#he does not pick up his laundry lazy style I’m not about that

[simplyghosting]

Friend of my mom keeps wanting me to visit and I can’t help but suspect ulterior motives after learning her son is newly single

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[jjuzoir]

Boyfriend! Itadori Yuji

request: no...! Hahaha :’)

word count: 1231

a/n: Look... i know i have requests okay hhh It’s just... i’ve been suffering from Yuji Brainrot recently 😿 anyway! drinking game ! how many times do i call or compare yuji to a puppy! i’m pushing an agenda onto you all

- Let’s get this out of the way, once Itadori falls - he falls hard. He’s not the type to get involved with anyone seriously, mostly because he just doesn’t really think he has the time (even though he totally has), the reality is; he isn’t really interested in a relationship. He’s happy with his life and getting the occasional crush on someone or a new celebrity crush after watching a movie.

- So when he finds himself crushing on you for a long period of time, you’ve basically got yourself your own puppy.

- It takes him some time to realize he’s interested romantically in you and he’s actually thinking about getting into a relationship, but once he does he doesn’t really see the point in taking much longer.

- He’ll be kind of awkward asking you out, but it’s cute! He’s energetic about it and he stutters a bit at first but when he finally gets it out he’s kind of excited - until he realizes there’s a chance you might say no. So please say yes and fast because he’s thinking about how Kugisaki and Fushiguro are gonna snicker at him and pity him for getting rejected after being totally sure of himself a few hours ago.

- And when you do say yes? He’s beaming, he’s shining – the sun was found jobless.

- He’s a sucker for you wearing his clothes. He finds it so cute to see you wearing something that’s his, he says it ends up smelling like you and it makes him all soft and warm when you give back a shirt or hoodie you’d been using and it smells like you.

- Nobara calls him disgusting because he genuinely doesn’t want to wash his clothes because they smell like you.

- His favorite dates are the ones where you stay at home and play video games or watch movies. He loves just being there with you and cuddling you close, it’s such a contrast from always being on a mission with his friends and Gojo. He can pretend everything is normal again when he’s with you.

- He also loves arcade dates! If Yuji can show off he will. His favorite is dancing with you in Dance Dance Revolution, he’ll hug you from behind and sway around and giggle while you’re both screaming because neither of you can get the steps right because you’re laughing too much.

- Itadori is such a big cuddle bug, he loves waking up early on Saturday and having you hugging him in your sleep. He’s like a magnet because wherever you are he’ll be there trying to throw himself on top of you to cuddle. He’s always got an arm around you or trying to wiggle himself into your arms, it’s really cute – he likes being in your arms, it’s just so fun to be hugged by you

- Whenever you sleep over, he likes having you rest your head on his chest or resting his head on yours. If he’s feeling overwhelmed, Itadori might just ask you to hold him – which means he wants to hug your waist and listen to your heartbeat while you play with his hair until you both fall asleep.

- He loves picking you up in his arms, no matter how tall you are or how much you weigh he’s absolutely carrying you in his arms while giving you surprise kisses on the forehead or cheek.

- He has you saved as something like “The Love Of My Life 💕✨” and wants you to have him saved as “The Light Of My Life 👑💕”, if you ask him to change it he’ll sulk a bit and whine about how it’s cute and romantic and it shows he cares a lot – you ask if he isn’t embarrassed and he nods; “But it shows I care :(“

- Let him keep it like that you monster.

-Has a candid of you doing something super boring like… algebra 2 as his lock-screen, it’s probably not even a good picture. Like, it’s probably kind of shaky since he had to take it fast before you question him, the sun blocks the background and you look like you haven’t seen the light of day in years. But you’re smiling, and he remembers very well why; it was the day he told you he loved you for the first time. And he doesn’t care if it’s a bad photo or if it’s cheesy, he likes it a lot and he looks at it whenever he’s feeling down.

- Anyway! Puppy boyfriend! Literally! Yuji is the type of boyfriend that can’t stand being away from you for too long, so whenever he sees you again he’s jumping into your arms and squeezing the life out of you.

- “[Name],” he whined as he nuzzled into your cheek, Nobara was cracking up as she filmed while Megumi tried not to look too disgusted, “I missed you!”

- “‘Ji, I went out for takeout?”

- “Took too long.”

- “I was gone for less than twenty minutes?”

- “Too long.” He looked up at you from his position in your chest and it took everything in you not to coo and pet him.

- “I’ll… I’ll try to be faster.” You mumble embarrassed.

- Yuki is also a good cook, since he was with his grandfather and that man looks like he can’t even boil an egg — it’s safe to assume Yuji taught himself how to cook.

- The granny’s probably felt bad and gave him a bunch of recipes and spices and tips for his food. What I’m saying is Itadori makes perfect comfort food. He’s also good at cleaning when he wants to be, he took care of his grandpa’s place and got a bunch of advice from the neighbors.

- He’s a teenage boy though so he’s lazy like most of the time and just takes out the trash and makes sure the place isn’t reeking, but if he really wanted to he could – all you have to say is; “Yuji, my place is getting kinda messy, don’t you think?” super casually and he’s on his way to put music and dance while dusting gl ur shelves.

- Itadori is a good dancer too! Look at him, he’s peak dancer material. On lazy days, he loves grabbing your waist suddenly and moving around, little twirls here and there while he tells you about what he’s been up to. There’s no music, only the sound of your feet tapping the ground in a lazy rhythm neither of you cares for. You can spend up to hours there just moving carelessly.

- Smells like warm laundry, I’m talking; you just took your clothes from the dryer and you're folding them and you press a shirt to your chest and catch a whiff of the softener.

- Let’s you style his hair with butterfly clips and hair ties, will go on missions with them on. Sukuna hates it because no one takes him seriously with two little ponytails sticking from his head like antennas but after a while he just grew so tired of ripping them from his head after every takeover he just began dealing with it.

- Will eat anything you make him, you could make the most abhorrent piece of cooking ever seen, I’m talking you could’ve made Gordon Ramsay cry from sheer desperation, and Yuji will eat with a little smile on his face because: “Look my s/o cooked it for me, aren’t they so talented? :D”

- Puppy boyfriend Yuji, everyone.

[chil2de]

How are you today? If its alright with you, can I request a Atsumu x fem reader where she has a super tomboy style and ALWAYS wears baggy clothes, but one day atsumu comes over to hang out and the only outfit she has left is kinda a tight fitting shirt and for the first time ever Atsumu realizes just how curvy his girlfriend is

sorry if thats to specific! feel free to ignorethis!

warning - miya atsumu x reader

hiii! i’m doing okay anonie, thank you and i hope u are faring well!!! so um this ended up being a LOT longer than i expected pls forgive me it was supposed to be a cute lil drabble but now its like uh 2k words aJdhfhhd, i really loved this idea!!! don’t worry ab it being too specific i actually like that and it helps give me a general idea about the req

well whilst this isn’t tooooo nsfw there are a few small themes in the beginning + swearing since i write atsumu like that and implications of sexual content ig at the end but aside from that? just some fluff for our fav king. characters are aged up and i am unsure how it would work but call it anime logic and enjoy! thanks for requesting! (okay rereading the ending is lowkey smut why am i like this)

“b-cup.” atsumu huffed with confidence. he took a large swig out of his water bottle, nodding his head wisely in affirmation.

“really? i’d say c-cup.” suna chimed in, his half-lidded gaze narrowing.

“nah, it’s b-cup”

“what the hell are you two talking about?” osamu interjected, concern and disgust thick on his features as he came over carrying a few towels.

“(y/n)’s bra size” suna nonchalantly responded, his eyes flicking up for a few seconds as he accepted the towel from osamu.

“‘tsumu i knew you were messed in the head but, suna? have you caught his germs?”

“fuck are you making it sound like i have some viral disease?”

“you don’t?” suna snorted, plopping down onto the floor to sit cross-legged.

“why don’t you just ask her?” osamu’s gaze flickered onto yours from across the court. you felt your ears burn from the way the three of them were staring at you.

was something on your face?

a bug? dirt?

“huh? like i’m supposed to say, hey baby girl, what size are your tits?”

“i’m still saying b-cup”

“c-cup”

“i think b-cup” osamu joined in, watching atsumu screw his face at him

“you goddamn hypocrite-“ “who’s being a hypocrite?” kita inquired with a half-hushed tone, making his way over with a few protein bars

“oh my god i’m going home” atsumu groaned, resting his palms on his knees as he stood up. he beelined towards you, his exhaustion painted his lazy smile beautifully. he still had the energy to turn around over his shoulder and flip his middle finger up at his team whilst his right hand snaked around to your waist.

somewhere around your waist. it took him a little bit of digging through all the fabric.

it didn’t matter to him, though. as much of a jackass as he might’ve been, he never judged you for the way you dressed. even if it meant that sometimes you looked a lil bit homeless, at the end of the day- he still had that glimmer in his eyes whenever he saw you.

you would be his favourite baby girl, no matter what.

“is that my shirt you’re wearing?” he hummed, glancing down to look at it.

it was, in fact, one of his shirts. it was matte black in colour, with a small dip that would showcase atsumu’s collar bones. it was a little bit faded from the many wash cycles it endured throughout its lifetime, but he would always notice the small tear in the bottom right section of the fabric.

“sorryyy, i know you just washed it but it smelled so nice. also, wow, did you put on deodorant? you actually smell like a man it’s kinda creepy”

“i always put on deodorant you dipshit, you’re always crying about how pretty my face looks so your nose doesn’t pick up the scent. it’s verbena citrus, buy your own because i know you’ll try stealing mine so i’m putting a padlock on that shit.” atsumu scoffed, digging his fingers into your sides to tickle you as you walked. you squirmed, swatting him away as you dug your hands into the pockets of your joggers. they were not atsumu’s, unfortunately, for you found out the hard way that you would literally have to drag the excess fabric behind you like some train dress or bundle it up and fold it, which, in retrospect- did not look too aesthetically pleasing. you settled for your own joggers and favourite high-top sneakers to match.

“you know you’ll say all this but give me your deodorant anyway, right?” you stuck your tongue out at him. he rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair.

“hey.” he called out, causing you to direct your attention towards him.

he nudged your arm with his elbow.

oh.

“give it here.”

you uncurled your left hand out of your pocket, zipping it up to make sure the contents inside didn’t spill. atsumu slid his right hand away from your waist and opened his palm up, intertwining his fingertips between yours into a tight lock. he grazed his thumb over the back of your hand, giving you a small squeeze.

“that was the cheesiest and most corniest thing you’ve done and i hated it” you made a mock gagging sound, averting your gaze.

you could feel the blush fresh on your cheeks, heart pounding in your chest like it was about to explode.

“wait, you thought i was holding your hand because we’re dating? i’m just doing it because i know your dumbass would get lost” atsumu snorted, throwing his head back in laughter.

well,

you could still see the light blush tinting his cheeks. and it wasn’t the sunset.

“mmm, should i wear this one- wait-“ you grabbed the shirt, folding it upwards as you took a small whiff. well,, you did wear it yesterday… yeah, you did put it in the laundry basket,,, no, it didn’t smell toooo bad, but..

you groaned, tossing it back into said basket as you furrowed your brows in concentration.

you heard the doorbell ring which only caused you to panic even further. you just needed a shirt. literally any shirt. you were about to cut your freaking pants out and sew them together to another pair for a shirt.

since it was a friday, you had atsumu walk you halfway home. you only lived a street away from him, and the apartment was conveniently built on a fork between the road down to his house and the supermarket. hence, he dropped you off and went to the store all by himself like a responsible adult to grab some snacks for the weekend.

“it’s open!” you called out, leaning your jaw back as you shouted in hopes for your voice to travel further.

in that moment, just in the corner of your eye- you saw a familiar flash of black.

you swooped the fabric up, quietly humming in pleasure when it smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener.

you lifted the shirt over your head, struggling to pull it down for a few seconds.

you admired yourself briefly in the mirror.

it was a casual t-shirt. it reached down to the middle portion of your arms, though it was significantly less baggy than all of your other clothes. you liked to sleep in it during hot and stuffy summer nights, but rarely found yourself using it otherwise.

it’s not like you didn’t like these kinds of shirts.

but when given the option to look “stylish” or comfortable, who wouldn’t pick comfortable? that’s what was important to you above all. clothes that made you feel like you were constantly in bed were a godsend from the heavens.

“hey dipshit, i spent twenty minutes jumping stores for you but no one sold any (favourite drink) so i got you-“ atsumu halted in his steps, the grocery bags curled around his fists were suddenly forgotten and discarded as he caught sight of you through the doorframe.

you were clad in a pair of old white shorts and a black t-shirt, complimentary of the fact that everything else was currently in the laundry machine. atsumu could outline every single damn crevice and dip on you, and he burned that shit so deep into his retinas that he would still see it when his eyes were closed.

he felt his breath hitch, something deep inside him resonating, growing feral like hunger.

he still stood by what he said,

baggy clothes or not, you were beautiful.

but he wasn’t expecting this

“so you bought what?” you inquired, twisting your torso halfway to greet him as you finished brushing through some knots in your hair at the vanity.

“huh?”

“you said there wasn’t any (favourite drink) so you got what? did you fall and crack your head open on the way here? cause it looks like it”

you could feel your heart squeeze, body temperature increased twofold as icy hot waves wracked every inch of your skin. there was a cold sweat that rolled down the back of your knees.

“shut the hell up, i hate you” atsumu grumbled, forcing himself to turn away from you and stomp off to the kitchen with a pout.

“jesus christ give me strength i hate this woman, where the hell does she get off thinking she can get away with looking so good like that” atsumu mumbled incoherent curses underneath his breath, shakily unloading everything he bought out onto the counter and stuffing the groceries into cabinets and the fridge.

“‘samu, i hate you but dude i need twin telepathy, give me strength so i don’t deck this woman right here right now” he cursed, gritting his teeth. his self-control was about to fly out the window.

“you okay?” you popped your head through the door, leaning into the kitchen.

he could see the outline of your prominent collarbones, the way the shirt still fell a little bit and hung loosely off of your frame. he could see the start of your stomach.

god, it should’ve been illegal the way he wanted to grab your thighs. he wondered for a second what it would look like with his fingerprints etched into your skin there.

“want a few tissues and some lotion?” you snorted, nestling up beside him to help. you gazed at him, watching him keep his eyes narrowed on the packet of pistachios he was fumbling with.

you thought it was cute.

“listen- if you’re not ready yet then i’d suggest that you find something else to wear cause holy shit if you don’t get away from me right now i swear i will not restrain myself-“

“i’m ready” you hummed, giving him an innocent smile. you toyed with your hands behind your back, fiddling with them as butterflies swept your abdomen.

atsumu snorted, eyebrows creasing in confusion. he turned to face you, setting the pistachios down.

“alright i’m not saying this to boost my ego, but, what did you say?”

“i said i’m ready”

you watched his brain stir, gears ticking and turning like clockwork.

atsumu let out a low sigh.

“yeah, yeah. well, then.”

his right hand slammed against the wall, caging you in. he leaned into you, looming over you as his half-lidded eyes burned holes inside your soul. you felt the air tense and switch around him, carnal desires swirling behind his gaze. his chest was so close to yours, practically flush, save for the tiniest gap. you could literally feel his heart hammering.

he was so invasive, so close, yet so respectful. he still kept his distance, just n case you changed your mind.

“are you sure this is what you want?” his voice was hot and slick against the shell of your ear, voice husky and octaves deeper. you could feel the sexual tension dripping from him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against him.

“i’m sure, ‘tsumu.”

a loud chuckle ripped from the depths of his chest. it was so hearty, and fuck, it made you clench.

atsumu swooped you up all in one swift motion, hands hooking underneath your thighs as he shoved you against the counter. he sent everything clattering and thudding in the process.

“don’t say i didn’t warn you, doll.”

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

Hi can I request a SFW D, F, J, M V for our lovely Gojo Satoru.. Thanks! 😘❤

Let's get this ball rolling! 💙

D= Domestic (Are they willing to settle down with you? Are they willing to do chores? What do you two do at home?)

Gojou never thought he would settle down. That is until he met you!

With his busy and dangerous lifestyle, he thought he would spend the rest of his days alone.

Being with him, is a huge risk. The higher ups or the enemies would use you as a bargaining chip.

After lots of convincing, that you'll promise to be by his side forever. You'll have his heart now and forever.

Gojou when he's at home...he's lazy. He'll be munching on some snacks, lying on the sofa while you hang the laundry.

Somedays he's tired from work, so you let him be but if he really isn't doing anything. Some threats work really well on him.

"If you don't don't do the laundry, you're sleeping on the sofa tonight!"

"Then I'm off to do it!"

Having growing up with servants, he's not used to doing household chores.

But he will try, because he doesn't want you take take on the full workload. Teach him, he's a fast learner!

At home, within your arms is where he feels safest. Majority of the time you two would be in contact with each other one way or another.

You're watching tv? He's sitting you with his arm around your shoulder. If you're cooking, he'll come and unexpectedly hug you from behind. This man craves your touch.

Watching movies or television is something you both do very often, you'll both be snuggled up together, while Gojou throws commentary here and there.

Cooking or baking is another thing you both do. Majority of the time you both rarely get to spend together due to Gojou's work schedule. Who ever arrives home first will have to make dinner. However, you two are both at home you both help each other make a delicious dessert or meal. Nothing like eating a home cooked meal together.

Playing video games together is a must! You're his player number 2. He's very competitive so if he wins, it's non stop boasting but if he loses he demands an immediate rematch. Mario Kart or Super Smash Brothers is some the common ones you both play.

F= Fights (How often do you guys fight? Who apologizes first? How long will the fight last? What is the reason behind the fight?)

You guys argue pretty often but they're mostly about trival issues. Like Gojou forgot to take out the trash or who cooks today.

If you both do fight seriously. It would definitely have to do with "work". Because of Gojou's busy schedule you're not sure when will he be back home or when he will be gone. If you both have very different schedules it would definitely lead to some misunderstandings.

If you realize you did something wrong you'll apologize to him right away. While he spouts things like "I told you so!" but he's only teasing.

If he realizes he did something wrong it'll take him a while for him to admit it. Depending on the seriousness of the situation his apology will differ.

If it's something trivial, he'll just pepper you with kisses while says sorry a hundred times.

If it's serious, he'll fully embrace you and apologize, straight to the point no needless words.

Trivial fights don't last long but serious one may take time. Depending on who's wrong or right.

Gojou is a stubborn person so even if he's wrong it'll take him a while to admit it. Maybe days or a week but no longer than that. After all he can't resist not being around you.

J= Jealousy (How often do they get jealous? Do they get easily jealous? How will they react?)

Gojou doesn't get jealous easily. He trusts you and knows the things you do and won't do. However, on rare occasions it does happen but he won't directly voice it out.

"I'm the strongest most handsome shaman ever!" But behind that he still has insecurities. It usually depends on the person you're interacting with. If he sees you getting a little too close to someone, he'll step inーcausally stepping in between the two of you. A hand around your waist around strangers and a full on back hug around people he knows.

If a stranger tries to pick you up, he'll swoop right in towering the poor stranger. He knows he's attractive and he knows show to use it.

"Pay attention to me (Y/N), not Nanami!.

"Satoru, we're talking the recent sighting of a grade 1 cursed spirit."

Afterwards he'll just be very whiny and needy, he wants your full attention on him and him only!

M= Marriage (How do they propose to you? What’s their ideal wedding like? Where do you plan it?)

Gojou is a very spontaneous man, I can imagine him doing it during the most mundane and random moments. Such as after you're both walking home from a date or maybe it's late into the night while you're both cuddling.

Maybe moments where you're hurt or if he almost lost you.

"Marry me, (Y/N)..."

It's just a spur of the moment kind of thing, when he's the most vulnerable. When he realizes "ah, I want to spend the rest of my life with this person..."

Gojou is pretty flexible with the kind of wedding he wants. He doesn't really have a dream wedding.

The elders of his clan would definitely bug him for a Traditional one as it is customary.

However, if you want a Western style wedding instead he will definitely go for it.

Mostly likely, you both will have two weddings one traditional and western.

Money is different not an issue with this man. Say the word and you shall receive. It's definitely going to be extravagant.

Whether you want to or not he'll find a way to splurge his money.

If the elders are opposed to your marriage you'll both will just have a private wedding, inviting the people closest to you guys.

Not marrying you because someone said no is not an option for him.

V= Vision (What do they imagine their future? What is their dream? Do they want to spend it with you?)

If Gojou truly loves you, he'll definitely would want to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. Somewhere where he doesn't have to be on guard and would always welcome him with open arms.

Yet at the same time he is afraid of the dangers that come associated with him. If you're a civilian he'll try to distance himself away from you. He's afraid one day when he's not around, someone might come after you. His world is completely different from that of a normal person's afterall.

If you work in the same field as him. He'll definitely be more reluctant to push you away, because he knows you can handle yourself. It lessens his worries.

Still life as a shaman is still as dangerous, you're putting your lives at risk every time you go on a mission. The thought of losing you scares him to the very core.

Despite that he still loves you and if can't be with you he would like to associated with you someway maybe as acquaintances or friends.

He dreams of a world without cursed spirits, where he can live a peaceful life, settle down and start a family with you.

In a world crowded with darkness he dreams of a single ray of solace that is you.

Someone that will stay by his side no matter how difficult it will be.

[staywritten]

Over&Over│Seo Changbin│II

Over&Over│ Chapter II

Synopsis: Loving Changbin was either than breathing, but why was it so hard to accept that he can love you just as you love him. Why do you always questions your own self worth. What were you supposed to do when he went on an arranged marriage meeting?

Genre: Non idol au, fluff, angst, hurt comfort, smut

Word Count: 2k

Part I

It’d been two days and anytime the lingering thought of telling you about this stupid arranged marriage meeting came up he shot it down. He’ll just be gone for a few hours, he’d reject the girl properly and return home to your arms. 

His eyes softened as he watched you sleep, brushing your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I gotta go to work Baby, I’ll be back later tonight” 

You stirred in your sleep and pulled him into a hug. “I’m gonna miss you”

He kissed the top of your head softly “I’ll miss you more” he pulled back to look at your sleepy face. “Tell your parents I said Hi”

“I will” you gave him a lazy smile as he crawled out of bed to finish getting ready and heading out for the day. This was gonna be the hardest couple hours of his life. At times like this he wasn’t Seo Changbin, he was a rep for his parents company. His actions were no longer his, and the repercussions were heavier. Money, jobs, investments, future business deals were always at stake at investor meetings and even though this was under the guise as a marriage meeting the weight was the same. 

He smiled reading your text message, wishing him a good day at work. His sister smirked looking over his shoulder. “Aww she’s so cute, see I told you she’d understand if you were honest” she nudged him. 

“She doesn't know and we’re not telling her. Don’t bring this up again” he slipped his phone back in his pocket and straightened his tie. 

“Wait… you didn’t tell her?” she grabbed his arm to stop him from walking into the restaurant. 

“And do what? Hurt her and make her spend all day worrying for nothing? I’m gonna refuse it so it doesn’t matter”

She sighed and started walking “As your older sister, I feel like I need to warn you. Do not under estimate a woman’s intuition. ”

He silently followed her inside the restaurant thinking back to you. The guilt weighing heavily on his heart. 

You spent the day with your parents helping them garden and just relaxing at home. It was a nice change of pace. Your mom washed the dishes and looked over to you. “You should bring home all of the leftovers for Changbin, he really liked my soup the last time he had it”

“I will” you put away the clean plates. “He’ll be excited when he gets home”

She smiled and nudged you “You two have been doing ok right?”

“Of course we have” you laughed. “Changbin is perfect, he’s kind and sweet and caring… I really love him”

“...” you glanced at your mother seeing that look on her face. Her smile becoming a little tight as she considered saying something. “Mom, please just say it, I can see you overthinking about this”

“Well…. I love Changbin too he’s very sweet but his family is nice to you right? They haven’t tried to do anything to you?”

“What do you mean?” you set down the dish rag and leaned against the counter. 

“Honey it’s just...I have no doubt that he loves you dearly. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, but it’s just I don’t want you to forget that there is a class difference between you. He’s the young heir to a conglomerate worth billions, and the only son at that...and you...well you’re a bartender...I find it hard to believe that his family is ok with just that”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Is that how you feel?” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Do you think I’m not good enough for him?”

“I didn’t say that, I just acknowledge the class difference. I’m fine with it, I know that you have bigger aspirations and goals and the bartender thing is just in the meantime but does his family know that? Are they ok with that? Is Changbin serious about being with you or is he just playing around before his family marries him off to some rich heiress.”

“Mom.” you frowned. “His family has been nothing but kind to me. His mom sends us fruit, I have lunch with his sister once a week” you looked down, hugging yourself. “I’m not ignorant...I know there’s a class difference...I worry about it anytime I cook for him and worry that it’s not good enough, or anytime I do his laundry and worry that it’s dry clean only or-” you stopped yourself as tears gathered in your eyes. “I know I’m not good enough, and I just sit and pray that he doesn’t realize...I try so hard to keep up with him and I-” 

Your mom pulled you into the warmest hug, rubbing your back. “Shhhh Honey it’s ok….It’s ok” You buried your face in her shoulder, holding on to her. 

You weren’t gonna lie to yourself, you’d been trying to find Changbin’s flaws since he wandered into your bar and won your heart. But it’s been years and he was perfect, he was just so genuine. However your flaws were always so prominent. You didn’t have the same rich taste as him, you weren’t the best cook, you came from working class parents. And the worst part about it was you knew that he was out of your league and for some reason he loved you despite that, so you lived in constant fear that he might notice your insecurities. Your constant jealousy of all of the beautiful woman he had to work with. 

It was tiring. 

Loving him was becoming suffocating, loving someone so much more than you could ever love yourself was terrifying. Loving him made you jealous, loving him made you possessive, loving him made you needy.

And what if he grew to hate that part of you?

When you finally got home you were exhausted, it was emotionally exhausting destroying your self esteem over hypotheticals. Part of you knew you were just in your head but it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

You looked over at your phone to see it ringing and your co-workers name on it. You furrowed your brow and answered. “Chaeyoung What’s up?”

“Hey I’ve been trying to call you all day”

“I was visiting my parents, there’s not much signal over there, what’s going on?”

“Earlier today I was picking up a few boxes of wine, from our distributor. You know that really nice restaurant in Gangnam”

“Oh yeah, with there expensive ass wine, what about it?”

“While I was there and I saw Changbin”

“It was probably for work, he had a lunch meeting this afternoon”

“Oh thank goodness” she laughed “I was gonna tell him off and everything because he was with a woman but I guess it was for work?”

“He usually goes with his sister to them, she’s the CEO”

“You know now that you mention it I did see a woman that kinda looked like him while I was waiting for my order- But he was having lunch with another woman”

“I trust Changbin” you laughed. “But thank you for calling me”

“Of course, I’m just glad it turned out to be nothing, well I’ll let you go. See you at work tomorrow.”

“See ya” you hung up and looked up to see your front door opening and a very tired Changbin walk in. His eyes softened as he saw you. “Hey welcome home”

He slipped off his shoes before handing you a large bouquet of flowers. “I’m sorry I’m late...I’m sorry I missed lunch with your family” he kissed the top of your head. “I sent some flowers to your mom too”

“They’re beautiful…” you set them down in the kitchen as he wrapped you in his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I missed you so much” As you hugged him, you stopped for a moment. The lingering scent of a perfume was on him. Your nose was always sensitive, especially when it came to perfumes. The notes, fruity and sweet. His sister never wore perfumes, she had pretty sensitive allergies and this wasn’t her style at all. You took a step back to look at him. “Binnie…” he peered up at you, his usual warmth seemed to be clouded in something. 

If there as one thing working in a bar has taught you it was how to read people. It was like a sixth sense. And there was nothing but guilt on his face. 

“I missed you” he held your face and pulled you into a kiss. His lips coaxing you into deepening it. He continued walking backwards, never wanting to break the kiss, his hands desperate to hold you. Your back hit the mattress as he climbed over you, he pulled his blazer off and loosened his tie.

But there was something about how he touched you that was different. 

He was almost too desperate, not like he was when he was just needy and wanted you but this felt like he had to prove something to you. Like he was trying to overwrite his guilt. 

You had no proof he did anything, and part of you wanted to think it was just because of your own insecurities. But you just had this feeling you weren’t crazy. You were almost never wrong reading people. You’ve seen a lot of infidelity at your bar and you’ve seen the aftermath of the guilt. And there was just something about this. 

You pulled back, pushing your hand against his chest stopping his kisses. You gazed into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Were you with another woman?” You sat up, giving yourself just a little space on the bed. 

His eyes widened as he pulled back, his pupils darting a bit too much. Like he was thinking. “I had that meeting this afternoon, Noona was there” You’d never seen your boyfriend look so panicked before.

“And only her?” And there it was again, that look on his face while he tried to come up with something. Changbin never lied to you, but he was so obviously trying to hide something. “You smell like her… You smell like another girl, it’s not like you to get that close to someone during a meeting that you come home smelling like them…”

“I...Yes… My meeting was with a woman…” he sighed “I’m sorry for hiding it, I just didn’t want you to worry”

“I’ve never complained before… I don’t understand why you had to hide it”

“You never complain…. That’s the problem, if something bothers you, you just deal with it, and I didn’t want you to have to do that again” his voice, holding something much heavier than the weight stemming from this argument.

“And your solution to that was to hide it from me? I understand the sentiment but you didn’t need to. I’m fine. Hiding it makes it seem worst, it’s not like it was an arranged marriage” you tried to laugh it off, to show him that it didn’t bother you. That you weren’t the clingy insecure girlfriend plagued by jealously. 

And you thought it worked for a bit. You smiled and laughed until you saw how his head fell, how his shoulders slumped, how he fiddled with the cuffs on his shirt. “Are you kidding me?” you pushed away from him. “You seriously went on a-”

“I told her no” his voice desperate as he reached for you. 

“Don’t touch me” you pulled your arm from him. “You went on an arranged marriage meeting, and hid it from me? And tried to turn this on me?” you stormed out of your bedroom.

“I just didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want you to worry-”

“You didn’t want to hurt me? But you went to meet another woman with the prospects of marriage?” you grabbed your jacket and your phone.

“Where are you going? Baby please talk to me don’t-”

“Don’t.” you warned him as you slipped on your shoes. 

“It’s late, please just stay here lets talk about this.”

“Talk? Now you want to talk? Let’s talk about how you lied to me and hid this from me? Let’s talk about how you didn’t want to hurt me because you realized I was insecure and then proceeded to do the very thing I was scared about? If it didn’t mean anything why lie?”

“I’m sorry, I messed up I-”

“Save it, and if you come after me you’ll never see me again.” you slammed the door as you stormed out. 

To be continued….

» Next►

I’m sorrrrrryyyy only one more chapter left. This chapter was mostly plot and angst

Masterlist

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@skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo @tonfilm @soobinssmile

[goose-books]

darklingverse & magic

as promised! a look at the magical system in my speculative fiction loose-retelling-of-king-lear WIP, which you can find out more about here and here! this is a terribly, terribly long post, so i’m sticking most of it under a cut, but i can guarantee there are at least a few fun diagrams in there. (all character images used are from this picrew by cinnasmores!)

shoutout to waya @harehearts​ for helping me work out some of the kinks in this by asking incredibly helpful questions... waya i will untag you if you want i just wanted to appreciate your contribution. also going to tag @suits-of-woe​ because you mentioned wanting to see this!

Jasper’s dad talks about it like oil. Petroleum has to be refined before you can put it in your car. Unrefined, it’ll just as soon kill you as anything else. The natural clock ticks. A mage hits twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen. And then it’s roaring under their skin, like an electric volt, like a fever, burning in them, fighting tooth and nail to get out.

It always gets out. You pick the route. Or you don’t.

The first thing Vee ever learned was duplication. Small objects only. Jasper was crawling through stacks of post-it notes for weeks. It was like an illness: Vee would get too itchy, his magic nipping at his neck, and he’d clench his fists and then they’d have another goddamn stack of stickies. “He has to get it out somehow,” Dad had admonished Jasper, when he’d complained. “Otherwise it’ll hurt him. I do it, too. The difference is I’m useful.” And he had demonstrated by snapping his fingers and cleaning all the house’s dishes at once.

Jasper is loath to give his father props for anything. But he was, on that particular occasion, right. Within a year Vee could flick his hands and shut windows, heat leftovers, unlock doors, send laundry skittering across the floor into the hamper.

It makes sense; Vee’s an infuriatingly quick study, magically and academically. And he inherited their dad’s style of magic. Easygoing. Quiet. Unobtrusive. Less explosive, more creative. Nowadays the worst that happens when he gets hot under the collar is that he spawns another houseplant and Jasper has to brush the leaves off the kitchen table.

Because Vee followed Dad’s instructions. He annotated all of his textbooks. He mastered it early, by seventeen, because of-fucking-course he did, but he was already in control by fifteen. Everyone learns to control their magic eventually.

Most people do eventually.

— darkling, segment iv: control

okay so let’s get into this!!!

isn’t darkling a modern king lear retelling? what do you mean, “the magic system?”

great question! darkling is, in fact, a modern king lear retelling (well, very loosely; it’s my city now and i reserve the right to do what i want). it takes place entirely in and around a city called dovermorry, an extremely isolated place secluded in the mountains, surrounded by wilderness for hundreds of miles, and only reachable via a single train through the mountains. dovermorry is loosely in the american northwest, sort of, i guess. by which i mean that’s kind of where i’m picturing it, but also it’s incredibly vague and honestly i don’t really know. dovermorry is, like, you know… [gesturing] it’s around. [kicking any kind of definable map under the rug]

the plot is set in the modern day with modern technology. the magic that exists is woven into daily life alongside said modern technology, which is the primary reason i’m calling darkling speculative fiction. most people in darklingverse aren’t actually heavily affected by magic (for reasons i’ll get into but which basically boil down to “they don’t have much”); however, dovermorry as a city is mostly known for being The Place Where Mages Go. most of the families in the city have been there for a long time; they’re old money families with powerful magic who use their inheritances to study increasingly esoteric forms of magic that aren’t very helpful in praxis. this is because dovermorry is home to the large and powerful Mage’s Guild, which is in charge of setting the laws around what kind of magic can be practiced in the city and by who. if you want to study magic at a scholarly level, you’d better pay your dues to the guild, otherwise you’re gonna get the boot.

every large city has a guild, but dovermorry’s in specific is Really Big and, unusually, has more political power than the actual mayor / government of the city. partially because leovald stayer, the guild’s president, is just… ughghhebwfbefbdsbfbdsfsd. That Way. in dovermorry if you’re not getting the boot you’re licking it

“wait, slow down. what is a mage anyway?”

well, technically, anyone! everyone in darklingverse has at least a little bit of natural magic (though it might be very little) that develops during puberty/adolescence! so by its literal definition, A Person Who Does Magic, everyone is a mage. that said, in colloquial terms, the word mage has taken on a connotation that basically means… exactly the kind of people who live in dovermorry. like i just said: scholarly, probably rich, probably a little elitist. so your average working-class person is TECHNICALLY a mage, but if you asked they’d say something like, “oh, mages are those hoity-toity folks who join guilds and stuff, WE’RE just regular folks over here.”

“you keep saying magic. what are you talking about. magic is a word that means so many things”

don’t worry, in darkling it just means [gestures vaguely]. re: everyone has magic, it develops in puberty, and there aren’t really specifications - it isn’t like some folks get fire magic and others get shapeshifting magic or etc. it’s more like everyone has a certain amount of raw energy inside them that can be drawn out and funneled into different tasks/spells. some ground rules:

1. you can’t change the amount of magic you have. your magic develops naturally, and maybe you get a lot of raw energy, or maybe you only get a little, but that’s what you’re stuck with and no amount of practicing is gonna give you more.

2. that said, magic is hard to control when it first develops - and practicing WILL help you get better at controlling it. so while you’ll always have the same base amount, you’ll get faster and more efficient about concentrating it into tasks.

3. re: amount of raw energy: that shit isn’t limitless. whether you have a lot or a little, it will eventually run out and you’ll have to wait for your juice to recharge. like a battery. you are a battery. how long this recharge period takes depends on how much magic you have, how fast you used it all up (if you push your limits to do something Really Big, you’re gonna be wiped), and also just how you’re doing physically in general? if you use up all of your magic in one go and you haven’t slept in a while, you might want to, like, sit down. drink a juice box. take a nap

4. while magic isn’t limitless, you can’t just NOT use it, either. when you aren’t using your magic, that raw magical energy builds up in you. and builds up. and builds up. and it does not particularly want to be in you. it wants to be out in the world, actually, and by god your fragile human meatsack is not going to stop it. so if you don’t choose a task to funnel your magical energy into (eg, i use my built-up energy to send my socks scuttling across the floor of their own accord to get into the laundry basket), that energy will eventually decide to just come out on its own. more on this later.

5. like i said, the mage’s guild of any particular city sets the rules, but there’s generally one core rule and that’s “don’t do necromancy.” like, obviously you’re not allowed to kill someone magically, but you’re also not allowed to kill someone NONMAGICALLY, so that’s kind of a given? but necromancy is something only a few very powerful mages can do and it is a BIG no-no. don’t fuck around with death, man. people don’t come back right, but also, just, like, let them rest, all right? let the dead rest.

[image description: the “society if X” meme, showing a futuristic “ideal” society full of green landscapes, smooth silver buildings, and flying cars. the text on the top reads “society if no one did necromancy.” the text on the bottom reads “this post made by the official mage’s guild don’t do necromancy you freaks bottom text.” in the corner you can see the imgflip.com watermark that i could have erased were i less lazy.]

“so what CAN you do with magic?”

the average joe? not much. again, there aren’t specific categories of magic; there aren’t any ATLA-style bending divisions. if you and i have the same raw amount of energy, there’s no reason we can’t both learn the same spells.

that said, the average person doesn’t have a lot of magic! it is much less dramatic than i’ve made it sound. there are not big magical firefights happening marvel-movie-style on every city street. if you want to talk to your friend, you use your iphone, not some kind of distance-speaking spell (which would be hard to maintain anyway and oh my god the phone lines are right there). the average person, on a daily basis, will use their small amounts of magic to heat their coffee up, or to wipe up a mess or spill, or to clean their floor re: the socks i mentioned earlier. (while writing this post, i had to begrudgingly admit that the socks were not going to scuttle anywhere, and i was forced to pick them up with my hands, manually. tragic, i know.)

again. dovermorry is the exception to this rule. most of the people in dovermorry have a little too much money and a little too much magic and not nearly enough chill. but dovermorry has also been festering like a petri dish alone up in the mountains for decades so what can you do.

“hold on, are you telling me that people in darklingverse didn’t immediately start wielding innate magic quantities as a tool of classism? sounds fake”

regretfully i cannot retcon classism out of darklingverse as it is relevant to the plot. this is because the plot is “Incredible: This Rich White Guy Has Never Been Told No And Doesn’t Know How To Handle It Without Crytyping!”

[image description: a picrew of leovald stayer, a pale-skinned man with short blond hair and an angry-looking frown, plus tears that i drew onto him with the paint tool in paint.net. beside his head is red crytyping text reading “ii’mm sso; so..rryy i didn’t[ mme  a nit wwhy . are yu,,o suiiicdee .bai,,it,ing MMe gr;;acen im yuour da[d,,,”]

the general implicit belief across the country, but especially in highly stratified cities like dovermorry, is that upper-class people from distinguished noble families are just naturally born with more magic, and lower-class people are born with progressively less as we trip down the social ladder. is this kind of true, demographically? yeah but everyone’s got their cause-and-effect turned around. class doesn’t dictate natural magic so much as natural magic dictates class. the people on top like to be on top. and having jacked-up magic is a nice way to stay on top. so rip to the rich kids born with piddly little amounts of raw magic, because your family probably is not going to help you get places. and rip to everyone else born with piddly little amounts of magic, too, because unless you’re REALLY good at something nonmagical, you probably are not going to Strike It Big because those in power are gonna keep you down. and if you DO make it to the top you’ll be viewed as an exception that proves the rule.

there is some magic that is genuinely naturally harder to work with. the upper classes are personally really invested in making sure that kind of magic is painted as rough and lower-class. this is because it is threatening to them! and they do not want to be threatened. unless, of course, it’s them with the hard-to-handle magic. and then they’re fine with it.

“but didn’t you say everyone’s magic is basically the same?”

everyone’s magic can be wielded to do basically the same things. you can’t control how much flows through you. you CAN control where/how it gets out. and everyone’s pathways for how to let it out are basically the same (see the examples i mentioned above!). but some magic is a lot easier to control than other magic.

you can’t just not use magic, because if you don’t use it, it will use itself. it will Do Shit On Its Own. and that’s where this gets sticky.

so let’s get into that.

active vs. passive magic

now with fun diagrams!

[image description: a rainbow spectrum stretching from blue to red. the leftmost end (blue) is labeled “’passive’ magic” and “way down here you can mostly do fun party tricks.” the rightmost end (red) is labeled “’active’ magic” and “way down here you’re officially a ‘witch’ lol.”]

when i say active vs. passive magic, i should specify that this is not a strict binary! i’m about to use the terms in a sort of binary way to simplify this post down, but magic exists on a spectrum.* generally the less raw magic energy you have, the more “passive” your magic will be, but that’s not a hard and fast rule! characters vee and rory, for example, both have comparatively passive magic; however, rory’s is smaller and generally good for party tricks, illusions, and sleight of hand, while vee has more magic that he finds is really good for things like Growing Plants Really Fast and Making The Plants Do What You Want.

*i know this looks like some kind of metaphor for gender but i swear it’s not. you can trans your gender no matter WHAT your magic looks like i promise <3

i mentioned that if it builds up for too long unused, magic will Do Shit On Its Own. with passive magic, the Shit It Does is, like, accidentally growing a plant where plants shouldn’t grow, or changing your hair color when you aren’t looking. slow seeping magic that just kind of oozes out of you until you notice, “wait, shit, my hair didn’t used to be blue.” with active magic, if you don’t control it, it will Break Shit and it will not be nice about it.

active magic is - if we simplify both the magic binary and human genetics until they’re really really blurry - the dominant trait. if you made a middle school biology punnet square, active magic would be the dominant allele and passive the recessive allele. (i haven’t taken a bio class in two years no one get my ass for this analogy.) the child’s magic will take after whichever parent has more active magic. so, to illustrate that, let’s look at a normal family with a normal non-scandalous family tree. by which of course i mean the greenwoods. [canned laugh track playing in the studio]

here are ara, griffin, and medea (parents) charted by how active their magic is:

[image description: the same spectrum, now featuring three picrews of characters. ara, a dark-skinned woman with wavy black hair, freckles, and glasses, is placed leftmost, closest to the blue/passive end. griffin, a dark-skinned man with short black hair and glasses, is placed near the middle of the spectrum, slightly to the left. medea, a pale-skinned woman with spiky white hair, freckles, and gold hoop earrings, is placed rightmost, at the very edge of the red/active end.]

...and here’s how that went for them, progeny-wise:

[image description: a little family tree. ara and griffin’s child, vee, a dark-skinned person with wavy black hair, a worried look, and band-aids on his face, is labeled “quiet unobtrusive plant-based magic” in green text. medea and griffin’s child, jasper, a lighter-skinned person with spiky brown hair and freckles, is labeled “once accidentally shattered 50 champagne glasses at his dad’s birthday party” in red text.]

(yes, i know i said there aren’t any ATLA-esque magical divisions; that’s still true; vee just happens to get on really, really well with plants. much like jasper gets on really really well with entropy and causing problems on purpose.)

so the thing about “active” magic is that it’s usually more powerful, but if it’s too powerful it gets incredibly destructive. like i said earlier - if you’re part of the upper class, it shakes out fine; otherwise not so much. your choices with this kind of dangerous magic are to either fight it and keep it tamped down, or to lean completely into it and embrace your massive amounts of dangerous power. if you are rich, you can do that second thing! that’s what leovald stayer does, and he’s the president of the mage’s guild! good for him! [i say, through gritted teeth.] but if you aren’t rich, you had better try to keep that shit on lockdown, unless you want to be branded a reckless uncultured social deviant and - in most cases - a witch.

mages vs. witches

everyone with magic is a mage. only a few mages are witches. it’s like squares and rectangles, you know? you can hear gracen talk about that here in nice prose (plus baby cressida!), but the bottom line is that “witch” is shorthand for “woman* who has magic so powerful it’s unsafe, who uses it to break shit and be reckless,” and anyone with the “wrong” type of magic who doesn’t have a trust fund to back them up is getting tarred with that brush. they’re nothing like those elegant learned mages casting down benevolent laws from their ivory towers, you see.

*this isn’t a gender specific thing but usually women are the ones who get called witches because Women Should Know How To Control Themselves But Men Are Just Like That. god we love misogyny <3

tl;dr: misogyny and classism real. if you have hard-to-control magic that breaks shit then you’re destined to be a pariah UNLESS of course you’re rich and powerful and then it’s COOL that if you got too out-of-control you could collapse a building or cause a monumental storm or something. you know. cool.

[image description: the same magic spectrum. medea is still there, placed exactly where she was before. leovald’s face is also there, right above hers; in terms of magic, they are equally placed on the spectrum. leovald is labeled “runs the whole city” and medea is labeled “lives in a cave in the woods,” both in white text. there are three thinking emojis at the very top of the image.]

funny how these things work out.

in conclusion

in conclusion, if you’ve read all of this, you’re braver than the marines and have my undying love. if you’re down here for a tl;dr: magic is a natural force everyone is born with; some magic is comparatively harder to control; classism & other social structures affect the way a person’s magic is viewed (there are a lot of double standards); i really enjoy making little oc diagrams.

if you have questions, comments, etc, about this post or darkling in general, my ask box is always open! thank you for reading! [blowing you a kiss]

[cosmiclatte28]

TEMPO (racer reader x sehun, nct, exo) #3

Hi you made it this far... 

read the previous chapters here 1 / 2 

Meanwhile..

“Yes Kai! It’s a big win tonight. Come on let’s party. Drinks are on Kai tonight!” Baekhyun cheers loudly when Kai returns to them with the money.

“Easy game tonight?” Lay speaks up.

Kai ponders for a moment “It’s a rough game.. I’m surprised by the 127 racer. It’s a girl right? I saw her small body .. I must say she’s a tough one. Though I managed to kick her and made her lost her balance. She fell right before the finish line.”

“Not really a gentleman are you?” Chanyeol teases him. “Anyways it’s a competition. Someone’s bound to win and someone’s bound to lose. Tonight the spotlight is yours! Shall we party?”

Kai, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Lay, and the others made their way to the nearest bar to celebrate Kai’s first win in the new cage.

“I think I saw Sehun earlier.. he has changed! He goes to street racing now.. what is he doing..” Lay blurts out when they finished several bottles down.

“Oh right! You saw him too? I thought I was seeing things.” Kai abruptly sit up straight.

“Maybe it’s someone like Sehun. I don’t think this place is his style.” Baekhyun cuts the wild imaginations and the two men seem to agree they’re just seeing things.

--

Kai becomes the new star player after (y/n). Because (y/n) is in hiatus.. Kai actually dominates the track. Yuta does beat him in most of the races, but in other programs where Yuta did not sign up, Kai is the favorite player.

Apparently for Kai, the competitors here are too easy for him. He is looking for that one player. The mysterious girl he knocked off on his first race. He knows she’s not playing probably because of what he did, but Kai has never seen her properly. Let alone know her name or status here. Funny how deep in his heart he feels bad whenever he remembers the scene. Kai knows it’s coward for him to kick a girl opponent.. and most importantly she looks smaller than the other players.

After finishing his race, he walks to Kris who acts as his manager and asks “Hyung. Do you know where is the 127 girl that I beat on my first race here?”

“Oh that girl.. she’s on break. Her left hand is fractured.. she’s actually the ace player here before you come.”

“Whose team is she in?” Kai looks around the crowd.

“I’m pretty sure that young boys.. over there.. sharp gazes tight pants leather jackets.. pink and purple hair” Kris points to Taeyong and Jaehyun.

“Wait.. I know them..” Kai puts his vision to the small group. He knows the other two.. it’s Johnny and Yuta.

“Apparently the brunette boy is also their racer for the short track program. He beats you several time right?” Kris shifts his gaze to the small team too.

Kai nods “Yeah. Yuta is a tough racer. Where is their ace.. shouldn’t she come and watch?”

Kris shrugs his shoulder “I don’t know Kai.. anyways I see Sehun was with them on that day.”

Kai freezes in his place. So he and Lay were not seeing things. Sehun was there on that day. Hmm funny how the world makes them see each other again.

“I’m curious. What makes a boy like Sehun jumps into this muddy lifestyle.” Kai grins slyly.

That keeps on going on until one day.. (y/n) is back on track. Kai has his golden opportunity to talk with her and ask her some more about herself. She welcomes him nicely.. without realizing Kai is actually an enemy of Sehun.. the man she starts to grow fond with.

“You’re too young to be here.” Kai puts on his favorite boy mask. I mean he’s a homme fatale. Of course girls will get head over heels for him… and this cute racer in front of him catches his attention since day one.

“That’s what people will always say as their first impression. I’m seventeen. Legal to drive.” She proudly smirks.

Kai chuckles “Let’s make a deal.”

“What deal? I’m on for challenges.” She arrogantly folds her hand on her chest.

It’s been a while since someone dares to challenge and mess up with her.. people all stop challenging her when they know the real color of this cute girl. Plus Kai looks tempting and nice.

“We play fair and square tonight. If you win I’ll let you do what you want.. if I win.. you’ll do what I want you to do.” Kai raises his brow.

“Does that means you’re ready to be my personal butler? I really need one right now and you look perfect!” She puts on her cat eyes. Kai definitely curses in his heart when he melts at those eyes.

He sighs. Of course her bets will be something silly like this.. she’s seventeen after all. What do you expect Kai.

He sighs “Okay. And if I win.. you’ll do what I want. I’ll think about it later.”

“Don’t bother thinking. You’ll be my butler! For a whole month! Be prepared Kai.” She playfully pinches his cheek and walks away to Sehun. Kai’s eyes follow her and he smiles in secret when he sees Sehun.

Old friend he missed. Is there any way to annoy him again? Maybe by winning the race and force her to be his girl? Or just by losing and being her personal butler. That means Kai will have more time with her than Sehun did right? And with his skills he can make sure Sehun knows about it and gets jealous.

Kai laughs hysterically to himself and make his way to his team. He told them to bet low on him, tonight he has a plan. The whole team just follow his words. They know Kai is probably up for a silly business deals he made for fun.

The race starts, after a secret goodluck kiss from Sehun, (y/n) sits on her bike and glances at Kai. She growls her engine and winks when the MC queue the count down. The number hits one and they all push their gas to the limit.

Tonight marks the first return of the Ace Queen (y/n) and she lives to her name. The money tonight is a huge amount, people are excited seeing Kai and (y/n) in the race together once again.. the fact that she wins brings her over the moon, not because of the money, but the silly deal she made with Kai.

She quickly slips away when no one is watching and Kai sees her move, so he swiftly make his way too. The two meet again on the same quiet spot they talked earlier.

“Congratulations Ace! You really played nice today. I’m sad yet honored to lose before you.” Kai jokingly gets down on one of his knee and looks deep into her eyes.

She blushes from the intense stare. Kai is really attractive and cool. Different from Sehun who makes her feel comfortable, she feels a burning desire in her heart and turning stomach whenever Kai throws her that smoldering look.

“Okay Kai! You’re officially my butler for one month! Give me your number.”

“Eager are we? Smooth way to get my number.” Kai winks.

“Not that! I need your number to call you if I need anything.” Kai inputs his number to her phone and place it under the name Kai, “Perfect! Now get ready to answer my calls in random times. We should meet to make more agreements. I don’t want my butler to be lazy and a handful.”

Kai begins to regret his choice. If she’s only bossing over him, where’s the fun? But he’ll see how this go.

“Alright Kai oppa.. see you!” she waves her hand and jogs to her team.

Kai happily descends to his friends and acts like nothing happens.

(y/n) keeps the deal in secret. The whole world knows if Jaehyun heard this, he won’t allow his sister to have a butler like Kai. Come on people like Jaehyun knows how dangerous Kai and his populations are. So she keeps it low to herself.

--

(y/n) POV

I return to my small apartment alone. My friends live in another floor, but I have a small studio for myself. Maybe because I enjoy living alone with my mess. Oh yeah Jaehyun has been lecturing me about cleaning my room, but I’m a busy girl. I have no time to clean my mess. Morning until noon I study at school, then I have a lesson date with Sehun (since he treated me every time.. I cannot turn the offer down.. it’s a good way to save money) then at night I have to study for my tests and do my works just to make it in time to race the night and earn my money. Then I will go home, smoke a bit, and sleep my 6 hours sleep and wake up and repeat the cycle. Except some days I don’t race.

So having Kai as my butler.. means a free house cleaner, chef, and laundry man.

I welcome him on a peaceful Monday night. He shows up by 7 and we agree on our rules.

“No feelings attached… no complaining… no sleeping in my room… and no inappropriate acts.”

He easily agrees and I told him he will have to help me for my cleaning, laundry, and maybe cooking. But turns out he can’t cook, so I have to cook by myself to avoid food poisoning.

“(Y/n) I swear.. your room is super unlike you. How can a cute girl like you live in this dirty room?!” Kai is shocked when he needs to start cleaning.

I shrug my shoulder as I pick one stick of cigarette and lights it up “I’m busy.. and I have not enough time to clean up.”

Kai stops his activity of vacuuming when he sees me blows a smoke “You.. you even smoke!”

I Roll my eyes “Like you yourself don’t… come on Kai.. you’re not my boyfriend or my father.. don’t lecture me.”

“I mean.. I did not expect anything like this coming from you..” He continues vacuuming.

I grin “Nice. That means you will not try to win my heart. A good sign.. I can sleep peacefully without worrying you will take the chance to fuck me.”

Kai smirks “Be careful.. I never said I don’t like girls like that.. besides these things might have turned me on.”

I Hit his back “Cut it off. There’s more to do.”

After vacuuming the floors, he cleans up the cigarette buds while wondering “Do you really finish this much? It’s like two box worth of buds..”

“No.. my brother and his friends sometimes come here.. they smoke too.. plus my friends.. everyone leaves their buds here.. so don’t think I’m that maniac. I have to live a week with this one box.. my money is limited to number of races I won remember?”

Kai seems to get it now.. that I am living half independently. My parents are still funding my tuition fees and apartment rental costs, but for my exclusives I have to earn my own money.

“Why don’t you share a room with your brother? I heard he’s a tidy guy.” Kai actually knows Jaehyun and the others: they were once on the same dance group, but Kai left to focus on his racing more.

“Seriously.. they share a house for 4 people. I have no more space. And I am not living with those loud boys. I mean I also can’t live peacefully seeing Taeyong’s handsome face.. Yuta’s smile and Johnny’s attention. I’ll fail all my tests and make it awkward. “

Kai laughs at my tacky remarks. But deep inside his heart, Kai finds this small girl interesting and challenging.

They talk more and laugh about many different things. She told Kai that for the laundry, she has separated the piles of the private ones and the ones he can clean. She told him which basket he has to take for laundry, the soap and softener she likes, and Kai notes how adorable she is when she gets happy over small things : like the smell of her softener.

“Which floor is it again?”

“Fifth floor. Now go. I’ll cook us some ramyeon. I’m sure you’re hungry.. besides you did quite well.”

Kai finds her unique and adorable rather than annoying. He sees her as the living proof of younger sister he had always imagined. Cute but at the same time sassy and playful.

After an hour, he returns with a pile of clean and fresh laundry. She also finishes cooking the meal and welcomes Kai to sit across her.

“Thanks! I thought you’ll let me eat on the floor.”

she laughs “Aigo.. I’m not that mean. Let’s eat.”

They dig in and afterwards the clock shows it’s already 9.30. Kai knows the rule, he got to go home. That’s the manners. She offers him a cigarette and he accepts it. With that one lighted bar, Kai goes home with a warm heart and big smile.

ON the other hand, (y/n) is busy replying the texts Sehun sent but she did not reply before.

Chapter 4

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.15

Summary: After a lazy morning and brunch together, their schedules go back to normal leaving the trio to find time together when they can. When they finally have a night planned off together again, an unimaginable issue halts their plans.  Master list can be found HERE.

Warnings / Content: The beginning is fluff but end involves an injury to one of main characters. Nothing is overly specific or graphic, but the person does end up in the hospital. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Only three more chapters and then a (very) short epilogue after this. I feel like it’s gone so quickly since I started posting! This chapter ends a little, okay very, rough. Remember that I love you all and the next chapter will be out tomorrow night! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Fifteen

Emma was the first one awake the next morning. She felt like she was roasting alive, tangled between her guys who were both doing their best furnace impressions. She felt sweaty, sticky from their heat, and when she tried to wriggle away Bucky just held onto her tighter, keeping her in place. “Mmm no.” he grumbled, half awake. 

Emma leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, “You’re a furnace.” she chastised him mildly. 

“So ‘re you.”

“I’m temperate.” Steve interjected, surprising them both that he was awake.

“You were a furnace too.” Emma told him. 

“This is nice.” Bucky commented, reaching across Emma to run his hand along Steve’s arm affectionately. 

“I never want to leave this bed.” Emma moaned happily. 

“Then don’t.” 

“I need a shower. And the lure of creme brulee french toast is strong.” 

“Okay that is tempting. But you know what else is?”

“Showering together.” 

“If we shower together we won’t get out of this apartment until noon.” 

“We can behave! Right, Stevie?”

“Huh?” Steve snapped to attention, having been preoccupied with the way the light hit Emma’s hair creating a multi-tonal sea of auburn hair that his fingers itched to try and paint. 

Bucky raised his voice slightly, “We can all behave if we shower together before going out.” 

Steve nodded, “That’s fine.” 

Emma shrugged, hoping they would both be true to their word. 

In the end, she was pleasantly surprised. Both men were able to keep things from going too far and, although there were kisses and the occasional straying hand, they behaved themselves. Emma was towel drying her hair in the bedroom, unwilling to waste time on a blower dryer, despite Bucky’s offer for her to borrow his. He had likewise foregone the dryer, instead letting his long brunette hair air dry in natural waves and curls. He gave Emma some of the leave in conditioner he favored and she ended up snapping a picture of the bottle to buy herself some later. It smelled wonderful and she liked knowing she’d smell like him all day. 

Emma shot Steve a small smile when he perched his glasses back on his nose and got his hearing aid back in place. “That has to be better.” she commented. 

He blushed lightly but nodded, “It’s not so bad without them but it is nice being able to see you better and hear you on both sides.” 

“I want you to be able to see and hear me. It doesn’t bother me that you need a little help to do it.” 

Bucky sighed quietly across the room while he pulled on his black tee. Emma was so intuitive with Steve. He knew the tiny blonde like the back of his hand after spending a lifetime with him, but Emma had rapidly picked up on his little tells and was able to ferret out his concerns with impressive accuracy. It made Bucky want to learn all of her little tells even more. She deserved the same kindness and acceptance that she showed them. Bucky mused he’d figure them out eventually. If he could figure out Steve, Emma should be a walk in the park. 

Emma was running hair hands through Steve’s hair, helping him style it a little so it wouldn’t flop in his eyes. He was practically beaming under her care and Bucky couldn’t help but join them. He came up behind Emma, placing his warm hands on her hips and pulling her close. He moved her wet single braid of hair away from her neck and sprinkled kisses across her skin. She shuddered and swatted him away when she finished with Steve. “Doesn’t he look nice?” she prompted.

Bucky admired Steve for a beat before smiling broadly. “He looks like a million bucks.” Bucky drew Steve in to him, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces so he could duck his head and capture Steve’s lips with his own. 

Emma took the opportunity to get dressed herself, throwing on her favorite soft jeans, a cotton camisole, and an old black and grey flannel shirt. She was comfortable and stylish, with just a hint of sexy thrown in from the low neckline of her camisole and the way her jeans clung to her curves. The guys were still making out and whispering to each other quietly between kisses once she was ready, so she perched at the edge of the bed to enjoy the show. It was a little voyeuristic but she was allowed to watch and she was taking full advantage of it. 

Steve caught her eyes first and pushed Bucky away, whispering something that had the other man laughing lightly. “Ready, doll?” he asked her, discreetly wiping the side of his kiss bruised lips. 

“Whenever you two are.” she assured him with smirk.

“Oh no,” Bucky warned, “Don’t start. I was promised diner breakfast and, in case you two forgot, I have a super soldier metabolism to keep up with.” 

Emma stood up and patted a hand to Bucky’s chest on her way past him, “Trust me, we didn’t forget.” she told him with a cheeky wink. 

Steve snorted, covering his outburst with a cough, and then quickly followed Emma out to grab their coats before Bucky could respond. 

The diner on 5th was a short walk from the guys apartment and they had been there a few times before, but only for dinner or lunch. Emma had raved about their breakfast creations but insisted they wait until she could go with them. Two bites into his breakfast scramble and Bucky had told her that promise no longer stood. He all but inhaled the scrambled mix of eggs, potatoes, various meats, and cheese. After stealing a few bites of Emma’s french toast he ordered a plate for himself before she actually got him with the fork she kept trying to poke him with in revenge. Emma was happy as ever with her tall pile of brioche french toast loaded down with creme brulee filling and shards of caramelized sugar. Steve had opted for egg benedict but instead of having an english muffin base, it was over top tall slices of toasted brioche and the ham was the thick spiral cut kind. Both men couldn’t stop talking about how good the food was the entire way home and Emma just laughed, reminding them she’d happily go with them anytime.

Since it was a rare day off for all three of them, Emma agreed to lounge around their place for the day. There was nothing pressing that any of them needed to do and it was nice to just relax for a change. The only downside was, by the time she needed to head home in the evening none of them wanted to part. She knew she needed to go, the guys were both off to work in the morning, with Bucky leaving before the sun was even up. They passed her back and forth, unwilling to let go until, finally, cooler heads prevailed and Emma left with promises to see them again in a few days. Steve would have off on Thursday so she’d see him at Matty’s then, and they would both likely pop in on Saturday to see her. 

Though the night air was still a little cool Emma took her time walking home, letting herself daydream a little about the past twenty four hours. She wished they’d had more time but she had to get back to her normal life eventually. Every moment with them felt like a dream, something warm and wonderful but separate from her day to day life. She wondered if they’d ever actually become part of her day to day. If they’d ever get to the point of doing laundry side by side, taking turns cooking dinner, and sleeping together every night. It was a nice fantasy, but knowing how devoted they were to each other she doubted it would ever become reality. Emma frowned, not at the thought, but at her reaction to it. She expected it to sting a little, when she remembered she was the interloper in their lives, but she loved how much they cared for each other and she knew she would never do anything to disrupt what they had. It was enough, she thought to herself, it had to be. 

xxXxx

After their day off together their routines went back to normal for a few weeks. The guys popping in on their days off and on Saturdays together. They’d always find one day where their schedules aligned and they were able to grab lunch or dinner together too. Sometimes it was just a short few hours to lounge on the guys sofa and eat sandwiches before Emma had to head to work and Steve was off to one of his appointments, but they made it work. Eventually though, their schedules aligned again and the guys both had off on a night she did. After spending all their time at the guy’s apartment Emma had insisted that they come to her place for a change. She wanted to cook for her guys and something about having them in her space made her feel all nervous and excited. Like it was a milestone of them being together or something. Emma didn’t dwell on trying to pinpoint it, she just knew it felt special and she was going to make it perfect.

After a full day of cleaning her small apartment top to bottom, Emma was exhausted. She still had three hours until the guys were due over and she was trying to talk herself into getting off the sofa and prepping dinner. She wanted to get everything done ahead of time so once she was showered, dressed, and ready for the guys to arrive all she had to do was pop the lasagna in the oven and wait. 

Emma had just started getting the ingredients together when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She pulled it out with a frown, assuming it was a telemarketer or a scam. No one called these days, it was all texts. When she saw Steve’s face on the screen her expression quickly changed. She had wanted to ask him about allergies one last time anyway.

“I was just thinking about you, baby.” she told him sweetly. 

“Emma.” Steve’s voice was ragged, “It’s Bucky.”

“What?” she breathed, terrified of what was causing his tone of voice.

Steve continued like he hadn’t even heard her. “I’m sending a car for you. They’re taking him to New York Presbyterian, he should be there any minute now.” 

Emma was fighting for composure, “Okay, I’ll be there.” Numb from shock she put away the food she’d brought out for lasagna until the buzz of her intercom sounded and Happy announced his arrival to pick her up. 

“What happened?” Emma asked from the back seat, her own voice sounding strangely calm to her ears while her mind was screaming in fear. 

Happy, despite his name, looked anything but. “I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t have all the details.”

“But what do you know?”

“Well, it’s not good.” the grim set of his mouth made it clear he was done talking about it and Emma slumped back into her seat, defeated. 

Emma wished she was a religious person so that she had someone to pray to while she waited the agonizing eighteen minute drive to the hospital. Instead she just wrapped her arms around her waist, holding herself in a futile attempt for comfort while she prayed up to the universe that Bucky would be okay. The second Happy stopped the car outside the emergency room Emma was bursting out of the car, running in until she saw a familiar face. Pepper Potts was unmistakable, her glossy hair and pale lilac suit all screaming wealth and professionalism. “Emma,” Pepper said, a statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” Emma nodded.

“He’s on the third floor, I’ll take you.” 

Pepper didn’t elaborate on what had happened or what unit the third floor was, letting Emma trail behind her as they hurried through the hallways and elevator. There were ICU signs along the walls and the fact that they were following the same path as the signs didn’t seem like a coincidence to Emma. A gnawing fear took root in her gut and she was frantic by the time she saw Steve talking to a group of people in white doctor’s coats. 

Emma screamed Steve’s name as she burst past Pepper, running into his arms. He stumbled back a step, accepting her in his arms without question. Steve murmured soft comforting okay’s and I got you’s while Emma clung to him. The scent of his cologne and the crisp wild undercurrent that was uniquely him filled Emma’s senses, comforting her despite the fear that still clawed in her chest. After a few long minutes Emma pulled back apologizing but Steve waved her off, making sure the doctors knew she needed to be filled in as well. She recognized Bruce Banner and Helen Cho but the other doctors were unfamiliar, she assumed they were from the hospital. 

Bruce led most of the questions to the doctors, back peddling every so often to explain something to Steve and Emma when the doctors went too far in medical jargon. Helen was more interested in getting to examine Bucky herself which they assured her she could, they just needed to get him out of the OR first. 

Happy’s assessment of “not good” had turned out to be an understatement. The list of what had gone wrong seemed longer than what had gone right. Emma pieced together that Bucky had been helping to evacuate an apartment building that had started collapsing after yet another aftershocks hit the area they were working in. He was more than a dozen stories up and the floor he was on gave out. They’d pulled him out of the rubble thanks to Sam and Redwing but he’d been unconscious since then. His leg was shattered and because of his serum it had started trying to heal before they could set it properly. They’d had to re-break his leg in order to get it positioned to heal properly but they still couldn’t rule out any long term damage. The bruises on his body were deep but were healing as quickly as they could. They just needed him to wake up so they could determine if there was any brain damage. 

“So what do we do now?” Steve asked the doctors, gripping Emma’s hands in his own.

“Now,” Helen said, her voice solemn, “We wait.” 

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk!

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Just Feel Better.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes/ Reader. Warnings: Mentions of suicide, self-harm, depression, etc. Author’s note: Welcome to my super-duper angsty as fuck Endgame compliant Bucky Barnes/ Reader story.

"She said I need you to hold me I'm a little far from the shore And I'm afraid of sinking You're the only one who knows me And who doesn't ignore That my soul is weeping..."

Perhaps life was always meant to be difficult.

Before the blip, things were maybe, at the very least, tolerable. It wasn't easy, but it sure as hell wasn't this hard either. Your days used to be spent on the grounds of the Avengers Compound, whether it be writing, training, or just watching as the lazy white clouds drift past you. Back when you had a family, back when you had Natasha, and Tony, and Clint, and Steve, and Sam and hell, there was an occasion when even Bucky made you feel welcome in his space.

You belonged to this stupid, dysfunctional family, and you were happy.

But perhaps your life was never meant to have it's happily ever after. Not in the way the fairytales described it. Perhaps you were never meant to have your prince charming, never meant to have your family. Because in the blink of an eye, or the snap of fingers, it was gone. Everything you had worked so hard to build, so hard to keep close to you. It was gone in piles of dust and grief.

Over the course of five years, everything became so much harder for you. There were gaps in conversations around the dinner table, days that would go by in silence, the compound was virtually empty on the off chance you found your way there.

Sometimes it gets too much to bear. Sometimes it gets so hard, so intense that you don't know where to turn; what to do, nor how to get through it all. Steve tries, and god does he try. He tells you stories, he holds you as you cry in grief over your lost loved ones.

He spends five years trying to help rebuild you, and you will always love him for that.

You soon figure out that the nights are the worst.

When you can hear your own breathing in the pitch black as you stare up at the ceiling. The window is slightly ajar so the nightmares can crawl in and consume your whole being. Just like they had so many nights before. You can hear the scratching of the tree outside on your window; the scratching you're sure will drive you slowly insane, yet you can't find the need to care anymore. You don't feel like you have much to live for these days anyway.

There would be times when Steve was there, broken in his own grief, his hands roughly gripping you as he thrusts into you.

You both know that you're not in love with each other, it's just two friends mourning.

Four floors up seem almost appropriate; leaning on your steel and glass railing. The large thick glass which separates you from the concrete ground below. How easy it would be to just climb and just free fall to the ground. You don't know why you don't, but the part of you, the sensible part of you tells you that you can't bring more grief to your friends, you try and rebuild what you can with what you have.

Drawing one last breath from your only comfort, you threw the still-lit cigarette over the balcony and walked back inside; wondering what was really keeping you back.

Was it the promise Natasha made that they would find a way to bring everyone back? Was it the pain in Steve's face when he came to visit you at night?

He was there for you when Tony and Natasha died when you collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. It was his arms around her, his voice whispering, promising that everything was going to be okay and that everything was going to get better.

James Buchannan Barnes, the man who, not that you knew it then, would become the singular most important person in your life.

Steve was gone. Tony was gone. Natasha was gone.

And you felt like you were crumbling inside.

Promises were made to be broken.

You can deal with the heartbreak you had endured over the past few years, you can deal with the worried looks the new team would throw at you, the way they stop talking when you walk into the room. What you can't ever deal with, something you can't understand, is the sympathy.

Steve held your hand in his own withered hand, both of you staring out over the lake with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding furiously in your chest.

"Look after him. Give him that same light you gave me all those years ago," You need each other.

The looks they threw you for weeks after; maybe they saw something had changed in you; something had finally snapped.

Because something had changed in you, no one could really put a finger on it, but the weight of the world had settled on your shoulders, and you didn't know how to shake it off no matter how hard you tried. You tried to be okay, you tried to keep your promise to Steve and show Bucky that the world can be a beautiful place, you kept him out of his head when you noticed him thinking too much.

Somewhere along the way, Bucky Barnes became your best friend. And you tried to be okay for him. Except you weren't. And he noticed. Because you weren't you anymore. You weren't the girl who would bounce into the compound every day with a smile on her face, her nails painted some bright and happy color; no.

You had changed, broken.

Hallow.

Bucky, as per usual, was the first one to notice it. Most likely because he was the closest one to you. Almost like your best friend.

At first, it was just the tears which would fall when the doors were closed, then it was your cool demeanor when you placed a gun in the face of a suspect you were interrogating and took the safety off, that was when alarm bells started ringing.

That wasn't your style.

Sam was the first one to pull you aside and asked you if you needed to talk; which, of course, you denied needing. He knew better than everyone that you did need to talk; you needed to cry, shout or hurt someone. Because he knew you weren't dealing with this the way you should be.

Bucky comes by your apartment at least once a week; just to make sure you're okay. Just to make sure your cupboards are stocked, your bills are paid and you're eating properly. He sees your laundry in one corner as you sit on the recliner chair, your laptop on your lap and the music on the tv blaring through the speakers.

“Hey'” He says to you as he steps into the threshold. He watches as you spin round to face him; dark gray circles under her eyes. You look so different without any make-up on.

He couldn't see the marks under your eyes due to it at the compound; but now...God, he realized that you needed him more then he thought. You looked like hell.

“Hey, Buck” You replied, closing down your laptop and sitting up straight.

You watched as he comes around in front of you and sits on the couch; leaning forward with his arms on his knees. He stares at you as if he's trying to figure you out; yet, he quickly realizes, you look as though you don't want to be figured out anymore.

There was once a time when he could make you smile, back in Wakanda,  when he would say something and you would have a quick and witty comeback which would put even Sam to shame; but these days, ever since the aftermath of the snap, ever since your family died and broke apart.

You were broken.

He knew that there was once a time when you would take pride in your appearance, he would watch you sometimes, before the snap,  you would look absolutely beautiful, he found you beautiful before, but when you dolled yourself up, he found himself catching his breath. You would spend about an hour every morning putting your make-up on; picking out an outfit that was fashionable yet workable.

Nowadays, you would throw on whatever you felt like wearing; not caring if it was still dirty or too big for you.

He was worried about you.

Because he had been there, so many years before. He knew what it was like to feel lost, to feel broken and hallow and not knowing where your place was anymore.

Bucky stood up and picked up one of your shirts “When was the last time you did some washing?” He asked you, noticing you stare up at him; not seeing any signs of life inside your once bright eyes.

“I dunno. A while I suppose” You shrugged as you placed the laptop on the desk beside your chair.

“Have you talked to anyone yet?” He asks you; sitting back on the couch “Sam?”

You can't breathe. Every time you do it gets more and more painful. Like a thousand bricks sitting on your chest. Weighing you down, crushing you slowly. “No”

'Why not?' Talk to me.

You don't know. Maybe because you feel like you're a burden. Like your problems are so small and insignificant that they're pointless. Yet, every time you push them away; they crush you again. All your problems weigh down your life until you feel as though you can't take it anymore. So that simple leap from the fourth floor doesn't seem so hard to do.

“Because it's just so hard” Almost too hard.

Bucky walks over to you and crouches down in front of you; his piercing blue eyes staring at you; trying to find something on your face which gives away your emotions. He places his hands on gently on your knees and gives them a reassuring squeeze. “Why?”

Because I'm suffocating.

“It hurts too much Buck” You, for the first time in too long, allows the tears to fall from the back of your eyes.

Tony died and you couldn't help but feel like it was your fault. If only you had been that little bit quicker, if only you had reached Thanos in time to reach the stones before him.  He had a family, whereas you had no one.

It would have been easier for you to sacrifice yourself.

Steve left and you felt like your one last ally was gone. You wondered if Pepper blamed you for Tony's death the way you blamed yourself.

Always hurting someone.

There was absolutely no doubt in your mind about that; you were always hurting someone. If it wasn't from someone taking offense to something you said, it was from you physically hurting them. Shooting them; breaking their hearts. And it killed you almost twice as much.

You wonder if there was a time when this wasn't everything; the pain was so constant in your mind, in the pit of your stomach that it sometimes felt as if you were going to be physically sick. There were times, more than once, when the knife in the second draw of your kitchen was that little bit sharp; and your wrists that little bit too welcoming, but you never could.

Because you were too much of a coward.

You'll never tell anyone that; because you're going to keep it all locked away; like you always does. You're going to keep your fresh, raw emotions locked away in the pit of your stomach because you don't know any other way to deal with them.

The grief was overwhelming inside you. You had never known someone's death to affect you as much as these had. You felt like you were sick yourself; like there really was nothing to get up for.

“I'm here. No matter what” Bucky promises you.

His eyes telling you that he wouldn't have it any other way because, while he and Steve may have been partners and best friends, you were the girl who, unbeknown to her, had stolen his heart away a long time ago.

Before she became who she is now.

“It hurts” You whispered as you clung to his tight-fitting black shirt; feeling him hold you back as the tears fell from your eyes.

“I know it does. And I promise you'll be okay. I've told you this so many times, that I feel like I'm repeating myself with you” He chuckled slightly as you reluctantly let him go and looked around.

You looked around at your apartment, empty cups, take-out boxes, and plates littered your lounge. A small pile of laundry in one corner of your house; you felt surprisingly empty.

He stood up and pulled you up with him “Look, we both know that Steve isn't coming back. No one blames you for Tony. They wouldn't want you to be doing this. They would want you back, he one who could put Sam back in his place with just one comment, the one who would spend a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom because she doesn't think she's pretty enough without it; we want the old you back'” He said; his voice was almost begging.

You swallowed the lump in your throat; you had never heard Bucky beg for anything. And it was all because of you.

You had reduced him to this; begging.

Because it's what you do. You hurt everyone around you.

You don't mean it, but you do it.

And sometimes that hurt comes back for you.

Some call it karma.

You call it fate.

You feel as though fate is laughing at you; that some celestial being is mocking your every move. Making you suffer because they find it amusing to watch you hurt. To watch you feel so cold and so unbeing.

“Come back to us” Bucky pleads as he stares at the tears falling down your cheeks. He places his hands on either side of your face and whispers so softly that you aren't even sure that you heard him properly “Come back to me”

You're so scared. You can feel yourself shake under his touch. The suffocating feeling returns in your stomach and you don't know if you're strong enough to fight it off anymore.

I don't know how.

You don't need to say it; because he sees it in your eyes, the way you're struggling. So gently, as if you were about to break; he stroked your cheek and looked at you “Please”

It was that last please that broke you down; you nodded and clutched your arms around his large, muscular frame. “'m so sorry'” You said as he rubbed your back up and down; reassuring you that you didn't have to be alone anymore. That he was going to be there for you no matter what, that he was there to protect you.

And; so carefully; you pressed your lips to his. So softly at first then harder. Your need for him became so apparent that he didn't know if he had the will power to push you away; he didn't want to seem as though he was taking advantage of you but; you had both seen this coming for such a long time that you both no longer wanted to fight it. You had been through so much stuff together; fought nail and tooth to get here.

And now you were.

Because he promised you that everything was going to be okay.

And it was one promise he intended on keeping.

[brooklynislandgirl]

If you are still doing the ship meme... all the hearts for Beth and Foggy cause I need to know :)

Heart Eyes || Accepting

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?

Long suffering Foggy Nelson has been the victim of ambushing by hug or sudden hand-hold, by bright and bubbly enthusiasm over probably the weirdest things, kisses on the cheek, straightening of ties, thumbs up from around corners…the laundry list gets longer with every passing year they’ve known each other. And he wears her affection with a style and grace that’s rather unmatched by nearly anyone he could care to name.

And he returns those tokens with equal aplomb, albeit differently. Musicals watched at his apartment, a tour of the office while he was still working on it. Phone calls in the middle of the night to make sure she is first…okay, and that she doesn’t forget she actually has a home to go to.“Definitely me in public, him in personal space.”

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

She laughs and the sound radiates warmth and kindness through out it’s duration which is brief. Not because the question is funny but because Foggy is one of the sweetest and most romantic souls she knows, more so than she is, and that’s saying a lot.“Foggy’s romantic in da very French sense of da word. I mean if I had t’ pick someone oddah dan my braddah whom I could see ridin’ resolutely into battle wi’ a token around his arm from some kine maiden fair…I couldn’t pick anyone beddah. He carries a wonder of da world, a belief dat’s deep as oceans inside. He will champion a cause because it’s da right kine to do an’ nevah really t’ink twice, no matter how much he stand to lose, how hurt he could get, how he don’t see himself dat way.

“My favourite knights were always Sir Gawain an’ Sir Galahad….an’ if Foggy isn’t a distant relative of Lancelot, den I dunno who is. So I say….he’s da bigger romantic open like.”

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine’s day?

“I hones’ly t’ink dat Foggy’s idea of Valentimes is him makin’ some kine ono for someone special ~man’s a fantastic cook when he’s got da time an patience for it, an’ he gonna shower you with all of his attention. Dat’s how he let ya know he cares, ya know? Lazy conversation, great little jokes, really lissen an’ rememberin’ small details.”She smiles.“Me…mebbe is cause how I was raise but I feel like… need t’ go real big or go home ya know? Carriage t’rew da park, rentin’ out da stadium for ‘battin’ practice an’ a picnic onna pitcher’s mound. Broadway show wi’ ya name in lights. Dat kind of t’ing.”ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

They walk through the park, talking about his cases, even the smallest ones bringing a sense of pride and sense of self worth in it. And it starts with walking maybe too close, so that her hand brushes his and eventually she slips her fingers between his. She’s always had a thing about touch, it’s how she navigates the world and sometimes it just makes her feel a little less lonely, a lot safer. And maybe he doesn’t mind so much, because he lets her. Sometimes carrying on through with a conversation or lifting their conjoined hands to point something out that she might have otherwise missed.💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

“Uh. Foggy.”

She remembers it all too clearly. How strange they all looked in Josie’s, Foggy and Karen and Misty and Beth herself. And she watched how he watched their long-legged and blonde friend. And Beth wondered what it would be like to be here for just a moment, though she was jerked out of that feeling when he slammed his palms on their pool table, and ordered another round of drinks.

‘These are my friends and I love them!’The only explanation he gave. Karen doesn’t know how lucky she is. Can’t see beyond Matt or Frank. But Foggy never gives up on people, and Beth admires that, even if she can see the marks it leaves behind. Even if she knows what those marks feel like. He walked Karen home that night, and she…left a picket fence of cocktail umbrellas for her cabbie.She never really had the guts to ask what, if anything, happened that night.💘: who developed a crush on the other first?“Oh, I dunno. We’re jus’…jus’ friends.”

She doesn’t know exactly when she noticed how he lights up a room with his smile. Or how she could spend hours listening to his opening and closing statements, or talking about how he grew up and what his favourite movies are. She doesn’t know why he risked life and limb to come to her clinic the night of the Earthquake. Or when she first traced the veins on the back of his hand and gave it a squeeze. She wouldn’t even really call it a crush so much as…she just likes being around him. She thinks he’s the best cuddler and a good friend and…💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

“Me. Cufflinks. Wha’ was I even t’inking?! But a’ least he took it in stride.”💓: who initiates most physical contact?

It’s not exactly initiation, but Beth usually starts it. Whether it’s running her fingers through his hair at the end of a rough day, or letting him doze in her lap when he’s sick, or rubbing his shoulders during the middle of the night and he’s still burning midnight oil at his desk. It is the only real way she knows of telling him that she cares about him, his well being, and all the other things that go along with it. That and the hand holding. Or resting her head on his shoulders while they’re going through their Star Wars marathon.

“Some day, I’m gonna be really sad when I’ve got to force-choke him for being rebel scum dat he is.”💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

“I wouldn’t call dem cutesy, really. But sometimes it’s nice t’ get a random tex so ya know someone out dere tinkin’ about ya. An’ he ~said~ he liked cute animal videos, so reliably no can hold dat against me, jus’ sayin.”💟: who spends time reading their zodiac incompatibilities?

“No idea wha’ ya talkin’ about, incompatibilities. We’re both Cancers, born t’irteen days apart and a couple years, give or take, which means we bot’ got a lot in common if ya don’ count generational kine. An’ so wha’ if his venus is in his sixth… I mean I’m sure I could sit down an’ draw out his chart if I wan too but why? I don’ t’ink it maddah t’ him wha’ da stars say, because it’s slander and heresay, at best.”💙: who is more protective?

Beth absolutely believes Foggy is the more physically protective of the two of them, where as she’s more emotionally protective of him, and in a way it creates a really beautiful synergy. And it’s also extremely endearing though the idea that he could get hurt because of her absolutely kills her. “I say we’re pretty even matched here.”💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

Beth is convinced that he’s never noticed that she doesn’t get sick. Despite working in an emergency room and running a health clinic in the Kitchen. That whenever things go really side ways {or she spends time with people like Frank Castle}, she has the remarkable good luck not to come away with a single scratch. And she really hopes he doesn’t ever catch on because that is the one secret she can’t share with him.Likewise, Foggy’s worst habit is his lack of self-care and the fact that he’ll run himself into the ground if he’s allowed to. So of course she tries to make sure he doesn’t without seeming weird about it.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I can say I’m mo’ beddah taking care of him, and oddah people, because dat’s ya know…what I do for a living. An’ I guess den dat makes him da one gets more sick.”💜: who said “i love you” first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

“Objection!” She almost chokes on her cup of coffee at the question. Obviously flustered she seems to drop back behind her personal shell over the matter. Arms hunched inward and face turned away so her hair falls into it. Beth…can’t bring herself to say those words. Even if she meant them, even if they scratched at the back of her mind. Because when she does? The person leaves. She’s watched it happen time after time after time, and she can’t bear the idea of not having Foggy in her life.Besides, she’s a thousand percent sure that he doesn’t see her that way. And that’s okay too. He deserves someone he loves. He deserves the world.“Dis seem really unfair. Wha’s dat called? Leadin’ da witness?”💛: who believes in soulmates?

She’s absolutely sure they both do, but it’s surprisingly not something that’s come up in casual conversation. And if she were honest with herself, she’d admit he’s already found that person. And she absolutely has no remorse punching a certain blind-man dead in the face if he ever breaks Foggy’s heart.Again.

[courtofsapphiresandshadows]

Chapter Six

It took a while for both Nuala and Cerrwiden to finish bathing both Aegan and Estelle. While it had been definitely easier for the two servants to clean the younger Illyrian- she complied the entire time- Aegan, on the other hand, was like trying to bathe a cat. From where Nesta was, she hold hear her cursing and growling at them.

Unsurprisingly, Estelle came out before Aegan. Nuala (or was it Cerridwen?) had dressed her in a simple sage colored dress that fell just past her knees. They had rubbed something on her wing too- a healing salve, perhaps.

"Where's Aegan?" She asked Estelle when she plopped down next to her on the couch, tucking her feet in close to her. The other Inner Circle had left a few minutes before hand, and Cassian, to her knowledge, was still snoozing upstairs.

The girl chuckled. "She's still getting changed- I don't think she enjoyed her bath." She ran a hand over her hair, which had been braided back neatly. "How long do you think we're staying here?" Estelle asked, twirling the end of her braid with her finger.

"As long as Rhysand gets the information he wants, not for very long", Nesta told her, while she dug through her sack. 'Where did that book go?' She thought to herself, before finally finding the novel that she had been searching for.

Estelle nodded, as she picked at a loose thread, glancing at the book in her hand, and the multiple in her sack. "You must like to read."

Nesta smiled faintly, her fingers skimming over the cover. "It's my favorite past time. What about you? You like books?"

Her cheeks went pink. "I- uh- I can't read."

"Seriously?"

Estelle nodded, extremely embarassed. "No female in Ironcrest does. The males think that it would distract us from our duties."

Nesta fought back the anger that rose in her throat. "What 'duties'?"

She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "Laundry, cleaning-" she began to say, her face turning an even deeper shade of red, "cooking, child bearing...." her voice trailed off, looking down at the carpet beneath them.

At first, Nesta didn't know what to say- 'I'm sorry' didn't seem to cut it. "Does Aegan know how to read?" She asked finally.

Estelle shrugged. "I've never asked. It wouldn't surprise me if she couldn't."

Nesta glanced at the book in her hand. Feyre hadn't been able to read well, but she had at least been able to identify a few words, and could write her name. Nesta and Elain were not to thank for that.

But Estelle... she couldn't read- meaning she couldn't write. Maybe, Nesta could try again, with this Illyrian girl. Could be a better sister, even if not by blood.

"I'm teaching you how to read."

Estelle's hazel eyes widened. "Really?" Her voice rose slightly in disbelief, before she remembered who was sleeping upstairs. "Wait, right now?"

Nesta chuckled softly. "Well, since Aegan seems to be taking her time, and no one needs us, I think it's a perfectly good time to start, don't you think?"

It took a while to find a pen and paper, but soon Estelle was copying down the alphabet that Nesta had written down. Besides mixing up her p's and q's, and writing the s as a z, she was doing pretty well.

"What's that letter?" Nesta quizzed, pointing at a letter.

Estelle squinted her eyes slightly. "V- no wait... U?" It sounded more like a question than an answer, but she was correct.

Nesta nodded, a small bit of pride warming her. "You're doing well, for your first time."

Estelle grinned brightly. "I'm going to have to practice more, I think. Unless I want to mix up my letters next time."

The front door opened, stifling Nesta's good mood. It was Rhysand and Feyre, along with the rest of the Inner Circle. Elain was with them, her arms filled to the brim with bags of groceries and flower catalogs. Her eyes lit up when she saw Nesta, dropping the bags on the ground to pull her into a tight hug. "I didn't expect for you to return so early!"

Nesta wasn't sure if she meant that in a good way. "I'm glad I get to see you too, Elain."

Estelle glanced between the two, smiling slightly. When Elain looked at her, a smile on her face but was otherwise confused, she stuck out her hand. "Estelle", she introduced. "I'll only be here for a few days, once Rhysand and Aegan finish talking."

As if on cue, Aegan appeared in the hallway, her eyes wild as she whipped around, yelling a curse at Nuala and Cerridwen.

The two shadow servants had taken a dull blade and made it shine. Whatever they had done with Aegan, they did a hell of a job. Her tan skin glowed, her blonde hair shone in the light, and, thankfully, she didn't smell like blood anymore.

The clothes they had put her in screamed night court- a black sleeveless top, sheer in some places to reveal dark Illyrian tattoos that covered almost the entirety of her back and shoulders. They were chaotic, yet beautiful. Whoever did them had the skill of an artist.

"No make up?" Rhysand crooned, smirking slightly.

"I threatened to rip their throats out if they got too close to my face. We decided that I didn't need it", she shot back, making sure to reveal her sharp teeth when she smiled wickedly.

"Oh, I like her", someone- Amren- muttered, amusement flashing in her silver eyes.

He shot her a glare, before glancing back at Aegan. "We can begin our talks this afternoon- They'll be in the House of Wind."

"How many houses do you have?"

He grinned. "Three. Four, if you include our residence in Hewn City."

Aegan shot a look at Nesta. 'Four?!' Her eyes seemed to say.

Nesta shook her head. No need for Aegan to give the High Lord and Lady a reason to elaborate on how rich they were.

"Where's Cassian?" Mor asked when she noticed the commander's absence.

Nesta felt the urge to growl, but kept it down. No need to cause any more tension- especially when Aegan looked ready to punch someone's teeth in.

"Sleeping upstairs, I'm pretty sure. He seemed pretty tired when we arrived", Rhysand told her, eyeing the staircase.

"He was like that during our time in the mountains", Nesta added quietly.

Everyone turned to stare at her. "Why do you think that is, girl?" Amren hissed, her silver eyes narrowing at Nesta.

Nesta glared. "There have been rebellions, in case you haven't heard. Ironcrest attacked Windhaven today. I would be tired if I was him", she growled. She usually wouldn't stand up for Cassian, but the way Amren said it, it was as if she had been blaming her for his current state. What could've Nesta done? Gone to Ironcrest and told them off?

Aegan cleared her throat. "As much as I love hearing you all bicker with one another", she began to say, a lazy grin on her face, "is there a place that Estelle and I place our things?" She asked, as Estelle gathered the papers that she and Nesta had written on.

"Sure! The room next to Elain's should be free, right?" Feyre told them, her sister nodding in confirmation.

"I can show you, if you'd like", Elain added, smiling slightly at Estelle, who had been sitting next to her.

Aegan glanced at Nesta, a mingle of concern and doubt in her eyes.

"I'll be fine", she murmured over to her, feeling the corners of her lips twitch upwards.

The Illyrian relaxed ever so slightly. "That would be lovely", she told Elain, smiling.

Her sister glanced up at Aegan, and once they locked eyes, she went stiff.

"Elain?" Nesta called out softly. "Are you okay?"

Aegan twitched slightly, as her eyes darted around the group as Elain's eyes remained fixated on her. "What's she doing?" She whispered to no one in particular.

"She's a seer- something big is going to happen in your future, and by the way she's acting, it can't be good", Rhysand told her, shooting a worried expression at Elain.

The Seer took a deep, shaky breath as she uttered one word: "Monster."

No one spoke up. Maybe it was Nesta slowly losing her mind, or maybe it was someone's power slipping slightly, but the temperature dropped suddenly. As if Illyria came to Velaris.

Aegan blinked,  and her arms, which were tightly clasped behind her back, swung loose beside her.

That was when Nesta noticed the tattoos on her forearms.

They were not Illyrian, but something else. And by the way she quickly hid them from view once again, Aegan didn't like them. But the image couldn't erase itself from her memory- mutliple bands of black, looking like they had been branded on her

"I'll show them to their room", Nesta announced, before practically pushing the Illyrian females out of there. Something about Elain's tone had put everyone on edge- if Aegan had stayed there... Only the Mother knows what would've happened.

"What did she mean, 'monster'?" Estelle asked her once they reached their room.

Aegan rested her chin on a hand. "I'm not too sure myself. But, back when I was still training in Ironcrest, I was called a monster- so was my mother. Probably due to my temperament and fighting style", she admitted, though it was obvious that she was withholding information. Valuable, extremely valuable, information.

What would Rhysand find when he searched through her head?

@callie-bear15

@thisgryffindorlllyrian

@nestaarcheronwillkillme

@dreamworld-1997

@rairrai

@deezrmuhsheeple​

@my-fan-side

[darkprincessloki92]

Seattle at night

Part: 5

Plot: Visiting Seattle should have gone smooth but does anything really ever go as planned?

Pairing: Self x Tom

Warning: PSTD, protective Tom, 🍋

After a few movies, I notice Tom seems that he has something on his mind. So I slightly sit up “Hey, you doin’ okay?” Tom smiles, “Just lost in thought.” I sit up completely and cross my arms, “you’ve missed a huge part of the movie plot.” Tom sits up and defends himself, “No I swear I have been paying attention!” I scoff, “Okay what just happened.” Tom opened his mouth to say something but closed it just as quick. I lightly smacked his arm, “See!” Tom rubs the back of his neck, “I’ve just been trying to control myself.” I tilt my head, “You what?” Tom clears his throat, “I’m laying here, in a hotel bed, with one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen and she is wrapped in my arms. Mine, not for some movie or TV show, because she wants to be. All I want to do is pepper you with kisses and tell you how beautiful you are and make love to you but I can not.” Tom stands up and Began to pace.

I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for him to start speaking again. I have never imagined him to get so frustrated. I mean I have in the facfictions I've read, but never in-person. Tom continued, “You have no idea how tempting it has been.” I chuckle and tom stops in his tracks. I look up through my eyelashes, “Actually I do.” Tom looks at me confused, “You what?” I chuckle again, “I have wanted to climb on you like a tree since we got into this room, but I am scared.” Tom sat next to me, “Darling what could you possibly be scared of?” I sat to face him, “You are..well you. And I am just some girl from the states.” Tom sat and faced me as well, “Do you truly think so little of me?” Snap my head to look at him. “What no? Wait that's not what I meant.” Tom chuckled, “How about this, we take it slow. If at any time you feel uncomfortable we can stop right away.” I nod my head, “Okay.”

Tom scoots closer to me and places his hand on my cheek and slowly leans in. I follow suit and our lips slowly clash together. Painfully slow, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. So I leaned in further and tom slowly leaned back, never breaking the kiss. Tom was on his back and I was straddling his waist. Sitting up I began to take off my t-shirt. Tom stops my hand, “Wait, are you sure?” I pull off the t-shirt and start to kiss him again. Tom hums as his hands graze over my back. He finds my bra clasp and with a snap its off. Tom pulls on his shirt and breaks the kiss long enough to pull it over his head. He then flips me on my back and places one hand behind my neck and one hand slowly leaves trails of goosebumps down to the band of the sweat pants. Tom breaks the kiss again to ask, “Is this okay?” I lift my hips in order to help him pull off the pants. I picked a good day to wear a decent pair of panties. Thank god for being lazy on laundry day.

Tom stands up and admires my body, He notices I have a thigh tattoo. He smiles, “Ah she is decorated I see.” My cheeks began to feel warm, but I try and play it off, “And I see that you are still dressed. Tom looks down. “So it seems, now before I do anything else I want to make sure this is what you truly want.” I sit up in a sort of kneeling pose, Sitting on my feet with my legs slightly open and my arms down by my side Looking down I can see toms swollen cock through his sweatpants. Licking my lips, “I want to feel you.” Tom looks down and slowly starts to stroke his cock through his pants, “This? You want this?” I eagerly nod, and a low moan escapes my throat, “Yes, I need you.” With a dark chuckle, tom walks over and slowly pulls his pants down. To slow, His member bounces from its captivity. My jaw drops, good god, how is that going to fit? No way. Tom lightly pushes me back and gives gentle kisses down my jawline and to my collarbone. His hand slowly sliding down my stomach past my navel and to my wet folds, a growl escapes his throat. “My my you are so wet for me.” I lift my hips to get some sort of friction. Tom takes the hint and positions himself at my entrance.

He looks into my eyes, I can see a glimmer of worry, I nod my head as a silent yes. Tom looks down between the two of us and slowly enters me. Painfully slow. I winced at the burning, realizing the face I made tom was about to pull out. I wrapped my legs around him. “I just need a second.” Tom lays perfectly still, then i don't feel pain, and all I want is for him to move. So I grab his face and pull it down to mine and kiss him as deeply as possible, tom slightly pulled on my hair. Which earned a gasp from me, so he took the opportunity to dive his tongue to meet mine, teeth clashing, sweet silent moans escape us both. My legs rubbing against his hips. With each thrust slow, romantic, he hits a spot I wasn't sure existed. Grabbing my leg he lifted slightly to his chest and started to trust deeper, with a faster pace. Then he suddenly stops, breaking the kiss. Leaning his forehead on to mine “I am sorry love, but I am afraid I will not be able to hold myself back any longer.” Giving him a wicked smile, “Do your worst.” Tom chuckles.

Within seconds, he begins to pound faster into me. So fast my head starts to spin. His name falls from my lips like it was the only word I knew. Tom began to moan along with me, god his moan was smooth like honey. Feeling a knot in my stomach, “Tom----I---” Before I could finish my sentence he leaned back and found my bundle of nerves rubbing quickly. “Come with me (y/n) CUM WITH ME NOW!” My vision went blurry as I screamed in ecstasy. Tom moaned with his cock twitching inside of me, my orgasm was milking him for all he had. Finally, we both came down from our high and he fell on top of me. We both just laid there. Trying to catch our breaths. Not moving, not to dare ruin the moment. Tom lifted himself on his hands. “Good God, that was….”I smiled, “Amazing.” Tom starts to slowly pull out, I wince again. Tom sighs, “Love, why didn't you tell me it was hurting you?” I smile “Because it hurt so good.” Tom smiles, Standing up he walks to the bathroom, turning on the tub and walking to the room and leans on the doorway. “Then let me draw you a warm bath.” I try and stand up but a shooting pain stops me. Tom clicks his tongue and walks over to me. Picks me up bridal style. “This is going to be a long night.” I giggle, “The night isn't the only thing that's long.” Tom chuckles and closes the bathroom door with his foot.

@devilbat @lokis-little-kitten @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms

[hyggeligbirch]

Kairos

Baekhyun squirms himself awake. There is a dog breathing in his face and it is not exactly acceptable.

“Go ‘way, Kongju,” he murmurs, sleepily dropping his hand somewhere in the vicinity of her head. He gets a second of reprieve from the stench before she licks him across the face. He groans, wipes his mouth. Fumbles around on the nightstand for a minute before squinting into the brightness of his screen. “Fuck’f girl,” he mumbles as he buries his head back in his pillow. His ridiculously warm pillow. “Is only four. Sleep time.”

She whines and nuzzles into his side. Right where he’s ticklish. He shouldn’t have let her figure that one out.

He buries deeper into his pillow, ignoring the tickles, curling sideways into the very warm pillow that’s there. And realizes why it’s so warm.

Four in the morning is not the best time to make decisions, Baekhyun will later defend himself, once the sun has risen properly and his boyfriend is trying his damndest to be angry and disappointed that he was unceremoniously – and literally – kicked out of bed.

--

Jongin brings Kongju back to bed with him, once he’s wandered outside in little more than his boxers just so she can take a piss on the neighbor’s flowers. Baekhyun immediately curls into her side, a snake drawn to warmth, and Jongin’s too tired to do anything but collapse half on top of the pair.

Actual morning comes two hours later with a weak sun filtering over the city and Baekhyun’s phone tinkling away with his early alarm. The alarm’s carefully calculated to be loud enough to wake Baekhyun, but still quiet enough to let Jongin sleep – but it doesn’t quite matter today. Jongin’s still splayed across Baekhyun’s back. There’s really no hope for it.

Jongin hits the ground for the second time. Baekhyun groans as he stretches to his phone, silences the alarm. Shower and go. He can’t be late to work again. Especially not today.

He trips over his boyfriend in his rush to the bathroom; the idiot’s managed to fall asleep already. Maybe he never even woke up. Not that there’s anything to fault with that – it was a hell of a late night last night, and he doesn’t have to be in for rehearsals until ten, and he really likes to sleep, anyway.

--

It takes two minutes for the shower to warm. It always takes two minutes to warm. He takes two minutes to piss. It works.

--

Baekhyun’s all pruny when he stumbles out of the shower, skin deep red from the scalding water and blond hair sticking every which way. Probably took a little longer than he should have, but it was so warm and he is exhausted. He towels off and tugs on his boxers, his slacks. Takes a moment to dry his hair and style it, using some of Jongin’s gel – well, both of their gel at this point, honestly – and checks to make sure his makeup has successfully disappeared in the, ah, four hours of sleep he’s gotten.

Satisfied with his appearance, he bumbles out and fights his way into a shirt and tie. It’s far harder than it should be. He hates the damn dress code. His phone’s been moved from the nightstand to the dresser, probably whenever Kongju nosed Jongin awake for breakfast. It’s only 6.30. He’s still making pretty good time.

--

There’s breakfast on the table already. It’s porridge and fruit, but that’s about all Jongin can cook, and Baekhyun loves routine. Kongju sits nicely by her dish, waiting for everyone else to sit and eat, while Jongin is doing something, loudly, in the fridge, in just his boxers – actually, no. In Baekhyun’s boxers. The ones with the big red kiss on the ass that keep ending up in the trash, Kongju’s bowl, other people’s Christmas presents – anywhere Jongin thinks will make them disappear.

Baekhyun considers teasing his blind boyfriend about it, but, honestly, it’s funnier this way. Jongin turns, triumphant, a few moments later, orange juice clutched tightly in his hand. Joins Baekhyun at the table.

Of course, they all three are still mostly asleep, and breakfast is a quiet affair. The silence is broken by Baekhyun’s phone, ringing his five minute alarm. They all start and Baekhyun quickly clears his place.

Jongin follows him to the entrance, watches him pull on his shoes and jacket from far closer than is normal, but he’s blind, that’s fine. “Have a good day at work,” he whispers, voice still not quite awake. “I’ve got an evening break tonight – you home?”

“Probably not,” Baekhyun says, and that’s not a lie. “I’ll be home at noon, but there’s meetings until late.” That is also not a lie. “I’m going to run for groceries – anything you need?”

Jongin hums noncommittedly, eyes already starting to close. Baekhyun steps forward and hugs him, burying his face into his neck. Savors the smell. They use the same body wash, the same shampoo, but for some reason it always smells so much nicer on his boyfriend. Jongin ruffles Baekhyun’s hair back, and they part.

--

“Hey, Sehun,” Baekhyun whispers, leaning over the other’s monitor. Even a whisper feels like a shout in the dungeon. “You know that thing I asked you to hide for me?”

Sehun glances up from his spreadsheet. The numbers were making his eyes hurt anyway. “Maybe.”

“Shh, no, come on, you know what it is. I need it back. Right now.” Keeping it private would be nice too.

“What do I get?” He’s smirking now and Baekhyun really doesn’t want to deal with his stupid, loud face any more today.

“Satisfaction? Happiness? Another day without ice in your pants and a lizard in your drawer?”

Sehun’s eyes widen. Contract. “Good point,” he says, as he reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk and rummages for a moment. “Here.”

Baekhyun takes the book from his friend. “Wonderful – you’re the best,” he replies, and wonders if maybe he’s laying it on a bit thick.

“I know I am, but what are you?”

They both snigger. They’re still children.

As Baekhyun starts to leave, Sehun remembers. “The meetings tonight – are you going to make it or,” he stares meaningfully at the book and wiggles his eyebrows significantly, “do you have better things to do?”

There’s a brief second when Baekhyun wants to throttle him. It has never been like that, and his friend – his best friend – should know that. But he doesn’t. He restrains himself. “Ahh, yeah, I’m taking a half day. Last thing I want to do is be stuck around here all night. And tomorrow too.” Let Sehun take that as he will.

He does. “Awesome,” he says, eyes glinting ridiculously, “enjoy it. Drinks Saturday?”

“Sure.” And that is a lie.

--

It takes an hour for groceries. It takes fifteen minutes to get home. That puts the clock at a quarter past one and Baekhyun’s happy enough with that. Gives him almost five hours to get things ready. He starts by letting Kongju out.

She’s hyper from being kenneled for hours; he pushes her off his chest and lets her run inside. Jongin doesn’t like her doing that, but Baekhyun doesn’t particularly care. He’s busy and tired and she’ll wear herself out eventually.

He starts in the kitchen, restocking the fridge with produce and juice and the freezer with easy meals. Rice and cereal and ramen and tinned vegetables crowd into the pantry. He’s pretty sure he’s gotten enough for a month. He dumps Kongju’s kibble into one of the lower cabinets – he’s never strong enough to put it up high where it belongs – and locks the door. The dog pauses in her races to slobber on his nice pants and he pets her in return as he heads to stock the bathroom. Toilet paper and toiletries – new soap and hair products and an extra jar of the brand new gel.

He wants to tidy up a little. Make it nice. Make it special. He settles for falling on the couch and staring at the T.V. At some point, Kongju stops her running and decides to nap with him, smothering him in fur. They stay like that until Baekhyun’s phone goes off. Five o’clock.

There’s only an hour to get this place to rights.

Baekhyun starts with piling his dirty shit into his old duffel. It’s been a long while since he’s done his laundry at his own apartment, but today is important and today is big and he doesn’t want to leave this fucking mess lying about. He gets his dress clothes, his workout clothes, his lazy-night-in clothes. He straightens the clean clothes that have been rehoused in Jongin’s dresser at some foggy point in the past year. He grabs his makeup off the counter and puts it on its shelf for the first time in goddamn weeks, like he’s been meaning to, like Jongin’s been asking him to.

His duffel gets run to the dumpster with the rest of the week’s trash. Kongju still isn’t truly housebroken.

Back upstairs, in Jongin’s apartment, he rifles through his work bag for the damn book. Flips through it to make sure Sehun hasn’t decided to ruin it. Smooths the beautiful binding.

Paperclips in that last note on that last page that is so private. That was never anyone else’s to even glance at.

Only Jongin’s.

He places it carefully on the coffee table, pushing days-old mugs off to the side.

“Down, girl,” he tells Kongju. “Stay off.” She listens.

--

It’s five thirty and Baekhyun really needs to get going.

His phone buzzes as he bends down to grab his bag.

Hey~ I’m just getting off. Good luck with the meetings! I’ll see you tomorrow? I’m really looking forward to the long weekend~ Plenty of time to rest! <3 <3 <3

Jongin’s really never gotten the hang of texting – not for lack of effort on either of their parts.

It takes a minute for Baekhyun to decide to respond. It takes another to decide what to say.

Looking forward to the break, he finally decides. Tacks on several hearts for good measure. Adds a couple more.

He silences his phone before throwing it in his pocket again. Picks his bags up and sets them in the hall. Squats down next to Kongju and ruffles her ears.

“If you promise to be very very good,” he says, “I’ll let you stay out until your dad gets home. He’ll be here within the hour. Will you be very good?”

She licks him up the face and he takes it as a yes.

“Okay, I’m trusting you,” he says and she whines in return. He tries not to think on that.

--

Baekhyun throws on his jacket and takes up his work bag. Glances around the apartment again. It looks perfect.

The door clicks behind him and he locks it with steady fingers.

Leaves the building.

It’s time to rest.

[askpolylosersclub]

AYO DADDY RICH. Tell me what you love most about our beloved Losers? -Caitlin

OKAY, BABY. Here goes:

Bev: 

BEV IS MY GIRL, OKAY?

If Stan wasn’t my best friend, it would definitely be this flawless bitch

WE DO EVERYTHING TOGETHER

EVEN SHOWER TOGETHER SOMETIMES

She is the FASHION QUEEN like...I might borrow her clothes (only the ones that fit me)

Bev taught me how to style my hair, okay? SHE KNOWS what the LADIES LIKE

UM...SOFT TITTIES? THAT YOU CAN REST YOUR HEAD ON? I rest my case

Ben: 

THIS BITCH FUCKING SMART

THIS BITCH FUCKING SWEET

Literally if you have a bad day then go to this one because HE COULD MAKE YOU LAUGH/SMILE EVEN IF YOUR DOG JUST DIED LIKE

Looks like he just fucking walked out of a men’s modelling catalog but still doesn’t realize how FUCKING ATTRACTIVE HE IS? SO MODEST

I know some people hate being tickled but BEN IS THE BEST HE SOMEHOW MAKES IT NOT...HORRIBLE AND JUST CUTE AND FUNNY and it CHEERS YOU UP???

He can BAKE anything OMG like...FUCK ME UP

ALWAYS DTC (down to cuddle)

Mike: 

THIS BITCH STRONG AF

HE CAN CARRY YOU UP THE STAIRS TO BED IF YOU’RE FEELING TOO FUCKING LAZY

And he will (happily)

Cooks THE BEST MEALS like WHO NEEDS TO EVER GO TO A FUCKING RESTAURANT WHEN YOU LIVE WITH MIKE HANLON?

THE BEST BACKRUBS (FUCK ME UP, MIKE. TURN ME INTO JELLO)

Has a cool truck and he will drive you ANYWHERE YOU WANT

VOICE LIKE FUCKING HONEY LIKE...AND HIS LAUGH...SHOOK

Stan:

Um...my BEST FRIEND LIKE FOREVER

One of the only people who laughs at my jokes. He will laugh at my jokes when nobody else does just to make me FEEL BETTER. YOUR FAVE WOULD NEVER

DADDY

ALWAYS DTF (down to fuck) AND HE WILL GIVE IT TO YOU GOOD IF YOU ASK

Does my laundry (and irons it so I look fucking FRESH)

MAYBE SOMETIMES DOES MY HOMEWORK IF I HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT (I know I’m doing performance but they still sometimes make you write stuff like WHAT KINDA BULLSHIT?)  BECAUSE HE KNOWS I CAN’T SIT STILL FOR THAT LONG

THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN CALM ME DOWN IF I’M STIMMING TOO HARD

Bill: 

A MESS™ SO I LOOK BETTER IF I’M WITH HIM

Super clumsy and adorable and funny

If you wanna relax, just go to this one and ask him to read you one of his stories BC THAT BITCH GOT A FUCKING SOFT VOICE AND HE READS SO SLOW

Always DTFA (down to fool around) like...bitch got good hands and lips and likes to PLEASE

DOESN’T CARE IF I BORROW (STEAL) HIS CLOTHES

SUPER HYPER A LOT OF THE TIME LIKE...IT’S HILARIOUS???

Down for literally ANYTHING. Like...HE WILL DROP WHAT HE’S DOING TO GO GET TACOS AT 3AM WITH YOU

Eddie:

UM...HE SMALL AND YOU CAN PICK HIM UP

Keeps our room clean so I don’t have to (he even tidies my clothes)

A FUCKING BALL OF ENERGY LIKE HOW DOES HE DO IT??? HE NEVER STOPS TALKING

If you get him on his own EDDIE IS ACTUALLY THE SWEETEST? LIKE HE SO SOFT AND LOVELY AND BITCH I’M GONNA CRY

HIS CUTE LITTLE LAUGH????? FUCK ME I’M SHOOK. Eddie has the best laugh, okay? ASK ANYONE

Sometimes does gross stuff for me without being asked (like giving me head when we wake up. He’s gonna kill me for writing this but I APPRECIATE IT, EDDIE. I DO)

UM...I FUCKING LOVE HIM??? I MEAN I LOVE ALL THESE GUYS BUT LIKE...I WOULD MARRY EDDIE KASPBRAK

- Rich