#anyway. this got too long. love and peace my final message

[vero-niche]

trying to play morality police in the trigun fandom is so funny, like how are you a fan of the "incestual sexual assault trauma" show and then be outraged to see incestual fanart. my preference is not them either but cmon guys the call is coming from inside the house

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader pt. 2

✧ warnings: violence and force, yandere behavior, descriptions of dismemberment, blood, stalking, police, nsfw content, kissing, angst, smut, breaking in, attempted murder, cuts, dead dove, probably more stuff

✧ a/n: my most requested fic at the moment! i decided to take some of your suggestions and add my own twist at the end + yandere name reveal!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

yandere cheater wrestles you into his car after he drags you outta the cafe you’re in, unyielding as you try to pull away. the second he shuts the door and jets to the drivers side, you force yourself out the door and sprint down the street.

you hear his yells as you increase your speed, you knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him for long. not only was he more athletic than you, but a look back revealed his terrifying expression. he was clearly set on catching you, having the advantage in his relatively relaxed clothing opposed to you, who was dressed for a date.

knowing you couldn’t beat him you came to a sudden stop of to the side of the sidewalk and he rammed into your side. stumbling back a few steps you stopped him. eyes wide and hair blown back, he looks at you mildly surprised.

“wha-” you interrupt him this time, taking advantage of his surprise by slapping a hand over his mouth.

you bring on an expression that you think is intimidating, “leave me the fuck alone, i don’t know what the hell you want but i’m not taking you back”

he scoffs like he has you all figured out, taking your hand off his mouth to reveal a smirk underneath. “guess mother dear will find out about your… escapades then”

smack!

you slap him across the face sharply, sound reverberating around you and leaving a tinge of red on his cheek. his mouth gapes as he looks back at you even more surprised, what happened to the mild mannered girl who he had cheated on dated?

“release those anywhere and i will fuck up your life asshole” you fume, hand still in the air as if to threaten him for another slap. “you’re the one that decided to cheat on me with every girl we knew. fucking own up to it”

you were sick of his shit, who did he think he was? you huff out a quiet fuck off as you pass him, shoulder bumping against his. as soon as you rounded the corner you sprint to a nearby parked cab, slamming the door on your way in.

“to the university dorms please”

yandere cheater runs after you too late, rounding the corner as you take off in the cab. poor baby, you were still hung up on him cheating? he didn’t even really like those girls anyway, they weren’t good for anything except their bodies.

but you, you were it for him. he’d do anything to see your cute smile again, to see you whimper on his cock. he felt his swollen cheek, your anger may come in the way of him proving his love, but you’d understand in the end. how deep his love ran. all he had to do was prove was that those girls meant nothing.

two weeks had passed, two long peaceful weeks. your ex finally seemed to give up, the barrage of text messages and calls diminishing to radio silence and constant gifts at your doorstep suddenly stopping. maybe you were more intimidating than you thought.

the second you got home after the encounter, you had called your mother and explained everything. although she did yell at you for a solid hour due her disappointment in you sending out explicit photos of yourself, she understood your situation. after giving her instructions on blocking your ex if he tried to reach out to her you were finally at a peace of mind. at a zen. maybe you could turn a new leaf, you deserved it.

of course you had fucking jinxed it, just when you finally thought it was all over, your ex had tried to force himself back in your life again. deep down, you knew he wouldn’t give up that easy. he’d always be stubborn to a fault.

two weeks after the encounter a small navy present box appeared in from of your new dorm room door. still groggy with sleep you rubbed your eyes and picked up the box, bringing it inside. after contemplating for a minute, you finally decide to open it. in your sleep ridden state, you reasoned that it was probably something you’d left behind at your ex’s house.

it takes a minute to register the contents of the box, but when you do

“OH MY GOD”

you scream and stumble back.

two bloodshot green- brown eyes were pressed into the shiny white silk inside, the area around them a tinge of red. that alone could be passed off as a cruel prank by some immature students but the unmistakable metallic scent of blood lingering in the air said otherwise. that and the only other item in the plush silk: a silver bracelet with the initials ‘e.r’.

only one person you knew owned that bracelet and had those eyes, your ‘friend’ eva. but you had blocked and lost contact with her after you found her and your boyfriend together in the bathroom of the mall. there’s no way she would have just lost this bracelet either, you remembered her bragging about how it was permanent. being soldering together around her hand.

you were nauseous. oh god. you knew it was him, you just knew. sure you hated her but you didn’t want her to die. what the hell, what the fuck do you even do?

before you could think you grabbed your phone calling the only person you could think of.

“can you come over quick, please?”

20 minutes later a dark haired man rushed in through your front door, spotting you curled up in the corner. your eyes wide and still staring at the open box.

“(y/n) what’s going on?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly. you just point to the box and he takes a peek, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes shoot open “fucking hell…”

you turn to him, eyes teary “ray what do we do?”

ray was your one real friend through everything your ex put you through, and ironically your ex’s older brother. he was one that introduced you to your ex and thus he blamed himself for letting him hurt you, even though you’d reassured him that you didn’t find him at any fault.

he was reliable and kind, a shoulder to lean on when things got tough. you’d known him for almost two years longer than your ex and honestly if you didn’t meet your ex, the small crash you harbored for ray may have grown. after you met you ex you assumed that your feelings for ray had naturally died out but you couldn’t lie about the strange biting feeling in your chest whenever you saw him.

and even now he was talking care of you, taking you to the police station to talk to the police and turning in the bloody present. a few hours later you both were back in your dorm, sitting on the edge of your bed as you discussed the situation.

“look i really appreciate all this, you didn’t have to come with me to the station”

he smiles, “anytime (y/n), if it’s for you”

you smile back, face a little warm from his answer “that’s sweet”

he moves a little closer, your pinkies now you touching. “you’re sweeter, my asshole brother doesn’t know what he missed out on.” and you swear that you see his eyes flicker to your lips.

“really?” you ask coyly, leaning in slightly.

he nods slightly hesitant “if i had a girlfriend like you i wouldn’t dare disrespect her like that, i-i mean you’re thoughtful and pretty and-” he gets cut off as you lean up and press your lips to his. he immediately freezes up and you take his response as rejection, pulling away. fuck, he was obviously just being nice who even likes their brothers ex?

“i’m so sorry i though-” before you can finish apologizing ray’s lips smash onto yours, one of his hands in your hair to pull you closer and the other guiding your lips to his by your chin. in between heated kisses he mumbles,

“god i was waiting for so long,” a kiss.

“prettiest girl i’ve ever met” another heated kiss. his words of longing slur as he continues to kiss you, pulling you ever closer. his plush lips trail down your neck and to your stomach, slender hand playing at your waistband. his hooded eyes look up at you as his other hand wanders under your shirt. “can i?”

you give him a shy nod and he smiles, pulling down your pajama shorts to reveal white cotton panties. you cover your face with your arm out of embarrassment and he reaches out, keeping your arm down.

“wann’ see your pretty face, waited for it” you nod meekly and he flashes his dimples, continuing to pull down your panties and throw them somewhere behind him. your cute cunt, glistening with arousal was right in front of his face. fuck. gliding a finger up the slit, he watches as the slick from your pussy coats it. fuck.

an hour later he was in heaven, or at least you felt like it. buried deep inside your wet cunt as you moaned and squirmed under him

“ngh- fuck, so good fa’ me baby”

this was the stuff of wet dreams. he speeds up as he feels his orgasm approaching, praises and grunts slipping from his lips as he slams his hips against yours. soft skin against muscle, hot breath on your face from where he was above you. finally he pulls out with groan, wanting to stay buried in your warm. spurts of warm cum shoot up your stomach as he finally finishes.

ray collapses beside you, both of you sweaty and nude as you bathe in the afterglow. weakly, you smile at his tired form as you close your eyes, drifting to sleep in your warm bed.

bang!

you wake up with a start, wearing a shirt too big to be yours. must be ray’s. you look around the dim room and reach for ray, feeling nothing in the space next to your body. did ray… leave? that couldn’t be right. your bare feet hit the wood floor as you step towards your lamp and turn on the light. nothing.

you look around the bedroom and then head to the kitchen, turning the corner and switching on the light. immediately the kitchen floods with light and you gasp. the floor was tracked with blood, a trail leading from where you stood to your bathroom. was he hurt?! you cautiously approach the bathroom, a sharp metallic scent dominates your nose as push open the half open door.

“took a while to wake up didn’t you sleepyhead?”

your blood runs cold. it was your ex boyfriend. if the crazed grin in his face wasn’t unsettling enough the blood smearing on his cheek and splattered across his body sent alarms going off inside you. looking behind him you see the source of all the red.

ray. deep cuts run down his body, clothes shredded, and body half submerged in the now murky red water of the tub. on the tile floor next to him was your kitchen knife, covered in blood. without missing a beat you turned and sprinted to your bed stand, searching for your phone. there’s no way you would make it to the door in time, you needed to call the police and at least save ray.

haphazardly searching your bed and nightstand, you still can’t find your phone. where is it?

“oh lookin’ for your phone?” you turn to him. in his hand was the aforementioned object, light pink case looking uncharacteristically cute opposed to his blood-ridden form. “you’re a pretty deep sleeper hon, i mean i was rummaging around right next to you for this and you didn’t even hear”

“what are you doing raph?” you ask terrified, slowly inching away from him.

in response he approaches you, “what do you think? my girl runs off on me and the next time i see her she’s fucking my brother. you tryna make me jealous baby?” he leans in, expression seemingly amused but you knew better. he was pissed.

“and you’re wearing his shirt too” his large hand plays with the round collar of the tee, fingers ghosting over your collarbones.

“take it off”

eyes wide, you look up at him, “no i won-”

“take it off or he dies” raph’s face is dead serious, no traces of amusement left, stare burning into your face. “you want him to live right? i’ll call the police as long as you take it off”

you hesitate then slowly peel off ray’s shirt, letting it fall to the floor. raph had seen your body before right? it was a small price to pay for saving rays life. the action left you in only your cotton panties as you tried to preserve your modesty with your hands.

raph lets out a low whistle and steps forward, pulling you closer by the curve of your waist. chucking as you shiver due to his cold touch

“already forgot i feel baby? might needa reteach ya”

you look away from him, refusing to see the smug expression playing on his face.

at that moment you felt a wave of self hatred crash over you, why couldn’t you do anything about this? were you so weak that you couldn’t protect yourself, much less ray? but who were you kidding, you weren’t faster or stronger than raph. there’s no way you could get out of this situation with both of you alive without giving into raph.

raph places a rough hand at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. unlike his brother his touch was demanding and rash, the only purpose of it being to prove that you were still his silly girl. no matter how hard you tried to run away.

he coos at your troubled expression “where’s all that fire from before huh?” he grins at your submissive state, the one that he caused. “i’ll be nice, put your own clothes on. quick.”

was he playing with you? you take a look at ray’s shirt on the floor and then approach your closet under a guise of calmness, but a look at your shaking hands would disprove your confidence. putting on a bra, followed by a bottom and a top, then outer wear. anything to put more layers between you and him.

a look up at him reveals that he was already looking at you, probably to stop you from pulling another trick on him. he leans down to whisper in your ear but instead decides to press his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet smell. he mutters, face still in your hair “god i missed you” the sincere tone in his voice scared you the most.

he pulls away, expression distant and somewhat melancholy. “you know if you acted like a good girl from the beginning i wouldn’t have to do this”

before you can question him, his open right hand presses against your face, hard. the other hand supports your head to stop you from pulling away, body trapped. the bitter smell of something pressed on the tissue between your face and his hand floods your senses.

for the second time that night all your senses dull, and everything goes dark.

a/n: i know i know you guys wanted reader to get away from him! i just though this was more interesting then the reader getting back at raph and getting away with it. i like to make my yanderes stubborn loll. hope you liked the twist might write a part 3 ^^

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[itsmerelliwellie]

Call, NOT SEND A SELFIE! | Y. Nagumo x F!Reader

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For this pretty over here

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8.) "I told you to call me if you get badly hurt in a fight again… NOT send a selfie with blood on your nose and a peace sign.”

PROMPTS!!!

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Warning(s): There is some blood mentioned here and implied violence. Other than that, it's fluffy fluff fluff

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Your phone buzzed once.

Then again.

And again.

You were brushing your teeth, half-asleep, when you finally glanced at the screen. A message preview flashed up from My Beloved Yoichi (you were never going to tell him that you didn’t change the nickname he set up for himself in your contacts);

[1 Image Attached]

Yoichi: just a scratch Yoichi: still sexy tho right?

You blinked and dropped your toothbrush.

When you opened the message fully, you nearly choked on your own spit.

There he was. Yoichi Nagumo, sitting in what looked like an alleyway, blood dripping from his nose, shirt half-torn, and grinning like an idiot. He was holding up a peace sign. One eye was swelling shut. He had the audacity to throw in an emoji for good measure.

You slammed your phone down, grabbed your keys, and were out the door before you even thought to change clothes.

He was still in that damn alley when you found him.

“Yo,” he chirped, waving with the hand not clutching his ribs. “Took you long enough. You know I was trying to make this a romantic surprise visit to my beautiful woman?”

You marched up to him, yanked a gauze pad out of your bag, and smacked it onto his nose without warning before dragging him by the ear to your car.

“OW!” He pouted at you. “What the hell, babe?! I’m wounded here!”

You glared. “I told you to call me if you get badly hurt in a fight again… NOT send a selfie with blood on your nose and a peace sign.”

He blinked, then gave you a sheepish little grin. “Yeah, okay, but admit it—you smiled a little.”

“I almost threw up.”

Nagumo leaned forward, wincing, and rested his forehead against yours. “But you came for me anyway.”

“You’re lucky I did,” you muttered, carefully checking his side. “One inch to the left and you’d have a collapsed lung. Who the hell were you even fighting?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was just a really aggressive cat?”

You gave him a deadpan look.

“No?”

“Try again.”

He sighed, dramatic as ever. “Okay, okay. It was a hit gone sideways. Some rookie were out of their depth and thought I was an easy target. Joke's on them, I got away. Mostly.”

“Mostly.” You raised an eyebrow. “You look like you got into a street brawl with a blender.”

“You should see them.” He grinned, then winced when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked wipe to his knuckles.

You were quiet for a moment, working on cleaning him up. His eyes, the good one at least, never left your face.

Then he said softly, “Thanks for always coming when I do dumb shit like this.”

You paused. Looked up at him.

“Someone has to keep you alive.”

“You sure you’re not secretly in love with me?” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Secretly?” you snorted. “Yoichi, I just drove across the city in my pajamas and flip-flops. You think I’d do that for anyone else?”

He blinked again. A rare moment of speechlessness from him.

“So…” he finally said, “does that mean if I break my leg next week, I can get a kiss too, pretty girl?”

You rolled your eyes, but you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple anyway.

“Only if you promise to call next time.”

“Deal,” he whispered, smiling like a kid who just got away with stealing candy.

And then, of course, he ruined the moment by pulling out his phone.

“Wait—this angle’s good. Gosh, you’re beautiful, woman. Let’s do another selfie. First aid and flirtation? How ‘bout Blood, Bandages, and Bae? Too much?”

You groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, snapping the photo anyway, “you still love me.”

Damn it. You really did.

---

A/N: HEHE HEHE HEHE HEHE

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[juanbodyswapstfs]

Fair Trade

David was a hard working father trying to provide enough to maintain his son. The downside to this was he wasn’t spending a lot of time with his son martin.

Martin was an attractive young man but doesn’t know the potential he has in his body. It pained David that Martin wouldn’t use his body to its full potential.

One day, David came home early from work. “Hey Martin, im home early!” Said David. David didn’t get a response and headed upstairs. He saw the door to his bathroom opened and saw Martin jerking off to his briefs. “Dad!” Martin proceeds to slam the door in a hurry.

A few hours later..

Hey bud, You doing alright? “Dad, please go away.” Said Martin. “Son, I know how you feel, when I was your-“ “Dad just stop it! you don’t know how I feel.” Said Martin angrily. “Alright, Ill give you some time to calm down, when your done, come to the living room and we’ll have a chat.” Said David.

A few minutes later..

“Hey dad, Im sorry for how I talked to you..” Said Martin. “Don’t worry bud, I get your sexual desires hehe.” David said. “I love you but sometimes I just wish we could feel more connected.” Martin said. “Yeah, Hehe I wish you knew how good and strong your body is martin.” David said. “And I wish I could spend more time with you dad.” Martin said. “Well, goodnight my son.” David said. They both head to bed and sleep until the next morning.

In the morning

Martin wakes up feeling a bit sore and clumsy. “Woah why do I feel so big all of a sudden.” Martin opens his eyes and sees a huge bulge in his briefs. “Oh my god dad, why didn’t I know you had such a huge package.” Davids package was girthy and long with his balls big and manly. “Damn my armpits smell fucking good.” Martin whips out his new package and starts jerking off. “Ooohh yeah that shits good.” Martin then cums all over his dads chest.

On davids side..

David woke up and already knew something was wrong. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, “Hey handsome, Im gonna treat this body how it should be treated.” David Takes off his socks and smells them, “Mmmm” David takes out his package and jerks off. “Oooo fuck yeah im your country boy.” His hot steamy sperm squirts on the mirror. Martin then knocks on the door, “Hey Dad, you like your new body?” Martin says. “Dad?” “Im your son Dad.” David says in a cheeky tone. “Oh dad, im gonna use this body to its full potential.” David says. “Hahaha son, me too.” Martin says. “Alright im going to work” Martin says then leaves.

At the construction site..

Martin was trying his hardest to fit in as his father, He had to take a leak and went to the restroom. At the restroom there was an attractive construction worker guy pissing next to him. “Mind If I give you a hand haha.” Martin said. “Uh David?” The man said. “Just joking with ya haha.” Martin said a bit disappointed. The guy zipped up and left the restroom in a hurry. When Martin finally finished he walked out and saw his manager. “Hey david, Im sorry to say this but, your fired.” “Wait what?” “You harassed one of your coworkers.” The manager said. Defeated, Martin headed back home.

At Martins school.

David was having a blast in his sons body, winning every game and scoring a lot in gym class! “Haha beat that suckers!” David says. “You changed so much martin..” says martins crush. “People change my dude.” David says says. Martins Crush walks away sad. The bell rings and David runs home in his new youthful body.

At home

David and Martin arrived home in each others bodies. “Im sorry Dad, I got fired.” Martin said. “Oh thats fine, its your body now anyways.” David said. “Im doing well in school so fair trade haha.” David Said. Both Martin and David were satisfied with their bodies, David joined football and graduated with a athletes scholarship and Martin got a job as a Gay stripper.

So sorry for not posting stories in a while, I was kinda blocked on what to do next.. Message me if you have requests! peace out.

[lvstgojo]

my kind of crazy - satoru gojo

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: ̗̀➛ contains: satoru gojo | sfw

☁︎ summary: gojo is obsessed with you and thinks about some of the crazy moments that made him love you

₊˚ෆ warnings: none, just a sappy gojo

˚ · . word count: 718

✎ this was based off the song "my kind of crazy" by brantley gilbert. i have loved this song since i was a child. i thought he seemed so in love with the woman he was singing about.

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The sunshine had begun to sneak its way into your shared room with the strongest sorcerer in the world, Satoru Gojo. While you lay sleeping soundly, Satoru had already awakened and was staring at you, thinking about all the reasons why he loved you. He often woke up before you, but he would never leave the bed until you were awake. He didn’t like the thought of you waking up and thinking he had left. If there ever was a chance he had to leave before you woke up—he was a teacher, after all—he’d wake you to let you know he was leaving. You would drift back to sleep after he kissed you goodbye.

This morning, however, he didn’t have to leave. Satoru was a busy man, but today, he finally had the chance to relish the peace and quiet of his home with the love of his life sleeping by his side.

You were a wild one, but he loved that about you. You matched his crazy, if not surpassed it.

You’d come into the living room wearing one of his t-shirts and his blindfold, proclaiming that you were “the one and only Satoru Gojo” and “the strongest and most handsome guy to ever exist.” You’d be blocking the TV, but Satoru had long forgotten about whatever he was watching the moment you graced him with your presence. He would much rather watch you, anyway.

“Well, Satoru,” he would say, “how about when you’re done saving the world from curses, you let me get your autograph?”

You’d smile and lift up the blindfold so you could see him, complaining about not being able to see through it and not understanding how he could. He’d explain his Six Eyes Technique to you as you listened intently, and he adored how you always paid attention when he spoke.

You’d visit him at the school sometimes to sit in on his class. You weren’t a sorcerer, but he loved having you there. You got along with his students so well, and he even loved it when you mocked him and made the kids laugh. He’d pretend to be upset about his girl making fun of him, but secretly, he didn’t mind at all. It made him excited for the future, for the children you’d have together.

He hated attending meetings with the higher-ups, but he knew that once he left, he’d have messages from you, telling him about whatever you were doing or whatever was on your mind. You worried it might annoy him, having to read it all, but he looked forward to it each and every time so he encouraged you to continue. Satoru loved coming home to you after those meetings, eager to rant to you about them.

Anyone with eyes could tell how obsessed Satoru was with you, but Suguru really got to hear about it. If Suguru let him, Satoru would talk his ear off, not that it bothered him anyway. Suguru loved seeing his best friend happy. Satoru would tell him about all the crazy things you did—how the way you’d pout made him want to drop everything and give you whatever you wanted. How you never lost any disagreement, though you didn’t have many. He just thought you were too cute to stay mad with. He never wanted to be upset with you. Satoru spoiled you, and you loved every second of it.

“She’s a wild one,” he’d tell Suguru as they watched their students practice on the training field.

“She’s my kind of crazy. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

While he was thinking about you, he had pulled you back into his side and fallen asleep again. It wasn’t long before he heard your beautiful voice.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. He couldn’t believe that he got to share his life with all your crazy antics. He loved you so much that it was all worth his while.

- kasai ☁︎

[k-hotchoisan]

Hongjoong x fem! Reader

Rule #4: got you wrapped around my finger babe, you can count on me to misbehave. Swamped with exams and finals, it was hard not to feel stressed. Thank god your new teaching assistant was there, right?

The finale of the guide—the rules of being a heartbreaker are simple, but whether or not anyone is able to implement them without letting themselves falter is another thing. So do you falter against the four men you entangled yourself with?

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: general smut, dick sucking, dom!hongjoong, creaming, multiple orgasms, spanking, choking, studentxteacher

A/n: THE FINALE!!!!! Ngl I was struggling to find a way to tie loose ends together on top of thinking of a smut scene. And as we buckle up for the final ride, I want to thank everyone who has been interacting with this series, giving it so much love! ❤️💞 MAY YOUR TOILET SEAT BE ALWAYS COLD!!! THANK YOU FOR WAITING!

Tag list: @yourfatherlucifer @inniesworld (from twt!) 💌

❤️ how to be a heartbreaker: main guide ❤️

You couldn’t stop thinking about Seonghwa. When you thought about him, San flashed through your mind, then Wooyoung. You bit your lip. You simply wanted to have some fun, obviously, but at this point you were having way too much fun, being dicked down by three different men, and all of them able to send you to different realms of pleasure. You wondered if you had struck gold or entered a beast’s cavern by doing this. Nonetheless, one thing was for certain—you fucking loved the attention and how each of them fucked you so well, in their own unique ways. You could get addicted to each of their tastes at this point—as long as you didn’t get emotionally tangled with them.

Seonghwa had sent you back to your apartment before leaving for his work, and you stretched, still dazed over the sex you and Seonghwa had. You slapped your cheeks, keeping yourself in check. This was lowkey dopamine-inducing.

You left your laptop to charge in your room as you headed into the shower to freshen up. You only had one class today and you could come back to clear the remainder of your assignment.

The next few days you were stuck on campus, as the semester was ending, so were the deadlines, and for a good while, that took your mind off the three men, since you didn’t have the time to reply to their messages anyway. Miyeon barely had time to meet up with you, only doing so during her pockets of free time because she was caught up in her own deadlines, and sometimes she had to stay overnight in school to finish up. Being a fashion major was a lot more harder than you realised.

You started spending more time at a smaller campus library since it was a lot peaceful and quiet , despite being slightly out of the way. You did ping Seonghwa that you’d be pretty busy to meet him (well, if he wanted to meet) as well.

On some days, you stayed in pretty late and you’d see a boy with his nose in his books as well. He seemed to be always dressed in casual-formal clothing and he had stacks of papers beside an open laptop, his face hidden behind a pair of glasses and his laptop. But you didn’t have time to bother with the identity of that male because you had assignments waiting to be completed.

The next day, you attended your tutorial class and you spotted a new face standing beside your lecturer. Your professor briefly introduced the male as teaching assistant Kim Hongjoong, and you overheard whispers and squeals of how handsome the new teaching assistant was. Yeah, he was really good looking—all his features fitted all perfectly—even if the thick, black-framed glasses hid most of his features. He bowed slightly and walked over to the teacher’s desk, taking a seat. He scanned the class before beginning shuffling his papers before him, beginning to be engrossed with them.

The class quickly ended and you caught Hongjoong staring at you for a spilt second before breaking the contact. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion—for some reason it was as if you saw him around before. You shook your head at the insignificant thought, because you had deadlines to fight with, and your main worries were if the library still had seats.

On the way, you spotted a familiar figure from a distance and it seemed like he spotted you as well, as he stopped in his tracks for a moment before jogging over to you, his smile spreading across his face. His arms wrapped around you as you had to process the sudden physical affection from him.

“Wooyoung!” You greeted. “Don’t you have class?”

“Yeah, I’m on the way”, he replied. “But genuinely y/n, it’s so nice to see you around. I hate to be cheesy but I really missed you.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for kind of ghosting you and also for the things I said. Had a lot of stuff going on too.”

Wooyoung shrugged it off. “No, you’re probably right about it. I shouldn’t be an ass, going around and playing with girls like that. What you said kind of hit a sore spot for me though.” He paused for a moment. “I heard about what happened with San from him though. Dick move from him honestly.”

You took a sharp breath, tucking your hair behind your ears. “It’s whatever. It’d be stupid to keep on harping over this. I made it clear to him too anyway.”

“That’s great to know”, and he stepped closer, and your breath hitched. “I really, really missed you though. Let’s play again sometime, please?”

You felt your cheeks flush a little at how direct and flirtatious he was being. He didn’t stop there, as his fingers snaked in between yours, and he continued, “I stopped breaking other girls’ hearts already. I promise.”

You somehow found that so endearing and borderline adorable. He was pretty fuckingwhipped for you. You lifted both of your intertwined hands up close to your lips and smiled. “Of course. But after my deadlines and finals okay?”

Wooyoung’s contagious smile appeared as he nodded, releasing both of your fingers. He jogged back to his friend after waving bye to you. You stood there, swimming in your thoughts, thinking of when to meet Wooyoung again because truthfully, he was really fun, both on the streets and between the sheets. But you decided to hold that thought for another day as you picked up the pace to your usual library spot.

The library was pretty packed and that was starting to irritate you. It wasn’t Wooyoung’s fault that you didn’t make it in time because you willingly entertained him, but it was annoying that you couldn’t find a seat. You walked down each aisle, hopping to see a vacant spot at least, and you do—one seat left within a long row of occupied ones and was facing another student. You brisk walked over, approached the person sitting opposite it, asking if the seat was taken. His face looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

When he gave you the green light, youplopped your stuff onto the vacant table before sinking into the wooden chair, switching on the table lamp and pulling your laptop out.

The long table started to empty as dusk fell and your mess started to expand across the next table. Man, it felt never-ending with churning out the study notes. You stood up and stretched a little to get the blood circulating through your body, and your eyes landed on the male sitting opposite you. He was still engrossed with what it seemed like marking assignments? You glanced at his face and it clicked. It was the new teaching assistant! He blended too well into the ambiance of the library, that’s for sure.

“Ms y/n, I can feel your boring a hole in my head, you know”, he stated, still not looking up, and your gaze immediately travelled elsewhere after being caught red-handed. He finally looked up at you and you side-glanced him, soaking in his features. Shit, he was really quite the looker, and him staring right into the windows of your soul—even through the glasses—was starting to make your legs feel like jelly.

You plopped back down onto your seat, hiding behind your laptop screen. This time you felt Hongjoong’s stare right onto you.

As the evening dragged on, you began packing up, feeling the hunger pangs since it was dinner time already. You glanced at Hongjoong one more time, and this time he’s very engrossed in his work, tapping away vigorously at his keyboard. You decided to leave him be, considering he seemed to look determined to finish whatever he was up to. Pulling your bag up to your shoulders, you pushed the chair in as quietly as you could. But even that caught the male’s attention.

His eyes flickered to you. “Going off already?” He asked, and you could see the slight eye bags under his eyes.

“Yeah I’ve got other stuff to do”, you replied, forcing a small smile.

“Well, I’ll see you in class tomorrow”, Hongjoong responded, as his gaze goes back to his papers.

“See you Mr Kim,” you said, before adding, “try to get home early and eat something okay?”

And you swore you saw a glint of smile on Hongjoong’s face as he gave you a small nod before returning back to his papers.

“Assistant Kim has marked your assignments and I’ve checked through them. Should you have any questions regarding your grades or the assignments, feel free to approach either one of us”, your professor announced as he passed half of the load to Hongjoong to hand out.

As you waited for your name to be called out, you began getting lost in your daydreams, which got interrupted by your name being called by Hongjoong, who had to repeat your name twice. You snapped out of it and quickly rush to him. You met his eyes, expressionless, and then you glanced to your assignment.

It was a decent grade, but you wondered about the comments that were marked in red by Hongjoong’s rather messy handwriting. You turned to the teaching assistant, “Assistant Kim, could we go through the assignment together?”

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows but nodded. “Let’s meet at the library in the afternoon when you’re done with your remaining classes then. See you then.”

For some reason, your heartbeat quickened. Never in your years in uni did you approach your professors one to one. You walked back to your seat, and you classmate tapped your shoulder as she gushed, “oh my gosh you’ve got guts asking Assistant Kim for a one on one consultation!” You scoffed.

“It’s nothing. It’s not like he’s gonna eat you up.”

She sighed dreamily. “He’s so cute though. I’m too shy to approach him.”

It was pretty valid though. Truthfully, you just wanted to ask about your grade and assignment, you already saw a whole line of students choking the queue with your professor, so you deduced that it wouldn’t hurt to just approach the teaching assistant.

Surprisingly, Hongjoong barely took up spaces in your mind as you were trying to keep up with your classes. During your hour break, you went to catch up with Miyeon, who despite her endless amount of assignments, still put in the effort to look flawless. Nonetheless, you could tell her finals were wearing her down quite a lot.

“Hi bestie”, Miyeon greeted, giving you a tight hug. You returned the hug, hoping it’d energise her. The both of you linked arms as you stepped into the food court.

“What are the chances of a really cute guy as my teaching assistant?” You brought up, knowing she loved that kind of gossip.

“Oooh who is it?” Miyeon hummed as she poked the chicken with her chopsticks.

“This teaching assistant named Kim Hongjoong. The girls in my module have been fawning over him since the semester started.”

Miyeon shook her head. “Don’t think I’ve heard about him before. Got a picture?”

You pulled out your phone, attempting to search the student portal for his teaching profile, and Kim Hongjoong’s profile popped up, albeit his photo seemed pretty outdated, looking a lot more, um, nerdier than how he looked now. You flipped you phone over to let Miyeon see. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s him?”

You turned your phone back to you to inspect the photo. “Damn, that’s probably an old photo.” And the both of you snickered as you finished your food and catching up.

You were dreading to get back to the library, having to bury your nose in books again until dusk broke, or however quickly you were able to finish your study notes. You reached your table and you felt someone staring right at you. You glanced to the side and Hongjoong was there already, sitting beside you instead of opposite you. “Hi sir”, you greeted hastily, hoping you still looked presentable. You were about to at least settle down and apply a layer of lip balm or two and fix your hair but there Hongjoong was, with indifference in his expression as he greeted you back with a soft voice.

“Do you want to take five before we dive into your consultation?” He asked, his focus back on his laptop screen. You started wondering if it was gonna get even more awkward, so you declined. “It’s fine, we can get started right away”, you replied, taking a seat beside him, and his cologne hits you instantly. The session was barely starting and you felt yourself spiralling a little already.

“So,” Hongjoong began. “You actually did pretty well for this assignment. What did you want to consult about?”

You tried to best to focus and forget about the scent of Hongjoong just whirling around you. You glanced at your paper, and pointed out a few parts you wanted to clarify. Hongjoong, despite only a teaching assistant, was probably a hidden gem of some sort because even though you were fighting for your life trying to get his scent out of mind, you still managed to understand what he was saying to you.

When he finished, you beamed, pleased as you scribbled down his pointers, finally understanding.

“Thank you Mr Kim!” you smiled, meeting his gaze. Despite his professionalism, you saw a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Anything else?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Do you want to go through the exam guide then? The exam is coming up, isn’t it?” Oh right. That’s what you were studying for as well. Prof had handed out the exam guide like two weeks ago. You pulled out the guide from your bag, remembering you had scribbled down on the paper what you wanted to clarify but gave up immediately when you saw the snaking line of students.

Hongjoong gently took the paper from your hands as he studied what you wrote, and you suddenly felt self conscious of your hand writing. But Hongjoong simply pulled out a pad of sticky notes seemingly out of nowhere and started to tunnel in parts of the exam guide to take note, on top of going over your scribbled questions.

Time passed more quicker than your expected and you were able to cut your study notes down since Hongjoong was able to answer your questions.

“Thank you Mr Kim~ if I ace this exam, I’ll treat you something nice”, you hummed as you studied your study notes. Hongjoong only smiled in reply.

The next few weeks your spot in the library was beside Hongjoong. At some point, half way through your study session, you suddenly questioned him, “Sir, don’t you have an office? Why spend time in the library?” Things became more lighthearted the more you spent your time with him, but of course you were cautious since he was your teaching assistant.

“You can call me Hongjoong,” he corrected you. “And I do. I just don’t really like how cramped my desk is, since you know, I’m a teaching assistant.” You nodded slowly in acknowledgement. You went back to finishing up your notes and a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slowly shut down your laptop. Holy fuck, you were set for the exam. Hongjoong only glanced from the sidelines as a smile smile spread across his lips. He knew you were gonna do fine anyway.

The exam days came and went, and if it wasn’t the exam anxiety eating you up, it was Kim Hongjoong. His smell was starting to be very familiar—almost comforting, given you spent almost every week together. Even during the examinations, he’d sneak you small smiles as he gaze met yours while he walked around the classroom.

Sprawling your upper body as you laid onto the study tables outside class, you were relieved that the exams were over, only the final assignment left. Footsteps stopped at the bench you were at, and you, thinking it was Miyeon, automatically went, “hey babe-“ until you looked up. Hongjoong’s had an eyebrow cocked, and you slowly looked away as your hands slapped over your mouth.

“Babe?” He reiterated, almost smiling. You turned your head right back at him, hiding your embarrassment with the fakest smile.

“I thought you were my friend. I am so sorry”, you apologised, eyes still widened in embarrassment. He moved and took an empty seat beside you, and you realised how close he was the moment his familiar smell hits you. It registered even more the moment he turned to face you, your faces almost inches apart.

“Can I help you Hongjoong? The students are gonna say something if you’re this close to me”, you teased, the embarrassment from before gradually fading.

“Class ended like fifteen minutes ago, and this place is pretty far from our class, isn’t it?” Hongjoong teased back. Fuck butterflies, you had a whole ass zoo in your stomach.

You tilted your head in amusement, unknowingly inching nearer to his face. “Very funny, Hongjoong”, you humoured him. “What do you have for me?”

And Hongjoong was almost lost in your eyes for a good second, and if one wasn’t eagle-eyed, they’d miss the speed of how quick Hongjoong’s glaze flashed to your lips before going back to your eyes immediately.

“I’ve got news”, he announced as he slowly backed away from you, taking you in full view. “Your grades are out.”

You expression immediately switched over, scrabbling to open your laptop to log into the student portal. Hongjoong was leaning in, still smiling.

You logged into the student portal and your cursor flew to the ‘Grades’ section as you clicked. The webpage loaded and your grade was splayed across the screen. You had passed with flying colours. The dopamine rush hits you as you squealed. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was staring at you fondly the whole time. “I knew you’d do fine, y/n”, he reiterated.

“And now I owe you a meal. Well the semester’s almost over. I’ll treat you when I submit my final assignment”, you promised. Hongjoong nodded, satisfied with the agreement. Of course , he wanted you to clear this semester with a peace of mind.

With a final click, you push the submit button and your hands went up in the air in relief. “Fucking finally,” you cried out. Miyeon laughed. She was a lot more chipper since she was also finishing her semester. You felt a weight lifted from your shoulders, that’s for sure. The sudden reminder of having a meal with Hongjoong bubbled to the surface and you feel your heart racing. Right, you promised him.

“Oh look who’s here. Is that the teaching assistant you were talking about?” Miyeon whispered. Your gaze followed hers and you spot a gorgeously dressed male walking over. It was definitely Hongjoong. He was evidently in good spirits as he approached.

Miyeon’s smirk grew wider as she pretended not to notice and held her phone at her ears, pretending to be in a call. You couldn’t help but laugh at how shady she was looking

“Hey, y/n”, Hongjoong called out, his hands only carrying a leather briefcase. He’s dressed in a shirt, tie and trousers today, he had forgone his usual glasses, and your breath was almost taken away by how fucking good he looked. Almost.

“Hi Hongjoong”, you greeted, already used to calling him so casually. “What’s up with the look today?”

“Had a presentation so I needed to dress up a little”, he replied. “I think I aced it.”

“Mmm. Right. You sure would have”, you observed, eyeing him down. He did the same to you, looking at how your outfit was hugging you at the right places.

“Right. You haven’t forgotten our little arrangement right?”

“Well, you found me at the right time when I just submitted my report”, you hummed.

He placed his bag on the bench table and leaned towards you. At your peripheral vision, Miyeon’s eyes widened in disbelief as she was doing her best to suppress her laughter.

“Excuse my friend here. She’s having a whale of a conversation with her other friend”, you waved off before Hongjoong started to catch onto something.

Hongjoong gave Miyeon a tiny nod and she smiled back politely before glaring back at you.

“I’ll steal your friend for a date she promised me,” Hongjoong smiled as his hands grabbed your shoulders gently. And there it was—his scent again. Miyeon blinked twice before feigning laughter, telling the both of you to go ahead.

As the both of you settled into his car, a “damn you look good without glasses”, slipped past your lips. Hongjoong’s smile spreader over his face and you see it in its glory—his teeth were perfect and his smile fitted his face so fucking well.

“So you’re saying I look ugly with them on?” Hongjoong laughed as he begins revving the engine. You rolled your eyes. “You know what I meant, Kim Hongjoong.” Playfulness only danced in the glint of his eyes.

You tell him the location of the restaurant and the both of you set off, carrying your conversations in the car.

Unable to decide on a place to eat, the both of you ended up settling on eating at a local kimbap place. The conversations were mostly about school and assignments.

“So Hongjoong, why don’t you have a girlfriend? You know you’re like, insanely popular with the girls in our class right?”

Hongjoong almost choked on his food at the suddenly statement. “I’m flattered to hear that”, he coolly replied as he downed half a glass of water. “I think I just think my tastes are pretty, um, specific. We have really good looking girls in our class, but I don’t know, I just don’t think about them.”

You nodded in acknowledgment. For the most part, you observed him during consultation sessions right after class, and he would always have that virgin ass gap when a female student would approach him. It was pretty ridiculous now that you thought about it. Then your mind wandered when he had interactions too close for comfort during your study sessions and that one time when you called him ‘babe’ by accident.

You pieced things together quite quickly, but at the same time, you wondered if he realised it himself—or if he was just playing dumb with you.

“What about you? No boyfriend?” He asked, passing the baton over to you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Nope. I haven’t really decided on committing”, you answered. Hongjoong didn’t seem fazed by that answer, probably because he knew you were still pretty young.

The dinner went on pretty smoothly, the conversation finally drifting past mostly school-related to more personal things from there.

“It’d be a waste to just end the night here, especially since it’s the last day of the semester”, you hum into the night.

“What are you trying to insinuate?” Hongjoong asked suspiciously.

You turned to him and rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m saying, that I’m not done with the night yet. So I’m going off?”

“To where?”

“I don’t know. All I know that it’s too early to go home”, you replied, gently bumping into him.

“Alone?” He asked in disbelief.

You nodded. “Why not? Might get a couple of drinks on the way.”

“I have beer at home”, he spilled, almost immediately. “You don’t need to wander around by yourself.”

You turned to Hongjoong, and you realised he’s eyeing you up as his body stiffens.

“I don’t drink beer”, you answered, a smile curling to your lips, and you saw him slowly getting frustrated.

“We can buy on the way”, he quickly replied, inching closer to you. You let him stay on the fence of suspense for a second before blinking and agreeing. Hongjoong lets out a rather loud exhale.

He brought you to his car and the both of you drove off, stopping at a nearby convenience store to get your liquor of choice, then going back to Hongjoong’s place.

Hongjoong told you to make yourself at home while he went off to freshen up a little, and you go ahead and sink into his soft couch. It didn’t take him long to come back and he spotted you lying on his couch comfortably, your head craning over at his presence.

You sat up and he walked over, taking a seat beside you, your knees bumping against his. He cleared his throat and reaches for the alcohol in the plastic bag. The cap is popped open and you take the drink from, humming “thanks” as you take small sips. He stares at you in disbelief.

“I…was gonna drink that”, he said, blinking. You stared back at him.

“Are you saliva conscious?” You asked, before tipping the bottle upwards, your lips touching the tip again.

He shakes his head, something else clouding his mind as he stared at you lick the rim of the opening. He took the bottle from you after you offer and took a big gulp, telling himself not to over think.

But it only got worse from there. When you came back from a bathroom break, as you tried to walk past him, you trip on air and landed right onto his lap. As you tried to squirm back, it only got more complicated as you end up grinding against his crotch on accident, and Hongjoong’s patience was running thin. He tried to get you up, but that only caused a soft moan to escape your lips as his touch around your waist sends you small electric shocks.

Hongjoong snaps.

He grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the cushions, his gaze digging into yours.

“You’ve really had fun playing around with me, huh?” Hongjoong whispered as his fingers ran up your waist to your chest, then to your shoulders, and finally your neck.

You smirked back at him, inching closer to his lips, and he was ready to dive in, until you pulled away, a sly smile flashing across your lips. Hongjoong couldn’t decide if he loved it or not, but he’s done with your teasing, because before you knew it, his fingers were grabbing your jaw, and you saw something spark in his eyes as he turned your head to face him. His hand slowly traced down to your neck, and his grip tightened, sending electric shocks down your spine.

“But you love it don’t you?” You hummed as his grip relaxed, staring at him directly in his eyes. Hongjoong takes a deep breath, evidently unable to control himself.

“Well, you certainly made things a little more interesting for me”, he replied, lust taking over his gaze, and that only made you shiver in anticipation.

You loved how Hongjoong had his fingers wrapped around your throat, like he owned you, hitching your arousal. He gave your throat another squeeze, and your eyes rolled back a little more, stars splattered across the inside of your eyelids.

“You seem to be in bliss, darling. You like my hands around your neck that much?”

Your eyes rolled back to meet his, and your lips curled into a smile. “Yeah. I’d love it even more if you fucked me while you choke me like this”, you replied, your hands snaking around Hongjoong’s. You see hints of rationale snapping in his eyes and his breathing grew heavier. He dived in for a hungry kiss, licking and consuming every part of your mouth. You could barely keep up, especially since he still had his hands around your neck.

He removed his hand from your neck, staring at the soft pink imprints his fingers left on your neck. He wanted to paint it even more, mark it even more, like his own canvas, and the thought of it only went directly to his dick.

Of course, you were always there to be the instigator.

He unbuckled his slacks and pulled it off, leaving on his boxers and his erection painfully pressed against the fabric. You wondered how much more you should push him, because it was getting pretty evident that he loved it rough.

He tugged his tie loose, trying to undo it, all while his gaze never leaving yours. Since he enjoyed looking you so much, you wanted to rile him up even more, so you climbed on all fours and tugged his boxers down, and his cock freed from the fabric, a thin string of precum staining his boxers. Hongjoong’s significance wasn’t really his length, but definitely, definitely, his girth. You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, soaking his tip with your saliva. He groaned, his hands immediately travelling up to your hair, and tugging. Fuck, the electricity that travelled down your spine felt so good. You continued to go in deeper, taking in as much you could, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth.

“Fuck, y/n, you’re really a cockslut huh?” He grunted, bucking his hips, pretty much fucking your face at this point. His precum and your saliva were pooling at the corners of your mouth as your the vibrations of your moans only encouraging him to fuck your face even more. You fluttered your gaze right up at him and he almost loses it—you looking up at him innocently, with his cock shoved in your mouth. He pulled you hair back, and your lips leave his cock uncovered, now completely soaked, a string of fluid connecting from your mouth to his cock. Even that sight was driving Hongjoong up the wall—and he hadn’t even started fucking you yet.

His fingers stroking your chin as you looked up at him, you found yourself getting lost in his wild gaze. His hands found your hair again, and he pulled as his lips starved collided with yours, his kisses more aggressive than ever. The sensation of your hair being pulled tingling your pussy, the way Hongjoong’s tongue was soaking yours with his spit.

You managed to pull away slightly to speak, “Hongjoong”, you breathed, “need your cock in me, please.”

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow. “You’re already begging? But since you asked so nicely” His grip releases, and he lets you fall back on his office couch. He slipped his tie from his neck and tightened a knot on both of your wrists. The flashback of you doing that to Seonghwa flicked into your mind, suddenly remembering how fucked out and desperate he looked withering before you, and now you were below Hongjoong, in Seonghwa’s position now.

Hongjoong‘s fingers wrapped around your neck now, and you felt your sanity slipping every time he squeezed your throat gently. Before you could even prepare yourself, Hongjoong already pushed his tip into you, and then his whole length so quickly. The fact he was thick only made things a whole lot more mind-breaking for you, his cock stretching you out on top of stuffing you full. You threw your head back in absolute bliss, your legs shaking as he bottomed out on you, his cock just filling up every space in your cunt.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well. You’re squeezing me so much. Too big for you?” He teased, lightening his grip around your neck for you to respond to him.

“Hongjoong”, you cried out. “Fuck, your cock feels amazing.” Hongjoong smiled as his ego inflated.

“That’s a good cockslut. I’ll make sure you’ll see stars for the next few days even after today’s fuck.”

He pulled out almost completely, and slammed right in, the nerves in your walls feeling every part of Hongjoong’s cock, the sensation had you fighting against the restraints, and a voiceless moan escaped, the arousal heightening even more with his hand around your neck. He continued fucking you into the couch, releasing his grip from time to time to soak in your pleas and moans.

He released his grip around your neck, his lips diving to your neck, biting and sucking, leaving a wake of bites on your neck and shoulder as his hands travelled to both of your thighs to hold them up, and he continued fucking into you.

“So good. So fucking good, Hongjoong”, you whispered into his ear as he continued to litter more hickeys across your bare skin. “Fuck me deeper, please.”

He smirked as he slammed right into you, sending more sparks behind your eyelids. Your legs trembled from the pleasure, loving how deep Hongjoong’s cock was driving into you.

“Hongjoong, I think I’m gonna cum”, you cried out, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“That’s my good girl”, he hummed, gently combing your hair back behind your ears. You were spiralling—how the fuck is he so aggressive and so gentle at the same time?

You bursted into pleasure as your orgasm consumed you whole, loving how he fucked you so deep as you creamed on his cock.

He began rutting into you, desperately trying to reach his orgasm. “Cumming… fuck”, he trailed off as he pushed in deep, spurting his cum right into your quivering hole. Your body was shaking from the pleasure as he released in you, whining and whimpering.

Hongjoong pulled out, and grunting at how sensitive his cock felt as he pulled out of you. His cum leaking out of your pussy only made you shiver even more, as he stared at your pussy quivering and pushing out his semen. He looked proud.

Hongjoong then walked over to grab a box of tissues after releasing his tie from your hands. He kneeled down, in front of your spread legs.

“Don’t move”, he instructed as you were still trying to catch your breath. He pulled out a handful of tissues and gently wiped you down. When he deemed that your pussy was not overflowing with his cum at least, he discarded the used tissues into the bin. He rubbed your thighs as you slowly sat up, then taking your hand into his, looping his other arm around your waist as he led you to his bathroom. Your heart fluttered how gently he was treating you, especially after fucking you so hard.

“Thank you Hongjoong”, you couldn’t help but say, avoiding his gaze. For fuck’s sake, he was the teaching assistant. And you just had sex with him in his apartment. His place was really out of the way, so when he offered you to stay the night, you agreed.

Only you realised it was a mistake when you changed out to one of his dress shirts, with only a pair of underwear underneath, Hongjoong couldn’t help himself, towering over you the moment you sat on the bed, trapping you between his arms before hungrily kissing you. The sight of you in his shirt had turned him on so much that he insisted you leave the shirt on when he pulled down your panties, and fucked you senseless with his shirt on—twice. He made sure that he unloaded everything into you, panting about being getting hard again the moment he pulled out and seeing you with cum leaking from your cunt while your face was flushed with pleasure, in his dress shirt. For some reason, that set him off.

Mingi was around your apartment with Miyeon, and he jumped as he read a message from his phone. “Y/n, I think you best prepare yourself.” You turned to him, confused, “for what?”

“It seems like San, Woo, Hongjoong and Hwa found out you slept with all of them and Hongjoong wants to meet you.”

“I mean they were fucking good though, like, no lie.” This only earned Mingi’s eye roll.

“I don’t know how you did it but, you definitely got these men hooked. You’d better find a way to settle this.”

Sure enough, a message pinged on your phone from Hongjoong, asking to meet up at a nearby cafe.

You entered the cafe, already knowing what to expect, as you neared a table with four familiar men. Wooyoung had his arms crossed with a pout on his face, San was looking up at you with thinned lips as he scratched the back of his head, Seonghwa with his usual smile, giving you a polite bow as you approached, and Hongjoong pushing his glasses up.

“Right. I forgot you all knew each other,” you huffed. “Can I help you all?”

“Y/n, I know you’re still kinda upset at me for what happened but Seonghwa?? I knew I saw that bike from somewhere”, San sulked.

“That’s what you get for being dick, San”, Wooyoung scoffed, earning a shove from the other male. “I still really liked being around you.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “Y/n, I know you weren’t looking for anything serious but what are the odds of it being all four of us?”

You had your hand on your hip, and you shrugged, “Maybe it’s fate.”

Hongjoong spoke up, “we called you here because we wanted you know your plans moving forward.”

“What plans? I thought it was like a fun thing yknow?” You played dumb.

“We…want you to choose”, San asserted.

You stayed silent for a moment, the four boys were nervously awaiting for your answer, even if they didn’t show it.

“I mean I would but that’s only if I lose the game,” you responded.

Wooyoung looked the most confused out of the bunch and he’s the first one who spoke up, “what game?”

“First who falls in love is a loser”, you smiled, already celebrating your victory as you leave the boys staring after you, realising they’d lost, terribly.

[worlds-4th-best-dad]

What do you think about Uryuu Minene ?

Well, before I met Minene, I thought she'd be difficult. Most likely the most difficult criminal we'd have to face.

With worldwide infamy and a penchant for evading police capture in various countries, a lot of my men down at the station thought she was the toughest son of a gun we'd meet. I don't blame them too. Even I got doubts if we'd be able to properly protect the cardinal.

Thankfully, we intercepted assassination attempt from being successful and neither the Father nor any other civilians were harmed. But...

It came at the cost of one of our own... Even now, Natsuko's loss is felt by many of us in the department. It wasn't easy dealing with the loss, especially since her absence left a deep void in our workplace. She easily lit up any room she entered and made friends as effortlessly as she smiled. I'll never forget that smile... It was the same smile that greeted me when she was first deployed here at Sakurami and the one she wore proudly alongside her badge. May her loved ones find solace in her passing and may she rest in peace...

Back to the topic, after dealing with the aftermath of Minene's failed attempt, we thought we wouldn't see her rear her ugly head for a long while. We upped security just in case and even set up police checkpoints near the roads towards the Cult of Justice. We thought she'd skipped town and hightail it out of the country, but, turns out, we were wrong.

After setting up this blog, I began to receive anonymous hate messages. At first, I thought they were from internet trolls trying to get a rise out of me, but, upon further investigation, and some hunches, we figured out it was Minene who was sending them. And, by God, they were an eye-opener.

Who would've thought that the infamous Minene Uryuu, the most feared anti-religious terrorist the world had seen, would end up being the most immature person I'd ever met when she lost. I swear, even Yoi didn't pitch a fit like her.

Anyway, after that, I started to track down her movements to see if she made a blog and, surprisingly- or unsurprisingly at this point -she messaged me in private which allowed me to finally find her blog.

All-in-all, my thoughts of Minene range from rage for the murder of Natsuko, to desolation from the loss, and to comedy at the weird twist of fate of recent events. This will definitely be the most interesting case file in the archive room, that's for sure.

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 24)

Previous chapter - Read on AO3

OHDH Masterlist - Narcos Masterlist 

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x Javier Peña

Words: 3,440

Summary: It's been 15 years since Horacio and Javier brought down Gacha in Tolú, and now they're back where their story began.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Brief allusions to period-typical prejudices/politics/legislation, very brief sexual references, smoking, swearing, all the fluff.

Notes: Well....I feel like I should post this with a fanfare or something (just imagine there's one playing), but oh boy, oh man, oh god. I did it. I flipping did it 😭 It's only taken 36 months, copious amounts of blood, sweat and tears, a deranged amount of research, the last shred of my sanity, and probably a fair amount of back/neck pain from sitting at my laptop for too long to get here. But hey, if I don't write a self-indulgent novel-length fix-it fic for a criminally underrated rarepair from a defunct TV show, WHO WILL, I ASK THEE? 😂

I can't fully explain the journey this fic has taken me and my writing on, or the deep love I have in my heart for this ship and the OHDH universe that has lived constantly in my head these last few years. Even when I'm not actively writing, so many things remind me of these two everywhere I go. They got me through the darkest days of the pandemic and somehow became my comfort ship, despite er, certain canon events we don't talk about in this house.

Anyway, I think you've all heard quite enough from me for the time being. So, I will just say thank you so, so, so much to anyone who has read, commented, kudosed, reblogged, liked, sent me messages, made me things, suggested music recs, generally been incredibly supportive and kind ❤️

And thank you to anyone who may stumble across this fic in future. Please never be afraid to leave a comment, even if you're reading several years down the line, I will always love to hear from people about this story.

There will also be some moodboards and playlists posted on my Tumblr at some point (and *maybe* some new - much shorter lol - fics eventually) once I've caught my breath back a bit.

For the final time (unless I randomly think of anything I've forgotten, which is more than likely lol), I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 24: Suerte (Epilogue)

Early evening rays painted the pastel horizon, their last act of the day transforming the shimmering ocean into an inky palate of fuchsia, violet and saffron, the golden sands at the shore still warm to the touch hours past dusk.

Come the weekend, Colombians would travel far and wide to descend on the many beaches, bars and restaurants that dotted the waterfront. Or if they were feeling adventurous, they would birdwatch, dive off the Islas de San Bernardo, or canoe amongst the mangroves.

But it was mid-week and mid-December – when most locals were at work and school or preparing for Christmas. So, for now, Horacio and Javier had the place to themselves.

There was the added bonus of the coastline turning into a dense forest of palm trees just along from their beach house, civilisation a mile or so away on either side of them, so even at peak times, they remained secluded. It had become a daily ritual to luxuriate in the peace and quiet; a pre-dinner swim with no trunks required followed by entwined limbs and sand in their hair as the sun went down.

Today was no exception, the gentle lapping of the waves around them and their shallow breaths the only sounds to be heard, the taste of salt and scent of sun lotion heavy in the air and on their skin as Horacio rocked into Javier, slow and deep, their chests and foreheads drawn together.

It was almost dark when Javier switched on the shower taps, cascading soothing jets over his head, neck and shoulders. As he soaked his hair, the lights from inside the beach house sprung to life, illuminating the outdoor bathroom with an ambient glow. It was a feature of the premium accommodation they had splashed out on, a rare treat away for a special occasion.

The outside space was a mix of wood, tiles and natural stone for the walls and floors, encased by tall plants and trees for extra privacy. A double shower stood on a platform at the end of a walkway, with a large hot tub branching off in the other direction. On their first night here, they had opted for the tub, surrounding it with candles as a belated ode to Día de las Velitas, lost in each other beneath the bubbles and the stars.

A sturdy embrace enveloped Javier from behind, a position they had found themselves in every morning by the shore before breakfast, looking out to a tranquil sea and a kaleidoscopic sky. The day jobs kept them both on their feet and in good shape, although there was more softness around their stomachs, and Javier was stockier than in his younger years. But his upper body was even broader with muscle now.

He was no gym fiend, but he had accompanied Horacio in some of his strengthening training, wanting to keep his stamina up as much as possible. Not just for the obvious but because he was sometimes required to carry the heavier supplies at work and didn’t want to be shown up in front of his largely youthful team.

It was a welcome development to Horacio, whatever the reason. Not that he ever had any complaints before, but watching Javier blossom as he aged was a wonder to behold. Not to mention, there was more of him to enjoy now.

As for Horacio, aside from the sloping curve of his midriff, he was sheer jaguar strength. Not only in the noticeable places, but his core muscles were in peak condition, the daily horse riding improving his posture and taking him back to the drill commands of his cadet years. His skin was more weathered, and his days of being meticulously cleanly shaven at all times were long gone. But Javier assured him – a lot – the ruggedness was part of the appeal.

Javier wasn’t one to talk either, stubble being a more regular feature alongside his moustache nowadays. But that was mainly due to lack of time in his busy schedule rather than preference, so it wasn’t unheard of for Horacio to do the honours for him. For some reason, Horacio delicately scraping a razor blade across his jaw from the comfort of his lap was far more appealing to Javier than doing it himself in front of the bathroom mirror.

Their hair contained more grey patches, especially around the temples, which was easier to hide when they grew it longer. That wasn’t practical during the sweltering heat of a Texan summer, so they kept it shorter in the hotter months. But in the winter, they could run their fingers through choppy waves and coils of curls to their hearts’ content. And luckily for them, their anniversary fell in December.

“Can you believe it’s been 15 years to the day?” Horacio asked, scattering kisses across Javier’s back.

“This doesn’t even feel like the same fucking place, to be honest.”

“Tell me about it.”

Horacio let out a huff as flashbacks of leading his men on a fleet of raiding crafts towards Gacha’s hideout collided with memories from merely days ago of him and Javier island hopping in a hire boat along the same waters. They had taken a platter of fresh seafood and fruit, exploring the remotest beaches and lagoons, where their only company was the local wildlife.

He could still remember the sensation of the blood at his temple as he lay disorientated on the sand in the aftermath of the explosion, a stark contrast to dozing together under the shade of a palm tree or reading aloud to each other the words of Lorca, Gaitán Durán, Arbeláez, Neruda, Paz, Castellanos and Mistral.

“Although, I did notice signs for the barracks towards Coveñas when we were driving here,” Horacio added with a nostalgic smirk.

“Oh yeah? You didn’t want another night there for old times’ sake?” Javier tilted his head until he found Horacio’s lips with his teeth.

Horacio hummed and put up no resistance, his wet hands sailing with ease down Javier’s body, finding purchase at his hip bones. “It was tempting. But I figured you’d want to make the most of this before Christmas.”

“Damn right.”

They took turns massaging shampoo into each other’s scalps, lathering the suds through thick spirals, tenderly pulling at strands until they purred, thoroughly indulging in the sensation whilst they had the chance. And then they did it all again, rinsing off the soap, floating away on the meditative pressure of the faucet and their fingers.

“We could always see if Alejandra has more spa freebies if it gets too much, though,” Javier suggested through the haze of steam now cocooning them.

“I like your thinking.”

It had been a while since they last used such tickets, their previous visits not dissimilar to how their current vacation was playing out. But despite the chaos that would no doubt ensue, they were looking forward to catching up with Horacio’s side of the family. Between expanding businesses in Texas and Manizales and the oldest half of the brood living and working elsewhere now with the twins staying at home studying, they didn’t get to meet up as much as they would have liked.

However, Elena visited Laredo several times, swapping life stories and recipes with Chucho and joining Horacio and Javier in San Antonio one spring for the Fiesta. Her last holiday outside of Colombia had been before Alejandra and Horacio were born, so she was determined to take advantage of having family abroad before age finally caught up with her. There had even been discussions of a trip to Madrid if Horacio and Javier could arrange cover at work the following year.

“Pops is flying out on the 20th, right?”

“Yes. Marco and Raúl are covering the ranch and animals until your father’s back on the 28th. And Jorge is covering the farm until we’re home from Miami in the New Year.”

No one was keen to leave Luna, Sol and Leo, who had long since retired from ranch duties, but between work and Christmas commitments, Connie taking a full-time job in a different hospital, now Olivia was a teenager going on 30, and the earlier-than-expected arrival of Felipe’s and Juana’s second child – Óscar, a little brother to Claudia – New Year was the only time everyone’s schedules matched up.

These days, Luna, whose main residence was the cottage now, Sol and Leo spent most of their time nestled on furniture or looking for treats in the kitchen whenever food was prepared. However, Luna would sometimes still ride in the back of Horacio’s truck and keep him company in the lower fields.

Kira and Fuego had become old pros, showing their younger siblings, Cielo and Tierra, the ropes, not as replacements to the trio but as a new team with their own quirks and personalities. Thankfully, the dogs and Coco had taken well to the pair of barn cats, Churro and Tamale, who patrolled the outbuildings and dealt with any rodent intruders.

Meanwhile, Chucho showed few signs of slowing down, except one summer when he twisted an ankle, and even that was hard work to get him to rest. But he had been happy to step back from some of his more physically demanding responsibilities in recent years, trusting that the ranch and farm were in capable hands. With their expansion plans a resounding success – plus some new ones up their sleeves – he had become more involved in the business side of the operation alongside Miguel.

And, of course, he was always happy to offer Horacio advice whenever needed. But for the most part, he left him to it since Félix’s retirement, preferring to arrange for the guesthouses to be refurbished or to deliver fresh batches of cooking to aid workers and exhausted arrivals alike on the frontline of the border.

“Bet Jorge was as thrilled about that arrangement as my team.”

“Well, we can always delegate to our deputies whenever necessary. One of the perks of being promoted.”

It had taken Horacio five years under Félix’s watchful eye – and decades of experience – to be granted the title of farm manager. Then, Félix had retired the previous year, satisfied he had picked the right man as his successor and Jorge as deputy.

Horacio still had plenty to learn and likely always would with the constant conveyor belt of change to farming methods and technology that landed on his desk each month. However, there was a sense of familiarity with certain parts of the job, like the meetings, the paperwork, and the budget constraints. Except, this time, it all came without the funerals, the upper echelons of the CNP breathing down his neck, and the crushing weight of a country’s future on his shoulders.

“And a holiday on the Caribbean coast was necessary, was it?” Now that Javier’s hair was free from sand and shampoo, he turned to face Horacio, their lips almost touching.

Horacio nodded sagely and closed the gap. “A critical business need.”

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

Once dried off, they lay in a hammock in matching white towel robes under the thatched porch of their beach house with a perfect view of the sea, moon and stars.

“So, you like it here?” Horacio asked after a comfortable silence.

“It’s beautiful. I’m glad we came back – to see it how it’s meant to be.”

“Me too. Although, I fear violence will always be a parasite latched onto Colombia. Just when you think it’s gone from one place, it rears its head again in another. Or even the same place twice if you’re unlucky.”

Horacio remembered the stories he had heard from Trujillo in the last couple of years – particularly about Operation Orion. Officially, the incursion on Comuna 13 had been a success by the Colombian military against the likes of FARC. Unofficially, however, there were rumours of a leaked CIA report, disappeared individuals, and collusion between an Army General and none other than Don Berna’s subordinate. It was hard to keep faith that Medellín would ever be free from its past when history had such a predictable habit of repeating itself.

“I know. It feels like one step forward and two steps back in the States, too. Terrorism might be the new bogeyman, but re-branding to ICE and throwing a shitload of money at the DHS hasn’t stopped the drugs and the people finding their way over the border.”

Javier had heard directly from Steve about the shift in his job role since 9/11. Overnight, Steve’s whole department was removed from their current caseloads and signed up for every counter-terrorism and narco-terrorism course under the sun. It was now customary for DEA agents to be redeployed to the FBI as intelligence analysts if resources required. And if their eyes and ears were pulled away from the drug traffickers, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the consequences.

Meanwhile, in Texas, if anything, people only took graver risks in the wake of a beefed-up Border Patrol. Javier had spent a lot of the past year helping to set up new aid teams in Arizona and New Mexico, the inhospitable conditions of the desert not enough of a deterrent to stop families trying their luck or handing over their life savings to coyotes who didn’t care whether they made it across alive.

“But small things can add up to change. Bit by bit,” Javier added. “And at least they can’t arrest us for fucking in our own home anymore.”

“True. Not that the law stopped us before...” Horacio nuzzled against Javier’s neck before making a move to get up.

They may have joked in the here and now, but it wasn’t a change they took for granted. In fact, Luz and Carla had even persuaded Javier to attend a protest or two and pay bond and legal fees for those who had been arrested. After all, he’d had plenty of experience exchanging money for people’s freedom.

When news of the Supreme Court decision spread, it was another weight off their backs and one less reason to look over their shoulders, a chance to permanently put to bed memories of being spied on during such unguarded sacred moments. It was the final line to be drawn under those dark years, not to erase them because that was impossible. But it was, at least, closure.

Their cigarette was almost done, and Horacio had left the opened pack on the kitchen counter. Once retrieved, he took out another and leaned into Javier across the hammock, pressing the tip of his unlit cigarette against the lit one until it sparked.

“But you’re right,” Horacio continued, holding Javier’s gaze between exhaling a plume of smoke. He balanced on the edge of the hammock, just enough to stop it tipping sideways. “Things can change. But only if we want them to.” He perched their new cigarette between his lips as he reached into the pocket of his robe.

Their first cigarette was little more than a stub, so Javier stooped down to the ashtray on the floor to extinguish it. Once he sat up again, a small cubed box was presented into his spare hand.

Javier stared at the black box and blew out remnants of smoke, eyeing Horacio with an unreadable expression, an unspoken question and answer lingering between them and the mist of tobacco.

He prised open the box to reveal a ring of plain silver. Or, so he thought at first glance. But as he raised it towards the moon, the iridescent light caught on the inner band to reveal an inscription.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja.

(Lucky that I found my soulmate.)

“Fuck, Horacio…” Javier’s voice was strained, and his words came out as little more than a whisper. He held the ring between his thumb and forefinger, letting the ethereal reflection from above capture each word.

Horacio watched every shift in Javier’s face with bated breath and a dry throat, his limbs lead and weightless all at once.

“The world’s changing around us,” Horacio said at last; swallowing his nerves and summoning his courage. “But no matter what the law or courts say in any state or country, this can mean whatever we want it to mean.”

Javier’s jaw worked back and forth, his teeth clamping down on the inside of his cheeks. But it was no use, and he let out a trembling scoff, an attempt to distract from the shining pupils he finally confronted Horacio with.

And then a broad smile crept across Javier’s features, his palm connecting with Horacio’s cheek before he plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag. “Pass me my jeans.”

It took Horacio a moment to process Javier’s request. Of all the responses he had prepared for – the good and the bad – that hadn’t been on his list, funnily enough. With narrowed eyes and pursed lips, he complied and fetched the jeans that had been flung over a sun lounger when they stripped off to swim earlier. Apparently, regardless of how humid the climate in Tolú became, denim remained a reliable staple of Javier’s wardrobe.

“Check my left pocket.”

Whatever Javier was up to, Horacio was torn between intrigue and irritation at Javier’s temerity to issue orders despite leaving him hanging. But he did as he was told, and in an instant, everything made sense.

“I can always take it back if you’d prefer…”

But Horacio was already opening the near-identical box, and any teasing faded to white noise as he came face-to-face with the gold equivalent of his own proposal.

“Hold it up to the light.”

The night sky was brighter now, making it easier for the inscription to be revealed.

Mi amor, mi vida, mi hogar, mi vaquero. Siempre tuyo.

(My love, my life, my home, my cowboy. Yours always.)

It was Javier’s turn to observe, and it didn’t take long for Horacio to raise a brow in his direction, shooting him a look of feigned exasperation that only came with the territory of a relationship as enduring as theirs.

“What?” Javier said with disingenuous innocence and a vulpine smile.

It was a contagious kind of smile, one that reminded Horacio they were equals in this and that he shouldn’t have been surprised Javier had the same idea.

“I take it my mother showed you her ring?”

“On my first visit to Manizales. It was beautiful. And so’s this.”

“As is this.”

“I like to think I put my own spin on it.”

“You did.”

They sat side-by-side on the hammock, legs facing towards each other with the rings held in their outstretched hands.

Javier’s thumb slid across Horacio’s left palm, tracing patterns over new callouses born from hard labour rather than war. He circled his wrist, waiting for the familiar rhythm but finding a beat that was, unsurprisingly, drumming quicker than usual.

After subduing with his touch, Javier retrieved the gold band, gliding it carefully onto Horacio’s ring finger, easing it over the knuckle until it rested snugly at the base.

They sat transfixed, marvelling at the light dancing across it as Horacio’s thumb ran back and forth over the curved surface in fascination.

Horacio repeated the ritual of mapping Javier’s left hand, lacing their fingers together as a tangible reminder of their bond. Their devotion. Their vow. Their choice. Whether the law honoured it one day or not.

He picked up the silver to his gold, shimmying it along Javier’s ring finger and passing beyond the slight resistance at his knuckle. Not too much force, but firm enough for it to sink perfectly into place.

With palms connected and fingers interlocked, their foreheads met, chests rising and falling in tandem.

“Te amo tanto, Javier.”

“Yo también te amo. Tanto, Horacio. Tanto.” Javier whispered, over and over in Horacio’s ear like a prayer – their prayer – before brushing his lips above Horacio’s brow, the bridge of his nose, both cheeks and down to his mouth, creating their own sign of the cross with each kiss. A new beginning and a welcome home.

They untied their robes and collapsed onto the hammock in a tangle of limbs, silver and gold melding at their chests and hands; their past, present and future as inseparable as their hearts, bodies and souls.

With one smooth motion, Horacio pinned Javier’s arms down into the netting of the hammock, a dark, hungry gaze passing between them as cool metal fused with hot skin.

15 years and several lifetimes may have gone by. But when Horacio had the man he loved, the man who loved him, his media naranja, underneath him, only one word ran through his head. Mine.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

[anamoon63]

RL and Sims update post + a thank you note

(Warning: long post ahead, read at your own risk).

I wrote this post to thank you guys for all the likes and comments you keep leaving on my posts, even though, as you may have noticed, I can't be here as often as I used to. Real life has taken over almost completely, as I think it should. There are too many things going on, with me, my family, my country, even my sims and other games, lol.

I'm not going to bore you with daily life problems, much less with sad and depressive stuff, or with previews of a story I don't know when/if I'll ever finish, the only thing I can tell you is that I'm still busy with a lot of work, (fortunately) and family stuff; plus, I (finally) started going to therapy (yes, at my age). So right now, I'm juggling even more things than I already was.

And so I wanted to thank you for sticking with me, for continuing to read the chaotic stories of my wacky characters without judging them; thank you as well for each and every message you have sent to my inbox, be it questions, or flowers and love; and to all of you who continue to tag me both on sims stuff and cute games, knowing that I most likely won't be able to answer you, really, thank you for continuing to think of me. Your messages soothe my heart in difficult moments, and I wish to answer them all, I just don't know when I will be able to do that, hopefully someday.

Now, my sims story. For those of you who might remotely still be interested, I'm currently revising the next few episodes of Time Traveler which I wrote earlier this year. To be honest, I don't know when they will be ready, I just know the story goes on and as soon as I have reviewed these episodes, I'll start taking the pictures. When will they be published? Frankly, I don't know. It could be early 2025, but no promises, as I don't have much free time on my hands now. I manage to write in the evenings, but in-game photo shoots are quite time consuming and have to be done in peace and privacy, of which I don't have much at the moment. So, if I do decide to publish these episodes, it will likely be early next year, and at a rather slow pace.

About my gameplay, in Sims 4 we will continue with the Wilsons until the end of the season (coming soon), and then we will take a small break. As for The Sims 3, we just finished Patrick's story in Bridgeport, so now we'll go back with The Cho Brothers. First, we'll take a brief trip to Lucky Palms with Terence and Cynthia Cho; then we'll spend a rather long time in Hidden Springs and Starlight Shores, to see what has happened with Tyron, the eldest of the Cho brothers. And last but not least, we'll go back to Uni with Dale and Kelly, who I hope will FINALLY graduate this year, hahaha.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I am not gone (yet), that if one day I decide to retire I will make a special post about it, I won't leave without saying goodbye, but that day seems far away at least for the moment. 

Now, regarding Inzoi…

I admit Inzoi has captured my interest. As usual, I'm late to the comment party, but I still want to put my two cents about this amazing game. Seeing the trailers and all those beautiful Inzois created by other simmers got me so excited, and at the same time, terribly frustrated to see that the demo didn't contain any gameplay. I need to actually play the game to give an opinion on it! So far it looks beautiful, though I must say that the character creator disappointed me because the sliders are Sims 4 style, which I've always found a bit complicated, I'll forever prefer the Sims 3 sliders, but hey, I had a lot of fun creating my own Inzois.

Hopefully the graphics and gameplay are as good as seen in the previews and its developers won't “break” it into multiple or turn the into a malfunctioning cash cow like EA did with The Sims 4, and to a certain extent, also with the Sims 3 in its time. I hope with Inzoi they'll go for a complete game, no matter if it's expensive, if I consider it is worth it, I'll give them my money as soon as it comes out.

That being said, it is important for me to clarify that I will not abandon The Sims 3 (or even Sims 4 though I don't play it much) for Inzoi. Ever. Neither do I plan to recreate my sims OCs/games in it, because my sims are exactly that, sims. If I ever get to play Inzoi it will be with entirely new characters, although I confess, I did try to reproduce two of my most beloved sims (a boy from the future and a college girl who is a model *wink*) and they turned out pretty well, but nowhere near as adorable as they look in The Sims 3. Plus, the environments in which those two OCs currently move could not be reproduced in Inzoi, at least as far as I know.

Okay, enough of Inzoi. In short: I'm not gone, I'm still here, I'm still reading all your stories, only at a much slower pace, two or 3 simblrs per day at the most. I'm going to read them all, just bear with me, and forgive me again if I don't always comment. Sometimes I don't even have the time or the energy for that. Believe me, 2024 has been an intense year in every possible way, sometimes I really need a break, but I try to be around and will always find a way to keep in touch, even if at times it seems like I'm nowhere to be found, I'll get back to you at some point.

That's all, thanks for reading this far! Have a nice and beautiful start of the week. 💗

P.S. I wrote this post three days ago, wish I had published it earlier, that way I probably wouldn't have gotten a notification that some Simblrs Community 'removed my membership'. When I clicked in said Simblrs Community icon, it said the community was 'private'. I don't know if that's some kind of automatic Tumblr thing, if there's a committee that decides about this, or if it was just a glitch in the matrix; whatever it was, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be here to keep said membership. I didn't even know Simblr was a private membership. For what it's worth, it wasn't neglect or lack of interest for my part, just lack of time. I hope one day to be able to qualify again and be worthy of this membership. At any rate, I thank you for thinking of me and admitting me in your community in the first place.

[mimicsapprentice]

Vice's Lore / backstory ~!! (Copy pasted from discord messages so please excuse the cadence + formatting)(+ lack of proofreading)

Not entirely familiar with uh canon Shattered!Dream so this is my version of him / a 'corrupted' Dream. He's kinda of mmmm morally grey I would think? Like he's very much not evil but nor is he entirely good anymore. He tried that and it failed, almost got him and his brother killed. Rose tinted glasses shattered alongside him. 

While he is the guardian of positivity he isn't all sunshine & roses; he's sort of nothing like anyone would expect if they heard his title. It uh, it's kind of widely disliked? Across his MV? His brother is vary much the favourite child of the verse, even if he is the guardian of negativity. The 2 of them also do actually get along!! NM is a little guilty about the whole situation that lead to Dream's corruption but they talked the whole thing out and are chilling!

All of this matters bc Dream has enemies. Some who REALLY hate and oppose him.... the same kind of dynamics between the Stars & NM's Gang but worse (and also unaffiliated w/ NM, even if they may be trying to do these things in his name)(Story for another time tho hehe). And um. Well. They did some real fucked up shit </2

Okay okay. So! Dream & his Fell/Red only have the 1 kid, Wish Vice. They never quite felt like it would be safe to have more? Since Dream was a target and by extension anyone he loves, other than NM, was as well. Fell'd had to deal with it enough times on his own but things were finally looking up! They (thought) they'd managed to capture enough of the group that they could finally live their lives in peace! So along came Vice ~!!

Thing is, it was all great for a while! They were a happy loving family. Vice was growing up just fine, aware that there was the possibility for danger but it was always just... something for the back of his mind. Not something that he would ever actually have to deal with. A warning was all. His parents were more on alert of course but they hoped beyond anything Vice would never see what they were so afraid of.... Of course that didn't work out for them hehe :)

Not sure exactly when but he probably would have been around uhhh 10-11 maybe? He was staying with Fell in his verse, at their house on the surface (post pacifist timeline!). Dream wasn't there because he had duties to attend to, it was nothing out of the ordinary. There were days like this all the time, since he was still an active guardian.

It was also an opportunity though! For Them to get what they'd always wanted. To hurt Dream, to take away everyone he loved and 'prove' how evil he actually was.... So they uh blew the whole thing up :) The house not the timeline/AU. Fell? Very much dead. It was the middle of the night and he was sound asleep, nothing he could have done about it. Never saw it coming.... at least he died in peace.

At first Dream thought Vice had also died. Since he was supposed to have been home with his father, he thought They finally did get what They had always wanted....  Despite thinking it was hopeless he kept calling and calling and calling Vice but he got no answer. Of course not he was dead not dead but actually just trying to avoid getting in trouble.

See. He's actually snuck out that night, once Fell was in bed, to hang out with his friends! There was a small like slumber party thing going on which Fell had said he wasn't allowed to go to. He didn't like that answer so decided to sneak out and go anyways. This choice? Right here? Is the only reason he is still alive today. He saw Dream calling but ignored him because he thought he'd be caught & just didn't want to have to face his punishment for as long as possible. It wasn't until his friend's parent saw the news & was like 'isn't that your house Vice?' that he answered. Surprising and of course also delighting Dream. He may have lost the love of his life but at least he didn't loose his son too....

This all leads into the full 'how come' he ended up in another MV though. This was too close a call for Dream to handle. His son almost died, his son. The light of their his life!? He. He couldn't risk Them trying again. Them succeeding. He didn't know what he would do if They did. It would probably destroy him...

Sooooo! He begged Ink, someone he was friends(?) with, to let him use his mirror. Where he'd heard about it wasn't important but he needed to know if it was real? if it worked? He needed it. It was the only way to keep Vice safe.... Well. Not just if he could use it but also if Ink would ask alt versions of himself (Inks) if they would get in contact with alt versions of Dream so he could talk to them. He figured the best and safest place to keep Vice would be in the care of another version of himself. He felt like he could trust himself to love and to raise Vice right.... right? 

He wasn't the only one shocked at the meetings. Seeing as most Dreams aren't the shattered/corrupted ones in their MV... It was like looking into a very strange possibility of what could have been; for all parties involved!

He talked to quite a few Dreams before he met the one who ended up taking him in. None of them had been right. Some of them he didn't trust, some didn't trust him. It wasn't until he met 'SK!Dream' (ShipkidsVerse Dream) that he was actually able to feel confident in this plan. They were both so different but also so the same, ya know? It was mostly the fact that SK!Dream had children of his own that really sealed it; sure it helped that there were also with Fell but that was never (really) a factor. He just wanted someone he could trust to love Vice no matter what...

Was Vice happy with this plan? Not at all!!!! He just lost 1 of his parents now he has to loose the other one? Is Dream kidding him? WTF. It wasn't just that it felt beyond unfair, it was the fact he felt like he was being rejected. Like his own dad could not stand to look at him, like he was too much of a reminder of what he'd lost. Maybe even that he'd never actually loved him... just had him to play happy family with Fell...

His departure was a rough one to say the least. As was his period of settling into his new MV. His new family. He's been there for multiple years though at this point and while he's not yet quite forgiven his dad for what he did, he is coming to terms with it. At least he is safe here, right?

( Also please note that no matter the verse, I am team 'The Corrupted Twin is still the same person they used to be. They aren't fucking dead & gone, replaced by someone else??? Let them fuck up their owns lives, thank you ~!!' )(/lh)

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

Unbeknownst

Summary: He told her she knew

Word count: 782

Can also be read here on Ao3

“So… you and Luke?” Penelope asked cautiously. “Is that a thing?”

She and Teresa had become something akin to friends, and often got coffee together. Penelope had been pestering Luke on this subject, but he was very insistent they were just friends. She didn’t buy it, however. The way Teresa had howled at him? That had to mean something. She told herself the weird, icky feeling she had about it was only because of the potential stickiness this could add to an already sticky situation. It wasn't jealousy. 

Teresa scoffed in response. “Me and Luke? Absolutely not. We are just friends. Sure, army guys are my type, but A: he’s too old for me, and B: I’d never start something with someone who’s obviously in love with their friend and admits it.”

To say Penelope’s jaw dropped would be an understatement. “Luke’s in love with someone? Who? Tara?”

Teresa’s brows scrunched together. “Who’s Tara? No. You, duh.”

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat, then started to hammer. “What do you mean me, duh? Nothing about that is duh!”

“But… he said you knew.”

“What?”

“I called him out for having feelings for you but not doing anything about it, and he said, and I quote, no, she knows I love her. He even put an emphasis on the knows. He said, she knows I love her.”

Penelope felt like a fish out of water. She was gasping, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t even begin to process what she was hearing. “He… he has never said those words to me. In any capacity. I mean, he hasn’t even said it platonically! I knew, of course, it went without saying. But that’s not what you guys were talking about. Right?”

Teresa shook her head. “No. He loves you loves you. “

Penelope winced, thinking about how her horrid behavior lately must have hurt him. “He didn’t happen to mention how long, did he?”

Teresa bit the inside of her cheek and tilted her head back, thinking. “I mean, he mentioned an awkward date? So I guess around then? When was that?”

“Three years ago,” Penelope admitted, feeling awful.

“Ha! The fucking liar.”

Penelope tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Teresa shook her head, laughing. “He told me that date was a ‘hard pass’ for both of you. Lies. You don’t stay in love with a hard pass for three years. I think he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince me.”

“I can’t believe this. Luke… loves me. And he thought I knew. Oh god he thought I knew and then did all the things I did anyway… how does he not hate me?”

Teresa looked very concerned. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

***

Penelope was pacing, fidgeting with and flapping her hands as she waited for Luke to arrive. She had taken two days after Teresa’s revelation to process what she had learned. To decide how she felt. Once she knew what she needed to say to him, she messaged Luke and asked him to come over because she had something she wanted to talk to him about. He told her he’d be right over. Of course he would. He loves you. 

Her doorbell rang, and when she checked the camera, there he was with that glowing smile. He loves you. 

She let him in, and he clocked her tense mood immediately. He loves you. 

“Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” 

He loves you. “You love me?”

He looked somewhat confused. “Didn’t you know that?”

“I do now!” He loves you. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you. “Now that Teresa told me! Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you tell her? Why did you tell her I knew?”

“I thought you did! I thought it was obvious.”

He. Loves. You. She was getting hysterical. “It wasn’t to me!”

Luke almost deflated. “Oh. I’m sorry. I tried to make it obvious.”

He loves you. And he really did. She could tell. He wasn’t trying to deny it, or hide it, he wasn’t upset that she knew. He admitted it openly. He was at peace with it. She swore he looked happy about it. He loves you. 

“Why me?” He loves you. 

“Why not you?” He loves you. 

The tears she had been holding back finally broke free, but instead of crumpling, she went to him. Threw her arms around him. He loves you. 

He held her back. He loves you. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. He loves you. “I know I’ve hurt you, I never meant to, I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you.” He loves you.

She kissed him. He loves you.

You love him too.

[sandersontheside]

Drabble list #4

25. “Worst day ever!”

Any characters of your choosing :3

Beanie!! Thank you for the prompt! Please enjoy high school AU creativitwins being silly boys with just a sprinkling of implied prinxiety bc I can't help myself. Under a cut because it broke 1k words by accident. (prompt lists: 4,5,7)

Roman flung himself onto his bed with a huge sigh, his messenger bag still on one shoulder. 

Remus looked up from his own bed, where he was already clicking away on his laptop. He pulled off his big headphones and let them hang around his neck. “What’s up your ass?” 

Roman responded with a muffled groan. 

“Anything to do with why you’re home so late?” Remus asked. “Rehearsals ended like an hour and a half ago. Where the hell have you been?” Roman was always home later than Remus because of his commitments to the school musicals, unless Remus decided to join tech that particular semester, which he hadn't this time around because apparently Legally Blonde was too boring.

Roman pulled himself onto his knees so he could take off his bag, letting it fall to the floor. “I have had the worst day ever.” 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Okay, drama queen. Did you embarrass yourself in front of that emo kid again?” 

Roman flushed. “His name’s Virgil.”

“That’s not a no,” Remus smirked. 

‘Ugh, shut up,” Roman flopped onto his back. “That’s only one of the things that went wrong today. It started when we were late to school, which I totally blame you for—”

“Excuse me? Which one of us takes an entire hour in the bathroom to shower and do his hair?” Remus scoffed. “You always make us late.”

“Whatever, Mister ‘We have to go back because I left my homework on the table.’”

“Well, if you had been ready to leave earlier, we would have had time to—” 

“Okay, okay,” Roman groaned, rubbing his temples. “The point is, we were late, and then my math teacher yelled at me for being late, and then at lunch I realized I didn’t have my wallet. Patton gave me half his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I was still starving—”

“Why the hell didn’t you come find me? I could have bought you something.” It’s a rare moment of sincerity from Remus. 

“I didn’t think of that.” Roman admitted. 

“Clearly.”

“Anyways!” Roman huffed. “After that, I had English, and we’re doing Shakespeare, as you know, and we got to pick scenes to do with a partner, from any play we liked. And I wanted to pick Much Ado About Nothing because you know I was born to play Benedick. But then she assigned Virgil to be my partner.”

“Did he not want to do Much Ado?” Remus asked. 

“Worse! He wanted to play Beatrice!” Roman threw his hands in the air theatrically. “Can you imagine? Reciting Shakespearean romance lines to my crush?”

Remus blinked, confused. “That sounds like something you’d love, you nerd.” 

“If he liked me back, maybe! But he doesn’t! So it was just painful, and I got so flustered that I stumbled over some of the lines!” 

Remus winced. 

“And, then, finally, I had rehearsals for the play. But I tripped during one of the dance routines and knocked over one of the sets and broke it.” Roman lifted his hands, which were covered in paint. “I had to stay late to rebuild it."  

Remus let out a long breath. “That does sound like the worst day ever."

“Thank you!” Roman curled around a pillow. “Now, go back to looking at God knows what online and just let me sulk in peace.” 

His brother didn’t respond at first. He glanced at his screen, tapped out something short (a message to a friend, perhaps?), closed it up, and removed his headphones from around his neck. “Nope,” he said finally. 

“What?” 

“Nope. I’m not gonna let you sulk.” Remus stood up from his bed, extending a hand to Roman. “You have two options. Movie night or me kicking your ass at Mario Kart.” 

Roman looked up at his twin pathetically. “Can movie night be Disney movies?” 

“You’re going to make me watch Tangled again, aren’t you?” His words were exasperated, but he was smiling reassuringly.

“I mean, it is the best new Disney movie.” Against all odds, Roman felt his miserable mood start to let up. “But I’m kind of in the mood for Treasure Planet. Or The Emperor’s New Groove,”  he said, knowing full well that while Remus vastly preferred Pixar to Disney, that he had a soft spot for “the weird years” of Disney in the early-to-mid 2000s, just as 2D animation was fading out. If Remus was going to do this for him, the least he could do was pick movies Remus actually enjoyed as well. 

Remus’s smile grew. “Hell yeah, let’s watch Emperor’s New Groove."

Roman smiled back. “Sounds perfect.” He took Remus’s hand and stood, letting his brother drag him out to their living room. Their parents wouldn’t be home for hours—they never were. So, they basically had free reign of the house. Remus cued up the movie, while Roman continued into the kitchen to hunt for some snacks. He returned with slightly burnt microwave popcorn that he didn't even bother to put in a bowl, goldfish crackers, a plate of reheated lasagna because he was still starving, a package of Oreos (Double Stuf, of course), insect gummies that were shaped far too realistically for Roman’s taste, a bottle of Coca-Cola for himself, and Mountain Dew for his brother. He placed it all on the coffee table. “Dinner is served.” 

Remus immediately grabbed a gummy. “Delicious.” 

“I don’t know how you eat that,” Roman shook his head, joining his brother on the couch. “It looks way too real and creepy.” 

Remus shrugged. “It’s still candy.” 

Roman rolled his eyes. “Whatever, weirdo.” 

“I’m not weird, you are.” 

“I’m not weird, I’m unique.” 

“Same thing.” 

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Just play the movie.” 

His brother hit play on the remote and settled into the cushions. 

“Hey, Remus?” 

“Ro, you know I hate it when you talk over movies.”

“It’s still the opening credits,” Roman insisted. “And I just wanted to say thank you. This isn’t the worst day ever anymore.” 

“Gross, don’t be sappy.” 

“Too late.” Roman slung an arm around Remus’s shoulder and pulled him into an awkward kind of sitting side-hug. “I love you, Remus.” 

“Ugh,” Remus grunted, but didn’t try to move away. “I love you, too.” 

[aria0fgold]

CaiOwe ship headcanons? enemies to lovers is great.

GASP!!! YEEES! That's so true though, enemies to lovers <3 I'm not really a headcanon enthusiast but there are some stuff I like to think about for em!

Owen becomes a knight in the future. Please, please, please. I want that to happen so bad.

Why do I love Owen as a knight? It's just reeeeaaally nice to see him be the protector he's own child self needed. In a way, it's like healing his inner kid. Like sending the message of, hey look! I'm one of your heroes now!

In that same breath, I want Owen to do some knightly prowess on Cain. Cain has been a knight long enough, it's time for him to know how it feels to be spoiled.

Honestly though, contrary to popular belief and as one whose entire belief system bout caiowe got recalibrated by this One Fan I know of in twitter. Owen does the fixing. Cain is like to Owen: (guy who is worse) I can fix him. Meanwhile, Owen who is surprisingly doing better than Cain??? actually does the fixing. On Cain. And on himself by relation.

I reeeaaaallly love it when Cain Still holds some anger towards Owen. It's not easy to forgive a guy who ripped out the endless web of lies and entire facade Cain created to be able to live as peacefully as he can. In fact, Cain is still 6 feet under the lie of a life he has and boy is he in danger of drowning in it.

Also not really easy to forgive a guy who stole your own eye and replaced it with his. But Cain is willing to look past that anyway.

Never getting over Owen practically pulling Cain outta messes he himself sinks into. It's not really a headcanon but it's still unbelievable either way.

To be honest, most of the insane caiowe moments are Canon (in one way or another) so there isn't much for me to headcanon at this point when they're already Like That.

Anyway, disorganized rambling time cuz I really can't think of much to headcanon so I'm firing all cylinders of whatever idea came to mind whenever I think about them. But honestly, I LOVE it whenever Owen hits Cain in such a lighthearted manner that I wouldn't even be surprised if it ends up being a small habit of Owen at this point. Whenever Owen gets irritated, he either kicks Cain's leg or hits his arm and if Cain is too far away for that: throws a shoe at him.

Owen in general has mixed feelings towards Cain honestly that yeah, these two are gonna end up taking 1000+ years to officially be a couple at this rate. Never mind, Cain's problems, there's Owen's problems piled onto it. Although the same can be said to Cain, they both have mixed feelings towards one another that it's going to take YEARS to unpack it all.

Am I allowed to be slightly unhinged here? Not really headcanon territory but more of AU territory but I love thinking of AUs where Cain is so insane enough he'd rip his own heart out and give it to Owen-- I mean-- WHO SAID THAT!

My domestic headcanons for them though when they finally get together cuz I love cozy domestic life <3 Is that they live in a small cabin in the forest nearby a river. Cain and Owen both being knights with Cain being a Captain instead (like before), Cain... Cain is gonna need to take cooking lessons.

Actually before these two can even get their domestic cozy life, there's the hurdle of: Owen WILL NOT COOK. He will not. He does the eating here, he is Not Cooking at all! So that leaves Cain, problem is that... he isn't a good cook... Cain is an expert at frying things though! Cooking? Not so much... These two won't even be able to get their domestic cozy life cuz of Owen and his princess tendencies despite working as a knight. He's there to be spoiled (and help out if he feels like it from time to time), and Cain actually doesn't mind having someone to spoil but also: "Owen will you please help out a little?" "No."

I can even see Cain taking cooking lessons from Nero if he ever wants a peaceful life living together with Owen cuz Owen will NOT BE HAPPY EATING FRIED MEALS EVERYDAY! Owen needs a full course meal where dessert makes up about 70% of that otherwise he's gonna get Cranky. And Cain would rather deal with a happy Owen (during their cozy life together cuz honestly right now, he feels Alarmed when Owen is in a good mood) than an irritated Owen.

[noisester]

He's been sitting in his office and staring at a portable mirror for an eternity. Posters of the staggering amount of programs he's managed to get involved in cluttered up the walls around him. That was... A lot. Even by rat bastard standards, that was a lot! Shame he can't be fully in peace knowing the snake didn't pop out of existence in the end, but hey. Despite it all, he could confidently say the Fake Noise kerfuffle was reaching its conclusion. Noisette already mentioned she needed to head out to fix her café, so he was positive she wasn't gonna get abducted by the horrors anytime soon GABYYYYYYY WHEN I GET YOU GABY--.

Honestly? It was a good opportunity to process the events and take a breather. NTV was still hanging by a thin thread, but he wasn't too worried about it. Nuh uh. He wouldn't say it aloud, but... The burnout finally caught up to him. He did do the bare minimum of uh. Quietly toiling away at a control panel to broadcast his little update message and have his channel do re-runs. His audience probably wasn't starving for fresh content and must've gotten overstimulated after all of that chaos, anyway. Weird thing to acknowledge given the projects Noise usually creates.

"I'm nothing like that fraud." He reassures himself while still looking back at the mirror, "I don't run my shows out of desperation; I've got a life outside the industry! 'The Noise' is just a TV thing! Yeah--... Just a TV thing."

He tries to stay in a comfortable position by leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, but his forced smug grin states otherwise.

"What more could a guy ask for, woag? I run NTV, I have a lovely girlfriend, I make Peppidiot suffer when I feel like it........... I run NTV."

Another long minute of deafening silence. He took his hat off and leaned further into his chair to shake off that lump in his mind, but instead ended up getting lost in his thoughts again...

Who was Theodore? A man of many traits and qualities who loves his job, plainly. Simple. One-note. Presumably got involved in an unknown incident at work. Woke up to Bossman giving him a helping hand and asking him questions after losing consciousness. Even when months had passed, he could still somewhat feel that ache on his head haunting him... Okay, I got bonked there, but by what..?

"...Would it make that much of a difference? To have my memories back?" What could he gain from this? Awareness? Respect? Acknowledging things he probably didn't need to? Sating the missus with information he couldn't provide back when they were getting to know each other? There's noticeably a large mallet standing in the corner of the room. You know, that iconic gag in movies that would either magically bear fruit or further reset your brain after getting bashed with it. Well, considering the amount of times he got comically thwacked with a broom to no avail... That wasn't an option.

Part of him wondered if he could piss off the writers by cheating and directly asking Noise Emptyzone about his backstory for hints, but alas, his head might be an empty zone in itself as well. Ugh.

"My life is great as is. I've got everything I want! Sure, it'd be nice to have some context, but." But it might not be worth it, would it? Besides, amnesia backstories are super rad when you think about it! You get to stand out from the crowd while they all stare at you weird! Not that he cares about how others perceive him, it's just a nice thing to consider when toying with people is your whole schtick. Yeah, yeah.

"What if I'm being overdramatic and my amnesia was a blessing a disguise? Huh? What if I'm just a guy with a nothingburger past? What then??"

"Nooooiiiise, buddy, chum, pal! It's not in your nature to ask this many questions at once. What gives?"

...

One of the posters on his walls replied.

Noise didn't have the guts to turn to face the intruder. Or is it an intruder? Was he imagining a voice in his head? Which belonged to THAT clown, precisely? It certainly wasn't another bluetooth joke from Mr. Emptyzone. Even if it was, he wouldn't be mimicking the voice of his boss and... Watch him from the sidelines like that. Yeesh.

"Goddamnit," He finally mutters, "Did the bomb summon you??? We went over th"

"Ohhhhh, no no no! Quite the opposite, in fact! Your little trick proved me you didn't lose your edge!"

"..."

"...Okay, I DID regret hiring you." Comical pause, followed by a wide smile and a shrug A smile big and wide. A smile very big and wide, "But what can silly ole me say? It's a move that did wonders at its time! Heehoo!"

Noise remained uncharacteristically speechless. He didn't show any sign of hostility, nor did he bite back at his dumbass boss finding amusement in all of this. The poster was quick to notice that before rolling its eyes.

"Tongue-tied, eh? Oh well, keep annoying that sweaty Italian, Noise. It'll only benefit the both of us. Good luck with your career! And remember: don't ask questions, have fun with it! Toodle-oo!"

And with that, the illustration within the poster went back to its previous pose, ceasing to animate.

...

He's fine.

[breakerwhiskey]

173 - ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY THREE

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Okay, I am officially concerned. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but the truck was’t in the drive like usual so I just assumed…

I should have checked the whole house. But I’m so used to never coming into the garage because I know how much you hate your studio being disturbed but when I woke up this morning and you still weren’t home, well, I went in anyway and the truck is still here. In the garage.

It’s running fine—that’s where I’m broadcasting from right now, though obviously I turned the engine off. And I have to say, I’m impressed that you were actually listening when I told you to bring it inside for the winter if you weren’t going to be driving it much. But if you’re not out there driving this truck on a supply run, where are you?

I—I took the other car. Which, I’m sorry to say, is now somewhere in California, having been put out to pasture. But unless you finally decided to take an interest in car mechanics after all this time, I don’t know how else you’d be getting around. I know you love your walks—or, you did, eventually, once you got past the worst of the paranoia, but…you never went on a walk this long.

If you’re—if you’re dead in a ditch somewhere, I’m going to be fucking furious, Harry.

[click, static]

It’s…weird. Being in here. It feels like being inside your head somehow. It’s a goddamn mess, which I didn’t really expect. I’m sure you’ve got your own system—though who the hell knows—but I definitely can’t make sense of it. I’m glad to see you pulled the radio in here though. Maybe you did hear some of my transmissions after all.

Is that why you’re not here? Because you heard me say I was coming and you didn’t want to see me? You’ve enjoyed your life without me so much that you couldn’t bear to have your peace shattered.

Except…you’ve been thinking about me. I know you have. And maybe this is why you never wanted me to be in your studio in the first place.

There’s…a lot of me in here. Paintings, sketches…not all of my face always but you must have known that I’d recognize the curve of my own ear, the shape of my hands.

Have—have you been doing this all along? Or just since I left? Were you always coming in here and spending hours perfecting the color of my hair when some days you wouldn’t even speak to me—

[click, static]

Is this why you asked for the stories behind all my scars? So you could render them in perfect detail, knowing exactly what made them and when? I thought you wanted to know more about me, but maybe it was just an avenue for your art, one of the few subjects that you had access to, too tired of painting birds or trees or images from your own mind.

Or did you ask because you wanted to know? You talked once, about how painting helped you understand the world, or yourself; how that was one of the things you loved about it, one of the reasons you started painting in the first place. Because when nothing else made sense, charcoal and oil and your own hands were able to bring shape to the world.

Were you trying to understand me? Or were you trying to understand what you felt about me? Or was guilt swallowing it all up that you couldn’t uncover anything else.

I just…I need you to come back and explain what this is all about. Because in a room full of canvases and color and stray sketch pages, I keep turning and seeing my own face. I’m everywhere.

[click, static]

There’s a lot of other art too, of course. And it’s all…it’s fucking beautiful. Your art has always been so beautiful.

I…I’ve added to your collection. I picked up a painting when I was in Santa Fe, something that I thought was pretty and that I thought you might—

Well, I’ve left it in here. In case you want to do anything with it. It’s yours.

There are also—well. I wrote you some postcards. But I obviously had no way of sending them to you so I just…held onto them. But you might as well have them now.

I don’t know why I’m saying all of this on the radio like I can’t say it to you face to face. You’ll be back and you’ll probably be annoyed that I left stuff in your studio without asking. There’s no need for me to leave anything for you, not when I can just hand it to you.

But I just have this feeling…

I’m going to look for you tomorrow. Drive to the usual spots, take a walk in the woods behind the house. And because I’m fucking considerate, I’m going to leave a note.

[click, static]