#ff 2019

[wetpussyju1ce]

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Raymond Smith x fem!reader

+18. mdni

note: quite obviously inspired by the movie of the same title from 2005. Ray and reader r married and secretly assassins behind each others back, until one day their real identities get exposed n they have to work through what it means for their marriage and relationship.

the whole street knew them as the cute couple that everyone wanted to hang out with during bbq parties, or when football was on and someone invited everyone to come and watch the game in their house. Ray was a gentleman through and through, always prepared, polite and reliable, whereas his other half was the more spontaneous one. She's easily the life of the party, sweet, friendly and warm.

and when they were together they were a sight to behold, Ray was one handsome fucker, slicked back soft hair and a thick beard, broad shoulders and kind yet intense eyes. His other half was simply gorgeous, brimming with youthful mirth, the one that somehow all young children gravitate to, always ready to play with them or offer snacks. 

Ray worked as an accountant in the city while his wife was a freelance artist as a cover, but both were actually assassins. She ran her own small business and even got to open a few galleries to show off her art, she was doing well, they were doing well. 

until one day they both ended up going after the same target, raymond was settled on top of a building, ready to put a hole in the target's skull until an ice cream van barrelled down the street, hitting the target's car and Raymond cursed. It all happened so fast, a hand poking out of the window of the van holding a gun, and Raymond didn't think, pulling the trigger, missing and nicking the person's hand, making them pull their hand back and shoot with the other, straight at him, almost taking out his left ear. How that person was able to see him from that far, and barely miss, was beyond him.

the next day over dinner, Raymond noticed his wife's bandaged finger, he froze and watched her happily chew the pasta he made and enjoy his homemade garlic bread.

“Love?” He said and she hummed, lifting her head to look at him, mouth full of pasta. 

“What happened to your finger?”

She froze and he saw something flash behind her eyes, she quickly chewed and swallowed her mouthful, “Hot glue gun got me,”

“Hm,” He slowly stood up and made his way around their dinner table, standing over her and reaching to hold her hand when she snatched it away, “It's still sensitive.”

“I just want to see how bad is it,” Ray said, tone neutral and stable.

“It's not too bad, I already cleaned it well and wrapped it pretty tight, I can't open the bandage to show you,” She explained, clutching her finger with her hand, and looking at him with her big Bambi eyes. He observed her carefully, about how open and honest she sounded and looked. There's no reason for Ray not to believe her. But then he had a gnawing feeling in his guts, and he learned a long time ago to never ignore it. 

So he smiled, “Dessert?”

She lit up, “Yes, please!”

He'll have to investigate later because he really wants to trust his wife, but he knows from experience not to ignore his gut feeling if he wants to keep on breathing. So for now, he'll serve his lovely wife dessert, clean the table and make love to her that same evening, like he always does. 

. 

. 

. 

“Where were you?”

Ray was greeted at 4 in the morning in his home by his wife standing in the kitchen, wearing his t-shirt and her undies, looking delicious as ever. if it was any other time Ray would already be balls deep inside his wife's perfect cunt, but it wasn't one of those times. 

instead he slammed his duffel down on the counter, in the middle of their kitchen, he opened the bag and took out a brick of clay, the type you can get from art stores, from the same brand that his wife likes the most. he then took his butterfly knife out of his pocket and easily sliced the thing open, and instead of bits of clay falling apart, a neatly wrapped pack of bullets fell with a clank. 

“Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is this?” Ray said, inhaling sharply and pointing at the bullets and the rest in the duffel bag with his knife. 

His wife didn't move, her arms crossed over her chest and looking at the bullet pack, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his and he frowned, moving a step back when he was met with icyness. 

She unfolded her arms and let them hang at her sides, licking her lower lip as Ray watched, knife in hand and heart hammering in his chest. 

“A regular civilian is not capable of finding that out,” She said and Ray’s fingers started itching, he was hot all over under his clothes and he was so close to doing something he's never done to the love of his life, to his wife, ever. 

“A regular civilian also can't own devices that can't be traced, or work in a company that doesn't fucking exist,” She spat, her previously warm eyes emitting nothing but danger, and all bells in Ray's mind rang loud and clear; he needed to kill her before she kills him.

It all happened so fast, her snatching one of Ray's fancy butcher knives that are magnetised to the wall and dodging Ray throwing the duffel bag at her. Knives sliced the air between them and Ray charged at his wife with everything he got, not holding back, twirling his knife quickly and fast in his fingers, from one hand to the other as he slowly walked her further inside the house, his wife walking backwards, knife in hand and a wild look in her eyes.

She grinned sharp and predatory, “No wonder you're so good with your fingers,”

Ray couldn't hold back his laugh, “What can I say, I'm a natural.”

“How did you figure it out?” She asked, the back of her knees hitting the sofa. 

“Be honest, how did you hurt your finger?” Ray asked. 

“Gunshot,” She answered and Ray didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned. 

“Sorry, babe. Didn't mean to nick you.” He said and watched as her eyes darkened, “You dickhead! Why did you shoot me?! I was after a fucking terrorist!” She shouted, almost giving him a new haircut as he dodged the knife, Ray knocked her off her feet, she fell with a grunt. “It's just protocol, eliminating anyone who gets between me and the target,” 

Ray was about to grab her when she wormed herself away at a fast speed, pushed her body up with ease and balled her fists in front of her, jumping on their glass coffee table, “What sort of fucking company do you work for? I could've been a civilian!”

“Listen– get your feet off the coffee table!” Ray warned. 

“Fuck the coffee table, it's ugly anyway!” She spat and slapped the knife off his hand quickly, and as soon as he lost his knife he jumped her, her own butcher knife flying in the air and landing buried in the sofa. 

Ray fought to hold her still but she was strong and squirmy, hitting him with her elbow on his side, a gasp was punched out of him and he decided then to not hold back, Ray gathered her in his arms and threw her across the room, breaking the window and bringing down the blinds.

When she got her footing back, she glared at him with the power of fifty suns, “I can't believe you hit your wife, Ray.”

“Last time I checked my wife wasn't an assassin,” Ray said, throwing his coat on the sofa and unbuttoning the first 4 fout buttons of his shirt, then rolled the sleeves watching his pretty wife wrap a ripped piece of fabric around both of her wrists, “Your hypocrite, you're an assassin too! And your name is probably not even Raymond Smith either!”

She grabbed Ray's favourite potted plant and threw it at his head, as he dodged the hit, he found himself embraced by his wife, her legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You know that won't work-” His voice quickly got cut off when she squeezed his neck with the remainings of the blinds, the white fabric pulling tight at his thick neck as he clawed at her to let go.

“Did you even love me? In those 5 years of marriage, was anything real?” She asked, squeezing harder until Ray slammed them both down on the ground, bruising her back, she screamed and he took that second to get her hands off him, finally gulping oxygen into his lungs, “Yes! Yes, I fucking did!”

“Then why didn't you tell me?! Why did you hide??” She shouted, eyes brimming with tears at being slammed down on her back, but also at the anger at being lied to. 

“To protect you, that's why! I can't tell my bride I was a killer, what sort of girl would marry a man like that?!” Raymond said, hovering above her, hair dishevelled and eyes wild. 

She then started giggling, giggling for the love of God. “Ray, my love, the light of my life,” She said, holding his face in her hands, Ray feeling his chest burn at the overwhelming emotions he was feeling, “You told me you were an accountant and I married you. If a girl is willing to marry an accountant, she'll marry an assassin,”

Ray didn't mean to laugh, his eyes burning with unshed tears as she brought his face lower and kissed him gently on the lips, and for a moment everything was okay. 

That's when she decided to grab him and flip them around, squeezing his head between her thighs and pulling at his arm, hard. 

“Even though I really did love you. Don't even think I'll let you go, now. I'm not a civilian, baby, and you'll do well to remember that.” She threatened and Ray grinned, he won't have her any other way. 

He brought his free arm up and squeezed at her naked thigh, “Are we fighting or fucking? I'm getting mixed signals here.”

“Oh, can it, Mr Smith,” She squeezed his head tighter, cutting off his oxygen as he gasped and relaxed her hold, just to give him a taste of what's to come if he tries to run away. 

Their short moment of peace was erupted with a rain of bullets. Raymond both threw them on the ground, under the range of the gunfire. 

“What the fuck!” She cursed and when the gunfire finally stopped, Raymond dragged her up the stairs and the gunfire resumed as they tried not to get hit, “Meet me in my studio, okay?” She said and Ray nodded, turning to get to their bedroom, to probably, well, most definitely get a gun. She was about to turn around when he grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her hard, when he pulled away she grinned, her cheeks warming up.

“Go on, then.” He smirked, patting her cheek and sneaking to their bedroom as she made her way to the studio, quickly grabbing every hidden weapon in the room and shoving it all in a backpack, she opened the window and hopped on her desk, and looked outside, immediately spotting guys from her organisation, and others most definitely from Ray's firm. And, they definitely weren't here for tea. 

She quickly loaded her gun and waited on her desk for Ray, the wind making her shiver under her t-shirt and undies. She was totally barefoot too, but she'll worry about that later. 

“Mr. & Mrs. Smith! Come out whenever you are! You know the rules! No banging the competition!” A voice called out and she cursed under her breath, then gunshots resumed, in that moment Ray walked inside the studio, greeted by her gunpoint, “Let's go,” He placed her pair of Uggs in her lap and nodded at the window facing their garage. 

“That's what took you so long? My fucking shoes?“ She said, quickly slipping them on and hopping out of the window, walking slowly on the roof to then jump down behind the house. “You're not walking barefoot in the streets, it's really unsanitary.” Raymond said, disgusted. 

They sneaked inside the garage, getting inside the car, Ray in the driver's seat and her in the passenger's, with the two bags of weapons and other stuff by her feet as the garage door opened up automatically, catching the attention of the other assassins, “Put your seatbelt on,” Ray said, absolutely running over anyone jumping in front of their Mercedes as she shot them out of her window, Ray driving furiously down their street. 

“You got me shoes but didn't think to get me trousers?” She said, pointing at her lap, she was still wearing underwear.

“You look great, don't worry.” He shrugged as she glared at him, “My ass is freezing, just so you know.”

“I'll warm it up for you later.” Ray said, smoothly driving down the empty road, looking at the rear mirror every minute or so, making sure they were not being chased.

I really wanted to write something for like secret spy AU or something. but didn't know how to do it. only that I wanted it to be funny n sexy in a way. so I luckily remembered that Mr and Mrs Smith 2005 was still in my watchlist. so I watched the movie and immediately wrote this after finishing the movie. and I used Ray Smith cuz his name is ALREADY smith and I'm in love w him so yeah 😍😩

[miiints-repostiory]

I make art I swear

[pohutukosplay]

Pōhutukaryl Cosplay as Yuna Final Fantasy X

photoshoot with Mon Illana Fotos Aston Norwood Gardens, Kaitoke, Orongomai September 22nd 2019

buy me a Ko-Fi?

[cwcthzl]

stanley uris is the type of guy to sit on his balcony at weekend evenings in his silk robe while drinking wine and reading a book in his 40s

[jillvalentine]

so pretty.

[cryptidcorners]

so .... i watched burn. and i need some requests immediately you guys im begging

[randomnameless]

The fun thing about the Crest system argument is that before Hopes, myself and others were pointing out how Edelgard's claims make no sense when held up to the various nobles we have in game. The Alliance was a big sticking point in this regard, it was only in the Kingdom where it seemed to exist but it was also tied to defending their lands. Then Hopes came out where Sylvain explained that yes, there is a Crest system… that the nobles ignore and do their own thing. Fodlan itself basically says no one follows the Crest system, so is it really that important that Edelgard removes it while consolidating power on herself?

Where in Nopes does Sylvain mention the Crust system?

Crust system is basically the Fodlan equivalent of inheritence laws, and not that different from a male/female/klingon primogeniture rule, legitimacy rule, or picking the most able "person" to inherit...

Especially since the "most able" notion is as variable as the contents of a teaspoon and Fodlan refuses to elaborate what kind of magical superpower each crest gives.

The Nabateans using hair dye in the War of Heroes make more sense than the crust "system"!

I remember Houses thought trying to push the "wah wah inheritence based on crusts bad" with Sylvain (or was it Dimitri?) saying that the crested heir inherits, and the others are disinherited or something? I haven't checked the jp version and if it is worded differently, but, come on.

We see Rufus and Gilbert, sure they don't inherit the ancestral seat/throne of the house (Gilbert's bro is the baron, and Rufus is salty bcs Lambert got the throne), and yet they're not left in the boonies, are we really supposed to believe that both Rufus and Gilbert didn't get a penny, a house, titles (Gilbert became a knight) or anything for inheritance? Disinherited Rufus would never have became a grand duke (unless Dimitri's grandma was from Itha so Rufus took the inheritance from his mom?) or have lived a relatively more privileged life than Ashe and be free to "seduce around".

Jury's out about whether Glenn had a crust or not, and yet, Glenn got a fiancée and is always highly spoken of by his dad - not something you'd do for a kid you disinherit!

So, what were Sylvain (or Dimitri?) talking about in Houses?

Or were they full of shit to pretend there is a "system" that exists but isn't applied anywhere in the land, so it's totes important to get rid of it and make "ReFoRmS" and in the end, Supreme Leader wasn't totally in the wrong and had some good ideas, but please don't ask more about those ideas or what the "most competent" means to her, especially since Bernie in her solo ending in CF (just like in the other routes) can rule her territory ?

We don't see Hector crying a river because Uther is the Lord and not him, or Eirika doing the same (even if it would have been better for Magvel lol) just like Tana, hell, Elincia's dad didn't want to create an inheritence feud between his daughter and Renning so he hid her, and when Renning returns in FE10, he's not throwing a fit because he should have become King instead of his niece, and what not.

Hell, Desmond wanting to make Guinivere Queen wasn't a move to empower her or to shit on Zeph, but ultimately, a move he pulled off because of his own insecurities at being a worthless King compared to his son.

In Fodlan? Tana - after Innes' death at the hands of her accomplices - starts a war to conquer Magvel to get rid of male primogeniture.

And to make this less stupid than it sounds, the devs insist that Magvel's primogeniture laws are very bad and ruin a ton of lives in the continent which would justify killing Ross and Garcia because they're sacrifices to be made for the greater good.

Yeah :/

I'm not playing this version of FE8.

[needsmoresleepwrites]

Everyone paused at that. No, it wasn't because what Dazai said was eerily creepy or weird. These were the things that they expected of the ex-Port Mafia member in regards to his prized Atsushi.

7 Hours Behind

read on AO3 (4/?)

tags: humor, crack, big cast, travel abroad, dazai is losing his mind, drunken shenanigans, multi-chapter, mini-chapters (etc.)

——————————————————————————

Dazai can't remember the last time he was away from Atsushi for so long, or rather, he can but he likes to not think about it. Unfortunately, he can no longer say it's been less than a handful of times, what with this recent trip being number five. How he longs to hold his little silver-haired kitten! 

"To think you'd be one of those boyfriends," Naomi teased while sitting in one of the lounge chairs closest to her brother.

Kunikida only grunts, "You're lucky this is your first time hearing him whine like a baby." He'd given up on "encouraging" Dazai to do any work. All he'd done today was arrive (late, might he add) and wither away with all the sighing he was doing. And complain about work. And whine about how much he missed Atsushi. But most importantly...

"He hasn't posted anything online! What if he's forgotten me already?"

Naomi picked up her phone and raised a brow, "It hasn't even been that long since his last Instagram upload."

"That was hours ago!" Dazai complained. Kunukida was glad he'd stopped rolling around on the ground but pushing his cellphone into his face wasn't making anything better (this was one of the many disadvantages of sharing a desk with Dazai) . He was trying to finish up some last minute paperwork so they could all disband and let Dazai wallow in his own heartbreak but his partner was making things nearly impossible. He had dreaded this the moment Atsushi had announced his plans nearly a month ago and he had prayed that things would be different this time (to no avail. Dazai had an uncanny ability of defying God Himself)

"You can't actually believe he's still at the Cultural Center. Besides, he also hasn't updated his story since breakfast. It's already nearing lunch in Madrid...!" Everyone paused at that. No, it wasn't because what Dazai said was eerily creepy or weird. These were the things that they expected of the ex-Port Mafia member in regards to his prized Atsushi. Although everyone was surprised he hadn't GPSed the kid (note: He'd tried)

No, what made everyone pause was how right Dazai's statement had been.

Naomi quickly checked Atsushi's stories again, wondering if she had missed something, while her brother nervously looked over to her. They shared looks and then turned to Dazai who was laid out on his desk, his phone still in his hand, nonsense coming from his prone form. Ranpo put down his newspaper to fiddle with his phone, made a few quiet noises, and inconspicuously turned his chair away from Dazai. Naomi could see his hand disappear into his coat pocket. Even Kunikida paused in his work to check his notifications (this was an Emergency. While annoying, his Ideals could wait a few seconds...)

"...maybe the wifi is down?" Tanizaki suggested.

"No, the connection is strong. I just finished submitting some paperwork and contacting some clients, plus, Yoko hasn't let us know anything is off. I'd be the first to know if communications were somehow compromised," Naomi would love to say there were only a few moments when she wished to strangle Kunikida for being so dense but, well, that would be a lie. Luckily she had immense self-control

"I meant...maybe in Madrid? What if he hasn't had a chance to connect?" 

Dazai seemed to revive slightly at this suggestion but then Ranpo smirked over at them, his glasses perched on his nose, "He didn't have any issues these past few days. No, I doubt that's it. Perhaps he's...avoiding someone."

At that moment two things happened. Everyone's phones went off with notifications and Yosano barged into the office, a manic grin on her face as she yelled, "Have you guys seen Atsushi's latest post?! They are so adorable!"

Everyone screamed.

A/N: Here is that old fic that has finally been updated! I started it back in 2019 for the dazatsu ship week. i wrote 2 chapters and then disappeared. now i'm back with 2 new chapters and more to come~ my goal is to make something cute and fluffy but also CHAOTIC as always, comments feed my soul~

[wetpussyju1ce]

Mr. & Mrs Smith pt. 2

Assassin!Ray Smith x Assassin!fem reader

+18. mdni

assassin ray who goes ballistic if anyone puts their hands on his wife, she can handle herself, can send her own husband to the hospital but he still can't help it. so when he ends up gunning down the assassins trying to kill them just for being together, he goes to the other room, looking for his wife and finds her on the floor, clawing at a man choking her out, trying to kill her, and Ray sees red, “Hands off my fucking wife!”

The man looks up and is greeted by Ray's gunpoint, “I said; Hands. off.”

the man slowly lets go and she starts coughing, crawling away from under him and gets up as Ray points his gun straight at him. she stands by his side, a hand holding her neck as Ray asks, “What do they want?”

“They want you dead.” The man answered. 

“Obviously, you fucking twat, why?” Ray hissed.

“They're scared you'll trade firm secrets; double agent stuff.” The man answered and Ray looked at his woman, then back at the man, and without another second thought, pulled the trigger, giving him a neat hole in the middle of his forehead. 

“Firm secrets, what a joke.” His wife muttered and he agreed.

Ray, who even though they're technically on the run, still manages to look for his wife's favourite snacks when they quickly stop for gas and he goes to buy some fags cuz he KNOWS he'll be needing a couple after tonight's shitshow. and when they're back on the road, he hands them to her, w a hand sanitiser and tissues, of course. She thanks him with a big kiss to his cheek and starts munching away as he drives them to the other side of the country. 

Ray who at the first opportunity buys his wife a pair of sweats to wear, because she's still in her panties and it's getting brighter outside, the world is waking up and she's bound to catch attention w a pair of legs and ass like hers. and when she slips them on, they fit absolutely perfect because he knows all her sizes by heart, and knows to get her a size up so they're baggy and extra comfy around the waist. 

Ray who gets a special kind of twinkle in his eye when he gets his hands on any type of big firearms. he loves them big w lots of buttons to mess with. after all, he's just a boy w a special love for tinkering n messing w machines. His wife notices and her heart grows twice as big at the sight. because he's so freaking cute, getting giddy over using big guns. she cant help the smile that pulls at her lips while watching her husband light up an alley w his machine gun, putting multiple holes in each assassin coming after them.

Ray who's concerned the second his wife groans and clutches at her arm, looking in pain and Ray immediately asks, “Who hurt you?” 

She points out a bleeding corpse, and he shoots it once, “Here, you'll be okay, darling,” And she smiles at him, as he kisses his thumb and middle finger together and presses it to where it hurts, and they leave a sea of broken and bloody bodies behind, hand in hand. 

Ray who finds out Fletcher was the one who ratted them out to their firms for money. who managed to get photographic evidence of them both together. a mundane picture really, them coming out of the big Tesco, Ray pushing their trolley while his wife is opening a pack of Maltesers. 

But Ray doesn't care. he hates it when people feel privy to his private life. he doesn't appreciate that kind of disrespect, at all. especially when there's a possibility that Fletcher could've taken a photograph of his lovely wife doing literally anything, like painting in their garden in nothing but a bikini under the sun. 

His wife quickly learned how protective Ray actually was. Before she knew his real occupation, she just appreciated it when he used his whole body as a shield to protect her from unwanted touches or attention. Or when that one time a tipsy man, at the pub, accidentally dropped his wallet on her lap and reached to grab it just for Ray to grab his wrist in a flash. The man winced and Ray relaxed his hold, but dragged the man's hand up on the counter instead, grabbed the wallet on his own and slapped it on the man's hand with a tight smile. She only watched and didn't move an inch, smiling big when Ray asked her to switch seats w him.

It wasn't anything big, but it was enough for her to praise and lean her whole body against him, giving him tiny kisses on his beard once in a while, dying at how adorable he was, and that was just when she thought her sweet and attentive civilian husband was just an accountant with a smidge of OCD.

But now that he could freely express what he could and would do for his wife, was the most thrilling and addicting feeling.

When she wasn't slicing her way through skin and guts, or shooting men dead until her hand burned around the gun handle, she would stand there and watch her Ray absolutely terrorise the other assassins. She would watch with her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes now practically hearts, toying w her fingers like a lovestruck teenager. It was so exciting. 

And when Ray would meet her eyes, he would grin and she would giggle, skipping to where he was, standing over a now cooling body and giving him a cheeky kiss to the corner of his mouth. then they would leave on a stolen car, breaking every road law and rule. 

And when she finds them a way to get out of the country, Ray realises he has to change his appearance, so he sits on the dingy motel room bed, abt to shave his beard off, he'll do it, but he's just saying goodbye to his facial hair before he has to get rid of it all and cut his hair shorter. At least his wife will only need to dye her hair. 

When she realises he's abt to get rid of one of her favourite things abt him, she whines and already mourns the loss. but then realises that actually, he showed her a picture of him when he was much younger and he looked incredibly handsome under the facial hair, so really, there won't be much of a loss. 

So before he shaves it all off, she asks him if he'd be up to eating her out one last time as a farewell ritual to his beard lmao. 

And Ray would never say no to her, so just to be extra safe, he goes ahead and washes his face, soaps his beard and rinses it, just so all that he gives his pretty wife is redness from the friction. and they go to town, oh they do that the next door guests bang on the wall and shout at them but Ray doesn't give a rats ass and his wife is in another planet as he pounds her to Sunday.

When that's all said and done. Ray finally shaves all of his beard off and she helps him, tilting his head this and that way, even using scissors and a blade when needed. then it was his hair. he thought abt buzzing it all off but she just asked him to hand her to scissors and brush. So she cut almost all of his beautiful prince charming hair, left a little at the top then shaved the sides shorter, giving him a fade of some sort. and at the end when he looks at himself in the mirror he feels so naked. so different. 

“Wow, you look like my boyfriend, not my husband.” She says while standing behind him, looking at the bathroom mirror, a towel wrapped around her chest, hair wrapped in clingfilm. 

Ray frowns in confusion, a hand on his cheek, “Excuse me?”

“You look like my bad boy boyfriend who scares my parents, not my mature dilfy husband,” She says and Ray is still confused, “Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like my face? Without the beard?” He asks, turning around to face her. 

She places a hand on his big shoulder, and squeezes the muscle, “I'd let you do unspeakable things to me with or without the beard, love.”

He smiles and rubs his eyes, “I need my glasses…”

“They're on the bed, I need to wash my hair,” She says, kissing him on the cheek and he hums, walking out of the bathroom with his hands on his hips, dad style.

[kazumahashimoto]

from one apple motherfucker to the next

[7amsunflw3r]

december 3rd.

“here.”

the words brushed against the wind as y/n stuck his arm out towards the boy -no, man- in front of him. he looked away, the trees that covered yu qing’s tennis courts giving him a protective barrier for his embarrassed self.

maybe the slight blush on his cheeks grew a little brighter because the sun beamed down on them, and maybe his heart began to beat a little faster since he finished his match with sweat dripping down his face. even with those factors, he knew that wasn’t the reason why.

it was the same reason it always was. zhuo zhi. it was always zhuo zhi.

zhuo zhi was the reason the sun burned in the middle of the day, the reason he served every ball to the other side of the court. he - and zhuo zhi alone - was the reason the world kept spinning.

“are you going to take it?”

y/n’s voice was a little louder, his arm becoming sore as he extended the object in his arm out a little further. it was a light blue sweater with navy blue flowers embroidered into the cuffs.

it wad pretty, different from the things y/n wore on a daily basis. instead of keeping it for himself on the cold winter day, he held it out to zhuo zhi.

zhuo zhi finally looked up from his spot on the court, eyes squeezing softly as they gazed upon their chosen god. “i don’t see why i need a sweater, i’m hot still.”

clenching his jaw shut, y/n’s eyes met with zhuo zhi’s. his heart refused to slow down, only beating faster with every second their eyes were together as one.

“please, just take it.”

the silence that hung over the courts as it slowly turned to evening was deafening, making y/n go insane. zhuo zhi broke the silence with a sigh as he stood up and readjusted his main player uniform.

“fine.” his fingers clasped around the cotton, hand skillfully and gracefully placing it over his shoulders. zhuo zhi looked even more handsome with it on, head held high as he continued to meet y/n’s gaze. “does this mean something special? or are you nice to me after all these years.”

“it means i love you zhuo zhi.”

the world returned to a silence that somehow increased the humidity of the air, each breath painful and thick as he waited for zhuo zhi to reply, to change in anyway.

zhuo zhi’s face broke into a soft smile, a small chuckle escaped his mouth as the wind cleared the tension. he hopped the net, his beloved racket clattering to the floor as he instead used that hand to grasp y/n’s.

that hand, full of callouses and rough skin, never felt so perfect in his palm.

“oh? so you’ve given me a sweater to say you love me. i take it now i’m supposed to repay you with a date?”

y/n smiled, punching zhuo zhi’s arm gently to get a reaction from the man. the birds chirped as zhuo zhi and y/n packed up, the blue sweater that covered zhuo zhi brushing against the bare skin of y/n’s arm.

“i expect this date to be amazing, zhuo zhi.” y/n almost grumbles, reluctant to admit his affections.

zhuo zhi refuses to answer, instead choosing to wrap his arm around y/n as they walked through the streets, each other the only thing the world could offer.

y/n proceeded to give zhuo zhi a sweater every december third to signify his undying love. because he loved him, and he always gave him cotton.

[tozsoss]

When I thought 2024 was gonna be my year but it ended up being worse than 2021 which is extremely hard to top

[benjaminsteele]

"Listen —" he snapped, the patience he'd so desperately clung onto upon entering the nightclub dissipating the moment he'd been pestered. "Radi boga. I don't want a drink, I don't want to dance, I'm just trying to find my brother. Now, have you seen him or not?"

[radio-4-is-static]

Build It Up – Franz Ferdinand @ The Andrew J Brady Music Center

[necrogfie]

why am i back in my hp era noo

also holy fck i need more lily x reader fanfic i wanna kiss her pls

[eudikot]

I keep getting beautiful mp100 fanfic artworks on my feed which means I have to open that fanfic and save it for later, but they're coming at me faster then I can read them please help stop posting captivating fanfic artwork.