#but then again we often have slow start at the grocery store too

[victorluvsalice]

-->They immediately arrived in the middle of a thunderstorm! *facepalm* I SWEAR, every time I travel... I promptly got the weather machine out of Build/Buy, stuck it on the right side of the lot (where it seemed least likely to block Sim traffic), and had Smiler set it to “clear skies” while Victor and Alice amused themselves with some chess (Alice won, to Victor’s slight annoyance XD). Smiler was successful and went to chat with them as the weather slowly but surely cleared up (though the game took its price by busting their umbrella), then – once the skies were blue and everyone was out of their wet clothes and into nice dry warm weather outfits – I had Victor challenge Smiler to a match while I sent Alice off to a nearby easel in the world to paint some of the benches and trees in the frankly very pretty cherry-blossom tree park behind her. :) Victor managed to win the game against Smiler – guess he was determined to make up for his loss to Alice. XD Once I was sure they were done, I had Smiler head to the front of the park and drink a plasma fruit to make sure they weren’t thirsty, then had Victor hit them with the old Scruberoo to make sure they were clean –

-->And then had Smiler set up the snack stand and start a food sale! Featuring Alice’s strawberry fizz cupcakes, pumpkin spice waffles, blueberry pie, and remaining banana split waffles from the last sale (which – I THOUGHT the game had said were spoiled when I first looked in Smiler’s inventory, but then they were fine again after I started moving items into the stand? O.o Game, what – actually, I won’t complain about you unspoiling my food, carry on) and Victor’s everything bagels. Things were a bit slow at first, so I left Smiler tending the table and instead focused on keeping Victor busy with collecting insects (a couple of locusts fluttering around the park) and making a digital painting of a bench by the big circle fountain a little ways away (which ended up being a masterpiece, nice). Once Victor was sufficiently occupied, I checked back in on Smiler, but only one potential customer had shown up – dude named Patrick who I recognized from the last update at the grocery store. Well, at least that suggested he would buy something! I had Smiler give him a sales pitch, which didn’t seem to do much unfortunately –

Then realized Victor was already done with his painting, whoops. Forgot the ones on the digital sketchpad go WAAAY faster than the ones on the easel! I had him come back and plant a bluebell in the public planters in the park, then tend the plants and before settling in for a bit of cloudgazing while I went back to Smiler. A few more people had shown up by this point, including Marcus Flex and L. Faba from the Magic Realm. Smiler greeted and made insta-friends with Marcus Flex, as is their wont, picking up a new like for High-Energy Sims in the process (seems legit). I kept an eye on them and tried to have them hit as many Sims with sales pitches as they could –

[meeludrawz]

New Rehab Program - P5

A/N: Hey if you wanna get tagged, just tell me! Cuz life makes me update slow, rip Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of you being badly injured, mention of death

About three weeks later, you were looking through the fridge with your phone in hand. "I know, I know but I think he's gonna eat the walls if he doesn't go out" You threw a glance at Tomura. "No offense" You mouthed.

The ex-villain, sitting on the kitchen counter, yes ON the counter, only stucked his tongue out while he played on his phone. You recently found out that he liked sitting on any surfaces, like a cat. You often told him to not do that, but he never listened so you quickly gave up.

All Might was trying to change your mind. He wasn't against the idea of giving Shigaraki more freedom but your bosses would put you and the retired hero in trouble.

"I know it has been only three weeks since your last visit and I know he's gonna hang out with Dabi- I mean Touya, next week" You sighed. "But he needs to go out or he's gonna chew his cage, I'm telling you"

"Ew" Tomura mumbled.

You playfully stuck your tongue out at Shigaraki before your face slowly faded into disappointment as you listened to All Might.

The villain looked up and immediately frowned. {He's smart} You thought with a sad smile because, one again, society was stopping him from having fun.

You silently nodded. "Yes I understand.. Thanks All Might" You almost whispered before hanging up.

You peeked at the white haired man. "Sorry, we-"

He jumped off the counter and put his hand on your mouth, cutting you off. "Turn off your phone and let's go"

You blinked multiple times, removing his hand from you. "What? Why?"

"Let's get groceries anyway" He walked to the entrance, putting his red shoes on.

Your eyes widened. "What? No, I'll get in trouble"

"C'mon, I won't do shit, plus I'm sick of not having any Monster"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the mention of the energy drink, before quickly following him.

Once at the grocery store, you grabbed a cart and the white haired man climbed in it.

"Didn't you say you weren't going to do shit, mister?" You chuckled. "And you're not a kid"

"This is nothing compared to what I would've done before, so shut up and drive" He grumbled while he got comfy.

You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes before entering the fruit and vegetables area.

You only grabbed what you needed while Tomura didn't pick anything until you reached the snacks aisle.

There, he snatched energy drinks, chips and some other sweets. You, on the other hand, took more sweets than anything else.

"My therapist is a fucking sweet tooth" He mumbled as you put the stuff in the cart.

"Hey, you took chocolate too!"

"Well, I didn't just take that!" He teased as you drove the cart towards the cash registers.

You paid for everything then as you started pushing the cart towards the exit, his whispers made you shiver. "Stay silent and hurry"

"Why?" You whispered back, nervously looking around as you quickened your pace.

He only answered once you were at your car. You opened the trunk and started putting the bags inside with Tomura's help.

"The cops are here and they don't look happy" He grumbled in a low voice, holding your wrist and throwing glances here and there.

"Oh fuck, am I going to jail??" You whispered-yelled as you spotted them too

"Maybe" Tomura grinned at your horrified expression "But hey, you wouldn't be alone"

"I'd rather NOT go to jail Tomura" You mumbled with gritted teeth

"Just stay behind-"

Gunshots were fired and you immediately fell to the floor. But for Tomura, it felt like you were falling in slow motion, as he tried to catch you. "NO!"

He didn't know why, but everything got blurry. Your voice, his surroundings, the cops, your face, everything. It all felt surreal for some reason and yet, he was holding you tight against him and breathing like he had just ran a marathon.

The villain glared at each damn cops that was surrounding him. They'll fucking pay.

"Tomura?"

Wait that was your voice, he looked at you, but you were dead. Eyes opened, not any single light in it and blood had ran down your chin

"Tomura!"

The young man blinked and found himself in a new room. Where the fuck was he?

He felt something pet his head and he sat up in a jolt.

"Hey, it's okay! It's just me!" You lifted your hands in a defensive way. "You were having a nightmare so I woke you up"

Tomura stared at you. A nightmare? He observed his surroundings. You were both on a bench, secluded from… multiple cubicles. What stood out the most were the people in uniforms.

Cops

He frowned. "Why are we here?"

"Remember that call with All Might earlier?"

He turned back to you and nodded.

"Yeah, well after that, we went to the grocery store, right?" He nodded again. "All Might called again when we were gone and since we didn't pick up, he got anxious and called Eraser Head and the police" You gave him a small smile, scratching the back of your neck.

"They found us- I mean found me when I walked out of the store cuz you were asleep in the cart" You then chuckled. "You should've seen that, All Might literally grabbed you bridal style like a little baby because I asked to not wake you up"

Shigaraki made the most hilariously-disgusted face you've ever seen and that made you laugh. "I'm so sad I didn't bring my phone to take a pic"

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't explain why we're here"

"Right! So we're here to get scolded.. kinda? Anyways, All Might and Eraser Head are getting scolded for disturbing the police for "nothing". They started with them because I insisted, again, that you should sleep"

Tomura raised a brow. But before he could even ask why, you added: "Don't look at me like that, I know you have trouble sleeping"

Shit, how did you know? He avoided your gaze. "Maybe I'm just playing all night"

You shook your head and crossed your arms. "I have good ears sir, plus, you don't close your door anymore and I'd hear the clackety of your controller, the tapity of your keyboard or the clickety of your mouse"

The young man stayed silent. He turned his body and leaned his back against the wall, still sitting next to you.

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He hesitated for a couple of long seconds. What could he even tell you? "I.. Keep dreaming about this person.." He stopped for a bit, thinking of how he should phrase this. "They keep dying in front of me"

It was your turn to stay silent. You were almost anxious to even answer because for once, he was willing to talk. He was finally opening up to you about his problems! Which was why you were scared to fuck things up.

"It's my reaction to their death that annoys me" Tomura mumbled.

"Why? Do you start laughing?" You tried to guess.

He shook his head and his frowned deepened. You could read his face, he was trying to understand his dreams on his own but he couldn't and that was frustrating him. Normally, you would've smiled and told him it was okay but you couldn't activate too much your therapist mode. In case he'd figure and close himself again.

"No.. it's.."

You let him figure his words on his own. If he didn't, you'd try to help as subtly as possible.

He clenched his fists, glaring at the ground. "I don't fucking know, but I hate it" It felt like he was pouting, which was cute, somehow.

"Hate what? Your reaction? That person? Seeing them die?"

He took a few moments for himself. It took so long that you thought he figured this was kind of a therapy, which got you nervous, but he answered. "Them dying, I just don't get it.. Normally I don't give a shit"

You smiled a little. "Well.. Maybe you do now" He gave you an annoyed look. "I mean, deep down, inside you, you're afraid of losing that person. And you maybe actually like them a lot more than you may think"

The white haired man crossed his arms, looking down, you could almost see the gears turn in his head.

The silenced installed itself in between the two of you. You actually appreciated it while Tomura was breaking down his brain piece by piece.

Though, you thought that he shouldn't think too much about this. After all, it was just a dream. And they didn't always mean something.

You smirked a littke and nudged his shoulders with yours. "How's that for a first therapy session?"

Shigaraki blinked, coming back to reality, then turned to you, taking a few seconds before he realized. He then frowned, fuck maybe you fucked up.

"Fuck off" He gently pushed you off the bench you both were sitting on since you arrived at the station.

He was smirking so you smiled back. "Hey!" You stood up and grabbed his wrists, trying to pull him off the bench too.

He scoffed as it wasn't working.

You fooled around like that for a while, seemingly not realizing that the two heroes were watching you.

His blonde colleague smiled. "I believe this is working well"

"Apparently.." Aizawa crossed his arms.

He felt odd about this, no, he felt… Proud? Why? Normally, he'd feel that kind of pride for his students. But now, for some reason, he was glad that Tomura Shigaraki and his therapist were getting along and having fun.

Maybe All Might's plan to rehabilitate Tomura- Tenko wasn't as worthless as he thought after all..

Prev Next

[samioli]

I humbly ask for your NaruMitsu headcanons. Please

OOOOH man. this is hard to think on the spot but ill try my best! SFW headcanons:

-Phoenix is Bi. He also experimented with larry in college, you cannot convince me otherwise fdsnjkdsf

-Miles is gay (in my mind) and also demisexual!

-phoenix has ADHD and BPD, Miles is autistic

-Miles either makes too little eye contact or too MUCH eye contact. no in between

-Miles may pretend to be indifferent, but he LOVESSSS phoenix's scruffy look during the 7yg. finds it v hot and wants to stim on his stubble

sorry i cannot think of anymore sfw headcanons JNDFKJNDSFJK

NSFW Headcanons

-I think they're switches, but I think Miles leans more into being submissive of the two of them. Just my opinion! and i think he can def be dominant, especially if phoenix wants that.

-going off of that, i think it takes time for him to be comfortable with that too. In my head, he's tried to hook up with other men in the past, but he always felt sick to his stomach when trying. He thought for a while if he was in control that would help, and i think part of him def wants to be in control when he's with strangers, but once he's with phoenix he learns that he can start to let go of some of that control in a safe, loving environment. and eventually he's like putty in phoenix's hands

-Once Miles and Phoenix start dating, miles at this point thinks he's asexual and "warns" phoenix, bc he's concerned it might be a dealbreaker. phoenix totally understands, tells him they never have to have sex if that was what was comfortable for miles, that he loves Miles as a person. miles is so smitten with this man

-Phoenix often checks in with Miles during like kissing and everything if its all okay, and one day when they're making out, Phoenix pulls back and asks him if he's okay--Phoenix with his hair a lil messy and his checks flushed and lips swollen. and miles is like. oh

-He feels himself actually WANTING to touch phoenix and make him look even MORE disheveled and he's just SO overwhelmed but in a GOOD way and he WANTs

i think it goes down like this:

Phoenix: "U-Uh, Miles? Should we, uh--hnghh--sl-slow down, or…?" Miles stops for a moment: "Would you like to stop?" Phoenix, sheepish: "W-Well, no, but what about you? Isn't this--?" Miles: "Wright. I'm quite certain if you do not take your trousers off right this second, I will surely explode." Phoenix: Phoenix, internally: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛs sᴏ ʜᴏᴛ

-once thats out in the open, miles is fucking KINKY. and a horndog. me and sapphirewine have joked that they're just going at it over and over again until phoenix runs dry bc miles is insatiable now that he feels like this

-miles def has some like, fantasy kinks. micro/macro. unrelastic kinks like that. cum jar who said that

-and phoenix is just a pure freak he's like YEAH SURE!!! WHAT ELSE!!!!! YOU WANNA BE THE NAUGHTY YEAST TO MY BAKER?

-they are so weird and i love them for it

-it gets to the point where its like they always "yes and" each other during sex. this is both good and bad. good bc they're in a loving relationship where they can trust each other and they're very similar with their kinks so they bond over that. Bad in the sense that they be having sex roleplay where, as sapph said once, "spilled milk on aisle 6 and grocery store employee" they'll somehow do it. i believe in them.

-they have very few limits i feel

-again. both good and bad dkfjndjksfn

my brain is getting sleepy so ill end it here but i hope you enjoyed my rambling!

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. I slept a little better. I woke up with James alarm but they didn't get out of bed. They apparently weren't feeling very good this morning and just staying in bed with me for a while longer helped make them feel better. I'm glad I could help. They would get up eventually and went for a bike ride and would come home around 9 when I was waking up.

The sun got me right in the face again. Horrible. James tried to block it and it helped but it still startled me. We laid in bed for a while together. And it was just a nice slow morning.

We didn't have any plans for the morning. I got dressed and James brought me a donut for breakfast. I asked them to please bring my marker box in so that I could go through it for my holiday markets.

I went downstairs and started unpacking and organizing the box. Ideally everything would fit in the trunk, but with my new stand I may have to give up on that. We will see what happens but for now I focused on organizing what I had, and figuring out how to better utilize the space.

I added elastic straps to the lid for the one sign and for my table clothes. Perfect.

I would call my dad around 11 and we talked for a out 45 minutes. I appreciate his positive outlook but I do find it slightly frustrating when I am talking about the reality of our financial situation. Like yes, having a baby and taking care of them is a job, but it doesn't pay anything! And unless you plan on paying me, I will have to go back to work and I am still slightly afraid of losing my jobs. I will have to figure out how to handle all of it. But it is tough. And I appreciate that he's trying to be positive but even together me and James don't make as much as he did when him and mom decided to have me. We are doing our best but it's the reality of life right now. So you have to understand why it feels a little dismissive of my fears. This isnt a don't sweat the small stuff situation. And I do believe it will be okay, but I'm allowed to feel scared too.

It was still nice to talk. I wish he would stop alluding to the future, and how he probably won't come see baby. I hope I am misunderstanding that, because while I know it's hard on him, I think he should be working towards being able to come here. And maybe I'm being dismissive of his fears in the same way he's being dismissive of mine. Something to think about I guess.

When we got off the phone I went downstairs to sit with James for a while. Just letting my phone charge and enjoying James's company.

Soon though we decided to go and run some errands and get lunch.

We went to Michaels so I could get some more things for my market display. A box to sort my stickers. Some wood to put my crates together. A wooden frame to use as a sign for my stickers, though I will have to figure out how to make it stand up. We also got gift bags. I had a $5 off voucher and James found a 30% off coupon so it was a pretty good deal.

James ran that to the car and dropped that off. We would walk around the grocery store but it was super busy and so we left and went to lunch instead.

We had five guys. The soda machine was not working right but lunch was still good. I was feeling a little off. A little nervous about the ultrasound. Honestly though a lot less nervous then I have been before. I think because she's moving more often now. So it's kind of like I can feel more secure.

We had an hour and a half until the appointment though. We decided to go home to wait. And I would work on my market stuff. I built the crate stand. And got the stickers in the new storage/organization box. And painted the background of the sticker board. It has been white but I wanted it to be black to match the other sign. It would need a few layers though, it was a weird texture to paint on.

I let James know when I thought we should leave. I was slightly nervous but it would be fine. We had some trouble getting to the parking garage because of road closures. But we found out that if you park on the 4th level you can take a bridge to the hospital! You don't even have to go outside! Great to know for the future.

We waited for a little while, so no rush was needed. We would get pulled back before 3. And our tech was super nice.

She was more gentle than the last woman. But baby was not cooperating. Baby is breech still and all crunched up. Literally she was folded in half! Knees in front of her face. I wasn't always sure what I was looking at. But we tried a few different things to get her to move. Because she was moving but she wasn't stretching out as much as we wanted.

They tried giving me ice water and walking around and tilting the table. But not enough to get her to flip. We still got a few pictures. Even two 3D pictures! But because her knee was in her face it looks pretty funny.

I was having a nice time, hearing her heartbeat and seeing her spine. Her leg bone. It's exciting to see these little pieces. But man do these ultrasounds make me sleepy.

I joked about having an earlier appointment next time, so I could nap after. And man did I get what I asked for, because my next appointment is at 7am on Christmas Adam. Incredible.

We went home after that. I was tired but I wanted to keep working on my market stuff. James would go in the kitchen to make pizza dough and pie crust. And I would design a few signs. I am pretty pleased with how they look. I still need to figure out how to make the sticker sign stand but I am pleased with how it looked.

I would tidy up and went upstairs to watch TikToks and lay around. James made me veggie hotdogs for dinner. The cheese sauce they got me was really spicy?? I think I may have gotten a worse spice tolerance being pregnant? No idea. But it was still good.

James would come and lay with me once they were done baking. And we would watch TikToks and hang out. Eventually though I went and took a bath. Which is never warm enough but I'm not supposed to take baths with to hot water. Don't want to sous vide the baby I guess.

Now we are in bed. And I am ready to lay down and not think. I am tired but not to tired. Hopefully I can sleep easy.

Tomorrow I have a mid morning meeting about a possible upcoming opportunity. And I hope to do some sewing and some organizing and just enjoy a nice day.

I hope you all have a good day too. Sleep well everyone. Good night!

[pencil-down-a-paragraph]

Red

Warnings: None :) Just fluff.

Summary: Impulse control fails you, the way it often does when you're a thief, and you dye your hair. Pre-relationship heist mark and y/n.

AO3

...

“You better not stain our sink.”

You roll your eyes in the mirror, glancing back to where your heist partner is leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, his arms folded and an amused little grin on his face.

“If you’re so concerned about staining you would have slapped the hair dye out of my hands when we were at the store.” You say, snark creeping into your tone.

You had holed yourself into the bathroom an hour earlier, bleach and multiple boxes of hair dye in hand. You had been thinking about dying your hair for a while, the long hours of planning your latest heist the only thing keeping you from impulsively coloring it with cheap convenience store dye in the dead of night. But now the heist is finished, the loot is stashed away, and your days are suddenly free again.

All it took for the impulses to take control again was a quick trip to the store during your’s and Mark’s regular grocery run.  A detour through the hair care aisle had you pausing, eyeing the box of fire truck red hair dye. Seconds later, you’re tossing everything you need in the basket while your partner reminds you that you hadn’t grabbed shampoo while waving the grocery list in your face.

“You didn’t give me time to,” He says flatly as you stick your head under the running faucet. “You made me forget the cheese, by the way, so thanks for that.”

“Whatever, Mark,” you stick your foot out and poke his leg, surprisingly hitting your mark (haha) despite not being able to see “Hair dye is the future, and cheese is also the future, just farther off.”

Mark snorts “I think you’ve been huffing that bleach for too long,”

Probably.

Your wet hand slaps at the faucet when the water in the sink becomes clear again, turning it off before grabbing for the towel that is not in the place you left it.

Freaking—

“Here,” A towel is tossed onto your head, your vision obscured as you’re pulled away from the bathroom counter and turned around. Your hands raise as Mark carefully scrunches the towel over your hair, settling your grasp on his biceps to keep yourself balanced while he dries your hair.

Which is another thing entirely, because he’s… drying your hair for you. He doesn’t have to, you certainly didn’t ask. This is new.

Your heart flutters at the warmth radiating off of his arms and palms through the fabrics. You force your breathing to slow when he briefly touches your neck.

This could be a problem.

The first thing you see when he pulls the towel off your head is his face, closer than you thought he was. His dark eyes drift over your messy hair thoughtfully.

“It’s a good color on you.” He says after a moment. A lopsided grin that makes your heart skip spreads across his face suddenly. He reaches up to play with a piece of your hair, then finally makes eye contact. “You look nice, Red.”

His finger grazes your face and your heart beats quicker still, goosebumps raising. Your hands drop from his arms, the proximity getting to you.

Yeah, it’s definitely a problem.

“Again with the nicknames,” You complain, hoping your face doesn’t match your new hair. “I’m starting to think you forgot my name.”

He laughs, a pretty sound that rings loud in the small bathroom.

“You would think that, wouldn’t you,” He says your name. You always like the way it sounds when he does. “You act like you don’t know your own name, you make me fill out your information forms.”

“Shut up, Markus.”

“Uncalled for!”

You laugh together, sound petering off, leaving your face only a little warm and Mark’s smile comfortable instead of the usual cocky, the smile you of few people get to see.

You stay in that space, just looking at each other and ignoring the chemical scent in the air. There’s a softness to the way he looks that he always has, in his oversized sweatshirt and almost unnoticeable dusting of freckles and his ever messy hair. you want to run your hands through it, you hardly ever get the chance.

You break the silence, rocking forward slightly.

“Y’know, I still have dye left,” you ruffle his hair because you can’t resist, chest nearly touching his now “Maybe we can match.”

Mark leans away from your touch, smile still stuck on his face, he swats your hand away playfully.

“Not on your life, buddy.”

[starseedfxofficial]

McClellan Oscillator: Your Secret Weapon for GBP/CAD Trading The McClellan Oscillator: A Hidden Gem for Trading the GBP/CAD Trading Forex is a lot like trying to pick the fastest checkout line at the grocery store—sometimes, no matter what you choose, it feels like you end up behind someone with a hundred coupons. And if there's one currency pair that’s notorious for giving traders a run for their money, it's the British Pound/Canadian Dollar (GBP/CAD). But fear not—I’m about to introduce you to a hidden gem that can help you sidestep those painfully slow lines: the McClellan Oscillator. Let’s take a behind-the-scenes look at how this often overlooked oscillator can bring order to the chaos of trading GBP/CAD. With a dash of humor and a lot of savvy trading insights, we’re about to get a lot smarter (and maybe a little wealthier). Buckle in, because we’re going from checkout-line confusion to a VIP express pass. The McClellan Oscillator Explained: In Plain English So, what’s the McClellan Oscillator, and why should you care? Think of it as your market mood gauge. It’s like having that friend who always knows when the party is about to go off the rails—or when it’s time to just go home. The McClellan Oscillator measures market breadth, meaning it helps us see whether more stocks are advancing or declining, and gives you a glimpse of whether the bulls or bears are secretly winning. But here’s the kicker—we can use this same oscillator to make sense of the currency markets, particularly with the British Pound against the Canadian Dollar. This pair, influenced heavily by economic policies, Brexit concerns, and the price of oil, can behave like a rollercoaster on an off day. The McClellan Oscillator provides a more nuanced perspective, helping you spot whether the momentum is building or fading—before the price action tells the story. GBP/CAD and the McClellan Oscillator: A Match Made in Forex Heaven Now, you might be thinking: "Why should I use the McClellan Oscillator for GBP/CAD?" Well, the British Pound and the Canadian Dollar are two currencies with plenty of wildcards. On one hand, the GBP reacts to the political environment and economic data in the UK—which means every speech, vote, and minor headline can throw a wrench into your trading plan. On the other hand, CAD has a love affair with oil prices, swaying in sync with the energy market like it’s two-stepping with crude oil. With all this unpredictability, the McClellan Oscillator serves as a beacon of light in murky waters. By providing insights into market momentum, it helps you identify whether the pair’s moves are genuine or if they’re just false starts—the kind that make you want to yell, "Really, GBP? Again?!" Instead of just reacting to price swings, the oscillator allows you to be proactive—to anticipate those market turnarounds that leave other traders scratching their heads. Reading the Signals: When to Pull the Trigger Using the McClellan Oscillator isn’t about fortune-telling—it’s about being prepared. Let’s say you’re watching GBP/CAD, and you see the oscillator dipping into negative territory, but not deeply enough to indicate a full-on bearish party. This could mean the trend is weakening, and it’s time to think about closing long positions before they get uncomfortable—like the feeling when you realize you’re wearing mismatched socks at an important meeting. The McClellan Oscillator helps you time your entries and exits more effectively. Positive divergence? That’s your cue to think bullish. Negative divergence? Maybe it’s time to take some profits or tighten up your stop losses. It’s like knowing when to put your foot on the gas or when to ease off to avoid that speed bump ahead. With the unpredictable nature of GBP/CAD, this kind of insight is priceless. Why Most Traders Miss Out (And How You Won’t) Here’s the thing—most traders don’t even consider using tools like the McClellan Oscillator because they’re too caught up with the more mainstream indicators. It’s the classic case of following the crowd. But, as any successful trader will tell you, the real opportunities come when you venture off the beaten path. The McClellan Oscillator can be the secret sauce that helps you spot reversals before they happen, or gauge when a move is losing steam while everyone else is still piling in. Imagine being the person who gets out of a trade just before it reverses against everyone else—like leaving a party just before the host starts hinting about cleanup duty. That’s the power of using this oscillator with GBP/CAD. It gives you a leg up, ensuring you’re not stuck cleaning up after a market mess. Combining McClellan Oscillator with Other Tools for GBP/CAD To get the most out of the McClellan Oscillator, it’s best to combine it with other indicators. For GBP/CAD, pairing it with the Relative Strength Index (RSI) or Moving Averages can be particularly powerful. Picture it like having a GPS and a backup map—one gives you the exact route, while the other confirms you’re not heading into uncharted territory. For example, if the McClellan Oscillator indicates waning bullish momentum while the RSI is showing overbought conditions, you’ve got yourself a perfect storm for a reversal. And what do we do with storms? We prepare—by either getting out of the trade or positioning for a potential short. How to Amplify Your McClellan Oscillator Insights with StarseedFX If you’re keen on leveraging the McClellan Oscillator to its fullest potential, StarseedFX has your back. Their Forex News Today service helps keep you ahead of the curve by providing real-time insights and economic indicators—vital when trading pairs influenced by both politics and commodities like GBP/CAD. Not to mention, StarseedFX’s community membership offers expert analysis and daily alerts that perfectly complement the momentum signals you get from the oscillator. And don’t forget—tracking your trades with StarseedFX’s free trading journal can help you refine your approach over time. Imagine looking back and seeing exactly why you made that perfect call—or why you bailed on a trade at the right moment. Knowledge is power, and having a record of your successes and hiccups is key to turning good strategies into consistently great ones. Trading GBP/CAD can feel like navigating through a maze—blindfolded. The McClellan Oscillator, when used right, offers a way to peek behind the curtain and see what’s really going on. It helps cut through the noise, giving you the clarity needed to make smarter, faster, and more profitable decisions. Instead of falling into the trap of using only the standard indicators that everyone else is glued to, consider adding this oscillator to your toolkit. The McClellan Oscillator may not be as popular as the MACD or RSI, but that’s precisely what gives it an edge. It’s like having a little-known back door to success in the Forex market—and who doesn’t want that? So next time you’re about to make a call on GBP/CAD, glance at the McClellan Oscillator and see what it has to say. You might just find yourself making moves with more confidence—and with a lot fewer market-induced headaches. For those ready to elevate their trading even further, check out StarseedFX. From advanced courses and exclusive tools to a supportive community that’s all about staying ahead of the game, you’ll be well-equipped to take on anything the GBP/CAD throws your way. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[ms0milk]

hashira relationship hcs !

| hashira x gn!reader (sfw)

a/n: + Muichiro is a literal child, so no i’m not diving into that one– thanks for the reqs y’all!

Tengen

he’ll charm parents

he’ll charm siblings

he’ll charm pets

Tengen’s the kind of man that makes your great grandma horny you feel me

i just know being in a relationship with this gentleman is out of the mfing galaxy

Tengen wants to comb your hair slowly in the shower no matter hOW LONG it takes

he wants to sit and talk with you for hours over delicious food

he wants to make you laugh so hard you cry

Tengen is an experience

like he’s the concierge at five star luxury hotel but the hotel is just his fucking body

If anyone was going to be that irritating mfer who always wants to wear matching outfits it’s this guy

and when he’s finished with you, you’re always just slightly too dressed up for the outing

you two are gonna be the most fuckable people at the grocery store and that’s an Uzui guarantee

and don’t get me started on your girlfriends

the Uzuis are the gift that keeps on giving

Tengen is the boyfriend that just never stops taking your picture

or bragging to anyone who’ll listen

his teammates

his boss

fucking demons– i mean anyone with ears

“They’re just, just– you know?”

“Yes, Tengen we all know.”

“Like,, picture a spring morning– probably like 76° because that’s the perfect kind of day– and there’s laughter in the dis–”

“WE KNOW TENGEN”

adoration doesn’t take time off sorry

Sanemi

one single solitary word

Clingy.

Sanemi Shinazugawa is too embarrassed to admit you’re the first person that he’s truly, fully in love with

he’s too cool for puppy love!

you don’t push him to be physical, you don’t overstep his boundaries

aagbpebepbk do you want him to be obsessed with you?? you’d better stop being so goddamn respectful of his trauma

and still he somehow shows up in the corner of every room you’re ever in

“Sanemi, do you um, need something?”

“Huh? I’m concentrating, leave me be.”

Sure he’s concentrating, but he’s also kneeling in the doorway of the living room pretending to read a book on the floor

“Um..Nemi, I can weed the garden on my own.”

He’s squatting next to you, handing you the tools he thinks you’ll need before you can reach for them

“You’re too slow, this is faster.”

Right, of course.

“Are you sure you don’t need to talk about something?”

Your bathroom isn’t even big enough for two people to brush their teeth at the sink side by side like this

“You said my morning breath was smelly, make up your mind– y’not want me to fix it?”

This..is simply not what you meant

Sanemi also prides himself in his masculinity!

He’s carrying groceries

He’s taking out the trash

Massaging that spot on your back that’s always tight for some reason

He’s tending to the yard

Defending you from the sputtering cooking oil at dinner time!

but not because he’s obsessed with you or anything oh god no

Rengoku

my knees fold backwards from how weak he makes me

Rengoku writes you love letters

pride & prejudice levels of longing

letters you gotta take breaks from while reading or you’ll just implode

when you’re both too busy with work to see each other as often as you’d like, he knows this is the fastest way to feel close to you again

y/n wrote these thoughts with their own hands

he could stare at the page and run his fingers over the lettering without reading a single word, just lost in imagining what the world around you looked like while you were writing this to him

Rengoku is also an excellent houseguest

no clumsily broken dishes, not a pillow out of place, not even a single heavy footstep

and oh my lord

does he do chores like a champ

he knows you have a busy work day ahead of you?

that laundry’s going to be washed, folded, and dried before you get home

you’re not feeling well?

the bathroom is clean, the kitchen is stocked, there’s fresh cut flowers in your bedroom

you’re recovering from a mission?

househusband activate

he’s strapping on his haori and BLASTING the house into perfect working order

the only downside is that this man cannot cook to save his life

it’s Rengoku’s dream to take you home with him and introduce you to his brother

to stop you from assaulting his father

to visit his mother’s grave together

he just KNOWS you’re what he’s always been looking for

and that anyone who loves him, will love you even more

Obanai

the definition of fangirl behavior

this is the man that’s gonna take a knee to tie your shoe in public

cuz he’s got that phat ooey gooey crush on you

Iguro’s a pretty quiet fella when there aren’t any assholes to antagonize

so this sweetheart just lives to provide for you

he likes to know you’re feeling full because you ate his cooking

he likes to see you wear the clothes he bought you while away on missions

(he never comes back from a mission empty handed, oh my god can you imagine)

similarly he likes to know you’re sound asleep because he’s the one who tired you out

even though he’s not the most flamboyant, everyone around you is just about blinded by how bright his eyes shine for you

they’re a fucking traffic hazard

they’re sending ships to their doom on the coastline in a storm

from your perspective he’s just thoughtful and loyal

like you fit together effortlessly

but to everyone looking from the outside in

they can clearly see Obanai frantically pulling all the parts of his plan together so your day goes without a hitch

i’m talking,, filling potholes in town with his own hands so you never even have to avoid a puddle

goat bf behavior

Kaburamaru is even more clingy, and likes to wind across your shoulders as you work, or snuggle in your long sleeves on rainy days

the best part of Obanai’s day is falling asleep with you knowing he spent yet another day worshiping the ground you walk on

he likes to cuddle with either one of your heads on the other’s chest because no matter which position he’s in, he gets to fall asleep listening to the sound of your hearts beating together

Mitsuri

you’re not leaving her house without lip balm, sunscreen, and a full belly

the queen of absolute pampering

Mitsuri in a relationship is simply a top tier emotional fluffer

“baby try a bite of this and tell me what it needs”

“Y/n honey hold still, you’ve got leaves in your hair”

“come to me baby, i’ll zip that up for you”

Mitsuri LOVES spending time in the garden with her apiary

and her little beekeeping hat is too goddamn cute for you not to join her

she wants to share the things that make her happy with you more than anything!

well, not more than she wants to spend hours staring at you longingly from across the dinner table

you’re shopping at markets together

learning to cook new things together

going on trips to the beach, city, and countryside together

she’s big on casual PDA

wants to walk hand in hand, or at least pinky in pinky

makes sure her feet are at least touching yours under the table when you’re out to eat

loves LOVES when you ask her to wash your back in the shower

she’s so fucking sappy she wants to fall alseep with your foreheads pressed together, hand in hand

i’m trembling as i write this oh my god she’s perfect

basically just a life of luxury and companionship

and learning the secret to how she smells so goddamn good

Shinobu

she knows one of your favorite parts about her is her voice

so she loves reading out loud to you when you both have some down time

actually, one of her favorite things to do with you is nothing at all!

chatting a bit here and there, but generally doing your own separate things together

= Shinobu’s happy place

her brain is always going a million miles a minute, so the fact that you’re more than happy to take a nap in her lab while she works is seriously soothing

it’s an insecurity of hers don’t tell anyone that her lifestyle isn’t compatible with having a partner or a family

so the fact that you’re happy to work around her chaotic schedule is more comforting to her than you can know

Shinobu isn’t big on PDA but she capital-L Loves showing you off like her trophy

to people working the stands in the market

at pillar meetings

to her patients in the infirmary

if it wasn’t so dangerous she’d take you on missions just to brag about your beauty in every village across the country

she’s also stern

and so hard on herself

so don’t forget to call her something silly a few times a day

“hey hey now Crabapple, we can’t beat the patients just because they’re irritating”

“ahoy Sunshine! look at the butterflies in the garden today!”

you’re a nice balancing force in her life

you make her feel vulnerable and brave

oh, and don’t forget to help her channel her simmering rage!

take her outside by the hand with a soft smile, hand her a dish, and just smash that shit!

“c’mon Ko! you’ve been tense all day, break something with me!”

she’ll follow you to the ends of the earth

Giyuu

touch starved sonofabitch

that and an unwavering loyalty is what he’s bringing to the table

literally just run your fingers through his hair when you wake up and he’ll be fully recharged for the next 12 hours

in all seriousness, Giyuu has always found that the people he loves the most are taken from him

so before he can even admit how much he cares for you

before he even really realizes it

you need to be patient with this poor man

the actions that mean the most to him aren’t monetary or service-based

just show up

if you say you’re going to do something, do it

you say you’re always going to be there for him?

you better prove that shit baby

it’s the very second you burst through the doors of the butterfly mansion infirmary that it fully hits him

“Tomioka! Oh my god–”

“You came.”

“I–! I– what? Of course I came! You’re injured!”

“How did you know?”

“You weren’t at your house when I went over to check! Tomioka I can’t– you said you would be careful!”

sure you’re screaming at him and throwing the nurses into a tailspin with demands of ‘more pillows’ and ‘i need a chair goddammit’

but you’re so worried about him all he can do is smile

i think the best way to love Giyuu is just so overtly is feels silly

love him loudly

and he’ll just fall in love with you right back

he’ll always invite you to join him even if it seems ridiculous

“um, no thanks. I don’t really want to go to the bathroom with you baby.”

“okay, just checking.”

cutie

“i’m going to get a glass of water, do you want to come?”

“could you just…bring me one back?”

he’s just a perfect scrungly boy who’s new to the whole, being-loved-out-loud thing

Gyomei

doesn’t ever and i mean EVER open up to people

even when you start dating

he’s the toughest goddamned nut

he’s caring sure

i mean

is there even a word for the way he cares for you?

he’ll meet you at your work to walk you home everyday

he’ll tuck you in if you fall asleep hanging out and then sleep on the bare floor beside your bed so you don’t get uncomfortable

he’ll peel those little white strings off your clementines– i mean truly he does want to take care of you

and you love the attention don’t get me wrong

but sometimes you want him to just let loose a bit!

joke around with you

so you remind him sternly one morning that you’re “not a child!” when he offers to help you get dressed

“Of course you’re not.”

“No Himejima, listen to me!”

what else would he be doing

“You don’t have to protect my feelings, I’m your equal.”

it’s a small little comment, but it’s effective

right

you’re not like the people from his past

you’re not going to trick him

you’re not going to use him

if you were, you would’ve done it already!

it takes a few weeks but he starts to smile more

starts asking for help

he even laughed when you splashed him in the bath, so hard it startled you!

he fluctuates, but overall his adventurous partner is helping him to open up slowly but surely

[afatallovesong]

This Ends Here

An Ashton Irwin one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW, Female POV

Word Count: 7809

More than anything I wished that it worked out. Even now I wish that. I wished that we could put it behind us or at the very least work through the problems I didn’t even think we had at the time. That’s what love is about isn’t it? That’s what it’s supposed to be about. That’s what I thought we were about. I guess I could have been wrong. I probably was. There was love there, but it wasn’t between us, it was never between us, just him and his own love, his main love, a love I could never earn, never compete with.

I’d been coping. I was progressing, it was hurting less. I could go to the grocery store now, without chasing shadows, thinking about him pushing the cart, grabbing every snack on his way, no matter the total cost. I could even go for coffee at that one little café on the corner, the one he’d taken me to on our second date to make up for our disaster of a first. I was proud for being able to go there, I hadn’t thought I’d be able to, not yet or so soon. I’ll admit the sympathetic expression on the barista’s face had made it difficult, I guess even they’d heard, but I’d managed, I could manage. The only place I hadn’t been able to go, the only place I wouldn’t dare go, was where we met.

When he’d come over to me, somehow it’s like I knew, I’d be choosing between my favourite place the possibility of a future with this stranger with an infectious likability. I’d either get to share my safe space or lose it just by association. I’d held on too tight you see, too hard to let it go just yet. I didn’t want to believe sometimes that it was really over. Even if it felt like it was over for a while before it actually was. I could return there eventually, hopefully, but for now, I couldn’t even look at it without it all flooding back.

We were a whirlwind; we fell fast and hard, we fell truthfully, for a time. It was just another step in the right direction for him, a whole chunk of my life lost for me. That’s the worst part about it, he would benefit from the pain, from the angst. I would just hurt from it. He could use it and write a masterpiece. I would just lose it or fall to pieces. I had no outlet, I had nothing to channel it into. I just had to move on, keep looking up, keep going forward. I hated that.

I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d sat by the door. It was laughable how I really thought maybe he’d come back; he’d put me first. I wish I didn’t miss him. I wish I didn’t love him; I wish I never had. I wish I never let him in. I wish most of all that this infuriating knocking, hammering on my front door would just fade away. I wasn’t going to answer, I never answered. I couldn’t face anyone I actually knew, not yet. I hoped I didn’t have to.

The knocking continued. I turned the tv on, I turned the volume up, I blasted my ears with the soundtrack to whatever film had played on the 24-hour movie channel but still, the persistent knocking. Who would be so rude so, insolent even at this time? “Ash.” I breathed. I kept breathing, I tried to anyway, slow, and steady, in and out, in for four, hold for four, out for four, fuck the four. “I- I called.” I’d let my phone die, felt rather jealous of it actually. “I took a nap.” I don’t know why I lied. “It’s late.” He sighed. “I hate it when you do that.” He did it again. “I know you do.” I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes. “That’s why I do it.” He then started tapping his leg, drumming into it, nothing specific, nothing recognisable at least, just something, a coping mechanism, he was as nervous as I was. I could ease up on him, he was just a human , even if sometimes it didn’t feel that way.

“You okay?” His neck twitched slightly, in the way that it did when he had a lot to say but not enough words to let it flow. He kept tapping. “I’m doing great.” I said sarcastically. “Don’t do that.” He shook his head a little. “Do what?” I was already exasperated by our interaction, I often was. “Don’t fill the silence with sarcasm.” I sighed as he had. “What else do you propose I fill it with?” He looked up to the ceiling and then back to me. Where other people looked to the ground to find the words or the nerve, Ashton looked upwards. As if divine intervention itself would reign down on him. His positive thinking wouldn’t allow for him to look down, must always be looking up to better things.

“Silence doesn’t always need to be filled.” Ahh, yes, use my own words against me. I’d said it before. On our first date I’d said it. We’d been too nervous to utter a word, too jittery to do anything, like children asking out their crush for the first time, apprehensive, afraid of mistakes that would follow. I’d said it was okay. A silence doesn’t always mean a bad thing, a silence doesn’t always have to be filled. It could just be comfortable and that’s okay. He’d not agreed with me, he didn’t have to.

“Why are you here?” May as well ask him outright. There was no more need for this beating around the bush. I was already drained. “I left some things.” The tapping ended. “Oh.” He came to grab his stuff. I guess I thought he’d forgotten it maybe, replaced it even. I guess I thought I could stare at it a little longer too, hopelessly glancing at it whenever I walked past the box in the hallway. I never thought he’d actually planned on taking it back. “I boxed it up anyway.” I turned to the left of me, his box was there, just sitting there. I wished it was further away, back down the hall, in my room even, not as accessible, leaving us longer, just a little more time. Not that I had anything in mind as to what I’d use that time for, but it just felt like things were left uneasy, unsaid. Could I get things out there, off my chest, in the clear? Would I just go back to square one on how to be single?

“Your hoodie, it’s in the wash.” The second time I’d lied tonight. He took the box gratefully. I’d deserved a pat on the back for this. I hadn’t even winced when his fingers brushed mine. I hadn’t even considered placing them over his on purpose, I had controlled my urges. I was doing well. “You’ve been wearing it?” Only every night. “No, no I just, I thought it needed it, I couldn’t remember if it was clean when I packed it.” That was the worst excuse. “I see.” Sometimes he was too polite. “I can mail it.” I didn’t want to, but I would, if he asked. I hoped he wouldn’t. “It always looked better on you anyway.” I could only thank him with my eyes.

He started tapping again on the base of the carboard box that he made look tiny in comparison to his large hands. There was that silence again. Minus his own pattern across the box. It’s scary how fast we ran out of things to say. The two loudest people in any room, now the quietist. “I’m sorry for coming.” He ran his hand through his curls, the ones he’d let grow out, far longer than I thought he would. As he performed the action, the box had slipped from his spare hand, tipping onto the floor, items pouring out.

We both squat simultaneously to gather everything, hands, scrambling, items being stuffed into the box that wasn’t large enough to contain them in the first place. There were records, t-shirts, bracelets, necklaces, you name it, all things that could possibly make up who he was, were in that box and across this floor, being taken away from me all over again. I fell back, no longer squatting, or bending at the knee to gather the items. I’d seated myself, bringing my hands in front of my face, hiding my shame, my emotions that I swore I would hold back.

He paused his actions too, sinking onto his knees, just halting his any further motion until I removed my hands, lowing them to my sides. I’d stopped the tears, I’d held them back, the floodgates had not opened, not yet at least. I was in control again. “I was selfish coming back here.” I didn’t react, wasn’t sure how to. “I just wanted to see you.” I just sat there. Staring at the turquoise necklace with a tangled golden chain on the ground, the one I’d bought for him. “I needed to see you.” I couldn’t hold back this time, couldn’t bite my tongue as much as I would have liked myself to. “Needing inspiration perhaps.” He sighed just like I knew he would. “It’s not like that.” It felt like it was. “Then why would you do this?” He let his own hands fall to his sides. “You left your things here for a month, you couldn’t possibly have wanted them.”

“You’re not the only person who got hurt you know?” The twitch in his neck was no longer there, he’d finally said what he’d been trying to hold back before. “I hurt too, I lost you too.” I went to open my mouth, quickly closing it again. I didn’t want to be spiteful, I didn’t want to argue but I did want to say what had been on my mind, even if it wasn’t nice. “You chose to. Music was more important.” He was about to speak; I wouldn’t let him. “I know it’s your job, it’s your passion, it’s your life. I could have been too; I could have fit there somewhere and not in another song or another album.” He sighed once more; I would smother him if he did it again.

I understood when I started seeing him that there could be a song or two, maybe influenced by us. I hadn’t understood, why there would be a friction or a fight before every breakthrough, not until it was too late anyway. When the rest of the band had been at a loss, writer’s block also destroying their chances at creating something. They’d been in relationships, far stronger, had been in them far longer than we had, it seemed to make sense that we had to take the fall, we had to withstand damage. He wouldn’t even realise he was doing it, starting little fires, planting those seeds, locking himself away, locking me out, causing a space between us the size of the grand fucking canyon to cause him to feel something, something other than happiness with me. He needed the hurt, the angst, the pain. He needed material and the drama he’d inadvertently created between us was his only way of getting it.

Ashton reached out, his thumb wiping over my cheek, gently enough to have me wonder if he’d even touch me at all. I didn’t even feel the tear before he caught it. I didn’t feel the next one either. I just felt lost. “Do you know what it does to me, when I see you cry like this because of me?” I stared blankly at him. In my peripheral vision I could see the restlessness of his fingers. I’d have steadied them with my own if I had the courage. “I want to deserve you.” I muttered. He licked over his bottom lip, lingering on my every word as I sobbed for him. “I just wanted to deserve you.” I never did, not really, it would have worked out if I did. “I didn’t deserve you.” I said it again, as if that would make it hurt any less once the words fell from my mouth, out into the open.

“Y/n.” I didn’t even feel anything when he said my name, no anger, no butterflies, just numbness. “You should go.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to.” I found myself gathering the energy to pick myself up again, I’d drag myself back into my apartment if I had to. “I really, really don’t want to.” He said again. “It’s not up for discussion.” I held my hands up. He’d left his things still on the floor, he’d risen to his feet the moment I had, reaching his hand out to grab onto my wrist. I felt like his touch had been laced with electricity, shocking me to a standstill. “Let me be the one to deserve you.” He leaned forward, hastily, watching my eyes for alarm bells as he inched closer, now standing almost nose to nose, remarkably close in the doorway.

His thumb stroked over my wrist with the same shyness that he’d used to wipe my tear. My heart was aching for him, I know he knew it. His breaths were shaky, but he knew his effect. He knew I would melt for him. He could mould me however he liked. “Do we end here?” I found myself staring, pondering an answer. “Does this end here?” He asked. 

It should have, I know it should have, with every fibre of my being it should have but it didn’t. He’d gotten under my skin, gotten close enough to send my pulse rate out into orbit. I couldn’t stop myself when I kissed him. I don’t think I actually even tried to. He’d moved in close, but he’d not over stepped a physical boundary himself, no but I had, I did. I lost myself, I kissed him.

I’d enjoyed it too. I’d felt his rigidity at first, his surprise maybe even fear. He relaxed himself, returning my kiss, no extra movement, no deepening of it, simply just reacting to my lips. It was just a kiss. I’d been reluctant to pull away. I could have stayed there, attached to him for hours. I separated us. Even when I saw him losing his balance just to chase my lips, cheeks blushing red, lips swollen from my attack. I’d not felt numb anymore. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

“When you kiss me like that.” He was smiling, breathless and smiling. His palm had perched itself comfortably on the back of my neck, where I hadn’t fully acknowledged it had landed while he kissed me. “You make me feel good.” I just looked at him, really looked at him, the tiredness in the bags under his eyes, the beauty in the freckles dotting over his cheeks, the dimples of his smile, the ones I hadn’t seen for so very long. “I love when you kiss me like that.” He finished. 

It felt fair to kiss him again. It felt just. He’d guided my face back towards him anyway, using his hand, pressing lightly on my neck. I didn’t really need the encouragement, I just really, really liked it. I let my own palms rest flat across his chest, taking immense pride in the thundering of his heartbeat. I’ve missed this rush. The way my senses were heightened, my heart pounding, body fighting its every urge to climb him already, I was coming alive for him, I was waking up for him. He awoke a part of myself I’d already thought he’d taken away. 

We had to kick his belongings carelessly back inside, neither one of us wanting to be without the other long enough to be considerate. We slammed the door before he pushed me against it connecting our lips again hungrier than before but not less loving, not less sincere. I knew he wanted me, knew the kissing, the touching was turning him on, myself also, but it hadn’t diluted the purpose of the kiss, the reason we collided in the first place, he was as much in love as he was in lust, if not more. I could have stopped us within seconds if I’d not wanted him. He would have let me too. I didn’t want to stop.

I loved him with all my heart, even if I had tried convincing myself otherwise. I could allow myself this one night, this one slip up, hope that the altercations of my actions wouldn’t be too brutal, too painful to work through again. I could only hope. This wasn’t us getting back together, this wasn’t him telling me he was still in love with me, this was just us trying to work out our feelings, work out each other and use each other too. I’d accused him before of using me for song material, this was my way of using him for something too. Only where he’d share a song with the world, I’d never whisper a word of this to anyone, he meant too much for me to do that. 

“I missed you so much.” His hands were wrapped tightly around my waist, forehead right against mine, mouth hovering above my own. Ashton needed close proximity, needed to feel connected with you, thrived off of physical contact when he was heated like this. He wanted to feel me, breathe me in, be a part of me, if he were any closer, he’d already be inside of me, not that I could argue against that, I certainly wanted it.

“My room doesn’t even feel like my room without you.” I admitted quietly, biting down on my bottom lip while I awaited a response. His eyes were sympathetic, he’d shared my sentiment. “I tried to sleep on your side back home.” He moved his head away, turning his face to the side, sniffing, gaining composure before looking back at me again with a forced smile. “I don’t know how you sleep on the right.” He tried to laugh, but I saw the tears welling up in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to fight them. He could be as positive as he liked but not allowing yourself to cry only made it worse. “The right side feels better than the left.” I tried his technique, chuckling to myself. That’s when he finally let go. Tears trickling down his cheeks. 

I wiped them gently with the same care he’d given to me. I silently comforted him. Once again he showed me his human side, he could be vulnerable, he could allow himself to break every once in a while. Maybe if he’d have done that sooner he’d have been able to work through his creative ruts without damaging our foundations in the process. “I can’t believe I’m crying.” He smiled, rolling his eyes at himself. “I was just about to rip your clothes off and now look at me.” I tried not to let his words tingle between my thighs. “It probably wasn’t a clever idea anyway.” I found myself stroking his hair, even though I had to stretch to do so, it always soothed him. “That’s the thing though.” He sniffled. “I think you’re wrong.” I wanted to pull back, to roll my eyes, to tell him he was crazy for suggesting anything of the sort, he was just thinking with his dick, but I couldn’t, not while he cried.

“I’m not suggesting we jump back into things.” I felt myself itching to move away, to guard myself. I wasn’t sure which was worse, suggesting we get back together or the suggestion that we continue to see each other without even labelling it. “I just want you to consider it.” Is this why he really came here? Out of the blue, just wanting me back in any way he could get me. It had felt nice, felt lovely actually to be fought for, to be asked, but what would change for us? What would prevent us from falling apart again? Would I still ache when I thought of him? He’d left so easily the first time. Pulled away from me the moment we fought because he didn’t want to be causing me pain, despite him leaving which actually resulted in the most unimaginable amount of pain. I wasn’t sure if I could live through that again.

“I don’t know Ash.” I could sense his frustration; his fingers were already starting to patter across my hips. “I’ll think about it.” I would do that, I would at least consider his proposal, not just for his sake but my own too, I’d missed him more than I ever thought I would. “That’s all I’m asking.” He emphasised. I drew my face back, looking up at him, “pretty sure that’s not all you were asking for.” He started smirking, cheeks burning red again. “You’re hard to resist.” I snorted in response. “I’ve got bed hair and my oldest pyjamas on; I highly doubt that.” He glanced down at my outfit, briefly eyeing it before bringing his eyes to meet mine once more. “Rock it better than anyone else could.” It was getting increasingly difficult not to succumb to his charms. “Think they’d look better on the floor though.” He wiggled his eyebrows a little, how fast the mood had changed.

I decided not to fight any longer, embracing the fact I’d wanted him, and that this was far better way of communicating than talking. I lead him into my bedroom by the hand, almost as if it was his first time visiting it, even though that was the farthest thing from the truth. He’d spent days, even weeks at a time here before. We’d just coexisted so simply, it was hard to picture this place without him in it, even if that’s what I’d been doing for the past month. Somehow having him here again just erased the memory, like I’d never gone without him at all. He made up every single piece of this apartment, every piece of me.

We were nervous now we were in my bedroom. The lights were dim, we stood with a reasonable gap between us, just taking it slow, letting it all sink in. We were together again. It wasn’t the same though, he’d changed a little. His hair had grown, he’d gotten more muscular, I couldn’t deny that I’d noticed it and bitten my lip harshly when I had. He wasn’t the only one who’d changed though, he’d soon see that.

Ashton took a stride over to me, pulling my body into his, leaning his face down to kiss me. I returned his passion, pulling at his shirt, bringing him down to my level. I felt his hands linger over the bottom of my t-shirt, just fiddling, asking for permission. I nodded into his lips, letting him begin to lift it from my body, slowly up over my torso, his fingers brushing across my sides, sending goosebumps trailing over them. He took a moment before moving his lips away, just wanting to savour my kiss a moment longer, almost abandoning his project of undressing me in the process.

He eventually parted us. The shirt was thrown across the room and Ashton’s eyes had landed on my chest. He gasped, initially keeping his distance, admiring the new addition of the tattoo between my breasts. It was a simple design, a snake wrapped around the stem of a rose, almost a combination of two of his own tattoos, just in a finer print. He traced it with his fingertips, eyeing it carefully. He’d usually be ravishing my breasts by now, but he was so distracted, I might have to snap him out of it.

“If you don’t touch me right now-“ thankfully, he’d hushed me with his lips, his hands had finally cupped at my breasts, squeezing them firmly, before he pinched at my nipples roughly. I loved when he did that. Ashton slipped his tongue into my mouth as he continued to palm at my chest, giving me the attention, I’d been needy for. “Missed these so much.” He hummed, “missed all of you.” I sighed into his mouth, returning the sentiment, I’d missed a lot of him too.

I bit down hard on his bottom lip. The noise that escaped him went straight between my legs as I imagined it might. He combatted the action by running his hands back down my bare waist, towards my hips and the band of my leggings. He broke away from our kiss to lower himself onto his knees in order to pull my leggings down my from my legs. I stood shyly, focusing on the sight of him knelt down for me, looking up at me, hope in his eyes, lust in his eyes. He looked so beautiful while he was on his knees for me.

Ashton dragged his lips across my thighs and downwards, caressing the length of my leg as the material of my leggings dropped down to my ankles. Every piece of me he touched had been set alight. His hands felt perfect on my body, made for me even. He kissed lightly over my legs even as he guided my feet to step out of my clothing. Once I’d stepped out, both feet sinking back into the carpet, he reached his right hand behind my thigh and pushed forward pressing his mouth onto it, kissing it again, refusing to leave a portion of them untouched, unloved. The more he stroked at my thighs, the more he worshipped me above him, the more I lost composure, feeling my legs begin to wobble.

“Can’t stay still?” He smiled up at me, a genuine smile, before leaning his head against my thighs, taking a minute to breathe, to believe even, that he had me back here even if it was only temporary. He then started to recalculate, to decide how best to proceed, to shower me with his love but not where my legs would shake and buckle beneath me. “Want to get into bed?” He offered, leaning back, finding my eyes again. I nodded slowly before moving over, letting him guide me before taking a seat briefly before pushing myself back up towards the headboard where I’d waited for him to join me.

He’d removed his own clothes while I’d positioned myself, his cock not so subtly peeping over the waistband of his underwear, already hard enough to take me. Even though I was sprawled out naked for him, his eyes hadn’t wandered. He’d just kept them on my face, focused on me. It was as if he didn’t even need the rest of me, like it was never about my body, never just about sex, we were so much more than that and apparently he still felt that way, when he looked at me, eyes full of affection, a smile forcing itself onto his cheeks. Oh, how his dimples sank so deep as he smiled, and all for me.

I thought maybe he’d changed his mind since he’d taken so long to join me, seen that this was a stupid idea, only leading to complications. I went to reach for my duvet, attempting to cover myself before he seated himself down, just on the edge of the bed, his hands reaching out to cover mine as they gripped at the duvet. “I just want to be sure, are you sure?” It melted my heart that he even felt he had to ask. I wanted this just as badly, if not more so than he did. “I want to.” I said. “You’re sure?” He asked.

I thought about it, I thought very carefully, this was my last chance to back out, my final opportunity to gain some sense and prevent further complexity between us. I could probably back out further along the line if I wanted to, I knew he would never take advantage, probably stop before I’d even muttered the saying so myself, but I still knew that this was my crucial window to make my decision. Did I want to do this, to risk my healing process, to risk everything for him?

I leant forward slowly, seating myself on my knees, removing the gap between us. His hands flew to my hips, bringing my body over and onto his lap. He pushed his forehead into mine, resting there, letting my decision sink in. We stayed there for a short while, just relishing the closeness. It had felt so wonderful, so pure. I’d never felt so much passion before, never had such a burning desire,, a feeling as if I might actually die if he wasn’t mine again, if he left me again. I needed to tell him that, just how much I felt like I’d crumble if he left, but not now, no, not when this was so perfect.

He found his feet, standing quickly, arms still supporting me, a giggle escaping his lips as my legs instantly wrapped around his waist, my arms clutching desperately at his back. I knew he was strong enough to carry me but that hadn’t made it any less scary, I’d always panicked when he carried me, couldn’t quite trust him not to drop me, bet he’d giggle at that too.

Ashton spun us around before leaning down, pressing my back into the mattress, himself leaning firmly on top of me. It was exhilarating, like a moment in a movie, executed clumsily perhaps but still, quite attractively. He could throw me around anyway he chose to, and I loved that. I couldn’t resist his lips any longer, he needed to feel my need. I showered him with kisses, my hands cupping his face, adoring it. He scrunched up his nose at my attack, as if he hadn’t enjoyed every second of it.

“I will kiss you forever.” I panted. He smirked down at me, lips turning upwards. “Forever?” He had a hope in his eyes, my heart was racing. Ash pushed his hips into mine, no longer in the mood to talk but to prove his feelings, rubbing himself between my legs, providing himself some stimulation while I kissed him. He messily ran his hands over my ass, lifting my pelvis slightly into his, my back leaving the bed. He smacked hard and I teared my mouth away just to groan at it. He giggled, pleased with his actions. “Too much?” He checked. I shook my head. “Not enough.” I pecked his lips. “Never enough.” He almost growled.

He was evidently encouraged by my words, spanking me repeatedly before rubbing his calloused hands over the stinging flesh. Grinding against me even harsher. I was breathless. “Need you baby.” He brushed his lips against mine, humming softly, I loved how ready he was, pushing himself against me, so deprived of me. “Can I have you?” He was so close to begging. I nodded instantly, tangling my fingers in his messy curls before allowing him to retreat, standing vertically once more to remove his pants.

His hand carefully pulled at his cock, rubbing his precum down over himself, twisting his wrist subtly in the way that he’d always liked, slowly, painfully slowly. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand, he’d had such big hands, not big enough to hold himself though, not big enough to cover him in his entirety, I’d loved that about him. Somehow even with the filthy performance, my heart was full. There wasn’t a single part of him I didn’t love.

Ash now joined me on the bed, knees dipping into the mattress, his body slotting between my legs. It was finally happening. He leant over me, gently placing his left hand around my throat, my eyes nearly rolling back at the sensational amount of pressure he’d applied. He ensured my attention remained on him, drawing my gaze back towards his as he started to rub the tip of his erection over my cunt, he always loved to watch for my reaction when he entered me, always making sure we started off in a position where he could see my face, only being able to switch it around afterwards, once he was satisfied, his only demand.

When he pushed into me he grunted slightly, feeling the initial squeeze around him. “Oh.” I gasped. I felt so full, so incredibly full. He let a huff of air escape his lips as he tried to remain still, not moving his hips just yet, frightened to hurt me but equally overcome with the tightness constricting him. I was so appreciative of his thoughtfulness, his waiting for me to allow him to move. I’d been so distracted by the pulsing of his dick inside of me that I hadn’t even realised I’d deprived him of a ‘go ahead’ signal.

Ashton had tiny formations of sweat beading on his forehead as he held himself as still as possible. His chest was heaving too, a visible strain taking hold of him. I’d felt so cruel to make him wait for me. “You can move, you can move baby.” I stroked his cheek gently, sympathetically even. He let out a sigh of relief before carefully drawing his hips back then pushing them into me again, releasing a satisfactory moan while he did. His lips remained parted for most of his thrusts, unable to keep his breathing under control, gasping at the feeling of me.

I was in an equal position, nothing but heavy breaths and sighs flooding from my lips. He kept a slow pace for a while, grinding his hips into me while gripping onto my thighs, fucking into me deeply and precisely. “Feel so good around me.” I could only whine when he spoke. “Missed your pussy so much.” I let my hands grip at his hips, giving me something to dig my nails into when he switched up the pace. “Yes, yes.” I cried. He’d been so rough, so deliciously rough. He drew his hips back again, this time plunging back inwards faster and harder hitting a deep spot inside of me, I almost yelped. “So, fucking good.” I encouraged, pulling his body down, wanting him closer still.

His whole bodyweight was leaning over me. It felt magical. I’d clawed at his back, knowing just how much he adored the way my nails felt when they pulled at his skin. He loved to be scratched, the sting allowing him to feel more, always needing more. There was a beauty in the familiarity between us, in knowing exactly how the other needed to be touched. There was no trial and error, no instruction, just knowledge, just knowing the other’s body better than they even knew it themselves.

He knew that when he drew his body back, lowering my hips down onto the bed, and when he gripped my thigh, bringing it up over his shoulder, that I’d be losing all control, I’d be taking him deeper, scarcely able to take a breath for a fear I might get combust if I moved an inch. The angle was intoxicating, it always had been and once again he read me like a book, knowing me so well. “Still so good for me.” He tried to breathe steady as he spoke. “Body’s still mine.” I nodded pathetically even if it wasn’t even a question. I had only ever reacted to him this way, no one else.

He started pounding into me, rolling his hips with perfect synchronicity. It was still fiery, still passionate just giving more. We fucked hard, we always had. Much like with everything else he did, he found a rhythm to guide him, a melody, I was his song. I’d wondered if he even realised he was doing it, if he actually had a specific pattern he followed when he fucked me or if he was just subconsciously perfecting a beat and just did it the greatest amount of justice regardless. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was.

“Fuck, I can’t last much longer.” He shook his head as if to shake some extra stamina into himself. “Keep going.” I pleaded, surprised I was even audible at this stage, my verbal communication lacking with each shaking breath. He pushed on, eyes squeezing tight, creasing the skin around his eyes as he strained once again to stay calm. Just a little longer, I could feel the build-up, the coiling, the entanglement in the pits of my core. Ashton eyed me desperately, begging me to let him finish, falling to pieces as I leant my pelvis down further into the bed, allowing his cock to press upwards, finally rocking against my spot, applying an extra pressure I’d been lacking. He’d noticed it too, whimpering as I started to convulse around him.

“I’m going to cum, fuck, I’m-“ Ashton smothered my lips with his own as he rocked into me, releasing inside of me. His kiss was like a dream, I felt ignited, I felt alive, the way he had loved me, I’d never felt anything like it. I’d missed the way he painted my insides, filling me. His hips twitching and shaking, providing more pleasure for the both of us. “I’m sorry baby.” He lifted himself up, wiping the sweat off his face with the back of his arm. “I wanted to last for you.” He sighed, disappointed in himself, averting his gaze from mine.

I reached for his hands, covering them before speaking. “It’s okay, feels so good.” He had nothing to apologise for. He didn’t seem convinced. “I love you.” Was the first thing I thought of to comfort him. His neck nearly snapped; he moved his head so fast. He seemed unsure, maybe I’d just been saying it because I was caught in the moment, maybe it was simply just to ease his anxiety, but no, it wasn’t that at all. I had to say it.

I couldn’t bare the silence. I hadn’t needed him to say it back, I knew enough how he felt without him having to verbalise it. I wanted to change the subject. “Missed the way you fill me.” I caressed his cheek tenderly, considering the words were anything but that. He groaned; his dick twitching at the dirtiness of my comment, head dropping dramatically as he fought to stay relaxed. His hands slowly began to caress my thighs, now resting on either side of his hips. He didn’t have another in him, we both knew that, but that hadn’t meant he wouldn’t try for me.

“Want you to finish.” He said, starting to rock his hips agonisingly slowly into mine. He didn’t have to, I knew he was beat, exhausted from his orgasm. But he would never go down without a fight, never deprive me of my own ending, too considerate and maybe full of pride to allow that. “I know you’re close.” He edged me further, rocking at that same pace. He tried his hardest to prevent the shakiness of his hips as he pushed into me, I was well aware of his overstimulation, how it was weakening for him, how he’d wanted to buck his hips harshly from the sensation. His eyes were sealed shut as he focused, avoiding it, putting my needs well above his own. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

I started matching his thrusts, pushing my hips into him, allowing myself to do more of the work, hoping to provide him some rest, he’d been doing so well for me. I was thankful to have kickstarted my journey towards my finish, I’d started to pant, to sigh and grab at my own breasts, anything to push me along further, almost performing for him but equally doing everything for myself. I was shocked to say, I felt him hardening inside me again. “So beautiful.” He muttered, my back arching involuntarily, signifying my closeness, seemingly as a result of his words. “Feel what you’re doing to me?” I nodded, gnawing on my bottom lip, so close.

I allowed myself to open my eyes, fixing them on his. They were still tired, still dark, but they were soft, glimmering in the dim light. He was adoring me, thinking of only me, how only I could make him hard like this, how only I could take his size, his roughness. I was the only one for him. “Ashton.” I tried to moan, reaching my hands out to pull him down over me. “Ash, baby.” I sighed again. He nodded, letting me know I had all of his attention. I wasn’t sure why my heart had started to swell, why it had started beating harder and more efficiently than it ever had.

I wasn’t sure why I felt so speechless all of a sudden, perhaps fearing at first for the palpitations before ultimately deciding there was nothing to be afraid of, I was safe, perfectly safe with him. “I love you so much.” He confessed sweetly and honestly and upon hearing it I felt like I might cry again. I didn’t think he’d even say it back. Of course, he did. He did love me, I saw that in his face, in his actions. I thought of nothing but the love he had for me. We were far from fixed, far from healed but he did love me, and I felt that now more than I ever had. I finished hard and so soon after, collapsing finally with the realisation that his love was all I’d ever really needed. We’d been foolish to leave behind what we had.

He took the longest time to pull out. I hadn’t even wanted him to. I would have been satisfied if he’d stayed. I was obsessed with the feeling of him inside me, how it wasn’t intrusive at all but instead, entirely comfortable and a welcome sensation. I felt him squeeze my waist subtly, stirring my thoughts back over to him. “Hey.” I don’t know why I said it, I was feeling silly I suppose. “Hey.” He breathed out, a smile finding his features. “You okay?” He moved his hand, trailing his long fingers over my bare skin, dragging them across my stomach before rubbing shapes into the skin below my tattoo, clearly a fan of the new artwork. “Yeah, I think so.” I nodded. He let out a sigh, not in a negative way, it was more of a content sigh. “Can we talk?” I nodded again.

Ashton separated us, running quickly into the bathroom, grabbing some tissue to clean me up, refusing to let me do it independently before allowing himself to lie down beside me on the bed. The shift in the air was significant, it wasn’t a bad thing, but it was definitely noticeable, there was so much to say and such little time. His eyes kept scanning mine, before fleeting away, staring at objects of decoration around the room. I decided I’d take one for the team, putting myself out there, as if we hadn’t both just done that already.

I looked at him briefly before curling into his side, drooping one leg over his and one arm across his stomach. His lips pressed a sweet and lingering kiss into my hair. “What did you want to talk about?” I asked, barely above a whisper. Ashton’s hands found their way into my hair, performing a mixture of gently scratching and massaging my scalp and then combing through it. It was hard for my eyes to remain open. His fingers were heavenly

“I don’t think I can go back to the way we were.” You’d think I’d have panicked as he said that thoughts rushing to every possible conclusion, dreading for the worst, I was unnaturally calm. Perhaps it was the way his own heartbeat was steady, that’s why it hadn’t phased me, it hadn’t meant what it sounded like it did. “I didn’t know enough about what I wanted but I know now.” I just listened, I just let his words play over in my mind, peacefully bouncing from wall to wall, soaking in. He was right, we shouldn’t go back to the way we were, we weren’t open with each other, didn’t understand each other’s emotions in the ways that we should. We had to improve, or we’d never make it this time around.

“Can I stay? Is that okay?” He asked so shyly, perhaps because I’d been so quiet myself. I nodded tiredly, head still resting on his chest, enjoying the way his chest hairs tickled a little when I moved. He didn’t say anything else, just smiled, just looked at me, cheeks bunched up as his grin grew wider. I felt so relaxed, so at peace, I’d not felt so calm for weeks. He’d really been that missing puzzle piece for me. I hoped I was the same for him too.

“Let’s never break up again.” He giggled at his own stupid joke. “Oh yeah?” I perked up a little. “We should just get married.” I decided to play along with him. “Just drive me to Vegas in the morning.” He continued to brush my hair in one hand, while he used his other to talk. “I’ll pack the car.” When he laughed, his chest vibrated beneath me. “Should we have Elvis there or?” He gasped. “How can you even ask me that?” I nearly snorted with laughter. “What about rings?” I continued. He thought on the for a second. “You can take one of these.” He gestured to the 2 currently adorning his fingers. I felt a surge of happiness, even if it was all pretend, even if he didn’t actually want to marry me, the thought was very much something I’d loved to hear.

“You really thought this through huh?” He laughed again. I decided I liked the feeling of him laughing under me, it was such a small detail to enjoy, his laughter alone was one of my favourite sounds but feeling how his whole body was overcome with glee, that was personal to me. “Thought of nothing else for the last two minutes.” He stated proudly. “Should probably get back together first.” I moved my face, leaning my chin into his chest so I could look at him properly. He was pretty from every angle; I don’t know how he managed it. “So, the possibility of this ending here?” I knew he didn’t really need a definitive answer right now, that it was too soon to really judge the way things would  work between us with one night, but I wanted to give him something at least. “Slim to nothing.”

[scarlet-witxh]

Love Quinn NSFW Alphabet

AN: 18+ only, minors dni. mostly proofread.   This GIF.. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Shower first and then she’ll get you anything you need or want 

 ​​B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Love’s favorite body part is her mouth, she loves how she can make you cum so quick 

Love doesn’t really have a favorite of yours, she loves many different things about you, but if she had to pick one, she would say your neck. She loves how she can mark it up so people know you're her’s, plus she likes how well her hand fits around it

 C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

She loves when you cum on  her mouth, she loves tasting you and she’ll kiss you after so you can taste yourself on her lips

 D: Dirty Secret

Love’s always wanted to record the two of you and when she brings it up and you agree, she purposely is rougher so she can watch it back and see how wrecked you get

 E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Love has had experience and knows what she’s doing but there were times at the start of your relationship when she was a bit hesitant because she didn’t want to be too rough with you

 F: Favorite Position

You, on your back, while she fucks you with a strap on with her hand tightly around your neck, making you see stars

 G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.) 

Love is 100% serious, her main goal is making you cum many times and her only focus is you

 H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Love is well-groomed, she prefers to be completely shaven

 I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Sex with Love is not romantic in the slightest, the amount of degrading and choking and stuff that happens is far from being romantic

 J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Love would make you fuck yourself and just laugh when you ask her to fuck you because your fingers aren't the same and she’s the only person who can truly fuck you

If you two had to be away for any reason, she would send you videos of her getting herself off but she would tell you not to do the same 

 K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Degrading you is her favorite past time

Would 100% want to be called mommy

 L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

She doesn't care where the two of you are, if she’s horny, she will try to have sex with you anytime

She gets offended when you try to tell her ‘no, we cannot have sex in the middle of the grocery store aisle’

 M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Literally, anything you do is a turn on for her, you could be washing dishes and all Love can think about is bending you over the counter and fucking you

 N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

While Love does like inflicting some pain, she doesn't want to overdo it and hurt you very bad 

 O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Love prefers giving just because she loves looking up and watching you with your head thrown back and loud moans falling from your mouth as she fucks you with her tongue

Though when she is receiving, she likes to degrade you to make you work faster and harder to make her cum but the words get stuck each time she tries to say something because she’s too busy moaning 

 P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Defiantly fast and rough, she will slow and sensual on a rare occasion but its very rare that it’s anything but rough for sure

 Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Love is indifferent towards quickies, she’d rather be able to take her time to fuck you properly but she would never say no to sex 

 R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

Love is open to anything you bring up and will try it at least once and if neither of you like it, you won’t do it again 

  S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Love can go for 2-3 long rounds of fucking you 

 T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Aside from strap ons, Love has some blindfolds and handcuffs that get uses regularly 

 U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Teasing is her favorite thing to do

She loves hearing you beg and whine for her to just do something, its how she knows she has control over you

 V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Love can be loud, you two have gotten noise complaints before and Love being Love was purposely louder the next night to piss off your neighbors

 W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

Love gets jealous often so when she sees someone flirting with you, she keeps it cool but would invite the person back to your place under the impression of a threesome but instead, she would make them watch as she fucked you hard and would make degrading comments towards them, and would laugh at them for thinking they had a chance with you

 X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Some days, she will wear a strap under whatever she’s wearing and not tell you, she loves watching you realizes she’s packing 

 Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high, fucking you is on her mind 24/7

 Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

After showering and just laying there with each other, Love falls asleep pretty quickly

[mustardyellowsunshine]

@superpixie42 @pinestripes You both sent your asks within like a minute of each other, so I figured I'd answer you both simultaneously. 😁

Grief is Not Chronologically Correct is a weird one. It started as an experiment in form/narrative structure, and then it kinda got away from me. Basically it's a modern AU that begins with InuYasha's death; the story is told in reverse chronological order, so the rest of the fic moves backwards in time from there, and is from Kagome's perspective. Tbh I don't really plan to post it, even if I ever finish it. Since our beloved dog-boy dies in literally the first couple paragraphs, I don't think most readers would be interested in reading it. ^^; It also deals with the subject of sexual assault, so, y'know -- really cheery all around.

Here's a few random snippets from it, just for some flavor (cw: remembered sexual assault in the final paragraph).

2011: When his mother calls, you are standing in the grocery store holding a bag of turnips. “Kagome,” she says, “something happened.”

There is not a funeral, only an obituary in the paper. Matsumoto Inuyasha, 24.  It does not say how he died. It does not say that half his family is too indifferent and the other half too heartbroken to have a memorial service. It says he was a graduate from the University of Tokyo. He majored in Environmental Science. He loved hiking and martial arts.

You read it over and over again, filling in the missing pieces, redrawing the portrait into one you recognize. You imagine the long silver hair framing his face, the quick flash of golden eyes, how his frown was always quicker than his laugh, but gods what a laugh. You remember how the strength of his own limbs always seemed to surprise him. How he sneezed in quadruples. How he joked about living in the forest, but meant every word. How little he truly spoke his mind, and how often he grumped over what did not irritate him at all. When he was tired, vowels became long and slow in his mouth, almost like music. The notes he left in your books. How his voice gentled when he looked at you.

Take three days off from work. Spend most of it holed up in your apartment, watching the news and staring out the window. Across the world, war erupts in dry desert places. People are shot and mortared and burned, and yet still fight.

2009: Most days are a blur of paper-writing and the type of procrastination that involves beer and musicals. Your friends make plans for graduation. In answer to their inquiries, say, “I’m just trying to make it to the weekend.”

Koga, from your history class, asks you to coffee. He is nice. He smells like pencil shavings and laundry detergent. Look squarely at his collar bone and say, “No, thank you. I can’t.”

Inuyasha sends you a three-page letter. Display the first page on the refrigerator door, and when your roommate complains about it, say, “We need some comedy around here.” It begins:  My neighbor started exercising at home. This would be fine if he didn’t do it naked, and with his curtains open. I haven’t been able to eat dinner for a week because every time I pass the kitchen window I see his bouncing naked ass bent over a blue exercise ball.

That has to be the most effective diet plan in the world, you write back.

One day, after class, you follow professor Saito Kikyo to her office. She does not see you. As she sits at her desk, you hover just outside the door. Step forward once, twice, only to step back again, like a moth uncertain of a porch light. Finally, raise your fist to knock on the doorjamb. Change your mind. Before you completely withdraw, your professor looks up. “Yes, can I help you?” she asks. She sounds harried, preoccupied. Hesitate. Say, “No, sorry, I just got a little turned around.” Go home. When your roommate asks about your day, tell her, “It was fine.”  

2007: Afterwards, come back to silence so profound you can feel it swelling towards you, meeting you as both welcomer and jailer. 

It is three in the morning. Your roommate is gone and she did not leave a note. Walk to your room and close the door. Get in bed without taking off your shoes. As you stare up into dimness, you cannot stop over-thinking your body: every limb, all the expanse of skin, each twitch of muscle and rattling gulp of oxygen. It’s like examining, from within, another’s body. It is another body, you decide; a pitched tent, a temporary country. You are merely visiting.

Hours pass. Recall—again, again—the sting of fingernails digging into your wrists, the spasms of your arms and legs trying, simultaneously, to wrench free and shrink into the ground. You still feel the concrete pushing against your tailbone, the harsh breath against your neck.

For the rest of the year, hold shrapnel under your tongue where other people keep words.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

What you and the boys do on a day off | Dysfunctional Quartet HC | TFATWS Post Series

Link to series masterlist

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Bucky Barnes x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Helmut Zemo x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious)

On the rare occasions your little group gets a day off, you try to split equal time between the the boys. Sam usually has mornings, Bucky has early afternoons, and Zemo has the late afternoons with all you coming together (per your orders) in the evening.

For the early afternoons with Bucky, you two usually go out for lunch in the city your stationed. Since you guys are using the governments money, you tend to run up their bill because hey, why not. After you two eat sometimes you’ll go sight seeing or you take Bucky to a movie so he can catch up on popular films.

It’s nice and Bucky enjoys the time you two have because it feels like he’s living a normal life again like he used to, and for you it’s rewarding to see him smile.

Although he gets annoyed when you try to get him to ask out a random girl he’s checking out. It doesn’t help when you threaten to ask them out yourself and rub in his face that you’re the one who got the girl.

“Too slow, Barnes.” “Shut up, before I toss you over this bridge.”

The mornings of your days off are reserved for Sam, who’s goal is to get you to run out of breath by jogging five miles in the freezing cold or humid air. It’s good exercise, but you often regret getting out of bed and not sleeping in instead.

After y’all’s run, the two of you pick up breakfast at a small cafe which you often will get something for Zemo and Bucky to take back to the hotel. You guys like to talk, and often it entails telling stories of y’all’s childhood or fun adventures as adults. You like listening to Sam and he enjoys your company.

If you have time and the others are not up yet, you two will play cards or make use of whatever is available—maybe even watch a show on Netflix which then has you two hooked and threatened the other to not start the next episode without them.

“Don’t you dare finish this without me, Samuel, or I’ll disable your wings next time you fly.” “Same goes for you, Wiz.”

The late afternoons is around dinner time, and since you and Zemo are not allowed to leave Sam and Bucky’s sight your time is limited to what’s available in the hotel.

If you’re lucky and the suite/room has a full kitchen, then Zemo like to spend time cooking. With permission, you two will run down to a grocery store with either Sam or Bucky and pick out different ingredients. He’ll often ask you what you’re in the mood for, to get ideas on what to make. You’ll sit at the bar or on the counter nursing a cocktail he made you while he shows you how to cook various dishes. You’ll be his taste tester, which he is very grateful for.

Sometimes you’ll sneak down to the hotel bar if Sam and Bucky are occupied or asleep. You try not to get too drunk, because both of you need to be in the right head to get back to the room without causing a scene. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t.

“Shhhh, Zemo we have to be quiet or they’ll know!” “Darling you’re the one who’s being loud.”

The nights are when you all come together—because you force them too. It mostly consists of movie nights and cocktails, and eating whatever special meal Zemo has assembled with your assistance.

In the beginning, the three were reluctant to the idea and all seated away from each other when you sat them down to watch a random movie, but eventually you all fell into a routine. You alternate between who you sit next to or you simply take up a whole couch making them all squeeze together on the other.

It’s not very funny to them when it happens.

Sometimes y’all will play truth or dare, would you rather, or you download that heads up game on your phone and make them play. It gets really competitive too.

“How have you not seen Rush Hour!” “We haven’t gotten to buddy-cop comedies yet, Sam!”

And although none of them would admit it, they all rather enjoy it the days and nights you get off because they are able to spend time with their favorite vigilante who keeps them happy and carefree.

[bluesora]

celebrating mother’s day with you

tsukishima kei ; sugawara kōshi ; oikawa torū ; kita shinsuke

headcanon ; fluff ; age up ; snippets of cuteness ; parenthood ; special edition — mother’s day

note: i’m not sure if i portrayed each characterization well but i just thought it’ll be fun to write one. after all, i was blessed to be born with loving parents and i just wanted to share the love i’m grateful for.

tagging: @forgetou @amjustagirl @yacoka @haikyuutothetop @luvnami ;; thank you for dropping these characters as i couldn’t decide who to write for. (of course it was more exciting without context)

ps. it’s longer than expected i’m sorry :’)

tsukishima kei

tsukishima isn’t one who would remember special occasions unless someone had schedule a plan in advance with him. when he wondered if he should do anything for you after hearing his colleagues whispering during break, his work got busier than usual so he had forgotten about it.

that was, until he realized he had ten missed calls from his son; which was odd because he weren’t one to call him so often.

“i was in a meeting, what hap—” before tsukishima could finish his sentence, his son interrupted him, “i bought mom’s favorite cake since you’re slow. hurry home or there’s none left for you,” the line was cut right after; which of course left poor tsukishima’s partner to deal with the aftermath. “tsukishima-san, about the report—”

“it must be so urgent that it needs my immediate attention even when i’m packing up right?” his words dripped of pure sarcasm despite the polite smile hanging from his lips. everyone could literally see the panic swirling in his partner’s pupil.

“i’m sorry!! good work today and see you tomorrow!!” it’s the weekend tomorrow, but tsukishima was too hung up on his son’s attitude to shoot another of his sarcastic reply.

you, on the other hand, were neither someone who would celebrate such occasion unless it was for birthdays or holidays. therefore, you didn’t really had anything in mind nor were you expecting anything as well.

when you finally reached home from a tiring day at work, you were definitely not expecting to see your favorite cake on the table while your son popped a party popper with a party horn in his mouth right beside you.

“happy mother’s day!” he tried to mumble out with the horn still in his mouth. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected surprise, dropping your bag on the counter just so you could hug him—one that he wholeheartedly hugged you back because tsukishima wasn’t around.

it took an hour for tsukishima to be home, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand when he walked over to where you and the cheeky lad was sitting. “oh! you didn’t have to though,” you smiled in surprise.

“dad’s just guilty he forgot about our promise and didn’t want to come home empty handed.” you chuckled at that, perhaps it wasn’t entirely wrong either but you still appreciate the sentiment. it was rare for him after all.

“those who break promises don’t get desserts.” he continued to press his dad’s buttons, only to see tsukishima loosened his tie with an expression he could not understand.

“oh, but that’s on your mom to decide if i’ll get one tonight or not.” you could feel your face heating up at your husband’s words, the tone and smile that dawned on his face was a look you knew oh so well.

“tch...i thought i hid it well.” of course, your clueless son didn’t know the true meaning of those words and thought the strawberry shortcake he bought for his dad was found out.

sugawara kōshi

sugawara would definitely plan in advance with the children. especially when they were the ones who excitedly wanted to do something for you.

“mama like animals! lets go to the zoo!” the middle child exclaimed with so much enthusiasm, sugawara could only chuckle at her adorable smile.

“you only said that because you wanted to go to the zoo, dummy.” the eldest one huffed, feeling proud that he saw through her obvious tactic.

it didn’t take long for the two to start crawling over each other in a fight while the youngest one giggled amusingly as if she was watching a performance. that was, until an insult was thrown at her so she joined in the fight to prove her worth.

“if you don’t stop now, we’ll be celebrating at home like how we did the past two years.” that immediately ceased all action, since they haven’t had the chance to go out together as a whole family thanks to your busy schedule.

“how about the park? the cherry blossoms have bloomed and mama likes going to the park!” of course, sugawara was fond of this idea. it’s been a while since there was a family picnic session.

and so on that very day in which you finally managed to take a day off, you weren’t expecting to be blind folded while having your children guide you to wherever you were supposed to be.

knowing how clumsy the trio could be, he wanted to accompany them as well but was outright rejected when they said they could do it themselves with so much confidence, he wasn’t sure who they got it from.

with their tiny hands, it took a while for them to tie the piece of cloth around your eyes, and even when they did, it wasn’t tied well enough so you could actually still see your footing (which saved you immensely from all the accidental knocks along the way)

after what felt like forever, you finally reached the park where they shouted ‘happy mother’s day’ in unison. you kind of already knew it’ll be a picnic from the soft grass beneath your feet and those fallen pink petals, but you were still moved to tears when you saw your children squeezed together into your husband’s arms while cute decoration and plates of food were spread between you and them.

“mama, try the cookie first! i made them myself!” the middle one was the first to break the silence.

“no! try my sandwich first, i’m the eldest!”

“so what if you’re the eldest? mama must be thirsty from walking so have my ultimate happy berry juice!” the youngest chirped with pride, as if her logic was a straight pass to winning.

you laughed at their competitive nature, which was oh so endearing at the same time. and it was obvious if you don’t decide soon, an all out food war was going to happen.

“before that, shouldn’t mama receive papa’s present first?” sugawara’s cheerful voice interrupted their little argument, and just before the youngest could ask what it was, her eyes was covered by the eldest son along with the middle one.

you couldn’t help but hit his arm in embarrassment when his lips met yours longer than it should’ve been.

“hey! that’s not fair, i didn’t get to see papa’s present,” your middle one sulked, only to be carried into sugawara’s arms as he peck her little cheek with a wink. “why don’t you ask mama what it was, baby?”

oikawa torū

it was supposed to be a big surprise where he came home earlier than the date he had told you. he even told the kids about it and they promised to make it a success (money was definitely involved to be honest)

“make sure you delay mummy at the grocery store long enough for me to set everything up in time.” he reminded his daughter time and time again, only to have her sigh at his impatience.

“i think i’m old enough to not forget something so simple dad. and please stop addressing mom like that, it’s creepy.” she cringed, wondering how you even deal with oikawa every day.

“dad, have you even baked a cake before? do you think you can get it done within an hour or maybe two?” his son asked the third time that day, which did irk oikawa with that tone of his.

“of course i can! are you looking down on me? it’s just a simple vanilla cake and some fruits on top. how hard can it be?”

of course, with every rhetorical question that pose a challenge, there would always be an answer exactly of what’s to be expected.

you, with no idea that your husband was making a mess of your kitchen, took your own sweet time at the grocery store since your daughter was there to help and it’s been a while since you had a mother and daughter bonding time.

“do you think your dad would like to have curry tomorrow? or should we just have hamburger steak?” you asked, still unsure of the menu for a celebratory dinner.

“i think he would like anything you cook, so don’t worry about it. dad’s always so happy to eat your homemade meals.” she answered with shrug, but you could tell she was happy to rely the same sentiment.

everything went smoothly and she did managed to stall your time with her longer than the agreed duration. that was, until she received a text from her brother saying dad’s cake was a failure and they should just get one outside; you two were already at the apartment lift when she read it.

“dad, i think you should just give up. they are already walking over from the—” oikawa having enough of his son’s constant nagging about how he should’ve just bought a cake instead, threw a whiff of flour to his son’s face without thinking.

and of course, which kid would not retaliate from that. the kitchen, which originally wasn’t as messy, turned into chaos of white fluff and sticky childish banter between the two.

you, not expecting to see your husband, was clearly surprise when you heard his voice by the door. the only excitement that came from that vanished the moment your eyes fell onto the state of your kitchen.

“happy mother’s day?” oikawa managed to choke out when he felt your growing presence with each step towards him.

“i’m sorry mom, it was my fault please don’t kill dad—” your son pleaded softly by the side, only to fell speechless when you threw yourself into oikawa’s arms instead.

“welcome home,” you greeted with so much warmth, oikawa couldn’t help but embraced you tightly as he replied, “i’m home.”

“mom? you’re not mad?” your daughter asked in disbelief when she brought the groceries – including the ones you dropped – over to the kitchen.

“mad? why would i be when you dad’s sleeping in the kitchen tonight.” you were so serious and certain, the two broke into fits of laughter as they ran from their father (which was fertile because they got caught immediately and was tickled to tears)

“why are you laughing when you two are having a sleepover with daddy tonight.”

“please dad, just stop.”

kita shinsuke

there was no surprises because kita’s way of celebrating was just regular activities but doing it together. which was honestly, what you love to do most since you don’t always get the chance of spending weekdays with your family often.

from preparing meals to visiting town, usually it would be done by kita himself. however, this time because of the special occasion, you took time off to accompany your husband while bringing your little ones along with you.

“mama here’s the carrot,” your little girl placed the orange vegetable on the chopping board before humming a tune while the other twin helped kita with picking the ends of the beansprouts.

“papa are we going to town later?” she beamed excitedly, hands still working on the tiny vegetable while her legs swung to the rhythm of her twin sister’s melody.

“yes, we are. do you have a place you want to visit?” he was done with his side so he continued onto the pile his daughter was removing.

“yes! we want to go to onigiri miya!” they both said at the same time, giggling right after when their father looked surprise.

“all right, let’s go after our lunch.” and everything went along smoothly with the little twins setting the table together while you and kita took turns to cook up the dishes. lunch was pleasant despite minimal words being exchanged since the twins were taught to not talk with their mouth full (and their mouth are always stuffed full)

while you and kita held hands with the twins walking hand in hand by themselves in front, the feeling of nostalgia seemed to tickle your bones at the memory of how you used to take long strolls with kita during your younger days.

“what’s wrong?” kita tugged your hand gently which snapped you back to reality when you realized you all have reached the store.

“nothing...i’m just grateful to be your wife and mother of two beautiful angels.” your smile had him press a fluttering kiss to your temple as he softly replied, “me too.”

“i see yer two are still as lovey-dovey as ever captain.” atsumu popped his head out from the entrance, both twins sitting comfortably on his arms as he carried them as if they were feathers.

“i’m not your captain anymore atsumu, but i see they both seemed to like you.” kita smiled at his two lovely dolls, one that atsumu have never seen much of because of his busy schedule.

“of course, who do you think i am? the better—” but before atsumu could even finish his flex, the two snapped their head over at the appearance of osamu in his apron. their hands immediately reaching out for the man to hug.

“uncle osamu!!” they squealed happily, trying their best to squirm out of atsumu’s grip.

“i guess not huh ‘tsumu,” osamu smirked at the annoyed twin, patting his hands dry before prying the little twins from his brother’s vice grip. of course, they both would fight over the kid’s affection. who wouldn’t right?

you watched the pair of twins in amusement with your head against kita’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your delicate frame. this too will be yet another moment kita would not forget, for he felt blissful to be their father and your husband.

[myelocin]

synopsis: sakusa, the only constant in your life was the love that taught you two was enough. life, on the other hand, teaches you that in the unpredictability of things, a serendipity is bound to redefine the things you’ve considered as truth your whole life. 

characters: sakusa kiyoomi, you, +bonus character!

genre: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, domestic/firstlove to marriage au, parenting!au, mentions of adoption, tw//mentions of abandonment & death

wc: 6.5k

a/n: um so this was a plot for makki but i am a joke, so here we have sakusa once again, and no, for once this isn’t an angst. | playlist: symmetry (JT Roach) ((atm not that edited lol))

-

“It’s cold,” you say and Sakusa’s quick to wrap his scarf around your neck.

Each time he does, you consider it as a win. Sakusa was never one to particularly prefer excessive public displays of affection, but more often times than he’d like, you always manage to catch him in moments he was feeling a little more relaxed.

Autumn, Sakusa thinks just may be his most favorite season by far. Something about the chill in the air, slightly emptier streets, and the changing colors of the leaves did just the trick to make the lengthy walks from school to train station a little more bearable.

And of course, Sakusa smiles, another reason was you.

“It’s cold,” you’d tell him time and time again, especially during the final weeks of November where the last few leaves were threatening to fall as winter slowly rolled around. He knew you kept your own scarf tucked deep inside your school bag, under the notebooks where you scrawl some notes from the board in the margins at best, and beside the empty bento box that you always share with him during lunch.

But despite that, he’d only sigh before looping the dark green scarf he washes multiple times a week snug around your neck.

“You really need to start bringing your scarf,” he’d tell you, adding some comments as an afterthought that sounded more muffled under his mask, but you’d only beam at him in response.

You know he never minded.

And you’re glad he doesn’t—because after school walks with Sakusa Kiyoomi in the late autumn, who also happened to be your first friend and your first love, was your favorite perk in the season.

Sakusa, who you’ve known for most of your life. The kid from down the block who chose to walk around the rain puddles when everyone else around his age—at the time—only sought to hop straight into them.

“Why don’t you play in the rain puddles?” you remember yourself asking, opting to stand across him from the other side of the puddle as you watched him furrow his brows together and step away from the edge where water met concrete.

“I don’t want my grandma to spend extra time cleaning my rain boots,” was his reply, and you can still—to this day—recall the determined look on Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eight year old face as nodded his head at his own answer and moved even further away from the puddle.

The two little moles above his eyebrow looked like the connect the dots, well, dots, from your activity book back home and it was then that you decided to make it your mission to befriend the cautious boy who avoided puddles because he loved his grandmother.

And it worked, you suppose, because more than ten years down the road, instead of walking around the puddles on the pavement, you spend your afternoons either watching him spike through blocks after school, or like now—tell him that you’re cold, when in truth all you wanted to do was just be warm in his warmth.

“Did you change the fabric softener?” you ask him, smelling something like peaches and cream instead of his usual scent of fresh linen.

“I did,” Sakusa hums. “Do you not like it?” he asks, but doesn’t really face you. He faces forward and watches for the pedestrian light to flicker back to green, so he watches the number count down as he waits for your response to his question.

“I like it,” you smile, pushing the fabric up against your face as you hide your smile behind the scent of peaches.

“Ah, that’s good to know,” Sakusa replies, almost immediately. He thinks about the crinkled receipt from your favorite boutique at the mall sitting between the pages of his textbook and decides that going through the awkward conversation with the salesladies gushing about how sweet of a boyfriend he is, was completely worth it.

But more so, he’s almost glad that like the receipt you didn’t see—you also don’t notice the way he’s already smiling under the mask.

-

“It’s cold,” you tell him almost seven years later, the smile on your face still as teasing as before, as you wait for him to open his arms for an embrace this time instead of just the scarf from before.

Peaches, Sakusa thinks. Your hair still smells like peaches after all these years. On the other hand, he can’t really bring himself to mind; he thinks he’s come around to realize that peaches are his favorite flavor now.

“When are you not cold?” Sakusa comments, the tone of his voice sounding a little clipped, but you only laugh in return. Despite the bark in his voice, he tightens his arms around you as you glance up, peeking at him huffing clouds into the winter air.

“What time’s the bus coming?” you ask, breaking away from him and opting to hug him from the side instead. He still feels warm, so you smile and press your cheek against the sleeve of his jacket.

“In about ten minutes,” he answers. “Could be a while though, if there’s a lot coming on and off depending on the stop.”

“Wanna wait inside the café?” he suggests, motioning towards the one right across the street.

You shake your head, letting go of his arm and wrapping your hands around his midriff instead, saying, “I’m warm right now so it’s okay.”

Beneath his mask, he smiles—and looking at him, this time you could tell. You’ve been with him long enough to notice the way the corners of his eyes crinkle every time he smiles.

Sakusa realizes he likes looking at you like that, and the moments he shares with you after every time you say you’re cold are quick to become his favorite.

You, with your sheepish smiles, fruit themed keychains, and love for the autumn weather.

He smiles, watching you as you take the seat closest to the window first before quickly wiping the seat he’s meant to take with the disinfectant wipes you keep in your bag.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, feeling his heart warm even more when you smile at him.

For him, it’s not the way you remember the little things about him, but rather, it’s the unspoken way you go on about it. The almost natural flow you pulled him into, that he just knows you outlined with nothing but consideration.

You liked jumping straight for the puddles, but he preferred watching you smile with his rain boots dry. He knew you preferred to drink your coffee with a little more cream and sugar than he did, and even if he didn’t mind sweeter drinks from time to time—he always appreciates you asking how much cream and sugar he’d like for his regardless.

And it worked the same for you, you realize.

In silence, you notice how Sakusa always spends a second longer to look at you every time you pull out the wipes you keep in your bag just for him, and feel your heart warm when he laces your hand together afterwards.

You knew well enough that he preferred to keep his hands to himself, but the exceptions he makes for you were always appreciated on your end.

“I know I can be a little much sometimes,” he told you once, some years ago, when you were at the stage in your relationship where it felt safe to be with each other in complete vulnerability.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, because the truth was you really didn’t—and still don’t—mind. “You’re just a little more cautious than some, and that’s okay.”

“You being a little more on the cautious side isn’t all there is to you, Omi,” was the last thing you said as you cupped his face in between your hands.

And to this day, you don’t forget the way his eyes soften with the thanks he whispers as he turns his head and kisses you on the palm of your hand that night.

“We should make something for dinner tonight instead of eating out,” you quip next to him. You watch the people on the streets walk when the bus slows, and blur when it picks up momentum again. You hold Sakusa’s hand in between yours, absentmindedly playing with his fingers and the sleeve of his coat.

“Sounds good,” you hear him answer, before adding, “do we need to stop by the grocery store?”

You think about it, your eyes focusing on the child outside your window, lollipop in hand and a Totoro backpack behind him, as you mentally go over what you remembered what you saw in your refrigerator that morning.

“I think we’re all good,” you say. “But we can pick up some fruit for dessert?”

Sakusa doesn’t really think about it; he just nods. He could always go for some peaches, he supposes.

When the scenery outside begins to blur again, you turn to face his hand outstretched on your lap and begin to lightly scratch his open palm, then slyly look to the side where he’s facing you, watching for a change in his expression.

There isn’t one; if anything, he stares at you with his brow raised.

“Does it not tickle?” you huff, holding his palm open and tracing over the middle with the tip of your nails instead.

“No,” he answers and you huff, pursing your lips before you ultimately decide to just lace your fingers through his instead. Sakusa squeezes your hand when you slot yours on top of his, and you turn to him, smiling.

“Love you,” you say, and even if you do so out of the blue, Sakusa chooses to smile. With his other hand, he pulls his mask down and leans towards you to press a kiss on your cheek, noticing how the skin’s a little cold compared to his lips.

“Love you too,” he murmurs and when you turn to him and give him another smile—the one that’s wide enough for him to make out the crinkling lines on the corners of your eyes, an epiphany strikes him.

He loves you.

Sakusa’s struck with the epiphany that he’s never been more in love with you than how he feels in this very moment.

But he realizes a second later, that he’s had this thought before too.

Yesterday, when he woke up before you and the alarm and spent the seven minutes before 07:30 admiring how beautiful you looked with the spilled light highlighting the plains of your face. Last month, when he came home early from practice and watched you slightly dance off beat in the kitchen to the tune of a song he recalls you singing in the shower that same morning. Seven years ago, when he noticed you always packing an extra pair of chopsticks and pieces of fruit in your bento box for you to share with him during lunch.

Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that even if the two of you were nothing short of being the personification of oil and water, as time moves forward, he only spends the twenty four hours of his day unearthing moments with you where he feels his heart so full that it seems like he can’t love you any more than he does in the moment.

Looking down at your hands where your left is intertwined with his right, he smiles. Sakusa thinks of the ring he remembers you commenting was pretty when you were at the mall a few weeks ago. He imagines how your hand would look with the ring he knows he’ll buy for you.

Then when you squeeze his hand, briefly turning at him with a smile as you point at the child outside with raccoon-themed backpack, Sakusa feels a familiar warmth flood his chest as his eyes zeroes in on you as he feels himself smile.

He wonders if the smile you have now would look the same when you see the ring he’ll hold out for you when he does so with one knee on the ground.

And even if the ground were to have puddles that day, he supposes it would be worth it.

-

It’s three years later, after a breathless “yes,” tearful “I do,” and keys to your first house where he hears you say “It’s too cold,” again.

It’s the middle of the winter when you walk out the door, meaning to stop by the convenience store nearby when you make it outside the gate of your home and see a child standing outside with a dull gray backpack and while he wears a too thin cardigan.

Sakusa sets his cup down, looks at you frantically calling him to come to the door, and grabs his coat and scarf as he makes his way to you.

When he walks out of the door and makes it in front of the gate, he sees you, squatting a little awkwardly in front of the child—who doesn’t look to be more than the age of even five— stare at you with the grey backpack pressed to his chest and a slight tremble to his form.

He recognizes the look on your face—and he knows that right at this moment your heart is already clenching.

“Where’s your mama?” you ask with a voice as gentle as your approach, and Sakusa decides to sit this one out as he stands behind you instead, leaning against the opened corner of the gate.

“She said I have to stay here,” he murmurs quietly, and when his body trembles again, Sakusa feels his fingers itch to wrap the scarf around him. You’re right—it is too cold for a child to be out in a weather like this.

“Did she go somewhere? What about your papa?” you ask again, deciding to maintain your distance when the child in front of you begins to sniffle and tear up.

“I don’t have a papa,” he whispers, then sniffles again. “But I have a mama and she said she’ll be back so I’ll stay right here!”  he finishes, puffing his cheeks in what you think is an attempt to keep the tears together.

You look at Sakusa, who stares at you looking equally unsure with what to do with the situation, but when he notices that you’re at a point where you’re at a loss of words, he chimes in for you. “How long have you been out here?”

Smiling, you shift to the side and listen as Sakusa’s voice softens when he addresses the child again. He’d make a great father, you think.

“Here since…” the child trails off, then looks up when he remembers something. “—since after breakfast!”

Your brows furrow, and when you look at Sakusa, you notice that his expression mirrors yours. “Breakfast?” you hear Sakusa repeat, then look at the watch on your wrist. “It’s already five pm.”

“Have you eaten at all?” Sakusa instead asks him, and your heart can only squeeze again when he shakes his head no.

“You said your mama just went to the convenience store, right? I’m on my way to go there so if I see someone maybe it’s her,” you say and the boy finally looks at you like he isn’t scared.

“Can you tell me your name? So she can recognize who I’m talking about,” you ask him again and he nods his head slowly before replying, “Arai Kazue,” with a small bow afterwards.

You smile; he’s still polite despite being scared.

“Do you wanna wait inside? It’s warm, and this uncle—“ you pause, gesturing towards Sakusa, “—can cook something so you can eat.”

His eyes brighten for a second, before he looked back down towards his shoes. “What if mama is on her way back, I don’t want her to worry.”

You check the time, glancing up towards Sakusa who only shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll be quick then,” you reassure him, and he bows again after a quiet thank you.

Kazue shivers again, and before you could unwrap your own scarf, Sakusa is already squatting down next to you, wrapping the boy in familiar fabric.

“It’s cold,” Sakusa says, and bundles up the boy under more layers.

-

“She’s not at the 7/11, or the two Family Marts on the other street,” you tell Sakusa when you made it home.

It’s a little past six pm by now, and you’re at least thankful that your husband had managed to convince Kazue to wait for her inside after sticking a note outside their gate that would tell the mother—if she came—that he was inside waiting for her.

“Has he said anything?” you ask, and sigh when Sakusa shakes his head no.

“Do you think….?” you ask, trailing off and lowering the volume of your voice even more when you look at Kazue sitting in the living room, a bowl of ramen in front of him as he watches the television play a show you only skipped past in that respective channel.

“That she left him there on purpose?” he finishes for you, and you sigh, suddenly feeling like your shoulders are as heavy as the weight of the possibility in your husband’s words.

“Maybe,” you sigh, not really looking forward to uncover the truth because of all the red flags already popping up in the situation. “We should just call the police,” he suggests and you nod in agreement, deciding that for the moment that really was just your only option.

The maybe, you referred to moments ago was later confirmed to just be the case because when Kazue later opens his backpack to show you the superhero he drew last night in his drawing book, a letter tumbles out before the book.

“Can I take a look at this?” you ask him, holding up the folded piece of paper with writing that clearly didn’t look like his, and he nods, before turning to face Sakusa as he flips through the pages of his drawing book.

You meet Sakusa’s eyes midway, and he nods for you to read the contents of the letter before he faces Kazue again, expression knit together like he was leaning something new.

“I’m sorry,” it reads, and it isn’t specifically addressed to anybody. “I can’t take care of him anymore,” it continues and your heart practically drops as you continue to skim through the sentences forming one after the other.

You notice the lines on the paper are smooth instead of soft; not a crinkle in the edges, or smudges on the ink. She’s been planning this, you notice, and when you look at Kazue who beams at Sakusa’s patient smile, your heart clenches even more.

“I know you and your husband haven’t had a child yet, and I don’t know if you’re even trying for one, but I know the both of you will be well enough to take care of Kazue.”

“I have no one else, and when I leave, he will have no one else.”

“He’s a kind boy,” it reads towards the end, and this is where you notice the strokes of the letters beginning to look a little more inconsistent.

“He eats his vegetables well, and he listens to his elders.”

You think about the empty bowl on your sink and remember Sakusa’s comment about how surprised he was that a child at his age actually managed to finish the variety of vegetables he knows even adults have trouble keeping down.

“I know I’m not in a good space to take care of him like he deserves, and I’m at a point in my life where I can’t continue,” you further read and your stomach drops when the next line ends.

“If you accept him, thank you, but if this situation just happened to burden you, then I’m sorry.”

Sakusa looks at you when you fold the letter back and choose to keep it in your hand instead of tucking it back into Kazue’s backpack. The zipper’s ripped off, you notice, and the straps look as worn as the scratches on the front pocket.

They must have had a tougher life, you think, and when Sakusa looks at you looking like he’s waiting for answers, you stay quiet because you don’t really know what to say.

By the time Kazue’s asleep in the guest room of your house, first you think about how plain the covers of the guest bed look next to the opened drawing book laid at the foot of the bed, all the colors of the rainbow looking like life against the white sheets behind it.

Then second, you think about the officer’s words that’s still ringing in your ear.

“We found a body by the river,” he said. “We recovered a wallet with a photo of that boy inside,” he continues, and it’s 01:09 in the morning when the weight in your heart overwhelms you and you finally begin to cry.  

-

Much like the both of you expected, the weeks after that day didn’t come easy. Kazue, much like his mother said in the letter, really is a kind boy. He listened to his elders and patiently waited for them to finish speaking before he added some comments of his own.

Even as you watched him listen to the officer scramble for words to explain the reality of his situation, he told them thank you for finding his mama before turning around and crying.

The investigation happened quickly, and it surprised you when Sakusa was quick to offer that Kazue was welcome to stay in the house during the process, seeing as none of the extended family members the police reached out to bother to respond.

“Are you looking to adopt?” was a question the officer automatically asked, and you could feel Kazue’s form stiffen in between you and Sakusa.

“We can take care of the costs for her funeral,” Sakusa instead replies, and when the officer looks at you in shock at the offer, you only nod your head.

“Thank you,” Kazue later says in the car ride home. He’s quiet afterwards, and Sakusa chooses to leave the car in silence as you continue to drive through the city, choosing to stop by the bakery on the way home to buy the cupcakes you saw doodled in the margin of Kazue’s sketchbook.

“What kind of cupcake would you like, Kazue?” you ask, turning around as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

He perks up in his seat behind you, fiddling with the buckle of his seatbelt as he puffs his cheeks and tells you, “It’s okay, I can eat whatever you pick.”

Sakusa beside you softens, then says, “You should go in with her so you can see what they have and pick out the one you like the most.”

“Can I?” he asks, looking at you, and you smile, slipping on your scarf as you push the car open. “Let’s go,” you call and Kazue clicks the buckle of his seatbelt, following in your suit.

“Make sure to put your scarf on,” Sakusa reminds, gesturing to the scarf he bought for him that morning. Sakusa smiles when he loops it around his neck, counting to three just like he taught him earlier, and tells him thank you, before opening the door and grabbing your hand as you walk to the entrance.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, Sakusa lets himself sit for a while in the moment. For now, the heater in the car feels warm against his skin, and the smile on Kazue’s face as he grabs your hand and walks into the adequately lit bakery is bright. Then he looks at you, soft smiles and patient eyes as you hold the door open for him to walk through.

Sakusa thinks it kind of looks like home.

-

“What’s gonna happen to him?” you ask Sakusa a week after Kazue’s mother was laid to rest.

You sit in your side of the bed, keeping your voice hushed despite Kazue staying in the room on the other side of the house. Sakusa walks out of the bathroom, grey sweatpants and a plain blue tee on, before he takes a seat on his side.

He thinks back to the boy, at how red his face looked as he cried into your shoulder while you carried him back to the car after the burial. Then, at the drawing of the three of you Kazue shyly presented during dinner earlier that night.  

“The police are probably coordinating with the people that will take him in,” he answers you after taking some time to think about your question.

“Didn’t none of the relatives call back? And isn’t his father already gone too?”

“Yeah,” Sakusa sighs, pressing his fingers to his temple, choosing not to look at you when he notices the urgency your tone gives away. In a way, he already knew of the question you were unintentionally leading up to.

“Kazue will probably be in foster care or the orphanage,” Sakusa finishes and beside him, you feel your heart already drop.

“Is the system going to be good for him?” you ask, turning your head so that your eyes meet Sakusa’s profile.

“I don’t know,” Sakusa answers, and truthfully, you aren’t even certain yourself if you want to know the answer.

“He’s just a child,” you say and Sakusa looks at you, sighing before he nods his head.

“Too young,” he murmurs and with that you put the book down and shuffle closer to him, watching with baited breath as you spill the thoughts in your head.

“Should we take him in?” you say quietly, and Sakusa’s eyes are quick to meet yours upon yours words.

“You mean adopt him?” he says a little quietly, the hesitation in his voice being the first tone you automatically pick up.

“I don’t want him to feel like he’s going to be left behind again,” you answer, truthfully, sighing as you recognize the undertone in your husband’s voice. Sakusa, for as long as you knew him was a man who practiced caution.

He was, is, and judging from this moment, will always be the one in the relationship to heed to practicality and reason instead of just flowing with the current. Like you’re doing now, you suppose.

“He’s been with us for less than a month, (y/n),” Sakusa tells you, his reminder not more than a whisper and it’s the softness and truth in them that finally gets you to see things from his perspective.

“The world is going to break him,” you say, and when you think back to Kazue smiling at you as he tells you thank you for the cupcakes you buy every other night—that’s when you finally feel the sadness spill from your eyes.

“He’s a kind boy,” Sakusa whispers when he opens his arms and lets you crawl into his side. “He’s tough enough to get through things.”

“The world isn’t kind,” you mutter against his chest, and despite Sakusa rubbing circles on your back to soothe the cries, he feels like he’s still at a loss for words.

Then when he goes to sleep that night, Sakusa dreams of empty sketchbooks and thin cardigans in winter weather.

He ceases to find rest that night.

-

“Why don’t you go out and play with the others?” you suggest, leaning down to Kazue’s height as you point to the playground not too far off. “Uncle Omi and I will be able to watch you from here.”

Kazue looks at you like he’s unsure of what to respond, then for a second lets go of your hand before deciding to reach forward and grasp it again.

“Last night was too rainy,” he says and you look at him, confused. Sakusa, beside you, does the same.

“Too many puddles on the ground,” Kazue explains, then looks down as he rocks himself to and fro with the balls of his feet. You smile; Kazue looks as cute in the yellow raincoat and matching rain boots Sakusa bought for him as he does wearing the raccoon themed backpack he shyly pointed to at the mall some days ago.

“Of course there are puddles, Kazue, it was raining last night,” you smile, letting go of his hand as you walk forward and lightly hop in the puddle.

Sakusa smiles as he watches you—it kind of feels like he’s looking at a page in the past.

But beside him, Kazue isn’t. Instead, he walks towards Sakusa and holds onto the edge of his coat as he continues to shake his head no.

“I know that Uncle doesn’t like when the things you have are too dirty,” Kazue begins; beside him, Sakusa looks down, eyebrows drawn together.

“He bought me these nice clothes so I don’t wan’ to get them dirty,” he finishes, smiling at Sakusa when he looks up at catches his eye.

“Thank you!” he says again, and you watch, with your heart somewhere between bursting and melting as your husband wordlessly ruffles Kazue’s hair and holds out his hand for him to take.

Your heart hurts, you realize. Because after today, Kazue would only be a name you’ll relate to your past.

“You’re going to a new home,” you had to explain to him slowly, and it hurt to tell him that because in the guest room—no his room—that he’d been staying at, were the drawings of the superheroes you’d listen to him talk about night after night, portraits of smiling faces he said were of you, Sakusa, and his mother stuck to the wall behind his bed.

For the month he’d been staying with you, the “Tadaima,” you or Sakusa would call out when you arrived would be answered by Kazue’s quiet “Okaeri,” as he met you by the genkan.

“A new home?” he’d asked, and while you excused yourself to allow for Sakusa to explain the situation, you listened from the other side of the door with your hand shaking over your mouth.

“You’ll meet your new parents that way,” Sakusa explained, his voice sounding like he was in between uncertainty and despair.

It wasn’t easy, you think, telling a child who was abandoned and lost his mother in the same day that he’d be going back somewhere unfamiliar again—but you suppose between you and your husband, Sakusa was the one better suited to explain the situation.

“I know they won’t be new parents,” Kazue replied and as you peeked back in the room you see Sakusa staring at him with wide eyes as a silent response.

“They’ll just take care of me for now, and that’s okay. I’m still lucky,” he finishes and the conversation ended just like that.

“He’s gonna be okay,” this time you tell Sakusa as you notice his expression shift in time with his hand ever so slightly tightening around Kazue’s.

You notice everything. Sakusa’s conflicted, much like you were—still are—but this, this was the best you could do for him.

Having kids was never included in you and Sakusa’s plan from the start. Life before, with the two of you had always been enough, and while the two of you never let go of the insatiable hunger for life—you knew that your thirst for it would be quenched with just the two of you.

Until life, ironically the very thing you were chasing, decided to give the both of you something it knew you would flow with.

“Always remember to bundle up, okay?” you remind Kazue when you make it in front of the entrance with who you assumed to be the caretaker standing by the door. Sakusa watches Kazue watch you, the boy’s happiness spilling as warmth into his cheeks as his lips break out into a smile as he nods along to your reminders.

“Thank you,” Kazue says again—and Sakusa internally tries to recall the amount of times he’s said his thanks to the both of you that day. He loses count after he hit fifteen.

“I won’t get these dirty because I’ll take care of them,” He tells Sakusa, gesturing to the things he has with him then gives him a smile when he squats down and faces him eye to eye.

Then when Kazue puffs his cheeks and leans forward wrapping his arms around Sakusa’s neck for an embrace, you watch, feeling the familiar throb of your heart return tenfold. You meet his smiling eyes as he opens them, and when he stretches his hand out for you, you squat down behind Sakusa and kiss Kazue’s forehead.

“Be kind, okay?” you tell him and he nods his head, the smile on his face never leaving.

Sakusa stays still, only moving when he feels Kazue part with him.

Cold, Sakusa thinks, he feels a little cold.

And it’s only thirty minutes after walking into Kazue’s new “home” where Sakusa feels the chills run through him again. He’s watching Kazue be introduced to the new children in the living room with you beside him, the caretaker’s words coming in one ear and floating out the other in seconds.

The guest room, or Kazue’s room as he thinks of it, will still have the drawings he pinned to the wall behind his bed when he comes home. He thinks of the totoro themed comforter you bought for him and the fact that it will still look as neat as Kazue left it earlier that morning.

His mind plays back dinner from the night before, and how warm his home felt when the three of you ate the dinner he cooked with the too many vegetables on the side, then laughed over the smudged chocolate frosting that you wiped on the corner of his lips as Kazue smiled at you both.

The room he sees him standing in now feels cold, and when he sees Kazue shiver and clutch the raccoon backpack to his chest he feels like the very same scene from the month before is replaying right in front of him.

Sakusa thinks he hears your voice, when you tell the woman that’s been explaining the process next to you for a little over twenty minutes now say “thank you,” and “we’ll get going now,” register in his head before he feels his feet already taking strides for him.

“Kazue,” Sakusa says, and when the boy turns and looks at him, that’s when he notices how quiet the room’s gotten.

From your spot, you look at him, unsure of exactly how to proceed because Sakusa—if anything, was never as unpredictable as this.

“We’re going home,” you hear him say, and your grip on the strap of your bag tightens.

“Home?” Kazue echoes and Sakusa’s heart clenches when he hears the yearning in the boy’s voice.

“Yeah, we can have dinner again, like last night,” you listen to Sakusa say, and your heart is suddenly overflowing with everything you’ve held back. Sakusa’s smiling again—and you know his heart is in the same state, because his voice softens even more.

“Just for tonight?” Kazue asks, a little unsure.

“Every night,” Sakusa answers, and just like that you know that when you go home that night—you truly will be home.

- “Mama, you really need to wear a scarf,” Kazue huffs as you walk with him to the entrance of your front door.

You nod at his words and wave him off with the yes, you’ve been responding to his every reminder for the past twelve years now. Kazue—your son—looks at you with the same softness in his eyes as ten years ago when he finally made it home.

“I’m serious,” he laughs, before leaning forward and letting you fasten the buttons on his winter coat.

Kazue grew up, with the roots of his personality remaining unchanged. He’s a kind boy, you think to yourself every day. When he turned seven and made Sakusa wait in the car so he could help the grandmother cross the street. When he was ten, and somehow persuaded your husband to let him keep and nurse the stray cat from your neighborhood back to health. And at seventeen—the now, as you listened to him talk about how he was going to lead his team into nationals.

“You remember what your dad told you?” you ask, smiling as he nods and points to Sakusa from inside, hollering “thanks dad!” with a laugh.

“I’d say I have the perks of having a national athlete as a father, but really, dad’s just that good of a coach.”

You smile, leaning to the side as you hear Sakusa’s footsteps grow closer and closer until you felt his presence right behind you. Leaning back to his chest, you kiss his jaw as a hello, laughing when Kazue groans at the “PDA”.

“We’ll make it to your game later, but have a good time in school,” you hear him say and Kazue nods as he fastens the zipper of his bag and waves at the both of you.

“Love you!” he calls out, walking down the steps and out the gate.

“We love you,” you murmur, your heart filling with the familiar sense of pride as you watch him leave, his dad’s jersey number on his back.

“It’s cold,” Sakusa says, then kisses the crown of your head when you turn to face him. “We should head back inside.”

Smiling, you tug the blanket closer to yourself as you answer, “It’s alright. I think I’ll stay here a bit.”

“Something on your mind?” Sakusa asks, closing the door behind him and taking a seat on the bench beside you in your front porch. Like habit, he takes the scarf from around his neck and loops it around you with a smile, ignoring the way you pat his wrist as if to tell him don’t bother.

“It’s cold,” he laughs, and you roll your eyes knowing that he mostly does it now because of the sentiment it holds for the both of you.

“Home always feels warm, though,” you answer, and Sakusa only nods at your words, the corners of his own lips stretching into a smile like yours.

“We kind of went off the plan we originally had,” you laugh after some silence passed.

“Do you regret it?” he asks, tone even because he already knows the answer to the very question he posed.

“Of course not,” you smile. “I knew we never planned on having kids of our own, but Kazue’s a blessing.”

“He is,” Sakusa replies, smiling at the thought of his son.

His son, he likes to think of it. The memory of Kazue calling him dad for the first time never fails to make warmth spill from his heart.

Watching the smile bloom wider from his profile, you clasp your hand over his and watch as the light from the winter sun catches the band on his left ring finger.

His ring—the one matching the one on your left remained the same, and while your thoughts of the future are completely opposite to the ones you envisioned from before—you realize that this was the grand plan from the heavens all along.

And there isn’t one thing that you’d change about it.

So when Sakusa looks at you, saying, “We did good,” the happiness in your heart overflows and spills into your cheeks as tears.

“We did,” you respond, the sincerity in your voice assuring Sakusa that you really, truly do mean it.

-

[kkusuka]

hi <3 I saw this on tiktok and it was Haikyuu boys who would fake bang you whenever you bent down so can I have headcanons of which Haikyuu boys you think would do this? <3

OH MY GOD ANON YOUVE READ MY MIND. I MUST FIND THIS TIKTOK

and of course, there are literally so many of them that would do this, it’s almost ridiculous.

--

Atsumu Miya

He takes it as serious as nationals 

You could be across the cafeteria and he’s sprinting towards you

Anything for the bang 

He would give an arm to fake fucking bang you

Ass to hips, ass to hips, ass to hips 

It never stops at just that does it though? 

Oh no, never with Atsumu

Every single time  you crouch down to tie your shoes

He’s right there grabbing your had and pretending like he’s fucking your face

A habit, as annoying as it is, just makes atsumu atsumu, and you love him

Osamu Miya

He shares DNA with atsumu

That's all that needs 

But with Osamu it was slow build up to full on fake banging you

It began with him just watching your ass as you bent down

Second was the reaching and rubbing circles on your ass

then came the ass slapping, HARD ass slapping

And it slowly it evolved into getting up and just grabbing your hips

And now he just goes for it 

You know it's coming too

Sometimes he doesn't move his hips, he just lines his dick up with your cheeks and just stands for a second. 

Futakuchi

He likes to humiliate you

Well that's what he tells you, you just think he likes to have his hands on you

He’ll do it in front of your parents too

This man has absolutely no chill whatsoever

It doesn't stop at the fakebanging, (does it ever) 

(no, the answer was no) 

When you bend over he’ll shove two fingers into your crack, and he spares no strength with it either

Why are you dating this man???????

Oikawa

He’s just horny 

And kind of an asshole

He is also awful at making it happen

He just not fast enough to get there

But when he does he makes it worth it

He stands behind you and has his arms up like killua 

And he literally bangs his hips into yours 

Then laughs if you fall down, again why are you dating this man? 

Tendou

He’s done it when you were just friends too

He makes a whole scene too

He grabs your hips throws his head back and moans as loud as he can muster 

And he’ll take a minute to just bang his hips into yours

And he’ll just come up to you and bend you ever to do it

Literally in the middle of the hallway or the grocery store

It's a whole performance to him, go big or go home 

Lev

He saw someone else do it

And now  he can't stop

It's like an addiction

He is not smooth at all

Lev will be laughing the entire time and his bangs will be messy

It’s a joke to people around you

But he really really really likes to do it 

Kuroo

Horny MF

You bending down? 

He’s already behind you 

BUT that's not the horny part

He puts a hand on your back and makes you arch

Then he gets banging

Your never alone when you bend either

It's like a primal instinct , he feels you bend down he’s there

This is not really associated but i feel like kuroo would sit in a chair, seat you in to and just grind

(i’m sorry i had to get that out) 

Bokuto

You cannot fight me on this

Bokuto is secretly VERY horny

And he clearly likes touching you, so when you began to date this was a total given

He’ll grab you and just have at it 

He main goal is to make you squeal

It makes him happy when you do that because it makes him feel like you enjoy it too, which you do

And don’t lie about it, we all want to experience that

Suna

started as a joke

The twins did it, so he did

And now he just waits for you to bend over

Its the fastest people ever see him move

He’ll leap up and try to hold you there so he can do it

He’ll change tempo too

He’ll go slowly, then faster, then slow again

It takes minutes for him to get over all of this 

He usually only does it at home but if he’s the mood he’ll do it anywhere

Just for not as long 

Semi

any opportunity to touch your ass

And i mean it 

He see an opportunity and takes it 

No matter the setting, the entire team knows about this infatuation at this point 

Let's be real the whole school has seen him do this to you

Any slight angle of your back and he’s on you

He’s also a hip  grabber, BUT

Instead of his hips moving

Sometimes he’ll pull your ass into him

Terushima

He’s also a moaner

“Ah ah ah” in rhythm with his hips 

Or just a loud “god”  

You guys can just never fake bang in peace 

He is very versatile with his methods 

He’ll do the tik tok f-boy body roll right on you

He also sticks his tongue out when he does it 

(tongue tongue tongue) 

Noya

Horneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

He is not a hip grabber

He is a waist grabber, and he pulls you into him

He has an entire ritual for it 

You bend

He grabs 

He pulls

Then he laughs and lets you go <3

Has no shame with doing in in front of anyone 

Sometimes he’ll moan, just depends on the mood

Tanaka

Part of the moaner club 

He makes his short time worth the ass

He’ll yell “bang bang bang” 

God he went all out the first time too

And from then on you knew your life would be filled with obnoxious “bangs” and hips slamming onto yours

Iwaizumi

 likes your ass

He really really likes your ass

But he won't do this all that often, he does it as much as he can without looking like a total perv

But if your within reach and bending over he’s on you

Sometimes he’ll grab your hair and pull it, like you two are really banging

This has gotten you in trouble more times than you could count 

But hey, if he’s wearing sweatpants, you can feel his v-line

Or if he’s hard, yk, you can feel his dick

Komori

I will take no objections

Komori is a secretly horny boy

Well, actually, he started it to make fun of sakusa, then he just had to do it more and more

now its a habit he never wants to shake off

He just does it for fun, just a bit less serious than the rest of the list

He just loves when you're near him

extra for this bby:

Kyotani

He really wants too

Like so so so badly

Your ass looks so perfect and he wants to touch it as much as he can 

But he’s just too awkward to figure out a good way to do it

Poor bby is too awkward :(

He just suffers in silence. 

[sallysgrancanwrite]

Chapter One

Chloe was a beautiful woman. In fact it was amazing she wasn't married already. She had long auburn colored hair, that she often wore up, because of work. Her eyes were a deep blue and twinkled when she smiled or laughed, which was almost always. She was average in height, maybe 5'5 and was small.

She worked at Gramma B's Cafe on the West side of Maple Falls, South Carolina. It was a small town and everyone knew everyone. Sometimes that could really be a pain in the ass, but most of the time the people here were wonderful and Chloe wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

There was Sam Jefferies that ran the local garage. If you fall on hard times, he's your guy, he will always work with you. There is Martha and Stan Smithfield who run the grocery store as well as the convenience store. They're a wonderful couple. They are an older couple that never had children but have always put money into the town's youth programs. The B&B is run by two sisters, Hannah and Georgia Aldermen. Sweet ladies who never had the desire to marry.

It was a town that waved when you drove by, said hi when you walked by. The ladies talked gossip in the beauty shop run by Luanne, or as everyone called her LuLu. As for the older retired men there was the front of the old Hardware Store run by Curtis McGovern. The old men would sit for hours talking about the old days, politics and how this Country is going to hell in a handbasket. Life was pretty slow in Maple Falls. Nothing moved at a fast pace. It was quiet until Football season anyway. Everyone rooted for their Hawks.

Chloe wasn't really into football. She would rather curl up with a book or watch an old movie. She dreamed of finding someone like Clark Gable or Humphrey Bogart. Her parents wondered if she would ever get married. John and Betty Harman only had Chloe. It had been a tough pregnancy and a hard labor, a premature birth. Betty was never able to have children again. Needless to say Chloe got almost everything she wanted. There were limits, her parents were still strict and weren't afraid to say no.

Chloe loved her job at the Cafe. She got to talk to the town's people and see how they all were. They all loved her. She was a bright spot in everyone's morning, and her smiling face and happy disposition made getting the day started a lot easier. She rarely had a bad day, or wasn't smiling.

As much as she loved her job she didn't enjoy always being set up on blind dates. She could say no, but the older folks meant well and she didn't want to hurt them. Bob and Edith Coleburn were one such couple. They insisted that their son, Tom, was a perfect match. After being asked over and over she agreed to have dinner with him. It was awful.

"So Chloe, you're a waitress? How well is that as far as income and paying the bills?" Chloe was stunned. Why would he want to know that? It's personal information.

"Yes Tom, I’m a waitress. As far as my income, I do just fine paying my bills."

"Oh please, don't take the question wrong. I guess my parents didn't tell you, I'm an accountant and I have a bad habit of talking taxes with people. I apologize.” He ordered them white wine and a plate of lobster and crab. It was a good thing I like seafood because I was not consulted, thought Chloe. Then he proceeded to talk about…yep, taxes and money the rest of the night and drank himself silly.

Chloe drove them to her place. He managed to walk to the porch. "How about we go in and have a nightcap?" That's all he needed was another drink. Chloe walked him in, sat him down and called his parents to come and get him.

"Oh Chloe, we are so sorry about how he has behaved. Won't you give him another chance?" Bob and Edith both looked at her so sweetly that for a minute Chloe almost gave in. But no, she couldn't go through another date with Tom.

"Edith, Bob, I love you both but Tom and I are just too different. We didn't click. I'm sorry."

Edith quickly gave her a hug. "Don't worry about hurting anyone's feelings darling. You have to do what makes you happy. That's all we want or have ever wanted. When your parents passed away in the car crash, and we took you in, we made a promise that your life would be a happy one. Eventually you will find Mr. Right."

Tom was already grown and in the Marines when Chloe's parents died in that horrible car accident. A drunk driver crossed the line and right into her parent's vehicle. The only relief, if there was any, was that they died instantly and didn't suffer. Chloe was in High School by then but Edith and Bob took her in and helped through her last few years of school. She didn't have any other family so they became family. Tom was a nice guy, but he definitely was not her type. Accounting and numbers were not her thing. She was known to make a complete mess of her checkbook. So no, numbers aren't her thing.

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter three // didn’t care much how long i lived

summary: bucky receives a lesson on modern music over cheap beers and freshly baked scones.

warnings: mentions of abuse, food, alcohol consumption, character death (sorry)

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: besties...how we feeling about today’s episode??? using this as a coping mechanism :)

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

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Your record collection was extensive and collecting an unhealthy layer of dust since you had inherited them from your grandmother. It didn’t take long to fish out a Best Of album from the vast shelves, handing over the sleeve to Bucky, who sat patiently on your forest green couch, as you fiddled with the turntable’s needle.

To busy himself, he read over the repertoire of songs listed on the back.

“Let’s Get It On?”

“Usually, a guy buys a girl dinner first, Bucky.” You took a cheeky swig of your beer with an eyebrow raise as he flushed at the insinuation. “We’ll start easy. If I Could Build My Whole World Around You. A criminally under-appreciated love song.”

A bouncy beat crackled through from the speakers as you settled into the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you. Today’s choice of pajama bottoms displayed little snowflakes across a navy background, despite the heat outside that still lingered into nighttime.

“I like it.” Bucky decided.

“Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell have so many amazing songs together. She might not sound like it on record, but she had a hard life. Abusive, cheating partners. Brain cancer that killed her young. Hard to know what anyone’s going through behind closed doors.”

I’d put so much love where there is sorrow, I’d put joy where there’s never been before.

“I really like it.”

Your apron still hung from your waist, the gentle tick of the kitchen timer in the shape of a grey cat sat by your side. A reminder of the scones you were whipping up when Bucky unexpectedly appeared on your doorstep. You didn’t question him or bring up the late hour. Simply ushered him in with a smile and a beer shoved into his gloved hand.

Bucky feels comfortable for the first time in a long time. Eyes focused, mind stagnant. Your perfume, woodsy and natural, lingers in the air and he has to take a long gulp of his drink just to occupy himself for just a second.

“I’m glad you like it. Though, I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like Marvin Gaye. It’s like not liking Queen.”

“Queen?”

The timer rattled on the coffee table and the smell of vanilla and blueberries nipped at Bucky’s nose.

“Saved by the bell! I don’t have the time to berate you on not knowing about Queen.”

You bustled your way back into the kitchen, sliding oven mitts onto your hands as you inspected the oven with a professional certainty. The record out and into the next track as Bucky watched on, your shoulders swaying to the slow tempo. You were light on your feet as you plucked one tray from the heat and replaced it with another.

It was so easy for Bucky to imagine this world as his, with the soft swing of Motown as the soundtrack to your shared afternoons. In a different life, he would come home to your baking, ask how studying went as you swayed in the kitchen together. You would wash dishes next to one another, hips pressed close, and giggle when he would press his sudsy hands onto your cheeks. You would smear remnants of cake batter on his and he would let you feed him dessert from your fingers.

It wasn’t possible, he knew. Probably ever. You would be graduating school soon, off to be an important attorney and he would still just be your across the hallway neighbor who you sometimes shared desserts and pleasantries with. You would find out who he was eventually. Everyone did. You would leave. Everyone did.

You would simply be another in a long line of failed attempts by James Buchanan Barnes.

Still, he thought, we can have this one simple night. Where you don’t know who he is, and he can imagine that it lasts long after he retreats back to his apartment.

‘Heaven must have sent you from above.’ Crooned the lovesick singers on your record player.

As you returned to the living room with another beer and the promise of scones as soon as they cooled, Bucky could only think one thing.

He was definitely starting to like Marvin Gaye.

He was starting to like you, too.

When he returned back to his apartment, hours later with a pile of records you insisted he borrow in his arms and a belly full of blueberry scones, he fell into bed without a care in his mind. It was his first full night of sleep in ninety years.

-

Bucky started appearing on your doorstep more often.

Your number was now saved in his phone and was his most frequently used contact. You were his secret, though, something he didn’t even share with Dr. Raynor. No matter how many times she tried to get him to speak about his troubling lack of acquaintances.

You were the one thing in the world untouched by all the destruction waging a war between his ears, you were easy and simple and God, it had been a long time since anything had been simple. You didn’t mind that he was brooding and a little bit clueless, or his cheesy jokes and complaints about technology these days.

His record collection was quickly growing, though it was still nowhere near yours.

Most of all, he liked sitting in your apartment, at your kitchen counter or on that forest green sofa of yours. Sometimes, you would let him pick a record and tell him everything you could remember about it. Other times, you would read from your heavy law books and he’d pretend to understand the cases and terminology, head resting against the back of your couch, admiring how your brows would furrow in concentration. He’d tell you not to hunch over your book, but you’d insist you were fine, only to be complaining about your neck the next time he saw you.

“I wish I read more actual books, you know? It seems like all I know these days are case studies.”

The next visit he’d have a worn copy of one of his favorite books tucked under his arm. He’d read to you until you’d doze off to the stories of Bilbo Baggins and his team of dwarves, a blanket tucked up to your neck.

Every visit cemented yourself further and further into his identity, until his trips to the used bookstore down the block became weekly and his morning runs became longer as you pushed more and more baked goods his way. You’d kiss his cheek as you said your goodbyes, leaning against your doorframe as he disappeared into his apartment.

He was happy. Positively, unbelievably happy.

-

Two days before Bucky’s next scheduled visit, Steve died in his sleep.

Pneumonia, or something, Bucky didn’t really comprehend any of the newscast beyond the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD’ flashing in bold letters across his television screen.

Sam called early that morning and Bucky just knew. He knew what was waiting for him on the other end of that call, so he shut his phone off and laid back on the hardwood floor of his living room, dead to the world.

He didn’t speak to anyone for a few days, not even bothering with his daily runs or grocery store trips. Your knocks at his door went unanswered, with no trace that you had even stood in the hallway waiting for him other than a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies on his doormat. The only appointment he kept was his therapy, where he stared out the window and counted down the minutes until he could leave. Each attempt on Dr. Raynor’s part to bring up Steve was shut down as quickly as it was brought up.

Finally, a week later, a pounding at the door woke him from a restless afternoon nap.

“Buck, I know you’re in there.”

Sam. Of course.

“These boxes are heavy, come on!”

Sam Wilson took up Bucky’s entire doorway with his broad shoulders, the boxes stacked in his arms taking up the rest. Bucky was quick to usher him in the door, eyeing yours across the hall. He knew one look at an Avenger on his stoop would finally connect the dots for you, and you’d never speak to the Winter Soldier again.

“Keep your voice down.” Bucky shoved the final box through the doorway before securing the lock in place.

Sam surveyed his barren living room, eyes flicking to the crumpled bedsheets gathered on the floor next to his sofa but didn’t linger for long.

“I was worried about you, man.”

It used to be ‘we’, but now it’s just Sam.

“Nothing to worry about.” Bucky pushed past him to his kitchen, collecting stray dishes he hadn’t bothered to move to the sink before then. He felt Sam’s careful gaze on him the entire time. He hated that. He hated how much Sam cared.

He mostly hated how much it reminded him of Steve.

“Found these boxes in Steve’s attic. Had your name on them so I thought you might want ‘em.”

Bucky swallowed hard, focused on scrubbing the dishes under water so hot it was turning the skin on his flesh hand a violent red.

“I know this is hard, Buck-”

The glass he had been rinsing shattered between his fingers and Sam took a step back as Bucky heaved in uneven breaths. There was a long silence between the two grieving men, neither able to fully understand the other. Sam would never feel Bucky’s ninety-year heartache, the abandonment and fear of the life ahead of him. Bucky would never understand the weight on Sam’s shoulders or his unease at the shield tucked under his bed at home.

“I just want to be alone.”

Sam could do nothing but respect his wish.

“Call if you need anything.” Were his departing words as he showed himself out.

Bucky got to work cleaning up the broken glass.

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