#and this is the very first stuffie I’ve ever made

[zackmartin]

I have made A Friend

EDIT: pattern can be found here!

[itneverendshere]

Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing

the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀

in spite of myself - drabble

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you swore the first time was the last.

you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.

you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.

you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.

you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.

the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.

rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.

bingo.

he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.

but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.

honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.

aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?

you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.

god, look at those arms, you thought.

this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.

his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

poor thing, always so snappy.

you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.

“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.

rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.

slowly, slowly.

his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.

“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”

his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”

he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.

“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”

his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”

you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”

“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”

you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”

his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?

“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.

you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”

rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.

“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.

“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”

he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.

“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.

you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.

lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.

when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.

“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.

what a fucking bore.

you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.

as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

rafe didn’t answer.

he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.

ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”

“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”

“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.

“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”

his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.

“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”

“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”

“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”

his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.

“stop talking."

you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.

“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”

“just can’t help yourself, can you?”

you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.

his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.

“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.

you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”

“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”

his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.

and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.

rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”

[greymoonfeelings]

The Best Day

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Fem! reader

Summary: Bradley’s past year has been spent creating lasting memories with you, but tonight is about to be his favorite.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: pregnancy, cheesy ass love, mentions of angsty situations

This is for the @tgm-all4one challenge! The prompt “Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time” is very fitting as I’m still thirsting over these pilots a year later. Happy anniversary TG:M!

•••

Last summer was one of the best Bradley had experienced in a long time and things had only gotten better. A year later, he’s still feeling the effects of that summer, the endless happiness that it had brought into his life. Not only had he made up with his Mav and made a new family with the permanently stationed Dagger Squad, but the girl he met within the first week in San Diego was about to be his wife.

The first time you and Bradley met, you had been enjoying a rare day off at the beach. The sun was shining bright and the cool temperature of the ocean was a welcomed change to the heat of your stuffy office. You had been getting out of the water after enjoying a nice swim. You thought you were far enough from the group of people playing football in the sand, but you weren’t. As you wiped sand off your torso, something collided with you. You hit the sand hard, but before you could curse out whoever slammed into you, you were met with an outrageously attractive sight. The man profusely apologized, asking how he could make it up to you. The offer of a night of free drinks was enough for you and the events of that night had led you to this moment right here.

“Are you sure about this, Bradley?”

The two of you stand in each other's arms in your shared bedroom. You’re wrapped in a pink fluffy robe and Bradley is still dressed in his sweatpants and ratty old UVA shirt even though it’s nearing 4 pm.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Bradley assures you with a light kiss on your temple, careful not to press too hard on your makeup which you had just spent the better half of an hour perfecting.

“You’re not just doing this because you feel obligated?” You drop your gaze to your growing stomach, suddenly feeling very unsure of yourself. You need Bradley to want to marry you because he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, not just because you’re carrying his child.

Bradley tilts your chin with two fingers bringing your eyes back to him. There’s nothing but adoration swimming in his brown eyes. “The only reason I didn’t drop down on one knee earlier was because I thought two weeks of knowing each other was too soon.”

“Two weeks?” You ask incredulously.

“See, you agree, it would’ve been crazy. But I wanted it, honey. I am not just marrying you because you’re carrying my child, but I took it as a sign.” His large hand joins yours in covering your small bump. “That’s my baby boy in there and I want nothing more than to marry his mommy.”

“Save the sweet talk for your vows, mister.”

“Oh, just wait. I’ll have the whole backyard in tears.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chide playfully. You fully believe in Bradley’s ability to turn all your guests to mush. For all his playfulness, Bradley Bradshaw is an extremely emotional man and he always knows the perfect words to put you in your feels (not that it’s hard nowadays with your hormones all over the place.) “Get outta here so I can put on my dress. It’s bad luck to see me in it before the altar.”

“Now you’re superstitious? You know it’s also bad luck to see you the day of.”

“I’m not superstitious, but I am a little ‘stitious, so leave.” You shove Bradley towards the bedroom door as he busts out laughing at your response. When you finally get him out of the room, you shut the door and fall against it with a big smile. Hearing that laugh for the rest of your life is going to make you the happiest woman alive.

You spend the next hour getting into your dress and putting the final touches on your look. It's easy to relax knowing that Penny and Mav have everything under control with the guests and backyard set up. Bradley had put your last-minute fears to rest and now the butterflies in your stomach are from pure excitement. Tonight is about to be the best and easiest night of your life.

———

The opening notes of the Bridal March cut through the cooling summer air in your backyard. You take a deep breath and smooth down the fabric of your dress before moving forward. You begin your journey down the path of bright green grass that’s surrounded by white folding chairs on both sides, making your way toward the makeshift altar.

All your closest friends and your parents stand from their seats and watch you with big smiles. Your eyes scan over each of their faces as you walk past. You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek as you bask in the love that is palpable in the air. To think, a year ago, you had felt so alone in a new city and now you were surrounded by people you called your family.

Your eyes finally land on your fiancé who stands beside his uncle under a wooden arch decorated with yellow flowers. Bradley watches intently as you travel towards him, looking like a princess in your wedding gown. He immediately tears up at the sight of you illuminated by the canopy of fairy lights strung across the trees.

His chest feels tight from how much love he’s experiencing. Never in a million years did he think he would ever be this happy, not after everything that had happened in his life. You were like a breath of fresh air and the moment he met you, he knew things would never be the same.

You finally come to your spot in front of him and Bradley wants to kiss you right then, but he knows that’s against the rules. Instead, he takes your soft hands in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“You look so beautiful.”

“You clean up nice yourself.” You beam up at Bradley with the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen and he can’t help the wide grin that splits his face. He's never felt this giddy in his life.

Maverick clears his throat before beginning. “Today is a celebration. A celebration of love, commitment, friendship, family, and of two people who are in it for forever. I’ve never been good with words, so I will try to keep this short and sweet. Some people believe that love is determined by fate. They believe that love is a cosmic thing, set by the universe and written in the stars. I’ve always been a skeptic, but Carole Bradshaw believed in it. She believed that she and Goose were meant to be. She would’ve believed the same about you two.

The type of love that I witnessed between Goose and Carole was one that I never thought I’d see again, but I see it here, between the two of you. The love between you is genuine. It’s shown through everything you do for one another, and how you treat each other in good times and bad. You help each other grow and become better people. You encourage each other with patience and kindness. There is no doubt in my mind that your love will last for many years to come. May your lives together be long and filled with many happy memories.”

By the time Maverick is finished, you’re a mess. At the mention of your departed in-laws, you immediately started crying. You loved them so much and you never even met them. You knew just from hearing about them how much they loved each other and knowing that their best friend sees that same love between you and Bradley warms your heart.

Bradley sheds his own tears from thinking about his parents and how they can’t be here in person, but instead of wiping his tears, he dries yours. He never wants to see you cry even if he knows these aren’t bad tears.

“Now, do you, Bradley Bradshaw, take this beautiful woman as your wife? Do you promise to love her unconditionally, offer her your love, support, trust, and respect as you build your future together?”

“I do.”

Maverick turns to you. “Do you take this man as your husband? Do you promise to love him unconditionally, offer him your love, support, trust, and respect as you build your future together?”

“I do,” You promise and the genuine love in your eyes tightens Bradley’s chest.

“You may now exchange your vows.”

“Can I go first? Because I have a feeling after yours, I’ll have too much snot running down my face to speak properly.” You speak, barely above a whisper so only Bradley and Mav, by proximity, can hear. Your question elicits a watery chuckle from Bradley as he nods for you to begin.

“For as long as I can remember, I have waited for my prince charming. From falling for fictional characters to terrible teenage lovers, I eventually came to terms with the idea that the love I wanted didn’t exist. I tried to make peace with the fact that I was likely going to end up all by myself. It was the main reason why I threw myself into work and consequently took the job that brought me to San Diego. The day I first met you, when you knocked into me at the beach, I thought, ‘I am going to castrate this man…’”

Everyone laughs, including Bradley. Your reaction was on par with what they all knew about you.

“But then I looked up and saw a hunky god-like man looking down at me, apologizing and I decided that it would be cruel to deprive the world of your ability to have kids. Now, one year later, I’m the lucky girl who will be gracing this planet with the cutest babies ever.” Your hand finds your stomach as everyone laughs again.

“Bradley, you are so much more than I could have ever dreamed for. You love me in a way I never thought I would experience. You love me on my darkest days when I can’t bring myself to eat and have day-old mascara running down my cheeks. You love me when I obnoxiously belt out old pop songs on the freeway and when I hog all the blankets. You love me so much that you get up at 2 am to get me convenience store pickles because I woke up craving them. I spent so long thinking I was hard to love, but you never make me feel that way. You’re patient and kind. You take everything I throw at you in stride. I love you more than words can express, but I hope I did a good job.”

As you finish, Bradley’s calloused thumb graces your cheek to wipe away tears you didn’t realize had fallen. His eyes are glossy too and a few stray tears make their way down his face.

“That’s gonna be a tough act to follow.” His voice comes out thin, evidence of his emotional state. He then clears his throat before he begins his vows.

“I spent most of my adult life alone. After losing all my loved ones, I was hurt and angry at the world. I never let anyone new get too close because I was afraid I would lose them too. I always seemed like the most popular guy in the room, serenading the whole bar, cracking jokes, and acting like everyone was my best friend, but I would return to my empty room at the barracks feeling like the loneliest guy in the world. When I got called back to Top Gun, I thought it would be another lonely experience, but then I met you that fateful day at the beach and everything changed. I never believed in love at first sight in fact, I never believed that I would find love ever. I knew it existed, I saw the love my mother had for my father even after he was gone, but I didn’t think it was in the cards for me. The minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were my forever. You made me yearn for a future I never even realized I could have. I felt terrible for body slamming some poor girl, but I felt ten times worse when I saw it was my future wife…”

“You’re laying it on real thick,” you joke even though his speech is causing you to cry like a baby.

“You doubt me, but you’re standing here with me, and I’m about to put a ring on it.” Bradley smiles back before continuing. “I knew that if I wanted to have a shot with you, I would need to tear down the walls I had spent so many years hiding behind. The idea of opening up to you was terrifying, but you made me want to do it so badly. I wanted to get to know you and I wanted you to know me too. You remained by my side, waiting patiently and encouraging me as I slowly learned how to open myself up again. You never pushed me or made me feel like my grief was a burden. You never made me feel bad about battling old ghosts, you even helped me conquer them.

I love you more than I thought a human being was capable of. When I’m without you, I feel lost. You’ve become the best part of my day. You let me lean on you when I’m having a rough time. You never judge my feelings and you always make sure I feel loved even when I don’t feel I deserve it. You make me stronger and happier. I never knew what living meant until I met you. All those years I spent floating through life and feeling bad have disappeared. I never want to know what it’s like to live without you now that I have you. I love you and our baby boy so much. I can’t wait to build this life with you.

“God, I fucking love you.” You cry softly and Bradley squeezes your hands that have been enveloped in his the entire time.

“It's time to exchange your rings.” Maverick prompts and Jake rises from his front-row seat with the tiny silk pillow that holds two silver bands. You each take the respective bands meant for the other.

Bradley holds your left hand delicately in his and as he slips the silver wedding band on your ring finger, he speaks. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my everlasting love for you. It's a promise that I will always love you no matter what separates us be it land, sea, or sky.” Once the ring is sitting snug on your finger he presses his lips to it.

You repeat the step with Bradley’s hand, bringing the band up to his finger and pronouncing, “With this ring, you will have a reminder close by that you are always in my heart. I love you and I am yours today and forever.”

“I know the two of you have been eager to get to this part, so we won’t make you wait any longer. It's my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. Bradley, you may now kiss your bride.”

“Thank god!” One of Bradley’s arms snakes around your waist while his free hand comes to caress your cheek. He kisses you with such force it would send you stumbling if it weren’t for his arm steadying you. You throw your hands around his neck, pulling his body flush against yours and kiss him back with just as much passion, cementing your love for your now husband.

You never want to pull away, but you do for the sake of getting enough air to keep you standing upright. Bradley’s lips brush against yours softly as he whispers. “I love you so much.”

Your hands find each other as you turn to face the crowd. A loud round of applause breaks out as you throw your clasped hands in the air as a symbol of unity. The two of you had been going around as a united team for a while now, but this solidifies it.

———

Your first dance with Bradley to The One by Elton John is straight out of a movie. The fairy lights twinkling above you illuminate Bradley’s soft brown eyes which capture yours in a loving gaze. A soft smile has found a permanent place on his face this evening and you have a matching one. The two of you waltz around the dance floor with your arms wrapped around his middle and his holding you tight around your waist.

When the chorus begins, Bradley gently brings your head to rest against his chest. Your ear presses against the soft fabric of his shirt just above his heart. The sound of his steady heartbeat mixes with the very fitting lyrics. Despite all the eyes on you, it still manages to feel like you and he are the only two people in the world as you dance together.

“When stars collide like you and I, no shadows block the sun. You're all I've ever needed. Oh, baby, you're the one.” Bradley sings just loud enough for you to hear and then presses a kiss to the top of your head, letting you know that the words are specifically for you. And they encapsulate your feelings just as well because Bradley is the only one you ever needed, him and now your baby boy.

As the song ends, you pull Bradley down for a lingering kiss, holding onto the collar of his shirt even as the music changes to a more fast pace song. Bradley hums happily against your lips and when he pulls away, he has a giddy smile on his face.

The rest of the night is spent dancing with your loved ones around the backyard. Laughter and off-key singing fills the air as people let loose. It’s no secret that the squad is one of the rowdiest bunches around and this night is a perfect opportunity to have some unforgettable fun. Food is devoured, bets are made on how long it will take Bob to bust out the old sprinkler dance move and shots are taken each time Bradley gets caught staring at you.

When it comes time to cut the cake, everyone watches intently as your hand covers Bradley’s and the two of you cut out the first slice together. You each take a fork full and feed it to the other, resulting in another round of applause from your guests. While Bradley is distracted savoring the spongy cake, you take the opportunity to gather frosting on your fingers and smear it across his face, making sure to get it into his mustache. Before he can do the same to you, you take his face in your hands and like a long stripe across the coarse hairs.

“Mmm,” you hum smugly.

“There are children here!” Bradley gasps, scandalized as if the action hadn’t turned him on a little bit. You cackle in response, but your amusement is cut short when Bradley scoops up a dollop of frosting and spreads it across your face. He licks the light purple frosting off your cheek before kissing you hard.

———

After giving a riveting performance of Baby One More Time at the request of Phoenix, you step away and take a moment to catch your breath. You watch from afar as your friends continue to have the time of their lives.

Jake and Coyote are taking I Wanna Dance With Somebody way too seriously, serenading Fanboy and Bradley who are singing back at them equally as loud. Payback twirls his wife around. Bob seems to have overindulged in the beer, an unusual occurrence because he’s all too confident he can hit the high notes of the song as he jumps around with Phoenix.

It’s impossible to stop the giggles coming from you as you watch the scene unfold. These big, strong, badass fighter pilots look silly dancing around with absolutely zero inhibitions. These idiots are your family and you couldn’t love them anymore. They are exactly the type of people you always wanted in your life. You stand for a few moments longer, simply soaking it all up.

Fanboy, the “DJ” of the night, announces through the speakers that there will be one last song, a slow one for all the couples. You almost can’t believe the night is already over. You feel like you could spend forever stuck in this moment. The joy, fun, love, it’s all so amazing. This night is only the beginning of the rest of your life with Bradley, but it’s been the best night ever.

At Last by Etta James plays. It’s one of Bradley’s favorite songs to dance with you to. You’ve spent many nights together swaying in a dimly lit kitchen while the record plays. You make your way back to the dance floor where you find your husband waiting for you with an outstretched hand.

Bradley’s arms find themselves wrapped around your waist again. There’s a slight chill in the air from the midnight summer wind, but being close to Bradley keeps you warm. Other couples join you on the makeshift dance floor. Your parents along with Mav and Penny. Payback and his wife join. Phoenix drags Jake to dance with her and even with all the alcohol he’s consumed he’s still coordinated enough to dance the way his mama taught him.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper into the air between you and Bradley.

“Me too,” he whispers back as he lets his forehead fall against yours. “I love you.” One hand falls to your belly. The warmth from his large hand radiates through the fabric of your dress.

You press your lips against his softly. “You don’t have to keep saying it. I believe you.”

“I’m going to say it every minute until the day I die. I’ll shout it from the sky. I’m going to make sure the whole world knows.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you shake your head playfully.

“And you still married me.”

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

“That plane took off hours ago.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I love you too.”

“Yes, it is. The best thing in the whole world.”

[chochuuya]

flu confession.

kazutora hanemiya x fem!reader

notes: classic old school fluff, shy tora (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

wc: 587

his voice is so stuffy over the phone.

“hurrgh,” kazutora groans. you can picture the scene now— him swaddled in layers of blankets, desperately trying to get over the flu. it’d be funny if it didn’t sound like he was two seconds from sneezing every time he spoke.

you call out his name and he goes, “huh?” in return. “oh, i didn’t mean to call somebody. uh, i’ll hang— achoo!”

you chuckled in response.

“poor you. get well soon, kazutora. don’t worry, i made extra notes and got you the handouts for the lessons you missed!”

“no, no, hang on,” he says, sniffling. “don’t go.”

his voice is strained, but he still sounds grateful for the time. “you don’t have better things to do? like... hang out with friends or whatever?”

“it’s 4 in the morning man..”

“yeah, uh, true.” he pauses, “what’re you doing up so late?”

“can’t sleep haha, plus it’s raining. i thought i could listen to some songs down the nostalgic lane.”

“oh, you’re a music girl, hmm?” he grins behind the screen, you can tell he likes the sound of that. “whatcha listening to?”

“not really.” you chuckled softly. “oh, right now.. don’t laugh but it's beautiful girls by sean kingston. kinda random, i know.”

hanemiya raises his eyebrows. “that’s a catchy song. i’ll be honest with you, though, most would’ve said taylor swift or... uh, i dunno, i’m running out of examples.”

he laughs, “so do you usually stay up this late all the time or is it the storm?”

you laughed along. “honestly, both.”

“yeah, i’m with ya there. the rain’s pretty relaxing, but it’s also kind of lonely.”

he pauses. “can i ask you something?”

“sure, what’s up?”

“you’re not gonna think it’s stupid?”

“let’s hear it first.”

“well…” he gulps, “do you think we’d make a good couple?” his voice is shaky but he says it anyway.

that made you sit straight up, staring at the phone in disbelief. the time keeps on running and you still couldn’t believe your own ears.

“..why would you think that, kazutora?”

“well.. i’m not sure, really. i just...”

he trails off, ‘just’ almost turning to ‘got a crush on you’.

“never mind,” he says quickly. “i’m just tired and sick. i shouldn’t say things like that.”

“i, uh.. it’s fine.” you chuckled nervously.

shoot i don’t even know what to say, you thought to yourself.

“yeah, okay.” he sniffles again. “can... uh... can you keep a secret, (y/n)?”

“of course.”

“okay. so, uh…”

there’s silence for a moment. kazutora takes a deep breath, then spills his guts. “i’m really into you.”

the boy blushes but he swore it’s just his fever acting up. “i’ve thought about it for a while, but i didn’t want to ruin anything. but we always get along and you’re really funny. and pretty.”

he clears his throat. “‘m i embarrassing myself?”

“no.. not at all, kazutora. thank you, you’re so sweet. i think you’re kinda cute too.” you let out a nervous laughter.

“wait, really?” his voice is a jumble of different emotions. surprised. happy. relieved. nervous. he doesn’t try to hide them very hard.

“are you just saying that?”

you laughed quietly at his remark. “no, i mean it.”

“oh. okay then.”

tora’s heart is about to jump out of his chest, but when did it ever listen to him before?

“so... do you want to hang out sometime?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant. “when i’m not dying of the flu, of course.”

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

so so cute (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) please do like/reblog/interact if you enjoy reading this hehe, always appreciated ♡♡

[euripidestrousers]

The Bridget Jones Wolfstar AU that No One Asked For

Dear Diary, 

Even writing those words makes me physically ill so I’d like to start this off by disclosing that getting a diary was not my idea. 

You see, my best friend, James - excellent, wonderful best friend who has recently become a family man by choice, and has therefore become one of the most insufferable people on earth - gave me this diary and said it’s either this or he’s buying me therapy because one more rubbish one-week relationship of mine is going to kill him.

And I don’t need a fucking therapist, so here you are, and here I am. I feel better already.

(haha)

Dear Diary, 

James might be onto something. Today I found myself smoking my third morning cigarette while drinking my coffee and muttering that the drive to work is going to be hell because of the rain. 

I’ve become my father. 

Of course, I asked James if he ever looks in the mirror and sees Monty staring back and if it makes him want to buy a motorbike and he replied, ‘Uh, I’m literally his son, we look alike. Are you okay?’

My thirty third birthday is coming up. 

Please don’t let this be a mid-life crisis. I’m not in a relationship because I don’t want one, and haven’t had one in over ten years because the men in London either want to meet you in the park or meet your parents. It’s the last hour of the buffet and all that’s left is the salad. And I don’t need a relationship either. James and Lily are a match made in heaven since the first time he told her ugly friend he was ugly (rightfully so, the man is still hideous and a complete prick), and she told him to watch his fucking mouth. Made for each other.

But the last time I met a guy that made me laugh and was any sort of attractive and not a complete knob about being attractive, was over three years ago. 

Ie, it’s not for me. End of story.

I bought a motorbike

Dear Diary, 

I’m going to do away with the whole ‘dear diary’ thing, it makes me feel like a schoolgirl and if James ever finds you when we’re drunk he’s going to read out at least one embarrassing entry at me. They’re all embarrassing. 

I went on a blind date today.

“Long black for… Sirish?”

What? Oh. That vague jumble of mush must have been his name. Sirius grabs the takeaway cup and makes for the door briskly. He has the Binkley case to catch up on and write a piece on by the end of the week and he’s still not clear who the man is. A football star perhaps? He’s still being sidelined into the sports area of the paper because he did football for a year. Nevermind that he has an interest in politics and would very much like to report on where the country will be in ten years if it keeps going-

J: You busy after work?

Sirius grins, flopping his jacket over one arm to type back to James Potter, best friend and inarguably lesser half of Lily Potter. 

S: drinks?

J: I have a one year old

S: too early for him to start?

S: kidding. Don’t tell Lily. She’s already started making him take his helmet every time I take him for a day. 

J: It’s not for drinks. Lily has a friend who’s just come to town. I thought maybe you could show him around.

S: Worst lie ever. 

J: I haven’t had coffee yet.

J: It’s actually true though. He just came to town and doesn’t know anyone other than Lily, and Harry has a cold so we’re both staying home.

J: He’s quite attractive I’m told. Lily told me to say ‘tall Martin Freeman’, and that you’d know what it means

S: Potter, if I was so desperate that I would open to a blind date, I definitely wouldn’t start with any of Lily’s friends, they’re all college professors and about 50 years old. 

J: He’s 37

S: He has elbow patches. Guaranteed. Bet he says ‘but the Torries are actually not as conservative as they’re made out to be.’

S: Bet he has a mahogany desk and wanks to Aristotle

J: Jesus christ

J: Photo sent

Sirius glances down uninterestedly and sees a photo of a man. But instead of the expected stuffy looking balding man with a sour face, as most of Lily’s fellow professors are to be fair, instead he’s looking at a tall, brown haired man with flecks of grey at the temples and smiling softly at the camera, and he’s well, he’s not not handsome. Tall Martin Freeman is actually quite right. Hello.

He brings the phone closer to examine the photo as he blindly barges into the office building with the large Get Up, Britain sign gaudy and bright above him. 

The man is younger on second glance, although he is wearing a suit jacket with elbow patches (told you, Jamie), and standing a little awkwardly, like he’s not used to photos being taken of him, and it’s entirely likely that he’s more accustomed to being nose deep in a book ninety percent of the time. 

He’s shagged worse. 

S: I was right about the elbow patches

J: I really tried to find one without them too

J: But he sounds nice. Funny. Lily likes him, she talks about him all the time. They were prefects together in school and used to bunk off and smoke behind the bins

One the one hand: prefect. Disgusting. Hall monitors. Pigs-to-be, snooty, law-abiding to the most irritating degree (Lily being the exception, of course). On the other hand: smoking behind the bins is more his style. Speaking of, he’d love one right now-

J: I really think you’d like him. Even just friends. Moving cities is lonely and he sounds alright. He likes Manchester U?

S: Fine, I’m free after 6

S: Don’t yell at me if I shag him, work has been shit.

So that’s how Sirius finds himself, half past six, swearing up a storm and running with his tote bag over his head in the pouring rain, late for his blind date (or something).

He slams into the restaurant door, shaking himself off like a wet dog, his casual Friday jeans and black t-shirt soaking wet, his shoulder length, black hair is dripping around his face, hoping his laptop has survived, and shivering like a chihuahua at a children’s party. 

“Uh, I’m here for uh-” he consults his phone again and reads the name to the maitre d, “Reh-mus?”

“It’s Remus, actually”, comes a soft voice from his left. 

Sirius turns quickly and immediately drenches the man standing at his elbow in droplets of water from his hair and coat. Tall Martin Freeman indeed - he has one of those faces that’s even better in person, where the way he stoops his shoulders and holds himself makes him look soft and welcoming, and the warm lighting gives him that attractive, cozy professor look, rather than an uptight old man.

“Oh”, Sirius grins quickly, hoping his dazzling smile will make up for their flimsy introduction, “Right, Sirius. Are you still waiting for a table-?”

“I er, well, I was about to leave actually”, Remus says, glancing at the maitre d awkwardly, “You’re quite late.”

Sirius’ smile freezes. Well, then. 

“Got caught up at work”, he replies stiffly, brushing his hair back and letting his eyes go cold, “If you’d prefer we don’t-”

“No, no, of course not”, Remus appears to snap back, as if remembering his manners and seeming oddly distracted, “Please, let’s sit. You look like you could use a drink.”

Sirius runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he follows Remus to the table and wonders if that was a slight about him looking like a drowned rat. He notices the man has worn an absolutely hideous brown jumper that wouldn’t be out of place in an aged care home, so he doesn’t really have the right to judge Sirius’ appearance. 

“Wine?” The waiter offers politely. It’s a nice place - James said Lily had picked it because she thought Remus would like it. It is a little stuffy, honestly. Something his parents might have stopped by and deemed adequate, which is to say, the beer is fucking overpriced, Jesus-

“I’ll have the Stout again, please”, Remus answers briskly, nodding at Sirius to order his.

“Uh, yeah, Stout. Cheers”, Sirius adds, dumping his bag beneath the table and trying to surreptitiously dry his hair in the napkin. Remus looks away as if embarrassed by him. Swot.

“So, you know Lily through school?” Sirius starts, unable to keep the boredom completely out of his voice. 

“Yes. I take it you know James through yours”, Remus answers, very politely but also sounding just as bored. 

“Yeah, grew up together”, Sirius nods. 

Remus doesn’t say anything to that, just hums and sips some water. 

It’s fucking awkward. Normally, Sirius would give him an ultimatum - ‘look, do you want to liven it up a bit and turn this into a fun one-night thing? Because otherwise, I’m not feeling it and I’ve got work to do.’

But Lily knows this guy, they have mutual friends, and if this isn’t what makes blind dates the most excruciating, hellish thing on earth, worse than job interviews, worse than-

“I don’t really do blind dates”, Remus says suddenly, and then blinks as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all.

“Right”, Sirius says, bewildered. 

“I, er, the dating scene. Not really my thing”, he says quietly, still not looking Sirius in the eye, “But I just moved here from Wales and I don’t know anyone, so this doesn’t have to be… anything. Just-”

“Oh- oh yeah. Fine with me”, Sirius finds himself swallowing down a touch of regret, offended really, because he’s not used to someone not immediately being ready to come home with him. “I’m not really looking for anything and blind dates are, well - eugh, you know? Like, thanks, my friends think I can’t get laid on my own or something so they set me up with whoever they think isn’t a serial killer, like any gay dude will do-”

“Yes, well”, Remus says tightly, taking another sip, “I rather thought Lily knew me better than that.”

His tone is rather pointed and Sirius realises he’s let his mouth run. Well… to be fair, the guy is kind of a snob. What was Lily thinking anyway?

“Yeah”, he agrees through his teeth, crossing his arms and legs and sitting back in his chair to wait for his beer. Maybe he can make an excuse after one drink. He can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humour and if this bloke doesn’t want to be a one-night stand, then he’d much rather be home. Alone.

“Is there anything around here you’d recommend?” Remus tries, voice clipped and still sounding slightly offended, “Restaurants? More importantly, ones you don’t recommend?”

“There’s a place that does turkey curry. It’s awful.”

“What? What curry?” The tightness in Remus’ face slips momentarily and he looks genuinely bewildered. He’s actually not a bad looker when he’s not frowning. 

“Turkey. It’s as bad as it sounds. Actually it’s worse, like eating a lamb burrito, it’s just not right. Shittest fucking curry and it’s as bad going in as it is bad going ou-”

“Two Stouts.”

The waiter delivers their beers and they fade off into silence as they drink. 

Remus sips delicately, in a way that’s completely inappropriate for a beer, and says awkwardly, “Yes well, thank you for the tip. I’ll rest easy never knowing what turkey curry tastes like.”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can avoid it then I guess this date wasn’t a waste after all.”

Remus blinks, expression dropping. 

Oh. Oh fuck. Double fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom”, Remus says abruptly and stands. He stalks away quickly and leaves Sirius gnawing at his lip and furious at both himself and this infuriating man who seems to loathe him, minutes after meeting him and who Lily apparently thinks is nice. 

He’s got other shit to be getting on with, he decides. And this bloke probably shags like a limp fish anyway, an Oxford type that thinks poetry is foreplay and once a month sex is scandalously frequent.

He drains his beer and half of Remus’ for good measure, and heads to the bathroom so he can catch Remus on his way out, only to hear his own name hissed furiously. He sees Remus standing out the front of the restaurant, shoulders raised against the cold and holding the phone to his ear. He steps closer and half opens the door to tell him he’s going to head off when he hears the conversation.

“... how did you think someone like Sirius would be good for me? After the hell I’ve had in the last year? Going on a date with someone like him? He showed up thirty minutes late, dressed like he’s going to a bar playing exclusively Metallica, and insulted me immediately. I told you, I don’t mind being alone for a while, especially after the divorce. I certainly don’t want to be shown around London by a rude, arrogant berk who dresses like a teenager and doesn’t seem to have a filter between his brain and his mouth. He probably thinks the bar scene is-oh”

Remus catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye and he spins. They stare at each other for a few excruciation moments, Remus still holding the phone to his ear. 

Sirius breaks the tension with a forced laugh, “Right. I’m definitely going home.”

“Wait, shit, I’ll call you back”, Remus mutters into the phone and hangs up, stepping forward but Sirius pushes past him, temper steadily rising into a roaring bonfire within his chest.

“Sirius, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re absolutely right, I wouldn’t know the first thing about showing a bloke like you around London”, he turns and says loudly so it carries over the sounds of the cars driving by on the busy street, “You’d be more comfortable in a fucking graveyard, honestly. There’s one ten minutes that way-” he turns his back and points over to the left, calling back over his shoulder, “You’ll find someone much more your speed there, Remus.”

Blind date disastrous as expected. 

Remus fucking Lupin, a professor extraordinaire who wouldn’t be able to find his funny bone if it conked him on the fucking head, is not an exception to the blind date rule, even though he’s easy on the eyes at first glance. At second glance, he is a miserable, dried up academic whose own self-importance has completely consumed him despite dressing like his grandfather for Halloween. 

If this is what my friends think of me, I need to sort my fucking shit out. 

I should have asked him to shag before he opened his stupid fucking mouth. 

[bunniesnuggie]

ethan landry as a caregiver

ethan landry x hyper fem little!reader

summary: just some headcanons of our favorite nerd as a first time caregiver 💕

*this is a non-ghostface au, he’s alive and not a stabby boy 👍🏻💗

*not proofed*

quick lil heads up - i’ve literally never seen scream 6… and have no idea who anyone is except ethan so, keep that in mind. but i still have been kinda obsessed with him lately :3

♡finds out by coming home early from class and finding you fully regressed in his dorm

he’s so cute; he didn’t even know anything was “wrong” at first. just enjoying the sight of his adorable girlfriend laying on his bed in his shirt cuddling the build a bears you made for each other, watching barbie movies. that is, until you yelped and leaped off the bed, and literally started crying. traumatized him ™️

♡ himbo DID NOT understand,

he will never EVER judge you. but did have to do research b4 fully getting it, like cutiepie was reading phyc books during his classes and reading different posts online 💕but didn’t say anything abt it to you tho. just kinda became a mama bear one day 😭 he does ask you lots of questions when your big tho

♡ once he does get it tho…. OH BOY

he had no idea he would love taking care of someone so much, this is both of your guys first relationships. everything is new, this is no different to him than learning your favorite things or how you like to be comforted. he knows this is simply coping for you, and he would do anything for you. so helping you heal you inner child is nothing out of the question

♡ soft casual dominance is kinda already his thing, so it comes naturally

so he’s used to tying you shoes for you, holding your hand out in public, he’ll order you food and talk to strangers for you. so when he does become your caregiver, the dynamic in public isn’t really that different 🫶🏻

♡ bathtime, playtime, naps!!!

he loves spending time with you while your regressed!! he colors with you and totally plays dolls or dress up. he’s very pretty and loves when you tell him so while putting clips in his hair☺️

♡ lego bf!

literally buys you sm lego sets, easier ones like duplo for when ur smaller and the more complex “adult” ones for date night :}

♡ he also gets vv invested in your shows and stuffies lives

“he did WHAT?!? why would he do that, can’t he tell that is not Ariel????? i mean her hair isn’t even RED!!!” 🤬🤬 becomes an angry boi. he totally spills the tea with ur stuffies during tea parties😗

♡ makes sure you guys go on “little” dates at least twice a month

you guys are basically attached at the hip, young love and all, so dates are frequent. but when he became ur caregiver, he wanted to make sure you knew he wanted to do this and be there for you 1000%. he also wanted to help you with regressing regularly to help you cope with stress. you once told him that you hadn’t regressed once in like 5 months and it was not fun when you finally did, he learned abt “improper” regression that night and never wanted to let it happen to you again 🥹

♡ embodies spider-man!bf energy

he LOVES the hellokitty!gf x spider-man!bf trends. he literally thinks it was made for you guys nerd. makes you bracelets that say bunny and daddy on it, his is red a blue and urs is pink and white, awe💕💕lowkey feel like he’d dress up as spider-man for halloween too

♡ speaking of nicknames, say good bye to ur real name

even before he found out you were a little, it was always sweetheart, bunny, angel, pretty girl, baby, princess etc that boy loves you so much and he shows it. after though he added in little one, babybug, tiny, dolly…anything that makes you feel especially small

♡ literally always carrying you

this man is 6’2, he makes chad look small he towers over you and absolutely loves it. so he takes advantage of it when he can, piggyback rides are a common occurrence. he loves just holding you in his lap, seeing ur tiny body take up such little space and fit perfectly on him, makes him 🫠

♡ is SO SOO protective

people take him for granted, thinking he’s just some sweet, docile nerd who loves econ. and while that is true, bby can kick butt and will for you. he doesn’t let anyone near you while regressed, heck or even see pictures of you regressed. that is your safe space. he will be damned if he lets anyone taint it. he also asked of you would be ok with him monitoring you socials while small, especially if you have agere accounts. he does not take anon hate lightly and will not tolerate any nsfw accounts trying to interact with you

♡ he just loves you so much and wants u to always be happy

like i said he will do absolutely anything for you, that boy loves you more than anything in the world. he shows it to you every day, whether that be in big space by showering you with kisses and complements, showing you off in public with an uncomfy amount of pda. or in the comfort of your room, surrounded by stuffies and coloring books while your dada reads you a story 💗

a/n: ahhhh i’m back!!!! sorry it’s literally been like….a year👀i haven’t regressed in a very very long time and just haven’t had motivation to post :( i’ve also been obsessed with new ppl so i’ve been writhing non-eddie stuff lately :3 anywho here’s a lil smth smth and hopefully i’ll be posting a bit again. i want to write abt barry from obx but idk if anyone would care or read it 😭😭might just draft that one for me lol. i’ve also got a lot of requests and wips to finish so it’s just up to me to write them 🫠😭

*i’ll be updating my character list to included the new ppl i want to write about!!!

tag list//

@bootlegmothman420 @angelbaby-fics @lil- -baby- -bat @stardancerluv @lulubooboo @albino-otaku @xxghostie-ghoulxx @stuckysgirl27 @sunshinee-bear

[sundove88]

DBZ: Waves of Freedom Chapter 1: Where The Land Meets The Sea

Our story begins in the coastal city of Scalefall Bay, the very place where land and sea meet in perfect unison. But within the urban jungle, a tale of adventure and the pursuit of freedom will begin.

In a stuffy apartment near Scalefall Bay’s biggest company, Empire Oil Drilling Corporations, a young employee groggily sat up and walked over to the closet where a monochrome work suit lay. “Guess it’s time I start another day at work…”, he said to himself, taking out a hairbrush and combing through his jet black locks. Vegeta knew that this would be another work day at the oppressive Empire Oil Drilling Corps, with him straightening his tie for work and placing on his formal shoes, followed by him pacing out of the apartment he called home and onto the sidewalks.

But unbeknownst to Vegeta, miles off the coast of the city he dwelled in was something else entirely- a realm that even he couldn’t comprehend. For beneath the waves, a race of beings known as the merpeople lived in a society quite like our own, and if they ever felt like it, a merperson could shapeshift their tail into legs if they ever felt the need to walk the earth- and that’s exactly what one young merman decided to do. “Goku, Just please, be careful, and be back home soon, ok?”, said a mermaid as she flicked her tail, that being of a purple and gold Asian arowana fish, while her purple embroidered top flowed with the current. “Of course, Chi Chi! I’ll be back as soon as I can!”, Goku replied as he made his way to the surface from his home in the undersea city of Atlantis, his two sons waving goodbye to their father. “See you in a bit, dad!”, replied the older, Gohan as he placed down a waterproof book. “Bring back something from the surface!”, the younger, Goten, said as he picked up a hermit crab in his hands. Both of them shared their father’s sunset orange fins, and as their father breached the surface, he took in a moment to witness the morning sunlight bursting through the clouds. “Man, I’ve never been here before… and I’ve gotta pick up some stuff… but first, I’ve gotta find a place where I can shapeshift!”

Goku immediately spotted a safe area behind a large rock. As he concentrated on shapeshifting, an ethereal light enveloped him instantly, and he felt his tail split and instantly change into masculine human legs, as well as his clothing materializing into being. “Now that is better. Now to finally get some stuff for my family.”, he said as he laced up his shoes before heading into the fray as a human being. At the same moment, Vegeta was walking towards the headquarters of Empire Oil Drilling, pondering over what his future could be like. Another day at Frieza’s workplace… Man, if only he could give me a break for once! He thought to himself as he walked onwards into the black and white landscape. The scent of the nearby Seabreeze was the only thing keeping him sane that morning as he walked through the front doors of the building, not knowing he’d encounter someone who’d change his life for the better. Before he knew it, he was walking onto his office floor and sitting in a cramped office cubby with almost no room to spare, save for a window that provided a view of the nearby ocean, which made him long for the waves even more. In fact, Vegeta hated his job at Empire Oil Drilling Corps more than anything. He felt like a small fish trapped inside a fishbowl that was no way suitable for him, and he longed for the freedom that was the ocean.

After a very long and exhausting day at work, while everyone else went home to spend time with their loved ones, Vegeta immediately headed for the one place where he felt at home the most- the sea. When suddenly, he accidentally bumped into Goku, carrying various items for his family beneath the waves. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”, he snapped, before coming back to his senses. “Wait… who are you, and why have I never seen you before?”, Vegeta questioned. “Nevermind who they call me. I’ve gotta get home.”, said Goku as he made his way towards the water- with all of his clothes on! Vegeta watched in amazement as Goku stepped into the ankle deep water, placed the tote bags of his land finds aside, and the water around him immediately began to turn a golden color. Without warning, the golden water enveloped the young man in an instant, and he began to transform back into his true form. “Wait… What the hell’s going on…?!”, Vegeta replied, trying as hard as he could to block out the flash of light. As the young businessman watched, Goku’s clothes disintegrated into bubbles, his legs began to grow scales of orange, gold, and sunset, and his feet lost their shape and flattened into two perfect fins. As his entire lower body fused at the thighs and ended at the former ankles, there was no doubt that the man Vegeta had met mere moments earlier was a merman- and a real one at that. In a brilliant flash of light, the golden whirlpool dissipated, leaving Goku sitting in the ankle deep water with a gorgeous merman tail the color of the sky at sunset. Vegeta couldn’t contain his amazement. “Y-You’re a merman… A real merman!”, he cried.

At those words, Goku turned around in shock. Nobody had ever caught him in his merman form- until now. “Well, I guess it seems so!”, he said as he perched on a rocky outcrop, and Vegeta followed him towards it. “Sorry if I startled you. I’m Vegeta, employee of Empire Oil Drilling Corps over there.”, replied Vegeta as he sat down on the damp rocks, not caring that his pants got soaked- he knew that they would dry out. “Well, the name’s Goku. I’m actually a merman from the Sector of Atlantis known as Mazu’s Harbor!”, replied the orange tailed siren as he stretched out his fishtail after many long hours of walking on land. “A-A merman, eh? Well, do you actually lure sailors to their deaths with your super awesome looks and clear voices?”, questioned Vegeta as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Hehe! You’re actually mixing us up with sirens. They do that more than we merpeople do.”, replied the merman as he flicked his fins in the afternoon sun. “And are you utterly obsessed with your own appearance, to say the least?”, Vegeta questioned again. “Well, it’s actually the humans who are more into that. We value others for who they are instead.”, Goku chirped as he dipped his tail in the water.

The conversation between them dragged on long until the sun began to set in the sky. “Well, I’d better get back home- Chi Chi’s not gonna be happy about me being gone for this long, and so are Gohan and Goten.” Goku said, taking the tote bags in his hands and immediately preparing to dive into the ocean. “Wait! Kakarot! Who are those people you mentioned?!” Vegeta shouted as his new friend resurfaced. “Those are my family members! And I hope that you can meet them one day!”, Goku said as he disappeared beneath the waves, his bright orange merman tail helping him cut through the water. Vegeta smiled as he looked towards the waves, then immediately went straight to his apartment. Unbeknownst to him, he would end up going through so much more than he thought.

Their encounter with each other was only just a small ripple that would grow into something that would change their lives forever.

[dragon-queen21]

this is a spur of the moment, no plannings going into this one because im not doing very well but shhh!!!!

(first off, im sorry i didnt say something sooner, ive been seeing your concerning posts lately. are you okay? seriously? i dont know if this is a line im crossing but if you want i could drop my blog if you ever need to vent. im sorry if thats too much i don’t understand things like this sometimes, but i genuinely hope your okay.)

but i wanna speak about lil sanji real bad, because i had a dream i was little and ive been having a lot of ideas about him lately and i need to project. also in honor of the sanji fan zine thats coming out (and that im totally not considering buying for 85 dollars as a early birthday gift) (or late since it ships in march lol)

- um idk i feel like hes a quiet little, especially before the crew found out he was a regressor, he doesnt really wanna talk, he just wants to be around someone. like i can see him pre coming out finishing like lunch or something and coming out and just sitting with nami and robin and theyre like “hello sanji kun do you need anything?” only to be confused when he doesnt start twirling like a love sick school girl.

^ or him going up to zoro PEACEFULLY and just plopping down and zoros fighting DEMONS not to say something brash and ruin the moment because sanjis clearly not in the mood, or if he looked close enough, not in the right headspace to deal with a attitude

-or even post coming out i imagine him just making everyone take a turn in holding him, not like pick up holding just. in the aquarium or something sitting on someones lap holding him close. give my guy some comfort PLEASE

- has one specific stuffed animal he keeps with him all the time. like first thing he asks for when hes tiny, f pacis, f sippys, give him his STUFFIE!!!!!!!!! youll never guess what it is (its a fish)

- i know a lot of people say sanji woukd be scared of the bigger members of the crew, and i so agree with that, but BUT the bigger members of the crew holding sanji like a actual baby? proportionally hes closer to the size of one if their hands

- no thoughts in this guys head, its just straight static. when hes younger, he has to like actually try to force two coherent thoughts together. i dont know he regresses really little a lot of the time, id say he stays closer to babyspace/toddlerspace than anything on the older side (he has so much trauma to work through)

ok im done im really sad so im gonna go to something productive to not. be sad byeebywwbyewww

📷

Thank you. I am just… having a time of it right now. People are… cruel, we’ll just leave it at that. And no your not crossing any line, if anything your words warmed my heart. I’m doing alright. Not the best not the worst just, fine.

I’m sorry you’re going through things as well :< We can suffer and be sad together <3

~~~

~I’ve seen talk about that zine floating around. 85 dollars is a lot but it would be fun to get.

Let me know if you do get it!

~“twirling like a love sick school girl.”

<- okay that made me chuckle. I can imgine there were so many alarm bells going off in their head. And maybe the just think that “oh Sanji’s… quiet”

~Zoro just aggressively chomping down on his sword and training to keep himself from saying something he knows will be stupud and unhelpful. And Sanji just seems so… soft and Zoro is like 95% sure this is some horrible mistake

~Attention starved. He’s just attention starved. Give the baby cuddles

~I’m quite partial towards the head canon of Zoro buying him a stuffed turtle. Sanji looking back and forth between Zoro and the plush before declaring “moss.” With no other explanation. Is that the plushes name? Is he just saying Zoro’s name? Who knows, certainly not Zoro.

~See I’m telling you. Caregiver Franky + babyspace Sanji. Just kdbjdbd best duo. (I just really really love cg Franky)

[jetstarred]

what i listened to in october 2024!

total albums: 9 top 3 favs: chromakopia (tyler, the creator), lp2 (secret band), no place (a lot like birds) click read more for full reviews :3

VII Magia Infinita (2024) - Zeta (2024)

Fav song: III Sufrir - 2024

This album is short, at 30 minutes long with 7 tracks. But I’ve listened to albums with twice as long of a tracklist that were shorter in length, so for once I’m not bothered by how long this album is. It’s a beautiful post-rock album that does a great job combining the Afro-Caribbean sound into the music. The tracks switch between being full instrumental songs and having some vocals, although the vocals tend to let the instruments take center stage. This might be the first album that I saw performed live before listening to it on my own. During the last song, the entire band played different percussion parts, along with Hail the Sun’s drummer. It’s one of the most unique things I’ve ever seen and made me appreciate very heavily the instrumentation on that song, and this album overall. I’m very excited for Zeta’s upcoming album and hope very desperately I’ll be able to catch them live next year.

Rating: 7/10

LP2 - Secret Band (2019)

Fav song: Black Dolphin

This album might be the closest thing to metal that I listen to and really enjoy. This album sounds like I’m in a grungy edgy video game that’s inspired by Doom but meant to be realistic. Thank you to the members of Dgd for creating this side project because it expands on some of my favorite aspects of that band. Matt’s heavy “machine gun” drums and Jon’s crazy screaming that sounds like he’s gonna throw up are two things I wish I got more of in Dgd so this is perfect for me. All the songs sound really similar so if you enjoy this type of music, this is a great album for you to listen to. I do think there’s enough variety and special moments in each song to make them stand out and make this an enjoyable album for me personally. Overall, I really like this album and I think it’s a fantastic hardcore addition to my music library.

Rating: 8/10

New Hell - Greet Death (2019)

Fav song: Crush

This album is so crazy for me front to back. The beginning song is so intense in a melancholic way and it just stays that emotional the entire time. It feels so reflective and like just stewing in these feelings of longing and sadness that I’m pretty familiar with. The atmosphere doesn't let up, feeling almost like I’m suffocating on stuffy air. I can almost hear the wind rustling through the leaves.

Rating: 7/10

MG Ultra - Machine Girl (2024)

Fav song: Sick!!

This album is a lot of the same from Machine Girl. Which is great because I love their music! It doesn't feel particularly inventive or like they're trying too many new things. That could be a bad thing for some people but honestly I don't mind at all. This album doesn't blow my mind as much as some of their previous albums, which does kinda bring it down for me. But I feel like this is a solid entry in their discography with some songs that could become personal favorites with further listening. I will say I do like the vibe this album has, like grimy futuristic industrial, and how it stays in that zone pretty much the entire time. Overall, I do think it’s a solid album, although it didn’t wow me.

Rating: 6/10

Acceptance Speech - Dance Gavin Dance (2013)

Fav song: Demo Team

This album is insane for opening with Jesus H. Macy.  It’s truly a song that feels like they’re hitting you over the head while simultaneously getting you comfortable with hearing the familiar vocals from Jon, then giving way to Tilian’s singing. This was his first album with the band, and it feels like he came in with something to prove. This album feels like the band building upon what they did on the previous albums, especially Dbm II, but bringing a new polish that makes everything sound grander than it has previously. Every song feels determined, like they’ve come back with a vengeance. Which makes sense when you consider that they thought Dbm II would be their last album before breaking up. Back to the songs themselves, Acceptance Speech has become one of my favorite title tracks that I’ve discovered this year. I really love when a title track matches the overall vibe of the album it’s on, and Acceptance Speech delivers. It carries the exact tone of determination, vengeance, and having something to prove that I’ve already mentioned. I also have to highlight Turn Off the Lights, I’m Watching Back To The Future as a really interesting closer. It carries such a specific energy that is rarely found throughout the album. Overall, this album gives me a similar overwhelming feeling that Conversation Piece gave me, but in a less chaotic way. I quite enjoy it, even if Tilian is my least favorite of all the clean vocalists they’ve had. 

Rating: 7/10

How It Feels To Be Something On - Sunny Day Real Estate (1998)

Fav song: How It Feels To Be Something On

This album's atmosphere is so intriguing to me. It feels warm like a radiator. Definitely reminds me of sitting in the basement during late fall. Overall, I really like the music on this album. It has a groove to it that makes it very enjoyable. The vocals are also kinda unique compared to what I usually listen to in a way that draws me in. I will say that all the songs stay in this very similar sound which makes them blend together a bit for me. So while this album didn’t blow me away, I still thoroughly enjoyed it.

Rating: 7/10

Audible to Animals - Marigold (2005)

Fav song: Into Acceptance

This album is kinda in it’s own space. There’s moments where it reminds me of other bands, mainly Circa Survive. But overall, kinda unique in a way I really appreciate. I love Vadim’s vocals and how light and airy they are while not sounding very high pitched. Feels almost like he's talking in a melodic way. The music is also a little theatrical which can be hit or miss for me, and this time it's a hit. I like the choice to have two fully instrumental tracks sprinkled into the album. It creates a very specific vibe that also makes this album flow nicely. It almost feels like there's a story being told and I really like that.

Rating: 7/10

No Place - A Lot Like Birds (2013)

Fav song: Next to Ungodliness

This album gave me the same sort of overwhelming feeling Conversation Piece gave me on the first listen. It feels more frantic than Conversation Piece, making me feel like I’m panicking over some impending doom. Overall this album builds upon the sound laid out in Conversation Piece, making an effort to experiment a bit more with the structure of the album as well as the individual songs.

Rating: 8/10

Chromakopia - Tyler, the Creator (2024)

Fav song: Rah Tah Tah

This album was a surprise addition to the list of Tyler albums I needed to listen to this year, and I think the fact I went through his discog for the first time this year helped me appreciate this album so much more. It’s such a clear product of Tyler’s continued growth and maturation throughout his musical career. This album feels more artistic and intimate than Call Me If You Get Lost, with a lot of care taken towards every element. It explores a lot more personal topics about Tyler’s life, with each song tackling a different specific topic. The music reflects this also, with a lot of elements taken from traditional African music showing up and mixing with the typical hip-hop sound Tyler has cultivated. The way this album flows is perfect to me, I genuinely have nothing negative to say about it. Spending time listening to this album and really getting familiar with it has made it become my favorite Tyler album, edging out Igor which has held that spot since I started listening to Tyler back in 2019.

Rating: 9/10

[kushami-hime]

CW: Spy! Hero! Snzfucker! Listener, adult! sadistic! villain! D/eku, sick D/eku, lots of cold and sniffling sounds, VERY gross, VERY MESS/SNOT HEAVY, lots of sniffling, lots of hitching breaths, a LOT of contagious/contagion talk, stuffy voice, some evil laughter/chuckles, snzfucker dirty talk, build ups, false start(s), D/eku with a god complex? D/eku sneezing on listener (a LOT), D/eku blowing his nose into listeners clothes, Kidnapped! Listener, Tied Up! Listener, BDSM vibes, D/eku figuring out Listeners Kink early on and using it against them, implied drug use (quirk canceler used on listener, aphrodisiac mentions), very VERY not PG-13 MINORS FUCK OFF.

You come to in what looks to be an abandoned warehouse, sealed off from the world and tied to a chair of all things. As you vision clears, you realize who your captor is...a dangerous villain by the name of Deku, who you've been chasing for years...But something seems off about him. This may be the first time you've seen him in person...but even then...he seems ill. And he can very much tell you've noticed...

Well..this...is the grossest wav I've EVER made. Like legit. I also lost 30 minutes of sneezing and dialogue during this wavs conception, but after going into a rage filled tantrum I calmed down and recorded the rest xux;

But listener beware, this is very dirty snzfucker talk and Im sort of ashamed for how ALL IN I went on this. BEWARE, this may not be for you!

Anyway, hope you enjoy the horni!

MINORS DNI. NON KINK BLOGS DO NOT REBLOG. All characters are depicted as 21+

[whumpsoda]

Rescued

The hero or villain switching sides (forcibly or willingly) is like my kryptonite

cw: cursing, restraints

———————————————————————

Assistant hesitantly knocked his clammy knuckles against the door. 

One, 

two, 

three knocks.

No answer.

Not that he expected one of course. He gradually turned the doorknob in an attempt to notify the owner of the room that they had a visitor. Assistant leisurely poked his head in, grinning, but not enough to agitate his company. 

“Hey, I’m here, uh, with your food.”

Assistant paused for a moment, sure to make no sudden movement, and watched as a pair of eyes glared daggers at him from across the tight room. Once he knew he would receive no verbal recognition, Assistant bumbled in and plopped down into an uncomfortable plastic chair. 

The pair of eyes remained locked onto him.

“Still salad…again. Sorry about that, food is kinda limited when, y’know, you’re in a base for outlaws.” Assistant chuckled slightly.

No reaction came from the person strapped to the bed.

Sweat began encompassing Assistant’s bony fingers, as he gripped tighter onto the two food trays that he was carrying.

“I-I did grab us some steak though! I made sure to grab some before it was all gone, just for you. I know how you like, uh, meat.” While he was talking he had watched the person deliberately turn their head to look in the other direction, at the wall, rather than at Assistant. Assistant gingerly placed the two trays full of food onto the lean table next to him.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

The words were spit out bitterly, coated in displeasure. 

Villain talked to him. Villain had of course talked to him before, they’re best friends, but this was the first time since his disappearance that when communicating he hadn’t screamed, shouted, or insulted Assistant. It was obviously meant as a means of causing displeasure toward his captor, but it had not mattered. Assistant was beyond jubilant, his body flooded with euphoria, but he had forced himself not to show it, so as to not irritate Villain more. 

“I-uh,” Assistant struggled to search for a correct answer, hesitant to give the wrong reply. The room went silent for a moment, the air thick and stuffy. “Villain, I really, really, don’t know what's going on with you, but-”

Villain’s firmly restrained hands balled into fists and his head whipped around to face Assistant. 

“That’s not even my name! You criminals are all insane if you think I have some-some, stupid past with you! You’re all dumb idiots who are either trying to mess with me, or you’re just all stupid!” Assistant recoiled as Villain furiously fought against the mountain of restraints working to contain him, getting his face as close to his foe’s as he could muster, and continuing his ranting.

“You really think that I’m just gonna let you people mess me up?” Hero let out a boisterous laugh. “You really think I’m gonna believe some stupid made up sob story about me? You’re all fucking idiots. You and all those disgusting villains. You’re probably the most pathetic villain I’ve ever had to look at! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Let me out!” 

Assistant lifted his right hand, using his powers to curl firm vines over Villain’s limbs as another added restraint, as he backed towards the door. Once opened, Assistant quickly yelled out to any possible passer-bys for medical assistance. Villains yelling became louder, insults among the worst kind, and screams of fury. 

“You’re gonna sedate me? Again? Just as I thought! You fucking coward!”

—————————————————————-

—————————————————————-

One year.

Villain had been captured one year ago.

Assistant had been weighed down with the guilt of not being able to save his best friend for an entire year, and yet now as Villain was back at the base, Assistant still felt like shit.

They had brought Villain home two weeks ago, and from the very beginning, even before the rescue mission,  they knew it would prove to be no easy task.

When it had been first revealed a month and a half ago that the villain who used to plague the streets regularly, the villain who had last shown his face a year ago, was the new addition to Superhero’s team, the criminal world was in disbelief. Even if the civilians had no clue, from his new hair to his new name, it was ridiculously easy for the villains to tell. Especially Assistant.

As soon as the base found out, it had become a group effort to work towards Villain’s recapture. They knew he was probably in so much agony, they had no means of knowing how the organization could’ve been treating him.

Villain had to have been acting.

Assistant convinced himself of it. Villain must’ve been acting like a hero as a means of keeping himself safe.

He had too.

Even when Villain showed up in interviews, news articles, and even paparazzi photos, Assistant knew it was fake. Even when in every one Villain was either shown to be having fun with the heros or going on and on about fighting crime, it had to be fake.

Assistant couldn’t forgive himself if it wasn’t.

That’s probably why he’d been beating himself up the past two weeks.

It had been obvious from the moment the rescue operation began that much to Assistant’s denial, this was all very much real. Even when faced with his former family for the first time in a year, Villain had wasted no time trying to take them down.

He seemed to have been enjoying it.

What was obvious he did not enjoy though, was being taken captive. Villain had been in hysterics for close to a week, and still was when he wanted to be. 

Villain hated them. It was obvious. It wasn’t fake, even Assistant couldn’t deny it anymore. And it was obvious that Villain had no recollection of any of them, and especially not his famously villainous past.

He hated all of them, for being criminals.

For being who he had formerly been so proud to be.

—————————————————————-

—————————————————————-

Waking up sucked. 

Every time Hero woke up he could only hope he would be in bed, his bed, not bound by countless ropes, chains and power suppressors. Not once in the two week period since he had been held captive by these crazy people was his wish granted.

This was only one of the many problems that Hero had with this foul place. The most alarming problem was the people. 

He could not get away from them. 

They were smothering, and no amount of shrieking, insults, or fighting could keep them away. Even when it seemed Hero had simply one minute of time alone, someone else would come in asking questions, making him eat, or going on and on and on about their stupid sob story. Every single person in the building it seemed had the feeling that they were sent from up above to single handedly convince Hero of his alleged villain backstory, which he regarded as being terribly written.

They all told him the same thing, that he used to be a villain, their “best friend,” living in this stupid, stupid, criminal base, living out their best lives as a “family.” 

And every. Single. One, of these liars was calling him by a name he had never heard of in his life. 

Worryingly, he was completely unable to leave, and could barely move for that matter. The only time he wasn’t being held down in a rigid hospital bed by what seemed to be hundreds of ropes and chains, as well as a pile of blankets, were bathroom trips. Although he was heavily guarded during those as well.

And no sign of his team. Not one sign telling him that they were coming. Hero was well aware that they knew about this place, and in two weeks no one had thought to look for him here? A lump in his throat formed from the thought. 

Maybe no one was coming for him. Maybe they didn’t care about him as much as they thought he did. Maybe they were glad to have gotten rid of him. 

Knock, knock, knock.

Shit.

Three knocks. Hero knew exactly who was at the door. He instinctively groaned as the door carefully inched open, and a disgustingly familiar face poked in. This time the man was not carrying food, so Hero assumed he had come to interrogate him. So many people had tried thus far, and only in turn did they receive verbal abuse. Hero was proud of this fact, he was determined to make sure they would get nothing out of him. He was only nervous as to when the villains would inevitably become violent.

“Uh, hey.” Hero watched as the visitor stumbled in, practically falling onto the chair placed next to his restrained body. 

A period of strained silence followed.

“So…I feel kinda bad-I just feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot, I guess? With us having to restrain you and all…I guess that doesn’t really help much..” the sides of his captor’s mouth tugged into a small smile. 

This guy cannot be serious. For a villain seemingly so strong, he is nothing short of stupid.

A slender hand was set down on top of Hero’s restrained one, icily brushing against his fingers.

“My name is Assistant, nice to meet you.”

Hero’s fingers recoiled, rejecting Assistant’s hand as much as he could.

“Oh crap I’m sorry,” Hero stared at Assistant with an expression of utter confusion and disdain. “Um…but, what’s your name?”

“So you admit you’ve been trying to fool me this whole time? Calling me some fake name, feeding me a false narrative into the attempt to manipulate me into switching sides? You’re fucking pathetic, y’know that-”

Assistant shoved his face into the Hero's enthusiastically. “No, no! I swear-I swear it's all true! You gotta believe me! I just don’t wanna call you by a name you obviously don’t like!” Hero swallowed. “I really don’t know what happened to you, and why you’re different and why you don’t like us, and-and why you can’t seem to remember us, but-”

“Hero.”

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Hero’s face, and for a moment the two just stared intently into one another’s eyes. “My name. You asked for it.”

Anything to get this guy to shut up.

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #49: tfw your uncle tells your gf not to date you because he thinks she could do better

I spent the better half of an hour wandering the grounds of Luke’s school, trying to find out where Fannie was so I could avoid her. Luke’s students kept on saying hi to me as they passed. Dude, I barely remember any of their names—the ones I knew from way back when, I’ve mostly forgotten, and Uncle Luke has taken on so many new students since then. But then of course everyone knows who I am—Fannie says Luke talks about his family a lot at school. I ended up handing out a whole lotta head nods and “hey bro wassup”s.

I couldn’t find Fannie—although I did catch a glimpse of her ex, Deirak, now a newly-appointed Jedi teacher, who seemed to be holding a Saturday session with one of the Jedi kids. He caught my eye and smiled and waved, and I panicked and waved back and scurried away.

Why did he smile at me? I thought he didn’t like me. I mean, he doesn’t have a reason to like me. Fannie started hanging out with me all the time immediately after they broke up. But then, Jedi aren’t allowed to, like, not like people, huh.

…I could never be a Jedi.

Eventually, I gave up the search and headed to Luke’s office, which was where he and I had been planning to meet and catch up. And, ha—of course—as the Force would have it—well, I don’t even need to really say it, do I?

“…it’s just so hard, Luke. I love him so much. I don’t think I could even begin to tell you how much I love him.”

I stopped in my tracks, about five feet away from Luke’s office door. My heart started pounding. It was her. And then I felt the absolute weirdest cocktail of emotions—giddiness and affection because that’s my freaking wife I love the sound of her voice AHHHHH I haven’t seen her in a whole entire month!! I love her so freaking MUCH and absolute terror because we haven’t talked for four days what’s gonna happen if she sees me??? and indignant anger because wait what the frick who gave her the right to tell my uncle about all this, I haven’t even told my parents yet, she never asked my permission to tell anyone and insane delight because hold on did she just say she loves me?? and then immense sadness because oh yeah, but, she’s questioning whether she and I should even be together at all…

I slumped against the stone wall and tried to catch my breath. She sounded all stuffy, like she’d been crying.

“I love him, Luke. Ever since I first saw him, and so much more as I’ve gotten to know him, and…this feels like the only thing I truly want. I have learned not to want. I have learned to be content in all things. But, I have always liked him, and I have never thought he would feel the same way, and now that he does, I can’t—can’t let go.”

Muffled sobs. My heart wrenched. I mean…yeah, there was all this…stuff…between us now, but…I still hated for her to hurt. And…I didn’t know she liked me so much.

I don’t think I’ve ever been the one thing someone’s wanted before. I felt this sort of…profound ache, I guess, that I never knew I had inside me. Because…yeah. I am constantly fighting the delusion that everyone hates me and wants me gone. I know better than to give these thoughts credit, but a couple times a week I find myself wondering…would it really make a difference to anyone if I disappeared?

So…all of a sudden, as soon as she said that, on top of everything else—I wanted so badly for someone to want me half as much as she said she did. To be so important to someone as to be the one thing they wanted out of life…? Damn.

Snoke had made me feel that way—well, not exactly that way—but something a little like it. I had been special to him. Until I disproved my usefulness, I guess.

My uncle’s gentle voice from the other room broke through my thoughts.

“Fannie,” Luke was saying, in that warm, measured tone of his. “You are very wise, and I am very proud of you. You have learned the way of the Jedi. You have learned to know yourself. To know your desires. To recognize the needs they reflect. I find it so completely natural that you would have feelings for Ben. He’s a sweet kid, and reminds me so much of his dad. And I know the two of you have shared a special friendship. I think you’ve meant a lot to him. You’ve been able to connect with him more than any of your other classmates have. I know he means a lot to you. But, I also think you know what is right. He’s not a Jedi, Fannie. And he is not in touch with the Force.”

I chewed on my lip and slowly slid down the wall until I was sitting on the stone floor. I tried to make sense of Luke’s words. Yeah, I wasn’t a Jedi. And neither was Mom. Was that how Luke felt about us? How he felt about me? That just because we weren’t like him, we were doing something wrong? That there was something wrong with me?

Snoke’s words echoed in my mind. If you ever strayed from your uncle’s narrow view of the light…

“If you choose to bond yourself to him, Fannie, it would be a difficult road,” Luke was telling her. “Permit me a farmer’s analogy: a team of banthas cannot travel far, if they are each headed in different directions. You might pull him one way, true. He might also end up pulling you astray.”

Astray? It wasn’t like I was a Sith Lord. I was just…you know…a guy.

“But…suppose I were able to teach him, Luke. Suppose that, by loving him, I could show him the light…”

“Hm. The Force may choose to work in such a way. But…I suspect it would do so as a mercy, rather than as a rule. Would you want to bank on that, Fannie? And would you want him to become a Jedi, not of his own will, but for your sake?”

She was quiet for a moment. And then:

“…Master Luke…do you think it…possible…that Ben might choose to seek the Force on his own?”

“Do you?”

“Well…I do think it’s possible...”

“As do I,” Luke agreed. “All things are possible, Fannie. You know I believe that. I believed that about my father, and I believe that about your father. How much more, therefore, do I believe it for Ben. But…whether Ben chooses to center his life around the light is really up to him. You can’t make him. And I can’t make him. And even the Force itself cannot make him. He must choose. And you must choose.”

My knees started bouncing rapidly in that nervous way my mom always hated.

“So…what will you choose, Fannie? Will you choose to serve the light side of the Force, above all? Or will you choose to serve your desire? Even a good desire?”

A full minute, spent in silence. That was so Fannie. I would have chuckled—if I wasn’t currently being driven insane.

“…I am a Jedi,” I heard Fannie say finally. “So…the answer is clear. Albeit painful.”

My stomach plummeted.

The shuffle of robes. I think Luke was hugging her. As if to reward her for driving a stake through my gut.

“Your desires are not wrong, Fannie,” my uncle told her. “I know you love him and care for him. Your love for him is a beautiful thing. Your desire to love and be loved is a beautiful thing, and a right thing. But where will you choose to meet your good desires? How will you choose? By whatever is easiest? Whatever is fastest? By wherever you feel the strongest pull?”

“…By wisdom, Master Luke.”

“Yes. By wisdom.”

“For this is the way of the Jedi.”

“Yes. This is the way of the light.”

My eyes darted back and forth between all the little cracks in the floor as I tried to wrap my head around all this. Fannie…

Why…

…I didn’t understand.

I felt kind of nauseous and the back of my neck prickled up with sweat and my pinky toes started to hurt.

And suddenly I felt this…intense…rage…come upon me. Because…who would choose this? Who would choose to serve a power that required you to give up the things you wanted most? Snoke had tried for years to control me…to take everything I had…only for it to turn out that the light side of the Force was exactly the same.

My throat tightened up. If there had been any curiosity for the Force left in me at that moment, it died.

And then my anger turned toward my uncle, and his narrow-minded beliefs, and his stupid Jedi cult.

I blinked back tears. My ears felt all hot. And I began to hear them again…more clearly this time…those voices that called for me and crooned my name.

I stood up—maybe a little too fast—my head spun—but it was already spinning anyway. And then, I decided—

…Well. Wait. Before I go on.

What do you think I should have done?

[goldaegontargaryen]

The Prince and the Commoner Lord: with @jonswann

A breeze whipped through the streets of King’s Landing, ruffling the strands of Aegon’s white blonde hair as it passed.  The moon was full and the night was young.  Aegon intended to take full advantage of it.  

He enjoyed living on Dragonstone more than he’d expected to, yet he couldn’t help but sometimes yearn for the nightlife of King’s Landing.  He certainly didn’t feel the need to fall back into the complete debauchery of his youth, but there was a certain carefree feeling he couldn’t find anywhere else but here.  Even though almost everyone who frequented these streets knew who he was, out here he didn’t have to live up to being Prince Aegon Targaryen.  Nobody expected him to be polite or wise, he could simply exist without fear of reproach.  

Torches had been lit along the street to push back the darkness and most of the establishments had thrown their doors wide open to expose the laughter and life occurring within their walls.  Aegon had visited almost every tavern and brothel on this street at one time or another and the familiarity of it all soothed him after the chaos and political machinations he’d been forced to endure at the Red Keep.  The most manipulation he had to worry about here were the winks and cheerful calls from the girls standing in the doorway of a nearby brothel.  

Tonight though, a brothel wasn’t his goal.  In fact, it hadn’t been for a very long time.  Perhaps it was a maturity that came with age or simple love and respect for his wife, but Aegon didn’t find the pleasure in women that he’d once sought out almost compulsively.  Deep down, he thought it might be because he was happy with his life and his family.  Melancholy could still curl its claws into his chest, but he no longer felt the persistent need for distraction of any sort.  

That being said, Aegon still enjoyed the distraction provided by a tavern and a few cheap beers.  The parties in the Red Keep were so uptight and stuffy that he craved a place that allowed him to let loose and focus on nothing but himself.  He ducked into a smaller tavern on the edge of the street, drawn in by the crackling fire and the loud cheers of a group of men who were playing dice at a table near the door.  

As Aegon stepped in, he surveyed the room.  Besides the large group of dice players and a few lone men at the bar, the place was empty.  However, it was still early and Aegon expected the tavern to quickly fill with more patrons as the night wore on.  

Aegon made his way to the bar, taking a seat next to a dark haired man in simple clothing.  Normally, he would have ignored him completely, but something about his face sparked a sense of recognition.  His first instinct was to think he had met this man on one of his previous revelries, but he couldn’t pull up the memory.  It was only when the man turned his head slightly more in his direction that Aegon caught sight of his eyes and true recognition struck him.  He wasn’t completely sure of the man’s name, but he knew he was lord of some house or another.  Something that started with an S, he thought.  Perhaps Swyft or maybe Swann.  Aegon hadn’t actually ever been introduced to him, but he’d seen him around the Red Keep.  

“What are you doing here?” Aegon asked, the words tumbling out before he could censor the slight judgment and confusion in his voice.  It wasn’t his presence in a tavern that shocked him.  Aegon was many things, but he wasn’t a hypocrite.  Instead, it was the man’s common clothing and demeanor that surprised him.  Aegon himself was wearing fine clothes and a clearly expensive dark cloak, and with his light blonde hair, there was no mistaking that Aegon could be anything but a prince of House Targaryen.  “You’re a lord, correct?  I’ve seen you at the Red Keep.” 

[oftlunarialmoon]

DIY Agere Accessories to Make While Bored at Home! - LINK LIST

Ciao lovelies! You all have been asking for more Agere content and I’m here to deliver! While I haven’t had the time to make any new DIY tutorials for you all because I’ve been moving into my new home and doing online school, today I have gathered up links to as many of our posts that contain DIY’s that you can use to add Agere themed cuteness to your wardrobe! With each DIY link I will be explaining how it can be used for Agere. I will also be making categories, so scroll through to find whatever you’re looking for. If you have any DIY’s you’d like to see that aren’t on this list, be sure to leave a comment below!

I hope you all enjoy this link-filled post of DIY Agere accessories to make while bored at home, and hopefully I can make some new DIY’s for Agere soon! For now, let’s get into the list!

HAIR ACCESSORIES

1.       DIY Cat Ears Headband – This can be worn with just about any Agere or Kidcore outfit. You can make this DIY in any colors you’d like, and with or without the bow. I have so many cat-ear headbands that I wear with my Agere and kidcore outfits, and even with my other outfits. I think they’re a fashion staple, at least for me they are!

2.       DIY Monster High Bows – I LOVE Monster High, both when regressed and not. I think it’s a great show and movies for any age regressor. Naturally, I had to make a DIY of some MH themed bows. You could wear these in your hair, but also you could clip them onto the straps of a pair of overalls too!

3.       DIY Unicorn Headband – Another super cute headband DIY. This headband can be worn with any cute and colorful outfit. I think it would fit in great with a rainbow themed kidcore or Agere outfit. Plus, you can use it to play dress-up or pretend!

4.       DIY Pokemon Hair Clips – These are perfect as hairclips, but you could also glue on safety pins instead of hairclips, to make these into pins for a backpack or to go on a pair of overalls or even to pin onto a cool jacket!

5.       DIY Mini Top Hat – This little top hat is perfect for playing dress up with! I also love pairing this hat with kawaii-themed outfits, not just for dress-up. I think this little hat would make a great accessory for you or a stuffie to wear to a tea-party!

6.       DIY Summer Themed Tiara/ DIY Mermaid Tiara – This DIY is perfect for a Mermaid themed Agere or Kidcore outfit. It’s also perfect to play dress up as a sea-themed Royal! It’s not too terribly hard to make but I’d still ask for help from a friend, or make it when not regressed.

BAGS/PURSES

1.       DIY Tote Bag from a Dishtowel – This DIY is one of my all-time faves that I’ve ever made. If you regress to a slightly older age, you could potentially make this while small, but I think I’d prefer to make it while not regressed. But it pairs nicely with an Agere or kidcore outfit depending on the pattern of the dishtowel you pick.

2.       DIY Cat Purse – Another DIY I’d recommend to make when not regressed, as it is pretty complex. I based this post off a Yumi King tutorial (the video is embedded in the post that I linked.) I think this purse would go nicely with a pair of cat ears!

JEWELRY

1.       DIY Chokers Level 1 – OFT’s basic level 1 tutorial for making chokers. I love wearing chokers with every outfit. They just make every outfit look super cute, in my opinion. This can be made to look very kawaii, kidcore, or any aesthetic depending on the materials you pick.

2.       DIY Chokers Level 2 – OFT’s second level choker tutorial. This one is a little more complicated than the first.

3.       DIY Alien Pins and Ring – This is a very old tutorial from an old blog of mine that I transferred over. I think this alien jewelry set is super adorable and could work for a space themed Agere look!

4.       DIY Beaded Heart Necklace – Another VERY old tutorial from an old blog of mine that I transferred to OFT. This tutorial is a little complex, so I advise to make it when not regressed, but it’s cute to make in primary colors for a kidcore look!

So those are the DIY links I have for you all today! I hope you have lots of fun crafting! If you make any OFT DIY’s, please tag us on Instagram ( @onlyfunthingsblog ) or use #OFTreaders to get a shoutout, if your account is a safe account! (No gore, inappropriate things, etc).

[hiyuna]

golden! ☀️ keigo takami | hawks x reader

On one end of your apartment’s hall, there is you: a down-on-your-luck photographer with a penchant for bottling everything up. On the other end, there is Keigo Takami: an incredibly chill physical therapist that you once bet your sister wouldn’t look twice in your general direction. You lost the bet the very next day. Thankfully, the friendship that you’ve cultivated with him is worth much more than that.

— rating: t | word count: 5.3k | AO3 link!! — tags: modern!au  / no quirks!au / gn!reader / fluff and humor / slice of life / a lil’ angst but there’s some comfort too / i did a deep dive into photography in japan for this whole thing / this first part is set around thanksgiving so i mention it a few times

one.  ↪ the shared spoon.

"Pretentious artist notes... thirty-sixth edition? Or is it the thirty-fifth edition? Hmm. Let’s say the thirty-sixth edition for shits and giggles. Today is November 21st, 2022. It’s currently—roughly, I should say—ten in the morning. It’s freezing outside, but there’s no snow—thank god or whoever else is responsible for that.”

Your eyes drift from the phone on the round table beside your bed to the ceiling fan just ten feet above you. It lazily circles, set to the lowest speed despite the chill outside just to clear the stuffiness of your room.

“First order of business is the obvious failure from earlier this month. I don’t think I need to go over the whole thing again after the last two recordings. It’s time to move on.”

Biting your lip, you take a minute to go over the beginning of the month for what feels like the millionth time. There’s so much that’s happened in between then and now—a disproportionate amount of it more harm than good for your career, your mental health, and just... you in general. Coming to this realization in the timeframe hurt, but all of a sudden it’s hitting you here and now two days from a holiday while you’re sprawled over your comforter, tears welling easily in the corners of your eyes.

The next thing you say is whispered under the breeze of the fan as if it’s a secret you can’t even trust yourself to keep.

“How the fuck do I move on?”

What a question, a riddle for the ages.

Sniffling hard in a way that your mom would tease you over, you stretch the edge of your sweater over your fist and brutally wipe at your eyes. Your notes are no place for tears, and they sure as shit aren’t any place for wasting time, either. 

“Second order of business is moving on: where do I go from here?” You pause in your questioning to sniff again. “Touko says that all great photographers—really, all great creatives—are molded and made by the breakthroughs they have after a slew of failures, but I don’t agree. Neither does Kamihara... Granted, I’ve only ever seen the guy’s works and read his one single interview over and over so I could be talking out of my ass here, but I would confidently bet he doesn’t agree with that.”

You take a few moments to think, then let your eyes drift to the ceiling again.

“Okay, fuck it, surprise third thing. What’s the deal with ceiling fans? There’s something kinda... I dunno. Nice, I guess, in the way it moves. It’s not like a roll of the tide or the sway of a pendulum, it’s this ever-repeating circle. Which is pretty cool, because it’s only that way because I made it that way. I gave it perpetual motion when I turned it on, and it’ll go until something else stops it. That could be a good metaphor for one of the prints in the next gallery, right?”

You watch the fan above for a few moments more, then slap your hand over your face with a muttered curse. “What the hell am I even talking about? ‘Perpetual motion’ of a ceiling fan. This shit is too out there even for these notes.”

Thankfully, your ringtone begins to blare right then, saving your notes from another rant. You aren’t safe, however, as the sound causes you to violently jerk out of your moment of reflection and pop your neck in a way you weren’t expecting.

From a cursory glance that is accompanied by another curse, you can see that it’s your sister calling, and you immediately know that the call is presumably to accomplish what both of your parents could not. With an exaggerated groan, you tilt your head back between your flexed shoulders and close your eyes. You know what time of year it is and what holiday lurks right around the corner. You know it’s a time for family to gather and fellowship together. You know that it’s worrisome to everyone in your family that you aren’t making the flight halfway across the world to the States after missing Christmas. And New Year’s. And every other holiday that came before now.

Unfortunately... after a myriad of recent events, you really just can’t find it in you to care even an iota more.

Rolling over to your side to grab your phone and stop it from recording your voice notes, you say, “Bear is calling, gotta jet. See you next time, pretentious artist notes.”

Breathe in, breathe out. Putting on a smile that you desperately hope will assist you in getting through another one of these phone calls, you answer your phone and put it on speaker.

“Bear, my darling and beloved little sister,” you chirp, “if this is about what I think it’s about, you can stop before you even start.”

"So your mind’s really made up then? There’s nothing I can do to convince you to come home?”

“Nope! I’m fine staying back here this time. I’ll see you all in a few weeks anyway!”

Your younger sister sighs deeply, the exhale sounding equal parts exasperated at and forgiving of your stubbornness. The thought of her standing in the hall of your parents’ home on her phone with a hip popped out as she rolls her eyes at your answer is enough to make your lips quirk. As predictable as she believes you to be, she should take a good long look in the mirror.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me,” you playfully scold, “you did the same thing last year.”

“That was different! I was a broke freshman in college!”

“And I’m a broke photographer trying to live off of the money from my last gallery and an almost full-time job at the art museum. Think I’m justified in wanting to hang back for now.”

“Sure, sure. Just know that mom sicced me on you because she wholeheartedly believed that I could convince you. Dad was gonna get the other one, but he demanded not to partake in our quote-unquote ‘unhealthy family politics’.”

“Oh, god,” you chuckle as you press your fingers to the bridge of your nose, “who let frog get a sociology degree, again?”

She snorts along with you, “The real question is who the fuck let mom have him first? He totally fits into the whole ‘pretentious oldest sibling’ stereotype now, always going on and on about social bullshit. I’m so not ready for him to mansplain my relationship with Rina to her face in less than three days.”

“Ha! I’m getting plane tickets as we speak; I have to be there for that.”

“Ha, ha, fuck you.” She doesn’t mean it, of course, especially considering the way she’s clearly holding back laughter as she says it. The two of you let your laughter live its course before settling down, a warm sort of fondness that comes from a family like yours settling in the pit of your stomach. You’d almost like to let yourself pretend that you weren’t avoiding seeing them for a plethora of reasons, let yourself say to your sister that she convinced you to come back home and that you are actually buying a last-minute flight out of Fukuoka and back to the states.

You can’t do that, unfortunately, because a large part of yourself won’t let you.

It’s comfortably quiet for a moment on both of your ends before you hear a snap. “Hey, how was that last gallery of yours, anyway? I saw your post on instagram when you were starting it, but you didn’t post your normal wrap-up pic afterward. How many pieces did you sell? I bet they can’t get enough of you over there, huh?”

How easily that fondness can be ripped away and replaced with a pit of anxiety. You have to remind yourself to breathe again. “Uh, I honestly can’t remember how many pieces I sold, bear. I was really busy leading up to it and I had a shift at the museum like an hour later so...”

“Oh, uh! Sucks that you were busy! But I’m sure it was fun, and I know your pieces sold well. You’re a really great photographer, bug.”

You want to cry again. If only she knew that you only managed to part with two prints for a combined total of a little under a hundred dollars. If only she knew that you had a good crowd, but it seemed like everyone was only interested in moving to the next photo and not analyzing the themes in your works that you saw from behind your lens. If only she knew that your hours at the art museum went up because one of your colleagues moved to Tokyo just two days after the gallery.

You could tell her, but it would just add to the stress of everything everyone around you is going through. Your brother just had a kid. Your sister’s apartment caught fire a few months ago and she’s still trying to recover. Your mom lost her own brother at the beginning of the year, and while your dad has it relatively easy, you know he’s trying to be the strongest he can be for your little family. You don’t want to add to that just because of a few road bumps. And you won’t.

“Bug? Are you there?”

“Y-yeah, I just... Thank you for the compliment. I wish you could’ve been here to see it.”

“Aw, me too! Ooh, you should facetime me when you do! That way I can walk through it with the exclusive artist commentary like a dumbass billionaire with nothing else to do.”

That gets a watery laugh out of you. “You’ll have to text me and remind me, but I’ll try. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she softly agrees. “Before you go though... You know you can talk to me about whatever, right? I know there are fifteen hours between us and that messes with a lot of scheduling and stuff, but I promise to call whenever you need me. Just thought you should know.”

“I know, I know. And I’ll promise to do that if you can promise me the same, alright?”

“Of course, I promise! Alright, I think frog and company just rang the front door, so I gotta go too. Take care, bug!”

“You too, bear. See you soon.” And with that, the line drops, leaving you to stare at your phone.

One day, you will call your sister and tell her everything that’s been troubling you. You’ll tell her, then your parents, then your brother. And then, you’ll plan to take as long of a vacation as you can just to see them all. One day you will.

Just maybe not today.

The day passes you by after you get off the phone with your sister. You spend most of it curled into a tight ball on your couch with a positively gigantic fleece blanket draped over your shoulders like a wise ruler presiding over their kingdom...only your “kingdom” was your tv playing that one restaurant show that stressed everyone out this past summer. Another man’s treasure, right?

Around six, however, you decide to stretch your legs by taking a walk downstairs to get your mail and maybe see a neighbor or two. You could most likely benefit more from that than watching another episode in the dark of your apartment. So, you press your feet into a pair of canvas shoes, slip into your favorite jacket, offhandedly comb your fingers through your hair, and head out the door with just your keys and phone.

The elevator ride down is uneventful—one of the older kids living on your floor is on his way to get the mail for his parents and thoroughly ignores you by playing with his switch instead. Not like you’d have much to say, anyway. He’s courteous though, because he motions for you to get your mail first when the two of you make it down. You keep your voice to a murmur as you thank him, hastily grab your mail, then apologize as you scoot out of his way.

You don’t have much, thankfully. There’s a letter from the art museum’s director saying that you’re welcome to schedule another gallery for your works a few weeks into the new year that you sigh at, a paper bill that reminds you to sign up for paperless versions, and a thick yellow envelope from your mom. You stop in your tracks to rip the envelope open and find a card in the shape of a goofy cartoon turkey inside.

“Just because you aren’t coming doesn’t mean you can’t eat like we will. I’ll have your brother send you some money from me through those weird money-transfer apps you kids use these days. Treat yourself to some turkey on me!”

Oh, mom. You’ll have to call her the second you get back to your apartment. You don’t need money to buy a turkey—and you’re not even really a fan of turkey to begin with... The thought is very kind and very mom of her, and yet another show of love you needed from your family at this moment in time. With a slight pep in your step, you begin to walk back to the elevator while giving the goofy turkey another fond glance.

The second you do, however, you run into a giant and very solid... thing. 

Luckily, while you do stumble over your feet in order to regain your balance, you don’t fall flat on your ass in front of a lobby of your neighbors. Unluckily, you recognize the person you ran into, and he’s picking up the plastic bags you made him drop with a friendly smirk that makes you want to simultaneously want to hide and roll your eyes at him.

“Ah, Kei—oh, I mean Takami! I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry! You alright?”

Takami Keigo, your neighbor from the opposite end of the hall, laughs with a practiced poise. “It’s fine, I swear! Though I do have to wonder why you continue to call me Takami...”

“How many times—it’s polite to call you by your last name,” you grumble as you hastily squat down and yank the last plastic bag off of the ground before he could attempt to with your free hand. “I’m being polite.”

“You are very polite to me! I can’t say the same about the eggs in that bag, unfortunately.”

You stiffen automatically in shock, immediately (but carefully) peering into the bag to inspect its contents... and this time, you do roll your eyes. No dice. This is a bag full of food from KFC.

Keigo laughs again at the utterly unimpressed look you give him, the bastard. You have half a mind to whack him with the bag in retaliation, but it’s ultimately nothing more than a thought. Not only would that be incredibly rude of you, but it’d also instantly contradict your earlier point about being polite. Instead, you gesture to the elevator with the hand holding the bag, and when he confirms that is his ultimate destination, you go and press the button to go up.

“So, Keigo,” you emphasize just to be a little shit, grinning when he wiggles his eyebrows in response. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are things on your side of the hall?”

With an amused sigh, he tells you, “Same old, same old. Yuri’s as cranky as ever, Masaki and his baby girl are as adorable as ever, and Michiko is as man-crazy as ever.”

“Oh? What number is she on this month?”

“Three! And you know, she told me just the other day that I should be ashamed of forcing her to keep busy with other men while she waits on me. I was almost going to stop by just to tell you that when it happened.”

“I wish you did! How many times have you told her that you aren’t interested?”

“With that incident added? Six times.”

You grimace, though you know you’re doing a terrible job at keeping the amusement off of your face. “Well, if you ever need to get her off of your back, you can always call me. Can’t say I’ll know exactly what to do, but I’ll do my best to help.”

The elevator arrives then, a couple from a different floor stepping out first before the two of you go in. Since you have a free hand, you push the button for the fourth floor and then take your spot opposite Keigo in one of the back corners.

“Anywho, how’s your side—“

“—Hold the elevator, please!”

Without thinking you shoot your arm out to stop the doors from closing. A cloud of perfume and cologne engulfs you moments later as a small group of people squeeze in with you and Keigo, the highly incompatible scents almost enough to give you an instant headache. You shuffle backward a bit to try and minimize your contact with it, but thanks to the way these people have shoved their way in—and the fact that Keigo is now behind you—you have little room to work with.

“Look who it is!”

Jesus. Speak of the devil—it’s almost as if you and Keigo talking about Michiko somehow summoned her and her posse. You’d laugh if you weren’t dreading getting whatever they drenched themselves in stuck as a taste in your mouth.

Closer behind you than you’re expecting, Keigo mumbles a curse you hope only you hear before raising his voice to say, “hey there, Michiko! Throwin’ a party or something?”

“We’re just having a little get-together! You know you’re always invited to come around, Keigo. It’d be so much fun with you there.” 

“Aw, I’d love to, but we’re having our own dinner party for two tonight!” As he lies explains this, a hand falls onto your left shoulder in a friendly gesture. You try your damned hardest not to freeze at the unfamiliar touch, even as Keigo says your name. “Isn’t that right?”

“Totally—”

“—That’s just too bad,” Michiko cuts you off with a pout. “If it gets cut short for any reason you can always stop by!”

“We’ll be fine.” Oh, god, sometimes you can even surprise yourself. There are five sets of eyes on you the immediate moment after your curt reply, and you really don’t even want to imagine the look on Keigo’s face right now. Hate, hate, hate.

The rest of the ride to your floor—which is blessedly short—is spent in awkward silence on your and Keigo’s end. Michiko and her group converse about what they’ll do at their “get-together” in a way you presume is to entice Keigo to attend, but he keeps to himself. When the doors open up to your floor, they all step out without bothering to even feign letting the two of you leave first. You roll your eyes at their backs as you wait to follow, idling outside of the doors with Keigo.

“Ugh, they probably smelled good one-on-one but together? I think that could’ve been used as a torture tactic,” you (somewhat) over-dramatically cough the second they’re all in Michiko’s apartment with the door shut.

Keigo snickers at that, eyeing you carefully. “Yeah, that was a lot. Are you okay?”

You raise an eyebrow, following after him when he starts toward his side of the hall. “I mean, I guess; it was just another typical conversation with Michiko. Why do you ask?”

“We kinda summoned her back there. She also tried to walk right over you and it was rude, which I didn’t point out.”

“It’s okay, I promise! It was uncomfortable as hell, but if it weren’t for you it could’ve been way worse. Thankfully we’re out of it now.”

He stops in front of his apartment door to look back and give you a lopsided, yet genuine smile, his normally sharp eyes softening into something almost as sweet as honey. Right then and there you feel like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. 

Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and it is so unfair in so many ways.

“So, are we having dinner together or what?”

You can’t help yourself. “What?”

“Wow. I didn’t think people actually still made that joke.”

“A joke—I’m not making a joke here,” you hastily explain, “I’m genuinely confused. Was that not just a trick to get Michiko off of your back?”

“Sure it was, and I’m making it into a genuine invitation right now! We were catching up and Michiko interrupted, so why not just eat together and finish our conversation?” At this, Keigo turns back to his door and unlocks it, striding in without waiting to hear your answer.

With a slightly exasperated huff at his nonchalance, you follow him inside and close the door behind you while asking, “Did you even get enough food to feed two people?”

“Of course! I always get more just in case I’m feeling extra peckish. And if we run out of this, I guess I could make a salad on the fly. Anyway, welcome to my humble abode!”

The gravity of the situation hits you the second you turn on your heels to face him and his living space—the place he calls his own and has carved out as a natural extension and expression of himself.

You’ve never been in his apartment before, not like this. And on second thought, he’s never been in yours like this either. This is completely uncharted territory. In the eight-ish months you’ve been living in Fukuoka, in this apartment building, Keigo’s been nothing more than a friendly, utterly handsome face from the other side of the hall, one you’d occasionally see when heading out for work around the same time each morning, or checking your mail, or in one of the corner stores nearby. You just barely know that he’s a studying physical therapist with a job at a local gym and that his birthday falls sometime in the winter. His number is saved in your phone, but you can count the number of conversations over text you’ve had on maybe two hands. 

You barely know him, and now you’re waltzing into his apartment like you two have been doing this since you moved in.

Deciding to break the tension you’re suddenly feeling with something easy—maybe a compliment on his decorating—you glance around the space to take it all in. All of his furniture—from the couch and loveseat to the chairs rounding the square glass table—is pristinely spotless, a fact almost comically exaggerated by the fact that they’re all a shade of white that’s startlingly bright under the fluorescent lights above. There’s a plush-looking light gray rug on the floor and a deep red throw blanket on the couch with matching pillows that are seemingly the only splashes of differing colors out in the open. When you look to the kitchen, you see that it matches the color scheme, and your heart drops a little.

There are no pictures decorating the counters in the kitchen, no reminders stuck to the fridge by magnets, no half-burnt candles on the coffee table in the living room or the console with a giant tv. You expected a bit more from him on this front, even with the small number of his eccentricities you’ve witnessed firsthand thus far.

There are, however, two things by the sink: a single succulent with slightly browned leaves rounding its base, and a photo of Keigo beaming widely and waving at the camera with a serious-looking, dark-haired young boy at his side. This makes you smile a bit to yourself. At least he has that.

When you turn back to him, his face mirrors yours as he asks what you think of his place. If you’re being honest with yourself, it disappoints you that he seemingly only uses it as a space to sleep at night, but you’ll keep that to yourself. You could just be assuming—not everyone can fill every corner of their home like you strive to. So you tell him that it’s cool.

“Probably not as cool as yours,” he returns, motioning to the table full of food boxes. “You gonna just stand there or are you gonna leave all this chicken to me?”

Walking over, you ungracefully plop down into the chair across from his and smirk at him. “Since you’re being so generous, I guess I might as well join you for dinner!”

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

Keigo takes his seat after grabbing two plates from the kitchen and you both get to work divvying the food. He wasn’t lying when he said he usually gets extra whenever he eats fast food—there’s more than enough left over even when your plates are close to being full. As you dig in, you continue your conversation from the elevator and tell him that you haven’t been up to much other than working and taking time for impromptu mini-shoots when you can. He’s more attentive to you talking about almost nothing than you’re expecting, and it almost makes you choke on a chicken tender. Your recovery by asking how his studying is going is a little clumsy, but it nevertheless works. He’s been busy, he informs you in a neutral tone, and he wishes he could spend more time working at the gym due to the soccer season coming to a close.

His voice is tender and affectionate as he tells you, “There’s a youth league at the gym I work at. I was coaching the fifteen-year-olds before my course load got a bit too wild, and it was a lot of fun watching those boys interact with each other.”

That warmth of his is infectious, as you’re feeling it when you chuckle, “Must remind you of your high school days, huh?”

“...Guess so.”

Oh. Ouch. Wrong thing to say, for sure. Just a swift glance at him slowly pulling away from eating to place his elbow on the table and his head in his palm is enough to confirm it, never mind the faraway look he has as he stares into the kitchen. For the second time in an hour, your inner monologue is kicking you in the metaphorical balls for your slip-up.

“What is that, by the way?” Keigo juts his chin out at the mail you set on the chair beside you, clearly asking about the cartoon turkey at the top of the pile.

You snort, “A Thanksgiving day card from my mom. She’s going to have my brother send me money to get a turkey and thought that a card would be the best way to let me know.”

After you say this, you think for a second. Then, “You know? It’s funny. My younger sister called me earlier asking if I was coming home for Thanksgiving, and now we’re having dinner together.”

Keigo looks back at you with a slightly more lucid expression. “I’m sure they’re looking forward to having you back in the states again.”

“I think so too... it’s been a long time since they’ve seen me in person and not through a phone screen. You know, I’m pretty sure the last time I was in the states was early last summer for my dad’s birthday.”

“That’s not so bad considering the last couple of years. If you don’t mind me asking, why not go back for Thanksgiving?”

Million dollar question, that one.

With a sigh, you explain, “I’m in the middle of a rough time currently. Do you remember the gallery I had earlier this month? Only a couple pieces sold, and as much as I love working at the art museum, I’d love it even more if I could cut my hours back and focus more on photography.”

Keigo studies you for a moment, golden-hued eyes giving you a brief moment to peer deeper beneath the practiced mask he constantly wears. Normally you’d be a bit more bashful at openly staring at him like this, but at this moment he’s less of the neighbor who genuinely invited you to dinner with a lie to someone else and more of someone you’d willingly spend hundreds of hours studying just to come within an iota close to capturing him perfectly on film.

You weren’t wrong when you thought him gorgeous earlier, not even close to it. He might intentionally play himself off as carefree and casual to a fault, but you can see the tension that defines the hard edges of his jaw, the keen vigilance in the glint of his eyes.

Then the moment ends, because Keigo slides his gaze to the window without moving, and says, “That’s not all, though, is it?”

It’s not. And you really don’t feel like rehashing it a second time today.

He must gather this from your silence because it’s in the moment that you start debating whether you want to tell him outright that you’d rather not explain it to him or tell him as much through hints that he stands to clean the table. He takes your plate after confirming that you’re finished, placing both in the sink and washing them. Your conversation lulls in the space and quiet between you. At least until,

“I admire that about you, you know?”

For a brief second, you wonder if his goal tonight is to utterly confuse you. “You admire what?”

“You moving to Fukuoka from Chicago, of course!”

“Keigo...” you draw out the second syllable of his name in slight disbelief as you glance over your shoulder at him. “I packed up all of my life just to move to a city halfway across the world that I’ve only ever fantasized about only to actively be faced with the reality of doing that, and you admire that about me?”

Keigo’s smile is a little bit sad now. “What else? That takes courage, ingenuity, and resilience. You knew nothing about Fukuoka, yet you still sought to live here. You knew there would be a language barrier between you and an overwhelming majority of the population, yet you were working on your Japanese back in college if I remember right. You moved with a plan, you had a job with the art museum by mid-April, and you’ve made friends with a local photographer and that intern at the museum. So what if your first gallery here failed? You’re just getting started. Why rush it?”

That gets you to fall silent as he walks from the kitchen back to the table, a carton of ice cream and two spoons in his hand. He sets the carton—peach and mango is the flavor—down in the center of the table after taking the cap off, and sticks his utensil in it to take a bite. You absorb his words of encouragement in the meantime, pinning his words on a mental corkboard alongside your sister’s call and your mom’s card. When you consider yourself finished in letting all of the sentiments and affection warm you like your blanket from earlier, you find that he’s staring at you with a concerned furrow of his eyebrows.

“Thanks, Keigo,” you sigh, feeling soft-hearted. “Between my sister this morning, my mom’s card, and now this get-together, I think I’m feeling a lot better about everything.”

His once cloudy expression clears, and the bright, kindhearted look he gives you in return is all you need. “No problem, friend. Now, no more worrying! I thought this ice cream might be something you’d like and you haven’t even tried it yet. You’re making me look bad here!”

You scoff as he grabs your spoon and scoops up a hearty chunk of ice cream with it, looking all too pleased with himself as he waves it in front of your face with a smirk. Giving him a stink-eye, you snatch it from him and he guffaws, nearly dropping his own scoop in the process.

Why rush it indeed.

You stick the shared spoon into your mouth with a large grin and not a single worry in the world.

hi!! i’m yuna and this was written by me for me and i really needed to get this out of my system so here we are ✌🏾i don’t know how long this series will be—i have a handful of ideas but who knows what will get turned into a chapter—but i hope to be back soon, and i hope you enjoyed!! 💕

[landwriter]

Ten Books To Know Me

Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.

Tagged by @softest-punk, thank you for utterly derailing my afternoon into nostalgia <3 My problem is less not picking ancient books and more not picking exclusively Canadian and English children’s lit published between 1995 and 1999. (Still the first three picks all the same though because it is like, the opus within which my psyche is almost wholly contained.) This got long but I'm going to be very brave and not apologize about that at all. I love talking about books, and these are some of the books I love the most. In chronological order of arrival into my heart.

Some of the Kinder Planets - Tim Wynne-Jones This book has been a part of my life for so long I cannot remember when, exactly, I first read it - only that it was taken from my gran’s shelf; Tim had sent her a copy with a lovely inscription. It’s a short story collection which remains today (and forever) my favourite format. Ted Chiang’s Exhalation, Karin Tidbeck’s Jagannath, Karen Russell’s Orange World, Margaret Atwood’s Stone Mattress are all fabulous examples, stacked before me at my desk, but Some of the Kinder Planets itself lives (alongside my two most precious childhood stuffies) at my mum’s house, the safest place of all. The stories are kids being kids in the way you want to read as a kid yourself: clever and wondering and scared and brave. Special mention also to his Zoom trilogy, beautifully illustrated in black and white by Eric Beddows.

Skellig - David Almond Another book likely pilfered from my granny’s library. There’s a little magic in Some of the Kinder Planets, but here is ALL the magical realism, and it changed me. This book has a sickly bird-or-man-or-angel in a garage being nursed to health by a boy with an ill baby sister in hospital that he can’t help at all; the indelible image of surviving off bluebottles and then getting snuck Chinese takeaway and brown ale; nature and weird kids and William Blake poems. I will weep if I continue thinking about it.

[Not Any Book But Just A Lot Of Books] - Kit Pearson, Diana Wynne-Jones, Kenneth Oppel, Philip Pullman, Madeleine L’Engle, etc. Listen, I know this is an INSANE cop-out but if you know the authors you know more or less exactly what I mean. These are the books that made me more tender than I already was, made me believe in Good, and Kindness, and Love, in a totally immutable way I thankfully do not ever want to change, because I don’t think I could.

Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett My first introduction to Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, and footnotes. Also one of the first books I did not simply pick up because it was Lying Around. I bought it because my older cousin listed it as one of her favourite books on Facebook, and she was (and is) impossibly, horribly cool. I was maybe 13 or 14 and wanted to be cool too. I’ve since read a smattering of Gaiman but I’ve yet to read Terry Pratchett on his own. I’d like to! I know I’d love it.

The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul - Douglas Adams Loaned to me by my best friend before we were best friends. It is, apparently, the second novel in the Dirk Gently series, and I remember nothing of it except a very good bit about a couch getting stuck in a stairwell; nonetheless it’s listed here because this is clearly actually a thinly disguised chronology of sentimentality, and also because Douglas Adams is a wonder and delight to read and I don’t need to fully remember the book to know that in my bones. I’m not sure if it’s fair but I’ll also blame Douglas Adams for my inability to be brief and to resist using semi-colons. Could’ve been someone else. But it was definitely someone English.

Sailing to Byzantium - W.B. Yeats This is not a book, but it was in my English Literature textbook in high school, so it counts. If it wasn’t, I would still count it. Why a sixteen year old girl connected with a poem that begins “That is no country for old men.” is irrelevant, as is every stanza but the third, which contains the fateful, ruinous lines: “Consume my heart away; sick with desire / And fastened to a dying animal / It knows not what it is;” I remember when I read it, and I remember the chill feeling of Yeats’ spectral hand reaching all the way from his grave in County Sligo, across the whole Atlantic and the enormous landmass called Canada, to reach into my chest and cruelly grab my own heart, and I remember thinking How, and Exactly. The first thing I read that named the strangeness I felt inside of me. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost of all my teenage angst. Written on my bones to this day, if I’m being honest.

Hamlet - Shakespeare We got off on the wrong foot, after I was personally victimized by the line ‘Brevity is the soul of wit’, but I do love Shakespeare. I credit this to having an excellent teacher for it, and reading it aloud in a cohort of tryhards and musicians and theatre kids. A case of familiarity breeds...appreciation, actually. We did a lot of Shakespeare, but we were asked to learn 20 lines of Hamlet specifically, and rewrite them, marked down for every error. Forty lines for bonus marks. There was much grousing and it seemed like a cruel, outdated task of rote memorization, but writing this a decade later, I am belatedly realizing this was a sneaky way to get a bunch of kids to recite a soliloquy so much that they couldn’t help but find the life in it, the rhythm and meter to make it stick in our minds. And now look! I love it! I am writing fanfic in iambic pentameter! Wherefore art my fucking restraint!! I learned my lines so hideously well that when I pulled up the scene just now (2.2, from “Yet I, a dull and muddy-mettled rascal peak”), I a) noticed and b) was offended by, minute differences from the version I memorized, which I then searched out and knew the moment I found. Incredible?!  

Still Life With Woodpecker - Tom Robbins The most recent time I’ve read a work of fiction and been rearranged by it, at the tender age of 21. here I am, I wrote, in my journal, after a very good sob, happier and more rudderless than ever. This man writes with totally unfettered joy and unhinged sincerity, two things I am hopelessly into, but also with a deep distaste for institutions and conformity that I desperately needed back then: lost, returned from a year of magical realism and the sort of adulthood growth spurt that makes you feel dizzy, home and yet horribly missing the home I’d made for myself elsewhere, all my nearly-fulfilled ambitions towards security and prestigious government postings feeling sort of hollow and reeking in my hands. It comforted me that I wasn't wrong as much as it spilled my own guts into my hands, and while I went on for another year seeing things through, it planted a seed that quickly grew proper roots and pushed me right off the ledge of respectability. And it’s a love story, of course.

It’s his prose that sits glowing on the horizon to me when I try to write richly: a distant shore of orgiastic language (from which you can surely hear the wind-carried cries of people fucking day and night), towards which I, still shy and prudish, ever point my prow.

How to Be Happy - Eleanor Davis A comic collection. Sharp and wonderful and alive. Another Best Friend gift (bless those around us with impeccable taste), of which every single panel is MARVELOUS. I meant to share one of my favourites here but apparently it has! Gotten up and left!! I will buy another copy in hopes of coaxing it back out of wherever it’s hiding.

Down to Earth - Monty Don This did not rearrange anything. But it does give me a good hug about it, so to speak. A month-by-month gardening guide which is chock-full of brilliant, sensible advice, and also so cheerfully comforting in a highly specific English way that I actually feel like I’m drinking a cuppa whenever I read a page or two of it. It makes me think of my grandmother. And so we’ve come full circle, eh?

I hope some of you are now nodding thoughtfully and thinking, well, Chrissakes, that explains it. Very sorry, hope this helps, etc. Passing on the tag to @fancy-rock-dove, @chubsthehamster, @broomsticks, @wordsinhaled, @btwimkindagay, @hardly-an-escape, @xx-vergil-xx, @that-banhus, and anyone else who wants to expose themselves on main and chat about their fave books