#HE HAS A BELL!!!!! THINKER BELL!!!!!

[binniesoob]

YEONJUN : TEMPTATION (nightmare ver.)

[slayagami]

𐙚 synopsis: after losing consciousness in a villain attack, you wake up 2 and a half years later in the hospital. the time doesn't feel long to you, so adjusting to the new updates takes you by surprise. like your boyfriend of 2 years, izuku midoriya, apologizing that he found love elsewhere, in your best friend ochaco uraraka. you find refuge and comfort in your old friend todoroki, who visited you everyday you were out. does new love blossom or do you fight for midoriya back?

𐙚 pairing: midoriya x afab!reader x todoroki

𐙚 warnings:: mild violence, cursing, cheating?, love triangle-ish, angst to fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, depression, nonchalant reader but over thinker, reader struggles expressing emotions, characters are 22

𐙚 readers quirk: poison arrow. can appear a bow and produce arrows that are ingested with poison that can temporarily paralyze or slow down the movement of who was shot. effects lasts roughly 20 minutes but depending on the victim, possible to move but will be slowed down. quirk allows the reader to have sharp sight, and can see farther and more clearer than most. reader has to train to shoot arrows more accurately. strength of poison depends on readers emotions. hero name: artemis.

𐙚 a/n: slow writer </3 3.9k words & might include typos, i finished this at 4:45 am lolz. link to join tag list is at the bottom! [next]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ love again

you remember sitting in your u.a. classroom in your final year, ochako around your arm while giggles left the slip of her mouth laughing at iida’s antics. his stiff arms flailing around the place as he scolded bakugo yet again, red eyes full of irritation and annoyance.

“something’s about this class will never get old!” you laughed as well, holding onto your bestfriend. she agreed, slowly pulling you to the hallway as the lunch bell rang, waiting outside the door for iida and another.

you remember loving your class. loving your homeroom teacher. loving the lunch meals, loving the thrill of training. but most importantly, you loved the flirtatious glances across the room from bright green eyes, the soft pink hue of his cheeks dusting over his freckles, a nervous smile paired with a wave. you loved eating lunch with him, sitting beside him while your knees touched. you loved visiting his dorm room late at night to play games on his switch. you loved going on dates around the city with your hand holding onto his arm while he guided you through town. you loved graduating with him, jumping into his arms in your cap and down and diploma in hand. you loved the way he asked you to be his girlfriend, bringing a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers and a pretty bracelet to your apartment door. you loved how gentle his hands always caressed your body, mumbles of permission being asked against your lips. you loved waking up in the early mornings with his arm over your torso, half naked while drool seeped its way onto your pillows, green hair tousled and scars on his back prominent. the melodic hum when you scratched his scalp, eyes peeking through long eyelashes up at your sleepy face. you loved working under the same agency as him, being sent on missions together and working hard. you loved having parties in your now shared apartment (after a year of dating) and inviting ochako and iida as well as other old classmates.

it was a comfortable life. so warm and loving. maybe that’s why you had this unfair situation happen to you. perhaps being too happy, too perfect, was a sin. but why? why have you been stuck in a void for so long, unable to move or wake up. faint beeping to your right. why did you deserve to be paralyzed for so long, after having everything you wanted. being where you wanted. you lost sense of time, only knowing the inescapable black hole that you seemingly floated aimlessly in. it was dark and cold. so dark that when you finally opened your eyes, even with the lights turned off the room was still too bright. it took you a while to understand where you were. pupils dilating as they adjusted to the low light. you turned your head to the side, eyeing the heart monitor and wires that connected from the machine to your arm, the soft glow illuminating the bed stand. there was a vase of flowers, still fresh, with a small ribbon that wrote ‘mom & dad’ . there was a red button behind the vase above the desk, ‘push for assistance’ and with a slow and sore arm you reached over. almost immediately loud footsteps and hushed yells came from the hallway, the intense flicker of the lights turning on causing you to wince and close your eyes.

“miss y/n! you’re finally up, how are you feeling?” the head nurse walked over with a clipboard, her blue eyes shining excitedly through her glasses. she wrote down on her clipboard while looking at the monitor, pen scratching filling in the silence. now that you had the chance to talk, your throat felt like sandpaper. dry and stiff, so scratchy it made your eyes water. one of the nurses standing around passed a cup to you, pink bendy straw in all its glory.

“what time is it? how long was i asleep?” a nervous glance between the nurses made you uneasy, fully awake now.

“ahem, its currently 3:44am. you were out for almost two and a half years. do you remember anything before you knocked out?”

a throaty laugh mustered its way up, scoff-like. you thought, unbelievable. it had to be some prank. some pro-hero reality show. you scanned the area, looking for possible hidden cameras. but the room was empty. just your heart monitor, IV bag, flowers. you spoke slowly, unsurely.

“i dont. i feel like i woke up a very long nap but im so stiff..” you fixed yourself to sit upright, your lower back tight. with uncertain eyes the head nurse gave an awkward smile, telling another nurse on stand-by to notify your parents. she spoke with a low tone, as if it would ease into her words.

“you were involved with a villain attack two and a half years ago. you fought very bravely one on one with a man who’s quirk went out of control. from what other pro heroes told us, your body had given out due to extreme exhaustion and overuse of your quirk, but your body automatically moved on its own and still fought. we believe the immense stress your brain and body endured is the reason you fell into a coma for so long.”

after the nurse ran your vitals she excused herself, and you spent the rest of your time wracking your brain to try and remember this so-called fight you were in. but you cant recall anything, and to be honest you don’t remember much of anything from before your coma. just the general facts like where you live, your agency, your friends, your boyfriend. but what you did the week before passing out? nothing. you don’t even remember when you had last went to your agency to work, just the general knowledge that you went. it was a strange feeling. almost out of body, like the person you were was you but also wasn’t.

it was 4:00am when your parents walked in the room, teary eyed and elated. your parents’ hair was longer, complimented with a few more noticeable gray hairs. it tugged at your heart not knowing the amount of stress you put them through, engulfing them in a warm hug. you talked for an hour or two, for any updates you should know and if everything the nurse told you was true. a part of you was hoping this was still a stunt. your parents awkwardly gave each other a look while you drank some water, unsure what to say. their hands found place in each other and intertwined their fingers, a thumb from your father rubbing your mother’s hand. it was quiet and still in your room. the clock on the wall ticking faintly in anticipation. you were now propped against your pillows, big eyes waiting for their words. and, almost comically, a knock on the door broke your attention, all three of you turning in curiosity. plush green of hair paired with the emerald eyes you fell in love with two- no, four? years ago. a smile cracked at your lips, your heart skipping at beat at the change of look your boyfriend held. hair that was shorter than before, styled and cut. a tanner complexion, slightly taller in height with new scars on his arms. he seemed more buff too, white tee hugging onto his biceps.

now, your eyes were always more perceptive than most, mainly because of your quirk. maybe thats why finding these differences were so easy for you to see. maybe thats why you noticed his new scars and shorter hair. maybe thats why your eyes trailed to his wrist, a thin gold chain wrapped around. a different bracelet from what you had given him on your one-year anniversary, to match with the old one he bought you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. your smile faded, intuition kicking in. something didn’t seem right. the glare in his eyes wasn’t as bright as before. weren’t excited. his face showed relief, sure, but also uncertainty. uncomfortableness. guilt. but for what?

you spoke softly, unsure. nonchalant. but your eyes held so many emotions. and midoriya knew that. he knew you’d rather be nonchalant when you’re unsure, even if the thoughts in your head are spiraling. he knew everything about you. which is why it was so much harder to speak. to get the words out. his eyes glanced at the machine next to you, the bpm slowly raising. with awkward, stiff steps he walked towards you, stopping at the your side of the bed. his hand held yours, unfittingly. you took note of the uncomfortable look on your parents face. it only made you worry more.

“it’s nice to see you’re finally awake. are you feeling okay? does anything hurt?”

of course, he still cares for you. you can hear it in his voice the hidden feeling of love and affection,

but why hide that?

like its there but he doesn’t want to show it. you can feel the tension in the room, in your neck as you strain to look at him. you told him you were fine, not knowing how to feel. the conversation lingered, all four of you sitting awkwardly in silence. in the background down the hall, faint flip-flop and footsteps made their way in the direction of your room. little gasps of air, brown hair shoving itself through the doorway.

“y/n oh my goodness! i’m so happy to see you’re finally awake!!” ochako squeezed her way to your side, hugging your body with teary eyes. she seemed like the only normal one, the only one expressing her happiness and relief. it was enough to make you feel better yourself, sighing in ease at her side with a light chuckle.

“of course im awake. that would’ve been a lame way to go out.”

she laughed with you, exchanging jokes and a giggle, yet slowly making her way towards midoriya’s side. then your unease came back. the weird gut feeling, the tug at your emotions and brain. you can see the remorse through the green irises. you can feel the thickness in the room. and as much as you wanted to run away from this feeling, you couldn’t. not physically, not emotionally. what in the world happened when you were out? with a quivering voice, midoriya speaks up softly. cautiously. you can practically see his puppy-dog ears folding downwards against his skull. “things changed between us.” you parents escorted themselves out, saying a faint goodbye. midoriya fiddled with his thumb, teeth nipping at his lower lip. you just say and listened. to his rambling, to the way his voice shook and how the back of his food tapped the floor.

“the doctor’s told us many times you weren’t going to make it. that your body would reject the IV fluids and make you ill, or your heart would stop and they’d struggle to start it again. i spent a year in agony, refusing to eat, refusing to work. i never left your side in the hospital. but it make me sick too. i couldn’t sleep, i-… i felt so hopeless knowing there was a huge chance you’d never wake up.” his lip shook with every word like a leaf to a tree, the smallest crack in his voice breaking his sentences.

“and so ochako took care of me. she let me cry, listened to my nonsense, helped with my sleep and motivated me to go to work again…”

“i guess a part of me accepted you weren’t going to wake up, so i allowed myself to grieve and found new love in ochako. she said she the healthiest way for us us if i agreed to be with her even if there was a small chance you woke up and wanted me still. that if you woke up, i’d still choose her.”

you wanted to laugh. now this really had to be a set up. some sick joke. it was unfair. to wake up, and be told by your nurse you've been out for two and a half years. to not even remember you fighting in the first place. to be stuck in a black hole with faint memories of your past. to see your parents age in the slightest ways 'overnight'. to see your boyfriend change physically. to hear your boyfriend say he's in love with your best friend.

to have your best friend betray you.

frankly, you don't know what hurt more. the fact that your own boyfriend, or now ex-boyfriend, the same man who never let you open a single door, pay for a meal, tie your shoes or take them off, order your yourself, walk alone anywhere without him, the man who talked about marriage and kids with you. to just wake up and hear he couldn't "wait" for you. and that he still can't chose you just from a stupid promise.

or your best friend, the one you've known since you were 5, the girl who sat in the rain with you when your parents forgot to pick you up after school, the girl who's seen you cry so hard you threw up after your first boyfriend in middle school, the girl who always chose you over a boy, over anyone. or used to. ochako knows everything about you. she knows you hate super sweet foods because it makes your stomach hurt. she knows you like your coffee on thee slightly more bitter side. she knows you like the fuzzy socks with animal faces. that you attempted to run from home when you were 11 because your parents grounded you, but got lost at the subway station and cried. and especially knows your love for midoriya. ever since you first started being friends, he was all you talked about. she knows how much you talk about him and how he treats you so well, how excited you were when he first held your hand when he walked you home for the first time, or how you cried when you had an argument that almost ended your relationship, how you had a pregnancy scare and couldn't sleep for days. so why? and ochako looked at you with her huge brown eyes, almost hopeful. you can see it, her asking not for forgiveness, but for you to understand where she's coming from. if you can let it go because nobody knew if you would ever wake up. that she should have the right to date him too. that you were too late.

the tips of your fingers grew cold. your face grew even more pale than before, completely losing whatever life you could express. why must the world be so unfair to you? and why couldn't you express the frustrate you felt, the anger, the pain, the betrayal. you had it verbally sorted out in your head, everything you could possibly say to make you feel better by shitting words out, but the lump in your throat refused any noise to slip by. the room was silent, becoming colder each passing second. it was unsettling. the two just stared at you. green eyes filled with guilt, brown eyes with expectance.

you allowed yourself to slump down the hospital bed, trying to calm your beating hard. though the machine just gave it away, beeping at the same pace as you, only increasing as more time passed, the rise of your chest more visible as you kept battling your thoughts.

"i understand it must be hard for you, for your girlfriend to be unconscious for two and a half years and you finding the comfort in our close friend. and i know as heroes we talked about death, and for us to find happiness if we ever lost one another," you could practically see the growing excitement in ochako's eyes, holding onto every syllable that slipped through. was she even ochako anymore? did she even care that you just gained consciousness not even three hour ago? doesn't she not understand that, to you, yesterday you were 20 and today you wake up 22. you ignored her gaze and look dead straight into midoriya's.

"but i didn't die. and i guess it was wrong of me to assume you'd wait in the first place."

you could tell izuku wanted to say something, and you can see the stupid look in his eyes of wanting to be with you, but would rather be a man of his word to ochako instead of you. and ochako? the excited look in her eyes should be illegal. why is she so happy she gets to be with your man? why does she look like she’s accomplished something? did 20 years of friendship mean nothing to her? before she could slip a word out, your assigned nurse came back in with a stack of papers and medications, asking the visitors to leave so she can properly discharge you. her words found no importance in your mind, completely passing through your head as you replayed what just happened, the anxiety kicking in and making the monitor go off again, dangerously high.

but the nurse calmly removed your vital compressor on your arm as well as your IV drip, refusing to ask questions. she stood outside your door and heard everything. but she really didn’t have to. there’s articles everywhere pertaining to your coma and inside scoop magazine’s of midoriya and uraraka’s dating life. you guys weren’t celebrities or anything, but coming from a school like U.A. that documented your every move puts you in the spotlight. you were considered heroes as soon as you got you license anyways.

midoriya was always at the top of his game, having interview after interview, making his name known whether he meant to or not. he became a popular topic for years, and still continues to rise in popularity. and you got your spotlight after being sent to Kyoto with ochako to handle a gang of villains from the LOV in an abandoned building, managing to save three children who got lost in there while fighting off three villains with close ranged attack-based quirks. your quirk is mainly used for medium to long range combat, but you and ochako interned under gunhead and improved your physical combat which stunned citizens and made you a ‘big deal’. you spent 20 minutes using only combat skills and plain arrows to paralyze them, since they always attacked once you pulled your bow out, never giving you an opportunity. you both took a beating, sure, but you both had unwavering confidence and raw strength, causing you to headline for a couple weeks in Kyoto. ever since then, the media has been keeping tabs on both of you, and your relationship.

so obviously everyone freaked once pictures of him holding ochako’s hand went public, a year after your comatose article went viral. he received a lot of hate, especially from his friends. and it was hard for him to be out in public again without being ridiculed. he eventually stopped his hospital visits, the media speculating it was his new girlfriend’s jealousy of her boyfriend visiting his unconscious lover.

“take this medication when your body feels sore, its just some asprin. your limbs shouldn't feel too stiff, our staff helped stretch your body while you were in your coma. this reduced the shock of trying to use them after they were idle for so long. and these pills are supplements to update your body on the natural nutrients it missed throughout the years! come back in two weeks for an MRI to make sure your body is recovering well,” she handed you two bags of pills, and a change of clothes your parents had left before going to work. you took your leave, a stretch of the body with a silent ‘crack’ of your unused bones. it was roughly 8am now, the sky painted in pink and blue’s as the sun rose, rays of sun covering your body in a light hug. you thanked the nurse,

“oh, and before you go!” she chimed, blue eyes sparkling with interest, “i know its not any of my business, but while you were gone the handsome young man with red and white here visited you quite often, you should thank him.”

todoroki? he was a good friend to you, in fact one of your closest friends you shared with midoriya. you sat next to him your second year at u.a. spending time getting to know him as a person. he was always quiet during class, yet you can see how his eyes shone curiously as he eavesdropped on conversations, acting like he didn't care. or how he would engage in the silly activities your classmates did, like fake a protest when the teacher was biased, or twisting the top off a confetti canon as people walked in during your christmas party. most students always thought he was cold, mean and uninterested. you could tell how that affected him too in the long run, your classmates not conversing with him enough or being too scared too. though as the school year went on, more people realized he just wasn't good at expressing so much. and that he was in fact, just really dense. the only one he was ever mean to was his dad, understandably.

and so you spent class throwing pieces of paper on his desk, written in small characters random questions you had about him. when's your birthday? who's your favorite classmate? favorite subject? what manga do you read? it was simple at first. general question to please the curiosity you both held. until the questions turned into late night invitations hang out in his room, playing on his switch at 2am. he was fun to be around, he became sassy and full of snarky remarks as you grew comfortable with each other. his personality seemed much more brighter to you. and you told him a plethora of things, a bunch of tiny secrets you kept to yourself. throughout each time you saw each other, you grew to understand each other more and more.

“i dont know if i like him or if i just think hes cute..” you hummed, face squished on his silk pillows as you laid on your side. he sat on the floor, back questionably straight as he played on his switch. a piece of cookie stuck out of his mouth, “you and ochaco both like midoriya? isnt that.. against girl code, or whatever you told me?” blue and grey orbs flicker across your face through his bangs, a hidden emotion dwelling in the depths. cookie crumbs lingered on the corners of his lip, moving his attention back to the mini screen in his lap. you laughed naively, hand reaching out to wipe his face.

“oh, she doesnt like him! she said she only sees him as a friend,” the softest shades on pink touched the tips of his cheeks, his face heating up unbeknownst to you. nimble fingers stopped fidgeting at the buttons, peeking once more to look at you, though to his dismay your eyes remained elsewhere, distant. “and you? is it true you have a thing for yaoyaorozu?” your eyebrows wiggled, giggling like a child finding out these simple secrets. everyone in 2-a knew yaoyaorozu had the mushy-gushy for your bi-colored friend, it was a topic always brought up during parties when the two sexes were separated in their respective rooms, desperately seeking gossip. todoroki remained silent for a minute, a soft huff puffing out his chest. “yeah, i like her.” sure, he liked her. she was smart, intuitive, intelligent, diligent, a great leader. anyone would like yaoyaorozu. she came from money yet never expressed that she was better than anyone else, she was generous and humble, kind. everyone liked her. but in todoroki’s eyes, you can see he longed for something else

tag list @c0sm1cstqrsx @aliceblossoms @0b1wan @obeythehuman @whippedbyikemen @faimmm @sagejin @gummy-toes @seobstarr

[binniebakery]

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Non Idol AU Soobin x Fem!Reader, Fluff!

♡ Summary: For years, Soobin has had the biggest crush on the daughter of the town's local bakery and flower shop. Just when Soobin decides he's comfortable settling with being acquaintances, a misunderstanding drives him to reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long! ♡ Recipe Ingredients: tooth rotting fluff, featuring yeonjun as soobin's unofficial rival, soobin pining, slight cursing!, not proofread ♡ Recipe Notes: guess whos baccck!? woo its FINALLY out! I'm so sorry for the wait everyone! this is probably the only wip that i was continuously motivated to write for.. so i hope this wasn't too cheesy >< enjoy!

It all started the first day he ever laid eyes on you.

That charming smile that captivated his attention the second he walked through the door, your face lighting up at the sound of the bell chiming at his arrival.

“Welcome to Flowers and Flour! How may I help you?”

It was over for him the moment your warm voice hit his ears, the tenderness and soft notes that brought immense joy to his day whenever he walked in.

Soobin was the son of the town’s local catering service. If he wasn’t busy with school, he was helping his mother organize her clients and help deliver and pick up orders for her on that moped his father got him for Christmas years ago.

You were the daughter of the town’s local bakery and flower shop. It was an odd combination really, a bakery downstairs with a flower shop running in the back? It worked well though, Soobin had more than one reason to visit you. His mom needed extra cupcakes for a wedding? He was always the first one to run to your shop. His mom wanted some flower decorations for an event? Once again, Soobin ran through the double doors of your establishment.

For as long as Soobin could remember, he had the biggest crush on you. It was obvious to everyone else in town, except for you.

Though he never really was good at flirting was he? Soobin’s first delivery was almost a disaster, he was 13 when he started helping his mom with her catering. Luck wasn’t on his side that day as he proceeded to fall off his bike and drop the entire box of dozen glazed donuts he was supposed to bring to a child’s birthday party.

Of course, he was a quick thinker. So the first thing Soobin did was bike his way over to the small bakery and flower shop his mother always worked with, rushing in through the doors as he was covered in cuts and bruises. It didn’t matter, no pain could be worse than the scolding he would get from his mother if she found out.

There you were, freshly, first day on the job and your father had just taught you how to use the cash register. You twiddled your thumbs nervously as he worked relentlessly in the back to finish baking that afternoon's set of cupcakes. 

So when you hear the familiar twinkle of bells ringing you feel the color melt off your face as you look up. This was your first day after all, what was the slogan your parents taught you to say to guests? Were you even supposed to take orders? You were only twelve!

“H- hi!.. Um.. welcome to flour and flower— no! Flowers with flour?...” You furrowed your eyebrows and look at the small napkin filled with your scribbled notes. “A- ah sorry! Um welcome to Flowers.. And Flour! H- how can I help you!?” Your voice shook as you sat straight up, giving your best (and awkwardest) smile.

You weren’t expecting there to be a boy with messy hair and cuts on his knees and a half-empty box of donuts standing in the doorway. The way his hoodie fit him slightly too big, something that he would grow into as he got older and taller. 

Slight sweat formed around his forehead and neck from the summer heat. His denim shorts wore a slight tear on the hem from the fall he had from his small bike. His cute button nose scrunched up as the stinging sensation on his knees reminded him of why he was there in the first place.

And Soobin wasn’t expecting such a pretty girl his age to be working the cash register.

“Uh– yes! Um..” Soobin sheepishly scratches the back of his neck as he looks around the bakery to avoid your large innocent eyes staring at him curiously. He’d never been inside actually, the colors were bright, sweet, and pastel– and most of all welcoming, just like your smile.

You’re tilting your head at the way the boy’s worn-out sneakers shifted in his spot. What were you supposed to do when a customer didn’t answer you?

“C- C-an.. um I..” Soobin’s face is flushed red and your eyebrows furrow together even deeper. Just as you are about to turn and call for your father to come help, Soobin immediately reaches over the counter, dropping the crushed donut box, and covers your mouth.

“Shhh!! D- don’t tell anyone! If an adult finds out they’ll tell my mom! And m- my mom cannot know about this” the young boy rambles. Your large eyes flicker between the door behind you leading to the kitchen and back to Soobin. You nod your head in agreement to say silent.

“S- sorry..” Soobin mumbles as he pulls away, wiping his hands on his baggy shorts. He explains everything to you, from the birthday party to his failure to properly ride a bike. You couldn’t help but feel pity for the boy. It was your first day too after all so you would definitely feel the same way if you were in his shoes.

“I think I can.. Maybe give you some donuts?” 

Now, looking back on this now as an adult, you would have charged the young man, or at least given him a discount. But.. as a young innocent pre-teen.. the thought didn’t cross your mind once.

After all, on your first day working you weren't expecting an odd, clumsy, and cute boy would pop up in the shop. So were you really going to be thinking rationally?

So you gave Soobin a fresh box of donuts right from the shelf. Even offered a muffin for his safe journey.  All for free.

Of course, your father notices the missing pastries, one thing leads to another and both you and Soobin end up getting into a lot of trouble.

What you didn’t know is that later that evening Soobin found himself thinking about the cute girl with pigtails that was almost too short to reach over the counter. Even blushing at the thought of seeing you again and vowing to himself he would marry that sweet girl who looked past his awkward exterior and gave him that gentle sunrise of a smile.

Years later, Soobin’s promise to himself is looking less and less possible by the day.

You looked forward to Soobin’s visits. Although you two weren’t close, you’ve always considered him to be a friend. Throughout the years, you managed to form a small bond with him whenever you had the chance to see him. You both went to different schools and were simply too shy to ever ask to hang out outside of the shop, so your relationship stayed the same.

“Hey y/n.” Soobin gives you a shy smile as you finish setting up the display for the morning. Perfect, just like you were. And with the way you turn to him, hair pulled in a messy ponytail, face flushed from the physical work, and apron wrapped perfectly tight around your waist, you couldn’t have gotten any better in Soobin’s eyes.

“Hi Soobie! Here for those muffins?” You chirp as you lean over the counter to greet him. His heart flutters at the nickname. No matter how many times you’ve said it, you always manage to make his heart stop. Nothing was better than your voice calling out his name, especially the nickname you gave specifically to him.

“Mhm, large company party I think? I’m not too sure. Apparently, the guy’s been really pushing my mom’s buttons with his demands.” His laugh is airy and soft and you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm from the way his dimples dig deep into his cheeks. Of course, the boy fails to notice.

“Ah, I see. Give Mrs. Choi my hellos then.” You giggle, handing Soobin several large boxes. Said boxes were indeed quite heavy, your delicate fingers almost dropping them as you handed them over.

“Sure will. Oh, careful–! Gotcha!” Soobin is quick to place his hands under yours, helping you lift the boxes. You look up at him with eyes wide and mouth agape, heart pumping rapidly from the sudden contact. Soobin mirrors your expression and the two of you stay that way in silence for a few seconds.

The young man blinks and immediately flushes once more, face heating up more when he realizes he was touching your hand for too long. “S- sorry! U- um.. I’ll see you later yeah? Have a good rest of your day y/n!” Soobin fumbles as he quickly shuffles out the door to his moped.

You mentally kick yourself for letting the seconds pass without saying anything and Soobin gently plops his forehead on the handle of his vehicle, debating on just slamming his head on a brick wall for settling with the silence.

It was always like this, constant instances where he would get the perfect chance to confess but he always failed to let his feelings reach you. So after years of failed attempts, he settles with what you have. He’s just happy he gets to see you.

⋆｡°♡

It was Friday, the first day of your town's weekend summer festival. Soobin’s mother was as busy as ever, therefore so was he in trying to help her get things done. 

“Soobin! Can you come here please? I need you to run an errand for me!” Mrs. Choi calls and Soobin comes shuffling in from his room, slightly groggy from the nap he just had.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He mumbles as he rubs his eyes, fluffy hair sticking out in all directions.

“Could you run down to the grocery store or the bakery? It doesn’t matter I just need you to buy me flour.” Mrs. Choi mumbles as she digs into multiple containers. “Mr. Phillips is running some baking event but he’s already at the fairgrounds so I’m doing this as a favor. Could you just bring it to him for me?”

Now, Soobin was content with his position in your life. He was just glad he was able to get to see you any chance he got, and that you were still single. He’s (not-so) casually questioned if you’ve had a boyfriend before, and with a strawberry-red face you mumbled about your failed love life.

Don’t get him wrong– Soobin would always support you as long as you were happy, but something inside him feels a sense of relief knowing that there’s somewhat of a chance for him.

So of course instead of going to the closest grocery store, he’s going to stop by your place all the way across town to pick up some flour.

Soobin speeds down the street as quickly as the law would allow him. His anxious fingers tapped the handle of his moped as he waited for the light to turn green.

The festival was on your side of town, so the streets were busy, therefore causing horrible traffic as a result. Soobin groans as he taps his foot impatiently, here’s to another day where he was the cause of his own downfall!

It takes 15 minutes to reach that familiar street he grew to love. The festival around the area begins to grow more lively and both the bakery and flower shop seem to be flooded with visitors.

Soobin feels himself tensing up as he approaches the glass double doors that lead inside the bakery.

The bell rings as he makes his way inside, but the loud buzz of people’s demands and your poor mother running around the floor delivering orders as you ring up the other customers distracts you from noticing the tall boy. Your father bursts through the door right after Soobin, boxes with vases waiting to be decorated and used for arrangements in his arms. Soobin nods a hello. “Hey there Soobin! Nice seeing you!” He shouts above the noise with a grin. “I’m a little busy right now so I’m afraid I can’t help you with anything! Y/n is right over there if you need something!” He nods towards your direction and rushes past the doors leading to the flower shop. Soobin’s face holds a puzzled smile and he glances towards the checkout counter you were currently standing at.

That’s when he sees the bane of his existence. Soobin’s worst nightmare. Choi Yeonjun.

Soobin didn’t speak to Yeonjun often, but he knew two very important things that were all he needed. That Yeonjun was interested in you, and him and Soobin went to the same school. (Soobin cringes at the possibility of Yeonjun ever going to the same school as you. He’s thankful.) Yeonjun would visit your dad’s flower shop often. Even going as far as hinting multiple times if you’d like to go on a date. Luckily for Soobin, you never got the hint– and unfortunately for Soobin, that just made Yeonjun want to try harder.

What made Soobin tick even more was that Yeonjun flirted with everyone he saw. It was just a part of his charm, and as much as Soobin hates to admit it he wishes he had that same ability Yeonjun had. To speak to you freely and smoothly hint towards a date instead of the casual and mundane conversations he settled for every time he saw you. He wanted to be cool and charming, wanted to be outgoing and good at everything he did, just like that Choi Yeonjun.

But Soobin knew he would never get to that point, he considered himself clumsy, unathletic, nerdy, and awkward. All of the things that Yeonjun wasn’t.

So when Soobin spots Yeonjun cracking yet another flirty joke just to see your cheeks flush and you shyly tucking your hair behind your ear he makes it his personal mission to intervene.

“Look at you slacking off. Should get back to work instead of talkin’ to me so much y/n.” Yeonjun teases you and you roll your eyes with a smile. You weren’t exactly close but he was friendly and often offered to help your dad anytime he needed it.

“Well Yeonjun, I’m trying! You keep distracting me..!” You nudge him as you loudly respond over the customers' chatter. “You’re lucky nobody needs me right now. What did you want anyways?” you inquire with a tilt of your head. Soobin sees this from afar and finds it endearing, and much to his dismay so does Yeonjun.

“Nothing today actually–” “What?!” “I said nothing today! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to check out the festival with me?!” You furrow your eyebrows as your brain attempts to decipher Yeonjun’s words. “Check out what?!” 

Yeonjun lets out a laugh. Soobin bites his lip as his body unconsciously moves closer to the checkout counter. “The festival! You’re about to close soon right? Let's go, you and me!” Yeonjun repeats. This time he’s leaning over the counter, lips dangerously close to your face, and Soobin is about to explode from the sight.

“Well, actually I-” “Y/n! Hi! You’re not busy right?” Soobin blurts out as he shoves himself between Yeonjun and the counter. Yeonjun shoots him a puzzled look.

“Oh! Hi Soobin!” You smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck at witnessing the sudden interjection. “Um.. How can I help you?” Soobin’s adrenaline is bursting through his veins, sure he saved you from Yeonjun’s invitation, but now what?

Suddenly, two other customers walk into the store and the place seems to inconveniently become more lively by the second. Soobin feels his anxiety bubbling in his stomach as he stares at your face, how was he supposed to look at you with your hair softly tousled into a ponytail and your pretty lashes blinking against your cheeks? He wonders what you look like outside of uniform.

“Uh, Soobin? I kinda– Yes sir one moment!” You call out to an older gentleman requesting your attention. Soobin blinks and realizes he’s been standing awkwardly for too long, Yeonjun is currently watching the whole situation unfold with a lifted brow and arms crossed.

“Uh– My mom–!.. I want to tell you that I kind of– The festival–! Um..” Soobin grows more flustered by the second, unable to get anything out. He wants to tell you he needs flour, he wants to tell you he traveled all the way across town just to see you, he wants to tell you to ditch Yeonjun and go to the festival with him instead. But words seem to fail him in the moment.

“Soobin?.. Are you alrigh–”

It finally hits Soobin that if he wants to confess, he needs to do it now. He should have realistically done it sooner but the poor boy genuinely felt like your relationship would never get anywhere past “somewhat friends”. Now that Yeonjun is here though, he feels like if he doesn’t say anything now, he’ll be forever doomed to be second to Choi once again.

“Y/n… I um–  L- like you! I need flour.. Too!”

Soobin’s words sound jumbled but it’s enough to get the point across. At least that’s what he thinks.

“What?! Sorry, I can’t hear you!” You shout over the bakery ambiance.

“Flour! Uh.. Flour! I just um.. I need that! Yes! That thing you sell! Ha…” Soobin wants to curl up and rot in a hole. Both of you miss the way Yeonjun’s lips curl up into a small smirk.

“A Flower?!” Your eyebrows furrow deeper. Why would Soobin need a singular flower? You wonder.

“Ah! What? Uh fl- flour! Y- yes!” Soobin stutters once more and you nod confusingly, turning to the shelf behind you. Soobin’s eyes flicker to Yeonjun, mentally high-fiving himself for stepping in at the perfect time. He feels slightly bad but in his defense, he had eyes on you first!

Before Soobin’s guilt settles in for thinking such selfish thoughts, you hand him a sunflower.

His eyes widen and he looks back at you. Did you end up hearing his confession after all?

“Sorry guys I can’t talk! Soobin I’m sorry but this is all I can offer on such short notice! Yeonjun, I’ll speak with you after my shift is done! Just give me 10 minutes!” You flash an apologetic smile and head over to the small line of customers waiting to pay.

Soobin’s mouth hangs open, did you just reject him? Were you so guilty you couldn’t reject him that you just gave him a gift in hopes he wouldn’t take it too harshly? Is that why you said it was all you could offer?

Soobin stands dumbfounded. Yeonjun sighs and grabs him by the arm, pulling him out of the store to allow the other customers to squeeze in their place.

“Hey–! I- I need to talk to y/n wait!” Soobin yanks his arm away from Yeonjun with a huff.

“Can you chill for a second?! God, seeing you stand there looking like a fish out of water is stressing me out, dude.” Yeonjun sighs and rubs his temples in frustration. Soobin swallows and looks down at the floor, twiddling with the sunflower you gave him between his fingers. “Look. I know what’s going on here man, you’ve got a crush on y/n don’t you?”

Soobin’s jaw drops once again and he feels his face grow impossibly red. “H- how do you know?!”

“You literally said it inside the store just a few seconds ago..not to mention your game is the worst I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Right..” Soobin sighs and drops his shoulders in defeat. “Was it that bad?” Yeonjun grimaces, “Want me to tell you the truth?” Soobin groans, he already knows what’s coming. “Just say it already.”

“That was absolutely horrid to watch. Never seen a guy fumble that badly..” Yeonjun pinches the bridge of his nose and Soobin plops down on the bench next to them. He rests his head in his hands, maybe now would be a good time to just move cities. Forget today ever happened. Forget about the festival. Forget about you. Not to mention he’s even more embarrassed at the fact that Yeonjun was there to witness it all. The last person he wanted to see.

“Hey, hey. Look, there’s a bright side to this and I don’t think you realize– I don’t even think y/n realizes what just happened in there.”

Soobin’s head perks up, his face scrunched up in confusion. “What? Besides the fact that I just got horribly rejected– Oh God AND she doesn’t even give me the flour I needed! Y/n probably thought it would be awkward to keep talking to me and just sent me off with this.. pity gift!” Soobin exclaims as he waves the sunflower in his hand around.

Yeonjun slams his palm into his forehead and sighs, “No! Dude she misheard you completely, I’m almost certain y/n thought you wanted a flower from her, not flour.” It takes a few seconds for Soobin to properly register Yeonjun’s words. He replays the situation in his head, the way that none of you could possibly hear each other that well given how busy the bakery was in that moment. 

It would make sense. Yeonjun was standing right next to Soobin so he was the only one that would be able to properly hear him.

“Oh.. shit..” Soobin slumps further into the bench. “Really?”

“Yeah, and frankly can I be honest?” Soobin nods. “I didn’t know you even liked y/n like that. You seem to sort of keep things plain with her when you guys talk.” Soobin pouts at the comment. “Well, I try!.. was kind of playing the long game… I don’t really have the type of charisma you have Mr. Festival Guy!” Soobin retorts and Yeonjun gasps dramatically.

“Hey! Don’t blame me for your incompetence man... Plus, even if I do sort of like her, I know when to back out if it’s just going to end up as a competition. I’m not a douchebag.”

Yeonjun chuckles at Soobin’s shocked face. He notes that Soobin seems to be very expressive despite not speaking about his emotions. It seems to explain a lot about Soobin. “Wait, seriously? You’re willing to give her up that easily?” 

Yeonjun shrugs, “I mean don’t get me wrong she’s a cute girl, but I just wanted to get to know her more as a friend, what’s the harm in that?” Soobin bites his lower lip and looks away from Yeonjun. He feels awful now, assuming Yeonjun was the player type and you were just his next target. They never spoke at school but that was simply because while Soobin was shy and hung out with the nerdy and introverted students– Yeonjun was popular, and had many friends. Not to mention plenty of girls fought for his attention at school.

“Yeah.. guess you’re right.” Soobin mumbles. “Well… now what do I do?” Yeonjun taps his index finger on his chin. “I mean, she said she gets off work in a few minutes right? Why don’t you tell her what you really meant to say.”

Soobin scoffs as if Yeonjun’s idea is completely unrealistic and ridiculous. “Yeah right. You saw the way I get when I speak to her. I can’t even think properly..” Yeonjun sighs. “Well, you have to do it sometime dude.. Unless you want someone like me to scoop her up.” He teases.

Soobin’s eye twitches, he was definitely not going to give Yeonjun another chance to ask you out.

“Hey– okay, okay, fine I’ll talk to her.. I guess..” Soobin runs a hand through his hair. He honestly felt like the entire situation was a lost cause. “So just how am I going to confess to y/n?”

“Dude, I can’t help you with everything! Just speak from your heart.. Or whatever those cheesy romance movies say.” Yeonjun pats Soobin’s shoulder and stands up. “Look, you’ll figure something out. Tell her what comes to mind, that’s the way I roll at least.” Soobin stares at his feet in thought. He had so much to say, and quite frankly his feelings were so strong and complicated he was scared it would ruin the relationship you both currently had. 

“All I’m gonna say is if you don’t do it tonight, I will. Get in there and grab what you originally came there for.” Yeonjun nods towards the sunflower resting in Soobin’s hand. ”And I’m not just talking about the flour either. Be yourself.” Soobin looks at Yeonjun for the last time and stands up.

“Right. I’ll uh.. See you then. Thanks.” Yeonjun pats his shoulder and Soobin almost winces at the pain. “No problem Choi. I’ll leave you to it. See you around.” Yeonjun winks and strolls off. Soobin cringes at how nonchalant the other male is, more so at the fact that he genuinely couldn’t tell if that wink was flirtatious or not.

Regardless, Yeonjun’s words were enough to boost his confidence slightly, and thus Soobin made his way back to the outside of the bakery.

20 minutes had passed and you finally were able to usher the last customer out of the store. Your father had already left to promote business at the festival grounds and your mother had offered to finish cleaning up so you could enjoy some time to yourself after a long day of work.

The summer heat hits your face as you open the heavy double glass doors, pouting as the fresh indoor air slips away. You let your hair down so you can arrange it into a neater ponytail, feeling at least feeling somewhat refreshed after quickly changing out of your work uniform into something more comfortable.

Soobin hears the familiar jingle of the bakery doors and he looks up, if he wasn’t nervous already he definitely was now. His face flushes as his eyes scan your figure, pretty face concentrated as you tie your hair up, thin summer shirt slightly lifting to show the slightest bit of skin as if you wearing those small denim shorts wasn’t enough to have him practically fainting at the sight.

You look up and the expression on your face changes to a warm smile upon seeing Soobin. 

“Soobie, hi!” Oh! The nickname too! Soobin was doomed.

“H- hey, um y/n.. Before you lock up can we go inside? I need to speak with you..” You tilt your head and look around the area. “Sure? Oh but I think Yeonjun was waiting to talk to me too? Did you see him?” Soobin almost lets out a groan in discontent but hides it with a bite to his bottom lip. Why were you asking about Yeonjun? Was it because you were hoping he’d be waiting instead of Soobin?

“He uh.. Decided he had something to do–  It wasn’t important anyways..” Soobin scratches the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Ah, okay! Let’s go in then.” You smile and open the doors for him. Soobin fumbles to one of the glass doors and holds it for you with ears tinged pink, nodding as you thank him when you walk inside.

Soobin doesn’t even remember ever being this nervous before in his entire life, his first catering delivery, the handful of speeches he’s stuttered through when speaking in front of his classmates, or when he spilled juice on his mother’s most prestigious customer.

You prop yourself on the counter, your eyes now able to meet his without either of you adjusting your height. You swing your legs as you sit, oblivious to Soobin’s inner turmoil. “Sorry, I wasn’t about to talk with you outside in that heat. You must have been sweating so much out there!” You apologize with a light laugh, and the tall boy's heart soars, touched by your consistently kind and caring nature.

Soobin’s brain is currently in overdrive thinking about the way your delicate fingers twiddle in your lap waiting for his response. You notice that his breathing has grown quiet and slow, as he avoids your gaze while in deep thought.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen to Yeonjun or–?” You innocently question. Soobin can’t help but feel his jealousy peak. Why were asking about that guy when it was just you and him? Why couldn’t you ever focus on him instead?

“Soobie.. Tell me what happened, please?” You bring your hand up to rest on his arm, shooting jolts of electricity throughout his entire body from the small touch. It was light, but it was also the first time you’ve ever made an effort to touch Soobin in such a delicate manner. It may have meant nothing to you but to him, it was more than enough to send his mind reeling even further.

Soobin was a patient man. In case you couldn’t tell from the way he’s waited all these years for the perfect moment to confess. Yet, at this moment he feels his emotions bubbling up, his jealousy of Yeonjun, his overwhelming affection towards you that never ceased to stop growing over the years, and the overwhelming anxiety threatening to burst through his stomach.

Your eyes widen as Soobin places both of his arms on the counter, caging you in with his own body.

‘Be yourself Soobin. If she doesn’t like you for you then she’s not the one. If she likes Yeonjun then so be it.’ Soobin is chanting so many affirmations in his head and nothing seems to work. Seconds pass and he notices the heat spread across your face as you stare into his gentle brown orbs.

The bakery is silent, its ambiance a complete contrast to almost 30 minutes ago. Everything had been turned off, with the only source of lightning coming from the sunset peering over the horizon outside. The rays barely peeked through the partially closed blinds and the glass doors leading into the bakery. 

“I- .. look I honestly h- have no idea how to go about this..” Soobin begins, his breathing now ragged and his body so close to yours that his scent begins to fill your senses. You’ve never been this close to Soobin and can’t help but take in the gentle light floral scent. It’s warm even, like a cotton shirt left out in the sun on a summer afternoon.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath now gently tickling your features. “Y/n.. I’ve liked you f- for a really long time.. And I mean this more than a friend.” His eyes are screwed shut, almost as if he was afraid that if he opened them he’d be met with a look of disappointment from you. “I tried telling you earlier, I saw Yeonjun try to hit on you and I freaked out. Of course, shit hits the fan too because with my luck you didn’t hear me.”

“Soobin..” Your mouth opens before you can fully process what you want to say. “Y- you don’t have to respond y/n. If anything I know you probably have feelings for Yeonjun already– Just p- please.. I-” His voice is shaky, his intense fear of rejection pouring out of his body in a sweat.

Soobin’s eyes flash open when he feels both your hands gently holding both sides of his face. “Can I tell you something?” You smile warmly. Soobin’s heart feels like it's going to jump out of his chest. “I only keep working here so I can see you.”

Soobin’s face turns a bright red, his mouth agape. “Wh- what?”

“My parents tease me about it all the time. About the boy that I fell head over heels for since the day he first walked through those stupid glass doors. I don’t let them hire anyone else because I didn’t want anyone talking to you that wasn’t me!” You chuckle, recalling the slow days when you paced across the white bakery tiles, waiting for him to walk through those doors with a list of items he needed.

“I’ve liked you. I always have.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. Soobin’s ears barely pick up the sound as a group of children run by the shop, loud screeches and giggles as they pass.

“Wh- what?” Soobin stares into your eyes in complete disbelief. “I said I like you too, Choi Soobin.”

He’s silent, a car passes by and you almost jump from the sudden noise. Soobin doesn’t flinch, and for a moment your expression turns into one of fear– afraid that you said the wrong thing until Soobin lets out a series of soft chuckles.

“What is so funny!?” You pout, immediately removing your hands from his face in embarrassment. The audacity of this guy! To just laugh in front of your face after he himself nearly pissed himself from confessing to you.

“Y- you have no idea– no idea!” He begins, his forehead bumping into yours again from laughing. “Y/n, I’ve been going out of my way, doing the stupidest things just to get myself to tell you how I feel.”

You scoff and look down at your lap. “Well.. at least now everything is cleared up.. Right?”

Soobin’s head pulls away, his arms still trapping you in his presence. ‘O-oh um about that..” 

“Earlier.. I was asking you for flour.. Y’know the stuff you bake with? .. You sort of misheard that too.” You cover your mouth with a gap. Soobin senses your guilt and immediately shakes his head.

Soobin finally pulls his arms away and you feel your tense body loosen up. It seems he had no clue of how close he was due to the adrenaline of his confession. “No no! Please don’t worry about it– it was seriously my fault, I couldn’t even get a word out and it was super loud and busy earlier!”

“L- let me get that for you! Gosh, I’m so so sorry!” You exclaim as you jump off the counter to run to the back room to retrieve the said bag. You find Soobin with his hands covering his face in embarrassment as you walk up to him. It seemed you two were more similar than you expected.

“Let's go deliver the flour then, together.” You smile shyly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Before we do though.. Let's make a trade.” You take the forgotten sunflower Soobin had been holding the entire time and hold it to your chest. “You can give me this, and I’ll give you your flour.”

Your voice is warm and oh-so-sweet to Soobin’s ears. He was so used to hearing you speak in your ‘customer service’ voice that being able to have you finally speak to him, and only him, in that gentle tone that made his legs turn to jelly and his heart thump ever so harder.

“Deal.” Soobin smiles and he takes the sunflower from your hand. He gently places the sunflower behind your ear, pushing back a strand of your hair at the same time and your eyes meet once again. His eyes were mesmerizing, almost as if they were pulling you closer. You didn’t even realize how close in proximity you two were now.

Soobin closes the gap between you both, your lips finally connecting for the first time. Your plush lips are soft against his and it’s everything Soobin could have imagined and more. The kiss isn’t perfect– with teeth slightly clashing every few seconds and you giggling in excitement. Both your lips were slightly chapped from the summer heat and the conversation you just had. It didn’t matter to either of you though.

It was summer when Soobin met you for the time, with cheeks flushed and shy lingering gazes. He smiles, dimples on full display at the thought as he stares up into the sinking sun in the distance as you both head towards the festival. 

It’s also summer when the two of you confess and share your first kiss. Soobin comes to realize that summer might just be his favorite season. After all, over the years nothing has ever changed, besides the feelings he’s had all this time now growing ever stronger. And of course, breaking the curse of forever being just the clumsy boy who visited you.

[newtthetranswriter]

Could I request kuroo(haikyuu) x male reader where the reader is in the chess club and Kuroo is hopelessly in love with him and starts learning chess to have something in common with the reader who is awkward and standoffish but with every game karoo challenges him to they fall more and more in love

Love is a Chess Game

Word count: 2762

Paring: Tetsuro Kuroo x male! Reader

Summary: Kuroo has always been fascinated by Y/n, after learning that he was in the chess club, Kuroo sets out to try and learn more about his closed off crush.

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting. I’m sorry it took so long to get this out but I promise I made it the best I could. I hope you enjoy and have a happy pride month. And as alway remember to hydrate or diedrate. 

    It wasn’t common for Kuroo to be late for practice, he is the captain after all. But this time he had a question for his teacher about an assignment and so he didn’t leave when the bell rang. Having never been in the main building of the school after school was out, he never paid much attention to what other clubs meet after school and where. So imagine his surprise when he spots the guy he’s been crushing on, walking to one of the empty classrooms. 

    Curious as to what Y/n could be doing, Kuroo decided that since he was already late for practice, what's a couple extra minutes. So he, too, approached the classroom. Getting closer to the door he heard the unmistakable sounds of people talking and realized the room wasn’t actually empty. Without being seen, or so he thought, he poked his head through the small opening, observing what was happening. Quickly Kuroo realized that it was a meeting for the school's Chess club. 

    After his eyes took in the numerous chess boards set up, they were drawn to the person who unknowingly lured the Middle blocker to the room. There Y/n stood talking with one of his clubmates. Kuroo couldn’t help but stare at the unsuspecting boy, completely in awe. This was the first time Kuroo had seen Y/n talking openly with anyone, he normally sits away from people looking like he couldn’t care less about those around him. But here he was chatting and laughing like it was completely normal.

   Kuroo probably would have stood there for hours watching his crush, but sadly an obnoxious ringing came from his pocket. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, jumping away from the door hoping not to get caught. “What’s up?” He asked the person on the other end, not bothering to see who is calling him.

   “Where are you? Practice was supposed to start twenty minutes ago.” Surprisingly it was Kenma. 

   Checking the time he let out a sigh. “Shit sorry, got held up asking a teacher a few questions and lost track of time. I'll be there shortly.” He answered quickly. As he hung up the phone he didn’t fail to notice the grumbles in the background from presumably Yaku. Putting his phone back in his pocket he made up his mind. First he was going to go to practice so as to not incur the wrath of either Kenma or Yaku as he did not want to deal with either parties bitching. Second, he was going to spend as much of his free time as possible learning to play chess.

   After about two weeks of spending any moment not at school or practice, learning how to play chess, Kuroo decided it was time to put his new knowledge to the test. So he approached Y/n on their lunch break. 

   “Hey, Y//n I wanted to ask if you would be willing to play a game of chess with me?” He asked the quiet boy.

   Not even looking up from his food Y/n responded. “Why?” It was a simple one word response, but the tone of voice said he would rather do anything else.

   Kuroo was not expecting that, but being the quick thinker he is, recovered from his shock before speaking again. “I noticed you enjoy chess, and thought maybe you would like to play against a new opponent. Playing the same people over and over probably gets boring.” He hoped his explanation made sense, and didn’t make him sound like a fool. “And to make it more interesting we can make a bet out of it. Winner can ask the loser one question and the loser has to answer honestly.” Thinking one the spot, Kuroo silently wished that the friendly wager would entice Y/n into agreeing.

   After a moment of silence Y/n nodded. “Fine I’ll play, but not right now come by the Chess club after school we’ll do this.” With that he turned back to his food ignoring the massive grin that spread across Kuroo’s face.

  Walking back to his seat, Kuroo quickly texted the team’s group chat saying something came up and so he would likely be late to practice so they should just start without him. Of course he was met with a series of questions ranging from Lev asking innocently why, to Kenma telling him a date isn’t a reason to be late for practice if he can’t miss practice for a new video game. Kenma’s message was then met with even more confused questions. Deciding that he was done with the idiot squad Kuroo turned his phone off and tried to calm his excitement, wanting to focus on school and not over think his plans for the afternoon.

   After the bell rang, Kuroo made his way to the room where the Chess club met, barely hiding his excitement. When he entered the room he was greeted by the stares of confused chess players, wondering why the boys volleyball captain was in the chess room. Noticing Y/n wasn’t there yet, He stood by the door awkwardly hoping he wouldn’t have to wait long.

   His prayers were answered because not even two minutes later, Y/n entered the room. At first he didn’t notice the athlete, but as he approached his clubmates he noticed them taking glances at the door like something was wrong. Looking at the door, couldn’t hide his shock as he made eye contact with the tall Middle blocker awkwardly standing by the door.

   Once Kuroo realized Y/n had showed up, he made his way over. “So Y//n you ready for our game?” He asked as he took a seat across the stoic chess player.

   Receiving confused questions from the other’s in the room as to why he was playing a round of chess with someone on the volleyball team, Y/n sighed. “Yes Kuroo, let me just set the board up. As for you, peanut gallery, he asked to play so I decided to indulge his request.” The player explained as he began placing chess pieces on the board in front of him.

   After the board was set, the match began. Even with Y/n being a gentleman and letting Kuroo take the first move, it only took him 37 moves to beat the middle blocker. It didn’t really surprise anyone in the room, after all Y/n was one of the best players in the club.

   Accepting his loss Kuroo, reminded Y/n of their wager. “So, what’s your question you want answered?” Kuroo asked, believing it would probably be something that would likely embarrass him like ‘what is the dumbest thing he’s ever done?’. But he was left, shocked by the response he got.

   “The only thing I want to know is why did you decide to learn how to play chess?” Y/n wasn't trying to be mean or make fun of Kuroo, he honestly wanted to know.

   Getting over his shock, Kuroo thought for a moment. He could A) tell the truth that he did it to get to know Y/n or B) lie and say he just thought it looked interesting. Deciding that if he wanted this to all turn out well, he would have to be honest so he went for. “Honestly, I wanted to get to know you and when I saw that you were part of the chess club I figured it was a good opportunity to start.” He was just being honest, but for some reason the confidence he had while speaking amazed Y/n.

   Taking a moment to fully understand why Kuroo made the choice, Y/n decided to play along with Kuroo’s idea. “Well, if you want to get to know me you’ll have to beat me in a game so you can ask me a question.” This took everyone in the room by surprise. The awkward and standoffish Y/n was actually offering to let someone get to know him. “So Kuroo, if you are up for it, next week we will have a rematch.”

   Kuroo thought for a second before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it sounds like a plan.” After finishing his sentence, he felt his phone vibrate. Checking it, seeing a text from Yaku saying he was needed in the gym, Kuroo started to stand. “Well, it seems my own club is in need of their amazing captain so, I will see you around Y/n. And I will definitely be back next week for our rematch and I’m going to win.” finishing his sentence Kuroo closed the door to the room. Deciding to be slow about reaching the gym, for the soul purpose of quieting his giddy thoughts about getting to know Y/n more. 

The day before the rematch

   Kuroo had tried to tell the rest of the team that he would once again be late to practice,       without telling them why but a certain cat eyed setter decided to have some fun. “He’s going to play chess with his boyfriend.” Kenma announced to the group who was currently cleaning up the gym after practice.

   “He is not my boyfriend.” Kuroo said, trying to keep calm and not strangle the boy with two-toned hair.

   Yaku, not having a full understanding of what was happening, decided now was a great time to interrogate his friend. “So, the reason you showed up late to practice was to randomly play chess with some random guy? Am I understanding that correctly?” He asked, moving to stand next to Kenma.

   Before Kuroo could respond, Kenma responded more than happy to give his teammates ways to make fun of his best friend. “No, not some random guy. It was Y/n, he’s been in Kuroo’s class since middle school and he just now got the balls to talk to him.” While Kuroo wanted to argue and say Kenma had it wrong, he knew Kenma was telling the truth. After all he told Kenma all about his plan to learn to play chess and once he beats y/n in a game he’ll ask him out.

   “Anyway, I’m just letting you guys know so you don’t blow up my phone after two minutes of me not being here on time.” Kuroo said finishing up the last bit of cleaning that needed to be done for the night. He received a chorus of ‘yeah whatever’s and they all dropped the subject. Once they were sure the gym was clean they all headed home for the night.

   The next day like he promised Kuroo showed up at the Chess club ready for his rematch with Y/n. This time he waited outside not wanting to deal with the awkward stares of the other club members. After only a couple minutes he spotted y/n approaching the room.

   “Hello, Y/n how are you today?” He asked, hoping to start a conversation outside of their game.

   Y/n gave him a slight smile before covering it with his normal unreadable face. “I’m fine, but if you want to know more you have to beat me first.” He said, not missing the flash of shock across Kuroo’s face at how he was clearly making jokes at him. Y/n, then opened the door and usher Kuroo into the room. Taking a seat at the same table as last time Y/n began setting up for their game.

   Just like the week before Kuroo was unable to beat Y/n. “Since I stand victorious once again, it’s time for you to answer a question. Why do you want to get to know me? We’ve never really talked before so why now?” Y/n asked, not expecting much of an answer but figured he’d give it a try.

   Kuroo was startled by the question, but decided once again that if he wants to pursue anything with Y/n, he would have to be honest from the start. “I’ve admired you for a while. You always managed to get good grades since middle school and you never seem to let people get to you. I just wanted to know more about what makes you who you are.”

   It was now Y/n’s turn to be stunned. “Well that certainly wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Anyway, don't you have captain duties to get to, at your own club?” He asked the messy haired athlete. 

   Sighing, Kuroo stood up. Before leaving he turned to Y/n one last time for the day. “Same time next week, and this time I’ll be the one asking the question.” 

    Y/n had to quickly hide the stunned look on his face before nodding. Sure he had realized that Kuroo wasn’t the kind of guy to give up, but he wasn’t quite expecting such confidence from him. After Kuroo left, the Chess club went about business as usual. Well except their star player was getting lost in thought every time he wasn’t participating in a game.

Time skip to a month later

    After four more games Kuroo still hadn’t managed to beat Y/n in a single game of chess. But on the brightside the two had started interacting with each other outside of their now weekly chess matches. It wasn’t much but Y/n was letting Kuroo get to know him more without the caveat of winning a chess game. Knowing more about Y/n made Kuroo even more happy with his choice to learn chess.

    When it came time for their seventh game, it came to no one's surprise that Kuroo had shown up to the Chess club and set up the usual spot before Y/n even arrived. What did surprise everyone was the fact that Kuroo managed to get the upper hand. After a long back and forth Kuroo actually managed to beat Y/n for the first time. At first members of the chess club figured it had to be fluke and Y/n just made a mistake. But after going over the game in their heads, they quickly realized that Kuroo actually managed to outsmart the chess player.

   After over coming the shock of actually losing to Kuroo, Y/n raised his head looking to his opponent. “So Kurro, It seems it’s your turn to ask me a question.” Y/n prompted, expecting a question similar to ones he had asked in the past like ‘why play chess’ or ‘why did he agree to play chess against him?’ something like that. 

   There was just one thing Y/n seemed to forget he wasn’t playing chess against another chess player, he was playing against the captain of the Nekoma Volleyball team. This was a cunning and confident cat, Kuroo had been planning for this for weeks now. “Will you let me take you on a date?” It was straight to the point but Kuroo wanted to make it clear that he wanted to take Y/n on a date, not just them going and hanging out, but an actual date.’

   Everyone who was present in the room at that moment, froze. No one expected that to be the question Kuroo asked. After about a minute of silence though Kuroo’s confidence started to fade. As he was about to speak up and say it’s fine and that they can all just forget it happened, Y/n finally spoke. “I would love to go on a date with you Kuroo.” 

   It was Kuroo’s turn to freeze, of course this was the outcome he hoped for, but to actually hear it, his brain stopped working. Shaking the surprise from his mind, he couldn’t help but smile as he responded. “Great, I’ll text you the details and don’t worry about paying for anything. I asked you out so the first date is on me.” Y/n just chuckled and nodded in response. “Well, I guess I have to get to practice. Thank you for the game, and thank you for agreeing to go out with me.” Kuroo had to fight the urge to jump in excitement as he left the room. 

   Y/n on the other hand, now had to deal with the wave of questions his clubmates were now throwing at him. He wasn’t expecting that agreeing to a chess game with Volleyball player would lead to him going on a date with said volleyball player. But even if it was not the expected outcome, he was truly looking forward to it having grown to enjoy and look forward to spending time with the middle blocker.

[abybweisse]

Ch208, Spoilers part 2

One day, some visitors come, and they look like they are from a circus. I don't know the circumstances in which they get to take him away. Do they break him out? Does his "owner" sell him off? Does something happen to the owner of the freak show?

Whatever the case, Joker asks him what's his name, and apparently Snake didn't really have one (that he could recall?), so Joker simply names him "Snake". Meanwhile, I see someone (Dagger, I think) bringing children into the back of a wagon; are they being collected for Kelvin?!?

Doll puts out a hand and offers for Snake to leave with them. He accepts the offer and goes with them to Noah's Ark Circus.

There, Doll seems to ask "チキンと汁一クどつち食う？", which google translates as "Would you rather eat chicken or a cup of soup?" Snake doesn't give an answer, so Doll says "黙ってちやわかんねーだろ?", like "You can't just keep quiet, right?" Then Jumbo walks over. I haven't had time yet to translate what he says, but Snake still isn't talking.

Emily tells Snake "...チキン" (chicken), and finally Snake says "あとメスりて言ってる" (I'm saying it's a female) or "あとメス りて言ってる" (Also, it says female). I'm not sure if Jumbo and Doll are excited about that snake being a girl, Snake speaking with snakes, or simply the fact that Snake has finally said something.

Then Jumbo says something like "これはしデイに失礼をお名前を伺っても?" (Please excuse me if I ask your name?). Either that or more like "My apologies to this day. May I ask your name?"

The bubble with "そうですね... エミリー なんてどうでしよう" means something like "I agree... Emily, what should I do?" Followed by "嵐が丘 の考者　エリス・ベルの本名です" (This is the real name of Ellis Bell, the thinker [author] of Wuthering Heights).

Snake considers the name "Emily" for this snake, and then another snake gets in the way and Snake says "俺にも名前を付けてくれ つて言つてる" (Give me a name, too, it's saying).

Looks like the other snakes all want Jumbo to name them.

Then Dagger and Doll work on an outfit for him, and they are later shown enjoying meals together.

But time passes, and then one day our earl and Sebastian show up....

I'll try to get more translations done soon.

EDIT: Corrections:

Doll offers chicken or pork (not chicken or soup)

Snake says something more like "chicken... says the female one"

Jumbo calls the female snake "lady" when he apologizes

[cowboydisaster]

Aesthete

Aesthete (adj.) someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

repost, originally posted on 12 march 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k

summary: when Arthur finds himself with a lack of inspiration, you offer yourself as a blank canvas

a/n: this was inspired by a post I saw about canon Arthur v fandom Arthur. Essentially that he isn't just some dumb himbo, he's intelligent and creative/artistic and has a clearer world view than most. I cant find the original post/er, but if you know it please drop me a message!

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @luvliewriting @tillith @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

warning: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (teeth rottingly fluffy, emotional smut)

"a work of art that did not begin in emotion is not art"- paul cèzanne

The rain is a steady, soothing thud on the roof, as you rest, sitting on Arthur’s bed at Shady Belle. It's a stormy day, with rain and lightning falling from the sky, painting everything in a gloomy gray hue. There are a few little puddles on the creaky, wooden floor from the broken window and the old roof, where water has leaked inside. You cherish days like this, days where you can huddle inside, wrapped in a thin blanket while reading a book. Now you are reading a relatively newer piece, Huckleberry Finn, while cozied up in Arthur’s bed. He sits opposite of you, against the footboard, while you are against the headboard. It’s a very comfortable silence, with only the rain and the thunder to break up the quiet afternoon. 

Arthur is very focused in his journal, sketching and scribbling away at something on the ivory pages. His eyebrows are drawn together, and every few minutes he holds the journal at an arm’s length away, ensuring he has the correct perspective. The more he draws, the less interested you find yourself in your novel. Your eyes flicker from him, to your page, and you find that you’ve been so interested in what Arthur is doing that you’ve been stuck re-reading the same paragraph for nearly five minutes. 

But can you blame yourself for being so easily distracted? Arthur is so detail oriented, so intelligent and creative. Very rarely does he allow people to see this vulnerable side of him, and you’ve been lucky enough to peek through the curtains into Arthur Morgan’s fragile, beautiful heart. He has a reputation among the gang of being thick headed and more of a brute than a thinker, and you chuckle at just how ignorant those opinions are. Arthur is one of the smartest men you know. He is an enjoyer of literature, although he prefers writing a novel rather than reading one, he is well versed in history and enjoys mythology. Arthur may not have gone to a school, or have fancy degrees on his wall, but he is a reteller of stories. Arthur soaks in the information he hears, and thinks over it heavily, oftentimes writing about it in his journal, like he is now.

His big hands have an expert grip on the charcoal as he sketches something, his face is contorted into a beautiful little confused pout as he tries to ascertain whether or not the perspective on this particular sketch is perfect. Your eyes trail from his hands up to his lips, the forbidden, soft lips that you dream about kissing at night. Oh, how you wish he was yours. You sigh, refocusing yourself and watching his hands. The curiosity becomes too great, and needing a distraction, you finally speak up.

“What are you drawin’?” You ask, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse. He perks up at your voice, startled out of his deep focus. Before he responds, he runs his hand through his stubble in thought. 

“Finishin’ up a sketch from a few days ago. Just this old church I found, ain’t nothin special.” Arthur responds, flipping the little book around to show you. 

You recognize the church, he’s drawn a very good likeness. It’s the old, crumbling church just off the road from Shady Belle. The Lemoyne Raiders have been camping out there, and you recall Arthur stopping to inspect it when you’d rode past earlier. He’s perfectly captured the broken walls, and the way vines squeeze the old building like a cobra. You could step into the drawing, and never realize it wasn’t reality. 

“Oh, Arthur, it's beautiful.” You whisper, noticing the attention to detail. Arthur has managed to capture the swaying of the grass, alongside birds taking flight off the roof of the building. 

After some more inspecting of the intricate piece, you hand it back to him, smiling at the blush that colors his cheeks. He never was good at taking compliments. He continues the sketch, and you realize it's the first time you've seen him drawing in a while. Your eyebrows pull together as you try to think back to the last time you'd seen the outlaw with the book in his hands. 

"I noticed you haven't been drawin' as much…?" You inquire, picking Huckleberry back up and glancing over the printed words before looking back up to him.

"Ain't easy findin' pretty things' in the swamp. Back when we was in Valentine, there was so much to draw, so many things caught my eye." Arthur whispers, never bringing his eyes away from the paper as he shades the windows with his charcoal. You toy with your lip, feeling that it's your time to finally bite the bullet and be brave. You take a deep breath, setting your book down again. 

"So you draw beautiful things?" You ask, barely over a whisper. Your voice travels across the expanse of the bed like a breath on the wind. 

Arthur finally looks up to you, green eyes locking onto yours as he thinks over the meaning behind your question. He leans back against the footboard, and brings his knee up to lean on. 

"I- well yeah, mostly. I like to draw things how I find em, natural, beautiful and the like." Arthur responds, brushing through his beard with his hand while thinking of sketches of deer, flowers and birds, crumbled buildings and landscapes. 

Arthur's heart stops when you stand up, slowly tip-toeing to the center of the room and turning to him. Your eyes are locked onto each other, nothing can be heard but quiet breaths and the patter of rain on the ceiling. Warm light caresses your face as you bring your hands up to your shirt, heart pounding. 

"And… Do you think I'm beautiful…?" You ask, pulling your shirt out of your jeans so it's no longer tucked.

Arthur is frozen, shocked as his eyes glance between your own, laced with bravery and lust, and your hands which are slowly pulling your shirt out of your jeans. He swallows thickly, at a loss for words. 

"Well a course- I think you're, you're very beautiful…" 

Arthur's eyes are wide, his jaw open with shock, and cheeks pink as you unbutton your shirt. His face lasts only a moment before he schools himself, evening out his features to appear nonchalant.

"What are you uh…" Arthur clears his throat quietly, "What are you doin'?" Arthur asks, slipping his eyes closed and growling as your shirt hits the floor.

"Let me inspire you… in my natural state." You quote Arthur back to himself, unclasping your belt buckle and pulling the leather through the loops until the belt clunks to the floor. Your motions are slow, graceful, in the candlelight as you slowly hook your thumbs under your jeans and undergarments sliding them to the floor. Your jeans hit the floor with a thud, and as you step out of them, Arthur pulls out his journal. 

Your body is beautiful. Perfect in his eyes. Round and curved, full and feminine. Your legs, your hips, your collarbones and breasts, all he can do is sink in this canvas that is your body for a few moments. His lack of inspiration is completely gone, and Arthur thinks that with an infinite amount of blank paper he could reference your body as art forever. He's never seen anything so beautiful, so enchanting. You seem to beam with a golden light, shadowing the v in between your thighs and the valley between your breasts. All he can do is stare, and all he can think about doing is taking the time to study every inch of your beauty.

"I…" Arthur stops, speechless as you pull an old ottoman from the corner of the room.

"How do you want me?" You whisper, glossy lips shining in the candlelight, and all Arthur can think about is kissing the perfect rosy petals. 

"How do I- I want you?" Arthur asks, not understanding your question because he wants you in so many ways right now. You're nothing short of a goddess standing before him, an angel. 

"Yeah," You chuckle, "pose me. However you think, you're the artist after all. Go on, it's okay." You encourage when Arthur is hesitant to touch you. He doesn't want to overstep a boundary, and he's terrified to touch you, to taint you with his hands that have been the cause for so many terrible things. He truly thinks that you deserve so much better than him, but he is a fool for it. Because he is all that you want. 

With a nod, he comes over and helps you position yourself. He’s incredibly polite, of course he is, not wanting to touch you anywhere indecent even though you’ve just stripped in front of him. Your left leg is bent under you, and you sit under it, while your right is propped up at an angle, brought up almost to your chest. He positions your arm over the bottoms of your breasts, and your hand is placed on your shoulder. Once he steps back, checking that the position is to his liking, his fire hot touch leaves your skin. 

“Good?” You ask, stretching your neck back so that your hair falls down your back, exposing your throat. 

“Absolutely perfect…” Arthur whispers, sitting on the edge of the plush bed, just a few feet in front of you. He picks up his leather journal and the charcoal, turning to an empty page in the back of the book. 

The sound of thunder, rain and charcoal against paper fill your head as your eyelids flutter, watching Arthur. Seeing him like this, so focused and in his element, is both heartwarming and incredibly attractive. He bites at his bottom lip, hyper focused, as he follows the slopes and planes of your body, perfectly transferring them onto the paper. He gets to your breasts, watching the goosebumps that trickle down your stomach and arms. His eyes are hot on you, studying you. You blush when he steps forward, gently brushing a stray hair away that had fallen in front of your shoulder, tucking it behind your ear so as to not obstruct the view of his model. 

When he sits back down on the creaking bed, he crosses his ankle over his knee, leaning back to get another perspective before resting his journal on his calf. He resumes his sketching, and his eyes linger on you before every stroke of the charcoal. Arthur watches the charcoal trace the lines of your hips, your thighs and your breasts onto the paper, and more than anything, he wishes that it was his lips tracing your skin, instead of the charcoal. The sound of the rain is soothing, and the thunder is one and the same as the pounding of your heart when Arthur’s eyes linger on your lips, your body. Heat lightning flashes the sky through the broken window with warm tones of orange as a shiver runs down your spine, though you are far from cold. 

Arthur really focuses now, leaning into his journal, glancing up and down frequently to capture the tiny details of you, some of his favorites. Like the little flyaways of hair, slightly frizzy from the heat that falls around your face, the freckles on your skin, the scars and stretch marks, the imperfections that color you. Once he’s finished, he leans back, eyeing both you and the journal before writing your name at the bottom, all capital as if a title. 

“Alright, should be done.” Arthur whispers, leaning forward to hand you off his journal.

You take the heavily used book, and look at the mirror-like reflection on the pages. Arthur has captured you perfectly. You look up to his green eyes, with tears. He’s drawn you in his journal as if you are the most gorgeous of any of the sights his eyes have seen, because you are. Every detail is perfect.

“Arthur, this is incredible.” You praise, completely truthful. He is a wonderful artist, and doesn’t give himself enough credit. You stand up, and fold his journal carefully closed before sitting down on the bed beside him. Your hand meets his knee, and boldly you look up at him just hoping. You’ve been head over heels for the man for some time now, and if there was ever a time to bring it up, it's now.

“Arthur I'm gonna ask you somethin’ and I want you to be honest with me, yeah?” 

Arthur is sincere, maybe worried as his eyebrows draw together and he places his hand overtop of yours. 

“Of course, anythin.” Arthur says, quietly. 

You look down at your bare lap, gathering courage that causes your heart to pound in your ears before glancing back up.

“I… Do you want me?” You ask, words hanging heavy in the air as you wait for a response. But much to your embarrassment, Arthur doesn’t give you one. He looks into your eyes, glancing around with his jaw open slightly. He opens and closes it a few times, as if he can’t find the words he's searching for. After a few moments, you hang your head, blushing and feeling like a goddamn fool, because you’ve overstepped and he doesn’t want you. 

“Oh, I see. I’m so sorry, Arthur, I’ve misstepped terribly.” You mumble, shame and embarrassment starting to drag you down. You can’t bear to look at him as you stand up to grab your clothes and leave.

 As you do, his hand grabs onto your own. 

“Darlin’ wait-” Arthur pleads, and his eyes are overflowing with emotion as he sits back down onto the bed, holding your hands in his. For a moment, you feel hopeful, maybe you were wrong, and your best friend who you are desperately in love with, wants you back. 

“I aint so good with my words sometimes. Always been better at writin’ my feelins rather than sayin’ em out loud.” Arthur says, eyes locked onto your conjoined hands before trailing up your torso to those beautiful eyes. 

“I want you. God- more than anything, I want you, sweetheart,” he pauses, brushing another stray hair behind your ear, “But I want you to understand that this isn’t about just layin’ together.” He continues, and tears well up in your eyes at his words because your feelings are being reciprocated and he's all you’ve ever wanted.

“You see I want what's tucked away in here,” Arthur whispers, pointing to the left side of your chest, right over your heart, “and I love what’s in here.” Arthur smiles, tapping your temple.

“Do I want you? Yeah, I do, sweetheart. But I want all a’ you. Your heart, your mind, your body… God- I've been sweet on you longer than I care to admit.” Arthur squeezes your hand before running his thumb under your jaw, and pulling your chin up so he can look into your teary eyes, “and well, when you asked me to draw you just now, sayin’ yes was easier than breathin’ because darlin’ you are the art. I just had to transfer that beauty onto paper.”

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his own. His big, warm hand cups your jaw, and you feel as if you could melt into his touch. You want nothing more than to be enveloped by him, to have him in every way possible, because you want him too. His beautiful, creative mind, his soft heart with so many walls around it, and you've crumbled them all to nothing more than shattered ramparts. You’ve broken him, and rebuilt him back into the man he is now, changed him forever with your heart. 

He pulls you closer until your lips meet his own. It's shy at first, two strangers meeting in a coy peck. But the familiarity comes soon, because this is Arthur, and you find yourself clinging to him, like if you let go he may disappear, or bottle back up and you can’t lose him now. You open your mouth for him, letting him in to intertwine his tongue with your own as the kiss grows more passionate. He tastes like whiskey and tobacco and Arthur, and it's too much as tears silently fall down your cheeks. Arthur pulls away for a moment, smiling softly as his thumb brushes away your tears.

“It’s rainin, we have all day…” You smile as his eyes run over your face. 

“That we do,” Arthur whispers, kissing your temple before pulling away again, “Y’know… I've had gold and silver, horses, and books worth more than this estate, but darlin’ I ain’t never had anything in my hands that was as beautiful, or as priceless, as you.” He says before leaning into your neck, kissing your pulsepoint and your collarbone. His hands toy with your breasts, running over the soft skin until your nipples harden and you lean into him. 

“Oh, Arthur,” You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you further. 

“You’re perfect.” Arthur nibbles at the flesh of your earlobe before whispering against your skin, “My blank canvas.”

Your hands come to either side of his face, pulling his gaze up to your eyes. 

“Then make me art, Arthur… mark me, have me, please I need you.” you whimper, pulling him down to your lips again, and savoring the feeling that you’ve been aching for for so long. As soon as the kiss breaks, he caresses your cheek. Again, the only sound is the rain and the thunder. His lips are swollen from where yours have left kisses, and you decide it's your favorite sight. 

“Sweetheart, I already told you. You are art, but markin’ you? Havin’ you? Now that I can do just fine.” Arthur whispers against your flush skin, illuminated as lightning flashes in the distance.

Everything makes sense, everything falls into place, when his lips crash against yours again. They are no longer shy, but needy and loving, lustful and wanting. Your hands reach to the buttons of his shirt as he lays you down on the bed, making sure the pillow under your head is comfortable before moving his lips to your neck. Once you’ve undone the buttons, he leans away to pull it off of his arms, throwing it to the side. It lands on the bedside table, knocking over a container of ink that spills onto the floor. You gasp, leaning up to inspect the damage, as Arthur anchors you, pushing you back down to the bed with his kisses. 

“It’s okay, it's alright, we’ll clean it up later sweetheart.” Arthur shushes, and you melt back into your state of euphoria with him between your legs. His lips caress your own as his hand swirls your nipple, toying with the hardened peak before it trails down to your hip. 

“I'm gonna touch you, okay?” Arthur whispers against your lips as another quiet rumble of thunder sounds out. You nod, spreading your legs for Arthur as he adjusts himself on top of you, leaning his weight on his forearm. 

“Please Arthur-” You beg as he trails his fingers down your knee to your inner thigh before running his fingers along your folds. He stops, and groans lightly, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Shit- you’re so wet. I'm sorry, darlin’ it's been awhile since I-” Arthur starts, but you lean up, pressing a kiss against his lips before whispering to him. 

“It’s okay… been awhile for me too.”

He nods against your forehead, kissing it before continuing. You spread your legs even more for him, and he sinks two fingers into your pulsing heat. Immediately, your grip on him tightens, and you whimper, eyes squinted shut as he slowly works you open. 

“Shh…shh… that’s my girl.” Arthur coos, stretching you with his fingers as you cling to him, gasping for breath at the way he touches you like you’re his canvas, his masterpiece, and the more he caresses, kisses and touches, the more beautiful you become underneath him. He didn’t think it was possible for your appearance to become any more entrancing, but as you moan, arching your back so that your breasts find release against his chest, he finds that he was wrong. 

He curls his fingers inside you rhythmically, pressing down right in the perfect spot before gently stroking your clit with his thumb. It's a delirious combination, and the only thing anchoring you from ascending to the heavens, is him. 

“That’s it, darlin’. Let it go, let me watch you unfold.” Arthur whispers, keeping a steady pace with his hands while kissing your stomach, up to your breasts. He begins to lick at your breast, swirling his tongue over your stiff nipple and kissing your skin every chance he gets. It proves to be your undoing, and just as the rain pounds on the roof even harder, and thunder sounds out, you find your release. Your nails dig into Arthur’s back as you reach your climax, the building coming in waves that have you gasping for breath and moaning. 

“Arthur-” leaves your lips in a mantra as you clamp down on his fingers, the waves of your orgasm washing over you and drowning you in the most indescribable, emotional show of affection. You see stars, flashes of bright white as you gasp and shake, hanging onto the man who you love. 

“Good girl,” Arthur whispers, kissing your forehead a few times as you come down from your high. 

“Real good, darlin.” Arthur coos, sinking his fingers into you until he has completely drawn out your release. Once your back stops arching, and hits the bed again, you pull his face down to yours once more. His hand cups your neck, and you feel your juices on his fingers as he runs his hand from your neck to your jaw, holding it while he kisses you again. His forehead meets yours as you whine. 

“I need- Arthur, I need to feel you, please.” You cry, hands running down the muscles of his chest, down the trail of sandy blonde hair that runs down below his jeans. You pop the button open, biting your lip as you press the palm of your hand against the pressure there. Arthur releases a deep groan, thrusting involuntarily against your hand. 

He leans down, kissing your nose with a smile before standing up and shedding his jeans to the ground. He steps out of them, and you prop yourself up on your elbow to admire him. 

Arthur is big. A bit longer than average, but he is girthy and thick. You scan over his rosy head, and the vein that bulges from the underside of his shaft. And as you follow up the trail of hair, to Arthur’s chest and face, he sees the worry. It’s been a long time, and truthfully you’re not very experienced with this. You don’t know if you can take him, but god, you want to. 

“Arthur I… you’re beautiful.” You whisper, watching the flex of his muscles in the candlelight, the soft, light hair that falls into his face as he chuckles, looking down to hide his smile. 

“Beautiful? Really?” Arthur asks, sarcastically. 

“Yes, Arthur, beautiful.” 

He shakes his head, not agreeing with you really, as he comes back down to the bed. He rests himself between your legs again, kissing your thigh, then your hip… and so on until he reaches those plump, bruised lips. 

“You ready? You still want this sweetheart?” Arthur asks, massaging the tender skin of your thigh as you breath out shakily. You nod, but he senses the trepidation and doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it?” He asks, pulling away from your lips to look into your eyes. He sees you smile, blushing before wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Be gentle, please. You’re- well you’re big Arthur and I really want this…” You whisper, chuckling at yourself for a second. 

“I’ll be gentle, okay? N if it hurts, you tell me. Right away.” Arthur says, almost darkly. He does not want you putting up with any pain for his sake. You nod, before leaning into his chest and wrapping your hands around his neck. Your legs, around his waist, spread a bit more and you feel his head against your entrance. Slowly, Arthur thrusts into you, and everything you were worried about shatters to the ground. God- he feels so good. And before he's fully in, you feel so full, and so stretched. You’ll never get enough of this, you realize. It’s perfect, like two puzzle pieces fitting together as he enters to the hilt and you moan as he bumps your sensitive spot. 

“You okay?” Arthur asks, stopping his hips completely, and you dig your heel into his ass, begging him to do anything but stop.

“Move, Arthur, please. Oh, you feel so good.” You whimper, your hips rising to meet Arthur’s as he thrusts into you. Your moans mix with Arthur’s groans and the thunder, and it’s all washed away by the rain. Not a peep can be heard from outside, but inside the room there is so much raw emotion, lust and love, that even the air feels like it's intruding on you two.

“Shit, sweetheart.” Arthur growls, thrusting into you with more rhythm now that he knows you’re okay. The stretch is the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that has you inching towards a climax. He kisses your lips, and you lean up to meet him halfway. The kiss is hot and passionate, with gasps for air in between and moans as you two commit the rawest act of love known to man. He rocks against you, swaying you with his hips. The pleasure combined with the emotion of him finally against you is overwhelming. You’ll never be closer, more whole than you are like this. He’s with you. The tightness in your stomach pulls, stretching and coiling all the like until it snaps. Once again, Arthur is your anchor, rocking you, and steadying you as you completely come undone beneath him. You constrict around him, muscles tightening and contracting as an intense wave of pleasure washes over you. Your moans are loud, breathy as you release the tension he’s created within you. It’s too much for Arthur, and as you squeeze around him, he thrusts into you a few times, hard and deep before he cums inside you, filling you completely with his seed. 

“You did so well, darlin. You’re so beautiful…” Arthur whispers, kissing your forehead before placing a long, slow kiss on your lips. He stays there for a moment, letting you catch your breath before sliding out of you. He lands on the bed beside you, and you curl up against his chest. 

“Arthur?” You ask, placing your hand on his chest and cuddling further into him. He takes a sheet from the bottom of the bed, pulling it over you until you’re decent.

“What is it sweetheart?” Arthur asks, brows furrowed as he runs his hand along your arm and watches the rise and fall of your body against his. 

“Did you mean it? Everything you said before…” You ask, propping your chin up to look into his eyes. He runs his hand up and down your back, soothing you while smiling. 

“Course I did.” Arthur whispers, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. 

“I… I love you, y’know.” You whisper back, leaning your head against his chest, too nervous to look into his eyes. Arthur only chuckles, pulling your head closer to his chest with his hand.

“I know, and I love ya too.”

The rest of the rainy day is spent in various forms of affection. You and Arthur lay together all day, whether sleeping or not, reading and drawing or just holding each other. Everything seems right now. Like for the first time in your life you’ve found your purpose, your person. He is your other half, your strength, your ecstasy, and he loves you too, your little aesthete.

[dailycupofcreativitea]

AHHHHH you're playing kingdom hearts? Please report back with your thoughts when you feel up to it it's my special interest 👀

Okay here are some thoughts I've spammed to my friends in the last few days! (BTW I read the manga already for the first game so I basically spoiled it but I was still equally as shocked when these things happened in the game lol)

By the way, spoilers below for anyone who hasn't played!

General thoughts:

SORA IS SOOOOOOOOOO CUTE 🥺 The voice actor voiced him PERFECTLY, he's exactly the perfect combination of hopeful, friendship, little kid, strong heart, over confident at times, stubborn, sweet. 😭💖

Told a friend I love Sora in a different way than I love Gohan, here were my thoughts: Gohan is more quiet, sweet, gentle, burdened with a lot of power that he seems hesitant to use and slowly builds his confidence throughout the show, I relate to Gohan a lot, sweet cinnamon roll that must be protecc, but forced to protecc others, etc etc Sora is sweet and gentle but loud, has a HUGE heart and he uses it to protect his friends with 100% confidence (he's more like Goku in that way), his heart is just unwavering and he doesn't seem to doubt himself often (at least in KH1), funny and goofy and his stubbornness can get him into trouble sometimes but his bonds with his friends give him strength, I don't relate to him but I would love to draw inspiration from him

"Shonen protagonist done by Disney" vibes (as put aptly by @genisflyingkites)

Riku is so insanely jealous of Sora it's hilarious, he's overall kind of a jerk and even Kairi said she wanted to leave the island without him, but also Riku is 15 and hormonal and Maleficent got to him so I don't really blame him for it

Donald and Goofy are way less annoying than I assumed they would be, I like that they seem refreshingly mature?? Donald is stubborn and beefs with Sora a lot and Goofy seems like he has a good head on his shoulders and is a deep thinker

Also I keep seeing memes of Donald constantly getting knocked out in game and being useless but for me Donald ALWAYS comes in clutch with the elixirs and ethers

That scene where Maleficent tells Riku that Sora replaced him and Kairi with Donald and Goofy was sad in both the manga and the game but what REALLY made my jaw drop was that SORA LOWKEY FELT THE SAME:

(Yes he was fighting with Donald at the time too but LOOK AT HIS FACE!!! 😭🙏)

If Riku talked to Sora for more than 10 seconds at a time literally all of this would be resolved XD LIKE!! Sora is literally trying to find them! Riku please!

This scene had my sister and I's JAWS ON THE FLOOR:

It was low blow after low blow! I read this in the manga too but somehow it hit harder in the game!

Hollow Bastion is a great OST and I've been listening to it on repeat. The map is also pretty nice but I wish I could explore more without heartless appearing every 5 seconds

Actually I also liked the OST "A Day in Agrabah"

I beat Riku's ass in 10 seconds and it was glorious (Ansem is a whole other story...still working on it)

DID I MENTION SORA HAS SUCH A KIND AND SWEET AND STRONG HEART!?

Every single cutscene had the words "light" "darkness" "friendship" "heart" "memories" repeated over and over again to form a cutscene (I saw this in a Youtube video and thought it was incredibly accurate XD)

My sister and I were CRACKING UP during this cutscene because it made NO SENSE

It just kept getting more and more non-sensical XD

I think Aladdin was my favourite world so far but tbh they were all pretty cool (Sora's Halloween Town fit was so cute! Also I loved flying around by Big Ben, and then getting the glide feature)

The Maleficent Dragon boss was really hard, cool, and fun; Tinker Bell really came in clutch

Also I gotta say this game is really hard to play because the control are so annoying, the jump function is annoying (I keep falling off and misjudging his jump), it keep glitching cause it's connected to the cloud or something, the directions are too vague so I have to follow a walkthrough while playing, and I have to keep stopping between plays because I get motion sickness from the wildly spinning camera really easily -- despite all that I am indeed having a blast

I think that's all my thoughts for now :3

[ohblimeygeorge]

I saw an anon ask to @russilton about pregnant George learning to crochet and this just instantly came to me and I had to get it down.

I’ve never written gewis before so this was fun!

✨✨✨

George is nothing if not an over thinker. Lewis knows that much.

So it’s not a total surprise to find an empty spot next to him in bed at 2:36am.

George does this sometimes, when his mind is working overtime and he has so many thoughts going through his brain that he finds himself getting restless and feeling smothered by the rumpled bedsheets and another warm body snoring next to him, so takes himself off to make a cuppa in the kitchen where he can take a moment to breathe and focus his mind into the night sky past the kitchen window and on the life still bustling about below. He’ll spend half an hour or so there before feeling calmer and able to slip back in beside Lewis, no longer feeling overwhelmed and instead snuggling back under Lewis’ arm to cuddle in close. Lewis panicked the first few times it happened, demanding to know what was wrong and wanting to help but now he realises that sometimes George just needs that space and he’ll come back when he’s ready.

So he dozes off again, fully expecting the next time he wakes to find his missing boyfriend back where belongs.

It’s 4:24am and George is still missing.

This starts setting alarms bells ringing in Lewis’ head because this is unusual. It’s been almost 2 hours and he’s still not come back. Lewis knows George has been doing his disappearing act a little more lately, knows the kind of thoughts he’s having and knows now more than ever George has been feeling especially claustrophobic when he gets like this.. but Lewis can’t help but worry. Even if George waves him off to go back to bed, he needs to find him.

So he shoves his slippers on and stumbles into the kitchen, expecting to find him there sipping on his camomile tea, sleep creases on his face, hair wild. But he’s not.

He checks the living room - not there. Bathroom? George has been known to spend quite a bit of time in there as of late so it’s not unreasonable Lewis thinks. Not in there either.

Then he realises there’s only one room really left to check.

Walking back down the hall, he notices the door slightly ajar so knows he’s right. Pushing it open more, he’s immediately hit with the soft glow of the lamp on the dresser and the comfy armchair in the corner is filled with George’s lanky limbs and rounded belly. And he’s - knitting?

“George?”

Jumping at the voice, George looks up and freezes mid stitch, cheeks blushing red at being caught. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Lewis replies dumbly, moving into the room and leaning up against the changing table. “You’ve been gone ages.”

“Oh, sorry..” George apologises, just now spotting what the time is by the clock on the dresser, “lost track of time.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Ok… why are you knitting at four in the morning?”

With an exasperated sigh, George lays his craft on his belly, “it’s not knitting, Lew, I’ve told you, it’s crochet.” He explains, as if Lewis is the dumbest guy ever to not know the difference no matter how many times George has told him now, “and I just thought I should carry on making some cute things for her.”

After not being allowed to race anymore, George had to find something else to occupy his time. Lewis genuinely thought he’d just stay at the pit wall or hang around the garage, not being able to stay away but no. He went into full on nesting mode and decided he wanted to learn a new hobby that would benefit the baby so crochet it was. He was actually pretty good - although Lewis knew George was great at anything he put his mind to - and had already made a few hats and a blanket for her and made Lewis a scarf which he wore at the very next race, showing off George’s accomplishments.

“Right…” Lewis is still confused at the explanation but thinks there’s a little something more to it. “And you thought this time of morning was the ideal time to start?”

“Mhm.”

Lewis watches him for a moment, his concentration fixed as he methodically follows the YouTube tutorial which he’s only just now noticed George has up on his phone perched on the arm. It’s suppose to be a cardigan apparently, looks like it’ll turn out super cute with the colour matching the already made blanket and Lewis would be lying if he said he couldn’t imagine how adorable their daughter would look in it. But so far George had only made the back and half an arm so there was still some way to go. He’s impressed with how good it looks already. He watches him a little while longer, noting the characteristic crease between his brows and knows he’s trying his hardest to quiet his brain. Bending down to be level with him and earning a quiet snort from George as his knees creak with the effort, Lewis places his hand on George’s knee, gaining his full attention once more. “Babe, talk to me.”

He doesn’t expect it, but George suddenly tears up and it’s like once he’s started, he can’t stop. Startled, Lewis pauses his video for him and gently takes the half made cardigan and crochet hooks out of George’s hands and places it down on the floor carefully before pulling him in for a hug. He lets George cry it out before he feels ready to talk, running a soothing hand up and down his back, letting his nails lightly scratch at the same time the way he knows George likes. It’s a little awkward of an angle especially with the bump but Lewis doesn’t care. “Talk to me.” He repeats softly.

Letting out a choked breath as he stems his tears, George sits back and places his hands around his bump protectively, rubbing his thumbs on the skin where he can feel her wiggling about. “I just.. I just want things to go right.”

“What do you mean?” Lewis asks

“Well, like, what if something goes wrong with the birth? What if I do something wrong and it hurts her? I haven’t even packed a bag yet and there’s only a few weeks left to go and there’s so much to do in here still! And what if when she is here we don’t know what to do with her? Like how will we know what her cries mean? Or what time to put her to bed and wake her up? How will we know when to start helping her to roll over or crawl or walk? Or what if she doesn’t like us? Doesn’t like me?” He finished his ramble with a big stuttering inhale, blue eyes wide and watery.

Lewis knew George was a pretty emotional person anyway but pregnancy hormones had amplified that. So he knew not to react unkindly despite how silly some of the things he was worried over sounded. “George, babe, listen to me okay? You have nothing to be worried about. The bag thing, we’ll sort tomorrow yeah? Get it sorted, no problem. The room can wait because she’ll be sleeping in with us for at least the next 6 months anyway.” He soothed, “You won’t do anything to hurt her because I know you would do anything to make sure she’s safe. And no parent knows what they’re doing first time round yeah? It’s all learning and trial and error and learning what works for us as a family. And things like walking, we really don’t need to worry about that just yet.” He chuckled, “and of course she’ll like you. She’ll adore you. Just like I do.”

George just gave a pathetic little sniffle as he listened to what his boyfriend had to say. “I’m sorry for being so stupid.” He mumbled, looking down at his hands still rubbing patterns on his skin.

Lewis looked personally offended at that and placed his hands on George’s cheeks getting him to focus fully on him. “Don’t ever apologise for being worried ok? And you are not stupid. This whole becoming a parent thing is really scary for me too, so I’m right there with you but all we need to focus on is not things going right but just doing this together and loving her. That’s all we can do and the rest will follow, yeah?”

George nodded as best he could with his face being held in the protective grip of Lewis.

Feeling satisfied that he understood, Lewis let go and bent down to pick up the forgotten item on the floor. “Now, why don’t you carry on with this for a bit longer? Then we can come back to bed and get some sleep.” Lewis suggested, handing back the little pink half-cardigan.

“We?” George asked, confused, “Lew, it’s okay, you can go back to bed. It’ll be boring just watching me.”

“Nah, I want to.” Lewis answered, sitting back on the floor to lean his back against the dresser and getting comfy. “Besides, I can watch you and maybe pick up a few tips and then we can make a whole wardrobe for her!”

George just let out a snort as he saw Lewis’ cheeky smirk, settling himself to get cosy in the chair again before pressing play on his phone to resume the video.

After half an hour of comfortable, peaceful silence, both men were asleep, letting out soft snores in their soon-to-be daughter’s room.

[slavicviking]

Steve wakes up to a heart-shaped box on his doorstep.

He only narrowly misses it, too, almost stepping into it on his way to the mailbox. It’s obnoxiously sparkling red but doesn’t match the ones everyone in Hawkins has been assaulted with at every shop for the last week or so. No, this one looks hand-made, strips of red paper peeling off at the sides. It sports a makeshift bow, too, carefully wrapped around the box. There is no name attatched to it, at least none that he can see, but there’s a ‘Happy Valentine’s’ scrawled on the top in a handwriting Steve doesn’t recognize.

His first instinct is to pick it up and see what’s inside but then every existing alarm bell in his head starts ringing at the same time. He promptly takes a step back, heels hitting the first step up to the porch. Stays there. 

There is no one in particular that comes to mind as to who could leave this for him. He hasn’t been on a date in months, a fact that Robin likes to point out too much for his liking. He doesn’t think any of the girls he has gone out with would have any lingering feelings at all, not that they seem like the type to handcraft a box themselves anyway. And the one person he would like to receive a gift from hates Valentine’s Day with a passion.

“It’s literally a marketing scheme so you spend all your money on useless shit,” Eddie told him last week before dipping his pizza in ranch dressing which is objectively disgusting. He’s a strange dude. Steve wants to kiss him senseless. 

But - the box. 

It was one of the many summer barbeques at Hopper’s that Joyce did a retelling of hers and Murray’s fun little trip to the Soviet Union and though Steve’s memory of that evening is hazy at best, he does remember them mentioning a strange package. It’s been a threat that existed  at the back of his mind since Starcourt. Those people are relentless, persistent, they don’t forget. And they - Steve and Robin and the kids - they got out and know too much.

Eyes on the box, Steve makes his way back into the house and grabs at the walkie.

“Henderson, we might have a problem.”

-&-

Eddie has a plan.

It’s a pretty ambitious one, according to Gareth at least, but Eddie tries to stay a positive thinker - so unlike him, he can admit that, but after you face literal monsters from a hellish dimension, certain very-human things like crushes and the like seem less scary. Who knew it would only take almost dying by the likes of demonic bats for him to find more confidence to pursue a love interest.

A Steve Harrington-shaped love interest at that. 

Nancy and Robin insist, though, that he does have a chance and his flirting attempts have been reciprocated so far, so maybe they do have a point. He hopes so, at least. 

The first step of the plan, admittedly, does not scream ‘confidence’ but Eddie’s a careful guy, or he is when it comes to these matters at least. Navigating social queues has never been his strong suit, not really, but with Steve - it’s easy. Comfortable. Still, he’s laying the groundwork first, starts simple enough - anonymously, too, though not without effort put into it. Wayne can attest, what with the bits of glue and red glitter still making appearances in various places in the trailer. 

What Eddie expects, hopefully, is Steve being maybe enamored with the gift, curious about the secret admirer. And then - then follows a passionate confession and a happy ending. 

What Eddie doesn’t expect is an unkown car and a couple of bikes parked in the Harrington driveway by the time he gets there. Stepping out of his van, he’s ambushed by voices he recognizes all too well screaming over each other in the backyard, it seems. And, just as he predicted, by the Harrington infamous pool there is Dustin and Mike and Max, there is Steve and Robin, and some guy - and they’re all wearing goggles, hands shoved into protective gloves- 

“What the fuck.”

“Stay where you are boy, this is serious business,” the stranger tells him, hands tightening around the rope he’s holding. There’s a whole wild construction they conjured up, the rope sliding over some branches of a maple tree, a bucket of paint holding onto its opposite end. Directly in the line of where it would eventually fall lays a familiar box.

“My chocolate?” 

“Oh, for the love of-” the man groans, pointing a finger in Eddie’s general direction, eyes narrowed behind wide-framed glasses. “Are you, or are you not, an enemy of the people?”

“Murray-!”

“No?” Eddie squeaks out before clearing his throat. “No, uh, definitely not. An enemy.”

“It’s from you?” Steve steps out from behind the wall of deck chairs, as do the kids and Robin. He looks silly yet still adorable with the snorkeling goggles covering half of his face. Even as he rips it off, red markings remain around his eyes and nose. Eddie thinks he’s never looked prettier. He nods.

“But I thought you hated Valentine’s- wait, does that mean?”

“I wouldn’t hate it with you-”

“I didn’t sign up for another one of these,” Murray butts in from behind them, slowly releasing the rope so it doesn’t damage the acquitted suspect, though it does look like he would very much like to smash it to pieces. “C’mon, kids, the fun is over.”

“But-”

“Steve-”

“That’s so lame-”

“Goodbye,” Murray says through clenched teeth, pushing the kids towards the exit, Robin giving the pair a very unsubtle thumbs up from behind him. He pauses to stare at Eddie and Steve. “Just kiss already, save us the drama. Can’t believe I missed Growing Pains for this.”

[intertexts]

new haven wards thought dump under the cut....!!!!!!! 💥

william bell / wraith-- breaker, shaker, stranger / his breaker state manifests as a crackling form of white-blue fire; he can control how visible or how much this form manifests; the less visible it is, the harder it is to affect the physical world. *crucially, it thereby evades the manton effect organic/inorganic limitation. [in addition to this, whenever he's in his breaker form, he can manifest, shape, and control energy where the energy's volume/strength is directly relative to the amount of recent death in the near vicinity. the energy manifests as similar ghostly fire.] + post second trigger in deadwood, his ability to shape, maintain, and cloak this energy in illusory appearances is greatly heightened.

dakota damascus / failsafe-- mover, thinker / capable of extremely fast and controlled flight [around 90mph top speed] and movement, with similarly heightened perceptual processing. in addition, he senses whatever future pain that anyone in a several block radius will experience in the next shortly before it happens, and lasting as long as the sensation does. this manifests primarily as a dulled, ambient sensation that can be focused in w/ similarly mirrored pain to pinpoint who and what. this perception cannot be 'turned off.'

virion sol / imprint-- trump / copies abilities by touching another parahuman. the copied abilities maintain the full strength of the original, but he does not similarly gain an awareness of how to familiarly use the ability. for many powers and with experience, this isn't a problem, but there are also many which are not only be difficult to learn and inefficient but also debilitating to himself and/or others [i.e. overwhelming sensory input, difficult to control]. he cannot turn this ability off-- any skin-to-skin contact with another parahuman will result in copying of their powers, with any previous copied abilities he has being erased. he keeps these abilities for as long as he can concentrate on holding them: familiar and frequently-used powers he can often keep for hours at a time, while mentally overwhelming or potent powers slip out of his grasp quickly and leave him with migraines or other symptoms of distress.

ashe winters / auxiliary / muse-- shaker, breaker / pure telekinesis affecting inorganic material with an upper limit several times his body weight. the longer he's actively using his power and the more strain it's under, the more powerful the telekinesis becomes and the less lucid he becomes, with his powers moving more and more on autopilot until he catches on, pulls himself back, is pulled back or knocked out. in certain rare and unfortunate situations, almost always preceded by this death spiral his breaker state involuntarily triggers: in these scenarios, his power narrows down to a smaller radius around him, within which physics and spatial laws of reality melt, bubble, and shift in improbable, dreamlike, and irrational ways.

[wilderebellion]

Mentopolis: Wordplay for Episodes 1 and 2

(One for episodes 3 and 4 will be coming)

Cerebell Pacific - The cerebellum is a part of the brain that affects motor control and, to some extent, cognitive functions. In the city of Mentopolis, this is where the Synaptic Switchboard resides. Older telephones utilized switchboard systems. The name is a play on one of the real life telecommunications companies that formed under the Bell System. [Side note: Pacific Bell became AT&T California and Bell Atlantic became Verizon.]

Occipital Park - Occipital means related to the back of the head. The occipital lobe has several areas related to vision. Possibly a play on New York's Central Park.

Cortex City - The cortex of the brain handles higher functions like consciousness. The cortex has 4 lobes: frontal, parietal, temporal, and occipital, which seem to be a LOOSE basis for the mapping of the city's districts. It is NOT a one-to-one correlation, though. Many famous cities are nicknamed as ____ City, such as Empire City (NYC) or the Windy City (Chicago).

Motor City - A section of Mentopolis that corresponds to the limbic system. This area contributes to behavior, memory, emotions, motivation, etc. Also the nickname of Detroit due to the automotive industry.

Imelda Pulse - (Impulse) Her family is influential, not simply because they are "old money" but because they are among the few who can directly influence The Big Guy. The Pulses may have been here before the city was founded, which I took as referring to the stages of fetal development. Imelda herself is prone to being reckless in an impulsive sense, to both positive and negative effect.

Hunch Curio - (Curiosity) He's a private detective motivated by curiosity, and eager to answer questions. He isn't always the deepest thinker; he tends to take a pretty simple approach. His body of work is built on answering pretty much any query that crosses his path. Unlike Danielle's character, he seems to thrive on the "puff piece" mysteries that she's grown tired of, and they often run into each other while working. To their mutual frustration.

A real swingin' dick - Fun wordplay here. A shorthand way to refer to a detective, typically a private investigator (see the Theme song for Shaft). It is also, of course, a slang term for male genitalia. Makes for easy double entendre: Hunch is a real on-the-move, following-the-clues professional, and/or he maybe has a big penis.

The Fix - (Hyperfixation) A fixer of situations. The Fix eliminates distractions, as requested by the DA's office, that could compromise The Big Guy's work. He's not only efficient, but he LIKES his job, weirdness and all. He is honest, straight-forward, and genuinely nice most of the time. He has a fondness for children though he's not instantly better at interfacing with them compared to adults.

Mark Bition - (Ambition) Can we PLEASE talk about the detail of that TIE, though?! It's doing so much for not only the art composition, but also just informing the personality of the character. Like, yes, obviously, homeboy's the District Attorney, he travels in a fancy car with a souped up engine, is well-dressed, etc. HE WEALTHY. His stocks and social status are on the RISE! But there's also a slightly unnerving, possibly sinister undertone to him. That arrow-esque tie not only evokes rising wealth, but also kinda resembles a devilish tail.

Don Avaricci - Part of the criminal underworld. Avarice is greed. His enforcers/thugs/goons include Roscoe Hungry, Johnny Gullible, and Simon Praise, to name a few. Per the Adventuring Party for "The Scattered Mind", Brennan indicated this crime family is all "appetites" of a kind.

Conrad Schintz - Con Schintz (Conscience) Conrad is a "too small" boy living on the streets and selling newspapers. He's the under developed moral compass for Elias Hodge; he has an inkling of what good and bad decisions are but has reservations about speaking up.

Justin Fication - (Justification) The only part of Elias' mind that isn't humanoid. Which is sort of a fascinating choice - that the part of his mind that requires REASON is remarkably intelligent, but also the most animal-like. If Justin is somehow a manifestation of Conrad's who goes away when the kid starts to grow up I will lose it

Anastasia "A" Tention - (Attention) As a reporter at the Daily Observer, it's pretty straightforward that she's got a keen eye. What sets her apart from Hunch is she's after the Bigger Picture and things making sense. She's less prone to instigating violence, but she can keep her cool under pressure

While we see the first name Anastasia on the character card, I noticed Danielle mostly refers to her character as A. Later conversation suggests she is a less well-known relative of the Pulse family, which might make her name originally A. Pulse.

A Pulse -- > Being "on the pulse" of something means to "be aware of the latest things happening" about a topic, which lends itself very well to a reporter.

It's possible the names Anastasia and Imelda were chosen because they sound uppercrust, or because of their connections to influential families. More literal name meaning seems less likely at this juncture, but with D20 anything is possible. (While Anastasia is related to resurrection, the name Imelda is related to an all-consuming fight or powerful battle)

Anastasia's file number is 001, and Imelda's is straight up ?? - I got a little lost in the sauce a few days ago trying to analyze everyone's file numbers. At first, Imelda's seems like a fun nod to her being the "mysterious" femme fatale type - and yet, because of the genre and how talented Siobhan is, I'm now instantly suspicious that some other shoe is going to drop. Like she's secretly working for the DA or Don Avaricci or something to obfuscate the mystery.

Norrell Ojiccle - (Neurological) Murder victim, employee at Cerebell Pacific for the Switchboard. Seemingly an average brain citizen. He may have sought out the prohibited Oxytocin at Sugah's due to loneliness. His death is quite possibly the first domino in an onset of Depression for Elias Hodge, or something more complicated. Also, he has four arms. I'm not letting that art detail go until we get a crew Adventuring Party for this season. His file number refers to the police code for a murder.

Daniel Fucks - Proprietor of Sugah's, and the go-to guy for pleasures and delights, carnal or otherwise. The pleasure center of Elias Hodge's brain.

Sugah's - Located in the pleasure center of the brain. The name refers to sweets. In this setting, this is the speakasy/club where you come to find something to feel good. Pleasures could be based in anything one might find enjoyable, but the establishment seems to be popular as of late because of the prohibited substances due to city ordinances.

Donna Fucks and Club Spice - Due to improv worldbuilding from episode 2, these may now exist. Donna is the sister (possibly twin?) to Dan, based on the correlation between pain and pleasure. She runs a parallel club (possibly with more adult themes) and works even more than Dan does.

Leon Logic - Mayor of Cortex City. Insistent upon how much "sense" his campaign makes. His abbreviated name L. Logic could suggest illogic - though this is not confirmed. Maybe he's just the "face" or "mouthpiece" of the leadership structure, and someone else is coming up with the "big plans" for Elias.

Hans Schadenfreude - (Do I really have to explain this one? Avenue Q has a whole song about it) Okay fine - coming from the wonderful German language, this refers to deriving pleasure from the misfortune of others. Every Hans interaction is S Tier, he's probably my new fave Brennan NPC.

Libby Longshower - She's the waitress at Sugah's, which suggests she's some kind of pleasure. She might be a simple one, the feeling of luxuriating under hot water. Her name might also be a nod to the more physical self-pleasures that one someone might enjoy and it results in a long shower. Her file text describes her as one "steamy" tomato and her file number might be a reference to a police code for lewd conduct.

Joey Sneezes - Seems to be a specific type of pleasure, the relief of a good sneeze.

Oblongata Station - The Medulla Oblongata is where your brain and nervous system connect. It has a lot of functions, which makes sense why the stationmaster in Mentopolis has so many different levers to access certain functions. The trains seem to operate along the nerve connections. The stationmaster's name is Max Medulla [although I think the character file spelled it with one "l".]

Chief Alexander Tightass - Literally A Tightass. The uptight chief of police. Works in conjunction with the DA's office but only within the bounds of the law. He's not immune to temptation (see flirting with Dan Fucks) but he doesn't give in to it. He's very committed to his job, much like Elias has been for Gobstopper Industries.

Donny Urges - An urge/desire/impulse that seems to have become an Intrusive Thought. Now neutralized.

Freddy Focus - Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Observer. He has one big eyeball which is also the logo for the newspaper. He seems to intense but limited perspective - he prioritizes urgency and short-term developments over the "bigger picture" stuff. Maybe the one eyeball also indicates this lack of perception.

Receptors - Not really a pun, but they function much like post office workera or message couriers. Different receptors report to different authorities: Wilton, for instance, answers to Dan Fucks.

Millie and Ollie - Workers at the memory bank which is the library of the Hippo Campus.

Wilton - An elderly pleasure receptor from the genitalia. His appearance is a reference to "blue balls" and his name is clearly a play on "wilting" as in a flaccid penis.

Shock troops - Also known as assault troops in the real world, they are formations to lead an attack. In Mentopolis, they are a personification of actual Shock following a trauma. They jump into action to silence pain through violence and arrest.

[furiaehope]

True Appearance (1)

(One evening in the office)

Matilda:

Why are there so many research archives?

I’m burned out.

Does the timekeeper want us to tire ourselves out?

Sonetto:

Maybe the end of the world is coming, and we must work harder to live up to the timekeeper's expectations.

Matilda:

But where is the timekeeper now?

Joshua: 

Hmm... this is a good question.

Have you noticed that Timkeeper disappears after 18:00 this past two weeks?

Matilda:

Yes! I also noticed that Sonetto couldn't sleep because she was worried about Timkeeper.

Sonetto: 

（A bit ashamed） 

There is no such thing Matilda.

If we're worried about Timekeeper, why not ask Mr. X?

Maybe he knows what the timekeeper is busy with after 18:00.

They agreed with Sonetto's idea, so they used their free time to go to Laplace Computing Center.

(At Laplace Computing Center)

Mr. X:

So you came to me because of Timekeeper? Although I know the various properties of Arcanist very well, I have no way of knowing the whereabouts of Timekeeper.

I'm so sorry that I may not be of much help, but those of you who often deal with Timekeeper should know the situation of Timekeeper better than I do.

Joshua:

I see what you mean, thank you.

I also want to ask Mr. X two more questions

First of all, has Mr. X noticed that the timekeeper's personality changes very quickly?

Second, I needed the chip material to make the tracker. Can you share some with me please?

Mr. X:

Yeah, Timekeeper was originally a very calm thinker, but recently he has been particularly prone to anger.

Additionally you need some chip material!? No problem, I will ask Miss John Titor to bring it to you.

Joshua:

Great, then I want to ask Sonetto and Matilda if you think there is anything unusual about the timekeeper's personal state.

Sonetto:

The timekeeper sometimes seems to be a different person, very mature and steady, like a handsome man.

This makes me a little tempted

Matilda:

Um? Do you feel tempted, Sonetto?

pfff I really envy the timekeeper!

Regarding the timekeeper's personality I once saw she suddenly resemble that of a young and scared child Obviously not in line with her usual calm attitude.

Joshua:

Thank you all for the detailed explanation. I get it and I'll figure out a solution.

Sonetto:

At 18:00 in the evening, the timekeeper left the office on time. Maybe there was something unspeakable, and she didn't want everyone to share the pressure.

Matilda:

Hope nothing serious

Mr. X:

It sounds like Joshua's favorite horror story happened to Timekeeper.

In the past, the Foundation caused a lot of psychological trauma to Timekeeper, which gave her a high chance of developing a split personality.

It's also possible that a ghost is possessing the Timekeeper or a combination of both.

Joshua:

Fine. I need some calm time to think about the true horror of this.

Mr. X:

Wait...！

Miss John Titor is here.

Ta-da your materials Joshua!

John Titor:

49276D4A6F686E5469746F72

54686973206973207468652063686970206d6174657269616c20796f752077616e74

Joshua got the materials. He said that the finished product would be attached to a beautiful pendant. After asking Sonetto to disguise it as a gift and give it to the Timekeeper, he asked Bkornblume to take over the task and track the target's route and location.

（One day The bell rings, Bkornblume answers the call )

Bkornblume:

Hello can I help you?

...I got it

To be continued...

[haggishlyhagging]

Virginia Woolf's politics are not (male) party politics, but feminist politics, and I think that there are few areas of feminist thought to which she has not made a contribution. Her fundamental thesis that those who are in power perceive the world differently (and determine the scale of values) from those outside the power structure (and whose values are therefore decreed to be deviant, eccentric, neurotic, irrational, inexplicable) is for me one of the touchstones of feminism, and helps to explain the way she has been treated, removed from the realms of philosopher or political analyst, and cast into the mould of delicate and elaborate artist. (There is even a jarring of images if one tries to visualise Virginia Woolf as a tough political thinker - which indicates how pervasive the portrayal has been - yet in Three Guineas, which she carefully planned in order to 'strike very sharp and clear on a hot iron' (Carroll, 1978, p. 103), her avowed intention was - as is the title of Carroll's essay - ‘To Crush Him In Our Own Country’, which is a tough stand in the face of the drift to war.)

Woolf herself would not have been surprised at the treatment she has received, consigned to a separate and acceptable women's sphere outside the mainstream of intellectual recognition, for after all, were women not literally locked out of men's libraries? She understood this process and it was precisely the one she was attempting to subvert with the documentation of women's heritage - and possibilities - in A Room of One's Own. She tried to construct a coherent context in which women's values were meaningful and invested with layers of symbolism, and celebration - no mean feat in a society in which the symbolism of the phallus is so pervasive and where men consistently celebrate their own achievements, but where women's imagery and celebration is invisible. And she tried to do this because she recognised the political nature and the significance of the act of creating a different and autonomous women's culture outside the control of men, although still rooted in the culture of men, and in opposition to it.

When Florence Howe asserts that women's studies is not a ghetto but the centre of the construction of knowledge, based on the experience of half the population (with the implication that it is men's studies which is on a side-track), she is doing nothing less than Virginia Woolf, who made it a virtue to be an outsider in an exploitative and oppressive society. Women can best help society, can best serve the interests of achieving freedom, equality and peace, by not helping men, argues Woolf, in Three Guineas, by not imitating them or supporting them in their aggression, violence, and war. She urges women to stay out of patriarchal institutions, to find their own critical and creative means of promoting change (1938, p. 206), and to remain free from unreal loyalties, to remain outside that ‘loyalty to old schools, old colleges, old churches, old ceremonies, old countries’ (ibid., p. 142).

This was the book Leonard Woolf decreed as not very good, indeed to which he was hostile: ‘“Maynard Keynes was both angry and contemptuous: it was, he declared, a silly argument and not very well written.” E.M. Forster thought it "the worst of her books." Quentin Bell perhaps best displayed the depth of incomprehension of the book in reporting his own reactions: “What really seemed wrong . . . was the attempt to involve a discussion of women's rights with the far more agonising and immediate question of what we were to do in order to meet the ever growing menace of Fascism and War. The connection between the two questions seemed tenuous and the positive suggestions wholly inadequate”’ (Carroll, 1978, p. 119). Bell missed Virginia Woolf’s thesis that tyranny begins at home; Adrienne Rich (1980) did not. In her appeal to women to be 'Disloyal to Civilization' she quotes and builds upon Woolf's concept of ‘freedom from unreal loyalties’. To Rich, as to Woolf, it was the values of a society controlled by men which women must disown, and challenge, in the interest of freedom, equality and peace.

-Dale Spender, Women of Ideas and What Men Have Done to Them

[alovelyburn]

Hi! Do you know any media - either western or eastern - with a character like Griffith in it? Thanks

That's a tough one. There are tons of characters who evoke similar tropes or are directly inspired by Griffith, but it depends on which parts of Griffith you're looking for. So... I'll give names and then just kind of expand on how they are Griffith-esque.

Giorno Giovanna from JoJo's always struck me as a bit of a Griffith Lite. He's idealistic but ruthless, a strategic thinker, has big dreams and does a lot of sus things in pursuit of more positive goals. He's also given to poetic proclamations.

The classic is Ryo Asuka from Devilman, who is a direct inspiration for Griffith and has a very similar role/dynamic with Akira (the protagonist... you probably know this already but you know) to Griffith's and Guts'... emotionally, but not behaviorally. Like Ryo and Griffith don't act anything alike but they have similar functions. Yeah.

Laurent from the Captive Prince is partially inspired by Griffith - I haven't gotten very far in that book, but Griffith is a stated inspiration.

Chrollo Lucilfer from Hunter x Hunter is kind of a hybrid Griffith/Femto type figure to me. He hits a lot of the same buttons as Griffith but is much more overtly malevolent. Still, the intelligence, strategic thinking, his way of going from adorable to terrifying, and something about the way he... talks... Always reminds me of Griffith. And like Griffith he's quite difficult to read and can instill existential dread in orders without doing very much. Also, books.

Blade of the Phantom Master (Shin Angyo Onshi) has a ... lot of things in it that remind me of Berserk, but when it comes to Griffith, they have two different characters that kind of ring the bells. For Griffith the human, the main one is Hae Mo Su, who is the main character's deceased best friend who appears only in flashbacks once you're past the middle of the series. The other oen is Aji Tae, the main villain - a lot of people compare him to Griffith, but he's more of a Femto, although he sometimes pretends to be a Griffith. Also because of plot things, it's... an interesting comparison.

Artorius from Tales of Berseria has a lot in common with him - mind you I've never actually played the game so take it with a grain of salt. But he's a silver haired idealist who becomes unemotional due to a severe loss and then proceeds to do awful things in the name of benefiting humanity so, there you are.

If you want something MUCH MUCH MORE LIGHTHEARTED than anything else on this list, I'm Stanning the Prince is a romance manhwa webcomic that simultaneously strongly evokes Berserk and turns it into like... a lighthearted romance comic. The younger/crown prince is physically identical to Griffith and has a Griffithy vibe... also his sigil is a blue and white wolf whereas his brother's sigil is a red and black bird, so like.... anyway but again this is romance comic so don't expect it to go too heavy.

Le'Garde from Fear & Hunger (dark RPG) is perhaps the most 1-for-1 comparison I've seen in terms of role and story, though he has some non-Griffith twists to him. He is directly based on Griffith, though. I saw a review call this game "Undertale, but it's Berserk."

All that said, the closest I've ever come to being like, this guy may as well just be Griffith was... Canute from Vinland Saga. When he first appears, this comparison will seem pretty shallow but just hang in there. By the time I paused in my reading (which I need to get back to) I was like, oh this is what Griffith would be like as King, cool cool.

[conradrasputin]

zacchioverse masterpost for my reference, descriptions via wonderful @zappedbyzabka

Greg Tolan: Total bitch. Thinks he’s a queen and owns the world. Likes muscle but likes big cocks more. His ass gets just a little fatter than the others because he’s a gym bunny. He’s a bitch but a bitch that doesn’t feel like he’s being one. He’s a power bottom and likes getting called mommy and kicking balls. But he also likes getting shoved down and fucked hard, be made to beg. I have a whole world written for him (which includes Maz, whom we’ll get to)

Scott McCall: He’s very baby. Very squeaky and soft but still a brat. He’s a brat but even then it’s very mild—like he’s trying to be but is just too sweet. Especially with his Daddy.

He loves criminals and “bad” guys and rough men. He’s the type to wear pigtails and a sundress hoping to get fucked up in an alley and leave dripping cum. But in reality he needs a good Daddy to take care of him

Ruben: Gangbang whore. Gets gangbanged nightly and his boypussy is always red. Crazy, crazy ass sweetheart. Femme fatale potential. He’s clearly in love with his buddy Nick in the movie (lays out on a hotel bed with his arms above his head and smiling at him. Some point out one shot of Nick with his lame ass ponytail looks like Silver from behind, which fed my silverlaw brainrot) but was in a het relationship at the start. He’s a locker room fleshlight and likes getting thrown around.

Jeffery: Similar to Greg, could be a twin. He’s a thief and wears tight, tight jeans (Oh I gotta add that to my Billy ass comp) and lies. His father even snitches on him. Working on him in my brain—he’s a lot softer for the men in bed and almost exclusively gets in bed with older men. Some married.

Greg Larsen: Slutty milf cop that practically gets fucked on a playground. He’s plump and whorish. The movie he’s in is called PYTHON for gods sake. He turns coo coo for cocoa puffs in the second.

Randy: Southern belle debutante. I have a soft spot for him and his cute accent. He gets tugged around like a doll by C Thomas in it and gives off bar slut vibes👌 I need to write him oml. I need to build

Kimmy Fischer: Girl boy. Official boypussy wet cunt haver. Official “i would let my daddy fuck me” thinker. Gets fucked by crewmen and brothers. Gets fucked by dockworkers and fishermen. He’s a complete honey and pouts a lot. He needs to be held then have his guts knocked out of place by a big cock.

Chas Osborne: Itsy bitsy teeny weeny red bikini wearer. Multiple sugar daddies that don’t know about each other. He tries to be a “nice” mean girl but it just doesn’t work. He has good control over his temper for the most part. His feelings get hurt easily but he gets revenge via getting bigger men to target who hurt him and sitting back with a smile (then rewarding them by fluttering his lashes and offering up his holes for use.) He’s straight up gay💀 Boy could have a girl kissing him and he’d just pull back and ask how her dad and brother are doing. Has given teachers and judges handjobs for a better grade. His relationship with his parents hasn’t been decided on yet. Likes pink and red a lot. Would wear leopard print lingerie. Has a fuzzy rug in his bedroom and lays on it while he twirls his hair and thinks about being on tv.

Haddix: Usually paired with Scott. You’ve seen him, he’s hot. He’s got a sailor mouth. Not afraid to call people whores and 100% was a strip club goer, though he gets drained socially easily. Big ole dick like all his characters, especially girthy though.

Chris NINY: He’s a theater boy. Does plays and such. Likes art galleries and wine. He kissed his loser best friend and was rejected. He’s a soft but firm top. His slapping is weak and his wording is kind until he really gets into the mood and knows someone can take it. He’s just an over all kind and classy guy that doesn’t get enough pussy. Hair is amazing. Usually paired with Ruben, who’s a handful but so is that ass, so it’s okay.

Maz: personal fave. CONFIRMED big cock (one of the lines was “Boy, Maz has a big cock!”) Service top. mommy lover. He’s Greg’s puppy with a giant dick and balls. Cries and gets his meat and face used as a seat often but has no complaints besides the cock ring Greg likes to make him wear until he has his forehead pressed to the floor begging for mommy to let him cum inside—to let him cum at all. He’s very exasperated but always ends up doing what pleases the wifeu and not regretting it (mostly). He’s also a daddy. not nearly as often as he’s a beloved human dildo, but frequently because Greg likes getting overpowered by him and fucked brainless. He knows how to pound a cunt good and CAN make someone shout Daddy so loud the neighbors get concerned. Baseball nuts drive me nuts yada yada.

Billy Gambini: I like to make him Daniel’s twin sometimes because I like them both just accepting that they’ll have to share the blond because the cali coochie is THAT good. Does not give a shit that Johnny bullied Daniel because he also bullied Daniel (a little more kindly though.)

Expressive and purposely tries to make his voice deeper. Little bit of hair above his lip that needs to get wet with pussy juice. Coiled hair that need to get tugged on. After all he’s been through, he just wants to drive around in his car and get his dick sucked. Usually paired with Older Johnny and Scott.

Frank: I LOVE HIM. He’s a horny pervert and might just do anything for a piece of ass. Thirsts after escorts and tries to get one multiple times. He’s got a greasy curly mullet and strong accent. Would buy worn thongs and panties and steal them. He’s just really fucking horny💀Usually paired with Greg because they go at it like rabbits. Would enjoy getting stepped on by someone in heels.

Honorable mention: KK3 Ralph is a little pudgy and it made me think of him gaining weight from Johnny’s breast milk🙈 His dick gets fatter too. But in general his puffy, cute face needs to get squeezed by Johnny’s thighs. He deserves boycunt especially after what he went though lol

[ouatnextgen]

Character Profile: Gideon

Name: Gideon Maurice Gold

Other names: Gid (by his friends)

Giddy (by his friends)

Crocodile (by Hope)

Love (by Hope)

Handsome Hero (by Hope)

Son (by Rumple)

Sweetheart (by Belle)

Age: Seventeen

Height: 5’8

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Brown

Gender: Cis Male (he/him)

Face Claim: Anton Starkman (younger)

Matt Lintz (teenager)

Giles Matthey (adult)

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Species: Human

Father: Rumplestiltskin

Mother: Belle French

Sibling(s): Baelfire (paternal half-brother)

Other Family: Maurice French (maternal grandfather)

Colette French (maternal grandmother)

Peter Pan (paternal grandfather)

Fiona (paternal grandmother)

Occupation: Student at Storybrooke High (Storybrooke)

Home: Storybrooke

Favorite Color: Orange

Songs: Shovels and Dirt- The Strumbellas || Unsteady- X Ambassadors || A Sadness Runs Through Him- The Hoosiers

Powers and abilities: Basic magic, Foresight, Dream manipulation and travel

Weapons: None

Likes: Hope Swan-Jones

Birthday: March 14th, 2014

Zodiac: Pisces (Sensible, placid, easygoing, warm-hearted, dreamy, obsessive, restless, lack of self-confidence)

Personality Type: INTP (Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Prospecting)

Gideon is a flexible thinker who enjoys taking an unconventional approach to many aspects of life. He often seeks out unlikely paths, mixing willingness to experiment with personal creativity.

Description: Gideon means “feller” in Hebrew. He has his mother’s brown hair, her facial shape, and his father’s eyes.