#April writes

[lonelychicago]

gonna save me, call me baby

buck/eddie | explicit | one shot | 14.5k words |

“Sorry again, uh, Doctor Diaz.” He says and reaches a hand out to shake it with the man's. “I'm Buck. Evan Buckley, but everyone calls me Buck.” “Eddie. And oh, I thought—” The doctor raises his eyebrows so high that they almost reach his hairline, gaze flicking to Maddie and then back to Buck. “Sorry. You must be the husband.” “God, no!” “Gross.” Both Maddie and Buck say at the same time, making identical, disgusted faces. or; Eddie is Maddie's OB. And Buck is smitten.

read on ao3

[kentocalls]

gojo satoru | from a dream pg13, sad (angst lite) fluff, 2.6k summary: gojo satoru isekai’d into your satoru

It’s warm, his senses inform him. Warmer than usual for his afternoon solo nap on his luxury sofa. He twists, a heavy weight moves with him, on his chest.  Alarm doesn’t course through him, knowing his Infinity wouldn’t allow a harmful presence to get this close to him.  His hands have fallen victim to this presence, barely trapped underneath – whatever – it is. There’s a shuffling, a…humanoid shape on top of him? This person, he realizes, is snuggling closer, a cheek and nose nuzzles into his collarbones, a soft hum of “Satoru, cold.”   His fingers twitch, some part of his brain supplying blankets within reach, he pulls the  fabric around you, unclear what is happening. You  lay in dreamland, sleeping so soundly on his chest.  Not a threat, it would seem. He takes the moment to back track because what is this? What kind of illusion? It’s impossible for him to be trapped in a Domain like this?  But why would a curse want to…snuggle him? It’s odd. He can’t even sense cursed energy from you, from the immediate space, from anything really.  His hands tentatively fall to your form, fingers brushing fabric and exposed skin and you offer up even more softness. There doesn’t seem to be a talisman or spell on you, hiding your energy, keeping him plastered into this sofa. He pauses when you shuffle, pushing yourself further into him. Legs happily tangled, and even there, he notes, there’s warmth.  How does he disarm a Domain like this? There’s a ding! He tenses. As if summoned, your head pops up, eyes big, bright, meeting his baby blues with a smile, “They’re ready!”  He feels his hands clench, is it now? Whatever this sinister plan of yours is, hidden in the scent of chocolate and butter? It’s frustrating how the cold invades the space that was occupied by your form, it’s all adding up now, you’re going to do it. Use your energy and attack. He waits and waits, but it never comes. Confused as he sits up, uncharacteristically silent, the floor feels real. The sofa feels too sunken in to be false, a curse can’t create this as imitation. There’s a tv playing a show or movie, he can’t tell, soft trinkets scattering the console it’s perched on. And photos .  Homely, cozy, s…safe?  Where the hell is he? “Satoru, where’d you put the oven mit?” Using his first name, talking like you know him, what a minx of a curse you are. Drawers are being open and closed, he waits for a sinister fog to overtake him, instead the melody of your humming, as you explore the kitchen. The timer gets another ding! He stands, his body feels softer, hands going to his abs, he has them but also, insulation? His arms aren’t as defined, and what is he wearing?

An off brand tshirt and grey sweatpants? What the hell are these Cinnamoroll socks? And bangs in his eyes? His hair is soft and down?  Wasn’t he in his uniform, where’s his bandana, his eyes can’t be exposed to light like this for too long least he get a migraine–you, you’ve done something.  Pads into the kitchen cautiously, catches you removing the tray of cookies and placing them on top of the stove. “Soon as the timer goes off we can have one…although the chocolate looks so melty…” your hand reaches for one, Satoru knows it’s terribly hot and not a good idea, but what’s a curse coming up with such a domestic scene? Why with Satoru? He was at the high school right? Napping on his sofa– A gentle touch and tug at the top of his head, his eyes find you close. Too close, closer than Infinity should ever allow. His hands come to your hips, wanting to put distance between you two, instead steadying your form as you whisk away the cowlick’s in his hair,  moving long bangs away from his eyes. “There you are.” No. He’s not…there’s no reason for you to be looking at him with such soft eyes. This has to be a Domain, you have to be a curse. Why is your skin so human? Half a very warm, perfectly melted chocolate chip cookie is brought to his lips, “I won’t tell anyone.”  The gleam in your eyes a tad mischievous, a bit secretive, all too adoring. He takes a bite, too real to be fake, but what? Did you put poison in this? It’s all too real to be just a dream. Maybe his unconscious has finally caught up to him, maybe sleeping only four hours a day has backfired, maybe – “Satoru?” How do you say his name with such fondness? Like a delicacy. "You feeling okay?” "I’m…confused."  Honest, transparent, hopeful.  It’s stupid, to think a curse would be this docile and kind towards him, and yet, he doesn’t wager his skepticism as reason enough to lie to you. "Naps do that Satoru, I told you.” You’re pouting, putting your arms around his waist, pulling him in. Like a wave crashing to shore, his form greets your warmth again.  His hands around you, bodies sinking towards another, tender, natural. “It’s Saturday, we’re baking for Yuji’s recital, please tell me you charged the camcorder?” Camcorder? Aren’t smartphones enough? How old are you?  “ Kento insisted on it. You told me you kept one from your college days.” College?  “You’re gonna show me your rugby games later, remember?”  “Rugby?”  He sees you narrow your eyes, this is it, he expects the Domain to show it’s real form now, shift into darkness and danger instead, you pull his cheek. You pull his cheek. Gojo Satoru, The Strongest, getting his cheek pulled by someone…shorter than him. “Mr. Strongest Rugby Star, are you a liar Gojo Satoru?” Probably, maybe, but, why is he finding himself blushing? Grinning? “The Strongest doesn’t need to lie.” It’s playful, that eye roll and huff, the crossing of your arms. He doesn’t want to leave the feeling of your arms around him, pulls your hands back on his waist, hold him for a second closer.  So that he’s close enough to disarm your Domain, afterall. Not like he’s succumbed to whatever this Domain is? Whatever, it feels good, domestic, nice.  “Well The Strongest needs to find the camcorder so we can record our god-son Yuji in his first play.” Our? God-Son? Yuji?  Was Satoru fighting a curse with Yuji? Wasn’t he napping in his office? His brows furrow, he notes your head tilt, “Satoru? Baby are you feeling okay?”  

Your hand in his hair might certainly cure anything, wait, wait. That’s not true, you don’t even have RCT!  You don’t have cursed energy, what the hell?! Satoru snaps away, taking in the rest of the apartment. There has to be a loophole, an opening, a miss, no curse can be that human. There has to be a way out of this Domain. "Ryōiki Tenkai–” "What?” Nothing happens. Satoru looks at his fingers, he doesn’t have cursed energy either? He pulls your hands into an odd symbol, your hands lost in the cave he makes for a second before your middle finger is wrapped behind your index finger, “Say Ryōiki Tenkai.” “Satoru?....Ryōiki Tenkai?” He shakes his head, “No, with more confidence.” “Ryōiki Tenkai.”  You shake your hand a little, smiling up at him, it’s…cute. “Of course if this is already your Domain…and it depletes my cursed energy, there must be a seal I need to break…” mumbling to himself, you do that head tilt again, biting your lip, hand easily finding his cheek. “You okay Satoru?”

At his grin your frown only deepens.  He’s off. Maybe he got lost in one of his documentaries about physics and space, maybe it was something he read, you’re not too sure. Your Satoru tends to go all in once his attention is turned on.  You sigh. “Mmm… I don’t buy it but we need to get going. Where’d you put Yuji’s gift?” He makes a face, “Why would Yuji need a gift?” You shake your head, “I think it was in the closet right?  You hid it when you babysat him last time.” “I don’t babysit anymore…” Perhaps he can irritate you into loosening up your Domain.  You’re an odd curse, all life-like, all human.  It’s an interesting form you’ve taken on, someone cute, someone Satoru would chicken out of talking to. He can’t involve others in the life he leads.  Is that your Domain? Showing him something he’s stuffed away into the bottom of his heart? Meanwhile you’re taking his eccentricity for a conversation later. Lack of sleep? Lack of food? Lack of light, you turn on your heels that pauses his movements, he seems to brace himself – still with that odd grin. “When was the last time you showered?” Satoru lifts his arm to smell himself, “I smell clean.”   It’s not his usual cologne or deodorant combination but it’s nice, softer.  You lean in to smell him too, “You used my perfume again.” He? Again?  No, this is the first time he’s been trapped into your Domain– he’s not your partner, boyfriend, anything–stop! He’s getting pulled further and further into this story.  Damn, you’re a tricky curse aren’t you? All that gentleness is a facade to hide the disdain and violence, “I…can…” He looks up to find you dangerously tip-toeing on top of a very, very, not made to be stood on like that office chair, you’re gonna–shit!  Falling right into his arms, a carefully wrapped gift lands on your chest. “My hero!” Don’t…don’t …he wants to tell himself, but a part of him does give into that expansion in the middle of his chest, spreading a soft hue of pink across his face. “I told you, I’m The Strongest.”   Faster than he can plan for, your lips brush his cheek, “Why thank you Mr. Strongest Satoru, can you please use this strength to pack up the cookies for Yuji? I gotta change.”  He places you back onto the floor, you turn around quickly again, he tenses a little less this time, “ You have to change too.”

“Alright, alright.”  This feels nice.  He’s not sure what the motive of your Domain is but regardless, it feels nice. Maybe if he plays along it’ll end. Whatever this…perfect life seems to be.  Your Domain is so good though, his eyes trace the photos framed on the walls. Moments of a…fake life? Between you and Satoru. A graduation, a birthday, a trip to a lake…baby Yuji? Nanami’s a dad ?   There’s even a photo of this baby Yuji with a baby Megumi and Nobara too. How intricate is this Domain? What kind of curse knows his students and Nanami? His eyes search for more photos of you, only painting a picture of a totally normal human. Not a sorcerer, not a window, not…anything Jujutsu related. And his photos too, why’s he wearing hoodies in all of these? Why’s his hair soft and down, how is he smiling so brightly?  Why the fuck is Suguru alive? “He’s coming too, he’s bringing the companion gift to go with ours. Hurry, go change.”  You again, this can’t be…this can’t be. Don’t look at him like that, don’t bring him a change of clothing, don’t. He starts walking backwards, searching, trying to source where the fuck your cursed energy is but there’s nothing for miles and miles just the sound of traffic and an ambulance. “Where the fuck am I?” “Home…Satoru?”  Your voice quiet, smaller, your eyes showing very human emotion, face riddled with concern. This can’t be real, this can’t be real. Gojo Satoru is The Strongest, he’s a sorcerer, he needs to be out exorcising curses not here in some domestic bliss watching television and baking cookies.

He’s not some physics professor.  He flinches away from your touch, your vixen softness, get away from him. “You’re not…Satoru this joke isn’t funny please stop now.” He walks backwards, and backwards, until he trips on a leftover lego car and lands with the biggest thud.  His head feels heavy, he feels your soft hands on his face again, nails accidentally scratching his chin, voice full of emotion, concern, love? Why would a curse love him? “Baby, Satoru are you okay?” Don’t call him that. Don’t make his heart feel like that. As his eyes close, “Satoru?” “Satoru? “Satoru?”

💎

Gojo Satoru wakes up in his office, the luxury sofa stiff under him.  He sits up, eyes immediately searching for any curse energy, anything reminiscent of your shape, your form, your gentle smile.  “Finally, you back to reality now?” Principal Yaga, “I don’t know what kind of joke that was, don’t do it again.” He sits awake, the air lacking any scent of joy.  “We got a lead on the cursed object…” What the hell was that? 💎

He startles awake, hands over his head, pleading, “No, no, stop coming near me!”  Tumbles through the hodge podge of blankets toppled on top of him, bangs his knee into the coffee table, knocking his lesson notes and laptop to the ground.  “I’m….I’m back…?” A ding sounds through the apartment, he hears footsteps, knows those footsteps, blocks your path to the oven as he encases you in a koala grip hug. “Oh my god, you’re…you…” Kisses the top of your head, fighting all your protests to push away from him and get to the chocolate chip cookies, “Satoru, we are not eating burnt cookies. Move.” “No!” “Gojo Satoru off!”  He only tightens his hold. “No, no, no!” He just woke up from a terrible dream, a ridiculous no good, no happy ending, lonely dream.  He looked hot though. But when is he not hot? “Okay, okay, Gojo Satoru The Strongest, please, let me get to the cookies?” Your hands on his waist as you squeeze his hips. The Strongest? How do you know about that? He pulls you back, hands on your shoulders, leaning down,  those beautiful baby blues searching your eyes, you’re really, you right? You’re really his–”Baby, are you sure your head is okay?”  That soft hand to his cheek, that familiar scent. "I woke up from a bad dream.”  You squeeze his cheek, “Let’s talk about it okay? But the cookies..”  He narrates it, waking up in an empty office, a man, Principal Yana or something, forcing him into a car with a nervous businessman. Then a volcano head attacked him, “Like straight up, Mt. Fuji and all the fire just, fwoosh.”  His fingers make waves above the tuft of his soft platinum locks. "I called your number over and over and it didn’t work.”  That…warms your heart. “You woke up in a dream and looked for me?” He looks at you funny, like you’ve stated the sky is purple, that he stayed in the band with Suguru and they’re touring Australia right now –”Why wouldn’t I look for you?” 

Satoru, pulling you into his lap, pushes his face into the crook of your neck, “They wanted me to fight monsters and I wanted to be here with you. I had abs though.” "You still have abs, Satoru.” Your hand pulls a cookie from the plate, bringing it to his lips, “you know what I mean.” He mumbles while taking a bite. “I was like jacked. I wore this thing on my eyes but I could see everything, I could see like – like –  energy particles, shit I should’ve researched if–”  you grin. He’s falling into his usual auditory processing habit. Enthusiastic about anything physics, the universe, energy particles and atoms and just that look he gets. When he talks about his passions, the way his eyes light up, the way his mind is catching up to his speech, his whole body getting involved in the monologue, pulling you up, “Wait, I gotta write this down.” Refuses to put you down, takes you into the makeshift office and pulls out a dry erase, “They kept calling it Infinity? The force field around me, and then there was this…Ryo…bankai, thing–but babe, it doesn’t make sense, how could one human concentrate–” There he is. Your Satoru.

[aprillikesthings]

in the beds room. straight up "wroting it". and by "it", haha, well. let's just say. My fanfics.

[drjemmanugent]

NEW FIC ALERT: i'll see your true colors

author: drjemmanugent (april) platform: ao3 posted on: 13 september 2024 fandom: bridgerton pairing: penelope/colin (polin) rating: E status: completed chapters: 3/3 summary: “Why did you not tell me?”   Penelope’s heart tenses in quick defense but she promptly realizes his tone isn’t accusatory or pointed, but rather even toned. It’s a vague question, one she wasn’t expecting out of his mouth tonight, but one she had expected to receive again for some time, at least since the night before their wedding.  – or, the one which, in the aftermath of the Season’s events, Colin and Penelope have a long overdue conversation about their past.

STORY PREVIEW UNDER THE BREAK

" Even though her cousin’s husband is a gentleman stepping up in his brother’s stead, Penelope knew Marina’s true heart was too traipsed on after the loss of her true love and Whistledown’s —Penelope’s— denouncement unto the Ton to find love again so soon. Penelope had often hoped there would ever be room in her relationship with Sir Philip for the love Marina deserved, admittedly in a selfishly feeble attempt to assuage her own part in Marina’s outcome.    Such admittance is what drove Penelope, when she revealed herself as Whistledown in her letters to the Queen and Lady Bridgerton, to also send a letter to Marina explaining everything she could, expecting Whistledown’s imminent demise. She had to explain her part in the mess, at least for some sense of resolution, should everything fall to ruin.     Penelope hasn’t received her reply, and by this point, she isn’t sure she ever will. Not that she blames her cousin; Penelope had caused her unpardonable harm, no matter how well intentioned she wished the outcome to have been, for her andfor Colin.     She had planned to tell Colin of her letter, but after the flurry of events at the end of the season, she realizes now she never in fact did. Once again, her intentions did not come to fruition as they should. Now that she’s recalled her letter to her cousin, she decides to bare out her actions.    “So, you have been in communication recently?” Penelope asks, glancing down at her fingers, trying to piece his words together.    “No, I have not written to the Crane residence since….” Colin reviewed the postmark on one of Sir Philip’s notes, “late last summer, before my trip.”   “I have.” Penelope says quietly.   

[aprilslippedaway]

why is my brain trauma dumping on me as I’m seconds away from falling asleep. now I’m suddenly very awake, and also Not Happy.

[fics-by-kentocalls]

masterlist ✩

hi, hello. my name is april. this is a side blog that contains all writings from my main blog --> KENTOCALLS . minors do not interact please as stories can be +18. mostly focused on jujutsu kaisen fics at the moment ♡ just recently writing. requests are open, i do not write gore / cannibalism. expect delays. all dividers belong to saradika-graphics

📝 | all fics tag | read on ao3

Jujutsu Kaisen

❤️ nanami kento ❤️

gojo's fiancé | bodyguard!au, no cheating

tummyaches | singleparents!au

playing house | singleparents!au

affection | regency!au

🩵 gojo satoru 🩵

crazy meets crazy | mercenaries!au

mine | regency!au (bridgerton)

we can't be friends | college!au athletes

supernatural | alien!au

number one | college!au (friends to lovers)

from a dream | isekai fic

💙 geto suguru 💙

motivation | athletes!au, fencer suguru x runner reader. its just spice tho

licentious | just spice

you don't remember me | coworkers!au

someone better |

🖤 ryomen sukuna 🖤

how it started + the morning after + where it goes | failed one night stand!au (complete)

soulless + part 2 + | redstringoffate!au but you & sukuna are not tied together

🤍 kamo choso 🤍

show me | rocker!au its just spice tho

💚 fushiguro toji 💚

love you a latte | sfw. etablished relationship

Kusakabe Atusya

gentleman | regency!au

fiend | draken!au

// NARUTO

📚 Jiraiya

breadcrumbs | nsfw, situationship?

// DUNGEON MESHI

🍳Laios Touden

seven | laios touden, established relationship!, sfw

// WIND BREAKR

🍜 Togame Jo

telegraph | established relationship, sfw, sleepy cuddles

🌿 Umemiya Hajime

captain | military!au, sfw, messy confession

❌ Endo Yamato

slipping under | nsfw, toxic "ex"

(poison) paradise | part two of toxic "ex"

📚hiragi toma

sentimental pt 1. pt 2 | corporate!au

// MY HERO ACADEMY

👍🏼 All Might / Yagi Toshinori

emarald | mafia!au, arranged marraige!au side slice from To Have & To Hold

sparkling | mafia!au, holiday slice from To Have & To Hold

To Have & To Hold | mafia!au

Haikyuu

🍙 Osamu Miya

simple, honest | second chance romance

🦉 Bokuto Kōtarō

always | established relationship comfort

[aprillikesthings]

Me: would a teenager in the suburban midwest use the word "mod" to describe something fashionable in uhhhh late August of 1965

Seventeen magazine: yes

August 1965. 'It all started in London... and now White Stag's brought it home! It's saucy modness, perfect in crispy corduroy shifts, jackets, skirts and pants.'

[creativepromptsforwriting]

good traits gone bad

perfectionism - never being satisfied

honesty - coming off as rude and insensitive

devotion - can turn into obsession

generosity - being taken advantage of

loyalty - can make them blind for character faults in others

being dependable - always depending on them

ambitiousness - coming off as ruthless

optimism - not being realistic

diligence - not able to bend strict rules

protectiveness - being overprotective

cautiousness - never risking anything

being determined - too focussed on one thing

persuasiveness - coming off as manipulative

tidiness - can become an obsession

being realistic - being seen as pessimistic

assertiveness - coming off as bossy

pride - not accepting help from others

innocence - being seen as naive

selflessness - not thinking about themself enough

being forgiving - not holding others accountable

curiosity - asking too many questions

persistence - being seen as annoying

being charming - can seem manipulative

modesty - not reaching for more

confidence - coming off as arrogant

wit/humor - not taking things serious

patience - being left hanging

strategic - coming off as calculated

being caring - being overbearing

tolerance - being expected to tolerate a lot

eagerness - coming off as impatient

being observant - being seen as nosy

independence - not accepting help

being considerate - forgetting about themself

fearlessness - ignoring real danger

politeness - not telling what they really think

reliability - being taken advantage of

empathy - getting overwhelmed with feeling too much for other people

[lonelychicago]

we could be lucky again

buck/eddie | chris & eddie | teen and up | 15.9k words

“Can I help you?” Eddie asks cautiously. Christopher opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His mind blanks. All the scenarios he imagined—the ways this might play out—scatter out like dust. Finally, he manages, “This is gonna be hard to believe, specially for you, but— I'm Christopher. Your son. I, uh, come from the future?” His voice turns higher at the end of the sentence and it makes it sound more like a question than the fact he was trying to announce. Eddie freezes. “What?” His voice is sharp, disbelieving, and his posture gets more defensive. He can see a hint of anger simmering underneath. “Look, man, if this is some kind of sick joke—” Christopher swallows hard, forcing himself to stand straighter. “Dad. It’s me.” or; While working at NASA, an experiment goes wrong and sends Chris years back into the past. This might be the perfect opportunity to fix some wrongs.

read on ao3

[kentocalls]

Bokuto Kōtarō | always pg13, established relationship, comfort happy belated birthday lovely friend @jadedjane 🍰

Summary: A snippet of a softer morning with Bokuto. Please do not attempt Bokuto's jumping at home.

🦉: [1 Image Sent] (Menu) 🦉: Can I PLEAsE bring EVERY appetizer!! 🦉: You would have lunch for days 🦉: Thai tea here SUCKS 🦉: Canceling that from my order 🦉: Iwa is talking about taxes. 🦉: I paid mine …I think 🦉: Did you get home alright? 🦉: So if I came home with no eyebrows

  🥡

It’s the same room, the same cool tile that greets you time after time when energy escapes you. Your phone is buzzing somewhere in the dark void of your apartment. You don’t move, guilt summoning itself from the ground and restraining all your limbs. It was a close call today.  You didn’t sleep well, you skipped that morning shower, you didn’t take the detour to find another coffee shop when yours was closed.  Your eyes had slipped close for a second, a second and that was enough to send the whole day spiraling. The printer stopped working, the storage room key was lost, countless tiny moments that chipped away at your spirit. It’s probably selfish, what you’re doing now too. Turning away from the world. Not a single light turned on, not a single attempt to change your work clothes and put on soft pajamas. You don’t deserve it, your brain supplies. You don’t deserve the softness of nice clothing, a bed or light. Instantly, Kōtarō’s voice breaks through the abyss, “Hey hey hey, can you NOT be mean to my favorite person?” Is exactly what he’d say, to get you out of this funk. You could call him, you should call him. He’d run over in a heartbeat. And yet, you stifle that urge. Bargain with yourself,  it’s a mood, it’s temporary. Still, this sadness grows vines that wrap around you tight.  Everything feels heavy, even the weight of your eyelids. So you let your eyes clothes, if there’s dust mites burrowing into your hair so be it. You can’t be bothered.  Maybe enough of them will take over, claim your body as theirs and you’ll escape the conundrum of a commute, work, cooking and cleaning and adulting. 

All of it.  Later. Tomorrow. Whatever.

  🥡

🦉: [1 Image sent] (a grinning Bokuto & Hinata) 🦉: eyebrows SAFE 🦉: Speaking of 🦉: Location says you’re home 🦉: Whatcha doing?

🦉: Are you watching John Tangerine without me? 🦉: That’s OUR show 🦉: Wait, do you ALWAYS watch it without me first? 🦉: Is that how you know what happens?

🦉: Sunshine?

4 missed calls

🥡

You can’t tell how long it’s been, of you spacing out or falling asleep. Is there a difference?  Your bones don’t ache as much as you thought, the floor suddenly shifted into….soft padding?  Wait a minute, this is your comforter.  And that warmth on your back? That is the body of none other than Bokuto Kōtarō, that little wetness on your shoulder? His drool. You move to turn away but his hands sense your conscious state and pull you flat against him, turning both of you so you’re now his personal heater. “K…Kōtarō….we’re…the floor…” “But I don’t wanna …five more minutes… Sunshine don’t make me–”  a grumble and a turn, his arms tighten and he rolls again until your head smacks the non-pillowed floor. You yelp, he startles awake,a blink, then two, and his giant grin. “Good mornin–why, why the frown?”  thumbs at the pout you’ve adorned. “Where do we normally sleep, Kōtarō?” “On the bed.” he nuzzles at your neck, the scent calming the previous adrenaline down.”Why is that?” “So our backs don’t hurt.” his hands slide up and down the side of your body, oh your clever boy, trying to distract you is he?  “And are we on a bed?” “It’s NOT my fault, you looked so cute, and I thought we could have a sleepover–” “We do, every night.” “I KNOW but, wait…”  He gets up abruptly, rearranges the blankets so you’re covered, a stern, “Do not move.”  before his heavy steps pad into the kitchen. There’s the familiar sound of take out being opened and plated, your microwave beeping and Kōtarō humming along. You can picture him wiggling his butt every so slightly at the 5 second countdown.    Greasy, heavy, deliciousness fills the room as he brings over the reheated plates and spoons. “I need to wash my face–” “I did, I used the wipes, like you showed me, even did the–” he pats his face four times, “that you do after cleaning.” Sweet, your Kōtarō is so sweet.  “So this dish was the tastiest of the bunch. We should start our day with this, and then…” one would think Kōtarō is being bullish. Not pointing out the state of your being, still in work clothes, still a little sad, still a little dazed, defeat trying to pull you back down into a lull–but he’s your Kōtarō.  Treating you the same regardless of the heavy rain that pours in your heart. “Sunshine?”  Graceful athlete, moves the plates up and away as you crowd into his form, surely, his chest has more than enough room for you. Burrow in, hide yourself in his ribs, Bokuto’s arms come to close around you.  Spinning slightly, so he’s supported by the coffee table, hands rubbing up and down your back. He knows, without you saying, yesterday sucked.  And still, you’re his brave brave brave precious sun, who smiled bright, telling him to go to the reunion. That you were simply tired, nothing sleep wouldn’t cure. But nothing even comes close, does it?  To the hugs he gives.  A little too strong, the squeeze never letting up, the scent of his body wash mixed with your shampoo, the way his heart beats proudly in his chest.  This s the place you’ve gotten used to for relief, for ease, for soothing and…”I’m not hungry—” “One bite…” your Kōtarō knows tender, softens his voice in a way that melts away any protest, you take the bite.  He hums at the noise you let out, eyes going bright, another spoonful ready, raised at your lips. “You said one.” “And this is one too–”  Just like that, he makes sure you’re fed, held safe in his arms, watching the way your expression changes with each new dish. He really did bring back every appetizer and despite sleep lingering in his eyes, plated said appetizers carefully so they don’t touch.  

“H…how was the reunion?”   He could talk about caterpillars and you’d listen, watch his face shift and the tone of his voice fluctuate as he parades over the chaotic events.   Enough so that you can slip free from his arms, but not from him. Bokuto follows, of course. Like an owl flies to the moon, he flies close to your light, eager to bask in your comments. Ever so protective of him after all, what does that Kuroo get by flustering your Kōtarō huh? 

🥡

You both make quick work of the morning hygiene routine, Kōtarō insisting today is a pajama day because he hasn’t let go of the idea of a sleepover. Yes it’s the weekend and yes the weather may be nice but it doesn’t compare to the half of you. He wants to indulge, give that playful side of you reason to come out and play. Watches as you indulge in the tiny bit of skin care you have, immediately sitting on the counter, half hanging off, face right into yours, “Me too, Me too.”   

His hair always clings to water, it drips down onto the floor, so you grab a towel, he leans further down, “You’re going to hurt your neck pretty boy, don’t do that.” It’s okay if you have to stand on your tiptoes to help dry his hair.  It’s a rare treat, Kōtarō with his hair down, soft, fluffy, malleable without the gels and hairspray.  Your hand tangles a bit when you check for dryness, “We both need haircuts…” Another thing you’ve failed to do.  

A sigh escapes as Bokuto Kōtarō puts his arms around your hips and pulls you forward, oh so serious, “Why …..” pulls you into a hug, shakes both of you from side to side a little, “no being mean to my favorite person.”  

Oh, you adore Kōtarō, the one who doesn’t limit his love. Moderation? What use is it when he knows how the sun shines in your eyes? How your laugh could light the night sky?  Why should he hold back?  In the home both of you have made, in the mischief you two share?  Hands tracing infinity signs into your skin, maybe if he does this enough a spell will be cast and you’ll stay with him forever and ever. “Hmm, not using the lotion then huh?”  He lifts his head up, a pout already forming, “AKAASHI took it from me! Said his girlfriend would appreciate it more than I do!”  “How rude!” “Isn’t it!” But he’s kinda secretly happy, because now your hands are tracing lotion over his, working it into the calloused palms and his long fingers. Ever so tender, his eyes watching your face full of adoration  “You’re so nice to me.”   

“Because you’re nice to me.” 

He tries, he really really tries. Kōtarō admits it’s taken him a while to slow down, ease out of his incessant drive to do and fix and achieve. You’ve softened him up in all the right ways, helped him learn more and more about social cues. And really, it’s a testament to your teaching and his learning, that he asks, “How…are you doing?...you missed my calls.” “Better, since…you’re here.”   He’s so in love, four words and he’s left speechless, breathless. One hand of yours comes to close his mouth as you drift back to the delicious takeout.

🥡

You do talk to him, about the heaviness, he’d package it all in a luggage and ship it to hell if he could. Takes it upon himself to look up cruise tickets because that's the legal way to ship a human to Antarctica, hell on Earth for someone who hates the cold. “You cannot do that to the penguins, no one would be around my supervisor, Kōtarō.” “REALLY? Because John Tangerine can ship his enemies there? And I’m not allowed to send yours?” He huffs, crosses his arms, indignant.

“Is it because he’s mysterious?”    Why have you, and all your friends, fallen for this actor John Tangerine? He’s heard the way you coo at your phone, the way your friends go to his fanmeets.  He’s …some dude, some guy.  Handsome, sure.  Heck, Kōtarō will admit, John Tangerine has that charisma to him too but…but…”Tell ME. What’s so great about him anyways?”  What does John Tangerine have that Kōtarō doesn’t?  “Is it his hair?”

“You don’t need to be John Tangerine. I like you as you are.” Yeah but it’s John Tangerine movies you watch repeatedly. But you’re giggling and slightly blushing at a cheesy joke John is making on screen.  “Oh, this is the best part, Kōtarō, did you know John practiced this jump…”  Kōtarō does know, you only tell him every time you watch this movie. But he listens anyways, eyes glued to your face, your lips, that happy smile and nose scrunch when John lands on the taxi roof, he has it all memorized already and still it’d never be enough.  It’s probably selfish, what he’s doing right now. Rewinds the scene because you were “talking too loud…” when really, really he wants to see you make those faces again.  Because you always, unconsciously, turn to Kōtarō – cling at his arm and squeeze, like you’re both in on the biggest secret, *gasp* John is the spy! There’s  a list of chores to be done, trash to be taken out, bills to be paid, adulting creeping around the bend and Kōtarō sweeps you into his arms, “I could probably land that jump too!” “Kōtarō, no.” “Kōtarō, yes.” A giggle, moving of furniture, a badly mimicked scenario for Bokuto Kōtarō to recreate the famous John Tangerine jump.   

He does this jump, again and again, until your bellies hurt from laughing, until you fall to the floor clutching your stomachs and even he makes another attempt to jump. Because your laugh is what blocks out the rest of the world, the daunting pressure of being a professional athlete, the fact his last tweet had a glaring typo, that he really wanted you to be greedy and tell him to come home last night. But that’s okay, he’ll keep doing this until all of that doubt clears. That’s his in it for life, with you. 

In the future, when you do eventually call, he wants you to know without a doubt; he’ll drop everything and run right over.  Sure, John Tangerine can cross fences like it’s nothing and woo the ladies and is a professional spy but does John Tangerine have the most precious sunshine holding him this close?

Tracing the softest hands over his face? John Tangerine will never ever know. 

Because you? 

You are Kōtarō’s later, tomorrow, whenever, always. 

[aprillikesthings]

I know I used this metaphor in a rubber-ducking post about my own au fic recently

But it’s SO GODDAMN FUNNY to me how so many spop au fics are like—

if Catra and Adora’s mutual attraction is this huge elephant in the room

Adora can’t see the elephant despite constantly walking right into it

Catra can see it but would like to set it on fire before anyone else sees it

And some combination of the other characters can see it, it’s huge and it’s RIGHT THERE, and they’re face-palming in frustration and dismay because Catra and Adora are fucking IDIOTS

But that’s. Y’know. Accurate to canon.

[drjemmanugent]

NEW FIC ALERT: whatever may come (your heart I will choose) 

author: drjemmanugent (april) platform: ao3 posted on: 13 february 2025 fandom: bridgerton pairing: penelope/colin (polin) rating: T status: completed summary:  “But what if I want to spend more time with two of my most favorite gentlemen?”   “Most favorite?” Colin whips back to see her in exaggerated disbelief. “Pray tell, are there others who rejoice in your favoritism?”   None. Not now, not ever, she thinks. Only the two boys in front of her are most favored in her heart’s mind.   Still, she cannot help her deviousness peeking through when she nonchalantly replies— “A woman has her secrets.”   Turns out, Penelope can also be humorous and cheeky in the small hours of the night.  “Well played, Mrs. Bridgerton. I will never be able to say no to you, will I?”  “Thought you’d be used to that by now.” She retorts with a grin, unabashedly self-satisfied with her win.   – or, the one which, on the eve of baby Polin’s christening, we see Colin and Penelope as a united parental front and completely adorable.

STORY PREVIEW UNDER THE BREAK

“Are you nervous?” Colin speaks up after a few repetitions.  

She was so fixed on his movements with the baby that when she glances up at Colin, his fixed gaze quells the swirling emotions in her chest.  

“Yes, and you?” she replies sincerely. 

“Absolutely.” He voices out with a nod, and his resounding admission makes her laugh slightly, cutting through the wearied tension. 

It’s comforting to know she is not the only one feeling the impending weight of the next day.  

The christening had felt so far away once.  

Being that their child turned out to be a boy and as thus, inherited the Featherington barony by right, the very next day after his birth, the christening date was fixed with the parish for in six weeks. Now at the end of her confinement almost to the day, Penelope and Elliot will face the outside world.  

And, funnily enough, life seems to have a wicked sense of humor.  

Tomorrow, Colin’s manuscript officially turns into his first published book, set to hit the shelves by noon, and the first issue of her newly pardoned column publishes too, both just in time with the start of the Season.  

And Elliot’s christening... 

Now, the timing of such events is not a work of fate—no, in truth, it is a premeditated action-plan.  

A united front of sorts.  

[one-time-i-dreamt]

They implemented a new feature on AO3 where you could curse or bless other users depending on if you liked their fics, and someone sent me a curse that blocked me from reading fics for the next 27 days and I got so pissed off I woke up.

[writer-freak]

April fools' | Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Lilia, Rook, Jade, Floyd and Idia A/n: I myself don't play pranks so calling some of these 'pranks' is probably a stretch but I just wanted to write something small and silly.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had already pranked you too many times today, and it wasn't even lunch yet.

He jumped out around corners just to give you a little scare, even early in the morning while you were just trying to get ready. He also managed to float your notebook just out of reach, chuckling as you jumped for it.

Enough was enough. It was your turn.

You decided to hit him where it hurt, by refusing to say “I love you” back to him all day.

At first, Lilia didn’t seem to notice.

“I love you, my dear,” he hummed, casually pecking your forehead.

You smiled at him sweetly. “…Mhm.”

Lilia blinked. Then, with an amused hum, he simply went on with his day.

The second time, he said it a little slower, watching you closely. “I love you, you know.”

You patted his hand. “That’s nice.”

His smile twitched.

The third time, he leaned in close, eyes twinkling. “I love you~”

You raised a brow. “How wonderful.”

A pause. Then, without missing a beat, Lilia grinned.

“Oh? Is this a game, my love?” His voice lilted with excitement. “Very well… let’s play.”

From that moment on, Lilia made it his personal mission to say “I love you” at every possible opportunity.

“I love you,” he whispered while passing by in the hallway.

“I love you,” he sang as he twirled you suddenly mid-walk.

“I love you,” he repeated in between every bite of lunch.

“I. Love. You.”

By the time you reached your limit, he had taken to standing directly in front of you, eyes filled with nothing but pure, unwavering determination.

“Not even being able to play a little prank on you,” you huffed, arms crossed in faux frustration.

Lilia only smirked, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eye. “Say it, and I shall cease.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He merely raised an expectant brow.

…You lasted five more seconds before dramatically sighing.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I love you, too.”

Lilia beamed. “Ah, victory!” He pulled you into a spin, laughing. “But truly, my dear, you should know, there is no outplaying me.”

You let him twirl you around, still pouting.

You were so getting him back for this, one day.

Rook Hunt

Rook was always poetic. But what if, for once, he was on the receiving end of this endless admiration?

Your plan? Shower him with the most ridiculous, over-the-top compliments all day long.

The moment you saw him in the morning, you clasped your hands dramatically. “Oh, Rook! Your presence alone is like a thousand sunsets! Your beauty could bring even a gargoyle to tears!”

Rook, for once, blinked in surprise. Then, his face broke into an absolutely radiant smile.

“Oh, mon amour, such words! My heart flutters like a bird in the spring!”

Encouraged, you kept going. During lunch, you declared, “Your footsteps are as silent as a ghost’s whisper! Truly, an unparalleled hunter!”

While he was in the middle of practice, you called out, “Rook! Your precision! It’s as if the arrows themselves adore you!”

But nothing that you said shook or embarrassed him. By the end of the day, you were exhausted trying to come up with over the top compliments is more tiring than you thought, but Rook? He looked more energized than ever.

“Ah, such a joyous day! My beloved, your poetic heart has ignited my soul!” He took your hand, eyes shining. “Tomorrow, it shall be my turn!”

…Wait.

Jade Leech

Jade was the master of unsettling pranks. So, you figured, why not turn the tables just for this one day?

Your prank? Simply act as if he was doing something strange even when he wasn’t.

The first time, you glanced at him, then quickly looked away, muttering, “Weird.”

Jade raised a brow. “Oh? What is?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said innocently.

The second time, you stared at his drink for a long moment before whispering, “Interesting choice…” and walking away.

By the time you did it a third time, pausing mid-sentence to glance at his hands, then subtly scooting away, Jade’s smile had turned sharp.

“My dear,” he purred, resting his chin on his hand. “You’ve been acting quite strange today.”

You gasped dramatically. “Me? Strange? No, no, Jade, I think you’re imagining things…”

Jade chuckled. “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind if I did something equally peculiar?”

Before you could react, he suddenly leaned in very close, tilting his head slightly, just enough to unsettle you.

“…April Fools’, my dear,” you squeaked, quickly deciding that this prank wasn't worth whatever could happen next.

Jade only chuckled, sipping his tea. “Likewise.”

Okay. Yeah. You were never pranking him again.

Floyd Leech

Pranking Floyd was a risk. But you were feeling bold today.

So, you did the unthinkable. You swapped his favorite shoes for a smaller pair.

The moment he put them on, he immediately noticed.

“…Huh?” Floyd wiggled his foot. “Why do these feel funny?”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. “Weird, huh?”

Floyd frowned, hopping on one foot, then the other. “Shrimpy, did you do this?”

You gave him your best innocent look. “Do what?”

Floyd stared at you for a solid five seconds. Then, his grin stretched.

“Ohhh, so that’s how it is, huh?”

Next thing you knew, you were being chased around campus, Floyd giggling maniacally.

By the time he finally caught you, you were out of breath, and Floyd was laughing. “Good one, Shrimpy. But just wait—next time, I’m gonna get you way worse~”

…You had a bad feeling about that.

Idia Shroud

You knew Idia wouldn’t leave his room, so you had to get creative. And what better way to mess with him than through his domain?

Hacking his keyboard.

You made it so that every time he typed, phrases like “I love my amazing partner” and “My s/o is cooler than any anime character” would appear instead.

It took a while for him to notice, but when he did

“W-WHAT?!?”

You heard the clatter of his keyboard, followed by frantic clicking.

“Did I get hacked?! No—wait, this is” He paused. His hair flickered pink. “Wait… Did YOU do this?!”

You poked your head into his room, grinning. “April Fools’!”

Idia groaned, hiding his face. “B-Bro, you can’t just mess with a gamer’s setup! That’s like… the ultimate betrayal!”

You laughed, plopping onto his bed. “C’mon, it was funny.”

“…Mmm.” He peeked at you through his fingers. “Fine. But next year, I’m getting revenge.”

Considering he was a tech genius, that was… slightly terrifying.

But for now, you’d enjoy your little victory.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[aprilslippedaway]

something about spring feels like finally taking a deep breath after removing a really tight shirt that you didn't know you were wearing.

[mournfulroses]

Meng Chu, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, from The Orchid Boat: Women Poets of China