#because what do you mean this is their last interaction for a good long while

[wasabi-gumdrop]

oh

i am. unwell.

[nepenthendline]

the not-so-good parts about dating them

a/n: I am nothing if not a red flag lover

includes: midoriya, todokori, bakugo, shinsou, kirishima, kaminari, iida, hawks, aizawa

Midoriya -

Midoriya's priority list is '1. everyone' so, sometimes, it's difficult to feel special in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't see you as a top priority, he just often lets himself get caught up with other people and dealing with their problems so you don't get his undivided attention all that often. He doesn't mean to do it at all, but he has missed dates before because he was staying late at work to help his students or got stuck helping out a friend.

Bakugo -

🤨 Aside from his obvious anger issues, Bakugo often struggles to see you as a team and not just individuals. Whenever you argue, he often sees it as a 'me vs you' and not a 'us vs the problem', and he sometimes makes big decisions without talking to you first. He feels like he has to be better than you because he needs to be a provider and a protector, so he tackles issues on his own instead of talking to you and working things through as a team.

Todoroki -

Todokori has no reference to what a 'healthy' relationship looks like, and it terrifies him. All he knows is what, or who, he doesn't want to end up like, and it stops him from taking initiative in your relationship because he's scared of doing the wrong thing. He knows he's not like his father, but he still worries that he's going to end up like him anyway, as if it's fated. Because of this, things move incredibly slowly, and it can be hard to tell that he does love you since he doesn't often make moves or use words to show you. He knows he wants, and needs, to improve though, he just needs some guidance.

Kaminari -

Kaminari struggles with self-sabotage in your relationship - he convinces himself that he's not good enough for you or that he's making your life worse by being with you, and can push you away, cancel dates late minute or act like he doesn't need you. These actions never last long before he snaps out of it, and you're well aware by now of what's going on in his head when he starts acting like this, but he's always convinced he's going to fuck this up. And sometimes, he believes it so much that he does. The guilt eats away at him daily.

Kirishima -

(Absolutely nothing) Kirishima hates showing you when he's feeling down, weak, or 'unmanly'. He bottles up a lot of his negative emotions and thoughts away from you and they gnaw away at him. Its not that he feels like he can't talk to you, in fact sometimes he lets things slip because he feels so comfortable around you, but quickly tries to put a positive spin on his words so that you don't worry. It's more that he feels he shouldn't, and that you have enough things to deal with as it is. He wants to be a safe space for you, so dealing with his emotions is out of the question. He never blows up at you because things get too far though, you just wish he could rely on you more.

Iida -

For the first while in your relationship, it almost felt like you lost your friendship with Iida. The lines between being friends and being a partner were extremely defined to Iida for some time, and he felt that every interaction between the two of you had to be so formally-relationshipy - this meant things such as only spending time with you on pre-scheduled dates, affection felt like ticking boxes on what was 'meant' to come next in a relationship, or not letting you see his deeper, darker times. Things do get better after some time and conversations, but it kinda felt like the first year of your relationship didn't really count.

Shinsou -

Shinsou feels like being with you is the most selfish act someone has ever committed. Sometimes he even thinks that, somehow in a way he doesn't know, he's forcing you to be with him. He feels like you can do so much better than him, but he loves you too much to let you go (not that you would anyway). He thinks that he doesnt treat you as well as you deserve and so he goes overboard to 'make things up to you', when in reality he's the most caring, selfless person you've met. He often brings up the idea of you finding someone else, or that you can cheat on him and he'll stay if that makes you happy, and it breaks your heart every time.

Aizawa -

Aizawa feels like everyone he truly lets in, he has lost, and he is terrified that's going to happen to you. So, he tries to keep his feelings and thoughts for you as surface-level as possible. The problem is that he's terrible at doing that - he has such a big heart and he wants you in every way imaginable, which creates a lot of inner conflict for him. One minute he's telling you everything weighing on his mind and letting himself fall deeper into you, and the next he's keeping you at arms length. He's scared to admit that he relies on you or that he needs you, but he does it anyway and it tears him apart inside.

Hawks -

He lies to you more times that he would like to admit. Well, it's more that he's very good about skirting around a question or situation rather than telling you the truth. There's some things in his life, his past, or his thoughts that he feels are best not being part of your life, and so he will tell you little lies and make adjustments to the truth to fit a narrative that he prefers. He wants to protect you from any negativity or darkness that he can - he knows what going through that feels like and he does not want you to have to feel that too, but mostly, and most selfishly, he's terrified of you thinking he's a bad person because of some actions he's had to take. It can be almost impossible to tell when he's lying or telling the truth because he's extremely open and upfront with other topics.

[docdudo]

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader

You never thought you would be in this situation, running for your life as you try to get to your grandfather's cabin near the entrance of the woods as fast as possible.

Well, that's kind of a lie. You did expect something like this to happen at some point, but why now...??

Your biggest problem has always been the fact that you were a witch, born from the humid earth near a river source and blessed by the nature spirits of the forest.

Which, okay, it wouldn't be a problem...

If you weren't a witch without a Coven.

And you were so young too. Fate really dealt you the worst cards, making you, a small witch, barely in your teen years, fend for yourself without a Coven to protect or guide you.

It was dangerous, madness even. Young witches were easy targets. They didn't really have strong magic yet, couldn't interact with nature spirits that well or defend themselves. That's why they needed the protection of the older witches, who would keep their little ones safely tucked in the heart of the coven, only letting them out when they come of age (for witches), and in small doses until they get used to the world.

You... didn't have that luxery tho.

You have no idea what really happened to you when you were born. Usually, witches from the coven would all be present to a newborn's birth, help them settle and taking them with them as one more little sprout for the Coven.

But, all you had was your grandfather's story, about how he found a baby covered in dirt by the river bank, not crying or making any kind of sound, just peacefully laying there as the forest kept it safe for who know how long.

He knew you were a witch, that much was obvious. He knew you were just born too, but he didn't manage to find any other witch living around that place, much less a whole Coven of them.

So, he took you in, which you were pretty grateful for. You though that it would be fine, i mean... sure, you didn't have a Coven, but who needed them anyway?? You were doing fine by yourself...! Especially after you managed to control a bit more of your magic! Your grandfather told you were very powerful for a baby witch, which is nice! See, you didn't need a Coven...!

Except, being "powerful" for a baby witch wasn't really... that powerful in the first place, and now, you were being freaking hunted down after a mistake you made.

Ah, being hunted down by who? That's simple.

A freaking pack of familiars, four of them to be exact.

There's one little detail about all of this... witches have familiars, powerful creatures that were the most loyal beasts you could ever have for yourself. Usually, a powerful and old witch would never link themselves to a weak familiar, even if they could grow strong with time and a good master guiding them.

And you could imagine the same would happen to the opposite situation... except, familiars were freaking bastards.

One of the reasons older Witches kept their young very well hidden and safe in their Covens is because rogue familiars hunt down little witches to force a bound with them.

While mature witches look for familiars around their same power level, powerful familiars like to take in small and young witches to mold the to their liking. Teach the little witch how to properly use their magic, be their primary guides and protectors.

And you? You were a very young witch, with no Coven on sight, and that showed a very big potential since your magic was stronger than other baby witches your age.

You were a prime target.

And you were being hunted down by four bastards that were toying with you the whole chase.

You could tell they were powerful, just not... how powerful. Since you were still too young, it was quite difficult to identify these things. It's like you could feel the heat of the flame but not see how big the flame was.

But you had a hunch they were... very powerful... at least, that's what you thought, since there were four of them, bounded together. It means their last witch was probably old and strong enough to have four of these big beasts.

Not that your theory matters now, not when you are trying to run in this stupid thick forest from four big familiars that you could hear laughing and taunting you.

Tauting you gently, at most. They already knew they had you.

You already knew they had you.

Still, you were running, even if just because you were high in adrenaline and refused to just stop.

That is, until you fell harshly on the ground after tripping over a rock or some shit hidden on this stupid dense forest.

Goddammit.

"Aww, lassie, c'mere, did it hurt?" You widden your eyes in surprise as you hear the heavy scottish accent right behind you, big hands carefully grabbing under your arms to lift you up on your feet like a kitten.

You squirm momentarily in discomfort, settling down a little as he puts you down and gently pats your clothes. You wish you had more fight in you, but you were still young and just took a nasty fall. It stunned you enough to barely react to the big familiar gently fixing your clothes.

"Oww, baby, it's okay." Another one of them, the dark skinned one with a heart shaped mouth, approached easily, both warm hands immediatly cupping your face to check on you. "We're sorry for making you play until you got hurt, we're not doing it again...." He coos gently, a warm smile on his face.

He looked... so happy......... freak, the scottish-mohawk guy by his side looked ecstatic, such a big smile on his face.

Well.... familiars always prefered to be linked to a witch.

You jumped a bit as you heard the rustling of leaves in the distance, eyes falling immediatly on the big black wolf behind some trees. That's certainly one big bastard of a familiar, even in his animal form...

Wait... where is the last one then...?

"Darlin', we need to talk, don't we?"

You freeze for complete as you feel a heavy, warm hand hold the back of your neck, not hurting, not ever, just... locking you in place. His voice is low and gruff, authoritarian, but it's... soft enough. Enough for you to know that he's forcing softness to speak to you.

His hand feels so damn big around your small neck...

It's okay, it's okay... familiars rarely ever hurt a witch for no reason.

Besides, they don't seen that inclined on hurting you anyway... no, you know they are ready to claim you for them.

The mess you found yourself in...

"T-Talk...?" You murmur quietly, unsure, still a bit stunned as you try to look over your shoulder.

"Wee lass just took a fall, Price, little witch like this might've gotten hurt." The scottish one says easily, smile still on his face as he approaches you a bit more to gently hold on your head, inspecting you himself now.

"She's just a tad stunned, no harm done." This voice was new, and very low. Gravelly. Patient.

The wolf familiar went back to his human form, leaned against a tree as he observed you with crossed arms and a relaxed posture. Indeed, a big bastard.

"That's why we shouldn't play with the young ones like this. I told you that they get hurt easily." The dark skinned one sighs slightly, like he was scolding the big brute by the trees.

"Boys, focus. We are not yet marked to her, and she's out here, exposed and defenseless. We're taking her home." The 'Price' guy says slowly, his authority over the others obvious by how they all straightened at his command.

"W-Wait-" You manage to find your voice once again, only to be interrupted by the scottish guy.

"The Coven?"

"If she had one, wouldn't be wandering around 'ere by 'erself." The wolf one rumbles, still relaxed against the trees.

"A baby witch without a Coven?" The dark skinned one considers, eyes narrowing.

"Sometimes it happens. Rare, but it can happen. All the more reason to get her to safety." Price rumbles back, voice getting... grow-ly, the hand on your neck heavier. "Soap."

"Aye, Cap." He smiles easily, bending down closer to your height, meeting your big, scared eyes. "Let's go, wee lassie, ye're safe." He coos, and before you can protest, one of his fingers are touching your forehead, a wave of pure magic going through you. "Nap nap time, huh?"

And just like that, you are loosing your consciousness, falling directly on his arms as you feel him picking you up easily before falling asleep.

[eccentricallygothic]

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened? 

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close. 

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 

But you don't know when he does it. 

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him. 

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck. 

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well. 

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat. 

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed. 

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

.

What do you think hAH-

[kisses4reid]

convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.

edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶

the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.

it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.

he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.

“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.

“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”

your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.

“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.

“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.

you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.

and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.

you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.

the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.

he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,

“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”

he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.

you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.

a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.

“big night?”

“uh- what?”

“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.

now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.

“what’s your word limit?”

“3500.”

“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”

you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”

“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”

you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.

pt. 2

[honeekyuu]

talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

ten. ruin

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. uhm....... yeah.

warnings: swearing, phone sex

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

“No you didn’t-”

“I did!” Suna laughs on the other end, and you giggle into your cup in response, brain fuzzy and warm. “I walked into a room full of fourth years and pulled out my canvas and when I looked up— boom. Naked ass man, dick in my face-”

“Stop!” you wheeze, shaking your head. “How the hell did you not realize-”

“I was nervous! I was so nervous to be there that I didn’t even realize I was in the wrong fucking room.”

“Did you leave?!”

“No! Of course I fucking didn’t!” You hear two sharp thuds on the other end and know just by the sound that Suna’s pounding his fist on the table. “I tunnel-visioned my way into a nude modeling class as a first year — you really think I had the courage to get up and leave after that?” 

You take a long sip of your mixed drink, leaning back against the arm of your couch and sighing deep after you swallow. “So? Then what happened?”

“Uh – I missed syllabus day of Art as Identity and drew a charcoal recreation of some random guy’s penis. Komori has it framed in his kitchen. It’s a talking point for guests and friends alike.” 

“I can’t believe you’re this much of an introvert,” you say, shaking your head with a giddy grin. “You’re so loud with me-”

“Okay, go ahead and add salt to the wound-” he barks sarcastically, snickering when you break into laughter. 

“You’re funny, Suna,” you say openly after a minute, sighing into the admission. “More people should know how funny you are.” 

“Just you’s enough, I think — and maybe your friends, just so they like me,” he responds, quiet filling the space between you for a moment. You chew on your lip while you think.

“What’d you think of them?” you whisper after a moment. “My friends.”

“Your friends?” he repeats, confusion seeping into his voice. “I mean, I always thought Suga was a weird dude, but he’s overall pretty chill and funny. Especially with Alisa – they fight a lot, don’t they?”

You smile fondly. “She likes to make him angry. He’s really easy to rile up.”

“Yeah, I could tell. They seem like good friends. I feel like I got to know you better by meeting them.”

You sigh quietly, the question burned into your mind starting to feel like guilt. You shouldn’t ask, because the truth is that your friends are the perfect friends. They’re both perfect, and you don’t know where you’d be without them. And you’re not in the habit of comparing yourself to your best friend, because you know she’d kill you for doing that.

But still, the question lingers.

“And… Alisa?” you ask, feeling the terrible guilt burn in your throat like bile. “What’d you think of her?” 

You can hear the wheels turning in Suna’s head, the silence on his end growing haunting as the seconds tick by.

“I think she’s beautiful,” he says, and – through the horrible, disappointed swooping in your gut – you realize that him being this honest even when he can tell what’s bothering you only makes you trust him more. He knows what you’re looking for, and he makes no move to sugarcoat his thoughts for you. Your respect for him grows. “But me acknowledging that she’s beautiful and me having feelings for you can both be true. Can’t they?”

You shut your eyes, sighing. You feel like an idiot. “Yes.”

“Just because your best friend is beautiful, that doesn’t mean you’re not.”

“I know.”

“I can think she’s beautiful and also think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen-”

“Oh, my God,” you laugh, embarrassed. “I get it, Suna. It was a stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, and you can hear his smile. “Promise not to do it again?”

“No,” you mutter. He laughs.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You feel the conversation end there, and, despite the embarrassment, you feel glad that you asked. “I was thinking about something a minute ago actually,” he says, interrupting your thought. “You call me by my last name.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, the previous conversation forgotten, and purse your lips. “Is it not your name?” 

“Yeah, but…” He swallows audibly and then laughs to himself. “Your friends also call me Suna.”

You warm, seeing where this is going. “Would you rather me call you Rintarou?” His name feels foreign in your mouth, as if your tongue is just as nervous as you are, but you kind of like the taste of it.

His name feels important.

The other end of the line goes completely silent, long enough that you pull your phone away from your face to check that the call’s still connected. 

“Shit,” he breathes finally. “I dunno anymore. I was gonna suggest it, but I dunno if I can handle that, Y/n.”

Your name sounds important on his tongue, too.

Your chest starts to flutter with nerves, but the alcohol wants you to push it. “What about Rin?” It tastes intimate and presumptuous, that cut of his name from three syllables to one. You want him to taste it, too.

“Christ,” he laughs. “God, Y/n. You tryna kill me? You sent your friends to wound me critically and now this?”

“I think I like that one, actually,” you breathe. “Rin.”

“Stop it,” he laughs weakly.

“Rin.” You roll it around in your mouth, sinking deeper into your couch while you consider it.

“Cut it out,” he whispers, soft and breathy.

“Rinnie.” You like the way your lips wrap around it. You like the space it takes up and the way your voice cradles it, round and warm.

“Y/n.” His voice isn’t round and warm. It’s sharp. Thick with warning. Dragging your own name down your back like the back of a blade, leaving your skin pebbled with goosebumps and the base of your spine tugging at a knot under your navel dangerously. “Cut it out.”

You shiver and press your thighs together. “Okay,” you breathe, a soft whine coating the sound. The alcohol wants you to push your luck, and it’s so wonderfully easy to listen. “Sorry, Rinnie.”

“Shit,” he groans quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Do what?”

“You know exactly fucking what.”

Your stomach flips at his tone, and there’s a pulse of desire between your thighs that has you biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your head is warm and staticky and desperately likes the sound of Suna’s voice, especially when he talks to you like that. 

“So?” you whisper, the courage there but incredibly small and entirely driven the liquor in your cup. “Are you hard?” 

Suna’s exhale is sharp, surprised. “W-What?” 

“You said over text.” Your face burns, but the idea of Suna Rintarou getting turned on by a combination of your voice and the way you say his name has you pushing out of your comfort zone. You want him too much. “That if I called you, you’d get hard. Are you?” 

He breathes hard for a beat, the sound shaky. And then he whispers, the sound soft and right in your ear in the most delicious way. 

“You know I am, pretty girl.” 

“How long?”

“Since you said my name.”

You shiver, pressing your thighs together hard. The flip of your nerves, low in your gut, is sharpened and heightened by the buzz of vodka in your veins, and you gasp quietly, trying to bring your heart rate back to normal.

“You should do something about that,” you whisper, skin vibrating when you do. You’d never be this confident sober.

He whines in response.

Suna Rintarou whines in your ear, desperate and impossible to deny. 

You feel your body become addicted to a man you’ve never met. 

“‘re you sure?” he breathes. “I don’t wanna do anything that you don’t-“

“Want you to do it,” you whisper, pulse racing and legs damn near going numb from how nervous you are. “Wanna hear you touch yourself.”

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and laced with frustration. “Fuck, Y/n — how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You’re not,” you try. “Unless you really don’t want t-“

“I do. Fuck, I do.” He sounds the most sober he’s sounded all night, direct and honest and making your heart feel like it’s going to rip out of your chest. “Will-I…” You hear him swallow. “Will you do it, too? Are you turned on?” 

Your heart jumps into your throat, hope and desire mixing dangerously with the vodka. “Yes.” 

“What’s that an answer to?” he laughs, weak and nervous. 

“Both.” 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Will you? Want you to feel good, too.”

“Really?” Your voice sounds insecure, even in your own ears. You still aren’t used to that — to him. 

“Yes,” he urges. “God, yes. I want to make you feel good so badly, baby.” He swallows. “Can I talk to you? Make you feel good like that?” Your shaky exhale must speak for you, because he just gives another weak laugh. “Yeah? Is that okay?”

You’ve never been so full of want that it makes you cry, but you’re pretty damn close at this singular moment in time. 

“Okay,” you say, voice wavering. Suna’s exhale on the other line is just as shaky. 

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Shit-Uhm. C-Can I have a picture, baby? If that’s okay?” 

You whine in protest, already embarrassed, but you can hear how nervous he is. How unused to this he is. That this is just as terrifying and embarrassing for him, that he’s putting himself out there for you. 

It would be rude not to reciprocate. 

You take a steeling breath and pull the phone away from your face, setting it on the coffee table and putting it on speakerphone. “I look kind of messy,” you say. You start to adjust your clothes, grimacing at the frumpy shirt and shorts you’re wearing.

“I like messy,” he says, and you laugh pathetically. 

“It’s not very sexy.” You pull your hair down and ruffle it to be as attractive as possible, and then you consider your shorts for a full two seconds before throwing caution to the wind and getting rid of them. They land on the floor with an audible fwip, and Suna’s silent on the other end.

“Please tell me you didn’t just take all your clothes off,” he breathes finally. “I don’t know if I’m in a state to emotionally handle that right now.” 

You giggle, face burning and heart pounding in your ears as you open your camera and angle it favorably. ”Not all my clothes.”

“Shit.” 

You cross one arm over your torso and use it to push your breasts up, watching them swell in the camera. A rush of heat burns at your ears and neck, and your lip wobbles while you take the picture. 

Lifting the phone close, you examine the photo. You can see all the flaws that you’ve always seen, and it makes you freeze with insecurity. Makes you want to delete it and back out.

But then you hear him, his quiet ‘baby?’ on the other end, and you remember who you’re talking to. 

You hope he won’t see all the flaws you do — but there’s a piece of you that knows he will see them, but not as flaws. Because that’s who he is. 

Breath held tight in your lungs, you send off the photo, and then your head starts to pound with anxiety. 

Will he like it? Will he think it’s awkward? Will he realize that maybe he thinks you’re pretty, but he’s not sexually attracted to you the way he thought he would be—

“Oh, holy shit-” Suna’s voice is tight, thick with an emotion that’s so clearly lust that even you can’t deny it. ”Holy shit, Y/n. You’re so fucking-” He cuts off, taking a shuddering breath. “Fuck, I might start drooling.” 

You laugh, the tension breaking a little. “You’re funny-”

“I’m not joking.” Your breath catches at the sharp snap of his voice — your heart lurches, and desire swirls violently in your gut, because Suna Rintarou’s voice is starting to do that to you. “I’m not fucking joking, Y/n — you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

You blink, sinking low on the couch. “What?” 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Y/n, you turn me on so much. I’m so fucking-” He laughs. “God, it’s embarrassing.” 

Your fingers shake as you press the phone desperately to your ear. “You’re so fucking what?” you ask meekly, nervous but craving more with every second that passes. 

He laughs again, self-deprecating. “I’m so fucking hard right now. Because of you. Because of this one photo.”

Your free hand drops between your thighs before you can think too long about it. “And you haven’t done anything about it yet?” 

“Oh, my God,” he groans, and you can hear the want in his voice. The strain in his tone as he tries to keep himself in line. “God, I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last with you, Y/n.” 

The pads of your fingers press to your clothed clit when he says your name — important, full — and it makes your desire curl and snap. You moan quietly, pursing your lips together to stop the sound — just a moment too late. 

“Fuuuck-” he says, reacting immediately to your voice. You hear shuffling, and then a burning, brutal exhale of relief, and you know he’s touching himself. The low whine trapped in his throat tells you as much. Tells you how badly he’s trying to keep his head on straight for you.  

You don’t want him to do that. You want him as lost as you are.

So you shut your eyes and lean your head back and let the alcohol take control. Let the fuzzy static in your head grow louder, let the desire throbbing in your core grow stronger. Let the choked whine in Suna’s throat take over, pulling you that much closer to the edge.

“Rin,” you breathe, yielding control to your limbs and smothering all hesitation in favor of slipping your hand past the band of your underwear. When your fingers touch down to your core, cold fingertips to searing hot skin, you moan louder. Loud enough to be heard and not caring enough to stop it. “Fuck, Rin— Can I have a picture, too?” He groans on the other line, shaky and uneven, and you whine in response. “Please? It’s only fair…”

He doesn’t say a single word back — just gives a trembling breath when you beg — but your phone buzzes against your face a moment later.

He’s got his hand down his sweats, the outline of his cock clear and the outline of his hand wrapped around it even clearer. His face is flushed a deep, searing red, and his parted lips are swollen and pink, eyes hooded with desire as he looks up into the camera. 

He’s in bed. He’s in bed, drunk and touching himself while thinking about you — the you in the photo, the you on your couch, touching yourself while you think about him, too. 

“Christ,” you whisper, eyes flying across the screen while your fingers dip low and slip with terrible ease past your entrance — two fingers in, the stretch heavenly, when your eyes land on the outline of his cock. “I don’t know if I can take you, Rinnie.” 

His inhale is shocked and laced with a moan, and then he’s coming undone in your ear. 

“You can take it, baby. I know you can take me so well.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp, back arching off the couch and fingers curling hard against your walls. “You would make me-”

“Gonna make you take it,” he finishes in a voice so rough and broken that you know he’s stopped trying to keep control, too. “Wanna make you take it, wanna show you how good you are for me. How much you’re made for me-”

“Oh, my God, I’m-”

“Wanna make you come around me. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock, pretty girl.”

“Rin,” you squeak in warning, your gut curling hard with desire, tension so close to snapping. “Rinnie, I-”

“Want my name on your tongue when I come inside you.” His voice is pitching up, breath stuttering and syllables twisting short in his mouth. “Want my name in your mouth when I ruin you for anyone else.”

It’s only right, then, that you cry his name when your orgasm slams into you full-force, pulsing and crashing down over you without warning.

By the time you come back to yourself, your walls are twitching with aftershocks around your fingers, and your breath is loud and heavy in your ears. 

Suna’s own breath is shaky in your ears, too. He whispers your name, tired and drained but still full. Still important.

You might have ruined him for anyone else, too.

[evilslushy]

would you be open to doing bf headcanons for hamzah? they could be sfw and nsfw or just sfw. love ur writing :). <3

BF Headcanons _♡

SFW

i’m a very opinionated person, so asking me about my hamzah headcanons is a FIELD DAY for me

I’ve always said this but I feel like hamzah (in the beginning of the relationship) is very shy? Not in the way of “ignore any possible interaction between you and him” but more of a “ignores eye contact after a kiss” or “blushes when you call him a nickname for the first time”

He acts like he hates when you baby him but behind closed doors… BIGGEST BABY EVERRRR

It took him a while to hold your hand in public, not because he's embarrassed but again because he gets too flustered when you run your thumb up and down against the back of his hand,,, or when you play with his hands in general.

I MENTIONED THIS BEFORE IN A FIC BUT HAMZAH IS AN EAR BLUSHER AND HE'S SO CUTE WAA

If you get on his lap and play with his hair while talking about random stuff, and you kiss him out of nowhere HE’LL SMILE THIS BIG SMILE AND COVER HIS EARS IM CRYINGGGGG HES SO CUTE

Speaking of kissing lololol

Hamzah’s kisses are SENSUAL, he takes his time and really makes sure you feel his love

Contrary to popular belief i feel like if you’re with hamzah for long enough his love language becomes physical touch

And i dont say that and mean ONLY kisses but hes such a cuddly person. HE NEEDS THAT TLC HES A BIG BOY

BUT. Big but! He is not the type of person to show affection publicly IM SORRYYY

Holding hands and hugging is fine but i think more intimate things he’d rather do in private…

Not because hes embarrassed as i said, he gets shy at other people perceiving that version of him especially since he isn’t ‘acting’ or ‘joking’

Also he feels like only you deserve to see him like this hehehe

His love language is quality time. Like actually.

His head on your chest, playing stardew valley on his ipad. You watching TV or reading while playing with his curls.

Another form of this is that he’ll ask you to be him and martins cameraman just to have you there with him

Or he’ll ask if you want to try a new coffee shop that opened down the street

He’s a man that likes to be around you 24/7

ALSO ALSO ALSO OMG OMG

HE WOULD SO FORCE YOU TO DO BACKGROUND VOCALS FOR SOME OF HIS MUSIC LIKE THE RAPPERS HE LIKES LMFAO

I dont wanna go on too long with this but one thing is for sure

You’re his princess for REAL treats you like ROYALTY lol

If you guys get into an argument. Even if you’re wrong, he ends up apologizing

“I shouldn’t have let it boil over to this anyway.”

10/10 boyfriend. Totally recommend.

NSFW

SISTA. I HAVE NEVER EVER THOUGHT I’D HAVE THE PLATFORM TO SHARE THESE THOUGHTS BUT I HAVE TO MAKE SURE YALL UNDERSTAND ONE THING!!!!

Hamzah is NAWT a boob or ass guy. HE LIKES BOTH EQUALLY. (He is secretly is ass-leaning tho LMFAO)

This is so funny but he totally is the type to smack your ass randomly when he walks by.

Do you get mad? Yes. Do you tell him to stop it? Yes. Does he stop? No. Do you secretly think it's kinda…? WELL YESSS

TWO WORDS. Boob squeezer.

I think from what we can understand so far. is that Hamzah is the handsy man. HIS HANDS ALWAYS SOMEWHERE LOL

sex drive is for sure high. and when i say high… ITS HIGHHH

Contrary to popular belief AGAIN.

Hamzah doesn��t partake in dirty talk much… not that he doesn't like it—he just wouldn’t in my opinion? It's not that he wouldn’t talk at all, but he is more of a heavy breathing, whimpering, moaning guy—pretty much more noises than actual words

Though as i said, he would talk sometimes, especially if he’s feeling really good, or his stamina is lasting him longer than he thought… he starts getting a little cocky

On the topic of dirty talk, if he does talk, 99.9% of it would be praising, i don't see him enjoying degrading unless you ask him to.. but he’ll be a little awkward about it LMFAOOO

Something like: “fuck, baby you’re taking me so good.”

(Unironically starts actually using good girl after a while of making it a joke btw)

Someone sent a request a few days ago and said “i feel like hamzah has a breeding kink” and why was i gagged?! NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT BUT YES, i feel like hes more into the thought filling u with *** then the thought of impregnating you if that makes any sense

Im talking too much… digital footprint go hard.

(A/N): this isnt proofread, i kinda braindumped but i had fun doing this!! Thank u anon for the request I HOPE U LOVE THIS CUTIE MWAAAAHH

[whiteobsidian]

cyra's loa guide

this will be my first and last post about how to manifest. i’ve gotten many asks on what loa is, how to manifest and if they can manifest xyz. there are hundreds of guides on tumblr on how to manifest, here is mine. i hope this can be helpful to any one discovering loa or a comforting post to those who doubt themselves. with that being said, do not go in my inbox and ask how to manifest and if you can. everything is here in this post,

xx,cyra

What is the Law of Assumption?

the law of assumption is a universal law that states that whatever you assume to be true, is true. This law is always working, it can never stop working as 90% of our thoughts are assumptions. Assumptions can be created by our circumstance, perception, and opinions of the world around us.

What is an Assumption? 

The google definition of an assumption is “a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof”, meaning that you assume something as true without having proof in front of you to support that statement.

An example of assumptions are:

“The weather is always hot here”

“I’m not good enough to do this”

“People who dress casually don’t care about their appearance”

Assumptions can be menial or controversial, it doesn't matter what they are, you just need to realize you assume the things in your life all the time.

What is the Subconscious and Conscious mind?

The subconscious mind is a part of the brain that is not focally aware (it can’t see!).  This part of your brain is always consuming information from you , it stores long term memories, beliefs, and assumptions without you being aware of it. It acts on the assumptions you repeatedly persist in and it does not care if the assumption is true or false, it works on what you focus on most. 

The conscious mind is the part of your mind that you are aware of. This part controls your logical/active thinking. Here you make decisions, set goals, analyze situation, and focus attention on tasks or subjects. Here you consciously decide and identify with your desire and choose affirmations and/or visualizations to ‘impress’ your subconscious mind. 

In summary, The conscious helps you set the intention of your desire and the subconscious mind absorbs this intention, aligns your feelings, and works to create the reality to match it. 

What is the 3D and 4D?

The 3D is the physical reality you perceive with your senses( smell, touch, see, taste, hear). It is a mirror that reflects your inner state.

The 4D is your imagination and inner consciousness (your awareness that exists beyond consciousness and/or the true self separate from external influence). 

Awareness is is your true self ( sometimes considered God or Creator), it operates in the 4D.

Ego is your human identity, bound to logic, past experiences, and physical senses. The ego cannot perceive the workings of the 4D and may have fear/doubts. 

Time and Detachment

 Manifestation is instant. Your inner world is creating the outer world, and as soon as you change your assumptions and feelings, the outer reality shifts.

The 3D world doesn’t control you,  it reflects you. While you interact with it, don’t accept it as your ultimate reality. If circumstances frustrate you, allow yourself to feel those emotions but remind yourself that they’re remnants of an old state. Let doubts or fears arise naturally. Instead of arguing with yourself and getting frustrated, let the thoughts pass and know these doubts have no affect on your desires.

 Time is an irrelevant concept because the moment you assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled, the manifestation has taken place, and is finished. 

The inner you/4D does not experience time, you have it instantly. Do not be bound by your physical reality, that is not your true self. 

What is a state?

A state is the mental and emotional condition you are in. It reflects your beliefs, assumptions, and feelings about yourself and your desire. The goal in manifestation is to consciously shift your state of already having your desires. The key is to embody the feelings and thoughts of the desired state. Understand that your inner world shapes your outer experience. For instance, if you want to manifest abundance, you need to live in the state of abundance by feeling and thinking as though you are already wealthy.

The state of fulfillment is the feeling that what you want is already true in your life. In this state you are confident and assured that your desires have already materialized. This state will feel natural and effortless (as manifestation should be).

You can change your state by changing your thoughts, feelings, and assumptions on your desire.  

How do I manifest?

Step 1: Decide What You Want

Get clear on your desire. 

Step 2: Assume It Is Already Yours

Imagine yourself already having your desire. Use the phrase: “I am/have [your desire].”

Step 3: Feel It as True

Experience the feeling of already having it. It’s not about forcing emotions but genuinely dwelling in the state where your desire is fulfilled.

Step 4: Let It Be

After assuming your desire, release the need to “make it happen” in the 3D. Trust that it is already yours and will reflect externally. 

Can I manifest xyz?

Yes. you can manifest whatever you want, it doesn’t matter if it seems unrealistic or impossible, you can still manifest whatever you want. You perceive some desires as big or unattainable because of societies own assumptions on it. You don’t need to suffer to get good things, you don’t need to work, or change your circumstance to get good things. It all relies on your thoughts.  

How do I persist?

To persist means that you stay firm in your assumption that your desire has already manifested, regardless of any circumstances, fears, and doubts. When you persist, you acknowledge that doubts and fears may appear, but you don’t give up on your belief in your desired outcome. In essence, you're just reminding yourself that you have your desire. You can live in the end, affirm, visualize, script etc, or anyway you want to persist.

 Persistence is about consistency. This doesn’t mean obsessing over your desires, but consistently maintaining your belief in the manifestation.

Remind yourself that your desire has already manifested in the 4D, and your 3D reality is simply catching up. 

Void State

The void state is pure consciousness (or pure awareness), free from physical senses and 3D distractions. Entering this state is about detaching from external reality and focusing solely on your awareness. This can happen at any time with practice. Relax your body, let go of external thoughts, and place your awareness on your inner state. The void is where you realize your infinite creative power as awareness.

Who is Neville Goddard?

Goddard was a teach and author known for teaching the powers of manifestation, imagination, and consciousness. His principles align heavily with the Law of Assumption and we continue to use his teaching's today.

Imagination

Goddard taught that imagining a scene as though it already happened is the key to manifesting it in reality. He believed that our imaginations is the force behind everything in life. You don’t need external validation or techniques to manifest,  simply need to shift your inner state.

God is within You

Goddard taught that God is not a separate from us but rather the power of awareness  within all of us. If you identify as someone who has what they desire, your outer world will reflect that identity. He referred this to the “I AM” state, which is the force of universe.

“Man is all imagination, and God is man and exists in us and we in Him.”

Feeling is the Secret

According to Goddard, our feelings are the key to manifestation. The feeling of already having your desire ‘impresses’ our subconscious mind, which then brings it into reality. Feel as though you already have what you desire (because you do.)

Living in the End

This means that we should feel and think as though your desire has already come true. For example, let’s say you want a job, think and feel how you would if you had the job. Go straight to the end. You only need to repeatedly assume the feeling of already having what you want. 

Techniques you can use to Manifest: 

Imagination

Your imagination is the creative power of your awareness. When you close your eyes and visualize, you are stepping into the 4D. Create scenes that imply your desire is fulfilled and dream in them.

Scripting

Write out your desires as if they’ve already happened. Example: “I am so grateful to have my dream job. I feel fulfilled and excited every day.”

Affirmations

Affirmations are simple statements of what you want as if it’s already true. Example: “I am loved,” or “I have everything I desire.” Make sure to repeat affirmations you resonate with.

Revision

Rewrite past experiences in your imagination. For instance, if you had a bad day, imagine it going exactly how you wanted instead. This changes your assumptions about reality.

Circumstances don’t matter. The 3D is only showing remnants of old assumptions. Stay faithful to your new state.

Extra/Rant:

You don't need a technique to manifest, you can affirm once or affirm hundreds of times for hours : you still get your desire.

If you keep asking yourself why you don't have your desire, then you don't completely understand it. i've explained it as much as I could.

be kind to yourself, don't beat yourself up. manifestation should be easy, if it's hard you're putting too much pressure on yourself.

my beliefs on manifestation may not align with yours, that's fine. this is just how i perceived it in my years in the community.

You can manifest whatever you want, yes you can. It doesn’t matter what it is and how crazy it sounds, you can manifest it. yes you can manifest out of thin air, multiple things at once, etc. there is no limit in manifestation. Manifestation is real, LOA is real, it isn’t my job to convince you, that is your decision. Stop asking me for permission, stop asking period, all you need to do is assume. Let this be your sign, just decide, right now that you have everything you want. You and your mind are not separate beings, your mind is you, you control everything! Everything is in your hands, use it.

happy new year and live you dream life.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Ending Things (Long Drabble) Author's Note: Oh this one hurt to write. And I'm not gonna lie - it's going to keep getting worse from here Warnings: MDNI, Angst

After that one night you over did it at the bar, you woke up, hungover and worried that you had done something stupid in front of the 141. But it seemed like things were fine as everything went on as usual the next few weeks. If anything you assumed something happened between them as you sensed some weird tension among them. But you weren't worried, they're the 141. They'll figure it out.

And it seems like they did after that random meeting in Price's office. But as they returned to normal, your relationship with everyone shifted.

It's like these last few months of camaraderie just disappeared. No more "good mornings", "how are you", "any plans tonight" - nothing of the sort. Instead, it's just commands, orders, and the occasional question about intel and reports, but overall nothing too comfortable. Confused by the sudden switch up, you decide to reach out first and figure out what happened.

If you had done something, then the least they can do is be mature about it and tell you. Because that's what teams do.

So with some recently dropped intel, you knock on Soap's door. After hearing him say enter, you walk in and take note of how the sergeant faltered, surprised to see you in his office.

"Hey Johnny-boy, I was wondering if you could help me go through some files we just got?" This was y'all's thing. He's never turned you down before so in your mind, this was foolproof. Or at least, you thought it was.

"If you can't handle some measly reports, you should probably re-evaluate your career choices. I can't always hold your hand when things get hard. I got my own work to do, you know?," he says, eyes still on his paperwork. Annoyance clear in his voice.

Your mouth runs dry. You try to save face and explain that you just value his insight on things. Your face heats up when he looks at you with the most unimpressed eyes. You apologize for wasting his time and quickly leave his office, feeling embarrassed by the interaction.

What you don't see is the way the Scotsman winced when he sees his door close, knowing that you left feeling like a fool.

Things with Soap did not go well, but you try not to dwell too much on his words. You knew that he had his days so if anything, you probably just picked a bad one.

So that's why you approach Kyle next as he always kept his cool when things were rough. If you anyone would listen to you, it would be Kyle. So the next day, you head to his office, lunch in hand, excited to catch up with the sergeant.

Seeing his door open, you stop at the entrance and knock on the door frame. He glances up and asks if you needed anything.

"No, just wanted to check up on you. Maybe see if you had any ideas you wanted to work through before the meeting," you chirp, eyes beaming with joy. Kyle usually workshopped his ideas with you before suggesting them to the team. But it's been awhile. He's probably been busy with reports and all that.

"With you? Not really."

"Oh, I just thought, you know since you usually--"

"Yeah, I know, but honestly what's the point? You've never been out in the field so what would you know?" He shrugs with that last phrase.

While he had somewhat of a point, that didn't mean you were completely useless. The last few months should speak on that. You try to push back, but he doesn't bother to look at you. Realizing he wasn't going to listen, you leave.

But, Gaz does listen. He hears how your steps get further and further away until he hears the distinct sound of your office door closing.

Okay, things weren't looking great. But if there was one constant in your life, it was Ghost. Despite his prickly exterior, you knew he was a softie at heart.

So you look for him at the base's gym, instead of his office, knowing that he was probably getting some reps in during his break. And just like you predicted, you found Ghost at the bench press with some rookies that liked to test your boundaries. But with Ghost nearby, you knew you'd be safe. Now with a gift in hand, you stand in front of the Lieutenant and wait for him to finish.

After a few minutes, he sits up and questions your presence, adding that he didn't think pencil pushers like yourself went to the gym. Ouch, that was uncalled for, but this was part of his shtick... right?

"Good to see you too, Ghost" you quip. He doesn't react. You falter a bit, but you quickly regained your composure. This was Ghost who you were talking to, he wouldn't hurt you. "Remember the other day when you were complaining about the calluses on your hands? Well, I got you some new gloves to see if they could help," you proudly announce as you drop the bag in his lap.

He carefully opens the bag and takes out the gloves. This had to do it. He's probably going to say thank you, maybe even ask you how you been. And that's your way in.

Or it would have been if the sound of fabric tearing didn't fill the air. Right before your eyes, Ghost was tearing a glove right through the middle. He stands up and towers over you, throwing your gift to the ground.

"Honestly if you spent even half of this energy in your actual work, maybe you'd be worth keeping," he spits. You hear the nearby rookies snicker. After staring you down for a few more seconds, he lays back down and starts another set. You don't bother saying anything as the lump in your throat threatens to give you away. You walk out of the gym, shame filling your core.

But with tears blurring your eyes, you fail to notice Ghost quickly grabbing the gloves off the floor.

And now with three failed attempts in figuring out what's wrong, Price calls you into his office for a check-in. During these check-ins, he'd ask you if everything was going well with the team. You really wanted to avoid inconveniencing him with such a trivial matter, but the other three left you with no choice.

You walk into his office, determined for answers. Or at least, were until he asked you to close the door behind him, an action only reserved for when the conversation was serious. After shutting the door, you take a seat, nervous as his usually friendly eyes aren't there to greet you.

With a cold gaze, Price looks you over and begins. "Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush here. Your work on the team has been decent at best." Decent? "It's clear that you're more interested in harassing my men than working alongside them." Harassing? "So if you're actually serious about your future here, I'd recommend you get your priorities straight. Do I make myself clear?"

You sat there dumbfounded. How did you get here? Just a few weeks ago, you were confident in your place on the team, and now you're at risk of losing everything you worked for. How? What caused this sudden-- oh.

The night at the bar. The night you can't remember. You probably crossed a line and despite their best efforts to ignore it, they just couldn't. Whatever you did, it must have been bad, because why else would they switch up on you like this? You obviously messed up.

That's why at the next team meeting, you ask Price if you could say a couple of words. Realizing the second chance they were gifting you, you decide to apologize for your inadequacies, for ever making them uncomfortable, and for overall failing them as a teammate when they never once failed you. With that, you promise to do better from here on out.

You leave that meeting determined to prove yourself once again to the team. While Johnny, Kyle, Ghost, and Price leave feeling horrible for making you feel like the monster here.

But that's what best for the team... right?

Word Count: 1371

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

yunho x gn reader + yeosang x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: fluff fluff fluff + alcohol, being drunk and jealousy in yeosang’s (+ possible mistakes since english is not my first language)

a/n: this was supposed to be posted last night but i kinda forgot oopsie

masterlist

YUNHO

another week, another game night at yunho’s place. the only difference is that this time yeosang was there, along with wooyoung and san who invited themselves over. at first, yunho mentally groaned, really looking forward to spend time with you, alone. but then it became bearable, since you decided to stick to his side as you cheered for him while he played against yeosang in mortal kombat. a tough challenge indeed, since both are insane players with a huge armery of combat combinations and special techniques.

wooyoung and san were sitting on the floor and were being as loud as ever, cheering and gasping at the bloody animations. meanwhile, you sat next to yunho, arm wrapped behind his back as you played with his ear. this was really distracting him from the game, since your body was pressing against his side while your soft touches caressed his ear and side of his face. every time you laughed at something wooyoung and san did or say, he would get hit by yeosang’s character due to him losing his focus. how could he though? when your face was so close to his and your laugh was like music to his ears?

despite his lack of attention to the game, yunho’s face remained serious and unreadable. for anyone else in the room, he was getting in a competitive mood. yet, you knew better.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, after he lost the first round. he quickly glanced at you, before returning to face the tv humming and nodding. “just a little distracted, that’s all” he said, quickly pressing on the different buttons on the controller. just in case, you decided to retrieve your hand, maybe the reason why he was distracted was because your touches tickled him. he shot you a quick look almost immediately, not actually wanting you to stop. “don’t stop, keep doing that” he ordered, eyes back on the tv. you chuckled “okay baby”.

unbeknownst to you and yunho, wooyoung and san saw the whole interaction, while yeosang quickly glanced at you as well. they all knew how yunho felt about you, since they’ve been friends and roomates (in yeosang’s case) for a long while now. they noticed the way he would look at you, and how he would light up every time he spot you. they also noticed the way he would always accommodate his schedules to fit yours for game night, no matter the time or place. if they were on tour? no problem, a small online card game becomes a good and entertaining alternative if you weren’t feeling like playing league of legends. they found the whole situation endearing, and, without yunho’s knowledge, they had a bet going on about when he would confess.

“did you just call him baby?” san asked, smirking. yunho immediately shot him a warning glance, the last thing he wanted was for you to stop using the nickname due to their teasing. “you know y/n, some words have heavy meanings” wooyoung added, mischief evident on his face. you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out “are you jealous woo?” you asked, momentarily stopping your touches on yunho’s skin as he simultaneously sighed. “i’m just saying, i don’t call everyone baby” he said in response.

you remained quiet, staring at the tv as the characters still hit each other. yunho, on the other hand, started panicking. what were you thinking? how you were feeling about what wooyoung said? “i like the nickname” he admitted suddenly after a few minutes of silence, except for the aggressive taps on the controller’s buttons. your head turned to him, and he quickly interlocked his eyes with yours, sending you silent but comfortable words in support. somehow, you understood what he said with his eyes: “i don’t mind”. you smiled in return.

“oh i know you like the nickname” wooyoung said, before getting a kick on his back by yeosang’s leg. “don’t distract the player wooyoung! i don’t want to win due to distractions” he scolded, earning ‘oooh’s from san. “he sucks anyway!” wooyoung exclaimed, getting another two kicks, but this time from yunho and you. “ow” he complained, earning a laugh from the dimply man beside him.

after a while, yunho won the second round. “wooyoung distract him again, i take it back” yeosang said, laughing ad the third and last round started. “that’s unfair!” you complained in defense of your best friend. “you heard them” yunho said, still focused on the game.

“how cute of you you to defend your boyfriend” wooyoung teased. yunho felt his blood run cold and visibly tensed, shooting you a look to check your reaction. but instead of feeling awkward like yunho imagined you to be, you started kicking wooyoung with a pillow while exclaiming “you’re being soooo insufferable today!”.

———

yeosang won the fight, ending it at 2-1 and with a pouty yunho in consequence. san exclaimed it was his turn to play against yeosang, so yunho gave him his place as he said he was going to get more drinks from the kitchen. you looked at him disappearing behind the door and sighed. “go help him out y/n” san said. “we all know how he gets when he loses at something”. you nodded in response, standing up from your place and ignoring the way wooyoung said “we are so going to win this bet” as you exited the room.

you found yunho in the kitchen scrolling mindlessly through social media with a beer bottle on his other hand, casually sipping it. he was also leaning against the counter, and you could not deny it: it was definitely a pretty sight.

“are you okay yun?” you asked, taking the bottle from him and sipping it. he chose to ignore the thought of an indirect kiss. instead, he hummed in response, blocking his phone and setting it aside. you kind of stood there, feeling a bit awkward, not really knowing what to say. “i’m sorry if wooyoung’s comment made you uncomfortable” he said, looking out to the window, avoiding your eyes. you stared, confusion evident on your face. “it’s fine, it didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything”.

“one thing though-“ he started saying, bringing back his gaze to you as he stood up straight. “he was right about one thing”. you left the bottle on the kitchen counter next to him, asking what he meant by that. “words do have strong meanings sometimes”

“i want to know what that nickname means to you” he finished, holding your hand in his. you bit your lip, trying to find the words to translate your thoughts, but weren’t able to say anything in response. yunho pulled you closer to him, now leaning on the counter again as you stood in between his legs. “i don’t know, but you’re the only one i call baby” you whispered, looking down, suddenly feeling ashamed of your boldness. he chuckled in response, lifting up your chin to look at him. his face was close to yours, like never before. “i’m glad to hear that y/n, but i still want you to tell me the meaning”

“i don’t know yun” you said, unable to think with his face so close to yours. “you can’t find the words to describe it?” he asked, finger tracing patterns on your arm. you shook your head, not trusting your voice. “what about-“ he lifted his hand to your face “telling me through actions?”

you closed your eyes, unconsciously leaning in and pressing your lips against his. his other hand went to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to his body as you kissed him softly, pouring all the love and devotion for your best friend that you didn’t know you hid deep inside you. you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, as you quickly became addicted to the way his lips felt against yours.

after a while, you broke the kiss, pecking him again when he chased your lips. “yun?” you asked. he hummed, before kissing you again. “what does the nickname mean to you?” you asked.

“hope”.

YEOSANG

“hoping they realize how you feel won’t change anything, you know? i think you should just tell them” san told yeosang as he took a sip from his drink. yeosang sat on the opposite side of the table, his own drink long forgotten due to his long debate with himself about whether to tell you his real feelings or not. san, being as perceptive as he is, noticed something was off since that party a week ago, so he invited yeosang to a small new cafe nearby.

yeosang couldn’t stop thinking about it. he didn’t even need to focus hard enough, he could still feel your lips on his, how your scent invaded all of his senses and how addictive the whole moment was. he was sure the kiss lasted longer than intended too, since he faintly remembers the drunk voices of his friends telling each other to “give them space” or “get a room”. it’s like one of those phrases hit you like a bucket of cold water, because you immediately separated yourself from him as an intense blush covered your cheeks. “i’m sorry” you whispered, avoiding his eyes. despite the loud background, he heard you perfectly and shook his head “it’s okay, really”. he noticed your eyes drifting back to his lips and then quickly to his eyes. what if he kissed you a- “still friends right?” you asked, interrupting his thoughts. he couldn’t find the words to answer, so he nodded slightly. stupid he thought to himself.

after that you kept your distance, even on the car ride back home. you successfully got everyone back to their respective homes safe and sound, so yeosang expected to talk about what happened now that everything quieted down. but he was wrong, again. “are you okay?” he asked, stopping at the red light. you hummed in response. he expected you to elaborate or say something, anything, but you didn’t. so he decided to press further: “are you sure?” your eyes drifted from the road to him, and patted his shoulder lightly “yeah yeo, i’m just tired. i forgot how exhausting everyone is while drunk, specially san and wooyoung” you said. he suspected you were lying, but chose to leave it there. maybe you just needed to process everything, like he did the first time you kissed.

after that, you disappeared. well, not actually, but you stopped replying as often as before. reason why he started feeling anxious, what if he fucked up? maybe he should have reassured you more, or maybe he should have just said no to that kiss, or maybe he-

“earth to yeosang” san said, interrupting his thoughts as he waved his hand in front of his friend’s face. yeosang blinked, nodding “sorry, sorry. what were you saying?”

“i was telling you about hongjoong organizing a small gathering for his birthday, it’s gonna be us and very few other people” san told him, before adding: “one of those is y/n, and they confirmed their assistance already”.

his friend leaned back, smirking at yeosang’s widened eyes. “if i were you i would start thinking of what to say to them”, san said, finishing his drink.

yeosang had a lot to think about indeed.

———

yeosang is a coward, that’s what he is. you stood right next to him, as you always are, yet he couldn’t manage to say the words he has been aching to say. so, he decided to take drastic measures: he decided to drink enough to get courage and drag you out to an empty room in order to confront you.

one shot.

two shots.

three shots.

he lost count after that, mind already going hazy. yeosang looked at you, it seemed like you were also in a similar state, since you giggled at anything and muttered incomprehensible words. his eyes drifted to your lips, plump as he remembered. do they still taste the same as in his memory?

suddenly, he felt a small push from behind him, making him almost spill his drink. “go, tell them” san said, appearing in his field of vision as he patted his shoulder blades. “tell what to who?” you interrupted, smiling widely. yep, clearly drunk as well. yeosang shook his head, before sipping his drink “nothing, don’t worry”.

stupid he thought, once again.

———

“who’s that guy?” yeosang asked hongjoong, pointing to a tall man that was talking to you on the opposite side of the room. you seemed interested in whatever he was saying, which made yeosang’s blood boil.

hongjoong smirked “that’s my brother’s best friend, he’s cool”. yeosang huffed in annoyance, muttering a low “he needs to ‘cool’ off and get away from y/n”. his captain heard it though, deciding to entertain himself for a bit. “he asked me to introduce them to him” hongjoong told yeosang, who quickly turned his head to him with wide eyes. “why?!” he exclaimed. “because he’s interested? yeosangie you’re usually good at reading the room”

his eyes turned back to you. wait, did you two get closer in distance? he watched as that man (yes, he refused to acknowledge him by name, despite hongjoong telling him twice) started playing with the ends of your hair. something he, yeosang, did.

he had enough.

he finished the remains of his drink and tipsily, but surely, walked towards you, who stared at him questioningly once you noticed him. you didn’t even have time to ask him what’s going on, before he grabbed your hand and led you to one of the empty rooms.

“yeosang! i was in the middle of a conversation back there” you exclaimed, confusion all over your face as he shut the door behind him. “why are you talking to him when you should be talking to me?” he asked, facing you.

“i’ve been right next to you the whole night” you said, crossing your arms against your chest. “not the way i want you to” yeosang answered, getting closer. “tell me, is he more interesting than me?”

you shook your head no “of course not”. “then is he more handsome than me?” he asked, stepping closer and making your cheeks flush. “would he kiss you the way i do?” he asked, leaning closer to your face.

you stared into his eyes, despite the obvious drunkness, they remained as gentle as ever. “tell me” he begged, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. he needed to hear it, even if it’s a lie. “n-no” you managed to say, uncrossing your arms as you set your hands on his chest. yeosang opened his eyes, staring at your lips as if he was silently asking for permission. like you could read his mind, you nodded slowly.

so he crashed his lips against yours for a third time, but now it was desperate, hungry. he needed to feel you, taste you, as he pretended you were finally his. he pressed you against the wall while his hands found their way to your lower back, making you slightly arch your back, pressing your front to his body. to his surprise, you kissed back with the same hunger, biting his lip and sliding your tongue on his mouth when he gasped in surprise. he could still feel your favorite drink in your mouth, and he wondered if you could taste his own. he felt intoxicated, addicted to the way your mouth moved against his.

“best friends don’t do this yeo” you managed to say suddenly, in between kisses and small gasps. yeosang hummed in response against your lips, before biting on your lower one “we haven’t been just friends since that first kiss, my love” he muttered, making you smile without separating yourself from him. “i like the sound of that” you said, breaking the kiss but pecking his lips sweetly. “what?” he asked, pecking you back. “you calling me your love”

he chuckled, before lifting his left hand and cupping your cheek. he stared deeply into your eyes with so much devotion, making you suddenly realize that it’s the same gaze as always. gentle, sweet, loving. a look that was only reserved for you, and you only. “that’s because you are, my love” he said, smiling.

you couldn’t help but kiss him again, and again, and again. you felt so loved and cherished. how could you have been so blind?

“y/n” he said suddenly, breaking the kiss and making you frown “don’t address me like that” you said, pouting, making yeosang let out a laugh. “already so demanding” he said “my love, we are both drunk right now, probably not enough to forget about this though. but i still want us to talk about it in the morning” he said, holding both of your hands and bringing them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “i promise” you answered.

once morning had come, already sobered up and fully conscious of your actions, you called yeosang, ready to face your own feelings as you accepted that you are, also, in love with your best friend.

taglist: @yoongles2025

(to be added please let me know)

[rye-bread-soda-iceberg]

I saw some light discourse going around hsrtwt about Ratio being bad/good/morally ambiguous

I'm not gonna comment on that too much cause I wanna talk about smth else but clearly he's a good person, probably one of the nicest people we meet compared to the war criminals and murderers. his major crime is that he's blunt, mean and makes his students cry (which is something about him I don't particularly enjoy for personal reasons, but still)

what I like, something that i feel like people tend to forget, is that he's very openly kind and caring

of course there's the basic stuff, like the fact that he pours his whole heart into making the universe a better place, has eradicated a whole illness called 'the king of illnesses' (so, supposedly, very deadly) and the entire not getting into the genius society because he cares about humanity too much. but also, you know

first of all, he has canonically made various statues depicting himself making a heart with his hands while smiling warmly. I've always found it endearing how he mildly prides himself on 'keeping the world at bay' and just being generally mean while also doing this so casually. I mean, it's a clear message: 'I love you' that's what he's saying, and he's saying it in a silly way

something a bit more hidden is these quotes from hoyolab's post. we all know the 'ignorance is an ailment' quote is directly taken from his character stories, making it canon. that subsequently makes the other two just as canon. obviously it's an official post, but I sometimes see people doubting the validity of these silly little snippets into the hsr universe

I don't particularly know if he is saying those last two quotes in general or to someone/a group of people in particular, but it's like... one of the sweetest (and corniest) things ever, and it makes me giggle a little bit. it almost felt out of character to me the first time I've seen these, but if you think about it, it's always been there

this one is from the valentines day ""event"" on twitter from earlier this year. I like his reaction to the gift for he still has some of his usual, you know, 'I cannot bear to hear such foolish questions'. he's being nice in his own way here, his demeanor is just barely reserved but the sentiment behind his words remains a positive one

another quick thing, though I don't have more examples for this one. he's always going on about how you should always consider whether the question you're about to ask already has an answer (so encouraging you to think for yourself) but he's still Always offering to help. in this and, if I remember correctly, in the mail description you get when you used to receive him for free he's making it clear that he's willing to help you discuss things for you to understand them better and will answer any question as long as it's not a 'stupid' one. he is a teacher, after all. the biggest thing about him is that he wants people to do better. other than this, despite his slight reluctance to help others himself, he does say in his character trailer that sometimes a little encouragement is required

and he does encourage people openly when they do good! no 'I suppose this is acceptable' nor 'I guess you did good'. when someone or something impresses him, he genuinely expresses it. I like to point this out because I see so many people say he's self absorbed or puts himself above others, when that is simply not true. which, I mean, can also be seen in his small little interactions with Herta, Ruan Mei and Screwllum (he literally praises them)

then he also says this a couple times. I don't exactly know what he considers courtesy or discourtesy, but it's clear that at least not all his blunt or mean words are meant to offend. this is something I'd love to look further into, but for now simply want to put here with the rest cause it's an interesting thing about him. he is already described as elegant, which implies a certain level of basic courtesy and politeness when interacting with others, though this just slightly crashes with his 'rude' demeanor

supposedly, you could make the argument that while he canonically realizes how non-endearing he can be (knows his own shortcomings, one of the exact traits he praises) perhaps he actively struggles with coming off as nice. and seeing all I've pointed out so far, maybe all those instances of him being nice are how he'd prefer to come off as (some times). that is unless I missed some bits of canon dialogue where it's implied otherwise

this isn't that detailed or well made of a post, nor the first time someone has pointed out this stuff. in fact I reblogged an incredibly good, lengthy post some time ago that talks more in depth about how nice/kind of a person Veritas Ratio really is

I simply cannot stand when he is described as cold, uncaring, selfish, self-centered or someone incapable of being gentle and loving. and it's not nearly as subtle as people seem to think it is

[dduane]

Hi, Diane, I have a technical writing question for you: How do you decide how long a chapter is?

I've noticed a trend among mass market books of authors adopting the James Patterson style of chapters lasting a page & a half to three pages, but sometimes not even half a page. It's infuriating, especially when action on a single scene is split amongst them. I grew up learning that a chapter is an association of scenes, & that breaks were left for major scene and/or expository changes. If a book had 30 chapters, it'd be 400 pages long. Now I have 215-pages novels with 45 chapters!

You've always delivered a really good, fairly even, page & word per chapter count. So what's your thoughts on how it should be defined, & perhaps any on this metastasizing trend?

I haven't been entirely clear about what to do about this since I first started seeing this divergence of chapter lengths happening. (And bear in mind, this is a wide spectrum to be dealing with. There are books of Terry Pratchett's that have no clearly defined chapter breaks at all.)

My own take on it in the short term has varied depending on what book I was writing, and what rhythm the interactions among the characters were expressing. Sometimes written character business can happen very quickly, over a few pages: sometimes it has to happen more slowly, as it does among real people—a series of interactions, a pause, then further ripening developments and interactions.

Patterson is well known (I think) for having a house style... because I'm sure it'll have been a good while since he wrote anything but the high points of any given book himself. It wouldn't surprise me at all if the house style reinforces his own preferences, which would seem to be for very short interactions... that "short attention span" we've seen being discussed for so long, and getting shorter and shorter all the time.

I think it's safe to say I refuse to go that road. I want to allow readers time to sit in the characters' business (as it were) and think about what might happen next. I'm not afraid to allow the readership time to speculate about what might be about to occur before the next sequence of events sets in.

Is Patterson afraid to allow this? (sigh) I may have been a psych nurse, but I decline to attempt to read another writer's mind: that's a sure path to a headache. Is it possible that writers are as susceptible as their readers to that short-attention-span problem... and unwilling to attempt to slow it down for fear of being seen as somehow "behind the times?"

Damned if I know. Again, I decline to judge. But I sure as hell know how I'll behave on my own ground.

...Let me suggest a possibility to you, looking forward. Patterson's rhythms have all become the same because his (for certain values of "his") books have all become the same. ...And who's to blame for that? Readers are well known, in the industry, for wanting to read the same thing again and again, just a little bit different. That's not the readers' fault any more. They've been trained to it. And the market reflects their training.

You, meanwhile, get to set your own rhythms, and (ideally) allow the reader to settle into them, if they find other aspects of your voice congenial. Just because the Patterson modality seems to be all over the place at the moment, doesn't mean that it will continue to be. The market, gods help us, is all about the New. Someday (gasp) Patterson will be Old. And then what? Will slow slowly start to become cool? Tough to tell.

For myself, I write in a lot of different modes (gods help me, right now over on Bluesky we're discussing the possibility of a paranormal travel agency German [or maybe Swiss] Christmas market cozy murder mystery); and every single one of them requires a different rhythm according to the subject matter, the thought processes of the characters, the rhythm of the story itself and of the characters making their way through it, the way the action expresses itself throughout this story, etc etc. I can't imagine what doing it the same way all the time, regardless of the story's and the characters' imperatives, would feel like. Deadening, at the very least. And isn't writing about being, and becoming, more alive, not less??

If I've got a message, it's this: Let Patterson go his own way (for whatever values of "his"). None of us are going to be him, any time soon.*

I think you should write in the rhythm, and with the chapter breaks, that best suit the story you're telling. If some of your readers don't like those... fine. Others will. Whether they like to hear it or not—and some of them won't—like books, readers too are ephemera: they come and go. Your job is to be faithful to the story as you conceive it, and the rhythms and chapter breaks you feel it needs. The story has no one else to depend on.

So: get busy being God in your own creative universe, and ignore what other gods are doing in theirs.

HTH!

ETA: Historically I've had a tendency to use the "shopping list" method described over here for my outlining, and that's routinely determined chapter lengths to some extent. (i.e., if there were ten items on the list, and [thereafter] ten chapters in a 100K-word book, then that means 10K chapters.)

...Except when I feel a chapter needs to be subdivided, or combined with another one and then the whole thing chopped into three. Or when more entries get added to the master list. I look to see how a chapter "feels" when weighed in the hand of the mind: too long? too heavy? too short? too rushed?—and then adjust its length accordingly.

So briefly: my own basic rules are guidelines, to be broken when necessary. Yours should be, too. Only experience will teach you when this is necessary. But that's just another part of the Craft. "We learn by doing..." :)

*Though do we want to be?

[bucksangel]

milk and sugar

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au part two

word count: 5.1k

summary: “Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one. And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “no.” or - it’s your first date with your alphas.

warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, reader has insecurities, steve and bucky are adorable and caring, steve is very nervous bc he’s a romantic, like it’s almost unbearable how much of a pure puppy he is, bucky is extremely fond and a little teasing (bc of course he is), omegaverse, kissing, there are bits where it’s just steve and bucky

a/n: this fic doesn’t contain smut, however, due to the nature of my blog this is strictly 18+

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

‘Good morning, darling.’

That’s the text you received from Bucky at nine that morning - in the group chat he’d made with Steve and you. And while you normally sleep in on Sundays since your studio is closed, you’d woken up early - seven to be exact -  due to the anxiety you’ve been feeling ever since your art class ended yesterday.

Truthfully, you didn’t really sleep well anyway. Going on a date with not just one, but two Alphas at the same time has you on edge - though, not in a bad way. No, not at all. These are the good kinds of nerves, the exciting kind.

Well, okay, not all of your nerves are positive. Being naturally shy and reserved has caused you to overthink every single interaction you’ve had with the Alphas, both together and separately. And now that you’re going on this date, you can’t help the way your insecurities come creeping in faster and faster as it gets closer.

Because what if they decide they don’t like you after they actually get the chance to know you? What if they don’t even pay much attention to you and treat this as a date with just them since that must be what they’re more used to? What if you say or do something wrong and they get scared away?

Now, logically, you know those first two outcomes are absurd. Over the past few weeks, they’ve each shown extreme interest in getting to know you, they show how much care they have for you, and oh boy does that knowledge make your heart flutter. It makes you feel good, really good about yourself.

But that last point? Well, that is a big insecurity of yours. As a child, you weren’t that open and didn’t have many friends. And it was hard to make new ones when you would always stutter and trip over yourself, causing many of the kids you’d gone to school with to laugh at you. You were so shy, always the shortest kid in your class which made you an easy target for bullying, especially since you couldn’t hold a conversation well and you’d constantly accidentally bump into someone. It’s honestly a surprise that Tori had stuck around this long.

And, to be completely honest, you think you could deal with them maybe not finding you as interesting as they probably thought, maybe even them telling you that it just wouldn’t work out. Yes, it would hurt for a while, but you would deal with it. However, you absolutely could not live with the Alphas finding you annoying. Because this whole thing already feels like a fever dream, and if you were to fuck it up by doing or saying something embarrassing it would only serve as proof that you aren’t fit for Alphas like them.

It’s nine-fifteen when you respond with ‘good morning :)’

And not even a minute later, Steve texts back. ‘how are you feeling about today?’

Well, isn’t that a good question? Because you want nothing more than to go on this date, you want this to work out so badly that you feel like your heart might burst out of your chest. But, again, those fucking insecurities are messing with your mind.

It’s maybe a few minutes later when you reply with ‘Feeling okay, you guys?’

A bubble pops up at the bottom of the text thread, Bucky typing for a good thirty seconds before it disappears. And it stays like that for another full minute, your heart hammering in your chest as your anxieties are jumping to the worst possible outcome. What if they cancel? What if they-

Your phone screen comes to life when Steve calls you. He’s calling you. And for a moment you want to let it go to voicemail, you don’t want them to hear how nervous you are. But you also don’t want them to think you’re ignoring them, so you answer with a timid, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey,” Steve says calmly, his smooth voice doing a good job of soothing some of your worries.

“Hi!” You hear Bucky yell in the background, causing you to giggle.

“Hi, guys.”

You hear a thud in the background before Bucky yells “Put her on speaker, punk!” And then you can hear both of them clearly, Steve laughing as Bucky huffs in what you assume is a fake annoyance.

“So, uh, I’m just wondering. Um, where are we going today?” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so awkward, for tripping over your words while talking to the two most handsome Alphas you’ve ever met.

“That’s a surprise, honey,” Steve says, the smile on his face is evident in his tone. “Just wear something comfortable.”

“And warm!” Bucky adds, coming closer to the phone. “We don’t need you getting cold, okay?”

The hint of authority in his voice makes your heartbeat pick up speed and the care that’s so evident in just the way he speaks kind of makes you want to cry a little. When was the last time any potential partner showed even these small acts of concern for your well-being? Too long.

“Yes, sir,” You joke, having to bite your lip to keep your smile from widening even further when both Alphas laugh. Butterflies are swirling in your stomach, forming a tornado of anticipation and nerves for the day’s festivities.

“Alright,” Steve says with a hint of laughter. “We’ll let you go get ready and we’ll pick you up in two hours, okay?”

Two hours? That seems like too long yet not long enough. You’ve already showered, all you really need to do is find something to wear and then fix your hair - maybe throw on some mascara. But, still. Two hours seems like the perfect amount of time to have a full-on breakdown over this date. But at least that should also give you some time to recover from said breakdown.

“Yeah, that works!” Internally, you cringe at how eager you sound. Because even though you’re nervous beyond belief, and a tiny part of you wants to cancel the date out of fear of anything embarrassing happening, you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let these two slip through your fingers without giving it a fighting chance. 

“Great,” Bucky says, clearly smiling. “Just send us your address and we’ll be there.”

Once you bid your goodbyes to each other you make sure to send them your address before deciding to freak out over what to wear. Luckily for you, and as though the universe knows you need the help, your doorbell rings soon after. Confused as to who would be at your door this early, you make your way to the door, and when you open it you see Tori standing on the other side with a wide smile.

“Alright, girl,” She says happily, ignoring the incredulous look on your face as she pushes past you to walk into your apartment. “We have to get you ready, where are they taking you?”

“Hello to you too, Tori,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes as you close the door.

“Hey, babe!” Tori grabs your wrist and all but yanks you towards your room, not really caring about the fact that you’re nearly tripping over yourself in an effort to keep up. When you both get to your room she lets go of your arm and heads for your closet.

“So, where are you guys going?”

“I don’t know, they just said to dress warm and comfortable.” Your shoulders shrug, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. You’re not too sure what exactly to wear based on those being the only two requests. Sure, you have plenty of sweaters and jackets and scarves - it’s New York after all - but you don’t know what will impress the Alphas.

You want to impress them so badly. You don’t want them to regret asking you out, and while clothing choices aren’t a ‘make or break’ type of thing it’s still important to you that you look the best you possibly can. After all, anyone who’s seen Steve and Bucky in person would agree that they’re most definitely the two most handsome men to ever exist.

Something soft hitting you in the face knocks you out of your thoughts.

“Hey!” You yelp, looking at the ground to see the thing that hit you - your light brown sweater with a cute graphic of a pumpkin patch on the front. Seconds later, a pair of leggings hit your chest. “Tori!”

Tori simply laughs, then heads to your shoe rack next to the closet door.

“How do you know this will be good for the date?” You ask as you pick up the sweater to inspect it as though you haven’t worn it hundreds of times. But, again, today needs to go perfectly so any stains you might’ve missed would not go down well with you.

“I don’t,” She admits with a shrug of her shoulders. “But that sweater accentuates your boobs and the leggings make your ass look great.”

Your whole body goes hot, the implication of them looking at those parts of your body doesn’t make you shrink away like it normally would, though you can barely stop your insecurities about your body from throwing the items to the side and picking something else to prevent that from happening.

“I-I don’t know, Tori…” You sigh, going over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. “What if they don’t like it? I mean, they’re-”

“Stop it,” Tori says forcefully, walking over to stand in front of you. “You’re beautiful and kind and wonderful and they’re going to love you. And if they don’t, then that’s not your fault. As long as you give it your all, everything will be fine.”

Coming closer, she places her hands on your shoulders so she can shake you a little bit. “I love you, girl. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. And it seems like they make you happy, but you make them happy too. I’ve seen it in the way they look at you, how they talk to you. It’s going to be fine, babe. I promise.”

After a long pause where you think over her words, you decide that she’s right - at least about your feelings. You like them so fucking much, so it wouldn’t be fair to them or yourself if you didn’t try your best.

“Okay… Okay, then. Let’s get me ready.”

And with that, Tori smiles brightly, leaning down to squeeze you in a tight hug before releasing you.

____________

It’s a few minutes before eleven when Bucky and Steve park out front of your apartment building. Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin, Bucky even had to convince his mate that he should drive to pick you up since Steve could barely keep his knees from bouncing.

“Baby,” Bucky says, shutting off the engine and twisting in his seat to face Steve. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to just be ourselves and treat her like she deserves, there’s no way she’s going to not like us.”

Steve nods, though he doesn’t look super convinced. It’s clear from how he spent fifteen minutes this morning in the flower shop picking out the perfect bouquet for you that he really, really wants this to work. And even though he doesn’t show it, Bucky knows Steve would be heartbroken if it didn’t. His mate’s always been a softie, and there’s something about you that makes him feel different - better than any other omega ever could.

Bucky knows exactly how he feels. Because, although he’s not as outwardly anxious, he just knows that you’re perfect for them, and he wants to do everything he can to make you see that they can take care of you, they can protect and love you. Your smile and sweet giggle haunt his dreams, his nightmares have long been replaced with his memories of him and Steve - and now you. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you and his Alpha, to cuddle with you two in your nest as you all trade kisses and talk about anything and everything.

“You’re sure?” Steve asks with a timid voice, fiddling with the flowers in his lap. “I - we really like her.”

Bucky sighs, then reaches over the console to place his hand on the back of his mate's neck in a comforting manner. And even though it’s uncomfortable, Bucky leans over and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.

“I’m sure, Stevie.”

Steve sighs too, leaning forward to kiss Bucky again before pulling back.

“Okay, Buck.”

With that, they both share a small smile and then get out of the car. It’s about a minute-long elevator ride up to your floor, Bucky holding his mate’s free hand the entire way and sending him feelings of calmness through their bond. It works until they get to your front door because now Steve is practically fumbling with the flowers as he figures out the best way to hold them while Bucky knocks.

It’s about a minute later when the door swings open, but it’s not you. It’s Tori with a wide, knowing smirk on her face.

“Hello, boys,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Those for her?” She nods towards the sunflowers and daisies Steve is holding.

“They are,” Bucky says with a smile of his own. Glancing at Steve to see him nod. “Is she ready?”

“Yes!” You say, quickly running up behind Tori to gently push her to the side and give her a side glare. You’re fiddling with your clothes, tugging at the bottom of the sweater in order to smooth out the fabric.

However, in the Alphas’ eyes, there’s no need for you to do so. Through their bond both of them feel the other go kind of dumb - you always look pretty but today’s outfit just hits them differently. Your eyeliner makes the color of your eyes pop, and the shiny lipgloss makes your lips nearly impossible to not kiss.

They don’t, though. Not yet. The last thing either of them wants to do is make you uncomfortable, especially with Tori standing behind you. So, instead, Bucky smiles and elbows Steve to get him out of his trance.

“Hello, honey,” Bucky says, his smile turning into a smirk when you fail to suppress a squeak.

“H-hi, guys,” You say nervously with a small smile. “Are those for me?” You ask when you notice the flowers in Steve’s hand.

“Oh, um, yes,” Steve stutters ever so slightly, reaching out to hand you the bouquet. “You once said you love Sunflowers.”

____________

“You once said you love Sunflowers.”

Something about this gesture makes you want to tear up. Flowers may not be a big deal to some people, but they mean everything to you. Receiving gifts from partners has been rare for you, so the beauty of the petals and knowing that they’re for you just makes you preen a little bit.

“I do,” You say softly, almost like you can’t believe he remembered. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Really.”

“Just like you,” Steve blurts out before a redness covers his cheeks.

And you absolutely cannot be blamed for the embarrassing squeak you let out. You try being called beautiful by Steve fucking Rogers and not want to bury your face in his neck to inhale his scent.

“Th-thank you,” You say with a giggle, handing the flowers to Tori and giving her a grateful smile as she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You guys have fun,” She teases, waving you off with a smile. “Treat her well or you’ll have hell to pay.”

“Of course,” Bucky says with an assuring nod. “Wouldn’t treat her with anything but care.” He says this while looking at you though, the twinkle in his eyes making you want to bare your neck to him.

When the door closes behind you, you step closer to the Alphas.

“Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring, though clearly a little anxious. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one.

And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “No.” How can you be nervous now when the feeling of the men’s warm hands on you and their clear concern for your wellbeing makes your heartbeat quicken in anticipation?

“Let’s go?” You ask, face growing warm in slight embarrassment for your enthusiasm.

“Let’s go,” Both Alphas say in unison. And then all of you are off to the truck - a very nicely kept, sleek black truck. Steve opens the back door for you before, to your surprise, sliding in next to you.

“We agreed he could sit in the back with you on the way there as long as I could sit next to you on our way back,” Bucky pipes up at your questioning glance.

Feelings of warmth fill your entire being, and you already know that today is going to be the most fun you’ve had in a while.

____________

It’s about a thirty-five-minute drive before you finally arrive at a park - a beautiful stretch of the greenest grass you’ve ever seen with orange and red-leafed trees surrounding two sides of it. It’s big, but if you look close enough you can make out a trail off to the left. That half hour was, surprisingly to you, filled with pleasant conversation. Now, your previous interactions with the men proved that they were wonderful company, but you’re surprised that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. Everything was moving smoothly, there wasn’t even a single moment of awkward silence.

“We’re here,” Bucky says, pulling into a free parking spot closest to the entrance of the trail. Steve opens the door as Bucky gets out as well and goes around to the back of the truck. And Steve, ever the gentleman, holds your hand as he helps you climb out of the backseat, only letting go when you begin smoothing out your clothes.

“Are we ready?” Bucky appears next to you holding a large blanket and a stereotypical wicker basket.

A small smile forms on your face, and your heartbeat increases ever so slightly. How are they so fucking sweet?

“Yes!” Immediately, your face goes hot, self-conscious of your enthusiasm. But the Alphas don’t seem to mind, in fact, Steve takes the blanket from under Bucky’s arm and tucks it under his own, then grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together.

“Let’s go then,” Steve says, smiling softly down at you.

With that, the three of you head off to the trail, walking under colorful oak trees that flank both sides of the dirt path. A comfortable silence falls over all of you, only the sounds of birds chirping filling the air. You walk for a few minutes, the leaves crunching under your feet as you take in the beauty surrounding you, your eyes wide with wonder.

The environment is comforting, calm, puts you at ease in a way you don’t normally experience. It’s freeing to feel so content - so happy. It takes about five minutes before you come upon a set of wooden stairs leading down to the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen. The water is nearly clear, the colorful trees reflecting over the surface, and even though it’s a clear day out, you can’t help but notice the golden hue filling the air. You don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking until Steve tugs on your hand.

“Do you like it?” He asks, almost nervous as he waits for your reaction.

“I…” You trail off, tears filling your eyes. This whole thing is just - just perfect. “I love it,” you say as you look at Steve, a wide smile spreading across your face. And you look at Bucky when you say, “It’s perfect.”

____________

“It’s perfect.”

Bucky can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. They’d both wracked their brains trying to figure out where to take you, what to do. They want to wow you, to show you that they can - and hopefully will get the chance to provide for you, they can make you happy. You’ll never go without, if you want something, they will figure out a way to get it.

“Good,” Steve says softly, smiling down at you before looking up at Bucky and nodding his head.

With that, the three of you make your way down the stairs, Steve holding on to your hand tightly to make sure you don’t fall, and Bucky places his free hand on your back. He can hear how your heartbeat speeds up when he does so and tries so hard not to puff out his chest when you glance up at him through your eyelashes coyly.

Once you’re down by the lake, the men lead you to a large oak tree merely ten or so feet from the edge. Steve is quick to unfold the blanket and spread it out under the tree - large enough to probably cover an entire California King bed. Bucky then places the basket down as his mate takes your hand and helps you sit near the edge of the blanket leaving enough space for the men to sit on either side of you.

The Alphas quickly open the basket and pull out containers of food, opening the lids and placing them in front of you. When they finally sit down - obviously with you in the middle - Bucky notices how wide your eyes are, how you seem transfixed on the array of fruits and sandwiches and cake. It’s when Bucky pulls out the jug of homemade lemonade that you choke back a cry.

“Honey?” Steve asks, turning his body to face you with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Bucky places a hand on your back, sweeping it around to hold your waist. And can you really blame him if his whole body goes hot when you lean into his side and turn your face so it’s halfway buried in his neck?

It takes a few seconds but you’re finally able to gather yourself and pull away.

“You guys are just… I can’t believe it.”

“What can’t you believe, sweetheart?” Steve scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your head to smooth out your hair, and unconsciously turns your head so he can look directly at you. “Tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

____________

You want to scream. You want to yell until your voice gives out. It’s nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Them preparing food - by hand - and bringing you to this beautiful spot might just be a normal thing for most people, but considering you’ve hardly ever been shown this much affection and thoughtfulness. Shaking your head, you look away, unable to withstand the Alpha's intense gaze.

“It’s nothing,” You mumble, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not, honey,” Bucky says, giving your waist an affectionate squeeze. “If you’re upset, we want you to tell us.”

“I’m not! I promise!” You assure them, hesitantly reaching both of your hands out to place them on the Alpha’s legs. “I guess I just… I’ve just never been shown this much… care?” It’s phrased as a question, because you’re unsure if that was the right word to use, but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

“I know it may not seem like a lot,” You continue, taking a deep breath before looking up at Steve, and then Bucky. “But this means the world to me. You guys are just so sweet and thoughtful and I’m not really sure what to do, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, let alone two people.”

Both of the men sigh, and you can almost taste the scent of disappointment wafting off of them. Suddenly your nerves spike, did you say something wrong?

You must have said that out loud because Bucky starts shaking his head. “No, no darling. You didn’t say anything wrong, I promise.”

“We’re just… I guess we’re disappointed that you consider this the height of romance because this is the bare minimum. You should be used to this, you should be loved and worshipped because that’s what you deserve, nothing less. And it’s not your fault, it’s every other person’s fault for not treating you like the perfect Omega you are.” Steve sounds upset, and your heartbeat increases to a degree that you’d think you were having a panic attack if it weren’t for how damn happy you are.

For a moment, you’re unsure as to what to say, it’s just baffling to you that one person, let alone two, can make you feel this way, this joyous and carefree. But luckily Bucky speaks up so you don’t have to.

“And we’d love to have the chance to do that for you,” He says softly, picking up your hand to cradle it in his own so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. And when you stare up into his eyes, you can’t help but gasp at how loving his gaze is. “Will you give us that chance?”

“Yes.” And this time, you’re not embarrassed by how quickly your answer was to come. How can you be when both men sigh in relief and lean into your body so they can wrap you in their arms? It’s warm and comforting, filling you with happiness and care for these men.

When they lean back you really can’t be blamed for the way your gaze finds Steve’s, then drops down to his lips momentarily. At this, you’re a little flustered, suddenly overcome with the want to feel how soft they are.

Steve seems to read your mind because he places his hand on the back of your neck and forces you to hold his gaze.

“Can I kiss you, honey?”

“Please,” You whine, staying in place as the Alpha leans down slowly. Your eyes close when he gets close enough that you can feel his breaths against your mouth. And for a moment, neither of you moves, and your nerves climb higher and higher as the seconds tick by.

You’re about to speak when he finally, finally kisses you. At first, it’s just a simple peck, a chaste kiss on your lips, and then he pulls back by merely a millimeter. It’s you who leans forward to press your lips together again, and you let him lead as you lose yourself in the kiss. Though, it’s over far too soon for your liking by a soft groan.

Pulling away, both you and Steve turn to look at Bucky, who is now sporting a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” He mumbles with a flushed face. “I just… I love seeing you two together. I love us all being together and having the two people I care about more than anything sharing your feelings. I know it’s-”

“Sweet,” You interrupt him, turning your body so you can face him better and slip your hand out of his. Placing it on his cheek, you smile when he nuzzles into your palm and gives it a little kiss. “I think it’s sweet, Bucky.”

“Can I kiss you too?” He whispers hopefully, smiling when you nod. Unlike his mate, Bucky doesn’t waste any time capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. It’s clear he’s trying to hold back, and something in you just can’t help but feel wanted, desired. This kiss lasts a little longer, and although you can feel Steve’s gaze on you, you’re not in the least bit self-conscious. You know they wouldn’t lie to you, so you find comfort in knowing that you can show affection to both men without either getting upset or jealous.

When you do finally pull away, you can’t help but lean into Bucky’s chest, reaching behind you to grab Steve’s hand.

“I really like you guys,” You mumble into the Alpha’s chest.

“We really like you too,” They say in unison, causing you to smile.

With that, everything seems to fall into place, the men divvy up the food - giving you most of it - and you all eat in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Once the food is eaten, Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to look up at him.

“Come here,” He says with a smile, guiding you to sit sideways on his lap, facing Steve. And there is absolutely no way in hell you could contain the squeak forcing its way out of your mouth. “Is this okay?” He asks as Steve scoots closer to sit right next to Bucky, picking up your legs and resing them in his lap.

You’ve never nodded faster in your life. You’re nervous, sure, but the utter happiness you’re feeling far outweighs it. That happiness only grows when Bucky nods to his mate, and you watch as the other man picks up the container with the cake. Your eyes widen when Steve picks up a fork and takes a small bit out of one of the slices, carefully leading it up to your mouth where you automatically open it.

Slowly, he slides the fork out, allowing you to chew the cake with a pleased smile on his face. It goes on like this until the slice is completely gone, with Bucky pressing kisses to your temple occasionally and bathing you in his warmth. It makes you preen having these Alphas take care of you like this, providing for you.

You’re content to stay here forever, wrapped up in their light, and by the time you’re done eating completely, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, a yawn forcing your mouth wide open.

“I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, a little embarrassed by how tired you’ve become now that your stomach is full and you’re comfortably resting against Bucky’s chest.

“Don’t be, honey,” Steve says, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “You can nap if you want, we’ll be right here when you wake up.”

A smile spreads across your face, and you instinctively bury your head into Bucky’s chest and reach out so you can hold onto Steve’s hands. “Are you sure?” You ask, peeking an eye open so you can look up at the blonde Alpha.

He smiles as he nods, pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “Go to sleep, pretty girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to float off into dreamland, and the last thing you hear is, “I told you she’s perfect for us.”

tagging: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @meteorshowercoffee / @wandaneedstherapy / @buckysbarne / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @p1ut0smoon / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @clownsbf / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @sweater-bee / @stuckysbike / @lovelylittleleigh / @buckyshbic / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @emeraldfairy23 / @lethargicluv / @kinsssss / @perfectlyboring / @glistenuplove / @monicachic13 / @bbellen1411 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @ladyravenclaw / @sadsadbabygirlrob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @sweetmoonlove0214 / @yesprettypleasesir / @duckies16 / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @xonickibaby / @matchat3a / @hereticdance / @animegirlgeeky / @rippedpiece

[the-xolotl]

Rising With the Sun

Alastor x fem!Reader

ᯓღ Small gift for @denki-69 ~

ᯓღ a/n: pulled this out of my ass in the first 30 minutes of me being awake (so like an hour ago). enjoy my somno thoughts.

SUMMARY: Alastor finds himself in a predicament and dilema about having morning wood right next to you. But things work out in his favor.

ᯓღ CW: somnophilia, thigh fucking, morning sex, cnc, established relationship, no use of y/n.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you⟢

Alastor himself is not a very sexual being. Sure, as a sinner of flesh and blood he’s still susceptible to carnal desires and temptation, he still has his needs, but those seem to only make themselves known during his ruts or once in a blue moon any other day of year. However, ever since he had began to date you it seems as if finally having someone to share a bed with had kick started a drive he didn’t think he had. Which lead to mornings like this more and more often; waking up with a raging hard on, especially after having dreamt of you being split on his cock. You had become his every waking and sleeping thought, you plague his mine day in and day out, you have become the object of all his desires.

It’s still just past twilight, Alastor tossed and turned a little on the bed even as he attempted to not wake you up out of curtesy. It’s hard, he’s hard. The tent in his sleeping trousers is so bad this morning in particular it had bother him enough to wake him up from slumber, and he was already humping your ass when he had. He’s currently in a struggle of not letting such salacious desires dictate his action. He had more decorum than that, he’s a more composed man than stooping to the level of using his sleeping lover for his own selfish, debauched needs.

However, it is your fault even if unintentional— in his mind at least— for his quite large predicament. But wanking off next to your sleeping body also felt too dirty. He struggled with himself as he lays on his back burning holes on to the ceiling trying to figure out what to do. Release by his own hand is no longer satisfactory but he doesn’t want to wake you up, on the other hand you’re quite literally right there. He groans softly to himself, why had you made him into this creature, how have you managed to turn him into this beast. He misses the warmth of your ass against him and his resolve is cracking.

Slowly, he shifts his position while carefully and ever so gently turning you over on your stomach and removing the blanket from you entirely. He panic froze for a split second when you stirred in your sleep, seeing as you didn’t wake up he continued on to undo his sleep trousers and pulling himself out. Hard, warm erection bumped against your still clothed cheeks, he let out a low hiss as the moment. He slowly thrusted his needy length between your cheeks, pressing down getting friction from the fabric. He felt like a goddamn animal but wouldn’t— couldn’t— deny how good it felt.

The demon’s moans are low and grumbly, his radio filter still off, he gets lost in the steady rhythm of his hips against yours even going as far as putting his cock between your plush thighs and using them as a means to make up for not being inside your tight heat.

But the pleasure didn’t last very long. He had been so distracted in chasing his own release with eyes closed and head hanging low that he didn’t realize the hand moving under him until it wrapped itself around his throbbing cock. Alastor is horrified at the realization he’d woken you up and is caught red-handed in the compromising position of using your body for himself in a vulnerable state. Shame and embarrassment wash over his very soul, but that doesn’t last very long either.

He must have shown it on his face because Alastor’s eyes flew open at the sound of a giggle and the feeling of delicate fingers languidly pumping his erection. “Do you need help, deerling?” your voice is still heavy with sleep but there’s lust swimming in your eyes and the smirk tugging the corner of your lips is mischievous, “My body is yours to use as you please,” you whisper, your hand leaves his cock in favor of using both to shove your bottoms down enough to reveal your already dripping pussy. He could see the glistening of your folds in the dim light and his cock twitched.

“Do whatever you want, I’m still sleepy,” is all you said before getting comfortable again and closing your eyes to possibly fall back asleep. Alastor is dumbfounded for a moment, in all honesty you had left him at 0. But he also won’t squander such an opportunity. Teasingly he rubs his redden tip along your slick folds catching your dripping juices to spread them over himself. He let out a low, reverberating growl. You felt so fucking delicious, how did every time manage to feel better than the last?

He can’t be bothered with prep but is carefully sinking into your searing heat in no time. His length stretching you open inch by inch and yet you have gone back into a deep sleep. Alastor is so overtaken by the pleasure he’s hunching over your sleeping form gripping the sheets for dear life, talons slightly ripping the sheets. Moans and groans begin to slip from him, he’s moving your shorts a bit further down and spreading your legs to better accommodate him because he wants as much of his cock inside you— he needs his whole weeping erection inside you.

The radio demon has to fight to keep his noises of pleasure to a minimum but it’s hard when you got his thick length in such a vice grip and you’re simply overflowing with wetness between your legs. His head bows down to meet your back, his forehead pressing between your shoulder blades as his arm wraps around your middle lifting you up from the bed to better fuck into your sleeping body. He’s panting like a goddamn animal in heat, he’s fucking you so gently even if he is pulling out to the tip and then sinking back in but it’s too much. He’s over sensitive in the morning and the fact that you’re unconscious while he’s using you as his personal fleshlight has his cock twitching and throbbing. He’s embarrassed to say he won’t last very long anymore. His impending orgasm is just over the horizon, if the size of the formed knot is anything to go by.

He’s whispering sweet nothings and indiscernible nonsense into the flesh of your back as he punches his knot inside you, spilling hot cum into your womb, even letting out a few whimpers of your name like a prayer. This did wake you up again with a loud moan and pushing your hips harder against him to instinctively milk him. You were still half asleep but that doesn’t mean you don’t want cock. He collapses on top of you as you grind back into him, still heavy with sleep but needy for your boyfriend’s massive cock.

“Good morning, sweetness, did you have fun having me for breakfast?” you twisted your head around to plant soft pecks on his cheek with a cheeky grin.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[mizading]

Please could we get jealous/possessive headcanons for gojo geto and nanami <333

JJK Jealousy/Possessive Headcanons

{ Characters} Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Choso

{ Warnings } Possessive behavior, jealousy, yelling, needy behavior, etc. 

{ A/N } I usually don’t accept anonymous requests, but I decided to make an exception this time (wink). I couldn’t help but include Choso after last week’s episode. 

Nanami

Nanami won’t reveal any type of emotion until you two get home. He’s so used to remaining professional that hiding his feelings aren’t a task anymore.

Nanami is a reserved man; he would never let his jealousy show in public.

The most that Nanami will do is snake is arm around your waist. It looks innocent enough, but nobody can feel how tight his fingers grip your waist.

This is your only warning. Whatever it is that you’re doing to upset Nanami, stop.

Don’t expect Nanami to speak to you once you get home. Ignoring you is Nanami’s only way of keeping himself from lashing out.

Nanami sometimes doesn’t have the strength to simply ignore you, resulting in him lashing out. You can’t take him seriously when he looks so damn good frustrated and yelling.

The way that his dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows with a few buttons opened and his tie loosened drives you crazy. Seeing him in such a state makes you not want to talk to another man again.

It doesn’t take long for Nanami to calm down. He’ll eventually break down and embrace you, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. Skin-to-skin contact with you seems to calm his nerves and remind him that you’re all his.

Nanami will always apologize profusely for yelling at you. He genuinely hates it when he gets that worked up, but he can’t control it sometimes. Everything will be made up in whatever way you'd like.

If you name it, he’ll do it. Nanami is practically on his knees for you at all times. His world revolves around you; it’s only fair that he shows it.

Gojo

Gojo gets jealous extremely easily, and he knows it. Gojo won’t ever admit that it’s a problem, though; it’s his way of showing that he cares, after all.

Almost everything that involves another guy sets Gojo off. Conversations, stares, touches—all of it makes his blood boil. He doesn’t bother hiding any of it either.

Gojo takes joy in scaring guys off when he’s around with you. One look from Gojo’s icy blue eyes is more than enough to send any man into their grave.

The only time interactions with other males are somewhat acceptable is when Gojo is with you to “monitor” the situation. Let's not include Gojo feeling you up the entire time.

Gojo trusts you with his entire being; he just won't let anyone mess with what's his. You belong to Gojo, and Gojo only.

Gojo made it known to everyone that you’re his property. He doesn’t mean to be so possessive; he just can’t help it. The consequence for messing with what's his has also been made crystal clear.

Gojo sometimes fantasizes about him being the only man that you interact with, but he would never make that a reality. He still has some type of self-control. Don’t test Gojo, though; he’s quick to change his mind.

Arguments with Gojo really only happen because he can’t seem to control his jealousy issues. In the end, he always ends up in your arms, apologizing over and over again for raising his voice at you.

Gojo won’t control what you wear, but he’ll whine endlessly to hopefully change your mind. If you ultimately end up doing what you want, he’ll keep you awfully close while you two are out. Don’t get me wrong, he loves seeing you in your short skirts and tight tops, but he wants to be the only one to see. 

It’s all out of love, Gojo promises. Over time, he’ll work on it. Gojo knows that you’ll always be his.

Geto

Geto is quick to put an end to any unnecessary contact with another man other than him.

It’s no surprise when Geto pulls you away mid-conversation with an old friend of yours. Complaints won’t do much; if he doesn’t want you talking to someone, you won’t.

Geto doesn’t really get upset with you when he’s jealous because he takes control of the situation before his feelings can progress. It’s for your own good. Geto pissed off is a scary sight.

Geto is used to having full control over everything; I mean, he runs an entire cult. This includes you; he tends to believe that he has full control over you. It’s not on purpose, just instinct.

His control over you is mainly for your safety. Geto’s lifestyle isn’t safe, and he knows. He’d rather die than have anything happen to you, no matter how big or small.

Geto is very possessive and overprotective because of this. You belong to him completely, and nobody can get to you unless he allows it.

You mainly put up with his possessive behavior because Geto is honestly all you can ask for in a man and more. He’d do absolutely anything for you, and it’s more than the truth.

Geto won’t tell you that he was jealous until it’s just the two of you in bed. Something about snuggling up with you under the covers in a quiet environment makes him want to confess everything.

He tends to become softer at night. It’s not uncommon for Geto to ask if you still love him or why you fell in love with him in the first place. No matter how tough his demeanor is on the outside, he’ll always be a softy for you.

Geto may or may not apologize verbally for his behavior; it depends on how sensitive he is that day. If Geto doesn’t outright apologize, he’ll do it in other ways, such as buying you a gift, giving you extra affection, or taking you out.

Choso

Choso is really needy and clingy when he's jealous. You’re the only one to see Choso in this state, begging to give and receive love.

Choso can’t help but feel self-conscious when you talk to or touch other men. Is he not enough?

He won’t directly tell you that he’s jealous most of the time, but you can tell by the way he snuggles his body into yours with little whines.

Please don’t ask Choso what's wrong; he’ll immediately start sobbing. Through choked sobs, he’ll admit that he doesn’t like the way that you talk to guys other than him.

Jealousy frustrates Choso to no end because he doesn’t necessarily know what the feeling is. All Choso knows is that he only gets it when you pay more attention to other people, especially guys.

Calming Choso down once he’s a sobbing mess in your arms is a task. No matter what you say or do, he’ll continue crying out his emotions for at least ten minutes.

The best thing that you can do is hold Choso and remind him that he’s the only one for you. Once he’s calmed down, Choso becomes overbearingly sweet and cuddly.

Endless kisses and snuggles from Choso are coming your way. Good luck trying to get him to stop (he won’t). It’s his way of self-soothing and reminding himself that you’re all his. Knowing that he’s the only one able to kiss and touch you warms his heart again.

As if his unnecessary affection wasn’t enough, he wants you to return the love. Choso will beg and beg for kisses and touches. Refusing to give affection will bring him to tears again.

After Choso’s received his fill of love and affection, all he wants is to cuddle until he falls asleep. If you hold his body close and play with his hair, he’ll instantly fall asleep with tears of joy. Choso loves you so much it hurts; he just wants to be your only one.

[honeekyuu]

talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

eight. stick hand

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. SUNA RINTAROU POV FOR THE FUCKING WIN

warnings: swearing, a LOT of kms jokes

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

Rintarou stares down at his phone, bouncing his knee anxiously while he chews on his lip. You’d gone offline four minutes ago, asking him to give you ‘just a second’. He doesn’t know what that means, and it scares him. 

He’s sitting in the kitchen of his tiny studio apartment, charcoal sticks scattered haphazardly on the table in front of him and several sheets of sketch paper trapped under his elbows while he glares nervously down at his phone. His skin is dusted with black carbon, and the rough sketches of you – the way he sees you in his memory, in the space behind his eyes that drifts often to you throughout the day – stare up at him from the paper.

He’s worried he’s crossed a line. He’d been a little rash, frustrated with the way you’d spoken about yourself, the way you’d avoided speaking about yourself. He’d just wanted you to see. To understand that he means what he says and he’s never once spoken without meaning. That when he calls you beautiful, what he really means is that every picture you send makes him want to bury his face in his hands and scream – because he’s overwhelmed with the need to touch you and hold you. To know you, to be in your space and in your way, because you make him feel nervous in ways he’s never felt before.

“Fuck,” he sighs, running dirty fingers through his bangs and pushing them out of his face. The time ticks past another minute, and regret forms a pit in his stomach. His knee bounces with increased irritation. He must have fucked up.

And then you call.

His phone lights up in his hand, screen flashing with ‘Incoming call from Pretty Girl’. 

“Oh, shit-” Rintarou drops his phone on the table, standing quickly and stumbling over the legs of the chair as he backs away.

He’s never spoken to you on the phone before. He’s sent the occasional voice note, and he’s heard your voice in the same way, but it’s never been this. He’s too scared to do it like this.

He shouldn’t be – he’s never been as comfortable around someone as he is around you. He’s been begging to see you, to meet you. He’d even called you, too, just a few days ago when you’d sent him the pictures of yourself. But he’d done it without thinking, too busy freaking out over the development in his friendship with you to even consider that talking on the phone – hearing your voice – might be too much for him.

He’s scared to fall for you. Scared because he already has. He doesn’t know how to be good for you, how to be someone you can trust with anything. You still fight to accept the things he says to you, and he worries sometimes that it’s because he’s not good enough at convincing you. At showing you that you’re all he wants. 

He’s scared that he’s falling too fast, that he’s going to fall alone. That it’s too early to think that you’re perfect – because he knows that you’re flawed, but God, he thinks you might just be perfect for him. But he’d be insane to give into that thought. It’s only been six weeks.

It’s only been six weeks, and he’s completely hopeless.

He doesn’t know if he can answer your call.

It goes to voicemail. He regrets not answering it.

You text.

‘please pick up, suna’

He’d do anything you say.

Hopeless.

His phone flashes with the incoming call again. He picks it up with a shaky breath and presses it to his ear.

“Hello?” His voice sounds gravelly in his own ears, rough with underuse after spending all day home alone. There’s quiet on the other end, quiet that lasts long enough to make his stomach twist. “Y/n?” 

“Hi,” you breathe. “Hi, Suna.”

Falling in love is painful, he thinks.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he whispers, entirely alone in his apartment. Entirely incapable of speaking any louder than this. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Walking to my next class,” you say, and Rintarou hears the splash of cars passing in the background. 

“Still raining?”

“Pouring.”

He swallows. “You didn’t have to call. I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

Another pause. His stomach turns and flips anxiously. He runs his fingers through his bangs again and chews on his lip.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

He breathes out a laugh, the air shaky as it leaves his lungs. “In that case, I’m perfectly happy to interrupt your day.” When you laugh, soft and gentle in his ear, he takes a very firm seat on his couch, knees close to giving out. “God, you have a pretty laugh. That’s no fair.”

“You’re so stupid, Suna.” 

“Yeah,” he says, propping his elbows up on his knees and smiling down at nothing. “You kind of have that effect on me.”

“Did you really draw those for me?” you ask, and he hears the quiet beep of the crosswalk behind you. 

“Got the charcoal fingers to prove it,” he says, smile widening when you laugh breathily.

“They were really pretty.”

“That’s because you’re really pretty.”

You inhale sharply. He waits for you to reject his words.

“You really think that?”

His heart surges with hope, and he clings to it. “With every fiber of my being, Y/n. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You swallow audibly and make a sound like you’re going to deflect the compliment, but he doesn’t let you. He pushes, because he doesn’t know when he’ll get this chance again. One where you might just hear him. “You’re so pretty it makes me nervous. I’m literally nauseous right now. I’m almost terrified to meet you in person – that’s how pretty you are.”

“No one’s ever thought that before.”

“I think that,” he says, urging you to listen. “I do, Y/n. I’ve thought it from the very beginning.” You’re further from the street now, he notices — the sounds of traffic have faded. He glances at the time. He only has five minutes left with you. “Are you at your next class?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. “Math building.” And then you take a breath, pausing for a moment before speaking. He does his best not to panic about the time ticking away. “You might get bored of me, Suna. You might find another girl.”

A prettier girl, is what you mean. He hears it in the silence. 

“I told you,” he says, scrubbing his brow with one knuckle. “There’s only one girl for me.”

“It might be too soon to say that.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah. I know. I know it’s soon, but I also know how I feel, so I don’t know what else to say.” By the time he's done, his voice is nothing more than a whisper again. He'd lost his confidence. He's too nervous.

You stay quiet, and his knee starts to bounce again. He’s worried you’ll hang up. That you won’t address the words that had just come out of his mouth.

“I know how I feel, too.”

The air is pushed from Rintarou’s lungs in one blow to the chest. The butterflies he’d been trying to tamper down are back, rushing through his blood and his veins and making his skin prickle with sweat. He laughs once, and then he keeps laughing – delirious and disbelieving, because he’s never once been this lucky in his entire life.

“You mean that, pretty girl?” he says through his insanity, the question bubbling out of his mouth while he cards his fingers roughly into his hair and tugs hard at his roots. Harder, until it hurts, just to check that he’s not dreaming.

“I’m not gonna stop being difficult and frustrating,” you say, as if that could ever drive him away. “I’m doing my best, but it’s not gonna be pretty.”

“Everything about you is pretty,” he argues, grinning wide when you giggle on the other end of the line. “And I already know that. I already know that I might never be able to convince you to feel differently about yourself.” He shakes his head, still smiling. “But I’m not ever gonna stop telling you how I feel about you. And to me, you’re-”

“The prettiest thing you’ve ever seen – I know,” you say, your eye-roll obvious even through the phone. “Keep it up, and I might just start to believe you.”

Rintarou jumps up, throwing his fist and screaming silently to himself. Like an idiot, he cheers to no one. Because that’s what he is for you, over and over again, willingly and gratefully. An idiot, one who falls fast and hard and with all his feelings, hoping you’ll do anything and everything with them.

Idiocy’s starting to feel a little like falling in love.

i'm here again, talkin' myself out of // my own happiness

talk too much [renee rapp].