were also dark, different today. Sullen, but with intelligence behind them. Pierre began to list off numbers while he listened intently, right ear pointing towards him to take in the information.

“Well, you had what, about 20 green bean plants? Then harvested about 90 parsnips…150 potatoes, over the course of three harvests, so you know you have at least 90 spots, but certainly more than that, at least triple,” Shane was mostly talking to himself while Charlottes eyes grew as he spoke, “oh, right, that sad batch of strawberries…and you want those five types of plants, all of them except the wheat keep producing fruit, so get a lot of wheat, less of the rest-”

Pierre followed Shane’s commands, exchanging seeds as he listed out numbers of each type, almost effortlessly “-and that should still leave you with plenty of spacing, shouldn’t be too much on your plate.”

“Wow.” Charlotte was at a loss, looking down at the pile of seed packets in front of her as Pierre rung her up.

“You alright with that?” Pierre looked over his glasses at her, pointing at the number on the register.

“Oh-uhm….yeah, yes.” Charlotte nodded quickly, reaching into her pocket as she raised her eyes towards Shane, rummaging for the bills, “thank you, Shane.”

Shane shrugged and flipped around, continuing his mindless wandering through the store. As Charlotte finished checking out, paper bag around her wrist, she thanked Pierre and searched the aisles for Shane, until she spotted him in front of the freezers.

“I have to say, JojaMart has a much better selection of frozen dinners,” Shane mused, sensing her presence. His hands were firmly inside his sweater pocket.

Play it cool, idiot.

“How did you know all that?” Charlotte immediately started in, questioning him.

“I saw what you had on the farm when I dropped the wood off,” Shane shrugged again, hands balling into fists in his pockets.

“But…okay, well how’d you know how much of what and why?”

“I listen to Marnie,” he spoke nonchalantly. Was he just playing it cool? Or was he really this chill once he got more comfortable?

“That was pretty dope, dude,” she smiled up at him, getting closer. His face began feeling hot, and he turned away from her, pulling open a freezer door to let the chill air hit his mug, “can I buy you a drink at the Saloon later? For your help.”

“I wouldn’t turn down a free drink…” he muttered, still refusing to face her, knowing his cheeks were glowing. “I’ll be there after I drop this stuff off at home. Dude.”

“Okay, I have to drop my stuff off, too,” Charlotte almost felt giddy at his acceptance, even the tease was nice, “I’ll see you at the Saloon tonight, don’t pay if you get there before me! I actually have some extra money now a days.”

“Good for you,” Shane quipped, making his way to the register.

“Okay, see you in a bit,” Charlotte made a bold move: she grasped his elbow gently as she passed him, then quickly made her exit. He flinched at her touch and let out a small “buh” noise. He felt the heat build in his stomach once more.

“Pretty impressive,” Pierre attempted to make small talk as he checked Shane out, but he wasn’t paying attention. He let his mind race, wondering what all this meant. Why did he step in to help her out like that?

What are you playing at?

He fumbled with his wallet to get the money to Pierre, and before he could give him his change, he had already grabbed his bag and raced out of the store, vision starting to feel fuzzy. His eyes darting around the plaza, meeting with Penny’s, who was escorting the kids down the stairs from the playground.

“Uncle Shane?” Jas called out, stopping in her tracks. Then, she bolted full speed at him, raincoat trailing behind her like a cape, “what’d you get me?!”

“You?”

Shit.

“Oh-uh-nothing, sorry kiddo. Just the usual…” he snapped himself out of it and turned his attention to Jas. “Pizzas…”

“No cookies?” Jas’ face fell.

“You can go ahead, Penny,” Shane muttered as he began marching away with Jas in tow.

“Okay, I’ll see you Tuesday, Jas!” Penny called as Shane rushed home, Jas loaded with questions.

“I saw farmer Charlotte just a sec ago, did you see her? She looked nice today. Can we have the pizza for dinner tonight? Maybe after we can play that code game together, or watch a movie! Aunt Marnie could take us into town maybe an-“

“Jas,” Shane stopped, turning to face her. He crouched down to get to eye level with her. Concern immediately painted her face, causing him to feel that everlasting remorse, “I-uhm. I can’t hang out tonight.”

“Why?” Jas’ face dropped, her eyes growing, big and guilt inducing. Her hands grabbed the collar of his sweater, shaking him gently “whyyyy?”

“I have things to do. But tomorrows Sunday, I promise to do those things. Tomorrow, okay?” Jas continued to frown, crossing her arms and looking down at her feet, “we can go into the coop, and I can teach you a few more things?” This got her attention, and she looked up to meet his eyes with a small smile now, “there we go,” he roughed up the top of her hair, and she closed her eyes, batting away his hands.

“Okay, fine,” Jas conceded, continuing their trek with a skip in her step. Shane breathed out a sigh of relief.

You got things to do, huh? Like get fucking plastered.

The farmers face flashed through his mind.

With the farmer.

He breathed in deeply, holding the air in his lungs as he followed Jas. He couldn’t believe he was actually feeling butterflies in his stomach.

You’re gonna get fucked up and embarrass yourself.

Just two beers tonight. “Just two, if you let yourself have too many…” he whispered to himself, trailing off, eyes following the sun on its journey to the horizon.

Charlotte ripped the door of the Saloon open, feeling a renewed sense of excitement.

Is this a date? She didn’t know, but she was buzzing with eagerness at the thought. She swung herself into a stool, and slammed her hand on the counter, “two beers, Emily!”

“Oh!” Emily piped up, head a tilt. “Meeting someone?” her eyes lowered, a smile crossing her face as she grabbed two mugs. “Someone…stormy?”

She had shared the nickname she called Shane in her head with Emily, and now she had begun using it as well, “please don’t call him that when he gets here.” Emily cackled as she filled the mugs.

“I’m not dumb!” Emily remarked playfully, sliding the beers towards her. “Aw-oh my goodness. I’m genuinely elated,” Emily clapped her hands together as she leaned over the counter, “you two are so damn cute.”

“Stop,” Charlotte blushed, hanging her head so her hair was covered her face.

“So, tell me about it, tell me how you set it up,” Emily leaned over the counter, and Charlotte decided to indulge her. Pitter patter of raindrops began to fall upon the Saloon, and Charlotte eyed the window to catch a glimpse of the rain.

Minutes passed, turning into hours. Emily came and went, serving customers, chit chatting with Charlotte. Then the clock struck 9, and Charlotte was still by herself.

Embarrassing…

What else should she have expected? She had no idea why she thought he was actually going to meet her there. He was probably being sarcastic and she hadn’t picked up on it. Typical.

“It’s so strange of him to do this,” Emily mused, trying to comfort Charlotte, her mood shifting into brooding territory, “he’s usually here on Saturday nights anyway, date or not. I hope he’s alright.”

“He’s fine. Pretty sure he’s just avoiding me,” Charlotte said, bitterly, letting a third beer slide down her throat. She was buzzing, feeling irritated, but also despondent.

“Hmmm,” Emily hummed, frowning, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be,” Charlotte sighed, pulling cash out, intending to make her leave, “I’m just dumb.”

“Quit it,” Emily hushed her, eyebrows furrowing. Then, her eyes lifted at the sound of the Saloon door opening, letting in the icy air from the rainy evening, and a smile stretched across her face, “especially since the big dumb storm is here now.”

Charlotte turned in her stool to look at the entrance of the Saloon, spotting Shane, who was pulling his hood down, looking exasperated. His eyes scanned the patrons before landing on Charlotte, who lifted her hand half way to greet him, mouth agape. He hurried over and grabbed the seat next to her, huffing, “where’s my beer, huh?”

“Well-“ Charlotte started, but Emily cut her off by placing a full beer next to Shane, as well as a newly refilled one next to her. She grabbed the handle of her glass and rested her elbow on the counter, turning her body to face him. She squinted her eyes disapprovingly, “pushing it a bit, aren’t you?”

“I never gave you a specific time,” Shane growled, grabbing the handle and pulling the drink to his lips. He shot her a look from the corner of his eye, a twinge of guilt hitting him as she cleared her throat. He had just spent the last few hours convincing himself to go. He had declared it was a sick joke: who would want to actually hang out with him? He was incredibly close to grabbing his vodka and heading to the dock just when the rainfall began, which managed to push him into the decision to just head over to the saloon. At least if she didn’t show, he would’ve been at the saloon either way, drowning his sorrows one way or the other. “Sorry,” he sighed, giving in, “I-uh-had some things I needed to do with Jas…”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Charlotte waved him away, herself now being the one who was feeling guilty, though still unsure of where they stood, “of course. She comes first.”

“She does,” Shane nodded, his shoulder falling inward, hunched over the bar.

“So…you’re a farmer, hmm?” Charlotte asked, trying to get a conversation going. This elicited a small hoot from Shane.

“Uh, no,” he sipped his beer, a tiny smile forming on his lips, “I just have a lot of useless knowledge rolling around up here,” he tapped the side of his head with his free hand.

“You raise chickens though, don’t you? I think Marnie told me…”

“Hardly a farmer in that respect,” Shane rolled his eyes, “chickens are completely different from plants.”

“Well, of course,” Charlotte rolled her eyes in return, taking a swig of the beer, “I’m not dumb.”

“Could have fooled me,” Shane teased, his foot slipping off the metal spindle beneath the stool and bumping into her leg. She gasped slightly at the touch, her leg burning where it hit. “Sorry.”

She shook her head and turned to face the bar. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something else to say.

“Do you…remember me?” Shane spoke softly, staring intently at his beer, teeth clenched together. His jaw was flexing, lips pursed.

Really? Right now?

“What was that?” Charlotte asked, inquisitively. His posture was stiff.

“Never mind,” Shane scoffed, rolling his eyes once more, almost thankful for her ignorance, “you should probably wait to get chicks. You’re way too inexperienced to handle them.”

“Ouch,” Charlotte let a giggle escape at the insult.

“It’s just the truth,” he leaned back, pulling his drink towards himself and opening his shoulders a bit to expose his broad chest, “sort out your plants first, Marnie’s being too forward,” he spoke matter of a fact-ly, “when you’re ready, I’ll get you set up.”

“You are so hot and cold,” Charlotte let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. He looked down at her with raised eyebrows.

Hot?

“One moment you’re telling me to go away, the other you’re helping me. I’m just confused.”

He shook his head at her, twisting his lips to one side. “I’m just surprised that anyone would be interested in talking to me,” he was mumbling, almost ashamed as he shrugged his shoulders.

Charlotte let his words roll around in her head, contemplating them. He was so cruel to her these past few months, why did she keep pursuing his friendship? Is this what she was hoping would happen? The small talk continued, and she slowly began learning more about Shane, and she opened up a bit, as well.

“Environmentalist, huh?” He chuckled, a genuine smile formed upon his face, “my best friend was a geologist, working for an environmental company out there.”

“Yeah? Where? In Zuzu City?” Shane nodded in response. “What’s their name? I might’ve known ‘em.”

“Doubt it,” Shane’s smile immediately dropped, and he became distant again. Her breath caught in her throat at this shift in tone, and she searched for the words to fix it.

“The environmentalist scene is a pretty tight knit group out there, not many of us,” Charlotte snickered, trying to relieve the tension that had so suddenly built up. She had no idea what she did wrong, but she wanted to right it. “Uh-yeah it was not what I was hoping to do with my life.”

“I bet, working for Joja,” Shane relaxed a bit, to Charlottes relief. “One of those situations where they have an ecofriendly department so they can say, ‘hey, look, we’re environmentally conscious, see?’ Right?” His voice had picked up a bit, signaling the end of the tension, feeling more in his element now.

“Yep,” Charlotte nodded in an exaggerated fashion, gulping down the last half of her beer, “exactly. Soul sucking. The bribes…”

“Bribes?” Shane’s eyebrow raised in interest. He set his glass down and turned his body towards hers, his attention fully hers now, “like?”

“Oh, I got your interest now, huh?” Charlotte teased, pinching at his forearm light heartedly. He cracked a smile and recoiled at her touch, slapping his hand over the spot she pinched at. “Mostly just expensive trips, wining and dining, the occasional illegal exotic animal.”

“What?” Shane wheezed, eyes widening, “really?”

“Mhm,” Charlotte hummed, feeling like she was on cloud nine with Shane’s full, undivided attention.

“I bet you have some pretty cool stories,” Shane grinned, glugging down the last of his fourth beer as she nodded.

You said two.

“I can’t wait to hear them,” he chuckled, waving at Emily for another as he pushed his glass away.

Charlotte just couldn’t help pushing him, feeling a warmness growing within her, “you wanna hear my stories?” she questioned, sucking in her bottom lip. He let his gaze meet hers, this time not pulling away. He knew his face was reddening, but the warmness in his belly was emboldening him to let it happen without further thought.

“Why not?” he whispered, letting his eyes travel down her soft face, falling onto her lips. He saw she was biting the bottom again. The fire in his stomach was lit once more, and he couldn’t help but stare, heat growing between them.

“Woof,” Emily teased as she approached with two new beers, pushing them towards the two and breaking their gaze.

“Oh!” Charlotte cried, lowering her head immediately, her self-defense mechanism kicking in to cover her rosy cheeks and nose with her hair. Shane gritted his teeth and shot Emily a look before turning his body back towards the bar.

“This’ll be my last,” Shane rumbled, changing the subject.

“Oh right-uh-mine, too,” Charlotte’s breathing became shallow, her chest tightening. Emily shrugged her shoulders and left them to it, an awkward silence falling over them as they quietly finished their beers. Charlotte pulled her wallet out and laid down some cash, glancing at Shane. “Y’know, I said a drink,” she teased, hoping to relieve some of that friction.

“Seriously?” He glanced up at her, reaching towards his back pocket.

“No, I’m joking,” she put her hand on his forearm, smiling slyly, “just giving you a little taste of your own medicine.” He couldn’t fight a smile from forming on his face, choosing not to pull from her touch this time.

“I guess I could walk you home…” he contemplated aloud, and she raised her eyebrows.

“Or you mean I could walk you home, since your place is on the way,” Charlotte taunted, and he darted her a glance, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll walk you home. Come on, farmer.” Alcohol coursing through his veins, pushing down his better judgement, Shane rose from his seat and grabbed her hand, yanking her from her own seat. She gasped as she stumbled forward and grabbed at the collar of his sweater to balance herself. His hands instantly wrapped around her forearms, steadying her.

“Woof! Woof!” Emily couldn’t help herself as she gathered the money left behind, grinning.

“Shut it,” Shane hissed, ripping his hands from Charlotte’s arms, glancing around the bar. At least it was mostly empty, with just themselves remaining. He glanced at the clock. Midnight. Charlotte couldn’t help but release a laugh as Shane made for the door, expecting her to follow, which she dutifully did.

“Bye!” Charlotte waved as Shane left her to get outside quicker, Emily shooting her a quick wink while she paused to zip up her jacket. She stepped outside, relieved it was only sprinkling now instead of the heavier storm earlier. “Thanks,” she breathed, finding Shane outside, still holding the door for her. They began their walk in silence, passing Emily and Sam’s places, and entering the forest.

As they approached Marnie’s ranch, Charlotte’s pace slowed, “well, thanks for walking me.”

“No,” Shane said, simply, walking past the ranch. Charlotte let intrigue wash over her. He was really going to walk her all the way to the farm. “Come.”

“If you insist,” she sang, jogging to catch up.

“I’m not gonna let Marnie guilt trip me if you end up slipping in some mud on your way home, falling on your ass and crying,” Shane ripped into her a bit, “if it happens to me, that’s one thing. I’d deserve it.”

“Oh please,” Charlotte called after him, rolling her eyes, “it’s not just cause you wanna spend a little extra time with me?”

Maybe.

“No.”

“Hmm,” Charlotte hummed, feeling a little dreamy. The situation didn’t feel real. She had just shared a drinks with stormy Shane, and now she was walking through the forest with him in the rain. What even is this? Her stomach began to tighten, and she was feeling bolder by the minute. As they crossed her property line, they passed the dying crops, and he pointed.

“Yep, just like I thought. You’ll have plenty of space,” Shane nodded.

“You wanna help me plant ‘em on Monday?” Charlotte piped up, the boldness shining through. Shane’s breathing caught in his throat.

“I-uh, I have work…” he whispered, completely confused. “Trying to get free labor out of me, huh? That why you got me the beers?”

“No!” She laughed, finding herself needing to jog to catch up with him, his face suddenly being bathed in the warm radiance of her patio light. “Just wondered if you wanted…I dunno.”

“Wanted what?” He stopped in front of her porch, turning to face her, hands in his pockets. He stopped just short of the overhang, letting the rain continue to fall on him as he looked at her expectantly. She stopped in her tracks, eyes widening as she looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows, leaning forward just a bit, his face instinctively turning a tad to aim his right ear towards her mouth to hear her.

“Do you…want to come inside?” The pit of her stomach burned, her lips parted and her tongue ran over her teeth. Her hands were tightly inside her jacket pockets, and she was now holding her breath, fists clenching. Shane tilted his head downwards, his eyes beginning to squint as he scanned her face. He noted her rosy cheeks, her wet, pointy nose. He noted the way she licked her teeth, and most notably, her glazed over eyes.

He shook his head, “you’re drunk. Keys-” he turned to her front door, holding his hand out for her keys behind him.

“And you’re not?” she laughed, digging into her pockets to pull them out. She let him have them, and he quickly unlocked her door.

“I’m used to it,” he mumbled, pushing the door open. He turned back to grab her hand and pulled her inside. “Get in bed.”

“Okay,” she huffed, her chest feeling like there was a rope wrapped around it, ever tightening. He yanked her towards her bed and almost threw her onto it. Her eyes were wide. He looked down at her, eyes dark.

She could just barely make out his strong jaw and disheveled hair, along with the sheen of his black eyes. He paused to take in the sight of her as long as he could stand it, before turning around.

“Good night,” he was already heading out the door.

“Uh-wai-“ the door slammed shut behind him, leaving her in the darkness. “Damn.”

Fall 1

“Get ready to go, Shane,” Marnie called out the front door to the dismay of two teens.

“Already?” Shane stomped his foot, looking behind him. Marnie ignored his outburst and retreated into the ranch house, leaving them be.

“That sucks,” Charlotte mused, kicking her legs as she sat on the fence holding the cows within it. With an “uhp” she swung her legs up and hopped onto the soft earth, kicking up the dirt around her. She towered over Shane, reaching down to rough up his hair.

“Quit it, Charlie,” Shane grumbled, shoving her hand away, “I’m not a kid.”

“Yeah, you are, look at you! Barely going to the 8th grade,” Charlotte giggled, running away as he charged towards her.

“You’re only a year older than me!” He cried as she slipped into the chicken coop, “get out of there, you’re gonna scare ‘em!”

“Make me!”

The immortal words of kids flirting with one another. Shane smirked and burst into the coop, scanning for her. When he caught her eyes, he charged again and grabbed her by the arms. He couldn’t tell if he was actually stronger than her or if she was humoring him as he easily overpowered her.

“Ow! Shane! That hurts!” She ripped her arms away, glaring at him.

“I play gridball every day, what did you expect when you make fun of me?” He snapped, putting his hands on his hips proudly.

“Gridball star,” Charlotte rolled her eyes, pushing past him to exit the coop. “You gonna try to play this year?”

“It’s a give-in,” he spoke smugly, following her out. She smiled down at him.

“Good luck then,” she awkwardly put out her hand, unsure of how to end their interaction. They had hung out for the past three weeks, as they always did every year for the past few, and each year it became harder and harder to connect. He eyed her hand and then grabbed it, attempting to assert his strength in the shake.

“You, too. Freshman,” he winked at her, causing her to blush just slightly as she ripped her hand away.

“Yeah…” she breathed, pulling her arms behind her back.

“Well…” he started, looking down at the ground. Awkward teens.

“Shane!” Marnie called, “you need to grab your stuff sweetie!”

“Yes, Aunt Marnie!” he called back, turning to look at Charlotte.

“See you next year,” Charlotte began backing away to let him be, but he made a quick, confident decision. He grabbed her forearms and scooped her into an awkward hug. She giggled a bit, but decided to reciprocate. They quickly released and gave each other an awkward nod before she decided to make a b-line for her grandfather’s farm. Shane watched after her until she disappeared, then sadly trudged up to his Aunt’s ranch house.

Summer 8

Shane was feeling confident this year as the bus approached Pelican Town. His father was letting him ride into town alone, he had made it into his upcoming freshman year’s gridball team, and he shot up several inches-even had hair sprouting from his upper lip. He hated to admit it, but he was excited to catch up with Charlie, and for her to see all he’s gotten accomplished. She never told him she was impressed with him, but he could tell she cared.

As he trekked through town, his Aunt Marnie was already heading up the road to greet him.

“Aunt Marnie!” he jogged up to her, pulling her into a hug.

“Shane! My, you got taller!” Marnie laughed, allowing the boy to embrace her. He was taller than her, and stronger, too.

“Yep! And look!” He released her, then bent down and pointed at his upper lip. She let a laugh bellow out of her.

“You’re growing up too fast!” She called, the towns attention turning to them, “quit it!”

“Charlie here yet?” he asked excitedly as they rounded the western corner to her ranch. Her smile fell, which he took note of and mimicked unintentionally.

“She’s not coming up this year, sweetie. I’m sorry,” she spoke gently. He frowned now.

“Oh,” he sighed, looking down, then attempted a joke, “got tired of me?”

“No, no, her parents moved across the state. They can’t afford to send her out this year,” Marnie shook her head.

“Bummer,” he masked his disappointment, holding his head high, “that’s okay. All I need is you and the chickens! And a lot of pizza.”

“Of course,” Marnie let a laugh slip out, relieved that Shane wasn’t too upset, animated as usual.

They continued their happy chatter, Shane filling her in on the details of his life since he’d been gone.

He was blissfully unaware that last year would be the last time he would see Charlotte, until she moved into the farm 15 years later.

#sdv shane #shane fanfic #sv shane #stardew valley #stardew valley shane #stardew valley fanfic #sdv #stardew farmer #sdv shane fanfic #shane fan fic #stardew valley shane fan fic #sdv fanfic #sdv fan fic #archive of our own #The View From Down Here #my fic

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howggswouldreact · 3 years

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🏥 The Personification of Our Love | Kim Lip

Request: kim lip x reader where the reader is pregnant and goes into labor pls ~~~ love your blog ♡♡♡♡ Plot: Jungeun is waiting at the Hospital while Reader is in labor. Jungeun's mind flies to loving memories. Words: 2, 222 Genre: fluff, pregnancy Notes: i use to say "i loved writing this one" because i really do love writing things you all request me. and i loved writing this one. i love to write about things that involve family and friendship, etc. this one is the type to make my heart feel at peace... i hope you enjoy it and have a nice read! ♡♡

Maybe Jungeun shouldn't keep her eyes open for so long, without blinking. At least that's what Haseul was telling her all the time, but she wouldn't be aware of what her friend was saying until hours later, when the white doors were opened and a person wearing blue from head to toe told her that she was finally allowed to enter. For now, she had her hands cupped over her mouth, her feet tapping the floor in a frantic rhythm, her heart pumping blood like crazy.

Why couldn't things be like in the movies, where she could just have a camera filming everything that was going on in that room?

How was it going? How were you? And how was the baby? GOD, WAS THE BABY OKAY?

The movements of her feet accelerated even more and she felt the touch of a hand resting very cautiously on her knee.

"Stop doing that, you're looking like a maniac!", Hyejoo's voice, impatient and at the same time anxious, sounded beside Jungeun.

"I think I'm having a nervous breakdown.", she replied in a low voice, sweat forming on the corner of her forehead.

A huge, vibrant smile appeared in the blonde's vision and warm hands took hers, that were cold, in an affectionate squeeze. Jiwoo.

"How about if we go get something to eat? I'm sure there must be anything good in these machines full of food.”, said her longtime friend.

With a nod and letting Jiwoo guide her, Jungeun was pulled by the arm to a vending machine in the corner of the waiting room. While, in her mind, Jungeun was pulled for a few moments before what would be the greatest moment of her life (along with her wedding day, of course).

8 AM, same day

"Christ! It’s like I'm about to explode!", you said, putting your hand on your belly and feeling a twinge in your back.

"A beautiful, healthy child is going to appear from this explosion...", Jungeun started to speak, slowly approaching the bed, leaning on one knee and then the other. "And this child is very...", her hands landed on your belly, one of them over your right hand. "... very loved!"

"And we haven't even thought about the name of this beloved child yet."

You looked at her with a disapproving gaze.

"I don't want to decide anything right now because I think it will be more exciting to take this important decision when the time comes.", Jungeun shrugged without looking at you, she was very busy stroking your belly button.

"Maybe if you just let me..."

"Don't even think about it. This baby is mine too, you know?", the irritated tone disappeared from Jungeun's voice when her eyes met the playful glow of yours. She smiled.

"You know I would never make a decision like that without you, right?"

She nodded and lifted her body so she could kiss you, but there was a huge belly between the two of you - with a baby on the way in - and you started to laugh.

"Ahhhh!! So close yet so far!", dramatized Jungeun, as she lay down beside you and kissed your forehead and then your lips. "Now, close enough."

10 PM, the day before

"I still can't believe you chose this crackhead to be our baby's godmother...", you whispered to Jungeun, leaning on the doorframe while watching Jiwoo dancing some children's music and doing a super choreography in front of a camera.

Jungeun smiled at you.

"It's not like you didn't say 'oh, babe, I would never forgive you if I didn't choose Jiwoo to be our baby’s godmother', right?"

All the girls were there, they decided to have the first “Girls’ Pajama Party with the Baby” even before the baby was born. Not that you didn't love the idea, but to see Jiwoo carrying that camera everywhere was hilarious. You wouldn't miss an opportunity to make fun of it.

"You have to understand that I have hormones. Many! And they are crazy running back and forth, telling me what to do all the time! It's not like everything I say is valid while pregnant. Plus: I didn’t know she would do this Good Luck Charlie sort of thing."

With a mischievous look, Jungeun brought her face close to yours, smiling like a mischievous child.

"So it means that I am right deciding that the baby's one-year birthday should be Taeyeon-themed."

You gave her an angry look.

"I've been carrying our beautiful baby for nine months. If it were to honor someone on their one-year anniversary, it should be me."

A warm laugh from the bottom of Jungeun's heart filled your ears. She came over and wrapped her right arm around your waist while her left hand was over your protruding belly. None of you had reached such a full level of happiness like this before.

"Don't worry... Taeyeon won't be a party theme, I promise." she kissed your face. "It's so easy to annoy you lately. But there's no need to worry. The one-year anniversary theme will be Harry Potter, anyways."

You rolled your eyes trying to hide a smile. Jungeun noticed it. She always did. She smiled back and stroked your belly once more. It was difficult to know which of you two was most anxious for the family to be finally complete.

5 months ago

"Come on, say something very beautiful and with enough meaning, because then I will edit with a ballad song in the background."

Jiwoo was pointing the camera at you, whose lips were covered with doritos crumbs and ice cream, while Jungeun held up a jar of that same ice cream that you dipped the spoon from time to time.

"I can only think of how bizarre these mixtures become each month, I have no idea what beautiful things I can say.", Jungeun spoke while giving you a judgmental look. “I can’t believe my baby is eating… this.”

"Just say my name, so you will say one of the most beautiful things in the world.", you replied, raising your eyebrows as you dipped the tip of the doritos in the pistachio green and put it whole in your mouth.

"Grooooooss.", Jiwoo hummed as she turned the camera to her face. "I hope you don't have to deal with this often."

You two were at Heejin's apartment, decided to stop by as you were walking around the neighborhood looking for that ice cream flavor. Yeojin and Jiwoo went to meet you. This was yet another visit for the future "aunts" of the baby to come.

"I will definitely deal with them to keep you safe." Yeojin noted, beside Jiwoo and staring at the camera.

"Don't worry. We will protect you from anything that might negatively affect you, even if it means taking you away from these delinquents' arms." Heejin said, joining the other two.

"An army against us?", Jungeun asked as you put one of those doritos in her mouth.

They giggled. Another scene for the baby's life documentary, directed exclusively by Kim Jiwoo.

7 months ago

"Well... maybe we should... maybe we should buy baby things? Or set up the baby's room?", You suggested, astonished by the news that, finally, you were going to have a baby.

With the results of the exam in hands, Jungeun was very quiet on the way home. Parking the car in the garage of the building where you lived together, you waited for an answer to your questions.

Pregnant? Who knew you would be pregnant? Well, it was your dream two months ago. You both decided to make this dream come true. But it was a short while ago, actually. And you were not expecting a positive response so quickly. On the first try? Wow! This was really fast.

You noticed Jungeun's trembling hands and, now that you were pregnant, you would have a child of both of you, increasing the "family with our shape" because it's gonna be "the personification of your love", as the blonde said a few times. You wondered if she regretted it. After all, it would affect both your lives on a large scale, even though it was, at the moment, no more than the size of a bean.

"Look, I... I understand if you don't want to say anything. I will respect your space, but I thought it was our decision and..."

"Could you excuse me for a moment?", Jungeun said, in a whispering voice, and getting out of the car.

You understood that you shouldn't go after her and you were left with no reaction to her words. Meanwhile, outside the car, in the light of the vehicle's white headlights, the blonde of exuberant beauty and small body read the exam again, a growing smile on the pink lips that you loved to kiss so much.

Suddenly, to your shock, she let out a cry mixed with laughter and jumped in the air. It was as if, there, in that deserted garage and with you in the car, there was a space where Jungeun could celebrate it with vivacity. She was just so full of joy!

She was just as happy as you are, obviously! She just needed to find a place to outsource it, a moment when she could be free, a place where she could celebrate it!

Jungeun's hands held the test results as if they were holding the most precious thing in her life. And, somehow, it was.

You flashed the headlights in sync with her leaps and, watching her body turn to the car, her dark brown eyes staring into the glass, you knew what she would say and you both said at the same time, in a whisper only your hearts could hear.

"I love you."

Back to Present – 3 AM

Keeping a packet of m&m's in her jacket pocket, saving it for you to eat later, Jungeun finished eating a strawberry cereal bar, chewing slowly as the girls entered into a conversation to try to calm their spirits. In fact, everyone there was looking forward to you and the baby being well and being able to receive visitors as soon as possible.

Jinsoul told a story of her adolescence and the girls highlighted some parts, asked a few things and laughed. But Jungeun's mind was just a few feet from that waiting room.

Were you in pain? Was the baby finding the way out safely? Was the baby healthy? Were you okay?

She had no way of knowing. She went to the bathroom, the girls followed the blonde head with concern as she crossed the room to the door with a blue sign written "toilet".

When closing the door already inside the bathroom, every sound coming from outside was isolated. Jungeun turned the tap on and felt the cascade of water flowing through her fingers, finding some calm with that, since the only person who could give her the biggest amount of peace was in labor.

She washed her face and dried it with paper, stared at her reflection and realized she was pale. She would only regain color when she could finally see you and the baby.

She put her hand on the door handle again, turning it, and when she closed the door behind her, she noticed that all the girls were standing, staring at the beginning of the corridor. Her face turned in the same direction, where a nurse was standing still, noticed the movement of the woman's lips and the signal for her to follow her on a path. That woman would take Jungeun's to where her heart belonged.

"I wish you were with me... with us at the moment…", you whispered.

"The nurses didn't let me in, babe, but I'm here now..."

Jungeun was almost crouched beside the bed, her face close to yours. She reached up and stroked your cheekbones, touching your forehead with hers.

“How was it?”, she asked.

“It was like I was shitting a coconut.”

Her throat exploded with a pleasurable laugh, making you laugh along, even though you felt a lot of pain in your entire body. Tiredness was overwhelming you, but not enough to see your baby again.

"I only saw our baby for about 5 seconds and I was barely able to see that little face before they did the cleaning and exams."

Your voice was a whisper and Jungeun shook her head, as if she told you not to worry about it, and then she gave you a peck.

When the nurse came into the room and placed the baby in your arms, Jungeun was already crying. She never thought that your love could take on a human shape, so small, fragile and beautiful.

"Oh, God... I love you both so much..." she said, letting those strong tears run down her clean face as she bent down to kiss the top of the baby's head very gently.

That little body, with small hands, gripped her finger firmly and you knew that you would not let anything in the world do anything to destroy that purity. Jungeun felt the same way. Somehow, you knew that. You felt that. Perhaps because you had known her for a long time. Perhaps it was because of love. But you did knew. And she also knew that, whatever happened, her family would always be the homewhere your hearts could rest.

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