#I Hope tumblr won’t fuck with the colors haha

[tobytost]

Luke and Ezra magically got lost somewhere in the galaxy

[leifygreeens]

"you said a while back that Elliott isn't "vanilla by any means, but that's a story for another time"....... your requests are open........ is it another time now please? 👀 xoxo @unabashedly-so"

I tried posting this once before but tumblr said “we’re gonna block this from everyone and make it impossible to find haha.” So I’m reposting it and hoping this works lmfao. Anyway, Elliott is a kinky man and we all know it. Here are a few of my own thoughts on how he navigates playtime, per Bash’s request. Thank you! <3

Warnings: Temp play, false modesty, tickling, blindfolds, improper(?) use of mirrors, pomegranates, and ropes. Enjoy! ;)

Elliott likes temperature play >:)

Would stick an ice cube in his mouth and kiss all over your skin, and would absolutely pass the fuck away if you did the same for him

He’d burn candles that turn into lotion that’s wonderfully hydrating AND smells delicious

And spend twenty minutes at LEAST rubbing it in until you’re all sleepy and content

Sometimes that shit doesn’t even lead to sex, and he takes absolutely no issue with that at all

Likes tying you up

Prefers using pretty colored rope (deep red is his favorite) to tie you up with, and sometimes he doesn’t even want to touch you afterward, he just wants to look at you

Something about the pretty intricate knots swirling over your skin does something to his brain

But he’s weak for you, so begging usually works to get him riled up, and he’ll touch you eventually

He adores it when you indulge him, though

And it also helps him in other ways, too

It’s great for when he has some nasty writer’s block

Working on something as methodical as shibari knots gets his brain rumbling and allows him to go back to his writing desk with a fresh perspective

Also fruit kink. Specifically with pomegranates

Similarly to the ice cube thought, but also not

He would squeeze a pomegranate over you and watch the juice drip onto your skin, staining it temporarily, and then he’d lick it right up, because Elliott always cleans up his messes

A few of his own shirts have been stained purple permanently by his fruit kink and his burning desire to make love to you while you’re wearing them

He won’t even unbutton them or anything, especially because he thinks false modesty is hot

Think backless dresses, poet shirts that show off too much clavicle, or god forbid SHEER clothing where he can barely see the outline of your body when you stand just right in the sun?

This man will literally pass away and it will be all your fault babe

Have I mentioned that he likes tickling?

You can fight me on this but I fucking swear he likes it

If you’re riding him, do me a favor and tickle his stomach, just beneath his belly button

You’ll make him come in like five seconds flat so definitely don’t do it unless that’s your goal

But yeah. Tickle him. He fucking loves that shit.

Also blindfolds. Blindfolds are so hot to him.

He’s fine being blindfolded, adores it, but seeing your reactions and how you’re completely blindsided by every touch is just.

HNNNNGGFGF he’ll cry

Mirror sex besties

He thinks you’re so gorgeous and will get so fucking sad if you don’t watch yourself while he has his way with you

Please indulge this man. He just wants you to see yourself from his point of view :(

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

Ngl I was kinda asking what your thoughts were on the au in a sleep deprived frenzy but I do have my own thoughts so here they are. sorry for confusion lol

I like the idea I wrote into the fic that Mabel knit a sweater with a design that can be felt for Ford. like knitting buttons into it and using raised stitches, stuff like that. I haven't yet had him wear it but I swear I'll figure out when to make him put it on.

Just... I was thinking of adding a scene in the near future where Dipper or Mabel or even both maybe begin to feel sad that Ford can't see them and doesn't know what they look like, but Ford hugging them and letting them know that he loves them regardless of his blindness, that he cares about them as who they are and not what they look like. potentially maybe just playfully describing them by what he can feel, like Mabel's sweater or Dipper's hat. just... bonding stuff.

And then... angsty stuff like Ford being taunted by Bill with the triangle using his blindness against him in cruel ways. once Weirdmageddon happens, I keep thinking about Bill torturing him by making his attacks complete surprises and leaving Ford without his assistive devices in the fearmid so he's scared and lost. just aaaaaaarggghh....

but anyway, three thoughts for you I guess lol. hope you like and I'm still wondering about what you think about the au haha.

oh my god I misunderstood you I misunderstood you I missed understood you I am going to exil tumblr and never return I’m so ashamed if someone did that to me I won’t be able to live this down there are so many things I won’t be able to live down ohhhhhhhhhh myyyyyyyyyyggggooooooooOODDDDDD—

THOUGHTS?!?!? ourgh ourgh orugh I love reading bullet points….hmmmmmmm here’s a few of mine, I think.

- ford’s relationship with braille. he must know it, right? unless you came up with another way to do that but I think he’d like to read in braille regardless. I imagine that he’d hoard books like that because he came across it so little in the multiverse that when he’d find it it was a treasure to behold. bro hoards knowledge

- the photooooo ik you’ve definitely talked about this but he’d keep it. despite how long it’s been he can still remember what it looks like. can feel the rough edges. the thing that’s bad about it is that he doesn’t know if the image is still there or fucked up or faded or Whatever, because of course he wouldn’t be able to tell. he keeps faith that it is clear, though, and when stan or someone else tells him that the photo is indeed in its pristine condition, he really appreciates it. like a lot. gives him stability to the fact that at least Something didn’t change.

- his clothes. it doesn’t matter what colors someone gives him as long as they feel the same, but yes he’d definitely appreciate a sweater he could feel. before that option was offered up to him, tho, he was chill without knowing. mabel could knit any color or pattern sweater and he wouldn’t give a shit because at least it’s a sweater. like she could put ‘world’s worst uncle’ and HE’D STILL WEAR IT PROUDLY. no shits given he actually doesn’t want anyone telling him what they look like he’d rather live in bliss thanks <3

- ford identifying people by things he’s felt….oh that. that. can’t even say anything

- ford wouldn’t have ever seen what old stan looks like. he has a deathly similar voice tho, so he can’t help but imagine stan as a younger version of himself. this helps to both assist and worsen certain situations.

- ik atla wasn’t around during his time but I’d think he’d try and learn to see Toph-Style, keyword being TRY. he of course isn’t successful, but does learn the valuable lesson of touching things to find their shapes, like rocks. he’s gotta learn how to just brave it and Touch

- and during weirdmageddon, one thing I could see bill doing is sort of returning ford’s sight sometimes? just like, little frames here or there? taunting him? making him see terrible things, what bill is doing to him and the town, and Other Things? just. returning the ability only to use it in the worst fucking possible. how the last thing ford will technically see in his life is bill, in the physical plane, hurting his family. just taking away precious things you didn’t even know you ahem y’know?

so. There’s that! not much. idk if this conflicts with any canon u got or smth of it’s what off the top of my head :) Ty for the rambling!!!!

[ringmyheart]

Omg that writing was soooo good! I love Scott kwon 😭 could I have another one with Scott? Maybe the first time his crush stayed over, like just crashing at his place but oh no, there's only one bed😏 and the absolute worst is! Crush likes to cuddle!

I’m so glad u liked my last hcs lol, & thanks for requesting again <3 I hope it turns out how u wanted, idk that much ab Scott lmao 💘 also I’m starting to get the works of tumblr, so I added a picture! There r seriously no pictures of this character tho LOL 😭

It felt fortuitous when Scott Kwon heard a string of knocks on his door that rainy afternoon, and he understood why when he opened it off its’ hinges slowly to see you. Behind you rain pelted against the floor like a percussion, and you clearly had caught the brunt of the weather that afternoon. A liquid drop slid off the bridge of your nose as you stared at him with an irritated expression (not directed to him in the slightest), your eyelashes dampened and every blink of your lids sending a raindrop falling onto your cheeks.

“Hey,” you said sheepishly, an awkward half-smile adorning your lips. “Uhmm, do you mind if I stay here for a bit? It’s raining really hard,” you gestured to behind you, as if he couldn’t tell already, “and it kind of caught me off guard. Like, I was just walking and suddenly it started raining bullets. It was crazy.” A chuckle escaped your lips.

He blinked at you slowly, your words taking a moment to register in his mind. Time had come to a standstill when he’d seen you at his door - of all people, you, and his mouth hung open like a fish. Your words finally rang though his mind and resonated, and he shook his head like it would start him up. Time resumed once again when you arched a brow at him.

“Uhh... is it okay if I stay here?” You seemed like you felt guilty for asking, and he shook his head vigorously.

“Oh, n-no!”

“No...?”

He frantically waved his hands in front of him as if clearing the air from his mistake in speech, one hand stopping the ministration to rest on the back of his head. “No, I mean I don’t mind!”

He took a step to the side to allow you to enter the doorway. “Yeah, you can totally stay.”

You smiled, wiping your shoes against the floor to try and rid them of the dirt and water soaked in the material fruitlessly. “Thanks! Uh, I’ll try to not make a mess, haha...”

It was too late for that. The moment you’d stepped inside, you’d left wet tracks behind you in the form of footprints. Before you noticed, he zoned out at your person walking into his home, hitting his head to start thinking straight.

‘Get it together, dude!’ He internally yelled at himself, ‘don’t mess this up!’

As he glared at the floor in thought, you took a glance behind you, seeing the tracks you’d left as well as the trail of water dripping from yourself and onto the floor. You threw a hand over your mouth remorsefully. “Oh my gosh, Scott - I’m so sorry!”

That sentence broke him free from his train of thoughf, and he snapped his head up to see you looking at your footprints - following your gaze and understanding. You bowed slightly in an apologetic way, throwing your hands together around your middle.

“Can I clean this up...?” You asked, mind clouded with embarrassment. He lagged for a second, before nodding nonchalantly.

“It’s just water, it’ll wash off.” He said the first thought in his mind, throwing you a smile afterwards. “It’s fine, so really don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, right...” you felt dumb, and rubbed the back of your necks with both your hands. “Uh, can I take a shower, then? So I won’t continue to mess your house up or anytning.”

He grew visibly red, and averted his eyes from yours at your sentence - and you wished you knew what was going through his head. Your question caught up with him finally, and you patiently waited until he finally answered.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, of course.” He bent over backwards placing a hand on your back - feeling how thinned out and soiled the rain left your clothes. He nudged you throughout a few twists and turns in his house until you reached a door, and he gestured for you to open it. He followed behind closely.

“Uh, this is my room. You can use my bathroom.”

You briefly scanned his room, noticing how it wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of cleanliness, but wasn’t necessarily unkempt. There was a single water bottle on the floor, and a few shirts were slung atop of the dresser. A pair of boxing gloves were hung on a nail over his bed, and it felt so him-like. After your quick examination, you went into the bathroom, saying a quick “thanks” before entering.

Hot steam billowed from under the bathroom door while you showered, and he sat on his bed in, mind in a frenzy. When you came out - what would you do? Where were you gonna sleep? Would you leave if the rain stopped?

‘Please, God, don’t let the rain stop.’

It eventually hit him that while you were gone he could make his room look nicer - cooler, even. He began to get to work on that, throwing a few shirts over his arm and preparing to shove them in his dresser, until the break of the bathroom door resounded.

His eyes naturally turned to the sound, and you peeled your head through the door, keeping the door half-closed. He seemed baffled, and straightened his back.

“Uh,” one of your hands wrapped around the side of the door, “you know how my clothes got kind of ruined by the rain?”

He nodded, waiting to see what your point was, but you left it up to him to pick up the context clues.

“... Yeah,” you said, eyes glaring holes at the shirt in his arm. He looked from it to you, and he got that familiar clouding of his mind and thoughts which made it hard to be articulate. His face matched the shade of his hair as he guffawed.

“You-“ he pointed to the shirt in his hand, “-you want to wear my shirt-?!”

You nodded.

“Wha- what?! No!” He couldn’t think properly. If you wore his shirt... how would he keep his cool?! Did you have any idea the stress you were putting him under?

You seemed rattled by his outburst, an shrunk back. “Oh, no...? Sorry, then.” Mood successfully dampened, he realized his mistake when he caught the expression on your face.

“Oh no! Not nooo, I mean-“ he shuffled in your direction, keeping an arm’s length distance with you and out stretching his hand with the shirt in it to you. Looking away as if you were radiation and looking at you would send his eyes alit, you grabbed it thankfully. You shit him a questioning look at his apprehensive nature all of a sudden. “Sorry, I didn’t mean no. Yeah, you can wear this.”

He inched away from you as the transaction happened. When you were so close to him - he couldn’t think logically. Like love took the reins of his psyche and controlled him from the inside out, his mind was befuddled. A few drops of perspiration fell from your hand onto his, and the the heat in his heart spread to his face - coloring it the same shade as the organ itself.

“Uhh, Scott?” You asked, keeping yourself still and balanced with the hand clutching the door.

He nodded, “yeah?”

“Can I have shorts, too?”

He gave you sweatpants instead, and while you changed he sat on his bed, thoughts continuing to race. Eventually you finally emerged from the door, in his clothes, and his mind was a fog - the only thoughts he has lily pads of his infatuation with you.

“Uhmm, you...” he started, trailing off incoherently. You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it down whilst looking down at it amazedly.

“This is really comfortable. I’m probably gonna steal, like, all your clothes tonight.”

He blinked, mouth agape. “Uhh...” once again it took a while to register in his mind, but he chuckled when he did. “Oh, haha...” he rubbed the back of his head, “it’s good you like them.”

You stood idly at the foot of his bed, and he looked at you quizzically, before realizing you were probably waiting for an invitation to sit. He was going to say “oh, you can sit on my bed-“, when it dawned on him; were you gonna sit on his bed?

He would offer you another, if he had one, but there was only his. One bed, two people. One liking the other-?

What, were you going to leave after a while? Or were you gonna sleep there, too?

He struggled for the words to invite you to sit, and he wasn’t sure how you’d react if he invites you to sleep with him. So, he craftfully invited you to sit and made you, without realizing it, make the decision.

“Wanna sit on my bed - and watch a movie?” He asked, presenting you with two options: you either took it as you watched a movie and then left, or you saw it as him inviting you onto his bed and then offering a movie along with it.

He would have to wait and see how you perceived it, and leaned towards the latter option.

You blinked at him before grinning. “Yeah, I’d love to. Thanks!” The bed dipped beneath your weight as you sat on it, getting comfortable and leaning against the headboard just besides him. He couldn’t tell if he was happy or despaired at the lack of width his bed had.

“Did you have a movie in mind?” You asked, looking up at him. Your faces were so close, he could feel the beat radiating from it. He leaned back a little to try and clear his mind.

“Uhh, no.” He hands you a remote. “You can decide. Guest’s honor.”

You grabbed the remote as if he’d bestowed upon you a great present. “I’m flattered.”

You flicked mindlessly through television channels until you suddenly stoped, clearly excited about whatever was playing. “Oh - I love this!” You exclaimed, setting the remote down between the both of you. If you loved it, surely he would, too. This movie was an invitation to your likes and interests, and he was determined to watch intently.

His eyes flitted from you to the TV with an interested expression, but he immediately backtracked when he saw the scene playing.

Those people were-

“-kissing! They’re kissing?!” He yelled, shocked. You inquisitively looked up at him.

“Yeah? What, are you not allowed to watch? Pfft!” You jestered, and he stammered.

He’d seen movies with much worse, where people went much further. Fuck, in real life he’d seen people get brutally beaten up. But when he was with you, he withdrew from reality and entered his own personal heaven; and watching something so suggestive, with you right besides him?!

You were the absolute worst, doing this to his weak heart...!

Seeing two people be in love while the person he wa in love with was besides him?! He nearly combusted into a million pieces, and he swiftly changed the channel.

“We can’t watch this!” He exclaimed like it was something forbidden, and you chuckled with a shrug.

“... Okay. I’m sorry my movie choices are so bad then, you pick something. Yeesh.” You joked, and he did the same back.

He huffed. “Yeah, I will.”

There were remnants of a smile still glued to your lips, and that was his tell that you and him were still merely poking fun with the other.

Soon another show was displayed on the TV, and he forged himself to be engrossed in it. Otherwise, he’d only focus on you, and he’d lose his lucidity again.

Like the whistle of a train hooting, steam arised from Scott’s ears when, out of nowhere, your head rested on his bicep. He went rigid, as stiff as a robot, and his teeth chattered as he turned to you.

You were comfortably laying on him, and casually, like this was no big deal. And truthfully, it wasn’t. But it felt like the stars aligned against him in that moment. He could feel you adjust and readjust to get comfortable against him, and his heart hammered against his ribcage so violently there was no way you didn’t hear it. And if you hadn’t, you certainly would.

His thoughts raced so quickly until they tripped over eachother. You were close - too close. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t focus - there was only the awareness of the feeling of you and him. He jerked himself to the side, and shoved you off of him to your side of the bed, face beet red. Would his rapid heartbeat be the tell to his true feelings?

What would you say?

Would you know? Would you somehow immediately know, like a clairvoyant?

He looked down at your peaceful self against him. Did you... did you know already?

He felt overstimulated and overwhelmed.

When you’re too close to him, he can’t think clearly. He couldn’t think. It was the absolute worst, he couldn’t be normal when you were around. But he needed to think...!

“No, don’t get too close-!” He was dizzy, his heartbeat echoing in his skull. When he looked back at you, he saw the hurt expression you had - and was consumed with guilt.

“Oh, sorry...” you shuffled further to your side of the bed, eyes downcast. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sorry.”

“Ah!” His hands hovered over you concernedly. ‘What have I dooooneee?!’

“N-no, it’s okay!” He said, and you looked at him confused.

“It’s... okay?”

He paused, lips forming an uncertain line, heart trying to rip through his rib cage and where they belonged - in your hands. “Yeah... yeah. It’s okay. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Can I lay on you again, then...?” Seeing the glimmer return to your eyes made him disregard his previous concerns, and he scooted closer to you this time.

“Yeah, you can. Y-you can get close.”

You offered a small smile, and leant back on him again, this time leaning your full weight onto him and curling into a small ball. “Thanks.”

You moved a lot until you found a comfortable position. “... Are you comfortable?”

“Uhh...”

“Try moving your hand up for a sec.” You said, and he followed it like an instruction, lifting his hand. You furthered yourself into his midsection, resting your head around his ribs - right where his heart was confined. He felt the weight of your head rest against him, and the heaviness was extremely comforting - but there was no clarity in his mind.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah! This is totally okay!” He bellowed awkwardly, and you hummed.

“You can move your hand back down, now.”

With a concerningly red face, he rested his hand back down. Your body obstructed the path to his side, and it ended up resting on where you curled up. Whatshouldhedowhatshouldhedowhatshouldhedo-

“Hey, Scott?” You asked calmly, a tired lilt in your voice. Were you going to sleep?

On him?!

“Yeah...?”

He felt extremely distressed, but when he shifted his eyes to your face, his countenance offense. Your eyes were closed finally, and you seemed content - and his mind felt at peace. Maybe, this wasn’t too bad...

Meanwhile, you began to fall asleep, nearly forgetting your question as your consciousness began to slip.

Ba-thump,

Ba-thump,

Ba-thump

“Your heartbeat... it’s really fast. Well, it started to slow dow- oh, it’s picking up again. Like, really quickly...” you trailed off into sleep, a hum leaving you last until you were out like a rock.

Meanwhile, his mouth was wide in a squiggly, concerned line - what he hoped you somehow wouldn’t notice the very thing you pointed out. He felt his heart swell, in a good way, at the sight of you - and the last tone of your voice, and he sighed.

He took back what he said, he was right; you were the absolute worst.

(Unedited)

[wherethehoesat]

OSAMU WAITER DRABBLE FLEECE

HAHA YES OFC U HOE

go choke on this ily bby <3

the idea came from this tumblr post;

warning(s); goes from wholesome to whoresome that’s really all I can say

you should probably save the bonus you’ve received. but it’s been so long since you’ve gotten this much money and a clear schedule at the same time. you know you deserve it after weeks of being deprived from sleep, balancing college and your part-time job.

so you decide to go to your favorite restaurant, eyes gleaming with joy as you step closer to it’s glass doors, open wide and waiting for you to enter. it never changed in the three weeks you’ve been gone. the sound of people making small talk and the scent of something so good cooking in the distance.

you walk towards your favorite spot, and thankfully enough, it’s not occupied by anybody. the lights shine inside the little place and your fingers trace the table as you sat on your seat. your favorite spot was right beside the glass walls, a place where you can watch the passing cars and people as they go by your line of vision.

“Look who finally showed up!” you turn to see a familiar face, their features twisted into something in between a smile and a smirk.

“How’s the piss-head doing?” you grin, smiling wider when the the waiter pouts at the nickname. 

Miya Atsumu, one of the waiter working for your favorite restaurant. He’s become your friend and punch bag ever since he’s introduced himself to you. You used to come here regularly so it wasn’t a surprise you’ve come to befriend the staff. Sadly, contrary to popular belief, having friends working at your favorite restaurant does not give you a discount. 

The fucker even asks for a tip, grumbling when you give him none and complaining it was too small when you give him some.

“I was going to take your order but nevermind.” he huffs. You role your eyes at his theatrics.

“Careful there, ‘Tsumu. You don’t want me complaining to the manager do you?” you bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. He gasps, clutching his shirt a the part right over his heart.

“You wouldn’t do something so cruel.”

“Do your job well and I won’t.”

“What do you want me to do?” he whines, then he straightens his relaxed posture and flashes you the weirdest, fakest smile you’ve ever seen, “Welcome to our restaurant miss, what would you like to order?” he repeats in a jolly voice and you sputter in laughter.

“Oh my god ‘Tsumu, cut it off, pfft-” he joins you and you both laugh. You stop when you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You wipe them away with your finger, smiling at him when something-- or rather, someone-- catches your vision.

A head full of gray hair (dyed obviously) and the softest small smile you’ve seen, so opposite from the goofy grin Atsumu gave you. What’s shocking is, he looks exactly like the blonde in front of you, the only difference was their manner and the color of their eyes. While Atsumu’s was dark brown, like a jar of honey sitting in the shadows, his eyes were bluish-gray, like the sky before the first drop of rain.

You stare at the other guy who was patiently waiting for the customer’s orders, “Holy hell ‘Tsumu, who is that guy? He sorta looks like you but hotter.”

On the other table, the gray-haired male hears your words and stifles a laugh. “Facts,” he mutters, glancing at you for a split second, smiling at the sight of your face as you stared at Atsumu.

Atsumu scoffs, “Okay, first of all, that was so insulting. Second of all, he’s my twin, the onigiri addicted bastard talked about. Third of all, the most important fact, he is not hotter than me.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him, about to throw an insulting remark when an idea enters your head. Your expression of disbelief changes into a pleading one, and you stare at Atsumu.  “I want my usual please.” you say and he looks at you questioningly, “And can your twin be the one to give me my order when it’s ready?” you give him the best of your puppy eyes.

But because of your earlier statement about his twin being the better looking one among the two of them, his face only scrunches up in disgust, “Ew, no.” 

He scurries before you could throw the napkin holder at his stupid face.

You slump in your seat, too busy sulking in despair that you don’t feel or see the pair of blue gray eyes gazing at you, having heard everything you just said.

 _______________________________________________

“Who was that girl ‘Tsumu?” Osamu Miya, the gray-headed guy you’ve been ogling, asked his twin with an air of nonchalance to cover up his curiosity.

“She’s the supposed-to-be-regular we were talking about. She hasn’t been here in three weeks though. Busy with her studies, I guess.” Suna Rintarou, another one of the waiters, answers for Atsumu. Seeing as the blonde was busy muttering something along the lines of ‘I’m more handsome’ and ‘damn you y/n’.  Suna sighs, “I always say I hate it when she goes by here but damn, those three weeks were terrible. Nobody could shut Atsumu up.” 

You could shut his twin’s mouth? Now he was definitely interested.

“Order for table number X.” a voice rings across the kitchen where they waited. He sees Atsumu reach for the tray but before the blonde could get it, Osamu was there, receiving the platter with your food on it.

“I’ll give it to her, she wants me to anyways.” he says, flashing a smirk at his agitated twin.  “I mean, who would want you to serve them ‘Tsumu? When they have the hotter twin right here?”

 The door slams shut before Atsumu could tackle his twin.

 _______________________________________________

“Here’s your order miss.” You look up in confusion, removing your hands from your face so you could look at who was talking because Atsumu would never sound that polite.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you face him, his lips tilted slightly to a smile, his hand extended as he put down the tray with your food on it. “Careful, the plate is hot too.” he says.

“Too?” you look up at him, confused.

He releases a little laugh that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He let one palm rest on your shoulder and made a sizzling noise.

You throw your head back, laughing, the sound filling his ears like a melody he wanted to play in repeat. “That- that was smooth,” you smile, “I’m y/n.”

“Miya Osamu but you can call me ‘Samu. Whatever ‘Tsumu told you about me, rest assured, they’re all lies.” He replies with that same small smile

“Also, tuna mayo onigiris?” his smile widens as he stares at what you’ve ordered. “Nice food choices, you have taste.”

You decide that a little flirting wouldn’t hurt, “Of course I have taste. I picked you over your twin didn’t I?” you say. You almost breathe out in relief when he smirks, thanking god for not letting you fuck up and having you say the right thing.

“Well, when you say it like that...” he trails off, smiling as you let out a little laugh which he thought was so adorable.

“God, this is such a relief from your twin’s insults.” you sigh, staring at the grey-head dreamily. 

“I don’t know why he even insults you. I told him before that if he wants a girl, he has to compliment them,” he flicks a mischievous glance at you, “Tell them they’re hot and that they have excellent food choices.”

You try hard to squash the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “Ah, is that how you get a girl ‘Samu?” you ask him.

“From what I see, it seems to be working.” There’s a hopeful gleam in his eyes and you want to flick his head for even doubting himself. Because his words worked wonders, hell, they had your heart beating twice as fast as it should.

“Hmm, I guess it is.” you say smiling. You’ve been doing that a lot in his presence, smiling for no reason at all. Not that you’re complaining, really.

Another waiter passes by, snapping you both out of your flirtatious exchanges. “Suna!” you wave at him, cheeks burning when you realize you didn’t even notice him until he had pulled Osamu away from you. You were too wrapped up in your conversation with Atsumu’s twin.

The raven-haired waiter acknowledges you with a flick of his green eyes, turning to whisper something in Osamu’s ears.

“The manager’s looking for you.” Suna hisses, nearly making Osamu flinch, “I get that you like her and she likes you and you both wanna flirt but you have work dumbass.” With that, Suna walks away but not before shooting another glare towards Osamu.

He feels a pang of disappointment as he looks back at you, “Tip?” he asks, almost apologetically, not wanting to stop talking to you.

You shoot him a smile, shaking off the twinges of sadness as he starts to walk away backwards, still waiting for your response, “Go back to work ‘Samu, I wouldn’t want to get you fired.” you tell him and he hurries towards the doors leading to the kitchen, shoulders slightly drooping.

You were left there, staring at his back until he vanished behind the doors. 

All good things come to an end, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you couldn’t continue what you both started.

______________________________________________

He was so caught up his own work, he didn’t even had a chance to sneak a glance at you while you were eating. He returned to where you were, feeling dejected when all that was left was a plate and a few dollar bills tucked in the corner to pay for your meal.

Something caught his vision at the last moment, a tissue folded along with the bills with words written in ink,

I’m broke so no tip Hopefully this makes up for it? 09XX-XXXX-XXX

He smiled, tucking the little gift you left for him in his pocket. Make up for not giving him a tip? Ha, this was worth more than any amount you could’ve given him.

_______________________________________________

A few months later... “Mm, ‘Samu- s’good-” you choke out, tears of pain and pleasure running down your face as you grip the headboard, knuckles white from your tight hold. Your knees are weak, Osamu’s hands firmly planted on your waist the only thing keeping your knees giving out entirely.

His breath is heavy, the air hot, room filled with your moans and his groans and the sound of skin slapping against each other. “Fuck, baby, y-you’re so fucking tight- ah-” he growls into your ear, pounding mercilessly into your dripping cunt, your walls clenching oh so deliciously around his cock.

“‘m gonna cum ‘Samu- i’m cumming, i’m cumming,” you couldn’t produce a coherent sentence, mind unoccupied by anything that isn’t a thought of how good he’s fucking you. 

He mumbles sweet praises into your ear, groaning when he feels you tighten around him. His brutal pace never falters, even speeding up to chase his high.

 “that’s it pretty baby, cum for me,” he breathes, voice breaking as he feels your cunt clenches around his dick as you spill your cum all over him. he does the same, shooting a string of white hot liquid into your pussy and you scream in pleasure as he cums inside of you.

He releases a shuddering breath as he pulls out, letting you slump on the bed from your orgasm. You both lay on the mattress, trying hard to catch your breath and he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your waist, planting soft kisses on your face.

“Holy shit. We just-” you sputter, clutching his arm and burying your face on his chest. He chuckles, laughter reverberating across the room and he plants another gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, we just did that.” he says, saying it like it was the most natural phenomenon in the world.

“‘Samu!” you whine, trying to push him away. “You’re not helping. We just did it oh my god.” you gasp, incredulous.

He rolls his eyes, smiling at how cute you were, flustered after what just happened, “So what if we just did it? You better get used to it, love.”

One day, he was going to drive you insane. 

You guessed you better get used to that too.

[mthofferings2020]

HogwartsToAlexandria

See HogwartsToAlexandria ’s existing works here.

Preferred contact methods: Discord: Marie | HogwartsToAlexandria#9558 Tumblr: HogwartsToAlexandria

Preferred organizations: - Disability Rights Education & Defense Fund - Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) - NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund - Planned Parenthood - Rainbow Railroad (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: For Gen to Teen Content, I enjoy writing about: Canon divergent fics that avoid all or key angsty elements (canonical MCDs included), Complete AUs. Fluff, Family and Domestic vibes, Found Family and Strong Friendships, Adoptions, Pregnancy, Surrogacy, Mpreg, Trans Male Pregnancy, Any Stage of a child-oriented prospect, Temporary De-Aging. Also yes to platonic pairs parenting together!! Proposals, Weddings, Honeymoons, First Time Everything, Moving in Together, Roommates. Casual intimacy. Sharing clothes. Platonic caretaking. Feeding/Cooking for others. Love languages. Teaching each other things. Bonding over shared interests. Identity headcanons: all of them, whether gender, or sexuality. Disability representation and neurodiversity representation. Hurt/Comfort: I could get as serious or silly as you want as long as the focus stays on the comfort/happy or hopeful/meaningful ending. (Meaning I will absolutely write about serious diseases and even terminal illnesses if we can find a silver lining of some sort for our ship.) For Mature and Explicit Content of a sexual nature I enjoy A Lot Of Things but have a small list 😁: Size differences, Age differences, Strength differences, Biting, Hickeys, Kissing, Touching Anywhere, Hair-pulling, Hair-petting, Licking, Honor bondage, Predicament bondage, Wall sex, Non-bed sex but also Bed sex haha, Bath sex, Oral sex, Face-sitting, Face-Fucking, Awkward but fun sex, First Time First Time trying a new position or kink. Kink Negotiations, Establishing kink dynamics, BDSM whether formal or not, Kneeling, Presenting, Collars as wedding rings, Contracts, Service Kink, Glassy-eyed subs, Caring Doms, Verbal Humiliation and Physical Degradation, Cuckolding, Rough Sex, Gentle Aftercare, Watersports, Spitting, Snowballing, Rimming, Felching, Fingering (mouth, vaginal or anal is all fine), Breathplay (from strangling to full-on latex suits, sheets, bags), Pain play (from spanking to whipping and everything in between as long as it doesn't break skin).... Age play: from Daddy/Mommy kink to full on Cg/l (Sexual Age Play/Infantilism is also okay if all negotiations are made in Adult headspace).

Will not create works that contain: 1st and 2nd Person POV. Serious shovel talks and family/friends reacting badly to ship's relationship. Bullying. Issuefic: fic that focuses on issues relating to bigotry/prejudice. On-screen abuse whether verbal, physical or sexual. (Brief scenes of canonically shitty parents are okay.) Hopeless Endings. Cheating. Excessive jealousy or possessiveness. Gaslighting. Non-kinky indifference/humiliation. Total erasure or villification of canon partners, best friends parents/parental figures, Character or Ship bashing, Team Cap/Iron Man discourse, POC Characters in the therapist or matchmaker friend trope. Head/Eye trauma. Graphic depictions of open wounds. Blood play (Except for Vampire AUs). Scats, vomit, vore. Micro-Macro, Sex under Any influence (sex pollen, alcohol...), Misgendering, Non-gender comforming terms for trans characters if not IC, Pushiness about sex, Gender and race kink. Non-con. Bad BDSM practices (RACK ok, but I won't write about like, someone ignoring safewords for example.) Top/Bottom discourse.

  -- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1256

Will create works for the following relationships: Phil Coulson/Tony Stark - MCU JARVIS/Tony Stark - MCU Happy Hogan/Tony Stark - MCU Stephen Strange/Wong - MCU Tony Stark/Sam Wilson - MCU Ned Leeds/Peter Parker - MCU James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark - MCU Peter Parker/Tony Stark/Stephen Strange - MCU James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Steve Rogers - MCU Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark - MCU

Work Description: Heya! So, as the ships I listed may hint at, I'm going for a rare pairs auction this year. I would absolutely love to write something for any of these pairings and probably more rare pairs that didn't make the 10, so if yours isn't there do reach out in the MTH server or in DMs to ask , chances are I also love it haha. I'm a big fan of fluff as my deets showed, and smut if also my happy place so if that's you too, we'll be well-matched. I would also love it if you shared my interest in fics that focus on marginalized identities and bodies, whether that's in term of gender, sexuality, skin color and culture or disability and neurodiversity or even size. I'm offering a 1k minimum fic, 5k maximum (if bids end up at 25$ and upwards). I will not be able to start working on it before January, but we can talk about it at length before that and you can tell me all the ways you want our faves to be happy! Feel free to look through my works and pick things you like if you'd like something similar in vibe or if you're short on prompts! As for your involvement once I start writing, if you'd like to cheer me on that'd be fun too but it's not a requirement at all. We'll play it by ear!

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 18 (12 AM ET) to October 24 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (40/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I’ve written a lot of words - it’s actually a ridiculous amount - but some stories worm their way into your heart. This one definitely goes in the top five of that for me. I don’t know if it’s because this was the first story I managed to write after getting some pretty harsh words sent my way or if it was because this story was something I wrote throughout my pregnancy. Did you guys notice how much food was involved? That’s why. Haha. Nevertheless, this is a special one. Thanks for coming along for the ride ⚾️

Thanks to you @resident-of-storybrooke​ for all of her hard work with me on this one​! I’ve kept this epilogue a secret from you as your gift for being a spectacular human being, so I hope you enjoy it ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current 

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-/-

“What are you wearing today?” Ruby asks her over the speaker on her phone.

Emma hums in response as she thumbs through the clothes in her closet, passing by sweater after sweater that Killian has organized by color despite her consistently messing up his organizational system for their closet. Miraculously, it always gets fixed, heels going on the shelf and white sweater moving to its section instead of chilling with the red jackets on the other side of the room. She didn’t need a closet this big, not really, but if this is what came attached to the master bedroom in their brownstone, Emma is certainly going to fill it up with clothes and boots and far too many hats.

She’s simply not going to organize them the way that her husband wants her to.

“I’m not sure yet,” Emma tells Ruby while running her hand runs over a black turtleneck sweater that might look good with her plaid skirt and the thigh-high boots that she owns three pairs of now since she wears them so often. It’s not a problem no matter how much Killian says it is as he places them on the shelf. “It’s cold outside, but it’s going to be sunny. Maybe my plaid skirt with the black sweater. What are you wearing?”

“Jeans and a sweater, but it’s not my big day.”

“It’s not my big day either.”

Ruby sighs, and Emma can imagine the exasperated look on her face and the way that Graham is likely sitting on the bed behind her reminding her to be gentle or something similar. He should know better after so many years with Ruby – she’s not gentle when she’s in a teasing mood, and she’s definitely in a teasing mood.

“It is your big day,” Ruby corrects. “Your husband could be retiring from baseball today. That’s a huge fucking deal.”

Emotion lodges itself in Emma’s throat, and if she could swallow it down and get rid of it for the day, she would. Quickly, she turns around to look and make sure Killian isn’t standing in the closet or the bedroom. He’s not, at least that she knows. He could be hiding in that blind spot near the bathroom. He’s got weirdly quiet footsteps, and she can very rarely hear when he’s moving in this house.

“Killian wants to think about it as any other game. He’s told me approximately five hundred times that this isn’t a big deal.”

“And you believe him?”

“Hell no,” Emma scoffs as she unties her robe and hangs it on a hook before pulling the plaid skirt off of its hanger and slipping into it as most as she can without having someone tug the last little bit. It’s got this stupid hook that never does quite right. “He hasn’t slept in days. Like, actual days. I wake up in the middle of the night to find him reading or running his fingers over me or something. Killian doesn’t want to admit it, but baseball is in his bones. He’s never going to be able to fully leave it behind. He just…they’re down three games to none in the ALCS and even if they win tonight, they could lose tomorrow. I don’t – I want him to win tonight, but I think if that happens, he’ll just keep holding onto the hope that it’s not over yet.”

“It’s never over until it’s over.”

“You sound like Killian.”

“I’ve spent a hell of a lot of time with him in the past six years. It was bound to happen at some point.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who was supposed to start picking up his mannerisms, not you.”

“We’re sister wives, baby.”

“Um, no,” Emma laughs as she clasps her bra together behind her back, “we are not sister wives. I love you, but that’s not true.”

“Ah whatever.” Ruby scoffs. “Is the jersey going to go over that sweater well?”

“Yep.”

“The plaid may not mix with the stripes.”

Emma clicks her tongue, a protest on her lips, but then there’s a high-pitched squeal followed by small legs lacking pants running into the closet. It’s not like she can judge. She doesn’t have a shirt on.

“Mommy,” Jace squeals, still giggling and running toward her until he’s slamming right into her calves and wrapping his fingers around her legs while his dark mop of hair brushes up against her thigh. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.” “What, Jace?” she questions with a small laugh before scooping him up and resting him on her hip. She swears that he gets bigger every single day, and it kind of freaks her out. Then again, most things about being a mom to a two-year-old kid are terrifying. But also weirdly rewarding. She’s been reassured by Mary Margaret, Elsa, Ariel, and Anna that it’s normal, but she’s not sure she believes that quite yet. “What’s got you running in here out of breath?”

“Daddy funny,” Jace giggles, and like he was summoned by the laugh (he probably was), Killian walks into the closet with a small smile on his face and the slightest shake of his head.

Handsome as ever.

“Daddy is funny,” Emma agrees, leaning down to press her lips against Jace’s forehead, “but we can’t tell him because his ego might get bigger and then you and I won’t have any room in the house.”

“Ems,” Ruby interjects, “I’m going to let you go so that you can continue to tell lies about Killian being funny.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. I’m wearing the plaid skirt.”

“It’s not going to go with the stripes,” Ruby says before the line goes dead.

“You’re hysterical, love,” Killian grumbles, walking toward her and placing his hands on her waist. They’re warm and rough, callouses that she’s grown used to scratching up against her skin, and he tugs her zipper up without her asking. He’s going to have to undo it when she puts her sweater on, but it’s sweet that he realized she needed a bit of help. “Where’s your shirt?”

“Where are our son’s pants?”

He arches a brow before waggling them both across his forehead, a smirk stretching across his lips. “Touché, darling. Touché. Jace seemed fit to not stop squirming around so that I could tug his jeans up.”

Jace smiles at her, a toothy grin, and it’s almost not fair how much he looks like Killian. Genetics are not supposed to work this way. There is supposed to be some of her in him. She didn’t carry him in her body for nine plus months for him to not at all be like her.

There’s supposed to be some kind of payback or reward or something.

(Unconditional love or whatever, probably.)

“Baby, did you not let Daddy put on your pants?”

“Nope.”

“Would you let me put on your pants?”

“Nope.”

Emma rolls her eyes and looks up at Killian who simply shrugs his shoulders. “Well, I guess you won’t wear any pants, and I won’t wear a shirt. Daddy will have to go without shoes.”

Killian shrugs. “All in all, I think I’ve gotten the good deal here.”

“You have,” she promises, pressing up on her toes to quickly brush her lips over Killian’s. He needs to leave soon to go to what may be his final practice (she swears that she’s not thinking about it too much), but they were all going to ride over to the stadium together. “I’ll get him dressed, okay? You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Swan, no. You’ve still got to get ready. I’m perfectly capable of dressing him.”

“His lack of pants suggests otherwise.”

Killian opens his mouth to say something, but then his lips are pressing together and he’s reaching forward to run his fingers over Jace’s stomach while his other hand comes to rest on her ass, squeezing enough that she jumps.

“I’ll dress him,” he continues. “We’ve got to have a go at the jeans again. He might want the light wash instead of the dark. The kid is particular.”

“Just like you,” Emma sighs before handing Jace off to Killian. “I’ve only got to curl my hair and then finish getting dressed, okay? It shouldn’t take me more than thirty minutes, and then we can go.”

“There’s no rush, my love. Take your time.”

Killian walks out of the closet talking to Jace, murmuring little nothings that Emma can’t make out but that she’s sure are sweet and funny and probably ridiculous. It makes her heart swell, which isn’t good for how emotional she is today. She told herself that she wouldn’t be sad, that she would believe Killian’s lies about today not being a big deal, but Killian is a liar. Anyone that says today isn’t a big deal is a liar.

She’s a liar.

And she’s standing in the middle of her closet holding her hand against the chain around her neck staring at shelf after shelf of Yankees t-shirts and sweatpants and uniforms. This sport and this team are so intertwined with their lives and nearly everything that they do, and Emma’s not sure how she’s going to function commentating on games where Killian isn’t playing. When she got the promotion, she knew this would happen eventually. It was at the back of her mind, and it was supposed to stay there.

This wasn’t supposed to come so soon.

Killian is only thirty-three, and Emma always thought that they’d have more time.

Dammit. Why is she letting herself spiral like this when she’s supposed to be curling her hair and putting this sweater on and not freaking out?

Taking a deep breath, Emma grabs the black sweater, a pair of socks, and her boots before tugging them all on, taking each task one at a time while she gets ready. It’s fine. It’s simply another day and another baseball game. There’s nothing happening today that’s any different. They’re going to go to the stadium, drop Jace off with Ariel, Killian will go to practice, and Emma will go up to the booth to review her notes and do the pre-game show. Then the game will begin.

It’s all normal and just what they’ve been doing for almost every home game since Jace’s birth.

(Except it’s not normal.)

(She’s going to act like it is.)

When they get to the stadium an hour later, Emma and Jace both fully dressed despite the complications, the hallways are full of people – publicists, players, family members, coaches, vendors. Anyone Emma can think of is flooding the walkways, most of them waving hello and giving Jace high fives that Emma knows Killian will sanitize later simply because he’s a germ freak now, and there’s a particular look in each of their eyes, a tightness in all of the smiles, that make it especially hard for Emma to pretend that today is a normal day.

“Jace Jones,” Ariel yells out when she comes into view. “What’s up, my man?”

“Ariel,” he screeches out, squirming in Killian’s arms until Killian puts him on the ground and he runs toward Ariel. He’s a blur of pinstripes and the number twenty-nine running in a miniature version of Killian’s jersey. Emma’s got her version hidden away in her purse.

“I was always jealous of other guys who got this.”

Emma twists from where she’s standing to look over at Killian as he softly smiles at Ariel and Jace, the crinkles around his eyes much more prominent than they’ve ever been. “What?”

He nods his head before turning to face her as well. Killian puts his hands on her hips, tugging her a little bit closer to him, and she lazily slings her arms around his neck so that she can smile up at him and his stupid blue eyes. Emma talks for a living. She should be able to find a better way to describe how much she loves Killian’s eyes, but that’s not really in the job card for baseball commentators.

Killian’s lips tick up to the right, the crinkles showing up some more, and he can’t seem to decide between looking at her or Jace. “That,” Killian repeats, nodding at Jace. “I used to be damn jealous of all of the guys who got to have their kids watch them play and got to wear their numbers on their backs. He’s not…fuck, Emma. He’s not going to remember that I did this, that I got to be this really cool guy who lived out my dreams and brought joy to a lot of people, and it’s so idiotic – ”

“Hey, hey, no,” she whispers as her hand keeps running through the hair at the nape of his neck and her own eyes fill with water, “don’t go there, twenty-nine. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Jace may not remember seeing you play professional baseball, but he’s going to know that you did. And he’s going to have a million other memories that are going to be so much cooler than this, yeah? Today isn’t an ending, babe. It’s a new beginning.”

Killian sniffles, his jaw still tense, but it softens a little bit when he dips his head down to hers and starts running his lips across Emma’s jaw and down her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that light her entire body on fire and make her cant her hips up into his until Killian has her pressed into a concrete wall. It’s not unusual for them to find a spot to make out in this stadium, not at all, but it’s unusual for them to be this open about it. Their relationship has been a public one without their permission, and they try to keep it as quiet as possible.

Right now, Emma doesn’t care.

Not at all.

Until there’s a whistle and Ariel speaking. “I know you guys are probably going to try for another one of these munchkins during the infamous baseball mating season, but here is really not the place to do it.”

Killian chuckles against Emma’s jaw, his scruff brushing into her skin while his smile is tattooed there, and of all of the things Emma is going to miss, she thinks this might be at the top of the list. She guesses that they’ll simply have to do it at home…or Killian can come visit her at work. They have their options.

“Daddy kisses Mommy a lot,” Jace explains to Ariel in his broken speech, which only makes Killian snicker into her skin even more before he pulls back.

“I bet I can kiss you more than I kiss Mommy,” Killian challenges as he swipes Jace out of Ariel’s arms and peppers kisses across his face and down his arms.

Emma’s heart is never going to function normally again, and their insurance is not going to cover this.

“You guys are ridiculously cute,” Ariel sighs before walking up to Emma and wrapping her up in a hug so that she can whisper in her ear. “It’s all clear for you to come down after the game. Will and Eric are under strict instructions to keep him in the dugout instead of letting him go back to get his PT and hide out away from the field.”

“Thank you, A. You’re the best.”

“Yo, Professor Jones,” Will calls out from down the corridor, and everyone’s eyes glance over toward him. “I know you’ve got that fancy college degree now and could actually be a professor, but you’ve still got to show up to practice.”

“I’m right outside the door to the clubhouse, Scarlet,” Killian yells back.

“Outside isn’t inside, man. I bet Jace knows that, and he’s only two.”

“Give me three minutes, and I’ll be there.”

“Al is going to have your head.”

“He can have it.”

“My boy,” Killian sighs as he brushes Jace’s hair off of his forehead, “will you be good for Ariel so that Mommy and Daddy can go to work?”

“Nope.”

That is undeniably the word of the day.

Sending Killian off to practice and the game is a little bit more difficult than usual. The words are lengthier, the hugs longer and tighter, and the final “good luck” and “I love you” weigh heavier on Emma’s mind as she walks away from the clubhouse and to the elevators so that she can go and do her job.

It’s a hard day, but it is simply a day.

And a ballgame.

-/-

Before Killian’s first pitch, he looks up to her in the commentator’s booth and taps his fist right over his heart.

She does the same thing back before holding her hand to the ring that still rests against her sternum.

“You’ve got this, twenty-nine,” she whispers, not caring that the microphones are going to pick it up.

-/-

The Yankees lose, 3-2, and the loss definitely stings. The season is over, but Killian’s career is also finished, the bookend closing on the mound and his time there.

A beginning, she told him. It’s an ending but also a beginning of him not spending half of the year with a crazy schedule. Her schedule is crazy too, but at least she won’t be traveling with the team anymore.

It’s a new beginning for her too.

Chants of Killian’s name ring out around the stadium, a melody that sends chills down Emma’s spine, and Killian walks around the bases waving. He looks like he both loves and hates it, and Emma chuckles as she waits in the dugout, hidden away from him until he steps back on the mound one final time.

The man she loves is so intertwined with this game and this field, but she knows he’s also so much more than any of this.

He’s everything.

“You ready to go support Daddy, kid?” Emma asks Jace as his little blue eyes look around at all of the noise. He’s not used to this.

“Yes,” he says, and Emma sighs in relief at finally getting that word out of him.

It’s not a long walk, not at all, but it feels that way as she passes by all of Killian’s teammates, past and present, to get to him. When he sees the two of them, he immediately moves toward them. His strides are long, almost quick enough to be a run, and Killian wraps his arms around them so tightly that Jace protests and tries to move. He can’t, though, especially when Killian slams his lips into hers and kisses her deeply enough that every thought that Emma had disappears into the continuing chant of the crowds.

Killian. Killian. Killian.

It’s overwhelming but in the best way, and every thought that Killian has about it is felt in the kiss that leaves her breathless and with barely working limbs.

Falling in love with Killian was like this, overwhelming, unexpected, terrifying, and thrilling all at once, and she’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

“Easy tiger,” Emma laughs when Killian finally pulls back, “we’ve got company.”

“Are we talking the kid we just squashed or all of these people?”

“I’m talking Jeff and the camera that’s on our face. I’m supposed to interview you right now.”

The smile that breaks out on his face is beatific, and he kisses her again. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Killian grabs onto Jace and pulls him into his arms. “You too, kid. You ready to watch Mommy work? She’s really good at this even if it isn’t her job anymore.”

“She play baseball?”

“Something like that, lad.”

Emma barely remembers the questions that she asks Killian. It’s a blur of laughter and funny questions and maybe one or two actual questions about baseball. It all gets interrupted by Jace’s talking, most of it tired babbling, and then Liam, Elsa, and the rest of Killian’s family coming out onto the field. The stands don’t empty out, the constant buzz of the stadium staying around, but Emma doesn’t bother looking around up there when she’s got so much going on down here.

It’s absolutely everything.

Even more so when Killian takes Jace’s hand and walks him around the bases, the two of them laughing together in the way that they always do whenever they’re together, and Emma is most definitely scouring the internet for those pictures tonight.

But far too soon, the moment is over, reality coming back to everyone, and Killian has to go inside to do his press conference just like so many of his teammates. There are still articles to be written and deadlines to be met, and the world doesn’t resolve around them.

Emma’s world revolves around the two guys wearing the number twenty-nine.

She gets Jace back from Killian when they go inside, and the two of them hide out in the corner of the back of the press room as Killian settles down behind the table and all of the journalists and photographers sit in their seats. It starts mostly with the game, Killian’s stats as well as his team’s. It’s standard, just like any other post-game press.

Until it isn’t.

“You threw a one-hundred-and-one mile per hour pitch out there eighty pitches in. And it was accurate. Why are you hanging up your glove when you have some good years left?”

Emma flinches at the question, but it’s one she knew he would get. It was pretty much inevitable.

Killian’s hand reaches up to rub over his eyes, the blue sparkling against the red rims from where he’s cried and tried to hide out. “Look,” Killian starts while staring down at the baseball cap in front of him, signatures from every single teammate marking it up, “I get that I’m only thirty-three. That’s not old in life, but on occasion, it’s old in sports. The fact that I’ve played this game professionally for twelve years for the same team is a wonderful honor, especially when you consider the issues I’ve had with my shoulder. I think…it feels damn good to be able to throw an accurate strike like that one you mentioned, but it feels better to be able to hold my son without pain. It feels better for me to be able to embrace my wife or keep my arm around her shoulder while we watch a movie. Those are things I might not be able to do if I keep playing and screw my arm up a little bit more.”

Emma adjusts Jace in her arms, careful not to rouse him since he’s probably about five minutes from sleep. The kid has no idea the declaration of love his dad just made for the two of them, all of the declarations he’s been making, and he has no idea just how lucky they are that the sweet man having to talk to strangers about a huge part of his life ending is also the dumbass who thought it would be a good idea to ask her out on television.

It’s a good thing that Killian has learned from his mistakes and that she knows how to forgive.

“So you’re retiring because of your family? Lots of guys play with families.”

Killian rolls his eyes. Emma does too.

“I’m retiring because it’s my time,” Killian corrects with a forced smile on his face. “I love this game and everything that it has given me. I’m never truly going to leave it. I think I’ll likely take a few years off, maybe spend a hell of a lot of time making another kid with my wife, and then I’ll come back somehow. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get into the commentator’s booth with Emma. I think we’d make a hell of a team, and there’s nothing I’d love more than working with her again. Maybe I’ll be a coach for an MLB team or for a college or for my kid’s little league team. I don’t know yet. I haven’t exactly gotten it figured out.”

“One more question,” Ariel calls out, and Emma swears that she’s not crying. Nope. It’s not a thing that’s happening.

Except that she’s definitely crying and far too emotional, and she doesn’t want Killian to be up there by himself for his last press conference question. So as there’s a loud chorus of questions with every reporter’s hand raised, Killian still trying to pick someone to ask a question, Emma moves around the side of the room until she’s stepping up on the stage, her heels clacking against the platform, until she’s gently sitting down on Killian’s lap.

He rolled back in his chair in anticipation of her walking this way.

And his hand is warm on her arm and around Jace’s back, and just the slight touch is enough to make her emotional all over again.

Killian deserved to go out winning the World Series again. He deserved for his Hall of Fame career to have a big bang for an ending instead of a quiet fizzle, but life doesn’t work out that way. If this is what he wants, this is what he wants, and it’ll be perfect for him.

“Lawrence,” Killian calls out, nodding to the reporter who took over Emma’s job at ESPN.

“In all of your career, what’s been your favorite moment? Do you have one?”

Killian snickers at the question before turning to the side and pressing a kiss against her forehead. “World Series 2019, game seven. That was the year that changed every aspect of my life, and that game was incredible. I don’t think I’d ever experienced such an adrenaline high before. I don’t know if I have since in terms of baseball. I just…that was a special win for me because I got to do it with my mates, a lot of whom have retired since then or been traded to other teams, but I also got to do it with Emma. I know that I…God, I know that I sound like a sap right now, and I – ”

Killian tilts his head to the side and buries his face in her hair while his arm tightens around she and Jace. She can feel his body shaking the slightest bit.

“It’s okay, Killian,” Emma promises, whispering in his ear while Jace twitches in her arms, waking up the slightest bit. “You’re doing great, twenty-nine.”

“I was a fucking liar when I said that today wasn’t a big deal.”

“I know.”

He chuckles, that same chuckle she’s heard almost every day for six years, and when Killian pulls back from the two of them, he’s got a smile on his face.

“That year was the first time I had a partner in my life outside of my brother that I knew was always going to be by my side, no matter what happened, and I think baseball wise, that moment is always going to be my favorite. I’ve loved almost every minute of this journey, even having to deal with all of you guys hounding me about every move that I make, but if you don’t mind, I think I’ve got a toddler who is fast asleep and needs to go home.”

Emma twists her head to look at Killian, and he throws her a wink before leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers in a kiss while applause fills the room, an echo of the standing ovation Killian received while out on the field. He doesn’t stay to listen to this one, though. Instead, he encourages her to stand from the chair, and the two of them walk out of the room with his arm looped around her waist to the sound of people cheering for Killian.

He deserves every single clap.

They don’t stick around the stadium much longer. Killian runs into a few people who want to say goodbye, mostly those who won’t see him in their personal lives, but they’re able to leave pretty quickly. Their families have already gone home per Killian’s request of not making a big deal out of today. They’ll have some kind of celebration next week, one full of food and laughter and joy that isn’t so bittersweet like today.

When they get home, Jace is completely out, the car ride having knocked any remaining wakefulness out of him, and instead of waking him, Emma tells Killian to go take a shower while she changes Jace into his pajamas. He protests, like he always does, but eventually he relents and walks out of the room and down the hall to their bathroom so that he can shower. Emma figures that he likely needs a little time alone anyway.

It’s a weird day.

Once Jace is asleep, his arms wrapped around Will, the stuffed lobster toy that Jace named after Will Scarlet, Emma quietly turns on the baby monitor and closes the door behind her before making her way to the bedroom. The water in the shower is running, a constant hum of a stream, and Emma really does intend to let Killian be and let him have his moment alone where no one will bother him while the warm water beats against his skin. But Killian left the door to the bathroom open, pretty much inviting her inside, and she doesn’t think that he’ll mind even if her plan is simply to stand underneath the water with him and have her makeup fall down her face until she’s left looking like a terrifying clown.

Slowly, she steps into the room, the tile cool against her feet, and strips out of her clothes, picking them up off the floor and throwing them into the hamper. Killian hasn’t noticed her yet, the water pressure too high for him to hear her, and he’s got his back turned to her so that she has a view of strong legs and a firm ass that looks a million times better like this than in baseball pants.

She’s lucky for a lot of reasons. The muscles that stretch up Killian’s back and his arms tick off some of the more superficial ones.

Steam escapes the shower door when she opens it, a little bit of water too, but then she’s quickly pulling the clear glass door closed and stepping onto white tile so that she can wrap her arms around Killian’s waist, her finger threading into the patch of hair over his stomach, and her cheek nuzzling between his shoulder blades. Heat curls between her thighs at the feel of him, at knowing just how much she loves him, but instead of acting on any of it, she presses her lips to his back, laying soft kisses wherever she can while Killian’s hand comes to rest over hers.

“I thought you had banished me in here so that I could be alone,” he finally says as the water continues to pound down on them.

“Do you want to be alone?”

“I want to be with you.”

Emma hums and moves her arms from his stomach, sliding them up his body until her hands come to rest on his arms. Killian grunts something unintelligible, a mixture of pleasure and relief, and she’s barely even begun to work out the knots in his shoulder. He didn’t get his post-match massage, none of his usual recovery happening, so his shoulders are particularly tense. She knows exactly what to do, which muscles to apply pressure to and which to knead. It’s a rhythm and a practice that they’re been doing for years now to make sure Killian’s shoulder doesn’t get too stiff in the middle of the night.

Running her hands from his shoulders to his neck, she kneads the straining cords there while Killian reaches forward to press both of his hands against the tiled wall. His head drops, chin practically touching his chest, and his groan is almost more than Emma can handle.

“Fuck, love. I don’t...this feels so damn good, but if I don’t get to touch you soon, I’m going to lose my bloody mind.”

The heat she feels at his words, spoken in a deep and gravely tone, is almost dizzying, and Emma is ready to let him touch her, to let him bring her to life in the way that he always does. But today is Killian’s day, whether he wants to accept that or not, and instead of letting Killian turn around and kiss her, Emma wraps her arms around his waist again, dipping lower and lower until she can feel him straining warmly against his stomach.

She wants to tease him, to draw this out and make him go crazy with want now that they have actual alone time together, but Emma’s never been very good at being patient, especially not when it comes to this man wanting her. Killian’s the patient one, the one who is willing to wait until things are right, but his shallowed breathing and stuttered words make her think that he’s not very interested in being patient right now.

“Emma,” he breathes out, a mixture between a plea and a promise.

“You do this thing,” Emma begins as her finger traces underneath him, tracing a line in the vein in his length that Killian loves for her to do, “with your arms that make your veins more prominent. It’s just, like, all of the time, and your forearms are ridiculous. I get distracted staring at them. You’re a very distracting man.”

She wraps her fingers around his cock now, slow and steady as Killian’s knuckles practically go as white as the tile, and moves it in long strokes. Killian is very obviously trying to keep from thrusting his hips, the tenseness in his body back in full force, and all Emma can do is continue to stroke him and let him find more pleasure than pain as the water falls down around them and causes the hair on Killian to mat together and for the hair on her head to tangle.

“Sometimes I worry that I don’t let you know how much I love you,” she continues while Killian’s feet move and his hips begin to pump, aiding her hand in its work. “You’re so good with words and affection, with letting me know how much I mean to you, and I wish I could do the same with you. You deserve that.”

Killian’s step falters once more, and Emma thinks that he’s on the precipice of coming until he turns around, her hand falling from him as Killian’s hands come up to grip her face, kissing her with something approaching desperation. His tongue is sinful, hot and wet mixing in with hers, and Emma can feel his all the way down to her toes. There have been times over the years when they’ve gone through rough patches, when things weren’t always great between the two of them simply because of busy schedules or disagreements, but they’ve always worked back from those and come back to this.

Come back to this and everything else that makes up the two of them: baseball games, late-night baking sessions that never go right, attending far too many weddings and baby showers, having their own wedding at a courthouse on a random Wednesday, racing each other through Central Park as they run, laughing at the other as they trip over a pair of socks, sharing the depths of their hearts while under the covers, the lights of the city surrounding them.

Sobbing at a false positive on a pregnancy test. Sobbing at the accurate positive.

It’s a whirlwind, their life, and none of that can encapsulate it all.

Emma’s eyes are shut tightly as Killian continues to kiss her, his mouth insistent, and there’s no stopping the curl of heat now. Absolutely none. Especially when Killian moves his left hand and turns the water off, the stream immediately stopping so that chilled air hits the heat of her skin, gooseflesh rising. It’s cold, that’s undeniable, but Emma doesn’t care as her desire roars and Killian slowly backs them out of the shower with water dripping down both of their bodies.

“I swear if you let me trip, Jones,” Emma mumbles out as her feet hit against the cloth of the mat in the bathroom.

“You’ll what, Jones?” He enunciates the last word with a flick of his tongue against hers before he’s pulling back so that her nipples are no longer brushing against the thick patch of hair on his chest. Emma whines, her thighs too slick with wanting him to even care how desperate she sounds, and all Killian does is grab a towel from the shelf to wrap around her body, the soft cotton nothing compared to Killian’s touch. Even if he’s being an asshole right now. “I know you’re capable of a myriad of things darling, but I think you’re too desperate for me to do any of them.”

“You’re pretty confident in yourself, aren’t you?”

The towel tugs tighter around her waist, pulling her back into Killian so that his straining length brushes the inside of her thigh, and his lips are so close to her ear, breath heavy, that she’s not sure if she can handle any more of this. “Extremely. You usually like that about me.”

“You’ve had a lot of people complimenting you today. I wouldn’t want it to get into your head.”

“Of course. You’re here to keep me humble.”

“Exactly. I’m very good at my job.”

“Mhm,” Killian hums as the towel drops around them and Killian’s hands find the globes of her ass, kneading both of them while he continues to back them up into the bedroom. His lips are on her neck, her shoulder, back to her lips. “I love you, you know? It’s ridiculous how much.”

“Funny thing, I feel the same way.”

“Good.”

Once Emma falls against the mattress, they come together quickly, easily, like they have thousands of times before. Killian knows each inch of her skin intimately, knows just where to kiss and to touch and how to thrust, and it takes absolutely no time for her to begin to feel that desperation of needing him seep into her bones and settle there like it’s going to make a permanent stay. He’s fully seated in her, a heavy and thick drag that is like nothing else, and she can feel all of him hovering over her, heat and strength surrounding her he takes his time with his thrusts.

They’re slow, languid, and so damn breathtaking that Emma can’t even speak. She’s not sure that she wants to. Sometimes sex is just sex, a simple release of desire and passion to physically feel good. Other times it’s words of affection written with each kiss and feelings of love enunciated with each thrust and swirl of a thumb over a bundle of nerves.

Right now is the second one, and every word that Killian spoke to her earlier – in the hallways, on the field, in the press room – is echoed back to her as he moves within her and over her, his lips writing his love while Emma holds on and attempts to write the same words back.

Her heartbeat is thundering, a sound so loud that it blocks out nearly every other noise, and then she’s there, falling apart with a plea and a whisper, pleasure shaking over her body faster than she thought it would.

Holy fuck.

“Fuck,” Killian repeats back, almost as if he heard her thoughts. “Fuck, love. You’re exquisite.”

“So are you. You planning on finishing anytime soon?”

“I’m an old man. I’ve got to catch my breath.”

Emma barks out a laugh that Killian captures with a resounding kiss while his hips snap into hers, a perfect fit that is like nothing else in the world, and as his fingers intertwine with hers and he pulls them up above both of their heads, Killian joins her in her bliss, his body tensing up as his words become breathless, a mess that gets carried away with the thrum of the ceiling fan.

They collapse against the mattress, a tangle of sweaty limbs and wet hair, and when Killian pulls the comforter up over them, Emma turns on her side until she’s snuggled against Killian’s chest with her cheek resting against his heart and his hands in her tangled hair.

“We’re going to have to take another shower.”

Emma laughs with unbridled joy before pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Tell me the truth. Did I have mascara running down my cheeks this entire time?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

“Totally worth it.”

“Tell that to sheets that have little black marks.”

“I think we can wash them.”

“Possibly,” Killian sighs. His hand moves down her back until it’s resting on her ass once more. “But your mascara is damn stubborn. Ruined one of my favorite shirts that way.”

“It did not.”

“No, no, it did. I swear.”

Emma huffs and reaches around to pinch Killian’s side. He doesn’t even flinch. “Would it be so terrible for the two of us to go downstairs and make some brownies and then eat all of them so that we don’t have to share with Jace?”

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” Killian winks, trademark smirk curling on his lips. “Besides asking me out. That was a pretty bold move on your part, Swan. You had no idea that I had feelings for you. It’s not as if I’d given you any inclination.”

Emma laughs again, uncurling herself from her husband and sitting up in bed with a sated, goofy grin. “I had a pretty good idea, my love.”

-/-

-/-

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[lunafeather]

9 for the kiss prompts?

Hey I don’t know if you saw that I posted my response to this on AO3 (I was taking a break from tumblr at the time!), so I totally forgot to answer this ask and shit, I hope you saw it on AO3.... I’ll post it here, too, just to be safe haha

9. Fuck You Kiss

------------

It becomes a routine:

Put the kids to bed, stay up prepping their lunches for the next day, entertain Dean until he finally collapses onto their air mattress, then sneak out when he’s dead asleep.

She usually drives to Boland Bubbles in silence, her mind whirring, picturing the numbers in her head and rearranging them in a way that’s believable, but profitable, in a way that her husband won’t catch on -- not for a long while, anyway.

The parking lot is empty as she pulls in, the building ominously dark. She knows its dumb, but she wedges her keys between her fingers anyway as she leaves her car and treks to the employee side entrance and lets herself in. The motion sensor lights flicker on as she makes her way down the hallway, peeking into the warehouse to make sure it all looks kosher, doing the same with the break room and then the mood room, her eyes sweeping through the one pink tinted light they leave on for good luck, and she’s just about to turn away --

She screams when she notices the shadow looming in the corner of the room, hands in its pockets, seemingly staring into the hot tub they always have filled for customers to test out before buying.

Rio meanders closer, into the light, and Beth should have known it was him, of course it’s him, it’s always him. Still, she presses her palm to her chest, against the harsh thudding of her heart.

His eyes track the movement with interest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses.

He smirks, that dumb, handsome, terrible and infuriating smirk. “That any way to greet your boss?”

Beth rolls her eyes and stalks away, not waiting for him. He won’t answer her, and he’ll eventually follow her to the office planted in the center of the show room. She doesn’t have the time nor the patience to entertain him.

He appears in the doorway a few minutes later, leaning his hip against the frame, and she has to resist the urge to look up from the papers in front of her to properly take him in -- but she can see him in her peripheral, sees the black beanie tugged low over his ears, the charcoal grey button up shrouded by the black coat with the one white button hole, the loose black jeans and the black and white sneakers.

He’s found a color scheme he likes and stuck with it, and she can respect that -- her brain chooses to focus on this thought instead of the overwhelming surge of want that flows through her, the frustration prickling at her skin -- frustration with everything that’s happened between them, frustration with this business not being hers, not really , frustration with how fucking beautiful he is. He’s taken to sporting a full beard lately, trimming it instead of shaving, and it drives her to distraction when they’re in the same room together, many times Rio just staring at her while she tries to fight the blush at the memory of that beard against her thighs, of her fingernails running through it.

The worst part is that she’s convinced he knows exactly what it does to her.

All of this lust, all of this attraction, had been a lot easier to keep at bay when she was convinced he was going to kill her at any moment, reap his revenge with three matching holes -- his and hers -- blasted in her body, and when she was consumed with the desperation for survival, convinced she needed to get rid of him first to save herself.

This stalemate of theirs makes it too easy to slip.

So she ignores him.

She can feel him smiling at her.

Still, she’s the first to break the silence.

“How did you get in?”

Rio shrugs, doesn’t answer.

She didn’t really expect one anyway.

“You worried about bein’ all alone in this big warehouse in the middle of the night, baby?”

He smiles when she glares at him.

“Maybe if you told me how you got in, I’d be able to keep the place more secure.”

His eyes are dark, framed by those thick, long lashes. “Nah, where’s the fun in that?” he murmurs.

They stare at each other for a moment.

“Well, if you didn’t need anything, I’ve got some work to --”

“Why you keep coming here at this hour anyway, Elizabeth?”

Her brows furrow. “How did you --”

He tilts his head, gives her a look.

“Are you still having me followed?” she splutters.

He shrugs again, faux nonchalant, sticking his lower lip out and then pursing his lips.

“I thought we moved past that.”

“Oh, what, you think I’m s’posed to trust you, after everything?”

Beth tips her chin in defiance. “I mean, I did bring you this idea--”

A bark of laughter, devoid of amusement. “Nah, sweetheart, that’s not how it works and you know it.”

Her mouth settles into a hard line, and she lets her expression go blank. “Fine. But if that’s all --”

“You never answered my question.”

She can’t help it, she squawks, indignant. “I’m sorry, when the hell have you ever answered --”

“Why you keep comin’ here in the middle of the night?”

“Will you let me speak?” She’s not proud of losing her temper, never likes to let her emotions slip around him, especially not now, so she balls her hands into fists in her lap and tries to channel her anger into them.

Rio watches her, waits for her to say something else, but she doesn’t have anything else, was mostly annoyed at him cutting her off. His eyebrows hit his hairline.

“Oh, that it?” He takes three long, slow steps towards her, his fingers sliding along the edge of her desk -- well, Dean’s desk, but just for now, just until she can wiggle her way in -- stopping at the corner and leaning over it, hands splayed. “Cause I thought maybe you were gonna tell me why you sneakin’ around your business, fudgin’ numbers. Why your husband still thinks he runnin’ the game and callin’ the shots.”

Beth swallows. “I told you, it’s going to take some time for me to convince him to let me handle the books. He can’t know you’re involved, or he’ll --”

“He’ll what?” Rio sneers. “Go runnin’ to the cops, the FBI? He still refusin’ to see you’re the one who bossed up and pays the bills, huh? Guess what, darlin’, I shot him once, nothin’ stoppin’ me from doing it again.”

She’s not sure what reaction he’s expecting, but she has a feeling that her cool indifference isn’t it. He squints at her.

“If you let me take care of him, it won’t come to that.”

“I ain’t got time for you to try to pussy whip your dumbass husband --”

“Excuse me?”

“You should be pullin’ in way more cash than you are, so I’ma need you to stop gaggin’ on Dean’s dick and get your shit together --”

She’s up and in his face before she realizes what she’s doing, jabbing her finger into his chest. “How dare you!”

Rio snatches her hand and holds it away from them both. “Don’t.”

His voice is rough, a warning, but she doesn’t catch it, blinded by her fury.

“You don’t know anything about my marriage, about what I’ve had to do, what I’ve had to sacrifice!” Flailing wildly, she yanks her hand from his and goes onto her toes to get onto his eye level, waving her hand in his face and prodding him again.

“Elizabeth,” he growls.

“I will not let you degrade me, or treat me like --”

And then his mouth is on hers, effectively shutting her up. The kiss is rough, angry, desperate and filthy -- Rio’s hands cup her ass and lift her onto the desk, then slide up her back to mold her body against his, her breasts wedged against his chest and spilling out over her v-neck sweater. Beth wails into his mouth and clings to his shoulders as he steps between her thighs. He ravages her mouth, alternating rubbing his tongue against hers and sucking on it. She sinks her teeth into his lower lip hard enough that she thinks she tastes blood, and he groans and twists his fingers into her hair to yank her head back and expose her throat.

“You think about my tongue in your mouth when you kiss him, mama?” he says against her skin, sucking a hickey below her ear.

She scratches her fingernails against his scalp, helpless in his arms and writhing against him. One of his palms lowers to her ass to hold her in place, not allowing her to seek out any friction.

“You close your eyes and pretend its my cock fillin’ you up, makin’ you beg?”

Beth moans as his voice vibrates against her ear, pleasure singing down her neck and across her shoulders, threading through her spine and pooling at her tailbone. He grinds his hips into hers, and she can feel how turned on he is.

“He can’t make you come like I can, huh, baby? Gotta wait til he’s passed out and touch yourself, but your fingers aren’t enough, are they? Can’t reach inside you the way mine can.”

Those fingers clench in her hair, forcing her eyes open to meet his stare, his eyes dark fathomless, drawing her in and smothering her. She tries to lean forward, to kiss him again, but he keeps her still.

“He ain’t me,” he growls. The words tumble out from his lowest register, like he pried them from deep within himself, from a place he never lets see light, dripping with possessiveness and pride, and maybe even hurt.

She shakes her head. “He’s not you.”

Almost like he doesn’t want to hear it, like he’s already said too much, revealed too much, he crushes his mouth to hers again, and this kiss feels like a punishment and a plea. Beth lets it consume her.

And just like that, he’s releasing her, both of them panting as he steps back, putting some space between them and looking at her like she’s hexxed him, woven a spell to lure him, tempt him. And then the mask is back in place.

“You got a week to get your husband in line,” he says as he wipes their spit from his chin with his sleeve. He turns to leave, but stops in the doorway and looks over his shoulder. “And you better get a gun if you gonna be spending this much time here alone. Need to protect yourself.”

She arches an eyebrow at the implication under those words, that she needs to protect herself from him.

Beth’s got a feeling that his intentions are a little less murderous and a lot more carnal.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll empty the clip this time?”

His responding grin is slow, feral, like he’d been hoping she’d say that.

“Nah.”

And then he’s gone.

[carbonitekisses]

I’ll Be Coming For Your Love, Okay? (final chapter)

[AN: After season eight I, like many others haha, had massive writer’s block. It’s been a while since I posted (both on AO3 and tumblr). Anyways, I started this story before I had a tumblr so the last chapter of this fic is the only one on here. If a reincarnation/time travel-esque AU interests you, you can read the other five chapters on AO3 :)]

Chapter summary: Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne at the reception desk but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief.

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.  

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light.

Also on AO3

//

Bliss, he thinks, this is pure bliss. Her lips upon my lips, her breath mixing with mine. What need do I have for food or water when she is here? When she kisses me like she remembers?

“Let me never wake.”

“You’re not dreaming, love,” Sansa murmurs, and Jon opens his eyes to something he had resigned himself to never again see on her face. Recognition. Love. Joy.

Could it be true or will he wake to find her gone, her side of the bed empty and cold like it has been for the past year? Jon knows he wouldn't be able to survive if she were to leave him again. One time was one time too many. Each day had been filled with duty and routine until Ghost dragged him to the heart tree two days ago. The world seemed to right itself when he saw her laying on the grass before the heart tree. For the first time in a year Jon felt whole again. 

“Are you,” Jon tries to swallow past the hope that chokes him, “are you here? Are you here, back with me?” His hands slowly, shaking, reach to hold her face. “Have you come back to me, dear heart?”

”Yes, yes, yes.” With each affirmation she brings herself closer to him, lifting her dress until she’s able to straddle his thighs. His hands carefully wander to rest on her waist. It's a pleasure like no other to simply have her familiar weight atop him. “I was here—I was always here. It was strange. I felt trapped within what I knew to be my own body. And after the vision with the blinding light, somehow, the other presence was gone. And it was only me.

“I don’t know how I am alive, how I am home. All I know—” She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, kissing the scarred fingertips “—is that I am grateful to be with you once more. It's a blessing, it must be.” His hand remains encased in her soft grasp, resting in the space between them. “After all we have lost the gods owe us this much.”

Her gratitude reminds Jon that it is because of him that she ever left the world of the living. It was my own hands that killed her, he pulls his hand away from hers in self-disgust, I killed her.  

"If I hadn't plunged Longclaw through your heart... Forgive me, love." Jon shakes his head in anger. He is greedy asking for forgiveness. He is selfish. "Forgive me, forgive me—"

Sansa cuts him off. "No more. You don't need my forgiveness, Jon. If you hadn’t killed me the world of the living would have ceased to exist. Our family and our people would have fallen."

Jon is inclined to disagree. It must show on his face that he is more than willing to argue because Sansa pulls his face to hers and kisses him wildly, leaving him no air with which to voice his disagreement.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jon," she repeats once more. Her fingers nimbly unclasp the cloak she made for him so many moons ago. They pause and wander to the jerkin where grey fabric peeks out from underneath. A watery sob leaves her as she takes out the favor she had made for him before he left for war. It is almost weightless, so thin and worn it has become. The direwolves and winter roses haven't lost their color and Sansa looks at it in awe. "You kept it... after all this time."

"Everyday. Not once could I bear to keep it anywhere else but near my heart."

And it's true. The square piece of fabric, lovingly stitched with Sansa's own hand, had been a poor replacement of his wife. Nevertheless, it gave him hope. Hope that perhaps the red priestess was right. That some day Sansa would return to him. 

And now she's here in his arms.

Warm. Safe. Alive.

He brings his forehead against hers. Shares the air with her. He has been relieved of an emotional weight he has carried ever since he saw her blood paint the snow. "Never leave me again." He kisses her, drowns in the mere fact that she is here. Here, here, here. The next word comes out strangled and heavy. "Please."

Strong, kind, lovely Sansa Stark presses her smiling lips to the corner of his own. "I love you. As long as you love me—"

"Always." In life and in death. In whatever exists in between and beyond.

"Always is a long time."

"Always is not long enough. Not for us."

The truth. A spark. Firelight catches and dances in her hair. Sansa launches forward and takes him. He gives himself willingly. She undoes the lacing of his jerkin while her hips begin to move in a rhythm that leaves Jon completely in surrender. Any and all thoughts of books, visions, and gods of light flee into the night. “Always,” she whispers, she prays. His love, his wife, dips her head to kiss slightly underneath his jawline, whispering a request along her trail of kisses. He hardens underneath her touch. It's been so long, so very long. 

“I’ve missed you, husband. I only ask you to love me... Love me, Jon.”

And so he does.

// 

Sansa's eyelids refuse to lift under the weight of sleep. The last vestiges of a dream cling to her memory. Cold, cold snow... a fire... a man... a name. J-Jo—hmm. Joe? Jonas? Joseph? Her motor skills finally succeed in opening her eyes to the world. It definitely started with a “J”. Joel? I definitely wasn't dreaming about Joffrey. I'm sure of that, at least.  

The muscles in her neck strain and her bones creak in protest as she makes to stand up from the couch. Disoriented. That's how she is feeling. Unbalanced, too, if her trembling knees are anything to go by. Last night...what happened last night? If it were the weekend she would chalk it up to a hangover but it's Friday morning and she didn't go out last night. 

Sansa picks up a book from off the floor. She turns it around to look at the cover. A man and a woman are embracing underneath a heart tree. She vaguely remembers the book. it feels different... even if I can't remember much of it right now. Did she fall asleep trying to read this? Sansa quickly thumbs through ink-filled pages, trying to recollect something, anything, about it. 

"Where did—Oh!" Sansa recoils as her mind registers the time being displayed on her watch. She woke up later than usual, having seemingly forgotten to turn on her alarm last night. An hour. She has an hour to shower, change, and get to work. Pressed for time, she puts the book back into its manila envelope and then into her work bag along with her reading glasses.

She'll work out the mystery book once she gets to her office.

Without wasting any more time Sansa absentmindedly starts her favorite playlist on Spotify. Mornings are better with music.

Take on Me by a-ha starts to play.

Sansa groans.

Here we go again.

// 

The morning sun melts the small crumbs of her dream into oblivion until Sansa forgets that she even dreamed at all. 

Things are looking up for Sansa Stark after such a rough morning. And if the air feels cleaner, or time itself feels fresher... Well, Sansa won’t be the one to complain. Although, the time constraint did mean she was unable to make herself her usual cup of coffee. That's one thing I will allow myself to complain about.

Still, good-naturedly, Sansa steps into the brownstone building that is Grand Maester Publishing. It feels good to be here—on time!—as she greets the coworkers she passes with a smile and a hello. The elevator ride to the third floor is full of pleasant chatter with Willas, a fellow editor who just learned that a book he worked on will soon be turned into a feature film.

"How exciting!" The elevator door dings open and they step out and into the lobby. "I'm assuming there will be a reissue with cover art relevant to the film?"

"Most likely; I actually have a meeting today with the author." He checks his watch. Behind him, Sansa sees that Jeyne isn't alone at the reception desk. Though she can only see his back she can tell the man is stressed and agitated. Willas speaks and she looks back at him. "I'll let you know how it goes later, yeah?"

"Please do."

Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief. 

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.  

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light. 

She swallows and tears her eyes away from the man and looks at her friend instead. "Hi, Jeyne. Do you need me?"

Seven save me. I know I'm a romantic but fuck I'm being overdramatic. Goosebumps litter her skin. He's not even that good looking. She tries to discreetly look at him once more. She fails; he was already looking at her. Okay, that's a lie. He's handsome. Beautiful, even. But still. Keep it in your pants, Sansa Stark. Sansa flushes and hopes that whatever Jeyne needs her for is resolved quickly.

Jeyne looks apologetically at the stranger. She gets right to the point. "Sansa, do you have the manila envelope that I dropped off at your office yesterday?"

Oh, so she was the one who delivered this to my office. Well, that's one mystery solved.

"Yes, it's in my bag." She takes it out and keeps a firm grip on it; an oddly possessive feeling washes over her. The man beside her slumps in, what she can only describe as, relief when he sees the envelope. Confused by his reaction she asks Jeyne, "Why?"

The grey-eyed man answers instead, speaking for the first time. His voice reminds her of smoke and dark chocolate. "That envelope, it's mine."

Sansa stands there dumbly, speechless. Wait. What?

"I am so sorry for the mixup." Jeyne's hands are twining and twisting around each other. Her friend and coworker is such a gentle and caring person. She loathes causing problems or inconveniences for others. "I thought the envelope was addressed to Sansa. It was an honest mistake, I swear."

Apparently her distress is evident enough that even the owner of the book notices. His face softens, the stress that furrowed his brow dissipates, and he offers Jeyne an awkward, comforting smile, "I'm sorry for worrying you so much." He turns to look at Sansa. "Honestly, it's my fault. If I hadn't been in such a hurry and written Sam's name more legibly this wouldn't have happened."

At this remark, Sansa looks down at the scrawl on the envelope. Hm. Everything after the S is messy. If she scrutinizes the writing she can kind of make out the name. "Sam Tarly? The literary agent? That's who this was meant for?"

"The one and only," he says with a grin that speaks of pride. "I'm to meet with him later to discuss the book."

The book isn't hers. It wasn't meant for her. She has no right to it. And still, it feels wrong to let it go. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But return it she must. 

Just then a woman comes up to the receptionist's desk, and Jeyne whispers an apology before turning away from them to attend to the woman. She and the man with the handsome voice move away to let Jeyne work. 

Her arm is stiff as she finally hands over the book to its rightful owner. 

Their fingers touch briefly and Sansa nearly drops the envelope. Ridiculous. Utterly RIDICULOUS. Be cool, woman! He doesn't seem to notice but the genuinely happy smile he grants her throws her into a tizzy again. Who does this man think he is, affecting her in such a way?

"I'm being all sorts of rude today, I never even introduced myself." He holds out a hand. It hangs, waiting in the space between them. "I'm Jon Snow."

Cautiously, she places her hand in his. She knows it's ludicrous but if she had to describe his touch she would describe it as warm, safe, and alive.

"Nice to meet you, Jon Snow." His name tastes sweet and rich. "I'm Sansa Stark."

He smiles again, "Sansa Stark." She thinks he makes her name sound sweet and rich, too. "A pretty name." He grimaces and his ears turn red. "I didn't mean—uh, I'm sorry. It is a nice name. I just—" He's flustered and it's a new side to him she hasn't seen yet. It's endearing, really. He may look broody and mysterious but it's almost comforting to know this stranger, Jon, can be just as awkward as she is.

She can feel herself blushing but pays it no mind. It's a compliment no one has given her before but Sansa likes it. Her name, an old family name, is pretty and it's time someone said so. The corners of her lips upturn into a pleased smile. "Thank you, Jon Snow."

They stand there for a moment just smiling at each other.

There's something here and maybe it is a bit ridiculous to fancy a connection between them but Sansa feels brave. 

What if he's not interested in me in that way? What if he already has a girlfriend? What if— No. I'm done with what-ifs. Put on your big girl pants, Sansa. You have to put yourself out there if you want something in life. And if he's already in a relationship, well, one can never have too many friends.

Sansa shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "You said you had a meeting with Sam?"

He clears his throat and promptly answers, "Aye, some time around one. He's not coming in to work until after lunch hours."

"I know this is quite sudden but would you be free to discuss the book with me beforehand? My schedule is clear today and I'm just really interested in the book and would like to learn more about it. I didn't get a chance to read it last night but there's just something about the book itself that really spoke to me." I'm rambling. Sansa cringes internally. It's true that I'm curious about the novel but out of all the times to word vomit...  "You don't have to if you don't want to!" 

Jon looks surprised at her request. In the couple seconds it takes him to respond Sansa wishes the ground would swallow her whole. It only gets worse when she notices that Jeyne has been supervising their interaction with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Surprised he might have been but he answers her with a grin that wrinkles the corner of his grey eyes. "I'd love to."

//

Jon didn't expect his Friday morning to be like this. Especially not after the anxiety and worry he had felt last night. Nonetheless, he increasingly finds himself grateful for whatever choices or divine power led him here. Here with the increasingly wonderful Sansa Stark.

They've been talking for hours.

She's an editor and has been working with the publishing house for almost five years. Yes, she's from that Stark family but she's not pretentious or snobby at all. That isn't to say that her impeccable manners and obvious upperclass rearing don't intimidate him, if just a little. He's not unaware of the ways of the great houses of Westeros (he may be a bastard but he's a Targaryen bastard) and he can tell there is genuine warmth and interest when she speaks to him.

"I still can't believe you found this at an estate sale and you were practically gifted it by the owner," Sansa's voice is a near whisper and filled with incredulity.

Incredulity has been a latent feeling during their conversation and it all began when they read two names within the book.

They had started off sitting opposite each other at her desk but had quickly transferred to the moderately sized loveseat in her office. It was easier to look over and study the book together this way. It was also easier for Jon to talk to and infatuate himself with the smart redhead sitting next to him.

They're currently reading the last legible section in the book. The writer's husband seems to be on his deathbed and she writes about how she feels her soul will not wait long to be reunited with him once more. Jon has read the book before but he feels as if he is truly reading it for the first time with Sansa, at moments, reading it aloud. He also can't shake the strange feeling that perhaps he had never actually read the book. But that would be unfathomable. Why would he not read a book with words in it?

"Neither can I. If I'm not mistaken this could have been written centuries ago." It's a theory that he has no way to prove (yet) but is uncharacteristically confident in. Sam's expertise will be immeasurable and doubt-breaking. Sansa hands the book back to him, slowly and gently. "Sam's the expert on historical writings so hopefully he'll help me understand just who wrote this. When he worked at the history museum with me he was the one to go to about these sorts of things," Jon fondly remembers how his friend's work docket never seemed to empty. "Even though there were more than ten people in his department."

"I've worked with Sam before—he always finds amazing stories and authors—I'm sure you couldn't find anyone better to help you figure this out." She pauses and uncrosses her legs. "Now, I'm no historian but I am an editor and..." Her eyes land on the book currently being held in his hands. "I think this might be semi-autobiographical. Maybe, quite possibly, written as a diary or a journal. The tone and style is extremely intimate." She hesitates before speaking again and he notices vulnerability bleed into her voice. "The sections that are still legible remind me of how I write in my own."

Years of being extremely socially self-conscious helped him notice how quickly Sansa seemed to regret voicing a personal detail. If he hadn't been looking at her so attentively (she has gorgeous eyes) he wouldn't have noticed it, so adept was she in calming her features. Not wanting to make her feel that her implied trust was misplaced he hummed in gratitude for her professional and personal input. "Huh, that is actually very helpful. It would explain why there seems to be such a lack of details. If this were a diary, written for personal use, it stands to reason the writer wouldn't need to explain things like a commercial writer would." Sansa shows teeth when she smiles. Really smiles. It's warm. He likes it. "Although, it is a bit odd don't you think?"

Coincidence. The word is too small. A word with bigger significance is in order. Fabricated? No, sounds too cold. The editor, with sensibly attractive black heels, blushes and opens her mouth to speak but seems to be in the same predicament as him. Preordained? Now that... sounds almost like destiny. Almost too big.

A crisp, bitingly endearing laugh. "I wasn't sure whether to mention it." It is something Jon has noticed about Sansa. She does not seem to like causing discomfort—be it real or imagined. It is easy to think everyone has this trait. However, Jon's experience with people from all walks of life has proven that to not be the case.  "But yes, it's odd. Maybe weird?" She says this like a question they both know the answer to. They do. And Jon laughs. "Okay, definitely weird. I mean, what are the chances that there is both a Sansa and a Jon in the book?"

Almost.

It's probably the strangeness of the situation that made them avoid call the writer by her name. Or to call the husband by his. Because if Jon's theory, and Sansa's hunch, are proven right then that means there existed a Sansa and Jon before them. A Sansa and Jon whose love and life filled countless pages with words handwritten by a woman who thought them worthy of ink and time. Though many of the words have faded or been damaged they still tug at his heart. And Jon would bet it does the same for Sansa. 

I feel bubbly, Jon thinks. Bubbly like the feeling of a fizzy drink in his mouth. Like an adventure about to start. Like a newly discovered military artifact that he can't wait to analyze and date. To be frank, Jon has never described anything as bubbly. Yet something about Sansa makes him think it the most appropriate. As a true pessimist, doubt and caution in the name of self-preservation make him lean back a bit from her. He hadn't noticed how close they had gotten. Way to over-exaggerate a moment, bud. She could be in a relationship for all I know.

His pocket vibrates. Sansa had pulled away as well and briefly glances down to the source of the noise. "I take it that's Sam?"

"Probably." Jon pulls his phone out. "Aye, it's him. Says he just arrived at his office."

It's time for him to leave. Sam is here in the building and he should leave before he gets too invested in what could only stay as a pleasant meeting between strangers.

He gets up and picks up his jacket. The book weighs heavy in his hand. 

Sansa stands up and smooths down her skirt as she does so. He hadn't noticed but the skirt has pockets that she now puts her hands into. "Tell him I say hello. It's been a while since we bumped into each other." She tucks her hair behind her earring studded ear. "Feel free to let me know what ends up happening with the book."

Is this...hm. If Jon weren't so jaded by the punches of life he would interpret this as an opening to ask for her number. He wants to but a pit of fear gurgles inside him. Rejection. Better to keep my heart safe. Sansa seems like the kind of woman that would ruin him for any other. In all the best worst ways possible.

"Will do." I won't. "It was a true pleasure meeting and spending time with you, Sansa Stark." Was that too formal? Yeah, it was. Goddammit.

"The pleasure was all mine, Jon Snow."

They shake hands one last time and Jon leaves.

//

Shit.

//

He immediately walks right back into the warmth of her sunlit office. 

It's worth taking a risk. A little bit of optimism never hurt anyone. Sansa hadn't moved but her head snaps up at the sound of his entrance. She's surprised and he's clearly caught her unaware. Her lips part and she takes a step back, bumping into the armrest of the loveseat. Okay, too late to back out now. 

"I just realized we didn't exchange business cards." He tries to act cool but is hindered by the struggle of digging through his wallet for a card. "Here, it has both my cell and work numbers. And email." She can read, idiot. Way to point out the obvious. 

Sansa takes it. She studies it for a bit and Jon knows he visibly relaxes when she meets his eyes with a smile. She turns on her heels and grabs her own card from a clear business card holder sitting on the edge of her desk. 

"Here. Mine also has both my cell and work numbers." Her eyes are glittering with what he can confidently describe as mischief. "And email."

The card design is elegant and sleek. And sure enough her cell number is on there.

"Thanks. I'll.. text you, after I meet with Sam." Might as well go all the way. "Or if you're free after work we could go get coffee? A drink? Let you know what Sam could figure out."

"I'd like that!" She uncrosses her arms and stands leans her weight to the left. "And, yes, I'm free tonight."

"Well, guess I'll see you later, Sansa Stark."

"Sansa." She rolls her eyes, minutely, in good humor. "Just Sansa."

"I'll see you later, Sansa."

"See you later, Jon."

Jon waves at her and leaves; he's kept Sam waiting long enough. He's practically jogging to Sam's office. People are moving out of the way and giving him odd looks. It's probably because he's grinning so wide he must look manic. Jon doesn't know what the future may bring but he knows that Sansa is someone worth knowing and learning more of. Simply stated, he likes her. Something about her calls out to him. It's beyond physical attraction. It's... it's something he caught glimpses of when she smiled, when she fidgeted with the ring on her middle finger, when her hair reflected the sunlight coming in from her large office window.

Jon doesn't even have both feet in Sam's office before his friend says, "What happened? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing." It's an obvious lie. His lips stretch more and it hurts. But he can't stop smiling. "Ready to solve this mystery?"

[purplesurveys]

497

Have you ever cut your own hair? Nope, my mom would never allow me; and tbh I never would allow myself to do it either. What do you eat most frequently? Rice. I have it for every meal, 7 days a week. Except for when I have pasta. Are you a fan of video games? I’m a fan of watching people play them, and there are a lot of video games I have sentimental attachment to because I was raised in a home where all the boys knew how to work a console; but I myself don’t play. What's your favorite color combination? Black/white with anything earthy. I’m all for simple tones. Did you share a locker at school? No, we all had our own.

What's one sport you could never play? Basketball. I never could understand what the rules were. When we had basketball for PE in high school, I would literally just stand on the court when it came time to play because I never had a grasp on the game. I was a sucky teammate fosho. Blue or black ink? Black. I hate using pens with blue ink. Have you ever sang karaoke? I think the last time was when I was 12 or 13. I hate hate hate being the center of attention and the last thing I want is to sing (which I don’t do) on a microphone that’s gonna amplify my voice and will force people to look at me. What was the last concert you attended? Man it was nearly a year ago, but it was Paramore. Have you held anyone's hand in the past week? Yup, you just barely caught the timeframe! I last held hands last Thursday, exactly a week from today. What's your favorite perfume/body spray/cologne? I bought Beyoncé’s Heat Rush a few years back because I was a huge fan (still am), but I didn’t know I was gonna end up loving the scent so much. It’s still my perfume today and it’s my go-to when I’m going on a date or going somewhere fancy and/or formal. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? 45 minutes should be generous enough. I have to beat the traffic everyday so I don’t devote a lot of time simply to get ready. What is the oldest age you think should wear makeup? No age is too old for makeup. How old were you when you went on your first date? I’ve never had a first date per se...I did have one special museum + early dinner ‘date’ with Gab that ended up becoming memorable. I was 16 then. What's your nationality(ies)? Filipino. Pretty sure there’s some distant, distant Spanish blood somewhere down the line. Are you an open book? Very open.  Do you think you're a good secret keeper? For the most part, yeah; but there’ll be times that I wouldn’t be able to help it and spill to Gabie. Which is fine, because she forgets things easily and is 101% not up to date with and doesn’t care for anyone’s lives. She’s super unbothered which is why I kinda choose to tell her stories; but if she had a big mouth, then I probably won’t spill secrets to her. Name one fashion trend you could never follow. Oversized shirts. Do you prefer long hair or short hair? Right now, I’m preferring short. When do you plan to go to sleep tonight? Just my bed. Has anyone besides your family seen you naked? Yes. If so, who? My girlfriend. What exotic animal would you love to have as a pet? NOPE. Do you want kids when you're older? Yeah, I do. Did your parents sign you up for anything you hated as a child? They made me sing to 100+ guests on my 7th birthday party if that counts. I had ballet when I was 5, but it wasn’t that I hated it...it’s just that I was too young to understand what was happening and what I was signed up to, which was partly why I did so badly in the class. Where's your cell phone? I lost my first cellphone on a 1st grade field trip, so it’s definitely somewhere in the waterfalls we went to 14 years ago. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Egg. What are your feelings about Octomom? I don’t really know the circumstances surrounding her, so. Do you know of Smosh? Of course, I grew up watching them. I was there when their popularity exploded, and a little longer after that. I don’t anymore, but sometimes I’ll go back and watch their 2011-2013 skits, and my personal favorite series of theirs, Lunchtime with Smosh.  Do you drink enough water daily? Yep. I looooooove water; I probably drink too much of it haha. Is your diet healthy? I think it *could* fall under healthy? I eat too much junk for my life but I always balance it out with veggies and I just basically make sure that everything else I eat can be beneficial for me, so it balances all the junk out. What's your favorite fruit? Yeah no I hate fruit. What was your favorite Halloween costume? The year when I dressed up as AJ, because I got noticed by her for it. Also the time I dressed up as Sofie, because that was lowkey hilarious. Have you purchased any cool objects from a foreign country? No because everything in other countries (at least the ones I’ve been to) is SO EXPENSIVE. I prefer taking photos, they serve as the best souvenirs for me. Are you on a laptop or a desktop computer right now? Laptop. Where do you plan to post this survey? On my Tumblr, which you’re on right now if you’ve reached this point of the survey. Do you remember anyone's number by heart? Just my mom’s, sister’s, and Gabie’s. Are you a morning person or a late night owl? Night owl, definitely. Name something you will never try in your lifetime. Fruits that I haven’t already tried. What do you think is your biggest flaw? I chicken out of certain things because I’m afraid of failing. First physical trait you notice in the sex you're attracted to? Body language. That technically counts right? Hahaha. How about personality wise? How they speak to me. Are you sick often? I’m sick never. Would you rather have strep throat or an ear infection? I’ve had neither and would like it to stay that way thank you??? When did you last shower? A couple of hours ago, because it was weirdly and annoyingly hot today. Do you have neat handwriting? Yes, I get a lot of compliments for my penmanship. Are you a messy or organized person? Depends on what the space is. My bag for school can get very messy, but my files are always organized; and my room is what I’d call messy-organized in that it’s a mess but I remember where every single thing is. At what age do you hope to get married? 27-28. Is being thin really all that great? I don’t hate being it, that’s for sure. Which of the seven deadly sins do you think you're most guilty of? Envy. How much time have you spent on the computer today? Pretty much the whole day. My body wanted to watch a whole season of Queer Eye today haha.

What size shoe are you? 6-7. How was the weather today? Ugh, MAKE IT RAIN ALREADY. Do you live above, below, or on the Equator? Above the equator, but it’s very very close to it. Do you know how to use Photoshop? Nope. Admit it, you're thinking about someone right now. I’m thinking about the next meal I’m gonna be having lmfao. Where is he/she? It’s in the dining area. Where was your first job? I haven’t had one yet. Favorite year in high school? 3rd or 4th. East or West? East? Where did your first kiss take place? On my bed. What color do you wear most often? I can’t tell which but it’s definitely black or white.

Who was the last person you talked on the phone to? Gab. Have you ever been to a night club? Nah, I don’t know if clubs are my thing. I’m much more comfortable in bars. Are you allergic to anything? I’m not. What's the best place you have ever eaten? The buffet at Circles, Sambokojin, or the food I had at my cruise ship vacation. I really can’t pick. Do you own a hair straightener? I don’t have one of my own, but my mom will let me borrow hers if I need it. Are you barefoot right now? Correcto. Are you subscribed to any magazine? Nope. Puppies or kittens? Puppies. If you had a billion dollars, where would your first investment be made? A modern, spacious house. Who is the best artist you've seen live? PARAMORE YOOOOOOOOOOOO. They connect with their fans so well and you can easily tell you love what they do. Coldplay is a very close second as their production value is fucking insane. Any major plans coming up this week? No not really. I have a date with Gab tomorrow and we’re gonna go out and watch Midsommar, but that’s it for this week. She, Angela, and I are taking a road trip to Nasugbu next Monday though so that’s pretty major. Did you know they never told you Arnold's last name in Hey, Arnold? I never really thought about it. Would you rather watch a romantic comedy or watch a thrilling horror movie? OMG, my two favorite genres :( I’m watching a horror flick tomorrow so I can go for a romcom right now.   Why is Paris Hilton famous? Because of her great-grandfather and her Iconic show with Nicole Richie hahaha. How is your hair styled right now? It’s just down and dried out right now.

Favorite person that you've talked to today? Angela. Do you need AC right now? AC is always a good idea in the Philippines. Do more people call you by a nickname or your first name? My first name is already my nickname/given name. Name something you're proud of. Still being here. How do you feel about couples who say 'I love you' too soon? No judgment. If that’s how they communicate and if it works, so be it. What's the most recent favor you've done for somebody? I drove Laurice to UPTC last Tuesday so she can catch her bus going back all the way to Alabang. Are you at home right now? Yesssssssss I’m so happy to just be at home this whole week. What did you last spend money on? My parking fee at UPTC. Does any accent annoy you? No. How about turn you on? I like certain English accents but not to the point where they turn me on haha. Are you wearing any jewelry? Not right now. Do you get along better with your mom or your dad? Dad. Are you craving anything right now? BURGERS What's worse: Crocs or Uggs? Crocs. Do you knock before you open doors? Yeah, as much as I can. Do you know what a sock on the doorknob means? I think Penny from Big Bang Theory was the one who explained that this means that there are people having sex in the room, but then again it was a tie on the doorkob in that episode so I dunno if they still mean two different things. Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate. What's your zodiac sign? Taurus. Does Fred from Youtube annoy you? No, not really.

[nitewrighter]

Maybe it's not the time nor the moment to ask this considering that Tumblr is dying but... If the fankids were to get married with their corresponding partner, where and how would the ceremony be? (Yeah weird question I know)

Tumblr isn’t dying, its code is just a fucking disaster, as usual.

(Also it’s not a weird question. OC wedding planning is a weakness of mine haha.)

Seye and Marti get married at the old community church Marti’s mother was a part of. Seye rocks an agbada rather than a tux. Wedding color scheme is scarlet and teal. Marti’s dress is a fairly traditional lacy white with a sleek kinda-sexy-but-tasteful silhouette and some cool colorful Huipil-esque embroidery at the hems and waist. It’s a pretty small was-nearly-an-elopement-but-then-your-friends-found-out-and-insisted-on-throwing-it wedding

Aedan and Rei get married in church ruins so like… fairytale-feeling, but also a little goth. Color scheme is green, yellow, and amber. Rei’s wedding dress has kind of an elven feel to it, with vaguely Japanese + Regency elements. Aedan’s tux is a lovely deep moss green. It’s a bit more planned than Marti and Seye’s wedding, but there are more bittersweet undertones to it. 

Moira: *pacing back and forth in her creepy Magneto/Hannibal Lecter cell* Tch. I hope you’re happy. What kind of son won’t even bring his own mother to his wedding?Aedan: You’re in prison.Moira: Hmph. Still…Aedan: And you murdered the bride.Moira: She got better.

[aisulinn]

[Translation Script Only] Florist/Bookshop(Karaoso) Manga

Source : 【おそまつ】花書(カラおそ)まとめ【腐】

Artist : 48Sensei/しば [pixiv id: 324108 ] [twitter: 48sensei ] [tumblr: 48sensei]

I DID NOT HAVE THE PERMISSION TO REPRINT so this is just the translation script! THE ARTIST DOESN’T ALLOW ANY REPRINT SO PLEASE NOTE THAT

Please read it side by side with the manga on the link~!

48sensei made a compilation of the florist/bookshop karaoso that they posted on twitter! It’s really cute so I just wanted to share it with you guys!

It’s 42 pages long so.... MORE UNDER THE CUT!

Notes:

Italic = inner thought (thought bubble or thing that’s not in speech bubble)

Bold = the writing that’s bold in manga

one paragraph = one panel

*__* = sfx

Divider = different section/scene according to the twitter post (note that 48sensei posted the pages separately on twitter)

ENJOY!!

***

PAGE 1

Radio : Good Morning! The first rank of today’s fortune telling is for you Geminis!

Kara : *yawn*

 Screen : First place = Gemini

             Second place = Sagitarius

             Third place = Aquarius

 Radio : Your lucky item iiis…. RED GERBERA!

 Kara : Heheheheh~ ♪

 Kara : Good morning my flowers. As always, today too you’re beautiful it’s blinding

  PAGE 2

Kara : heh

 Kara : Hello, my lucky baby. You will surely bring me wonderful fortunes today

 Oso : Good morniiing~

 Oso : is it open yet?

Kara : welcome!

 Oso : excuse me, is it okay if I just buy a single flower?

Kara : of course!

  PAGE 3

Oso : okay, good!

 Oso : I want the red…

Kara : Red gerbera…

 Oso : what?

 Kara : A red gerbera...

  PAGE 4

Oso : Wow! How do you know which flower I want? Are you an esper?

Kara : HUH?! Uh…

 Kara: Pardon me, the red gerbera… It’s this flower over here right?

Oso : yup! Sorry to buy just one. I happened to see my fortune today and my lucky item is red gerbera~

 Oso : Now to think about it, this flower was also in the book I read yesterday… so yeah

 Kara : Sir, are you perhaps a Gemini? Because I am one too

 Oso : You too? I saw this morning’s fortune! Haha, somehow I feel like I can relate to you more now

PAGE 5

Kara : thank you for the wait

 Oso : thank you

 Kara : *doki*

 Oso: I recently start working on Akatsuka Bookshop. If you like books, please come and stop by! See you!

 Kara: Ah, thank you very much!

 Kara: Thank you, baby. You’re really giving me wonderful fortune

  PAGE 6

Kara : COME ON NOW! TURN! MY GEAR OF LOVE!

 Naration: As he gets closer to Karamatsu, Matsuno Osomatsu starts doing stuff like “Flower Arrangement Fair” or “Gardening Fair” frequently

Co-wrkr1 : Matsuno san, we’re doing that kind of fair agaain~?

Co-wrkr2: Do you like flower that much?

Oso : It’s not that! I told you horticulture system is really popular right now!

Co-wrkr: really, now~?

Oso : REALLY!

***

***

PAGE 7

Oso : Minette sensei~ I did it!!

Ichi : Niisan! FOR REAL?!

 Ichi : then, then?! How far did you go?!

Oso : Karamatsu kun has the same zodiac as me! ❤

Ichi : then?!

 Oso : isn’t that wonderful?! The chance of that is only 1/12!! I wonder if our birthday is close~

 Ichi : eh?

 Ichi : by “did it” you mean, that? That’s all?

Oso : what do you mean “that’s all”? Well, that IS all

  PAGE 8

Ichi : huh??? What the hell! I THOUGHT YOU DID MORE YOU IDIOT! Your hands touched and your hearts went doki ☆ for instance! Or maybe he said something like, “compared to this flower, Matsuno san is more beautiful”. OR MAYBE YOU KNOW? END IT WITH A BANG AND MAKE A DATE PLAN OR SOMETHING? NO?!

Oso : You have a wild imagination, huh

 Ichi : No those ideas are overused and heck they’re actually really lame?? That is why I already expected those from you, niisan…

Oso : I mean you know, today is the first  time I talked to him! Knowing his zodiac is already a great achievement, right?

Ichi : WHAT?

 Ichi : seriously??? I mean, every day, the only thing talk about is this “karamatsu kun”…. That’s why I thought…

Ichi : What?

 Ichi : YOU WERE NOT EVEN ACQUAINTANCE YET?? YOU ONLY SEE HIM FROM AFAR? UNTIL NOW??

Oso : He doesn’t even know my name yet…  I’m sorry

  PAGE 9

Ichi : *slump*

 Ichi : hah~~~ I’m really disappointed in you, niisan… Ah~~ The deadline for the storyboard of my next series is in two weeks… Ah~~ It’s impossible… I’m dead… Let’s just die….

Oso : Come on~ I even gathered up enough courage to talk about the lucky flower with him! For you!

 Oso : niichan did his best you know? Don’t you wanna praise me?

 Ichi : …….

 Ichi : did you at least properly show him your appeal?

Oso : I said “I’m working on Akatsuka Book shop! Come by if you love books!” ❤

Ichi : Does he... look like the type that loves book? That Karamatsu kun?

Oso : ………………^^

  PAGE 10

Ichi : you fucked up didn’t you

Oso : I DIDN’T!! I'M JUST GETTING STARTED

 Oso : well, that is why…

 Oso : You’re doing book signing event at my bookshop~

Ichi : HAAAAAH??? I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING ABOUT THIS?!

Oso : So that I can ask for the decoration flower at Karapippi’s, don’t back out on this

 Ichi : YOU’RE USING YOUR LITTLE BROTHER FOR THIS?! I REFUSE!!

Oso : LOOK WHO’S TALKING?! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S USING YOUR ANIKI’S LOVE LIFE FOR MANGA REFERENCE!!

Naration : ★Without noticing each other’s feelings, the gear is turning!

 ***

***

PAGE 11

Co-wrkr2 : Matsuno saaan~

Oso : here~

Co-wrkr2 : Have you ordered flowers for this week’s Minette sensei’s signing event yet?

 Oso : uh.. no, not yet….

Co-wrkr2 : From Flower Akatsuka right? Should I go?

 Oso : DO--

 Oso : DON’T!! DEFINITELY DON’T DO IT!! I’LL DO IT SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO!

Co-wrkr2 : I-- I see..? But you already said that two days ago…

 Co-wrkr2 : if you’re slacking off again the boss will be mad

Oso : I’m not slacking off!!

 Oso : it’s just… I need more preparation for my heart when it comes to flowers….

 Co-wrkr2 : what?

Oso : NOTHING!! I’M GOING NOW! *dash*

  PAGE 12

Oso : Good evening~

Kara : Welc--

 Kara : --come

 Kara : ah, the red gerbera guy!

Oso : what?

 Oso : red gerbera guy….?

 Kara : pardon me… you’re the one who bought red gerbera recently, right? So I just…

Oso : Oh!

 PAGE 13

Oso : Ahaha you remember! Thank you~ HE ACTUALLY REMEMBERS?! SERIOUSLLLY???!!!!

 Oso: but red gerbera guy is like… haha that purple rose guy

Kara : purple rose?

Oso : you know? Glass Mask?

 Kara : I’m sorry, I don’t really read a lot of books

Oso : Ah I knew it. It’s an old manga anyway~

 Oso : oh, I’m not here to chat

Kara : Then what can I help you with today?

 Oso : erm… This week, our shop will be having a signing event of a manga author, that’s why we need some flowers

Kara : Do you have any certain color you’re hoping for?

Oso : The author personal color is purple so I thought maybe purple shades flower is good

Kara : purple…

 PAGE 14

Kara : we have purple roses!

Oso : eh, for real?

Kara : yes

 Kara : look! Look how pretty this girl is! *smile*

 Oso : *kyun*

 Kara : Purple rose has “Pride” or “Elegance” or “Honor”, for its meaning…

 Kara : that author surely is a lovely person that is no less than these roses~

Oso : well, sure…

 PAGE 15

Kara : to be chosen for that person’s gift…

 Kara : this girl must be very happy

 Oso : heh

 Oso : all right, I’ll take that one

 Kara : Thank you very much!

 Oso : I love this side of him~

***

***

PAGE 16

Oso : okay then, Friday at 10

Kara : okay, noted!

Oso : I’ll look forward to it!

 Oso : somehow it feels like a date. Yay~

Naration : it’s actually just delivery time

Kara : u-- um…

Oso : hm?

 Kara :  uh… last time… you told me to stop by your place… right?

 Oso : ...to my shop?

Kara : yes. Then, uh… the next day I decided to stop by

 Oso : EH!!!??

Oso : seriously~~!!??! The next day!! I!!  I was working at the back for a whole day, packing and wrapping returned goods~~~?!?! Haaaaaah~~~!!! What a waste!!

Kara : but you were not there

 Kara : that was too bad…

Oso : I-- I’M SORRY! That day was exactly the day I’m working on the back, so I already said that I won’t come...

Kara : so, Matsuno san

 Oso : eh? Why do you know my name…

 PAGE 17

Oso : oh, my nametag… Ah, it’s written my full name here, how embarrassing

 Oso : it’s because in this part of town there’s a lot of Matsunos…

 Kara : here, as a gift for coming here today. Please accept this

 Oso : eh, are you sure?

Kara : of course! It’s my sincere feelings.  I will continue on my service

Oso : Thank you… I’m really happy

PAGE 18

Oso : MINETTE SENSEI!!!!!!

Ichi : THE FUCK YOU WANT?! THE PRESSURE OF THE SIGNING EVENT YOU SET UP FOR ME IS ENOUGH TO SEND ME TO HELL

 Oso : I got a rose

Ichi : what?

 Oso : ka-- ka-- Karamatsu kun gave me this…

 Ichi : …………serious?

Oso : SERIOUS!!!

 Ichi : wait!! OSOMATSU NIISAN CALM DOWN!

Oso : *boeh*

Ichi : CALM DOWN AND HEAR ME OUT!!

 Ichi : you know, I’m a shoujo manga author that’s why I’m pretty familiar with flower language

Oso : o-- okay

 PAGE 19

Ichi : do you know the meaning of a single rose?

 Oso : I don’t

 Ichi : do you wanna know?

 Oso : no

 Ichi : WHAT ARE YOU BEING SCARED FOR! PAY ATTENTION!

Oso : NO!! YOU’RE MAKING THAT FACE SO IT’S GOTTA BE SOMETHING BAD RIGHT?! ICHIMATSU YOU IDIOT! YOU DARK! NOOOO~~!!!

 Ichi : love at first sight

 Oso : …..what?

 Ichi : a single rose means…

 PAGE 19

Ichi : “love at first sight”, osomatsu niisan

 Oso : *furiously blushing*

 Oso : ha, haaaaa~~~?!?! NO NO NO THAT’S GOTTA BE A LIE!!!?!?

Ichi : this is some content! Some progress? Right?!?! Yes~~!!!

***

***

PAGE 20

Kara : I finally gave it out~~~

 Kara : I feel so happy he actually accepted it that I could fly. But he probably doesn’t understand its meaning….? But, if he knows what should I do….? No, even if he knows it shouldn’t mattered… But I feel like it’s too soon

Kara : …but

 Kara : it has been my dream since a long time ago

 Kara : To give a flower that is attached with my feelings, to the person I love

 Kara : People who bought flowers from this shop, they all put their feelings in those flowers. When they’re happy, when they’re sad, when they want to encourage someone…

 PAGE 21

Kara : I envied them. I thought that someday I want to feel that way about someone too.

Kara : hnggh *throb*

 Kara : daaammnn isn’t that person superrrr cute?! Red flowers really suits him~~!! Maybe I should give him carnation next?

 Kara : *ha*

 Kara : I have to stick to the flower he requested. If I beautifully arranged it, I’m sure he’ll be glad

 PAGE 23

Oso : wow!! It’s great~ splendid! So beautiful! That’s what I call a pro~

 Kara : thank you very much! I did my best into this! So that I can make you happy, Matsuno san!

 Kara : But as I thought, the color red suits you better

Oso : eh? Me?

Kara : that’s right, Matsuno san

 Kara : Please allow me to give you another gift. For your charm overshadowed an even the most beautiful flower…

Oso : Karamatsu san…. *the sound of Osomatsu’s ribs breaking*

 Kara : hmm?? What is that breaking sound? Heh, my imagination is pretty wild, huh?

Ichi: No it’s overused and actually really lame!!!!!

 Kara : anyhow, I will do my utmost best *sneeze*

 Kara : heh, Matsuno san must be talking about me right now

***

***

PAGE 24

Naration : previously on this manga, he got a gift that means “love at first sight” from his crush

Ichi : There’s no way a person that works around flowers doesn’t know their meanings? He has a thing for you, I tell you!

Oso : that’s what he said but…. Isn’t it to good to be true?! Well I never thought that he hates me or anything, but to think that far….?

 Co-wrkr2 : Matsuno saaaan~!

Oso : YEASH!

Co-wrkr2 : The florist is here!

 Oso : o… okay~! HE’S HEREEEE

 Oso : Ah~ I can’t bear to look at his face right now… come on, pull yourself together

Poster : MINETTE SENSEI SIGNING EVENT, TODAY!

 Oso : sorry for the wait~

 Flo : hello, I’m from Flower Akatsuka

 Oso : hu-- huh?

 Flo : Let’s see… you ordered these flowers, right?

Oso : excuse me…

 PAGE 25

Flo : yes?

 Oso : the usual shopkeeper… um, that Karamatsu san…

 Flo : oh, I’m sorry! He should be the one who’s doing today’s delivery but he’s not feeling well at the moment

 Oso : eh?

 Flo : after making this flower arrangement his condition dropped, so he’s resting right now. I’m a temporary part time worker that helps him sometimes. I’m really sorry he couldn’t make it.

 Oso : oh no, that’s fine

 Flo: The truth is he wanted to come and deliver this himself. He said “because I already poured my heart into making this!”.

 Oso : I see…

 PAGE 26

Oso : it’s…

 Oso : really beautiful…

 Flo : I think he will come back to work next week, so if you want, please stop by! Thank you very much for the purchase!

 Oso : …..

 Ichi : that’s too bad

Oso : *startled*

 Ichi : I was looking forward to meet this so called “karamatsu kun”~

Oso : he’s not feeling well… I wonder if it’s a cold

 Ichi : maybe? I mean, this is season makes you prone to colds

Oso : ….

 PAGE 27

Ichi : are you worried?

Oso : that’s… well… That’s because I never saw him sick…

 Ichi : According to shoujo manga theory, in this situation you must pay him a visit and bring him stuff. This is an event that will surely shorten the gap between you two. But, you don’t even know his address right, niisan?

 Oso : ….know

Ichi : what?

 Oso : I actually know his house…Karamatsu kun’s house...

 Ichi : what….?

 Ichi : Niisan… No way… You’re a stalker? That far? That’s really creepy…

Oso : NOPE! YOU’RE WRONG!!!  NO NO THAT’S WRONG! I HAPPENED TO KNOW ACCIDENTALLY!

 PAGE 28

Oso : one day I just… Happened to see Karamatsu kun going home, then I got so overwhelmed and the next thing I know….

Ichi : that’s called a stalker

 Oso : BUT THAT’S ONLY ONE TIME! AFTER THAT I’M DOING IT MODESTLY!

Ichi : then why don’t you go?

 Oso : what?

 Ichi : why don’t you go bring him something?

Ichi’s face : “REPORT PLZ”

Oso : his face is too easy to read

 Oso : but isn’t this too meddlesome…?

Ichi : don’t worry don’t worry, just trust the theory!

Oso : But if he report me to the police I can never live it down

Ichi : report? you’re right…

 Ichi : welp, maybe you can’t but… I’LL THINK OF SOMETHING SO IT’S FINE!

Oso : What the heck have you been blabbering about?!

***

***

PAGE 29

*At Karamatsu kun’s house*

Oso : I DID IT SOMEHOW

 Oso : the nameplate is right. Even for me this kind of behavior is really creepy…

Oso : I mean, if I were him I’d be so annoyed if someone doing this when I’m so tired and in the middle of my sleep… Ah but, I’m already here…

 Oso : ……

 Oso : ah~~!! This is soooo unlike me!!  LET’S JUST GO WITH A BANG!

 Oso : HERE GOES NOTHING!!

*ding dong*

 *dragged feet*

 Oso : *doki doki doki*

 PAGE 30

*click*

Oso : DOKI

 Kara : yes…?

 Oso : goo-- good evening

 Oso : …..

 Kara : HUH?!

Oso : UM!! THIS IS!! I’m really sorry to come here so suddenly!

 Oso : how should I put this…. Um….  I’d rather you don’t ask me the reason why but I heard that you’re sick and sleeping in so I just came here without thinking… or something…

 Kara : ……what? A dream?

Oso : it’s not a dream…

 PAGE 31

Kara : Oh… Even though I thought my temperature has gone back to normal, the fever comes again…? Or is it my hot heart that’s continuously thinking of him creates a convenient vivid hallucination… *doki doki*

Oso : Somehow you look fine? Thank god~

 Oso : I rarely got sick so I don’t really know what to bring. I bought you pudding and Pocari Sweat

 Oso : Please take this if you want

Kara : ah, yes. Thank you very much

 Oso : well then, I’m sorry I dragged you out even though you’re not feeling well

Kara : eh? You’re… You’re going home?

Oso : yup!

 Oso : I mean, you know… I thought I could see you today but I couldn’t…? So I thought I just wanted to see your face even just for a while

 PAGE 32

Kara: *stabbed*

 Oso : Just kidding nyahaha~ Ah, but please let me tell you this real quick, about today…

Oso : thank you for the flower

 Oso : they’re really

 Oso : beautiful….

 Oso : w-- what…?

 *door closed*

Kara : …….did you come because you’re worried?

Oso : …. Yes

 Kara : I wanted to see you too, Matsuno san

Oso : Is… is that so….?? GYAAAAAA HIS VOICE HIS VOICE HIS VOICE!!

 Oso : TOO CLOSE!! MOREOVER…

 PAGE 33

Oso : ISN’T THIS WHAT I SAW IN ICHIMATSU’S MANGA?! KABEDON!!!! OR MAYBE DOADON?! IT’S SHORTEN THE GAP BETWEEN US ALRIGHT~! IT’S WAAAAY TOO CLOSE!

 (t.n: kabe= wall, doa=door)

Kara : *huggies*

Oso : ah

 Kara : I’m sorry, I’m still kinda dizzy and woobly

Oso : SERIOUSLY?!

 Oso : then go back to bed, if you don’t sleep it won’t go away. I’m going home too anyway

 Kara : don’t wanna

Oso : what…

 Kara : come with me, Matsuno san

Oso : No, I really shouldn’t…

 Kara: didn’t you come because you’re worried about me?

 PAGE 34

Kara : I’m really happy… Can’t you stay? Just for a while?

Oso : A-- are you kid...?

 Oso : okay I get it, but just for an hour okay?

 Kara : okay! Yaay!

 Oso : you… that’s not fair

Kara : can I eat the pudding?

Oso : sure... you can eat as many as you like…

***

***

PAGE 35

Oso : are you sure it’s okay to stay up?

Kara : I’m pretty sturdy and the fever has gone down anyway

 Oso : we’re sitting next to each other now… we’ve been waaay to close since then it’s driving me nuts

Kara : ah, this is really tasty!

 Oso : for real? I’m glad! I really like this so I thought I should bu…

Kara : *stare*

 Oso : ……..o...kay....

 Oso : should I eat one too…?

 Kara : Matsuno san

Oso : YESH!

 Kara : I heard from my part timer who delivered the flower, he said that the shop keeper who wear red glasses is worried about me

 Oso : o-- oh….

 PAGE 36

Kara : But I never thought that you’d pay me a visit too

Oso : a-- about that, that’s…

 Kara : why do you care that much about me?

 Oso : !!

 Kara : ah, sorry… That’s badly put…

 Kara : When I got the work request from you, even though I know it’s for the author,

Kara : the truth is you’re the only one I was thinking about while doing the arrangement

 Kara : um… I… gave you a single rose…

 PAGE 37

Kara : and I feel somewhat satisfied with that… But it’s not good enough, I have to say it to you with my own lips…

 Kara : there’s something that’s been bugging me…

 Kara : you might have found out already because of that rose but I

 Kara : I…..!!

Oso : .....

 PAGE 38

Oso : ……..? Karamatsu ku…

Kara : *wobbly*

Oso : WHAAAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING!? WAIT…

 Oso : that was close… aren’t your fever getting worse?

 Oso : I told you it hasn’t gone away yet! Sheesh…

 Oso : I’m barging in your room then

 Oso : Haah… I’m glad we’re inside your house… I wonder if your blood pressure went up because of tension and excitement….

Oso : but you know, my heart is going all over the place too nyahaha~!

 Oso : …..

 PAGE 39

Oso : *smoking*

 Oso : that was deeeefinitely a confession!!!!!

 Oso : Now to think of it! As soon as I’m alone with him the atmosphere turn into something dangerous! The feeling of the event that’s going to come was overwhelming!!

 Oso : But I didn’t think that you’re that serious, Karamatsu kun. Do you seriously like me?!?! This is baaaaddddddd

 Oso : I’M REALLY HAPPY

 Oso : but he hasn’t confessed yet… maybe he’s not but I’d like to think that he would….

 Oso : *sigh*

 PAGE 40

Oso : Should I just wait? Or I wonder if it’s better if I’m the one who says it?

 Oso : somehow, I feel like you saw right through me

 Oso : when you gave me flower I was smiling like crazy, eventhough we don’t have any special relationship I went ahead and come to your doorstep, my heart exploded with that awkward hug, and I always turn red when the atmosphere is nice…

 Oso : what am I? A teenage girl?? Well but it’s only just now…

 Oso : but I guess it’s the best if I don’t say it? Probably you want to be the one who say it right, Karamatsu kun…

 PAGE 41

Oso : what a cute sleeping face

 Oso : *looks around*

 Oso : Get well soon *peck*

 Oso : I’ll…. I’ll go ho…. What the hell am I doing just now… seriously it’s bad…

 Oso : well then, see you later Karamatsu kun

 PAGE 42

Oso’s letter :

Thank you for today!

I put the keys in your mail…

Line : Oso05

08 XXXX XXX

See you Next week! ^_^

Osomatsu

 Kara : It’s… IT’S NOT A DREAAAAM~~~~~!!!!! I feel like I’m guilty of doing something embarrassing when my health is butchered but I got his contacts as a result!! Yaaaaay!!

Author : the continuation of this probably will be in a book! Please read it if you can! Even though it ends like this, it’s actually not done yet!

[buysomecheese]

I posted 3,033 times in 2021

190 posts created (6%)

2843 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 15.0 posts.

I added 206 tags in 2021

#sunny - 74 posts

#(/gen) - 23 posts

#(/pos) - 16 posts

#cheese - 15 posts

#(/p) - 15 posts

#aromantic - 14 posts

#chuckle sandwich - 14 posts

#chuckle sammy - 13 posts

#(/j) - 11 posts

#cw cussing - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#our mom once we get an autism diagnosis: you think and process things slower you're more childlike than the other kids your age you can't do

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The fact that I’m probably not ever gonna be able to see... clearly? That I’m never gonna see things normally- without a field of static over everything, without seeing lines and flashes of color when it gets just a little bit too dark, without intense pain when looking at anything brighter than my phone on one of the lowest levels (pain that’s bad enough to rival my sensory issues with sunglasses), without negative afterimages that last at least twice as long as they should- really fucks me up sometimes. Usually, I don’t mind, and honestly a lot of the visual phenomena is kind of cool. But then it hits me and it starts to hurt my soul. I’m such a visual person but I won’t ever experience “normal”, it’ll always physically hurt me to watch movies, to be outside without sunglasses/shade of some sort, to look at the fucking walls and floors in my house.

38 notes • Posted 2021-07-04 23:50:37 GMT

#4

Watching yourself switch from relating more to Dan, to relating more to Phil,,, really a trip

42 notes • Posted 2021-06-22 01:27:10 GMT

#3

I cannot WAIT for the day I can just. Sit here. In just boxers and actually feel comfortable. I hope it’s a lot closer than I think

56 notes • Posted 2021-08-07 19:33:49 GMT

#2

So uh

Chuckle Sandwich high school (or college honestly) AU

Where uh where Ted is in the marching band, Charlie is on the football team, and Schlatt is in the color guard

(Yes I am projecting onto Schlatt because he’s big Gender Envy and it helps with dysphoria)

(Ik ik Ted was a theater kid but. C’mon. Marching band!Ted? Yes.)

Fun shenanigans ensure

(I’d write/draw this myself but uh I can’t write or draw for anything so hopefully someone else likes it?? I want it to exist please lmao)

61 notes • Posted 2021-09-02 23:25:20 GMT

#1

Me, laughing at this picture in my brain: haha tall man fuckin talk ass can’t go in the store tall man ahahhah

The voice in my brain: yeah but you love him

Me responding in my brain: Yes. Yes I do he is favorite puppy and I wish to Look Like Him.

88 notes • Posted 2021-08-18 17:21:28 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Eurovision 2018 is many Eurovisions being called back to in one

2005

Just a reminder that a Hellenic banger has won that year (and Eleni Foureira is an Albanian-born Greek whereas Helena Paparizou is a Swedish-born Greek :ooooooo could this mean Albania will do mediocre in the final just like Sweden 2005???), and there was at least a rock act that... at least finished 10th? Could this repeat

2006

Of course because of the harder rock entry that was sent to Eurovision, Hungary. And somehow bookies love us this year, so there’s a possible potential of this scenario repeating too if we believe in coincidences actually repeating themselves. I propose Ukraine 2nd because of a man emerging from piano as opposed to a ballerina, Sweden 5th because... you know... and since Montenegro didn’t qualify, there’s no way a token Balkan ballad will finish 3rd, sorry guys. :’(

2008

But then again, Cyprus is hailed to be having “the new Ani Lorak”, and wouldn’t it be just the tea if she ends like... 3rd or something? Ukraine could get 2nd again just for the trolololololo, or even 1st because... Mélovin’s a Slav, and that year a Slav with a... rather interesting way of singing words in English has won. Worth noting he was barefoot though, so this opens up to have Lithuania and Hungary getting ready for something...

2010

You know the elephant in the room. Hungary might be as well 2nd (and might be as well last for all we care and tied with someone for qualification) or even end up like Teräsbetoni (which, as you all know, were somehow a bit too underrated. I hope it has nothing to do with the fact they sang rock music in their beautiful Finno-Ugric mothertongues, just like AWS). All possibly thanks to jury (hey they did have maNga lower than quite an amount of acts, but still in the top 10 I assure you!!) Also the Danish entry being a Melodifestivalen reject. Too bad Sweden still qualified :’( >:)

2011

A rollercoaster in every aspects of itself. No one knows where juries and televote will be geared towards. Will the diaspora votes prevail now that a large part of ex-Soviets are missing out of the final and there are at least some in that could snatch (that being Lithuania, Moldova, Ukraine and Estonia. My personal pick is Moldova because Kirkorov himself says that a vote for Moldova is a vote for Russia as well xD). As the Turkish diaspora was gearing towards Azerbaijan now that Turks were out of the semi. And since Italy is now underestimated thanks to being drawn after a banger, their emerging would be a surprise.

2012

Oh IDK I just had a feeling to mention a lot of ties between the past Albanian entrant and the current one because of the current one indeed covering Suus. Top 5 is, however, a wishful thinking because “Mall” isn’t a headscratcher song that sounds sorrowful but is not understood because of the waaaaaaailing (sorry but I had to bring Hungary on to this as well, no one understands what’s it about because of the language, a bit of a headscratcher because of the screeeaaaaaming and a song about... actual death??? Wouldn’t you want to scream after losing someone too, through tears at least?), “Mall” is mostly longing for hope and the close one to come back because (s)he can. And it sounds rather... cheerful, which is why I love it so much to the levels of Naviband’s one. Speaking of which, it’s a year my #1 was predicted not to qualify by a lot of authorities, but it FUCKING did and was announced late-ish, so of course I was happy for Malta 2012 and Albania 2018 qualifying against all the odds! ^^

2013

Lots. I was a 13-year-old who foolishly believed in the victory of Sweden with deeply knowing that “yeah Denmark’s gonna win this, it’s the bookies fav, what’d you expect?!” and therefore there’s no chance for a host victory. That’s not the same I feel about Cláudia Pascoal, and I even wonder WHY people think this could also be a surprise winner! No. Instead I want my 4th place to win and I know it won’t because there are now bigger cheers for other few songs?!  A dance song from the radio already tanked this year (Cascada kind of underperformed and sorry not sorry but the dress was ugly imo, Lukas Meijer kind of recreated the bad vocal vibes he had in the national NF and esp. in second chorus). Hungary doing at least a “Kedvesem” type of result would be just great enough, because oddly enough, AWS were placing 4th in jury’s result for to make A Dal’s superfinal and so was ByeAlex. Bizarrculous? 0_0 There might also be a theory for me to have Albania 2018 and Lithuania 2013 attached (more like Hungary 2018 could relate to Lithuania 2013 because the lead singer of the former was shown drinking a lot while the latter looked like he was already drunk) because... we had to have a token chill guy with a rock-sounding song through and they could also do really badly. For this one, don’t mind me.

2014

The odds were different before rehearsals, so they are this year as well. Austria and The Netherlands rushed up to the to-o-op (i x my heart haha lol) after rehearsals and during the heat of dress rehearsals, and so does Cyprus, Lithuania, Ireland (can you BELIEVE Ireland was 3rd in the odds after being 17th in the QUALIFICATION odds?! Yeah, things bizarre. #gaypower), Moldova... etc etc. No token Sammarinese qualification unfortunately. And Lea Sirk had to do something with qualification of her nation, sweet.

2015

Guess a fellow hero who got drawn 13th in semi 2... >:) Yeah, believe it or not but apparently the name Örs (the name of the AWS frontman) has to do something with the word “hero” in Hungarian, or so I was told by a friend, but that also could be a quite skewered meaning of that word because the actual meaning of that word in Hungarian is “hős”, so it’s not an exact meaning of the name but somewhere up there (also might mean “man”). Fun fact, according to one Hungarian chronicler, one of the seven chieftains of Hungary was bearing that name (the other chronicler of the name Anonymus (I shit you not) thinks it was Ond). Also, Italy is drawn last and gets quite the following on Tumblr, so if they don’t win, that will mean that some will definitely regard this song as the true winner of 2018, just like they’re doing it to Il Volo (and some doing the same to Sergey in 2016 and Francesco in 2017). Token rock act, this time again from a Finno-Ugric nation, except that this one smelled like a delibarate failure because the song is short, there’s no melodic singer per se and the band was made up of mentally disabled middle-aged men who’re already a cult in their homeland. Not to mention that their 3 letter acronym, PKN, always had the same meaning ever since creation, but there’s a whole more lot you can do with AWS and the number of it keeps on growing, and even the band itself acknowledges it. There’s a wheelchair girl from a Slavic country too, but she got impacted in an accident while Yulia had that disease somewhat since childhood. Montenegrin balkan ballad. And a song titled “goodbye” (in another language and also did way better than this year’s “goodbye” title that was sole, the other one has another word in it so yeah). San Marino sent an almost delibarate failure (as Switzerland were the actual last placers in semi) by pairing two people. I thought I could think of more but my mind is dry

2016

Guess who else just got the 21st draw in the final~ okay I need to cut this more often. Israel was also hailed as divisive, and even if their momentum has faded, maybe they will win afterall? Except that it is more positively divisive than negatively. Also, lots of Bergendahlizations (well not that many but Greece and Bosnia & Herzegovina were finally out of the final for at least a year, and Greece can add a second year out while Czech Republic can add a second year in! Will this be the new Finland-Cyprus?).

2017

Madame Monsieur/Metamoro are the new Salvador Sobral maybe (with their acronym letters being similar like MM MM SS)? Netta is the new Francesco Gabbani? Sennek is the new Blanche during rehearsals, yeah that’s for sure, except that Sennek flopped and Blanche’s fragility was rewarded by televoters en masse. Also, Macedonia got a good modern song whose chances was smashed by the poor performance and the draw 3rd wasn’t so cursed afterall, at least in semi 1! ^^ Another Maltese try-hard artist in their NF finally went to Eurovision and failed to qualify. Guess that’s all I can think of at the moment? (Also a country with red-green colors on flag won last year, but there’s a drill that their coat of arms is on their flag too, which has yellow on it... :’) )

[inspirationallyinsane]

January 7 2021

Hi Tumblr. I'm writing tonight because I'm feeling reminiscent I guess. I've had a lot on my mind for the past few days and I've been going over my life and I just felt like I needed to talk to someone about it. But no one is interested in your life story, I know I wouldn't be. So here I am, writing it out instead. I think that I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I used to say that I didn't have any regrets in my life because everything that I have done has led me to become the person that I am, and I generally like the person that I am. Now, I'm not so sure that it is enough; the idea that just because you like who you are now, you don't regret your past. I think I might regret a lot of things. High school was a weird time for me. I can't relate to the person I was anymore. Tonight I was reading through old text threads and over the last week or so I've been reading old posts on my blog and I just... I can't remember that girl anymore. I was so obnoxious, so oblivious to what real struggle was. I was obsessive about something as petty and ridiculous as love. My main concern, my main focus at any point in time, was love. And as odd as it is, as much as I put into love, I was horrible at it. I chose the wrong person time after time. And I didn't see the value in the right ones. I always thought that there must be something more, there must be something better. I really didn't know. I feel like maybe I know now. It doesn't make it easier. But, I think it might make me less obnoxious. I'm so tired, Tumblr. I'm so tired. You know, when I was at Chapman, I wrote "letters" to Austin every day. I wrote to him because it made me feel like he was there with me. But he was awful. He was a pompous asshole who, in all likelihood, could've given two shits about me. Yet I glorified him. I felt like he could solve my problems. I think that part of the reason that I felt so out of place there was because I was stuck with him. I think it would be different now. I wouldn't write him letters. And in High School, all the shit with Emry. I look back on the way I felt about him and I grasp at straws as to why. Going into HS I had hoped that he would be there, and I had hoped that we would have some sort of connection because I felt that we could have such a beautiful romantic story. You know, meeting in kindergarten and playing house every day, not seeing each other for years and years, and then reconnecting in HS and finding real love. It'd be like a movie. But beyond that?? He wasn't the type of person that I truly would want to love. It's so stupid. I wasted four years of my life being miserable, and a lot of it was because I was pining for someone who, in my true heart, I didn't care about. I was chasing a story, an ending that would make sense to me. And I guess, I'm a writer so... of course I'm going to chase the story. But now? Now that perhaps I'm not a writer, I can't see the story anymore. Not with Emry. Not with anyone. Life is grayer now. There are no perfect moments with the perfect guy who suddenly makes you see color. He doesn't appear in your life and solve all your problems and make you feel any less anxious or depressed. You don't suddenly realize you have value or you're beautiful just because some dude is interested in you. There is no perfect ending, there is no fairy tale, just a series of choices you have to make every day. To be honest? I don't care about that story anymore. My romantic story. I don't particularly care about my professional story or my personal story either, but maybe more so than the romantic one. I don't daydream as much as I used to, but when I do, it is no longer about locking lips with the perfect man, it's about finding success and happiness in my career. About finally finding satisfaction in what I do. I have a specific one in which I give a TEDtalk about retiring early. I like that one. I want to have that someday. I regret the way I acted before. Even the way I was after I came back to Medford and I was hanging out with Zach and Alec and those guys. I just. I feel sad for myself. And the craziest thing is? I didn't enjoy it. I acted that way because I thought that their validation would somehow improve the way that I saw myself, or the way that the world saw me. Reality is though, no one fucking cares. No one cares about one person's opinion of you. I live in a world now where no one knows the people I went to HS with. My FA partner could give a rats ass if some random kid from my HS thinks I'm cool. But even a short two years ago, I thought that it would always matter. That their opinion of me would ALWAYS matter. Forever impact me. It's just not true. I want shit to be different. I want to go back and make it different. I want to re-meet people. I want to make things right. I want to change the outcomes. I want to change the way I spoke and change the way I treated people. I want to change the way I held myself. It is occupying so much space in my mind right now. I need to change it. I'm going to try to change it. And maybe part of changing it is just being better now. Holding myself to a higher standard and focusing on myself. Becoming the best person I can be. It's funny because I am 22 years old and I feel so ancient. I feel old af. And everyday I am feeling older. I yearn for boring. I yearn for normalcy. For something less dramatic, something easy. I want a summer rain. I'm so tired of the flood. Goodness. Sometimes I wish time were different. Because, it is 3:16am and now is the time when I want to pick up the phone. But I feel so lethargic during normal people hours that I don't do it when I can. Having this work from home job is really messing up time for me, I think. I've always worked better at night and now I can do all my work at 3am and then just clock in at 9am and take a quick nap before I have to do any training. Eventually when I'm not training I can just work at night and it won't matter. As long as I get everything done, it doesn't matter. I hate texting. I honestly, I hate it so much now. Like if I want to talk to someone I'd rather just call them. But I feel like maybe that is sort of frowned upon socially now? I guess part of getting older is maybe not caring so much about what is "frowned upon" as far as communication styles go. You know, I was genuinely worried about deleting my instagram and my facebook. I was concerned that it wouldn't be socially acceptable. And new people I met would think I was weird or people wouldn't care about me as much if I wasn't on those sites. That's so dumb. Haha. I don't miss it at all. And now, if I want to see what someone is up to, I actually have to call them. Which?? Is so much better? Not that I have done that but in theory I think that should be the way that it is. If someone is on your mind, contact that person. Right? I hate that now it's like, if you think of an old friend and you think 'I wonder what that person is up to', you just go on the internet. I think it'd be better if people actually talked to each other. Maybe it's just that I want more people to talk to. Maybe it is that I'm right though. And talking to someone is significantly more enriching than looking at photos or posts online. Who knows. I've become a technology skeptic. I can't get behind the smart home stuff, and recently I got a new phone and I miss my old phone. Lowkey, if I didn't have my anxiety apps and stuff on my iphone I would seriously consider a flip phone. I'm tired of texting and I'm tired of feeling like I should always be connected. I don't know. Maybe that doesn't make sense. I don't know why but I guess right now I feel like I'm at a crossroads. It is odd because really, I'm not. I have my career and I have a home and I'm doing well. But there seems to be this impending choice. A choice I'm going to have to make, perhaps a choice I'm making already. A choice I'm making every day. A choice not to change... a choice to make a change. It's hard for me; being such an indecisive person. I will always doubt myself. Part of me is happy in my job and with my life, part of me wants to say fuck it and go back to school and study creative writing. Part of me is happy in Eugene, and growing more happy here all the time, but part of me wants to be in Medford. Part of me wants to stay, part of me wants to go. Part of me wants to be an adult, and part of me wants to stay a child. Part of me wants to focus on what matters, and part of me wants to stream League of Legends all day and just get really into that. It's hard. What is the right choice? How do I know I'm doing what is best for me? Especially when I can look back and see so clearly that in the past I have NEVER done what is best for me. Do I go against my gut because I don't want to repeat old habits? Who in the world knows about this stuff? I don't know. I'm a naturally anxious person and so maybe I'm just overthinking life. Maybe it is much simpler and time will simply pass and choices will be made and I have to settle within myself those choices. My brother believes strongly in determinism. I think it would be easier for me if I believed in that too. But I don't. So. Maybe I'll always be plagued with doubt. Maybe it is a good thing. Maybe it is the case that reevaluating your life every once in a while will cause you to grow. I feel like I've grown. Although, it could also just be that as years pass people will change. And the idea that some change is good and some change is bad is semantics and all change is just... unavoidable. Because if the point of life is happiness, and I don't know that it is but for simplicity's sake let's say it is, am I really happier doing what I am doing now than I would be in literally any other situation? I don't think so. I think happiness is consistent and humans are adaptable creatures and so I guess maybe it doesn't matter what you do. Hm. But I said earlier that it does. That would be a contradiction wouldn't it? Oh well. I also said that I don't know so. A healthy debate with myself is justified. A healthy debate with another human being would be more fun though. Haha. Anyway. I guess that is all for tonight. I hope you are well Tumblr, I appreciate having a space to, more or less, think out loud. This was helpful for me. I missed writing. Maybe I'll do more of it~

[sambashua]

11 questions tag~ (again)

ayeeee i was tagged back by these binches and this is what i have to say i love you all these were all great questions i had a great time but we need a hard set squad name i vote either “get emma to love stray kids squad” or “god tier squad” idk man let’s do it and wonkwanhaojosh is too damn much and it messes w the wonankwan vibe that has a flow what is wonkwanhaojosh even okay any way

sister’s q’s @yongpal-i 

1. Make a 10-song playlist for your current mood. this playlist which is basically a condensed version of this playlist.

2. What vine do you quote the most? idk man you’d know better than me? maybe it’s an avacado thanks? OH FUCK IT’S I WANT TO SEE MY LITTLE BOY OR “hwhat?”

3. What do you value most in a friend? loyalty and humor!

4. If you could learn any kpop choreography instantly, what would you learn? umm legit so many you know me haaaaaaa but maybe dream in a dream by ten bc that is some lit shit... or coloring book by omg or love cherry motion by choerry bc i’ve been meaning to learn them for so long.. OH FRICK MY FIRST AND LAST THO?? i mean i kinda know all the moves but can i do them? no... idk i legit have a list of dances to learn on my phone there’s literally like 40 rip

5. If you go to your Tumblr activity page, who does it say is your “number one fan?” @s-lay-ing :D then @strawberryboo :D then @lipstick-chathao :D then @justsomekpopstuff :D so many blessed faves! but sorry i haven’t been on in 800 years?

6. What is your ideal clothing style? ummm comfy is my style but i wish i could be like.. chic comfy tbh

7. What is your favorite Snapchat filter? the one w the hearts bc i have a lot of love to give

8. What subject would you like to study, but wouldn’t necessarily want to make a career out of? (for example: I really want to learn about botany!) um all languages??? ever?? i mean they will help me w my career tho idk

9. Would you rather be constantly half an hour early to everything, or constantly 15 minutes late? i mean.. i’m always late but i wish i was that early person so yeah

10. Would you rather have a single day to spend with your top bias or a week to spend with your number 2 bias? um?? an attack?? so yes i would rather spend a day w wonu??? ofc?? but my dilemma is that if i think logically maybe i should go for jaehyun for a week? bc english?? like w wonu we wouldn’t be able to talk which would be so sad:(

11. If you could bring back any disbanded OR inactive group, who would you bring back? umMMMM WONDER GIRLS??? but on the other hand that brought us gashina sigh... maybe uniq just so you can pull yourself together tbh

jamie’s q’s @indiepoptime 

1) If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life what would it be and why? pretty u!!!!!!! bc!!!! it’s like one of my favorite songs ever? but also when you love someone that’s an ult fave for me as well.. idk man

2) If you were in a kpop group what would your group be called and what would your fandom name be? i have a vision w ideas from the minds of @strawberryboo and @yongpal-i and @lipstick-chathao okay so our groups would be BINCH and me and emma would have a subunit called SMAE... our fans would be BONCHES and specific mir stans would be mirbles thank you

3) If you could acquire mastery over ONE skill instantly, what would you pick and why? um i say languages every fucking time for these things so... i’ll say how to talk to people without looking like an idiot that’s be cool

4) First reaction if you spotted your favorite celebrity on the street? i’d probably try to act chill on the outside and then go home and cry akfdjhgfdk idk if i’d try to talk to them?? or just like?? admire them from a distance?? idk i might say hello and tell them i love them

5) First reaction if your favorite celebrity followed you on your favorite social media site? delete EVERYTHING but like also maybe i’d just like post a bunch of positive love things actually bc!! they’d actually see it!!

6) Snap your fingers and you get to steal your favorite outfit off of a kpop idol. What outfit do you pick, off of whom, and why? well everyone know i’m a hO for wonu’s let’s dance boom boom sweater i think?? wHY IS THE PICTURE SO BIG AHHAHAHAHAHAHA

also a big fan of all of chungha’s outfits from why don’t you know if i could pull them off!

7) If you were to get a painless tattoo that you could remove with the press of a button, what would you get and where would you get it? ohhh part of the reason i won’t get a tattoo is that i am very indecisive and have no idea what i’d get! but maybe something on my side or on my wrist if it was painless? bc wrists are very sensitive.. i’d get smth simple probably maybe flowers or a quote or lyrics? i’m not sure but probably colorless and minimal!

8) What is your most prized possession? maybe my computer? or my camera? i’m not a super materialistic person i don’t think but as long as i have friends and memories that’s what i care abt:D

9) What’s a YouTube/online challenge that you have always wanted to try? literally so many! before kpop i was really really REALLY into youtube ajdkghf i’d maybe try to who knows you better sister or best friend? i like all the bf ones as well but i don’t have one ahhhhhh maybe i’d do vlogmas ahahha

10) You get a guarantee that your favorite celebrity will see your social media post but you only get 100 characters. What do you say to them? i’d tell them i love them and support them no matter what they do! and that they should stay happy and healthy and their well being comes before anyone else’s.

11) You wake up in your dream room. What does it look like? LITERALLY BLACKPINK HOUSE LIKE DID YOU SEEEEE IT but i’d have big windows bc i like natural light! i’d want some nice pictures up and a rlly soft bedspread maybe w a cool headboard? idk something that looks clean and open!

emma’s q’s @strawberryboo 

1. if you had to chose one kpop stage outfit to wear for the rest of your life which would you choose? umm okay soo i’ll say jimin hopeless love just bc like damn how epic would i be all the time and also i think i’m tall enough to fill it out

i also think n.flying’s recent outfits are very fun!! and anything wonpil has worn onstage is prime

2. favorite music video aesthetic? any of loona’s mvs?? or gashina like everyone talks abt the dance but everything abt that mv is me sorry to break it to you

3. Group you are most excited for in 2018? for debut? stray kids or loona!! but also the unit and mixnine groups?? idk what’s gonna be the outcome but i’m hoping for like jbj level tier to come out at somepoint idk

4. Recommend me some underrated kpop songs/groups? um! i aways struggle reccing you songs jkdhs but i’ll rec you i’m jelly baby by aoa cream aoa isn’t necessarily underrated but the members in the subunit are! also dawon stars in the mv so i thought you’d enjoy! also deepened by brave girls i’m not sure if you’ve ever listened to rollin’ either tbh??? but that’s them doing a fun lil dp and being cute af!! um omg these are all gonna be gg tbh and i’m not even super sure what you’ve heard and haven’t heard???? so here’s a few: why don’t you say by playback (a jam) i think i love you by sonamoo (one of my fave songs ever rlly) fri. sat. sun. by dalshabet (they didn’t used to be underrated but there old mvs have nearly 5 times the amount that their new one does so?? a crime???) she’s mine by vav (tbh i love all their songs like so so much they have the best jams) 1 2 3 by b.i.g (two are on the unit my babies) woo by imfact (if you haven’t seen this video have you truly lived?) and rescue by younha (i just found this song and have listened to it a lot lately!!) k idk if most of these are considered underrated but it’s fine enjoy binch

5. If you could join any group other than your bias group who would you join and why? maybe monsta??? just bc??? they’re all best boys?? but also maybe the boyz bc so many 98 liners!! oh or gfriend bc 98 line squad and dance wow i’d have a good time idk i’ll join all the groups really

6. Favorite soloist? and some song recs? !!!! i think you know all my fave soloists tho?? i’m a big fan of hyuna, jay park and jimin/jamie park and you’ve also gotten me pretty into heize too ajkfdhdk but i’ve been really digging suran’s wine i think you’ve maybe not heard that one possibly? OH AND SAM KIM I FORGOT but i think we discussed that you listened to all his stuff too akjdfhfg my fave rn is mama don’t worry!

7. Childhood Story? (thanks Cloud) k well now i gotta think of another.. oh here’s a fun one: so when we were still potty training our grandma would give us an mnm when we used the bathroom by ourselves.. so one time i found an brown mnm on the floor of our kitchen and was like ayeee a snack and then i ate it and it was a bug and my grandma just stuck my head under the sink and tried to rinse my mouth out lemme tell you he wasn’t a tasty bug at all

8. Were you in any fandoms before you got into kpop, if so what were they? yeeeee as i said early in this tag i was super super into youtube right before kpop! it was mainly junior year i think? and senior? but um before that i was a bit into 5sos and before that i was superrr into one direction haha but tbh before kpop i wasn’t really involved in the fandom at all like i made my tumblr for kpop and i had a one direction insta (one_directionxoxoxox bitches) but i didn’t rlly talk to anyone lol and it was trash

9. Favorite Comeback/debut of 2017? uMMMM okay so comeback is gotta be my first and last not sorry abt it... and debut i’ll say pristin bc wow it was rlly a masterpiece

10. astrological sign? Myers Briggs type? Hogwarts House (I’m a Gemini, infp, and Gryffindor) cancer sun/leo rising/scorpio moon? idk what all the important ones are tbh; intj; ravenclaw/gryffindor ayeee

11. Random question but what are your favorite names? um i used to have a list of all my favorite names on my old ass ipod touch but i rlly like names they have hard i sounds like isla and lila and stuff? and boys names i like gregory and josef a lot and idk why bc they’re rly basic ajfhkd i also like more gender neutral names like grey and baguette

k i’m done and i won’t tag anyone bc i am lazy but if you wanna do it i wrote out questions here and you can answer those and say i tagged you:)