#( well of course this is not colored and stuff

[hyperfixationhobo]

MC: Zayne I swear! Stop eating the cake batter!”

Zayne: “Just one more spoonful.”

MC: “You said that seven spoonfuls ago!”

Caleb: “Aw cmon Pipsqueak, he looks adorable eating the batter.”

MC: “We need that batter for the cake, or do you want a really small cake?”

Rafayel: “Wouldn’t be the only small thing he has.”

Caleb: “Says the shortest guy here.”

Rafayel: “My shortness adds to my cuteness.”

MC: “Xavier don’t put that in the batter.”

Xavier: “Too much sugar?”

MC: “No, it’s because that’s salt.”

Xavier: “Oh.”

Sylus: “I finished coloring the frosting.”

MC: “Thanks…Sylus they’re all red.”

Rafayel: “Actually that’s one is carmine, that’s crimson, that there is cherry and that-”

MC: “Eirher way we need more variety. Like pinks and whites and stuff.”

Sylus: “Well I don’t know what to tell you kitten.”

MC: “Well how about ��Ok I’ll go make some more colors’.”

Sylus: “…fine.”

MC: “Thanks you. Xavier that’s not sugar either, let Caleb help you or something.”

Xavier: “I’m a perfectly capable baker.”

MC: “Do I need to remind you what happened last Valentine’s Day?”

Xavier: “…Raf, can you help me?”

Rafayel: “Of course my shooting star.”

MC: “Caleb, how are the decorations coming?”

Caleb: “For a beginner I’d say the fondant cats are looking amazing.”

MC: “…those are cats?”

Caleb: “…I tried my best, ok?”

MC: “Of course you did and they look amazing.”

Caleb: “Thank you!”

MC: “I’ll go grab the heart shaped cake pan and then we’ll-ZAYNE PUT THE FUCKING CAKE BATTER DOWN!”

[theevidenceileave]

Buck moving into Eddie's house to "take care of it" until Eddie comes back, still holding out hope regardless.

He has to bring his stuff over from the loft. Obviously, but he keeps it separate because he doesn't feel like he should disrupt their (Chris and Eddie's) space.

But Eddie stays in Texas and he gives Buck free reign on his house and it hurts his heart but Buck starts finding it easier and easier to change things around because Eddie's house has always felt like home, of course he's gonna take care of it

Even though Eddie's not there.

And then Buck runs into Tommy, who's well meaning but still hurtful when he says this sounds too similar to the Abby situation - Buck acting like a ghost in a house that isn't his, waiting for someone to come back who might not. And Tommy would know, wouldn't he? He just wants better for Buck because he's not evil, but Buck bristles at the idea because Eddie is nothing like Abby, ok? He's everything, and he loves Buck (he said so!), and he's not leaving forever he's just figuring some things ou-

Oh.

That gets Buck where it hurts, and he realizes not for the first time how much he loves Eddie, needs him, and he can't just sit with this on his mind. So he bakes. And he cleans. And he starts moving himself around. He's not a ghost - he's alive and full of love he doesn't know where to put, so he directs it to the house.

If Stress Baker Buck was bad, Interior Designer Buck is a whole other level. His old stuff is moved in and put away, and the cabinets are reorganized. Pictures all over the walls of him and Chris and Eddie and the rest of their family. New paint on the walls, new rug on the floor. Same couch.

Most of Eddie and Chris's things stay. He takes what Eddie's left behind and cleans it, putting them back in their rightful place. With how much he took with him to El Paso, there's enough space in the drawers and closet for Buck's clothes to sit next to Eddie's, and Buck thinks he shouldn't love the way their socks look folded up next to each other as much as he does.

And Chris's room has been mostly untouched since he left, Eddie needing to sit there some days to find comfort in the mess Chris left behind. Eddie had taken some things with him when he left, hoping it'll bring Chris familiarity, and the rest Buck takes himself to sit with him in Eddie's (no, his) closet. A babybox of sorts, because he may not have known Chris when he was a baby but he's Buck's baby regardless, and this small collection of pictures and toys and too-small t shirts is all he has of him right now.

He doesn't tell Eddie. He can't tell Eddie, not because he's afraid he overstepped, but because he'd have explain to him why he chose a paint color exciting enough for Chris and muted enough for Eddie, deciding on a rich color they'd all love. He'd have to explain why Chris's drawing of "family" from when he was 9 is centered on the wall, surrounded by real photos of him and Eddie and Shannon and Buck with wide smiles and heart frames. He'd have to explain why he gets a dog, names it Krypto after his Superman and chooses a breed he knows is good with kids. Why he trains the dog to become a service animal for someone with physical disabilities.

He can't explain without being horribly, terribly obvious, so he doesn't.

But he'll have to, eventually, and sooner than he thinks because Eddie and Chris are coming home to surprise him.

in my little fantasy world where buck moves into eddie’s house while he’s gone, buck keeps referring to everything as eddie’s (i’m at your house, i’m on your couch, i’m in your kitchen, etc), and eddie still hasn’t figured out his feelings but he finds this strangely frustrating. one day eddie finally corrects him (buck, it’s your kitchen), and he means something like “it’s our kitchen,” but he hasn’t found the words for that. and of course, to buck, it sounds like a confirmation that eddie’s never coming back.

[paymechildsupport]

Pleaaaaaaase I need more sukuna and deity!reader!!! The concept is immaculate, it’s scrumptious, it’s delightful!!!! Need more devout worshipper sukuna in my life

YES SIR 🫡

————————— —- ⛩️ ———————————

“Really, is this many shrines necessary?” 

Sukuna thinks your statement is silly, because of course it’s very much necessary. Anything and everything physically possibly dedicated to was necessary. This shrine was as necessary as the dozens of other ones he had put up this week. Many long nights had he stayed up, painstakingly constructing, creating, with all four of his own hands. The many blisters and cuts that adorned his calloused palms a testament to his dedication to the craft. 

The juxtaposition between the harshness of his strikes in battle and the delicate way in which he carefully set up each offering was jarring. You found it odd how such skilled and careful fingers could be the ones responsible for the wasteland of a village you stumbled upon just weeks ago. 

What an odd speciman.

“By the way,” your voice breaks Sukuna out of his trance of concentration, and maroon eyes gaze upon your own, —lines of harsh concentration softening from his face, —“Gods typically don’t accept offerings of human flesh.” What a shock it was a few days ago to all of a sudden be granted the sight of a ripe human corpse, presented humbly as an offering. While it was quite surprising, (and smelly) you couldn’t help but look back on it humorously, almost affectionately. It reminded you of a cat who once gifted dead birds at your doorstep. 

Sukuna huffs. However was he supposed to know gods were apparently above human corpses as offerings? Truly, he was trying his very best— but all this ‘devotion’ stuff was foreign to him. Sukuna was never a man of worship, and as a curse the very impurity of his existence was a spit in the face to any divine entity. Hedonistic lifestyle only takes someone so far, and a devout follower was so far off from his character that his older self would likely look on his current position in disgust. 

And yet, Sukuna simply cannot find it within himself to care. Because being granted your divine presence- let alone your attention- was enough to bring even a filthy beast like him to his knees. 

“Well then,” he asks, not without a sardonic tone, “what kind of offerings are mediocre mortals presenting you with, if not the heads of your enemies?” 

“Rice , fish , sake , meat -“ you give an amused smile, “preferably not of the human kind” 

Sukuna only grunts in response. He could understand the food part. Personally, if he were a higher deity, Sukuna knew he’d want heaps of human meat as an offering. What better gift than another’s life? He thinks any other kind of offering pales in comparison, and human offerings are definitely much lamer than what he could lay at your feet. However, if that was what you wanted, then he would gladly fetch it for you. 

“How… quant.” He says, before turning his attention back to his task 

That afternoon he went hunting, and had Uruame prepare a meal at nighttime. By the time the sun arose, you came back to find a feast grand enough feed a large village, meats of all varieties lavishly laid out, with colorful, lush heaps of vegetables, and enough rice to feed a small family. 

And, (albeit against Sukuna’s strongest desire), not a body in sight. 

——————————————————————

Imagine as a deity you’re so powerful that regular sorcerers and curses are to you like mice are to people, and even someone as powerful and imposing as Sukuna is essentially the equivalent of a slightly larger than average cat 🙌

[s0lar-ch3ri]

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TO @justyouraverageleafykinnie AND @dogboyratgirl TAKE THE SILLIES

tw theyre fluffy and sweet in this so yeah (also long. also will maybe post to ao3 someday idrk)

title is "together we can figure it out!" a bears in trees lyric

this fic features lint from wonderlust as well as wonderlust ocs of my friends :3 (I AM NOT CAUGHT UP WITH WONDERLUST DO NOT EXPECT TO GET FUTURE EP REFS I DONT MIND SPOILERS IM JUST SAYING)

description: It's Aluntine's day (or their world's Valentine's day), and for strange, almost 100% homosexual reasons, Lint can't do anything but find his way back to Apple.

Lint had faced many Aluntines days inside the bakery with his mom, just making cookies. Couples came in, grabbed sweet little treats for their sweet little treats (that isn't incredible wording, maybe he hangs out by Troy too much), and left. It wasn't a lonely time, not when it made business. As he looks across the tables before opening, things feel different.

"You alright Bumblebee?"

Lint half-buzzes back a response. It's not even opening time, he needs to keep it together. Come on!

"Repeat that?"

He buzzes a bit more, less responding to the question and more mumbling to himself. Nothing else is different, nothing's too special about today, well maybe minus...

He leaves the bakery, off to find his sweet little treat.

Apple is not expecting much today. Yes, this time around, Apple could have gone with Lint somewhere nice, however he knew Lint was busy today at the bakery, so maybe he would bug him after. In the meantime, Apple was working on writing something. The plan was simple: finish this, check on the orchard, maybe visit the bakery and see that bee, all that good stuff.

Just like how he changed his life, Lint had changed his plans. With a jumpscare that made Apple fall out his chair, a special bee came buzzing in. All of Apple's panic faded into something softer seeing the culprit of the noise. He sighs a bit.

"Hello, sugarfly."

"I...I feel strange." Lint stands a bit awkwardly in the doorway. Apple repositions himself so they sit up better.

"Go on."

"I thought today was gonna be a normal day, but it just...doesn't. And I didn't know where to go so..."

"Of course." Apple starts cleaning up his writing supplies. He can finish it later.

"Do you uh- how do you ask this sort of thing..."

Apple bleats curiously.

"Do you want to be my Alumni? I just...I don't know. We can uh, hang out, like always, but, special? Not really? Help me out here..."

Apple giggles. "Of course darling."

He buzzes excitedly and Apple can't help but grin at him. I mean, when it's a nice day outside, pretty and basically shining, who could help themself?

"What were you thinking of?"

Lint sinks a bit into himself. Oh cog, he didn't think of something big. Or, uh, anything. What did Mars say? Deep breaths? He takes a couple, in for 7, hold for 6, release for 5. Surely Apple wouldn't mind. He hates liars anyways.

"I uh...I don't know. I just knew I had to come to you."

"That's okay! We can figure it out together!"

Cog that goat was pretty. No, Lint, focus! You have to give them the best date he's ever seen! Just how…

“Maybe a nice restaurant?”

“They may be all reserved out babydoll…”

“Oh…Does my place sound nice?”

“Always does.”

Did it feel silly to take Apple from their house to bee’s? Yes, but to be fair, there were specific things Lint needed there to make sure this was perfect. Apple deserved nothing less.

Walking in, she hears some commotion from the kitchen, mostly just grumbling and the sounds of the assembly of a gift. Looking past his neutral green walls into the kitchen with its purple walls, he sees Troy, bright red and looking just pissed. He angrily puts a ribbon around a set of orchids colored with mint and blue orchids. Despite his pissed…everything, Troy handles the flowers with much care.

“Something wrong Champion?”

“JAX.”

 “Is he-”

“THAT STUPID PRETTY BOY BASTARD ASKED ME ON A DATE BEFORE I COULD AND I NEED TO BEAT HIM WITH MY SLED. ALSO MAYBE KISS HIM.”

“You go do that love.”

Troy stomps by him, grabbing his face gently and kisses his cheek. Lint giggles, which sounds a bit like a buzz. He buzzes a lot. That wasn’t a bad thing, he hopes. Maybe he should just set up the movie.

“We uh, we’ve gotten a lot of movies. There’s Ratatoing- that’s not a good one, there’s Cloverfield, Jax may have left around his strange ‘Ratnarok’ documentaries or something- what interests you?”

“Uhhhh, all of them?”

“Love Rattually it is.”

As Apple helps with selecting the movie, he sets up the couch with its assortment of pillows and blankets. One is plain and fuzzy, a muted green, another a felt one with sunflowers on it. Lint grabs some pretzels and popcorn in the kitchen, he also prepares 2 cups of coffee, one for himself, and one for his heaven send.

Apple is still by the couch, sitting, waiting for Lint. He holds the letter he had planned to give Lint later that day, going over each carefully plucked and nurtured word. Lint had brought lights to his days that he would have known from no other being or aspect of living, the least he can do is give him something of perfection. Lint deserves nothing less.

He adds a couple details to it and carefully folds it so as to not crease it. He hopes it’s good enough. They finish the set up as footsteps come on by them behind the couch. Lint holds his arms around Apple from above as bee places in his hands a cup of coffee.

“Got you a cup! Made with love.” Lint is buzzing with joy, putting his head on Apple’s shoulder. Apple takes this as the chance to pepper him slightly with kisses, but like any well made dish, too much seasoning- well here it just made him giggle and light-heartedly protest.

“Let me put my cup down first angel!” He smiles and snickers and Apple feels his heart flutter around and he gains another reason to love him.

Lint climbs over into the blankets and snuggles up next to Apple as they play some movies, drinking coffee. At certain parts, Apple turns his gaze back to Lint and sometimes Lint’s looking at him. As eyes meet, the boys giggle as they give each other compliments and flirts and kisses. As their binging goes on, their energy simmers down with the time, fading into simple cuddling on the couch. Cups sit on the table, basically empty, with the TV’s hum as natural to the environment as Lint’s buzzing was to him. He adored this bee beyond words.

He carefully wriggles his letter out from his pocket, using the blue light to guide his reading ability.

‘’Dearest sweetest bee I’ve known, Lint

There are many things I want to tell you. I want to tell you how you are the light of my days and how no sun nor star could outshine you. I want to tell you how your voice is a gracious melody, with each note and buzz writing a harmonious tune I wish to hold forever. I want to tell you how I could count the stars that trail the sky and name all the shades of its majesty and not once could I think of a world where it’d be a more beautiful sight then the warmth of your smile. I want to tell you how you’ve taken my world and sculpted it to a more magical and wondrous one then I could have arrived too. I want to tell you how the ideas of love and friendship were carefully taught to me by the wondrous bee you are. I want to tell you how you’re the sweetest nectar I’ve tried and I’ve never felt once a need to find another.

There are many things I want to tell you. Maybe I can settle with a few words. I love you Lint, you are a shining star, thank you, I love you, thank you.

All the love I can give,

Apple’’

He’s still unsure if all he’s wanted to say is there, if that’s what bee would understand is true. Thoughts swarm Apple’s head, like a wasp hive, aiming for his heart. Before he gets lost in his mind, Apple hears a small faint buzz from a special someone under his head. He seemed to have fallen asleep a bit ago. The small reminder grounds Apple and his heart calms down with him. He’s got someone too close to there to be so worried. He remembers Lint’s words before, what he didn’t exactly say but was always there.

I didn't know where to go so I came to you.

Apple smiles a bit, closing his eyes and falling for the background TV ambience himself. Together they will figure it out.

[christopherisfoive]

Underneath It All

Han x reader (College AU)

Note: I miss writing dearly however I can not get myself to do so. I have been reading stuff by others and missing those authors who are away. I hope to be able to read their work again soon xx

word count: 5.4k

I let my eyes wander to the bench where he sat with his friends, talking and eating his lunch. From the curl of his hair to the color of his lips, I was always enamored with his presence. I understood his appeal—the way girls around the school followed him, talking to his friends just to steal a moment of his attention.

I sighed and lowered my gaze to the grapes on my tray.

"I don't understand why you don't just go up to him and talk like everyone else does," my friend Kat said. She always insisted I had the confidence to do whatever I wanted—just like she did.

"It's because I can't do that. I'm not you. Also I don't really get the hype."

She huffed and stuffed one of my grapes into her mouth. I shot her an unserious look, but luckily, she turned the conversation around, and we started talking about finals next week. I tried to lure my brain back to its senses, forcing myself to forget about the puffy-cheeked boy sitting mere feet away.

I hear the screeching of a chair and glance up just as Han stands with his tray. Our eyes meet for a split second. His gaze sharpens, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before his expression hardens—dismissive, like we were kids at the playground and I had just stolen his favorite toy.

“Something interesting?” he says, cocking a brow.

I clear my throat and look away, pretending to focus on the grapes on my tray. “Not at all.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, low enough that only I catch it. When I glance up again, he’s already walking away.

Kat smirks. “Oooooh, tension.”

I roll my eyes and swipe a fry from her plate, ignoring the smug look on her face. I just wanted the next class to come already.

Hours pass, and somehow, I make it to the end of the day. My last class—Art Concepts—is with the least engaging professor in the entire university.

Most days, I can focus just fine, but on select afternoons like this, I find myself sketching assignments for my drawing courses instead.

I usually kept to myself in this class anyway. It just so happened that Han and his two friends, Hyunjin and Felix, were also enrolled.

Today, though, I only saw his friends—no Han in sight.

Fifteen minutes passed, and the professor still hadn't shown up. The room buzzed with quiet conversations, but most students were just waiting. I let my mind wander, zoning out as my gaze settled on the only empty desk beside me.

I didn’t even realize how long I had been staring until a familiar, taunting voice broke through my thoughts.

"Are you, like, alive? Or…?"

I blinked and looked up—straight into Han’s gaze.

I hadn’t even noticed him walk in. But now, standing there with that ever-present smirk, he seemed way too amused. And worse? While I had been lost in my thoughts, I completely missed the fact that this was the only open seat left.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just waiting," I respond nonchalantly, forcing my voice to stay even.

I look away before he can catch the shift in my mood, but I swear he senses it anyway.

Han hums, dragging out the sound like he doesn’t quite believe me. "Right. Just waiting. Definitely not zoned out, looking completely lost in thought or anything."

I scoff, finally glancing back at him. "Do you always narrate people’s lives, or am I just lucky?"

His smirk widens as he slides into the empty seat next to me. "Oh, you’re definitely lucky."

I can feel the warmth of his presence, the slight brush of his arm against mine, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, I turn my focus back to my sketchbook, determined not to let him get under my skin.

But he’s relentless. "You’re awfully quiet now," he says, voice low enough that only I can hear. "You were doing so well with that attitude a second ago."

I glance at him again, my eyes narrowing. "Maybe I just don’t have the energy for you today."

His lips twitch, and he leans in slightly, too close for comfort. "Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere."

I roll my eyes, turning my attention to my sketchbook instead of whatever this was turning into.

I put the rest of my energy into finishing my sketch, hoping the professor would show up—though I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a last-minute cancellation email. My eyelids felt heavy, and my head bobbed every so often, fighting sleep.

Suddenly, I sat up straight, forcing myself to stay awake.

I could feel Han’s gaze shift toward me. His eyes flicked up and down, like he was assessing me. "You good?"

I didn’t even look at him, keeping my focus on my sketchbook. "Yeah. Just… tired."

He tilted his head slightly, clearly intrigued. "Tired? Or just bored?"

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool. "A little bit of both. How about you? Enjoying the show?"

Han chuckled, leaning back in his seat, clearly enjoying the game. "Oh, I’m enjoying it alright. Watching you struggle to stay awake? Priceless."

I bit back a sarcastic reply, but I couldn’t help the heat rising in my cheeks. He was right, and the worst part? He knew it.

"Why did you show up late? Didn’t want to sit with your buddies today?" I ask with a small, teasing smile, barely keeping the smugness out of my voice.

Han quirks an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. For a moment, his usual cocky expression falters. "What, you think I’m avoiding them?"

I shrug casually, keeping my gaze fixed on my sketchbook, though I can’t help but notice how he leans in slightly, probably trying to figure me out. "Could be," I say with a slight smirk, though the truth is, I was just trying to throw him off.

He chuckles, but there’s a certain glint in his eyes now. "You don’t know me as well as you think, do you?"

I smile meekly, a bit of satisfaction tugging at the corners of my lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

He leans in a little, voice dropping. "Or maybe I just don’t need them to have a good time."

My heart skips a beat at the implication, but I don’t let it show. "Really? So you're fine with sitting next to me then?" I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the challenge alive.

He smirks, leaning back again. "Oh, I don’t mind. You make this class way more interesting."

I roll my eyes, not sure whether I should be annoyed or… flattered? Either way, I keep my cool. "Sure, because I’m the life of the party."

Han chuckles softly, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me now. "You’d be surprised."

I sit back in my chair, glancing down towards the front of the class, trying to ignore the slight unease swirling in my chest.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Hyunjin and Felix staring at us—eyes flicking between me and Han. The second they realize I’ve caught their gaze, they quickly look away, though I swear I see the corners of their lips twitching.

I try not to let it get to me, focusing on the front of the room instead, but it’s impossible not to feel like I’ve become the topic of their conversation.

Han, of course, notices their quick reaction too, and I can almost hear the smug satisfaction in his voice when he speaks. "They can’t keep their eyes off us, huh?"

I sigh inwardly, not giving him the satisfaction of looking his way again. "Maybe they’re just bored."

Han leans closer, his voice a little quieter now, like he’s sharing a secret. "I think they know something’s going on. Maybe they’re waiting for us to make a move."

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms, leaning back slightly in my chair. "And what kind of move would that be?"

Han tilts his head, a glimmer of curiosity behind his smirk. "I don’t know… something a little less, uh, distant." His gaze flicks briefly to my face, studying me.

I give him a pointed look. "Distant? I’m not the one leaning in every two seconds."

He chuckles, clearly amused by my response, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. "True. You’re different from the others."

I scoff, leaning forward a little. "And what’s that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs casually, but I can see a slight shift in his posture, as if he’s trying to gauge me a little more. "Just that… most girls are pretty eager to talk to me. But you? You don’t exactly jump at the chance."

I keep my expression neutral, but a little voice in the back of my mind tells me he’s digging for something more. "Guess I’m just not like them."

Han raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Guess not." He leans back in his chair, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than I’m comfortable with. "But it’s interesting, don’t you think? The way you’re not all over me like everyone else."

I don't respond to him. Not because I have nothing to say but because I have this horribly feeling that if I do I'll confess to him about all the times I have thought about talking to him.

I don’t respond to him—not because I have nothing to say, but because I have this horrible feeling that if I do, I’ll accidentally confess to him all the times I’ve thought about talking to him.

The thought hits me like a wave, and my throat tightens. I can’t bring myself to say anything more. If I open my mouth, I might just blurt out all the things I’ve been trying to avoid. All the days I’ve watched him from across the room, imagining what it would be like to just walk up to him and say something.

Instead, I stay silent, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my heart’s picking up speed. I keep my gaze locked on my sketchbook, willing myself to focus on the lines in front of me, even as his presence next to me feels too loud.

Han doesn’t push me for an answer, but I can feel his eyes on me—probing, like he’s waiting for me to crack.

I can feel my heart beat in my ears, each thud louder than the last. My breath catches in my throat, and before I can stop it, I let out a small, awkward cough, hoping it’ll cover up the fact that I’m suddenly drowning in this unwelcome feeling.

I try to look down at my sketchbook, but it’s like the weight of his gaze is heavy on me now. I know he’s still watching, and it makes my skin burn with embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" Han’s voice breaks through the silence, and it’s so much softer than I expect.

I swallow hard, willing my face to stay neutral. "Yeah, fine," I say quickly, trying to sound casual, but I can feel the heat in my cheeks betraying me.

I glance at him, just for a second, and then immediately look away when I realize the intensity in his eyes. Great, now he probably knows I’m acting weird.

I glance at him, just for a second, and then immediately look away when I realize the intensity in his eyes. Great, now he probably knows I’m acting weird.

Han doesn’t laugh or tease this time. Instead, there’s a moment of silence, and then his voice comes, softer than before. "You sure you’re fine?"

I look up at him, trying to keep the nervous flutter out of my chest, but his gaze is a little too intense. I open my mouth to respond, but the words don’t come out immediately. Why is he being like this?

He leans a little closer, his tone casual but with an undertone of something more. "You don’t usually act like this. You, uh, okay?" His eyes flicker to my face, like he’s trying to read me.

For a second, I consider just brushing it off. But the way he’s looking at me—so quietly observant, like he’s seeing through my walls—makes me hesitate. I can’t just say something random and pretend everything’s fine.

I clear my throat, finally forcing words out. "Yeah. I’m just tired."

Han doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he doesn’t push further. He leans back, though his gaze still lingers for a moment longer than I expect. "Alright. Just making sure."

By this time, it's been almost thirty minutes, and the professor still hasn’t shown up. I glance at the clock, my patience running thin. I decide that saving myself by leaving is the best option. The thought of heading back to my dorm and possibly taking a nap on my desk sounds like pure bliss right now.

I start packing my things back into my bag, my mind already half-out the door. I’m just about to zip it up when I rub the exhaustion out of my eyes, feeling the weight of the day settle in.

Before I can grab my bag and head out, I hear Han’s voice again, this time sounding a bit more serious than I expect. "You leaving?"

I pause, the motion of stuffing my sketchbook into my bag halting as I glance up at him. Han’s eyes are no longer playful, and his posture is slightly more upright, like he's actually paying attention to me for the first time today.

I hesitate for a second, debating whether to just walk away or give him some kind of answer. Finally, I shrug, trying to sound casual even though I can feel the heat rising in my chest. "Yeah, don’t think this class is happening."

Han studies me for a moment, and then his lips curl into a small, almost knowing smirk. "You sure about that? I think you just might be missing something."

I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine, but it’s enough to make me stop mid-motion. I stare at him, my hand frozen on the zipper of my bag. Is he serious? Does he want me to stay?

I stare at him for a moment, unsure if I heard him right. His expression has shifted again, no longer playful, but still too hard to read. My heart skips a beat, and I feel a strange pull—like maybe I’m missing something, like maybe he wants me to stay.

I glance at the door, my mind already made up. I should just leave. This class is practically canceled anyway.

But something in the way Han is looking at me makes me pause. Why do I feel like I’m being baited?

He raises an eyebrow, as if he’s waiting for me to say something, but all I can do is stare back, unsure of how to respond. I can’t decide whether it’s his confidence or the curiosity building between us that’s keeping me rooted to the spot.

Finally, I let out a small, almost nervous laugh. "You really think the professor is going to show up?" I try to keep my tone light, but it’s clear I’m still trying to deflect.

Han just shrugs, leaning back slightly in his chair, his smirk returning. "Could be. Or maybe, you're just avoiding something."

I frown, unsure of what he means, but the way he says it catches my attention. He’s not even teasing anymore. There’s something in his eyes—something that makes me feel like he’s trying to figure me out, in the way that only someone who’s actually paying attention would.

I bite my lip, looking back at my bag again, but somehow, I don’t feel the urge to rush out the door anymore. I feel... caught.

Han’s eyes flicker to my bag and then back to me. "You know, I’ve never actually seen you stick around after class." His voice is low, and even though he sounds nonchalant, there’s a subtle weight behind it. "What’s the rush?"

I feel my stomach flip. He’s definitely noticed something, and I’m not sure if I like that.

I bite my lip, my fingers tracing the edge of my bag, the words swirling in my head. It’s you. You’re the reason I feel like I’m in a rush.

But I can’t say that. I can’t tell him that.

Instead, I clear my throat, trying to shake the weight of my own thoughts off. "I don’t know, maybe I just... have stuff to do." The words feel hollow, like they’re coming from someone else, but I push them out anyway, hoping it will stop him from seeing right through me.

Han doesn’t seem convinced, though. His gaze never wavers, like he’s watching for any little sign I might give away. And somehow, I feel like I’m standing completely exposed, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking but is waiting for me to say it.

I shift in my seat, trying to keep my cool. "I don’t like staying after class. Just feels... pointless."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me feel like he’s trying to coax me into admitting something—anything.

I let out a breath, my heart beating just a little faster. There’s this feeling creeping up my chest, like maybe, just maybe, if I told him—if I said the words—something would change. But I can’t.

"Anyway," I say, my voice steady but shaking on the inside, "I should probably go."

I stand up quickly, trying to escape the suffocating tension. I can feel his eyes on me as I move, and it makes my pulse quicken even more. It’s him. He’s the rush. He’s the one who keeps me from leaving. But I can’t say it. Not now. Not ever.

I push through the door of the building, the cool air hitting my face as I step outside. I take a deep breath, hoping the open space will calm my nerves. The campus is quieter now, the usual hustle and bustle having quieted down as students filter out of the building, heading in different directions.

Finally. I’m free.

But as I take a step forward, I hear the sound of footsteps behind me. A little too close to be a coincidence.

I don’t turn around. I can’t turn around.

I keep walking, my steps faster now, almost instinctively, trying to escape this strange feeling gnawing at me. I feel the weight of his gaze even without looking back.

But then, out of nowhere, I hear his voice.

"Not running away again, are you?"

I freeze. My heart stumbles in my chest. Han’s standing just behind me now, a few steps away but enough to make it impossible to ignore him. The teasing tone is still there, but it’s quieter, more deliberate. His presence is almost… unsettling now.

I slowly turn to face him, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I’m sure he can see the flicker of confusion in my eyes. He looks completely unbothered, like following me out here was the most normal thing in the world.

"I’m not running away," I say quickly, my voice a little sharper than I intended. I don’t even know why I feel defensive; it’s not like I owe him an explanation.

Han doesn’t seem to mind my tone. He just looks at me with that same unreadable expression. His eyes flicker toward the building we just came from, then back to me.

"So, what is it then?" His voice is low, casual, but the question hangs in the air like a challenge. "You avoiding me?"

I laugh, but it’s tight, forced. "No, I’m not avoiding you." My stomach twists, but I refuse to let him see how much his words are affecting me.

Han steps closer, the space between us shrinking, and I feel my pulse quicken. "Funny," he says with a half-smile, his gaze intense. "Because it sure seems like it."

I try to step around him, my thoughts a jumbled mess, but Han steps into my path again, blocking my way. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes are serious now. He’s not playing games anymore.

"Are you really just going to walk away?"

My breath catches, but I stay silent, my heart pounding like it’s about to escape my chest. I glance up at him, and he’s looking at me with that same piercing gaze. I feel pinned in place, like I’m stuck between wanting to run and wanting to stay.

I take another step, trying to brush past him, but Han mirrors me, moving just slightly to the side to stay in my path.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s teasing, but there’s a seriousness in the way he looks at me. "You can’t just walk away from this."

I turn my back to him, taking a deep breath to steady myself. He’s not going to let it go.

"What’s your deal, huh?" I snap, spinning around to face him, my voice shaky but loud. I can feel my emotions starting to spiral out of control. "Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep following me?"

His eyes widen for a split second, but then he’s right back to that confident, collected expression. He steps even closer, barely any space between us now. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m just curious."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and before I can stop it, the floodgates open. "Curious?" I laugh, the sound coming out bitter. "You want to know why I’m avoiding you, right?"

I don’t wait for him to answer. The words are spilling out before I can think, like they’ve been locked inside me for far too long.

"It’s you, okay? You… you intrigue me." I wince as I say it, my own voice feeling too loud, too vulnerable. "I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about talking to you all the time, and I just… I just can’t."

I can’t believe I’m saying this. My heart is racing so fast, I’m sure he can hear it. I’m terrified of how exposed I feel, how raw my emotions are right now.

Han’s eyes soften, just slightly, and for a second, I think maybe he’s going to say something comforting, but then his lips curl into a small smile.

"So, you do want to talk to me, huh?" He leans in a little closer, his voice almost a whisper. "Then why don’t you?"

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I want to run away. I want to disappear into the ground and never come back. But I can’t. Not now. Not with him standing there, waiting for me to finish what I started.

I stand there, frozen, my heart pounding so loud I’m sure he can hear it. His eyes are still on me, waiting for my next move, the silence stretching between us like an invisible thread pulling me in.

"So, you think about talking to me all the time?" Han’s voice is a little lower now, almost teasing, but there’s something behind his words I can’t quite place. He steps just a little bit closer, his proximity making everything feel heavier.

I try to pull back, but something in me is rooted to the spot. "I…" My voice falters, and I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze bearing down on me. It’s like he’s waiting for me to crumble.

He watches me for a moment, his eyes glinting with something that I can’t quite name. Then, finally, he steps back just a bit, his shoulders softening, as if he’s deciding to give me space. But instead of turning away, he looks at me with a soft, genuine smile.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," he says quietly. The teasing edge is gone, replaced by something warmer. More real. "I just… didn’t expect you to say that."

The words settle around me like a weight, and for the first time since this entire conversation started, I feel like I can breathe. His presence isn’t overwhelming now—it’s almost comforting. Like he’s not trying to get anything out of me, but just… understanding.

I don’t know why, but the sudden shift in his demeanor makes me feel like I’ve been holding my breath all this time.

"You intrigue me, too," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels almost like a confession, but it’s true.

I can’t look at him directly, not after everything I’ve said, so I focus on my hands, suddenly feeling all too aware of how much I’ve just exposed. My cheeks heat up, and I pray he won’t notice.

But then, Han reaches out, just lightly touching my arm, and my heart skips a beat. It’s so gentle, almost like he’s trying to steady me without saying a word.

"It’s okay," he murmurs, his voice soft, the teasing gone completely now. "You don’t have to explain yourself."

And just like that, everything that had felt so heavy—so intense—begins to soften. The walls I had built up around myself start to crumble in the most unexpected way. I feel my shoulders relax for the first time since I’ve known him, and I can’t help but smile softly.

For a moment, we just stand there, the silence stretching between us like a quiet thread connecting us in ways I never imagined. My heart is still racing, but it’s not in a panic anymore. It’s the kind of racing that feels real, like something is about to change.

Han’s gaze doesn’t waver from mine, and I can feel the weight of everything I’ve just said hanging in the air. His eyes soften just a little, and I wonder if he can feel the shift too. Maybe he’s as caught up in this as I am.

The tension feels like it’s building again, but this time it’s different. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable—it’s something else. I don’t know if it’s the way he’s looking at me, or if it’s because I finally said the truth out loud, but I can’t look away. I don’t want to.

But before I can say anything else, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. My heart gives a little lurch, and I look away just as Hyunjin and Felix come around the corner of the building. Han doesn’t break eye contact with me until they catch up, and then he turns his head slightly, breaking the spell we were caught in.

"Hey, guys," Han says, his tone shifting as his friends approach. They give him a knowing look, and then they glance at me, but they don’t say anything right away. It’s like they’re waiting for him to explain.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling a little out of place. "Hey," I mumble, trying to act casual even though my heart is still pounding.

Han looks over at me, his eyes glinting with a teasing edge again, but there’s something different in his expression this time.

"These are my friends, Hyunjin and Felix." He gestures toward the two of them. "You’ve met Felix before, right?"

Felix gives me a warm smile, his eyes lighting up when he sees me. "Yeah, I think we had a class together last semester!"

Hyunjin just gives me a small nod, his eyes sharp, but he doesn’t say much. I’m sure he’s observing everything, like he always does.

I try to smile back at them, but the conversation feels a little distant now. I’m still reeling from the earlier exchange with Han, and now, with the three of them standing there, I’m not sure what to say.

"Nice to meet you both," I say, my voice a little quieter than usual.

Han catches my eye again, and I can feel the unspoken words between us. The way he looks at me now is different—like he knows something I don’t.

As soon as Hyunjin and Felix join us, the atmosphere shifts again. I notice Felix giving me another friendly smile, but Hyunjin, on the other hand, seems to be observing us a little too closely.

Han looks at him for a moment, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "What?" Han asks, his voice tinged with a quiet warning.

Hyunjin leans in a little, his eyes flicking back and forth between me and Han, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn’t know you were so... chatty these days."

Han’s cheeks flush slightly, and I catch the briefest moment where he looks like he’s about to say something, but he just gives a short, almost dismissive laugh instead. He turns to me, trying to play it cool again. "Don’t mind him, he likes to tease."

But Hyunjin’s eyes never leave Han, and he raises an eyebrow, his tone light but with an edge. "Oh, we can tell."

Felix seems to catch on to the vibe pretty quickly and shoots a look at Hyunjin, trying to diffuse the moment with a casual comment. "It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out, right?"

Hyunjin shrugs, his gaze still lingering on Han for just a moment longer before he finally turns to me with a bright, friendly grin. "Sorry if we’re making things awkward. We’ve just been waiting for Han to make a move for, like, forever."

My heart skips, but I force a smile, pretending I didn’t catch the hint. I look at Han, who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "A move?" I ask, genuinely confused.

Felix jumps in quickly, laughing a little too loudly. "He means just, you know… being less of a weirdo around people."

Han shoots him a glare, and I can see his usual easygoing confidence slipping just slightly. "I don’t know what they’re talking about," he mutters, clearly embarrassed.

But it doesn’t seem like Hyunjin is done just yet. He leans in a bit, looking at Han with a playful, knowing grin. "Sure, sure. But don’t worry, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before you show us how you really feel."

I’m still not entirely sure what they mean, but it’s enough to make my heart race again, a mix of confusion and something I can’t quite place bubbling up inside me.

I glance between them, trying to piece together what they’re saying. Felix and Hyunjin are clearly enjoying themselves, but Han seems... almost caught off guard by their teasing. It’s subtle, but there’s something in the way he won’t meet my eyes, something that makes my stomach twist.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" I find myself asking before I can stop it, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin grins, shooting me a playful wink, his tone light but knowing. "Oh, don’t worry about it," he says, before nudging Felix. "You’ll figure it out soon enough."

I blink, still unsure, but I feel my cheeks start to burn again. My eyes flicker to Han, who's now standing just a little too close for comfort. He’s still quiet, but I can feel the weight of his presence beside me, almost like he’s waiting for me to say something.

My heart is pounding, and I try to brush off the tension, but it’s getting harder to ignore.

As if sensing my confusion, Han finally speaks, his voice softer than usual. "It’s not like that." He glances at me, his gaze lingering just long enough for me to catch the subtle vulnerability in his eyes before he looks away.

The moment feels heavy, and I’m not sure if it’s my racing heartbeat or the silence between us that makes it so hard to breathe. I feel like I should say something, but I’m not sure what to make of any of this yet.

Felix and Hyunjin continue their walk ahead, but I’m left standing there, caught between confusion and something else—something that feels a lot like... curiosity.

I glance at Han again, but this time, he doesn’t look back. Instead, he gives a small, almost imperceptible sigh, like he’s resigned to something. "You should get going," he says, his voice almost gentle.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Yeah… I should." But even as I turn to walk away, I feel his presence linger behind me, and I know that whatever this is between us... it’s not over yet.

[berryispunk]

Insomniacs

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

tags: friends to lovers, insomnia, mental health struggles (ptsd, depression), soft! Frankie, kissing, yearning, swearing, nicknames (hermosa), fluff, idiots in love, no smut, no physical description of reader apart from having hair

summary:  What if you can’t sleep and you call for your best friend to come over and suddenly everything changes ?

word count: 3,1 k

It’s nothing new that you can’t sleep. Dealing with various mental health stuff over the years and chronic pain on top, you should know better. 

You tried every sleeping aid under the sun; meditation, counting sheep, lavender on your pillow and melatonin. Nothing worked, so you started to build your life around it. Midnights became your afternoons to quote Taylor Swift. 

But you were creative, somehow still holding up the hope that it magically gets better or you’ll just get used to it. But it never happened. 

So tonight as the red numbers of your digital alarm clock illuminate your face, mocking you once again, you groan in frustration. You stare at the ceiling, watching the various colored lights of the cityscape dancing around and if you weren’t so damn defeated you would be able to find beauty in this, but you can’t. Not today. You reach for your phone charging on your nightstand and scroll mindlessly through social media. Minutes turn into an hour and you finally sit up in your bed, opening your messages app. It’s 2:30 a.m., who could possibly be awake at this hour? Your international friends? Yeah, for sure. But as you go through your various contacts you stop at one name, smiling to yourself as you press the call button. 

It takes three rings until a familiar deep voice fills your ears. 

“Hello?” the voice murmurs and you immediately feel guilty because you didn’t expect him to have been asleep. His voice sounds exhausted.

“Oh my god. Sorry Frankie, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you apologize and he chuckles softly at the other end. 

“‘s alright, wasn’t really sleeping just… dozing off. What’s up, hermosa? It’s….” he pauses shortly. “It's, fuck, 2:32 at night. What is going on? Are you alright?” The worry in his voice is palpable and it’s one of the things you admire about him.

“Yeah, it’s the same old insomnia again and I figured why not call the one person that gets my pain?” you say apologetically and you can practically hear his smirk. 

“Us good old insomniacs, huh? Is it your brain or the pain this time?” he asks and you sigh heavily in response. 

“Probably a mix of both…” you sink deeper into your cushion. 

Frankie might be the only person you ever met who understands the struggles that come with lack of sleep. His military background and the resulting nightmares made him an ally in the cruel game that called itself life. The two of you spent countless nights like this, on the phone or texting, watching nonsense over whatever TV channel was on but you’ve never done one thing: late-night meetings. 

You weren’t sure if it was a secret agreement the both of you made that late night meetings were off-limits in all the time you’ve known each other, but tonight something felt different. 

“Hey Frankie?”

“Hm?”

“Why have we never met? At night, when we weren’t able to sleep… I mean, you only live on the other side of the city, not the world.”

The other end stays silent and you think you may have overstepped an up-to-now invisible line by asking. 

Then he clears his throat. “Would you want me to come over? You never asked and I never did, because no way in hell I let you wander alone through the night…” he clarifies and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course, ever the gentleman Frankie Morales did not want to risk your safety. 

“Well, what if I’d ask you to come over now?” You hear him swallowing heavily at the other end of line. 

You don’t even know why you’re wanting this all of a sudden, maybe you’ve finally lost your mind. It’s not like there isn’t some underlying tension between the two of you anyway. Mindless flirting and playful teasing is all part of your friendship. 

Frankie is way too trusting for his own good, getting screwed up by his lack of judgement concerning other people and his soft heart, even if he would never let the boys know. They would give him hell about it. But around you he’s let his guard down and you have deep conversations with him about all things going wrong and the few that haven't. He’s one of the few people who know about your troubled youth and strained relationship with your mother. You in turn are one of the few people that know the severity of his PTSD. 

He makes you feel heard like no guy has ever managed to do. He really looks at you when you’re talking and it always makes you feel giddy when he remembers little things you told him a while back. 

You like his attentive nature, but somehow you have never found yourself thinking of him as a potential partner, even if he’s awfully attractive with his broad shoulders and unruly dark curls. His million-watt smile that, if it’s honest, creates little wrinkles around his eyes and makes your own smile widen every damn time in return.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice strained and uncertain. 

“I am,” you say boldly even if you feel anything but.

Fuckin hell, why does your heart beat so fast? 

“Give me 20 minutes,” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. 

You immediately jump up from your bed and panic takes over. What were you thinking? What do you even expect to happen when he’s here? Or worse, what if he expects something to happen? No, he would never. It’s Frankie after all, he would’ve had plenty of chances to make approaches but he never has, always keeping a respectful distance. And now you wonder if he only kept it because you made it seem like you weren’t interested in more than a friendship? 

When you first met him, you actually had a little crush on him but held yourself back because you told yourself he was out of your league and he was in a relationship. Then they broke up, but he was in a new one only a few weeks later. It went on like that for a long time until you were taken. Your ex never liked the boys so you kept your distance and the estrangement grew until you broke up with the guy and picked up your friendships where you left off. 

It’s always been so easy to be with Frankie. You could be yourself around him, no need to pretend to be someone you’re not. He saw you in every state: drunk, crying, bed head and pajamas or all dolled-up for another unfulfilling date. He still looked at you the same and it gave you some sort of confidence you’re usually unable to muster. So right now you don’t even think about changing. You stay in your sleep shirt and shorts, no underwear whatsoever, because it doesn’t matter anyway. The only thing you do is brush your teeth and open the messy bun your hair has been in, making it fall loosely over your shoulders.

For a moment you wonder whether he wants anything specific to drink, but as you check your fridge you see that you have plenty of soda and beer - both beverages you know he enjoys. So you sit down on the sofa, only the soft dim light of the standing lamp in the corner illuminating the room and you grow nervous again. Why, you can’t tell. This isn’t different from all the other times you’ve met him, the only difference being it’s late at night. But then you remember the saying ‘nothing good happens after 2 am’ and you get restless all over again until a soft knock on the door announces his arrival. 

With a few quick steps you open the door, but only a crack and Frankie looks at you, tired brown eyes mustering you. He’s smiling as per usual and holds up a plastic bag. “I brought the pretzels you like so much.” 

You open the door all the way to let him in. He’s wearing grey sweatpants, the standard oil cap which has to be glued to his head at this point, and one of his worn-down band shirts. Sometimes you “borrow” one of them when he doesn’t notice. You’re actually wearing one right now. 

“Hi,” you grin as he places the plastic bag on the coffee table. 

“Hi yourself,” he grins back and his eyes wander over your figure for a moment as his smirk widens. “Is that my shirt?” he asks, one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

“Maybe,” you tease back, mirroring his smirk. “You want it back?” 

He shakes his head, lifting his signature cap to run a hand through his curls before he puts it back on. “Nah, looks better on you anyway,” he says and somehow it makes your cheeks turn a bit warmer.

“You want something to drink?” you ask, clearing your throat. 

“Yeah, a beer maybe? But please tell me you’ve got more than the muck from the gas station? Because that tastes like piss,” he complains and you laugh as you walk over to your kitchen, opening the fridge. 

“Well, good for you I have actual beer, some Corona even if you’re feeling fancy.”

“Oh, I feel very fancy, hermosa,” he laughs and leans over the kitchen countertop as you reach for the beer. You feel his gaze on your backside, but decide to say nothing. 

You place the beer on the counter, a soda in your hand, and the noise of it opening echoes loudly through the apartment. He opens his beer with a lighter before he takes the first sip. 

It’s quiet for a moment before you ask, “How’s that girl you were talking about last week? Cindy or what’s her name?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “You’re asking me about my dating life?” 

You frown, tilting the soda can in your hand before answering “Guess so.” 

“Didn’t see her again,” he simply states and something blooms inside of you. Is it relief?

“Ah, okay…” you say, trying not to let your emotions show too much. 

“And… you? How’s that guy you told me about? Jack?”

“Jacob,” you correct, not that it would matter. You met him once and it’s clear that he’s still very much in love with his ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, Jacob, sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “How is he?”

“Guess he’s fine…I wouldn’t know, as I only went on a date with him once.”

“Oh.” “Oh?” you scoff and he chimes in with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, what else should I say? He didn’t seem like a good match for you.”

“You know, you never said that about any of the guys I dated.”

“They were all losers.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“Shit, I‘m sorry…” he babbles but your eyebrows are furrowed.

“So tell me who’s a good match for me then?” You glare at him. It’s infuriating that he even thinks he’s allowed to judge you when he clearly isn’t better with all the girls he’s dated in the past. 

“Someone who really cares for you and sees you for who you are. Someone who treats you right and would do anything to make you happy, you know…” He’s fiddling with the label on the beer bottle. You just watch him, too stunned to speak as his words strike a chord. You know he’s right and that makes it hurt even more. 

“Maybe I’m just not made for a relationship,” you sigh as you take another sip of your soda, mimicking his stance by leaning across from him against the counter. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” 

“So what? You’re gonna tell me that there’s someone for me whom I just haven't met yet? That I didn’t search long or hard enough? I am 28, Frankie. I am tired of being in the dating pool. I just want… “ you exhale defeatedly. “I just want someone to come home to and who’s as happy to see me as I am to see him.”

“I am happy to see you,” he says quietly and it makes your heart miss a beat. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the same and you know it.”

“Why not?” he asks back, your eyebrows shooting up as he finally looks up from the bottle in his hand and places it onto the next available surface. “You’re a smart girl, hermosa. Don’t tell me you don’t know?” There’s indignation in his voice.

“Don’t know what?”

With one big step he closes the distance between you, standing so close to you you can clearly smell the last bit of his perfume he’s probably worn during the day and most of all you can smell him. The earthiness, musk and warmth are weirdly comforting as he looks down at you. 

“Do I have to spell it out for you or can you feel it as well?” he murmurs when you finally have the courage to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and searching. 

“Frankie, I–”

Suddenly he’s so close, so all-consuming it makes it hard to think. 

“Tell me you don’t feel it and I stop,” he whispers. You feel his breath on your face and the warm feeling inside your chest spreads further. 

Of course you’ve felt that way before, but you didn’t think too much about it, not wanting to risk this friendship that's so important to you. 

“I won’t,” you croak out and he smirks in response, the cocky smile he always has when he is certain about something. 

“Figured,” he continues before adding, “So tell me, how many of these dickheads do you want to date until you give the one guy a chance that really cares about you?” 

“But.. We are…”

“Friends? Yeah, and I want to be so much more than that to you. Do you really think I would drive through the city at this ungodly hour for just anyone?”

You search for his eyes again, slightly blushing and shaking your head. 

He starts playing with a lock of hair, curling it around his thick fingers which makes you incredibly nervous.

“I woke you up, didn’t I? And now you stand here at 3 in the morning… I feel horrible.”

“Well, I don’t. I’m glad you invited me over. Who needs sleep if I can be with you instead?”

You smile at that. 

“I’m still sorry.”

“No need,” he assures you. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now…” 

And his voice drips with honesty as his eyes lock with yours and the intensity of his gaze paired with his words make your breath hitch. Your eyes flick onto his plush lips which look so much more kissable up close and you bite your own lips. He mirrors the movement and suddenly his big hand rests on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek bone as he pulls you a tiny bit closer. You reach for his cheek in return, his patchy stubble tickling your hand and you part your lips as he takes the cue, dips his head and his lips are only a hair's breadth away from yours. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you just nod in agreement.

His lips capture yours in a soft, tentative kiss and your stomach does somersaults. You’ve wondered in the past what kissing him would feel like, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He knows exactly what he’s doing, his lips moving with purpose without being overbearing. The softness of his lips is a stark contrast to the slight scratch of his stubble against your skin. You practically melt into the kiss and you’re certain that no one has ever kissed you like this, so soft but purposefully determined it makes your head spin.

You tangle your hands in the soft locks on the ape of his neck as you deepen the kiss. He’s parting his lips voluntarily so you can invade his mouth with your tongue as his hand wanders from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head. He presses you against the counter with his body weight as his other hand wanders to your hip, his fingers digging into the tender flesh under his shirt. As your tongues dance feverishly his breathing gets uneven, panting into the kiss and you can’t help but smile softly that he gets so worked up over a kiss. 

“You okay?” you whisper as you part to breathe, your foreheads touching. 

“Yeah,” he breathes “It’s just.. Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long so I wanna get this right.”

You take his head between your hands, your thumbs stroking his cheeks now. 

“You’re doing everything right, Frankie,” you smile softly and his face lights up.

“Can I maybe take you out on a date first before I ravish you right here in your kitchen?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, an honest laugh not many people are able to elicit from you. 

“I’d love that,” you say softly and nuzzle your nose against his while his thumb draws small circles over your hip where your shirt rode up. 

Suddenly the tiredness comes back to you as you yawn heavily and he creates some distance to be able to look at you. 

“Do I bore you, hermosa?” “No!” you quickly protest. “But I’m tired all of a sudden…”

“No shit, it’s late. Let’s get you into bed, yeah?” 

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom where you fall headfirst into the pillow with a groan. 

“Frankie?” you call for him, lifting your head up slightly, his name suddenly sounding so big in the quietness of the night. 

“Yeah?” you hear faint footsteps as if he’s about to leave and the thought makes you sad.

“Would you mind staying?”

It’s deadly quiet for a moment before you hear the rustling of sheets and his weight next to you on the mattress. “Not at all,” he murmurs softly and you scoot closer to him, cuddling into his side as he puts his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting against your head. It feels so natural. It feels like coming home. You yawn and close your eyes again. 

“Thank you,” you murmur softly as your hand rests on his chest. 

“Anytime,” he says and then adds, “And just for the record, her name was Clara.”

“What?” 

“The girl I was on a date with, her name was Clara not Cindy. Not that it’d matter anyway because the only person I go on dates with from now on will be you,” he chuckles softly and you grin widely, even if he can’t see it. 

“Good to know,” you say sleepily and for the first time in weeks you drift off into a deep, restful sleep.

my masterlist - in case you're hungry for more :)

most recent work

[factual-fantasy]

24 Asks! Thanks ya'll! 🐼

@holly-opal-2 (Sorry for the late reply!)

Aw <:( I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope that doesn't happen again.

Also of course they are! :}} I have always considered them as such 💞

Thank you! Happy (late) Valentines day! :DD

@stargirldrawsx3

Man, I feel you there. I'm sorry you weren't able to study. I hope things go well for you 🙏

@narrator-girlart

I saw Markiplier play it some weeks ago, but mostly forgot about it.. I was surprised to see it gain such traction on Tumblr. Maybe I'll have to go rewatch those videos and figure out why people love it so much :00 (I cant remember the events of the game 💀)

@dreamweave01

That could work!! :DDD

(ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!😭😭💞💞💞 )

Yeahhh.. I have been battling some health problems for almost a year now. Trying my best to work on it but thing's aren't going so well. <://

Thank you very much though, I hope the same for you! :))

@milk-powrit

Tom Nook is an angel, the "only good landlord" he's been called. And I agree! This might explain why though I didn't read all the way through- just skimmed over it and thought "yeah I think this has the right points"

@necropencil (Referencing this post)

AAA THANK YOU!! :DD

(I am also slowly going insane thanks to Wheeljack XDD)

@badlyblurry

XDD Well its like they say, great minds think alike! Also thank you so much!! :DDDD💞💞💞

AAAAA thank you!! :DD Or- you're welcome? <XDD

@shyzonkstudentlawyer

Oh wow, welcome back! :DD And thank you! I'm trying to try to work on my health and make improvements where I can manage it.. so far things have uh.. Well, it could be worse I suppose!😅

Also AAAA THANK YOU THANK YOU!! :DDD I'm so glad to hear you like what I've made! :DDDD

Now for you questions...

When it comes to the Welcome Home stuff, just imagine our world through a puppet/sesame street style show lens. They have the same food but its all colorful and has silly names. Their trees are like ours but they're crazy colors and grow fantasy fruit. Their technology develops like ours but its all colorful and silly. Etc, Etc-

Now for TADC... I hadn't actually thought about it <:0 maybe Sneemos jester hat things would flail around :0 I haven't thought about it otherwise though😔

Lastly, PFFF XDDD

(Item-dying woes post in ask)

😔You feel my pain.. I feel your pain........

@wolfie-777

:000! You heard it here folks! I'm silly!

She always looks lovely! :))

@tearsofsolace

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! :DDD🥰🥰💞💞💞💞

@eggswastaken

XDD That I did!

..Well, I actually got into it back in 2020-- but recently I have dragged myself back into the fandom a bit. 😂 The biggest obstacle I have to rejoining the fandom fully is just making time to sit down and rewatch the show.

I have such a hard time switching tasks and just doing something 💀 but hopefully I'll get there soon! <:)))

@minnesotamedic186

@little-goober

Oh yeah, sorry! I have very bad memory 😅 I can only really remember people by their profile pictures.

Also thank you so much! :)))

Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰

@bluetootsiepop

My advice is to study references closely. When it comes to making faces up/drawing faces without a reference? Like if its an OC? I'm afraid I cant think of any advice <:( I struggle with that a lot too. 😔

(Also thank you so much!! :DD )

@ourlifestooshort

I have drawn them, but I don't feel comfortable sharing my ref sheets.. Sorry! <:/

I looked up Tailgate with no mask and I will never sleep well again 💀

Also feel free to tell me anything you want about the comics! I don't plan on reading them 😔 I only plan on rewatching Transformers: Prime.

@bitesyoubitesyouchomp

SCEAMSSSS THANKYOUUU 😭😭 THAT'S ALL SO SWEET IM IN TEARS💞💞💞

@beryl-shade

Imagine if my blood was blue XD I'd be a transformer!

[deadhands69]

Cute When You Stutter

loser!Shigaraki x gn/afab Reader

prev ◁ part 5 (final)

[series masterlist]

The league headquarters are quiet tonight, almost too quiet. Everyone has plans for Valentine’s day. Toga is out with her girlfriend. Dabi is doing whatever Dabi usually does at night. Even Spinner managed to score a date with his cute discord friend. 

Well, almost everyone has Valentine’s plans. Not you. Posting so many pictures with your boss, pretending to date him, then burning every bridge you know absolutely cemented your lack of a date or even friend hangout this year. 

Even Shigaraki has been pretty quiet tonight, making almost no noise in his room and you’re not entirely sure if you want to know what he’s doing in there. You’re almost certain he doesn’t have a date either though because you’ve never seen him voluntarily talk to anyone outside of the league. You also left a massive hickey on his neck two days ago which may be a slight deterrent for some people (Toga later asked you if you did this on purpose to keep Tomura to yourself, but admittedly you were just drunk and weren’t thinking that far ahead.)

Maybe it’s boredom or loneliness from being in your room alone all day, but you decide to see what he’s up to. Knocking a few more times than you normally would, you yell out “hey, it’s me,” before making your way into his room.

“Hey,” you walk in to find him on the floor surrounded in legos, sorted by color. “Want some help?”

He debates for a moment before nodding and handing you one of the instruction sheets. You sit quietly in the space next to him, glad for the company. 

“Thanks for hanging out tonight,” you say, pulling a few pieces from the red pile.

“Mmmhm.”

He turns to you with one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Hugging you. Is that okay?” You can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be, considering that he let you sit on his face yesterday. 

“Yeah, it’s just different,” he mumbles into your shoulder, “usually you only get close when you want something or you’re messing with me.”

“I’m not messing with you. At least, not always.” 

He pulls back, looking at you incredulously. “Why else would you do stuff like this? I’m not stupid, I know you just like to fuck with me.” 

“Of course I do, you’re cute when you’re flustered. It’s not like I don’t get anything out of it too though.”

Tomura doesn’t respond, busying himself with a few green blocks as the tips of his ears turn pink. 

A few minutes later, your creation begins to take shape.

“Flowers?” you ask, amused. “You don’t really strike me as the type to decorate with lego flowers.”

“They’re not for me,” he mutters in response.

“Oh yeah? Then who are they for?” You realize the answer immediately after the words leave your mouth. You’re the only person he has ever shown interest in, who else would they be for? He bites his lip, blushing profusely as he stares at you. 

“You were making me flowers, even if you thought I only spent time with you as a joke?” 

“Kind of,” he searches for a specific yellow piece before continuing, “I never actually thought I had a chance with you. But seeing everything this week, I figured you probably don’t have anyone else to buy you flowers. And you’re really cool so someone should. Why not me?”

He looks hurt for a moment before focusing hard on getting a piece to fit properly. 

You think back, trying to remember the last time anyone ever bothered to be this nice to you. Yet here he is doing so without any expectations. Spending hours putting together an expensive lego bouquet when he could easily have just bought you cheap gas station flowers or done nothing at all.

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper, “thanks.”

He smiles at you, subtly scratching his neck. “And you don’t owe me anything for them. Not that I mind everything you’ve been doing, but you don’t have to.”

“No?” you ask, moving a strand of pale blue hair out of his face, “but what if I want to?”

Bringing your lips to his feels natural at this point. You’ve done it so many times now that it’s all you want to do, but it still feels so new to you. He kisses you back with confidence you've only seen him show in battle. You climb onto his lap, legs straddling each side of him.

Your hand slides up his chest, wrapping lightly around his throat. As your thumb brushes over the new scratches, he leans into the touch. Tentatively, you give a little squeeze. He moans. You make a mental note to come back to that sometime. For now, you selfishly want him to last long enough to get yourself off too. 

As the two of you begin to make out more passionately, you drag yourself over his thigh. You're careful not to press too far forward into the tent forming in his pants; remembering how fast he came yesterday. He gets the idea quickly, grabbing your hips with two fingers and a thumb to press you harder into him. Without much contact, he’s already breathing heavily along with you.

You scoot back to pull your shirt off. Slowing down the motion, you watch as his jaw drops at the sight. He fumbles removing his own shirt, decaying it in the process. Like you suspected, he's hot. His baggy clothes covering how toned he is.

“F-fuck,” Tomura mumbles as you slide your shorts off. 

Without wasting time, you find your way back onto his lap. He looks up at you through messy hair, mouth agape and eyelids heavy. You take a second to run your hands over his abs and chest, memorizing the feel of every scratch and scar along the way. When you reach the hem of his sweatpants, you pull them halfway down his thighs along with his underwear. Running your fingers over his length, you give him a few firm strokes. He closes his eyes, hips jumping at your touch. Still grasping him in one hand, you line yourself up and little by little, you lower onto his surprisingly perfect dick. Reaching his base, you pause in amazement. Taking in how how perfectly he fits into you. If you’d known that, you would have stumbled into his room the first time you heard him moan your name while he touched himself at night.

Better late than never though.

As you should have expected, he cums almost immediately. Gripping your hips, his head falls forward as he chokes back a groan. 

“Ah shit,” he pants, “‘m sorry.”

After some reassurance that you take it as a huge compliment, he’s hard again and ready to go.

Once more, you slowly ease your way down him as he stretches you perfectly in the right places. Taking things slow, you lean forward and kiss him. His unruly hair tickles against your nose. He adapts to your slow movements quickly. Since meeting you, he’s gotten better at this, moving his lips gently to dance against yours. 

Emotions flood in, overwhelming you. He’s the grouchiest loser and the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. The symbol of fear who completely melts at the slightest bit of affection from you. His hands destroy everything he touches but you've never felt anything but safe with him. All of the details of Tomura conflict and make sense at the same time, forming into the complex person whimpering sweetly against your lips. 

You rock your hips into his, barely having to move to hit the sweet spot that sends warm tingles through your whole body.

“[y/n], fuck you feel so good,” he whines. 

“This what you imagined every night?” you tease, bouncing faster as your excitement grows.

“B-better,” he gasps. 

He looks so pretty like this. Flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips. He stares up at you with big red eyes, trying desperately not to cum again but you know he’s close.

Fortunately, you are too.

With another snap of your hips, you find yourself crumbling around him. Your movements stutter before slamming down to engulf all of him. This time it’s your turn to grasp his shoulders to keep yourself upright. He lets go at the sight, smashing his face into yours as you both moan into a sloppy kiss. Your breathing slows, you begin to come down, but your lips continue to trace over each other.

“I’ll be right back,” you kiss him again before pressing yourself from the floor to go clean up. You revel in the way he leans wantonly into your every touch, even when he’s on the verge of sleep. 

When you get back to his room, Tomura has collapsed into his bed, passed out from the evening. You’re not far behind. Climbing in next to him, he unconsciously wraps an arm around you.

Laying in his bed surrounded in bags of trash, stray legos, and energy drink cans, you realize you'll have to teach him about cleaning tomorrow.

Through the walls, you listen as everyone slowly trickles in for the night. One by one, they all make their way back to their rooms. 

But not you. 

This time you stay.

↺ series masterlist - bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @kalulakunundrum @jimabbenamara @aryuunachigiri

[classicslesbianopinions]

the other thing about being disabled in academia is everyone is like "yeah we can't do much about the buildings they're old :/" as if "old" being a synonym for "inaccessible" isn't just a constant reminder that the people who built the school did not imagine that someday someone like me might study there

[b4kuch1n]

THEE audiodrama disguised as podcast

[disposal-blueeee]

nny and edgar in the dance club be like

OKAY LOL this is SUPER DUMB but

it all started when @zarla-s sent this video to a gc i'm in saying " edgar goes with nny to the club to go dancing and he sees nny do this and just stands there paralyzed " " DANCE EDGAR nny shouts at him, edgar sways awkwardly back and forth " i was like haha that's so funny when i do have the time i'm gonna animate that i think guess what i did have the time . right now

[liquidstar]

sleepovers save money on hotel rooms while on missions 👍

[reblog-house]

Some things can change.

[koszmarnybudyn]

Sayerhale wip.

[girlbob-boypants]

Me when I cosplay as a straight cop for a pride event, openly say on my blog putting him in pride colors didn't look right, shout for fictional cop pride publicly at the event, people respond with "acab", and then get a bunch of defense posts and free art while the cop pride part conveniently gets left out of all the info defending me:

[as-rare-as-trees]

Me, working on an actual "serious" artpiece: ahah I'll just mess around, sketch and leave it unclean and messy

Also me, working on a meme artpiece: well, I shall do a fully rendered colored piece, or else