#I don’t even want to look at this again tbh but have at it

[raebiis]

I was thinking about this last night, so I’ll share the idea I had here:

Organized crime- not (explicitly) the mafia bc that’s just gauche. But their roots are the same. This is temporarily from the love interest’s POV, so I’ll refer to them as MC for now. Also, this was more meant to be a sort of ‘warning’ to the MC but they’re drawn in anyway- it gets much worse when romance is involved… tbh I just love a good toxic relationship.

The MC (who I personally imagined as Al Pacino’s Micheal Corleone- a little fanfic just for me- but to each their own) is witness to an argument between two sisters. One is the ‘leader’ and the other is… not ignorant, but also not completely informed.

The other is a recovering addict who relapsed and the leader found out about it. The leader confronts the other and there’s an ensuing argument/one sided screaming fest while the other cries and tries to shift blame.

She blames it on her longtime boyfriend (there’s history there).

It’s a mistake.

“Oh,” leader says, suddenly calm. And why does she look a little amused? “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” cries other, unable to recognize the danger through her tears.

“Are you absolutely positive that it’s his fault?” Leader clarifies. “And this is how you want this to go?”

“Yes,” other insists.

“Okay,” leader says, and leans in to press a kiss to others head, “then just rest here and I’ll take care of it.”

And other would know better, should know better, if not for the relief of leader no longer being upset with her.

It’s only when leader pulls a gun from the drawer next to her that other catches on. But it’s too late, leader has already silently ordered the goons to keep other there and out of the way.

Other is begging, pleading, but her words fall on deaf ears. Leader brushes past MC on her way out, and MC turns to watch her out of the window.

Other’s boyfriend is outside, having just exited the shed out back. He looks up at Leader and begins to smile before she raises the gun- his face hardly has time to shift in horror before-

!!!

Leader takes her time meandering back to the house, other’s wails can be heard all the way down to the lake at the bottom of the hill the house sits on.

When leader enters again, MC can feel their heart racing and they take a measured step back. But leader doesn’t even notice them.

She sets the gun aside and goes to her sister, gathering her in her arms and shushing her tears.

“It’s alright,” says leader, “don’t worry. I’ve taken care of the problem. You can start to really work on recovery, now.”

And other blubbers out something that sounds a lot like a confession to having lied. Her boyfriend was innocent?

Leader’s smile is unsettling when she pulls back and cradles her sister’s crying face (she already knew). “Don’t say that, other. Because if he wasn’t the source of the infection?”

Her thumbs press deeply into the hinge of her sister’s jaw, and her smile is long gone by now.

“That means I’ll just have to cut deeper.”

And other has a look on their face- understanding, despair, and the unconditional love of siblings forged in fire. Other knows to forgive leader is to invite more pain, but how could she not? Leader is her sister, and her sister has been by her side all these years. And her sister isn’t always terrible. Most of the time she’s kind, generous, gentle…. That’s gotta mean something. It has to make up for all the times leader is cruel.

Doesn’t it?

(And, of course, we see the same happen to MC. They’ve seen the warning signs, but leader at her best is just so charming and so loving- how could they ever not love her? Why, even in her most wicked moments leader is only expressing the depth of their unfathomable love. Leader hurts them to save them. Right?)

fucked up hurt/comfort. the person who stabbed you tends to your wound. the person who killed your loved one helps you grieve.

[bloatedandalone04]

Only You

Summary: You and Rafe drive each other crazy in every way possible, and whenever you get a little too mouthy, he has no problem putting you back in your place.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, toxic rafe, toxic relationship tbh, swearing, spanking, name calling, dirty talk, kinda cruel rafe, but he still loves you, size difference, so ig size kink, possessive rafe, back door touching, bc rafe is an ass man and i will die on that hill.

Rafe was watching you storm around his room, his arms crossed as a smirk formed on his lips. You had once again threatened to break up with him over yet another dumb fucking reason, and he wasn’t having it. He’d let you have it, though. But only for a little bit.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” you muttered as you pulled apart his bed in search of your phone. 

Your phone that Rafe had hidden in his back pocket. 

The speakers on his dresser were blaring out loud music, but he still heard you as clear as day. “I know, baby,” he cooed, and his smirk grew when you let out an annoyed scoff.

Your dress swayed with you as you looked around his room for your phone, your brows drawn together in a way that made a cute crease form on your forehead. You were so damn cute and sweet looking, even though you were acting like a spoiled brat at the moment. 

“Are you gonna calm down?” Rafe asked, leaning back against his door as he blocked the only exit of his room. “Or do I need to bend you over and make you calm down?” he added, knowing the effect his words have on you. 

Really, all he wanted to do was strip you bare, eat your sweet, addictive pussy, make you cum on his tongue, then fuck you from behind, but you were acting up like always.  

You huffed, tossing his pillows back onto his unmade bed before beginning to look through the various clothing he had on the floor. “I’m not going to calm down,” you answered, standing back up straight once you realized that your phone wasn’t under any of his clothes. “Where the fuck is it? I know you have it. Or you fucking hid it from me. Where is it, Rafe?” 

Rafe smirked at you as he watched you place your hands on your hips, and it only grew when you pressed your thighs together after not so subtly looking him up and down. 

“I want it, because I’m leaving,” you say, but your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you had hoped it would. “I’m serious. I’m leaving.”

Rafe raised a brow at your threat, a smug grin forming on his lips as he took a step towards you. “Oh really? Without your precious phone?” he mocked, reaching out to grab your chin and tilt your head up to meet his intense stare. “Listen, princess, you’re not going anywhere until we settle this.” 

You glared up at him, but it only further fueled his desire to tame your bratty attitude even more. To show you that you couldn’t live without him, like he couldn’t live without you. 

“And I don’t think you want to leave me anyway,” he continued, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip as he towered over you. “You and I both know how much you fucking love being mine.”

You cursed under your breath, your eyes narrowed as you glared harder at him, but as much as you tried to be intimidating or powerful, you both knew you were only playing it up. “I can’t stand you sometimes,” you mutter, reaching up to fist his shirt in your hands as you move closer to him. “I think I’d fucking hate you if I wasn’t already so fucking in love with you.” 

Then you were pulling him down by his shirt as you leaned up halfway, your lips meeting in a deep, messy and hard kiss. Rafe grunted against your lips, his hands immediately going to your ass. He squeezed it before lifting you up against his body, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he walked over to his bed.

He broke the kiss as he tossed you down onto the sheets, his eyes dark and needy as he reached into his pocket and pulled out your phone before he dropped it onto the floor. One of his shirts saved it from being broken as he moved to crawl on top of you, his hardness pressing against your belly as he reached down to grab your wrists. “You’re such a pain in the ass,” he muttered, pinning your arms above your head. “But I love it. I fucking love everything about you, even when you’re driving me insane.”

He leaned down and kissed you a few more times, reveling in the soft whines you let out, before he pulled away and flipped you onto your stomach, yanking your dress up around your hips. He teased the waistline of your panties before pulling them down your thighs, revealing just how wet you’d gotten for him during your fight. 

“Let’s see if I can get you to use that pretty mouth of yours in a better way,” he rasped, his rough fingers digging into your thighs as he spread them wider, exposing your wet pussy to his hungry eyes. 

Rafe dropped to his knees on the floor behind you, his lips pressing soft kisses along the dip in your back before he moved lower. He leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, and a low groan left the back of his throat at your taste. 

He fucking loved going down on you, loved how sweet you tasted on his tongue. He loved kissing you, licking you and touching you all over, and coaxing those pretty sounds from your mouth. 

Rafe let go of your thighs, instead letting his hands palm your ass again before he spread your soft cheeks and moaned at the sight of your puckered rosebud. “Fuck, look at you,” he mumbled, dragging his index finger through your folds and teasing your tightest hole. “So pink and pretty, aren’t you?”  

“Rafe,” you whined, wiggling back against him. 

Impatient, as always. 

Rafe smirked and stood back up, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. “Not so tough now, huh?” he taunted, giving your ass a firm smack that had you letting out a sharp gasp. “Still wanna leave me?” 

You whimpered and shook your head as Rafe pushed down his jeans and kicked them aside before stepping towards you again. He braced one knee on the bed as he lined up his hard cock with your core, teasing your folds with the head of his dick. “Rafe,” you whined again, and he was growing tired of your complaints. 

So he shut you up as he slid inside you, filling you up entirely in one deep stroke. “Fuck. You’re so tight,” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips harshly as he used them as leverage to fuck you hard from behind. “You’re mine, baby. No one else gets to feel this tight pussy but me. Isn’t that right?” 

You let out a needy moan that sounded like something straight out of a porno at his words, his protectiveness and possessiveness over you never failing to rile you up. “Fuck,” you moaned, fisting his sheets tightly as he slid in and out of you. “Fuck yes, I’m yours…all yours.”

Rafe loved how easily you caved and gave into him, and he reveled in the power he holds over you. “That’s right, baby,” he groaned, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. “You’ve always been mine. You always will be.”

You only got louder at that, like he knew you would, and he could clearly hear you over the music that had quickly become background noise. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you loved when Rafe said things like that, when he took control completely. 

He was fucking you hard and rough, sending your body jolting forward with every thrust of his hips. “Take it, fucking brat,” he muttered, running his palm over the reddened skin of your ass before he spanked you again. “This is what happens when you threaten to leave me.”

Rafe’s fingers dug into the skin of your hips as he leaned over your back and pressed his mouth to yours in a rough, dominating kiss that was all tongue and teeth as he claimed you in a different way.  

You moaned against his mouth as you kissed him back, the angle a little awkward and straining on your neck, but you didn’t care. “Is that supposed to make me not want to do it again?” you purred, your voice low and seductive as you pulled away from his mouth, both yours and his lips wet and puffy. “If it leads to me getting fucked like this, why wouldn’t I threaten to leave you again?” 

Rafe growled under his breath as he squeezed your red, sore ass. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his deep voice steady as he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back with little effort. “You’d love to see me chasing after you, begging for another chance to bury myself in your perfect pussy, huh?”

He didn’t let you answer him before he crawled on top of you again, pinning your wrists above your head once more with one hand as he slid back inside you, resuming the relentless fucks of his hips. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips hit yours over and over again. “But you’ll never leave me, baby. I’ll tie you to my fucking bed if I have to. You’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled back at the new position, this one allowing his cock to brush against the sweet spot deep inside of you that had your toes curling a bit. “Rafe…fuck, baby,” you moaned, pushing weakly against his hand, but he was a lot stronger than you, a lot bigger than you, so you let him keep your arms above your head. “Feels so fucking good.” you whined, arching your back in a way that had your breasts straining against the fabric of your dress. 

“I know, princess. You’re addicted to my cock, aren’t you?” Rafe taunted, his fingers teasing the thin straps of your dress. Then, with a swift tug, he ripped the flimsy material down the middle, completely ruining your dress beyond repair as he exposed your tits to his greedy gaze. Your eyes were wide as he roughly palmed and kneaded your soft skin, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple as he watched the way your chest bounced with every thrust. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. So fucking hot, baby.” 

Rafe released your wrists and sat back on his knees, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he spread them wider apart. It gave him the perfect view of your pussy, so wet for him and stuffed with his cock as he stretched you out. “Rafe…oh, God, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered as you tipped your head back on his bed. 

He grunted, his gaze locked onto your dripping core as he watched you take every inch of him over and over again. “Fuck, look at you. So fucking pretty,” he mumbled, feeling the way you clenched tightly around him. He reached down and rubbed circles over your swollen clit, your cries of pleasure music to his ears. “Mm, yeah, cum for me, baby.”

When he felt your warmth flood around him, Rafe let out a loud grunt, fucking into you a few more times before he came as well. He filled you up entirely, his thrusts becoming less intense and more shallow before he leaned over you, making sure not to put all his body weight onto you.

You both looked debauched and wrecked as Rafe nuzzled your neck, placing softer kisses along your shoulder as he slowly pulled out of you. He ran his fingers through your messy folds before bringing them up to your lips, a lazy smirk on his mouth. “Taste us, baby,”

You licked his fingers, cleaning them of his cum with hooded eyes before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him down onto you fully. “I can’t believe you ripped my fucking dress,” you mumbled as you ran your fingers through his messy, damp hair. 

Rafe grinned, brushing your hair out of your face before he pulled the ruined material properly off your body. “Well, it was in the way, and clearly it was one of those cheap ones, so I did you a favor,” he murmured, “No way I’m letting my girl walk around in a cheap fucking dress.”

When you pouted up at him, Rafe reached down and tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb, the argument that led to this now completely forgotten about. Like they always are. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he cooed, “I’ll buy you another one. Or multiple if you’re good.”

[pan-kojiwa]

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ➻ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧?

[Characters] ➻ 𝐒𝐚𝐞 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡�� | 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 | ??? |

[CW] ➻ SFW, stranger to lovers, whipped Kaiser, a bit ooc.

Waffle’s note -> that was long… tbh I didn’t know where I was going with this at some point… I should’ve just made a boyfriend!kaiser *sigh* well anyway, it’s still about cute aggression but with a little bit of obsession??? Also, does it feel like I tried to headcanon my way out of an 2k OS? Yes? Yh me too… it happened twice.. anyways u_u’

❦ 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫

✮ Michael Kaiser was used dealing with malice, to the point it became a second nature to him. After all, it was all he had ever known. Hurting people just came that easily. But everything changed when you showed up, and it’s still the case till this day. Michael Kaiser is mean, arrogant, and overly confident, yet all of that disappears in your presence. In fact, the first time he saw you, he couldn’t even speak. All you did was smile— yet he stood there, stunned. Your smile… so timid, but so bright… it almost blinded him. And your eyes… God. Those innocent sparkles in your eyes when you looked at him… he lost the war before it even began that day. You literally destroyed the thick walls he spent so long building around himself. Yes— the walls that hid the most ugliest parts in him, they got blown up. With just one look. And since then, he’s been craving your gaze— your attention. He’s drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

✮ Kaiser can be really selfish sometimes. From the first time he saw you, he knew he wanted you all for himself. He can’t help it, your entire being is calling to him. It's almost turning into an obsession at this point— and resisting the urge to be all up in your space is becoming hard. He wants to be the only person that you see, just as you're the only one he sees. Your smile when you're happy, your cries when you're sad, your rosie cheeks when you're being shy. Aah—He’s overwhelmed. Feeling so many emotions at once while picturing how cute you are— oh... he would love to have you all to himself.

✮ Kaiser never thought he would become a big, hopeless idiot when in love. Then again, it’s not surprising for someone who spent his life pushing people away and experiencing nothing but hate. But now, being hated, receiving or giving malice, manipulating people… he doesn’t care about any of that. Yeah— It doesn’t matter anymore. All he wants is you. You. The way his name rolls perfectly on your tongue like it was meant for it. The way your ears and nose turns a bright red when he tilts your chin up just to tease you. The way you always take a step back, completely flustered whenever he gets too close—he wants it. He needs it. God no— he craves it. He’s longing for a taste of your love, and he’s ready to do whatever it takes to have you by his side.

✮ Since you’re his first love, or more like the first person he’s allowed himself to love, sometimes he doesn’t quite understand his feelings. Well, he knows it’s love. What he doesn’t understand are the overwhelming urges to touch you, to feel your skin under his fingertips, to hold you in his arms, to grab you and kiss you all over, the urges to bite you just from looking at you smile… He just can’t seem to control himself around you. And he just can’t leave you alone either.

You’re passing by when someone suddenly yanks you into on of the meeting rooms. Luckily, the lights are on, so you could immediately see the face of the culprit.

“Kaiser?! What the fuck!? You scared the shit out of me!”

You quickly push the door closed, just in case someone passes by. You definitely don’t want to get caught in an empty room with one of the players.

Kaiser chuckles with a smirk as he leaned on the table behind him.

“ - Oh really, liebling? My apologies, I didn’t mean to.”

You raise an eyebrow, sceptical. Because from where you stand, he clearly did. Yet, you couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

“ - What are you doing here? Aren’t you gonna shower with the others?”

“ - Too crowded.” He replies, stepping closer to you with that playful smirk.

Your heart starts racing, and a faint blush creeps on your cheeks. You instinctively back away, your breath hitching. The door was behind you so you know you’re absolutely not trapped in the room. But with him so close, all up in your space feels like all your senses are being tickled. And not to mention how Kaiser had been acting strange lately. He’s always been a bit pretentious with everyone— even when he was alone— but now it seems like he’s paying extra attention to you. At first, you were thrown off, but the way he treats you like you were the most amazing person in the world makes you curious. Or flattered?

“ - Should I give you the key to the staff bathroom?”

“ - Oh my, I’d like that—only if you come with me.”

You blush furiously, your head dropping as you stare at your shoes, completely flustered.

“ - I—”

Kaiser grabs your chin, carefully lifting your head to meet his gaze. His gaze is intense yet soft on you. You could see his inner conflict swirling in those blue eyes, just like a storm.

“ - I know you were about to go take care of the team… He pauses. But… I wanted you all to myself.” He says bluntly freeing your chin, before taking one of your hand in his. He then gives it a light squeeze lifting towards his lips to place a soft kiss on it.

Your flustered look as well as your fluttering eyes makes him clench his jaw. Why are you making this so much harder for him? Why your little pout drives him mad like this? Why is it so hard— so impossible to resist you?

When he’s around you he can’t seem to control his emotions. So his only option left, is to let you go.

“ - If I make you stay here any longer, I might end up never letting you go.”

He tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear and then lets you out of the room, confused and heart pounding hard in your chest

✮ When he sees you, on the bench, wearing a jersey—a little too big for you— with his number and his name, his heart skips a beat. A warm feeling invading all his senses. He can’t see your expression completely from that distance, but he can definitively imagine your sweet lips silently cheering for him as well as your doe eyes, focused on him—full of anticipation for his goal. Suddenly, all he wants is to run to you— grab your head and kiss every inch on your adorable face. Yet he brushes off all this chaos of emotion it with a confident smirk, only sending a flying kiss towards you as he scores a goal for you. He was so close to ditch the whole match just to shower you with kisses.

✮ Kaiser is pretty much an open book once you get to know him. You’re completely aware of how whipped he is for you, even if he still tries to deny how much effect you have on him. The way you nervously play with your hair, or the way your fingers brush against his when you hand him his water battle during the team training— It’s almost ridiculous how it makes him go insane. So much that he can’t believe how much he just wants to hold you in his arms and hide you away.

✮ He likes to scoop you up in his arms. He always says that you look cuter that way but really, you both know it’s just an excuse to hold you in his arms. The way you circle your arms around his neck— pressing your chest tightly against his as your head rests on his shoulder. The way you hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck— oh… He swallows hard, an overwhelming warmth spreading through his entire body. He swallows again as the sensation began to migrate towards his heart. Fuck… it feels like it’s melting. He desperately wants to kiss you… to bite you… you’re so cute to the point he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. If you knew how much his heart is begging for your love right now… would you want him as much as he wants you?

✮ Kaiser always tries to mask what he truly feels with arrogance or confidence— because after all he’s “superior to all those plebeians.” So of course vulnerability isn’t something he comfortable with. He needs complete control over his emotion to feel secure. But it’s impossible with you around. And no matter how hard he tries to resist, he just can’t hide how much your cuteness affects him.

“ - Micheal!”

He turns around as he hears a very familiar voice calling him from afar—your voice. Your beautiful voice. The voice that could bring him down to his knees, even if he tried so hard not to fumble.

The cheerful tone you only use when you see him or when he smiles at you never fails to make his heart burst in flames. He can’t stay away from you, so that probably explains why his feet moved on their own, rushing toward you. And right there, you’re killing him— or more like your expression is. How can you be so cute? Your shy smile—your eyes shining with pure joy and affection— it’s making his heart swell with a softness that he sure isn’t used to—and it’s like a punch in the face.

But he can’t let you see this weak side of him. He can’t possibly let you know that he’s pathetic without you.

“ - Well, well, look who’s back to see this poor, miserable man.”

He stops right in front of you slightly leaning forward.

“ - You make it sound like I abandoned you.” You laugh softly hearing the dramatic tone dripping from his voice. But there’s something else in it—something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“ - Oh, but you did.” He grabs his chest like what you just said hurt him deeply.

“ - Without any pity for my poor soul, you left me all alone for an entire week.” You tilt your head at the tone in his voice. It was back. That sad tone—no, not sad. Sorrow? You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“ - I was sick… sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

The way your voice softened to reassure him, how you’re actually scearching for his gaze to make sure he’s okay, it must have done something to his heart, because before you even know, one of his hand is on your chin, tilting your face toward him. But his touch feels hesitant—because in reality he knows that being so close to you, feeling you skin under his fingertips— this is a risky move—but he couldn’t stop himself.

Your hopeful gaze, the way your lips parts as if you wanted to say something but didn’t—

He’s down bad. He wants to hold you, to hug you and kiss you everywhere. You’re too cute for your own good. His heart is pounding in his chest as if it could burst any minute from now.

But Instead, he simply gives you an enigmatic smile, while his fingers slowly let go of your chin.

“ - It’s okay, mein liebling, you don’t have to apologize. I’m just happy you came back to me.”

And with that, he turns away, glancing at you one last before walking away.

“ - Wait—don’t go!” You grab his arm before he can get too far.

“ - Oh? Can’t live without me already?”

You look down, nervous and unsure, blushing slightly as you bite your inner lip. And something in Kaiser snaps. Something he’s been trying—desperately—to control. He can’t stand it anymore. You’re just too fucking cute, too precious.

“ - Fuck…”

He quickly grab your face, pressing a gentle kiss on one of your cheek, then the other. You then close your eyes as you feel him moving toward your left eye, then the right one.

“ - I need you… I need you so badly in my life. I can’t resist anymore… please…”

Your eyes went wide and you feel your heart swell in happiness— you even tear up from the emotions. Without wasting any more time, you wrap your arms around his head , pulling him into a tight hug with his head resting in the crook your neck, a relieved smile on his face.

Silently, you hug each other.

✮ The way you pout sometimes, when you’re looking for him silently scanning the room with your eyes. And the way they instantly light up when you finally spot him— god you’re so cute. It always makes him want to grab you, bite your shoulder or cover your face with kisses.

✮ The way you only look at him— like the other players don’t even matter. The way you massage his shoulders during breaks to help him relax, while you completely ignore the other players— giving him all your attention. It never fails making him feel like he’s special. Your favorite. God, the way you always run to him first with that sincere and genuine smile of yours, shining so brightly on your face. You’re just so perfect in his eyes. To the point, the only way he can manage to regain control is by nearly choking himself.

✮ He likes to tease you. He noticed how much his teasing fluster you and seeing you blush and whimper like that with your adorable doe eyes when he gets close to you makes his heart explode. And he’s addicted to this sensation.

✮ The way you get jealous is so endearing to him—you’re just like an angry little kitten when fans and random people try to flirt with him. He doesn’t even look at them—because they’re not you after— still, he can see how much it pisses you off. Well it’s fine by him. He gets to have you all for himself right?

You and Kaiser are heading toward the training ground entrance, chatting about you are in such a good mood. Well— until a sudden screech resonated in your ears. Of course it’s yet another fan trying to get his attention, screaming his name and saying all kinds of bullshit about how he can “get it.”

You turn around instantly, glaring daggers at whoever said that. Violence isn't an answer. It's a question— the answer is yes. Fully understanding this quote you prepare yourself to throw hands. But before you can even take a step, Kaiser stops you with a smirk. And, really, he doesn’t fucking know where he finds the strength not to pinch your puffed up— angry cheeks. So damn pretty.

With some convincing, you finally step inside the training ground holding in hand. However, the second you’re out of the public eye, you slam him against the nearest wall, gripping his collar.

“ - When are you going to ask me out?” You hiss, frowning and lips pressed into an adorable pout.

Kaiser smirks chuckling as he tilts his head slightly.

“ - Oh, but Liebling... He then slides his hands on your hips, pulling you closer while lowering his head in the crook of your neck. You feel his teeth faintly grazing your skin before pressing a soft kiss on the same spot. You're already mine.”

[megapteraurelia]

comfortable silence — part 2.

summary | kozume kenma and gn!reader are just really bad at tiptoeing around their feelings for each other, tbh. warnings | none! just super fluff if you don't have a sweet tooth. (the barest tiniest grain of molecule of angst if you squint hard enough) word count | 1360. a/n | i still very much love kenma. i actually didn't plan on the ending but then decided to roll with it :o i hope that this holds up with what anon wanted T_T so sorry if i completely butchered it!! please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´- part 1 to be found: here.

“you forgot your book.”

the muscles in your hands locked as you were leafing through the documents the teacher had given you. you were staying behind after the last class of the day — most, if not all, of the other desks, were cleared off the other students’ belongings.

you knew that kenma was supposed to be at volleyball practice, yet there he was at the entrance of your classroom, still in his school uniform. you didn’t even hear his steps when he came closer to drop the book onto your desk, even though you were watching him shorten the distance between you.

and just like that, the air suddenly felt awkward and charged. 

you refused to look at him but felt his gaze trained on you, roving from the top of your head over your hair to your neck and shoulders, going further down to your fingers to note how tightly you gripped the sheets of paper.

you knew that if you reclined your head and looked up to the side, you’d meet the curious and vigilant widening of his pupils, the little cock of his head, his blonde-coloured hair crossing his field of vision like a curtain. 

but you also knew that if you were to look at him, you’d want the ground to open up and swallow you whole. his eyes would remind you of how he averted his gaze every time you looked at him after you had entered his personal space and kissed his cheek, of how he had grown quieter than usual. 

“thanks, i didn’t mean to...forget it,” you mumbled, fingertips caressing the paper for a change of sensation, to forget the tension in your pulled-up shoulders.

“yeah.”

he didn’t move. you didn’t move. it was embarrassing. it was intimate. 

it was the way he was standing close to you, neither of you talking; the air pregnant with even more things left unsaid than before, the afternoon sun shining through the windows, painting everything in a light that said i’m here to make memories. the opened window sent a light breeze and the clock ticked in the background, the bell chiming in harmony to signal the start of a new period, yet he made no moves to get to practice.

instead, the only thing that changed in motion was a steady blush crawling over your skin at the silent presence next to you, at the golden sheen on the paper in your hands that made it difficult to escape the golden of his eyes.

“kenma.”

“hm?”

you forced your eyes shut, forcing the words through your lips, every letter burning your tongue and wishing to be left hidden, “i didn’t mean to do that. it kind of...just happened. i didn’t mean to make it weird or anything.”

you couldn’t even mention the stupid kiss, and you don’t think you needed to. you were sure that kenma was more than capable of understanding what you meant, yet he still didn’t say anything, still close enough for you to smell him, still just standing there, hands twitching at his sides as he gripped his phone tightly yet kept it closed and turned off lest anybody of his teammates could try to spam him with calls to get his attention.

you hesitantly glanced up a little bit, seeing the open collar, the lazy knot of his tie, and just a bit higher: the sharp line of his chin, the soft caress of the tip of his hair strands, the uncertain press of his lips together — and just as quickly as your gaze was going to search his, as fast it dropped again at the reminder.

another avalanche of nonsense tumbled through your mouth and out into the world, “i mean, i was just— i don’t know. i wasn’t thinking and then i’ve already— i don’t— and i’m making this super awkward, n—ugh.”

your face was burning, teeth digging into your lower lip. there you went and made a whole fool of yourself, and would the ground please just open up and swallow you?

“uh, it’s fine,” came the response, soft-spoken and nervous, almost too quiet in comparison to the thunderous beat of your heart, so you had to look up to him if only to connect his words with the movement of his mouth. 

meeting his eyes and knowing he was studying you intently with his eyes, catching each shiver running down your back, each whitening of a knuckle, the gulp of your throat swallowing despite your mouth completely dried out — it sent another flash of mortification through you. the golden of his eyes were competing with the rays of the sun, attentive as usual.

hesitantly, you asked, “are you uncomfortable?”

“not really.”

again with that assured tone of voice, yet still carrying elusive words, evading questions and assumptions. the wind blew softly again, hugging your skin, but it made no difference to the heaviness sitting between you, didn’t blow away the expectations racking up for something you weren’t even sure existed outside of your head. 

your neck started hurting at looking up from the side, so you went back to staring at the long-forgotten documents in your hands, the book he brought to you — just another pretense, another excuse that felt safe to hide behind. 

your voice was still meek, “really?”

in lieu of an answer, he instead moved from your side to stand in front of you, leaning forward in such a certain manner that seemed so at odds to the usual lethargy he carried around. your perception was long used up to note all the tiny details and minimalistic gestures that you barely had any left to understand what was happening until it was happening. 

a timid meeting of lips and skin again. the corner of your mouth warming up at the contact, the closeness of his face, his half-lidded eyes reading you, his nose kissing yours, and then he stepped back again, one hand going up to rub his neck to relieve his nervousness. 

he took your breath away. 

kenma in normal lighting was already pretty, but flustered kenma bathed in the sheen of the afternoon glow with deep pink stealing itself on his cheeks and across his nose, eyebrows drawn over intense gold, teeth worrying his mouth was gorgeous. his voice murmured, almost sheepishly, “i guess i’ve been thinking about it too.”

you stared at him; your face in the same shade of red, breathless, heart stuttering like mad. by his accelerated quiet breathing you could only guess that the same type of adrenaline was rushing through him. 

a beat of silence, and then both of you blurting out at the same time:

“i have to go—” 

“i like you. lots.”

like a deer caught in headlights, he finished his sentence dazedly as his ears registered your words,”—to...prac...tice.”

more silence with the leaves rustling outside. more staring at each other as if blinking would make this real. more of red cheeks, red ears, red necks, red, red, red. the air was brimming with all the vibrations of emotions ready to spill over, and before you could scramble to apologise, to run away, to destroy the bud of a flower before it was even able to bloom, kenma reached out and took the book on your desk.

he used it to point towards the door, yet glanced away from you, the blonde strands falling into his eyes; his voice quiet and hesitant, “i forgot what you just said. you also forgot this book at my home. so, you have to— you— should come pick it up later. when practice is done.”

you blinked, and then nodded, “okay then.”

he left in a hurry unlike him, similar to the way you rushed away from him in search of water a couple of days ago at his house. head bowed with golden eyes studying the ground, wiping his hands on the grey pants, a small and unbelieving smile hidden behind the curtain of blonde, skin on fire, though you weren’t better off. 

leaning back in your chair, hiding your face from the world, you thought that water would be really good right now.

[buzzinrusso]

meeting the family

Based off this request !! Thank you and keep sending in more :)) And thank you for 500!!! That's just insane tbh

You had never been this nervous in your life.

It had started the moment you woke up, a deep, gnawing anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach, slowly creeping up through your chest. Every thought was a swirl of nerves, making your limbs feel heavy, and your mind running in endless circles. The day had arrived: the first official dinner at Emily’s parents’ house. You had met her family before, but this dinner was different. This wasn’t just a casual get-together—it was the first time you’d be meeting them as her girlfriend. Her serious girlfriend. And despite all of Emily’s reassurances, you couldn’t stop worrying about the possibility of saying or doing something awkward.

You couldn’t help but rehearse every potential disaster in your mind: What if they didn’t like you? What if you said the wrong thing? What if you tripped and spilled something on her mum’s lap? What if they thought you were too weird, too quiet, or too different?

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the feeling was overwhelming as you tried to distract yourself by adjusting your shirt once again in the mirror. Your stomach churned, and your reflection felt foreign to you. Why was this dinner so important? Why did it feel like this moment was somehow a measure of how everything between you and Emily would turn out? You couldn’t even begin to explain it, but the nerves wouldn’t let go.

“Em,” you called out to her, pacing around her room. “What if I mess it all up? What if they don’t like me? What if—”

Emily’s voice interrupted you softly, filled with that calm confidence she always seemed to exude. “Babe, you’re overthinking this.”

You spun around dramatically to face her. “Of course I’m overthinking! I’ve never been this nervous in my life. This is huge for me!”

Emily sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with that patient smile that always had a way of calming you. She was standing now, crossing the room toward you with a relaxed energy, completely unphased by your anxious rambling.

“You’re acting like you’re about to meet royalty, not my family,” she teased, and you couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, even though your nerves were still swirling. “They’re just normal people, love. They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, still not entirely convinced. “What if they don’t? What if—”

Emily placed her hands gently on your shoulders, grounding you instantly. Her touch was warm, reassuring, and when she looked at you, her gaze was soft but full of certainty.

“Stop worrying,” she whispered, her voice tender. “They already love you.”

The words were simple, but there was so much trust behind them, so much faith that you could feel yourself starting to believe it, just a little. “You really think so?” you asked quietly, meeting her eyes.

Emily’s smile deepened. “I know so. You’re amazing, babe. You have nothing to worry about.”

You let out a slow breath and, for the first time that day, felt a sense of calm wash over you. “Okay… okay. I’ll try.” You paused before looking at yourself in the mirror once again, still unsure about your outfit. “But what if I look ridiculous?”

Emily laughed softly, walking up to you and glancing you up and down. “You look perfect. Don’t overthink it. My family isn’t expecting you to wear a ball gown or anything.” She raised an eyebrow playfully. “Trust me, just be yourself. That’s all they’re gonna want to see.”

You sighed and nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll just be me.”

Emily leaned in to press a quick kiss to your temple, her lips soft and warm against your skin. “That’s my girl.”

---

As you pulled into Emily’s parents’ driveway, the nerves returned with a vengeance.

Your palms were sweaty, and your heart was racing again. Every step felt heavy, every breath shallow as you tried to calm your mind. You could feel the weight of the evening ahead pressing down on you. Emily reached over, gently taking your hand in hers. Her touch was grounding, steadying, and as she rubbed her thumb over your knuckles, you felt a slight calming effect.

“Breathe, love,” she murmured softly, glancing at you with a reassuring smile. “It’s just dinner. It’s not like you’re about to meet the Queen of England.”

You turned to her, eyes wide and filled with anxiety. “It’s not just dinner, Em. It’s my first impression. What if I mess it up? What if I say something awkward or—”

She laughed, the sound light and soothing. “You’re adorable when you panic, you know that?”

You groaned, leaning back in your seat and staring at the ceiling. “I’m doomed, Em.”

“Drama queen,” she teased, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. They’re gonna love you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Her playful attitude helped ease your nerves, even if just a little.

---

When Emily knocked on the door, it swung open immediately.

“Oh, finally!”

Before you could even react, a woman who was unmistakably Emily’s mum pulled you into a tight, affectionate hug. You barely had time to register her warm embrace before she pulled away slightly, holding you at arm’s length.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s so lovely to finally meet you! Emily’s been talking about you nonstop!”

Your cheeks flushed a deep red. “Oh—uh, really?” you stammered, still caught off guard by her immediate warmth.

Emily groaned, rolling her eyes. “Mum—”

“All good things, don’t worry,” her mum assured with a wink. “I promise she only says the best things about you.” She looped her arm through yours, pulling you inside as if you had been coming here for years. The feeling of comfort was immediate, and you could already feel the nervousness begin to fade.

The house was exactly how you imagined it: cozy, inviting, filled with framed photos and little trinkets. You couldn’t help but admire the picture of a younger Emily—probably eight or nine—grinning with pride on a football field, holding a trophy in her hands. It was a simple picture, but it made your heart swell a little. You could almost hear her telling the story of that moment if you listened hard enough.

Before you could even speak, a deep voice came from across the room.

“You must be the famous girlfriend.”

You turned to find Emily’s dad standing near the fireplace. His smile was warm and welcoming, a genuine look of happiness on his face. He stepped forward, hand outstretched, and you hesitated for just a moment before shaking it.

“No need to be nervous,” he chuckled, his voice rich with kindness. “We’re just happy our Emily’s found someone who makes her happy.”

“She definitely makes me happy,” Emily added, squeezing your waist affectionately.

Her younger siblings arrived shortly after, and you found yourself instantly caught up in their energy. They immediately bombarded you with questions, everything from “How did you and Emily meet?” to “Who asked who out first?” and, of course, “Do you know she snores?”

Emily protested with a flustered laugh, denying the accusation. “I do not snore!”

You giggled beside her, enjoying the teasing atmosphere. It was light, playful, and completely different from what you had expected.

Her family was so warm, so welcoming, and you felt yourself slowly starting to relax as the evening unfolded. This wasn’t some formal, uncomfortable dinner. Instead, it was like you’d stepped into a family gathering where you already belonged.

---

Dinner was filled with laughter, teasing, and stories of Emily’s childhood.

At one point, her mum started telling a story about Emily getting stuck in a tree at age eight, and you nearly choked on your drink from laughing too hard.

“She refused to come down because she was convinced she could make it higher,” her dad recalled, shaking his head with fond amusement. “Took us a full hour to convince her to jump down into my arms.”

You turned to Emily with wide eyes, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “You never told me you were a little daredevil.”

Emily huffed. “I was a very ambitious child.”

Her younger sibling, a 15-year-old girl, laughed loudly. “You were a menace.”

You laughed so hard you nearly cried. Emily shot you a playful glare before leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“If I had known my own girlfriend would betray me like this, I might have reconsidered bringing you here,” she whispered dramatically, making you chuckle even more.

You grinned at her, nudging her gently. “Liar. You love that I’m here.”

She huffed but squeezed your thigh under the table. The touch was subtle, but it spoke volumes, and you felt your heart flutter at the tenderness.

---

After dinner, Emily led you upstairs to her childhood bedroom.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit in awe as you looked around. The room was a testament to her younger years—old posters still stuck to the walls, fairy lights strung across the ceiling, and the bed that was definitely too small for two people to sleep in comfortably.

“This is where you grew up?” you asked, your voice soft as you took in every detail.

Emily grinned, plopping down onto her bed and patting the spot next to her. "Yup. This is where all the magic happened."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Magic? I don't know about that. But it’s cute."

Emily’s room was like a time capsule of her childhood—a mixture of her past interests, little mementos, and the cozy ambiance that made it clear this place had been her sanctuary. You glanced around at the tattered plushies on the shelf, the notes pinned to the corkboard, and the fairy lights still strung around the room in lazy loops. You could almost see the 12-year-old version of her lying on the bed, scribbling in her notebook, or maybe laughing with her friends on the phone.

You stood still for a moment, taking it all in. It was surreal, seeing this side of her—the version of Emily that had been a child, growing up in this very room. You turned in a slow circle, wondering what it had been like for her during those early years. It made her feel even more real, somehow, like she’d had a whole life before you came into it, and you were lucky enough to be part of it now.

When you finally met her gaze, she was grinning, her eyes dancing with mischief. "What do you think?" she asked, obviously enjoying the effect her childhood bedroom had on you.

"I think..." you paused, pretending to deliberate, "...that I’m in danger of getting buried in all these stuffed animals if I sit down. There’s not even enough room for me in here."

Emily rolled her eyes but patted the bed beside her again, an invitation you didn’t hesitate to accept. "Fine. Get comfy. And for the record, I totally offer my childhood room for cuddling. It's a privilege."

You laughed and plopped down next to her, where she immediately threw her arm around you, pulling you into her side. You relaxed into her warmth, and for a moment, the nervousness of earlier seemed like a distant memory. The evening had been so much easier than you had imagined. Her family was everything Emily had promised—welcoming, kind, and full of humor. They had made you feel like you’d been a part of their world for years.

As you settled in beside Emily on the bed, you noticed her room’s soft ambiance. The glow of the fairy lights bathed everything in a soft, comforting warmth, and you felt a strange sense of contentment. Your nerves were completely gone now, replaced with a feeling of home. A feeling you hadn’t expected to have, but there it was.

"You know," you murmured, shifting so your head rested against her shoulder, "I think your family really does like me."

Emily let out a soft laugh, brushing her fingers through your hair. "I told you so." Her voice was gentle, teasing, but there was something else behind it—a pride, maybe, or a deep, quiet affection.

"I know, I just—" You paused, your voice growing softer as you realized how much this moment meant to you. "I’m glad. I was worried at first, but they made me feel like I belong."

Emily's fingers paused in your hair as she looked down at you, her expression softening. She kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering there for a moment before she pulled away, but not without leaving the warmth of her affection behind. "You do belong, love. They like you because you make me happy. And that’s all that matters."

Your heart fluttered at her words, and you snuggled closer to her, feeling the weight of the day slowly ease off your shoulders. You hadn’t expected to feel so... content, so at ease. Her family had made you feel accepted, loved, like you were already a part of their lives without even having to try.

"I’m still kind of in awe of everything," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper now. "It’s just... perfect. You’re perfect. Your family’s perfect."

Emily chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you could feel the warmth of her smile against your skin. "I’m glad you’re feeling that way," she whispered. "It means a lot that you like them. And that you’re comfortable with me and my world."

You grinned up at her, feeling your chest swell with affection for her. "Well, it’s easy to like your family when they’re as awesome as you are."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she teased, but there was a sweetness to her voice that made your heart skip.

You snuggled into her more, letting the quiet of the room wrap around you both. Outside, the evening settled into a peaceful calm, and the sounds of distant conversation from downstairs faded as the house grew still. But in this room, in this moment, everything felt so right. You could almost imagine the years stretching out ahead of you—visits to Emily’s childhood home, holidays spent with her family, quiet nights like this one where everything was simple and warm.

And then Emily broke the silence with a soft laugh, her breath tickling your ear. "You know, I can’t believe I let you get away with embarrassing me in front of everyone with that tree story."

You lifted your head from her shoulder to look at her with a teasing smile. "Oh, come on. You were a daredevil! It’s an important part of who you are!"

Emily groaned, but you could tell she was enjoying the teasing as much as you were. She leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulled you into the kiss. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

You laughed against her lips, the sound muffled but light. "Nope. I’ll bring it up every chance I get."

When you finally pulled away, Emily smiled at you—one of those soft, full smiles that made your heart flutter. "I don’t mind. I like that you’re here. That you’re part of my life now."

The words felt like they meant so much more than just a simple statement. You could feel the weight of them, the affection, the depth of emotion in the way she spoke them. And for the first time that day, you truly believed it. You belonged here. You belonged with Emily.

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable haze, filled with soft laughter, shared glances, and moments of quiet contentment. Emily’s family eventually came to say their goodnights, but the feeling of being welcomed, accepted, and cared for lingered. You were no longer the nervous, unsure person who had walked in through the front door. You were part of something now—a family that embraced you without hesitation, and a love that made everything feel possible.

As you lay there, nestled against Emily, you couldn’t help but smile softly. Everything had gone better than you could’ve imagined, and the future suddenly felt bright. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to dream of all the memories you’d create together. You belonged, and this felt like just the beginning.

---

Emily pulled you closer as the night stretched on. The soft flicker of the fairy lights created a peaceful glow in the room, and the occasional sound of distant laughter from the downstairs mingled with the silence of the bedroom. It was surreal being in this space with her, the two of you sharing such a simple, yet deeply intimate moment. You rested your head on her chest, your hand resting lightly on her stomach. It felt like time had slowed down in the best way possible.

“I can’t believe how much your family already loves me,” you murmured, breaking the silence, your voice soft and reflective. “It feels like... I’ve known them forever.”

Emily’s hand brushed gently through your hair, and she chuckled. “You’re making it sound like a fairy tale,” she teased. “But seriously, I think they just see how happy you make me. That’s all it takes, really.”

You smiled against her chest, your fingers tracing little patterns on her skin. “Still, I didn’t expect it to feel so natural. Like I just fit into your world without any of that awkwardness I thought would happen.”

“I told you,” she whispered, kissing the top of your head. “You fit perfectly. And they see that too.”

You both grew quiet again, the contented hum of the house lulling you into a comfortable peace. The warmth of Emily’s body next to yours and the rhythmic sound of her breathing soothed you, filling you with a deep sense of belonging. Her family had embraced you with open arms, and it wasn’t just their warmth that made you feel like part of the fold—it was the way Emily looked at you, the way she made everything feel effortless, like nothing could go wrong as long as you were together.

“Hey,” Emily murmured after a moment of peaceful silence, her voice low and playful. “You know what’s something I didn’t mention earlier?”

You looked up, intrigued. “What’s that?”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “I told you about my family, but you haven’t heard any of my embarrassing stories yet. There’s a whole list of those.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, now I’m intrigued.”

She laughed softly. “Well, let me just say—there was the time I tried to bake cookies for the first time and nearly set the kitchen on fire.”

You gasped in mock horror, pressing a hand to your chest. “No way! Tell me more!”

Emily sat up slightly, an impish smile on her lips as she began to recount the story. “I was about 10, and I had this ‘brilliant’ idea that I would surprise my mum by baking cookies. But... I didn’t read the recipe correctly. The oven was on too high, and the cookies were black before I even realized it. I remember standing in the kitchen, staring at the smoke, thinking, ‘Well, at least the house is still standing.’”

You burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you did that! Did your mum freak out?”

Emily giggled, lying back down beside you. “She was more concerned about the smoke alarm than the cookies, honestly. She came into the kitchen and just stared at me, and I remember her saying, ‘Emily, you’re never baking again.’”

You snorted, unable to contain your laughter. “I can totally see that. Your mum seems like she’d be very direct about things.”

“She’s definitely not shy,” Emily agreed with a grin. “But she’s also got a big heart. She was laughing just as hard as I was once we aired out the kitchen.”

You smiled, your heart feeling fuller as you listened to Emily’s playful retelling. It was these small glimpses into her childhood, these intimate stories, that made her even more endearing to you. She had grown up just like anyone else—messing up, laughing at herself, and learning along the way. It made you feel closer to her, like you were discovering pieces of the puzzle that was Emily, and you loved every second of it.

"You're so lucky," you said softly, your fingers brushing against her hand. "Your family sounds amazing. I wish I had that when I was growing up."

Emily turned to face you, her expression softening. “You know you’ve got that now, right? With me, and with my family. They already see you as part of the crew.”

You sighed contentedly, letting her words sink in. There was something about the way she said it—like it was just a fact, a given—that made you feel truly accepted, more than you had in a long time. You didn't have to prove anything. You didn’t have to try to fit in. You just did.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice quiet but full of gratitude. “That really means a lot to me.”

Emily smiled, leaning in to kiss your forehead softly. "You're more than welcome, love."

You both lay there for a while, just enjoying the quiet of the room, the weight of the day finally lifting off your shoulders. Eventually, though, Emily broke the peace with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“So,” she said, her voice suddenly playful, “since you’re all cuddled up in my bed and I’m feeling generous, I think it’s time for one more embarrassing story. This one’s a real gem.”

You groaned dramatically, but your curiosity won out. “Oh, here we go. Hit me with it.”

Emily chuckled, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. “Alright, so when I was 14, I had this huge crush on this girl in my class. Like, I had it bad. I had the whole ‘love letters, blushing every time she spoke to me’ kind of crush, you know? Anyway, I decided to write her a note, because obviously, I was the best at expressing myself in writing at that age.”

You snickered, already loving where this was going. “Please tell me you didn’t make it too dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “You have no idea. So, I handwrite this note, and I even put a heart doodle on it to make it super obvious. Then, during lunch, I finally work up the courage to slip it into her locker. But... well, turns out, I was so nervous that I grabbed the wrong locker.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh no. Did you leave the love note in the wrong locker?”

Emily nodded, stifling her laughter. “Yeah. And not just any locker. The jock’s locker. The guy who, by the way, was the worst at keeping things to himself. He found the note, read it out loud in the middle of the hall, and—well, let’s just say that story made its way around school faster than wildfire.”

You gasped, holding your stomach from laughing so hard. “Oh my god, that’s priceless. What did you do?!”

“I spent the rest of the week hiding in the library,” Emily admitted with a sheepish grin. “But the worst part? The girl I had a crush on? She was actually really sweet about it. She came up to me the next day, apologized for the misunderstanding, and then said—‘If you ever want to try again, just make sure it’s the right locker next time.’”

You wiped a tear from your eye as you giggled uncontrollably. “That’s amazing. Honestly, you’re lucky she didn’t totally roast you.”

Emily shrugged, her smile genuine. “I learned a lot from it. Mostly about being more careful with where I put my notes and not trying to be so dramatic.”

You settled back against the pillow, still chuckling to yourself. “I love hearing these stories,” you said softly. “It’s like I get to know you in a whole new way.”

Emily smiled, her hand finding yours again, intertwining your fingers. “I’m glad you like them. I think there are a lot more to tell, if you’re up for it.”

You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the bond between you both deepen with every shared laugh and story. "I'm definitely up for it," you whispered, smiling as you closed your eyes. "As long as you promise to always be this honest with me."

Emily’s voice was soft as she whispered back, "I promise."

And in that moment, with the warmth of her presence beside you and the quiet peace of her room wrapping you both in its comfort, you knew—this was just the beginning of something

[annavolovodov]

i fear ctm is super close to wrecking lucille, cyril and rosalind. i cannot fathom a couple as devoted to their faith as cyril and lucille jumping to divorce so quickly without trying to work things out. i can't imagine the cyril of previous seasons giving up on lucille and chasing after someone else. even if he didn't want to leave poplar permanently, it would make way more sense for him to plan more trips to jamaica in response to lucille's request instead of giving up on his marriage.

and i know the whole thing is complicated because leonie wanted to leave but zephryn didn’t, and i don’t think zephryn should be forced to quit because leonie wanted out, but the way it's been handled has been awful. like ctm has kinda make cyril look like an asshole. like lucille went through a traumatic miscarriage that required medical intervention, had to deal with rising levels of racism at her work and was close to committing suicide. when she went back to jamaica he visited her a handful of times AT BEST instead of staying for any extended amount of time and supporting his wife while she was seriously ill. when he did eventually go on a lengthy trip to visit, her mum died unexpectedly and, again, he basically went back to london asap. when lucille asks for a divorce after all this (which tbh is understandable), he isn't willing to put in any effort to save his marriage and is more interested in how this will impact his social standing at the church. and when the divorce goes through, he already has a younger replacement ready for his next wife. truly a character assassination for the ages. they took a man who was genuinely sweet, decent and cared for others and have totally annihilated him. yet the prevailing attitude i've seen from the general audience is that LUCILLE is the selfish one for “leaving him behind” which is absolutely boiling my blood. you cannot tell me that if the shoe was on the other foot, if cyril had moved back to guyana permanently after experiencing a traumatic medical event, rising levels of racism and the community, and suffering from suicidal ideations and lucille had decided to stay in poplar, she wouldn’t have been CRUCIFIED for being insensitive, heartless and evil for abandoning her husband when he needed her most.

rosalind has only been on this show for two minutes! we've barely gotten to know her! yet we're shoving her into this disaster of a storyline!! my god, all three of these characters deserve better. hell, i didn’t even want lucille and cyril together, but what a slap in the face this has all become to the fans who were invested in their relationship.

idk. I like cyril, or at least i did before the writers decided to do this. but the show is call the MIDWIFE. it’s about the women, and I don’t like that the first Black main character of the show is essentially getting written out of her own story for the sake of her husband. that’s not even getting into the issue of the show having a Black mentally ill woman being replaced by a younger, white blonde woman.

[miffy-00]

this was a rq by anon

i saw ur artist!jean hcs OMGGG imagine a little pottery/ceramic painting date w jean im gonna cry esp w someone who doesnt do art and they think their art is lwk shit but he ADORES IT SM and swears he’ll keep it till the day he dies goodbye 😢

i just want to say i’m sososssooo sorry about this being answered so late :((

“cmon angel, don’t hide it from me.”

“it’s embarrassing, jean. especially for someone like you.”

“now what’s that meant to mean?”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

he knew exactly what it meant. certified art lover since coming out the womb. half his camera roll could be dedicated to the numerous galleries he’s visited. the other half ? candids of you ofc!small and intricate tattoos hidden on his body, tributes to his favourite artists. his loft apartment looks like the inside of a interior design magazine.

so it was only natural that jean was a pro at the couples pottery class he signed you two up for. you, on the other hand… well, you were learning. he paraded his mug around with such childlike pride, yes, it was annoying, but it was tolerable when you saw your 6ft 2 bf look so adorable. “here, i want you to have it.” he ushered the mug towards you. his toothy grin stretching from ear to ear.

“really? baby..” a downward smile curled your lips and you felt the warmth of his gaze on you. “does that mean you want mine too…?” your fingers brushed the slightly uneven surface of his mug, its imperfections being comforting. your own mug would offer no comfort. it was a disaster: horrifically asymmetrical, with strange indentations and a handle that looked ready to break at any given moment. the only redeeming feature was the faint scratch of both your initials carved into the bottom. hidden, but intimate.

“i mean it would be cool, no pressure though.” he answers calmly, but there’s no denying the bubbling excitement in his eyes. he shifts closer, “you good, angel ?”

“mhm” you replied almost too fast. your words float out like they aren’t even yours. unlike jean, you weren’t passionate about art or anything tbh. you simply floated through life, picking up gardening to drop it after a week. have a a hundred acquaintances but struggling to maintain any further. sure, it was lonely but things were just easier that way. jean somehow slipped through the cracks and became a permanent member of your life.

you stared at your mug again. it was worse than you thought. you could feel the rough texture against your palm, the weight unevenly distributed, how aware you’ve now become of how untalented you are. your bf noticed how your gaze was fixated on the cracks running along the handle. “cmon angel, don’t hide it from me.” a teasing tone mixed with genuine curiosity and reassurance.

“it’s embarrassing jean, especially for someone like you.”

“now what’s that meant to mean?” his voice dropped, a little teasing, but you could feel the warmth of his hands wrapping around your hips. fingers lightly interlinked in front of your stomach. his stubbled chin rested against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

you rolled your eyes attempting to wriggle out of his grasp, proving futile. the seconds that followed were uncomfortably long and quiet, forcing you to reluctantly show jean the mug. you turned your head to the side, far too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.

“i love it angel.”

you blinked, confused. you were expecting his usual sarcasm or even a teasing smirk. there was nothing. just soft sincerity you weren’t prepared for. “you’re lying, right? there’s no way you–“

“is that our initials?” he interjected, practically finishing your thought. his tone was light but there was something underneath it. something warm, something real.

“huh? oh yeah..” you glance down at the mug, surprised at your hearts tightening. “why do you ask?”

jean looks down at you, fingers tightening ever so slightly, “another reason for me to keep it.” he looks down at you with so much love and

“jean its–”

“if i throw it away,” his voice quieter, softer, teasing but something genuine hiding beneath. “its like throwing us away, you want that for us? ” you shook your head slowly, the weight of his words settling between the two of you. yes, the mug was a mess, but it had your initials. your names permanently etched onto the bottom, it had to count for something, right?“well then i have to keep it forever, don’t i ?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“you’re so cringy.” you muttered, rolling your eyes. even as you said it, you tilted your head back and pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling between each and every kiss.

andddd scene !

miffy speaks- i don’t even know what to say 😭😭i’m so sorry i’ve been away for sooo long i’ve literally had no motivation + everything i wrote felt awful + school but this had me me want to start again so pls pls plssss any rqs or ideas or asks lmk it will force me to eventually write bc of the guilt lol (divider by @toastray!!)

hope you enjoyed !! reblogs + comments are appreciated !!

[transfemme-shelterdog]

Something about transandrophobia.

I don’t feel comfortable sharing this off-anon or on my own account due to harassment I’ve received basically every time I even implied anything about this. But I want to talk about it somewhere.

I really don’t like how masculine trans men are treated in queer spaces tbh. I can’t go out without hearing other queer people tell me how much better I’d look in a dress or skirt, that I should try on make-up, that "if I were a real man, I’d be comfortable dressing feminine", and similar sentiments.

I’ve never been particularly feminine. When I had a choice what I got to wear pre-puberty, I already dressed more "masculine"; back then, that was fine with my mother because it was funny when I was mistaken for my brother. When I got into puberty and grew out of all my comfortable clothes, my mother went incredibly hard on forcing me into femininity so no-one would ever "mistake" me for a boy again. I’m talking shit like every single one of my bras was a push-up bra because my tits were to small from thirteen. I had to beg for summer-pants longer than those super-short barely-covering-your-ass-pants because I straight up couldn’t sit in those pants.

Now that I’m an adult and can finally choose my own clothes again, I dress masculine again. And people hate that so much. From my relatives I hear or heard all the time (some have luckily stopped now) how much prettier I looked a few years ago and shit. And then I go into queer spaces. Spaces I should be able to present how I want. And hear the same shit.

But because they add "men can be feminine, too!" I’m not allowed to say anything against it because that must mean I hate feminine men instead of, yk, "I am not feminine".

I’m sick of being treated like, idk, eye-candy. Like I have to be pretty to look at for everyone, my own comfort be damned. As if what I want doesn’t matter, only what everyone else wants of me.

"You just need to get over your childhood trauma, then you’ll enjoy dressing feminine!" Because masculine people don’t exist at all or something. And the way to "get me over" my childhood trauma is to constantly re-traumatise me and expect that to ""fix me"" and make me nicer for others to look and gawk at.

"Trans men need to embrace their femininity" all power to those who want to but there’s literally no femininity for me to "embrace". It’s never been there. All traces of femininity on me have been forced onto me; that’s not me. Shedding "my" femininity and starting to dress and present masculine again has been the most freeing thing I’ve ever done. I won’t go back, no matter how many people tell me to.

Yeah that's just gross and I hate that. I'm sorry people treat you that way Anon. Masculine trans men are just as valid as feminine ones, and you shouldn't have people trying to coerce you into being something you're not. It reeks of transphobia, if I'm being honest.

[foxgloveinspace]

I give you the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Enjoy.

(If you don’t know the og meme)

[just-a-lonelypenguin]

a tiny little zine inspired by @koddlet’s how-to! (i love your zines, they’re so fun and inspiring!) i first just folded it out of a sticky note for fun and put it in my pocket thinking “i’ll fill this in later when i have an idea” and then i looked outside and it was so. fucken dark. and here we are :) i really loved treating it as an exercise in “draw whatever comes to mind, let it be as shitty as possible, just try something” — drawing isn’t something i think of as my strong suit but little doodles sure are fun!

[deus-ex-mona]

series i’m gatekeeping from my family vs series i’m ✨ok✨ with my family knowing i’m into:

[hyruviandoctor]

I know this is in no way unique to me, but it can be really disheartening to have things you want to talk about but you know no one will care what you have to say outside of literally maybe 1-2 people

[chromoluminary]

I cannot stay at this job for a second longer than I have to this sucks so bad holy shit

[bearenjoyers]

my outfit for if i go into ng+ with this guy.

[arolesbianism]

Ok yeah I’m a little obsessed with them

[oscargender]

to knowis to be loved and to be known is to b eloved. I want transgender friends who will know me and love me in a way that cis people usually do not