#i feel like my tastes have rly changed over the years

[jotunvali02]

Playing Ace Attorney, Rise from the Ashes part 7

"I'm sorry Lana. I didn't know. And I've treated you so badly all this time…" "It's not too late. There's still plenty of time to make up..."

Like you and a certain baby prosecutor, Feenie??

Married Objections.💙💞❤️

OMG! My baby's trying to comfort a person who made him feel betrayed again! 😭

"Just relax, and enjoy the sound of the noose tightening around your neck." ^q^ Yes…

Shibari, Daddy.🔥

First baby Edgey, now baby Ema… like has this world no care at all about children?? Does it mean nothing at all in this world? That world rly SUCKS!

"GUILTY"???

Guilty of what?? Forging evidence 2 years ago or Goodman's murder???

So pursuing the truth is NOT what I should have done here?? Taku, did you purposely tried to fuck us up here??

And HOW Ema's fingerprints on the cloth prove SHE was the killer? I bet GANT put her hand on the vest while she was unsconcious!! And she only crashed a vase on Marshall, she never touched him!!

And Edgey tells me off cause I shouldn't have pursued the truth too far, while bitch YOU kept telling over and over that the truth is the only important thing here, "no matter how tragic it might be"!

Oh. I just had to lie about the evidence to have Gant telling the truth. Huh. Sneaky and low, Taku. Sneaky and low.

Wait. Wai-wait So when I presented the handprint the 1st time (and got the guilty verdict), everyone knew instantly it was Ema's.

But now we need it to be sent to the labo??

So, to get a guilty verdict, the court or Edgeworth doesn’t need actual scientifically proven evidence?? WTF??

Ok, pfff. In both choices, we prove the handprint is Ema’s but we can say there is a contradiction in one choice but not the other while they’re eventually the same choice??! WTF???

"You and me we’re the same."

He’s NOTHING like you rotten asshole!! He’s a sweet pure baby!!👼😭 A baby you beat up and had beaten up endlessly during 3 fucking days because he’s too much of good and righteous sweet baby to your taste!!

«I can hear them singing a melodious melody!»

Like this?

But wait.

WHY did he kill Neil Marshall ????

And is Lana going to get harsh penalties for HER forged evidence?

Oh. she's... beautiful when she smiles. O///O

Yeah, you feel for him, but can you at least say "Sorry I'VE put you in deep shit?"

Baby Edgey: "It was nothing! Baka."

Shut the fuck up.

"I was worried all this might break you." Careful, girl. CAREFUL!!! "But you rose above it and guided Mr Wright to victory."

Yes. Bc he's the best husband!! 😭 😭 ❤️💞

Wait. He basically wanted to prove you guilty in the beginning!

"No one can change the past. The only thing we can do is making up for our mistakes. So we find the way back to our rightful path. And walk towards a brighter future."

Phoenix,... are you sure you're ok???

"At least, that's how I felt looking at the two sisters."

No.

No....???

No no no!!!

"Edgeworth?"

*hyperventilates* scared as fuck.

"I'll be going now."

NO!!!!! ♫ Ne me quittes pas, il faut oublier...♫

♫ Je ferais un domaine où l'amour sera loi... ♫

"I hope you don't blame yourself for what happened."

Bitch, he has a fucking DISCIPLINE WHIP instead of thoughts!

"It's too late for me..."

Bitch. Shut uuuup??

"I can't correct my mistakes."

But baby... 😭

Oh, Fee-Fee says the same!

Mama Lana to the rescue!

"Contrary to Gant or Von Karma, YOU weren't alone." 😭 "You had your husband Fee-Fee Wright." ♥

"Come on! Show Mr Edgeworth what Lana is talking about!"

What? His love? His lips? His plan to propose?

"It was destiny, Mr Edgeworth." #starcrossedlovers

"If you'll excuse me, there are still some """"loose ends"""" that need """wrapping up""""

OMG. SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP !!!!!!

Oh God! Feenie's holding him back!!

"You can let what happened kill the prosecutor in you or let it help you grow."

Why did have to pick THOSE words, Phoenix?? Why THOSE specific words???????

"I owe you my thanks too, Wright."

What? "thank you for making me realize I have to kill myself so everything is good and right again??"

"What I face now is MY problem."

Bitch, I assure you Phoenix will make sure it's EVERYONE's problem!

"Edgeworth... I'll be waiting for you at the altar in court." He said, caressing then kissing his beloved's cheek.

Serisouly, WHO says that except a lover??

"As for the sisters, I had faith, their lives had just begun. As for me..."

Shut up.😭

Edgey as the last person we see in Feenie's flashback? Hmmm.❤️❤️

And it's the tea boy who fins the cursed letter.

[rubyklaasje]

now that i don't have to worry abt art im worryin about excerpt like.. i like this 1, it's the one i have on the actual ao3 post itself:

Ruby’s eyes searched the floor as she tried to cohere her singular thought (How dare you? How dare you? How dare you?) into a different, more specific question.

“Why did you- what did you tell them?” She had to hear it herself. Do we ‘have’ to?

Klaasje’s reply was immediate — tense and quiet, “'Them', who? I-I don’t know what you’re-”

Ruby shouted, almost laughing, “YES YOU DO! You do, Klaasje,” and Klaasje winced — not at Ruby’s rising tone… but at the use of that word. That soft, long, guttural sound which meant herself – Klaasje. Ruby squinted. That’s right… that wasn’t even her real name.

BUT!!!! IDK im like maybe one of these??? this one feels too long and dialogue heavy but also it's really not my fav passage.. like i dont rly like the 'prose' in this part at all:

"You didn't try to find me. No, what you did was send them after me.” Klaasje didn’t respond, frustrated to be continually interrupted. Her jaw was clenched as she let Ruby continue, “RCM. Pigs – worse, Madre’s favorite pig-” 

“He wasn’t. He didn't even have a gun, he could barely remember his own name-”

“He was clearly capable enough to arrest you!”

“They didn’t though… they let us both go-”

“You couldn’t have known that he would… They could have arrested me for my work alone, but they sought me out for a murder I didn’t commit, based on the false information you gave them.”

Klaasje finally addressed Ruby’s assertion, stumbling over her words, “Wh-what did they tell you?”

Ruby held Klaasje’s gaze. “Why don’t you tell me?”

or this one which will explain why klaasje 'looks like that' on the fic cover but i ALSO DONT RLY LIKE THE PROSE HERE EITHER.. SO ....:

Klaasje pulled on the vest and zipped it up, then pulled Ruby’s headphones off of her neck, onto her head. Ruby looked her up and down. This wasn’t Klaasje… it was 'Jean' – a tall, young man with poor eyesight and poorer posture from his short but intense driving career. Privileged, devout, and shaken from his first taste of the real world. His short yet overgrown hair stuck out, boyish and sloppy beneath the bulky headphones. Believable. Ruby’s hand throbbed. Fuck.

“You can drive?”

Klaasje nodded. 

“Yes.” Klaasje had always had some drawling length to her vowels that was especially pronounced when she’d had something to drink… but she seemed to draw them out on purpose now. Or, maybe, she had only stopped restraining her instinct to do so. It was subtle, and Ruby wasn’t even sure the change had been made.

Ruby turned, looking back at the lorry, at the flour bags growing soggy in the ditch. She turned again and looked out across the wasteland behind them.

"Fuck ."

idk all my fav bits of writing in the fic are way too spoilery or just nothing without the context... idk idk idk im leaning toward just keeping the first one and including a version of this old old description i wrote last year:

what would u do if u just found out yr failed talking stage framed u for her boyfriend's murder, and as u r bitterly fleeing your narrowly avoided death and/or imprisonment for this accusation, you coincidentally run into said failed talking stage in a bathroom just outside of town? context: she is also fleeing, but she's not leaving behind the wreckage of a life she worked extremely hard to build (like you are), she's fleeing the responsibility of the lives she destroyed, including yours.. would u see it as a chance to 'hold her accountable' for the wrongs she's done unto u ? some justice, some answer to all this needless death ? now that your life has ostensibly already ended, would you, for once, bring yourself to try out the one high-risk high-reward activity that never interested you before ? would u seek revenge ?

OR should i just use these actual disco quotes???

KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "I think I know who did it. Who shot Lely... I can tell you. I can help you." KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - She's silent for a second -- as if looking into herself for certainty. Then, in a hushed voice, she says… KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Ruby.”

-

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "I never did understand why, when someone dies, a hothouse's worth of flowers has to die too."

[bistaxx]

dropping a handshake in the ask box after that tntduo rant 🤝 bc you hit the nail on the head!!! and it's really funny because I DO like /r ctntduo they used to be my hyperfix ship. but the fandom absolutely killed them for me and it started when qsmp started and qtnt started w these very different but still very cool and interesting dynamics!!! that I saw none of anywhere in fandom. bc they clung to ctnt and did not waver. ough.

like I fully agree I hate to be the person who yells at others about what they can or cannot do in fandom, that's never the vibe, but it is sooo disheartening to see such blatant mischaracterization be the popular fandom view of them. qquack is such an interesting and complex character who is going through hell and back (LITERALLY) and it leaves such a bad taste in my mouth when all of that is ignored just for shipping purposes ://

(okay I know I said I probably wasn't gonna answer asks, but I'll make an exception for this one cuz I have some things I wanna say lol)

Anon I feel you pal 😭 would you believe me if I said same- I too used to be rly into c!Tnt back in the early days back in October 2020 when Quackity helped Tommy stop Wilbur from pressing the button. I just did not care for the direction it ended up going Especially in fanon, I just did not care for the way they ended up getting characterized 😔

I was willing to give q!tnt a try but ended up resenting it like you did. And honestly it's not like there ISN'T interesting stuff going on with his dynamic with Wilbur it's just that you don't really see it explored in fan content that much because most people are focus on shipping them. I wish I could see more about how Quackity was so fixated on being with Wilbur and trying to be a part of Tallulah's life out of grief over losing Tilin and never knowing who his ticket partner was- same applies with his initial reasons for adopting Richas being trying to replace the void left by Tilin and ease the guilt of having failed them as a father by trying to be a better father to Richas. It's something he started to come to terms with during his conversation with SOFIA after festa junina about what love is! And that's genuinely interesting stuff!!! We see his struggle with grief over Tilin and care for Richas and Tallulah clash in his Hell/coma streams!!!!!! Maybe 2024 will be the year of change and q!Quack will get some justice because he DOES have so much going for him as his own character. Maybe we just need to be the change we wanna see.

[breathplayed]

17, 29, 48, & 55 😁🫖

oh u GOT me got me lets go

(17) what is your favorite line you’ve ever written? babe plz this one is too hard..... there's too many...... I HAVE 920K WORDS ON AO3 AND ~50K INCOMING I DONT EVEN REMEMBER THEM ALL......... uuhhhhhhhh ok ok ill try to narrow a few down. it's all gonna be recent tho bc that's what i remember most + i have rly been indulging myself stylistically as of late lmao

for just ~pretty language~ my favorites rn are

"Jimin is almost too pretty to mar with mortal hands, but Jungkook finds desecration is half the fun when his hands slip lower" (folie à trois)

"Some floodgate inside him has broken, the last bastion of resistance crumbled, and now he’s a drowning man in the dead waters" (folie à trois)

“I love you,” he whimpers into Taehyung’s kiss like a prayer. Too devout; Taehyung’s hands and lips pause. Jimin’s own lip is already trembling, caught, so he lets the confessional spill like it’s the last Sunday he’ll ever see." (the losing game ch17)

"[Taehyung] used to dream, sometimes, after Jimin was gone, that he was holding him again, that he could crack open Jimin's ribcage and crawl inside to make a home beside his heart before they burned together." (the losing game ch5)

"Sometimes—in his darkest moments, on his worst nights—Jimin dreams about Taehyung carving over each and every one of his scars. Creating clean new edges to each of them, prying fingers in the wound to be as close as possible, rewriting their memories and meanings with a jagged, almost unbearable intimacy." (the losing game ch17)

"The graves we dig ourselves are often the deepest." (the graves we dig..... now thats a real throwback huh)

there's too much i could say for dialogue but.... i'm super fond of the hurtful conversations present!vmin have in tlg (especially ch14, i reread that a lot), ignite the stars ch5 (also reread that a lot), and also i love pretty much everything that comes out of taehyung's mouth in folie à trois lol

(29) give us a spoiler for one of your stories. answered here, but since this one could be answered multiple times i'll bite......... my queue tag ("i'm glad it was queue") is a play on one of my favorite lines in all of tlg that i have been excited about getting to for yeaaaarrrssss. no one but me knows the line yet (or how hurtful its context is) bc it's in one of the final chapters hehehe but it's "i'm glad it was you" ..... :')

(48) do you reread your own stories? the answer to this used to be a strong NO!!!! but that has actually changed in the last two years! i don't rly reread anything older (my writing style has changed so much + there's things i'd change about older fics esp <2020 so it's not an enjoyable experience to me, i'd just fret over editing it) but there's some newer fics i reread bc they are So written to my own taste. i think i really improved a lot getting to write a bunch in lockdown lol + started caring less about whether ppl liked the fic and just wrote for ✨Me✨ so several of those recent fics i'm happy with and do reread sometimes like a stupid idiot narcissus

The ones i've reread the most are "sit, stay" + "sea legs" + favorite parts of "ignite the stars" and my favorite parts of "the losing game". the other scattered pwp's since 2020 have gotten reread about twice each. and i recently reread WBIO for the first time since writing it in early 2020!!! mixed feelings on that one bc i felt like i would change some parts of it if i wrote it today but that's a sign ur growing and improving i suppose

(55) do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? oh i have so fucking many 'WIPs' it's not even funny. there's probably like ~12 completely bullet point outlined medium length / longfics in my docs down to exact dialogue i'd write, and dozens more fic attempts that have a whole plot and ending. bc as soon as i come up with an idea i already immediately know how i want it to end. which gives me way too many Plot Bunnies that are viable to be turned into fics!!!!! two years ago i made a list of every idea i thought should at least see the light of day in threadfic form if not an actual fic and it came out to 30 fics lol (and that was cutting it down to the essentials)

the thing is, very few of my WIPs are ever 'abandoned' in my mind, it's more like... i put them in my mental freezer. on hold / on ice. and some of them are closer to the front and get taken out and rotated around and worked on more often, while others are shoved to the far back of the freezer as i say "i'll make that someday" and forget it exists til the next time im reminded of it. there's only a few that i'd actually toss in the trash (aka truly abandon and never work on again).

the ones that are definitely abandoned in that i know i dont Want to write them are all on the more domestic romcom side (think like 'meaner than mean' or 'i like us like this') i know people like those but they're the hardest thing for me to write, those were the most annoyed i've ever felt while writing, i would literally groan out loud working on them, i am rly only happy writing conflict/angst or pwp lol

tbh, if i were to be realistic with myself, i'd say most of these wip's are 'abandoned' in that i probably will never get around to finishing them. but i dont want to call them abandoned because i do like the plots, and think ppl would like them, and want to share them!!! i just think they would suck / not be fun to write. Maybe Someday i will do an archival effort and work on translating as many of them as i can into threadfic form so they see the light of day in some format and are no longer abandoned to rot in my docs... bc there's no way that most of them are ever going to be written the way i wish i could do them justice :') and then i can abandon them knowing that ppl at least got to read a vague outline of what could have been

fun fact: i opened the aforementioned list of all these ideas to count and on one of them, a fic i've been poking at since 2018, i have the note "finish this or die" next to it. guess i know which one i've picked atp 🪦

[dork-industries]

there was a study that showed you absorb more of the nutrients from food if you like it or are familiar with it rather than just eating it plain

like eating a whole carrot raw isn’t pleasant at all but after you do make changes and cook it the way you’d enjoy it (granted its still within reason and you haven’t like, drowned the carrot in butter (small amounts are perfectly fine) you’d get more nutrients from it than the raw one

our body just rejects stuff we dislike and it makes sense why

im no scientist or whatever but i saw a post about this a year ago or smth and thought i’d share

prepare your food in a way that suits you

a few examples i can share from my life - i dislike salad (it gets soggy rly fast and the bitter taste of the lettuce catches up with me fast) so i prefer eating lettuce wraps (stronger tastes help combat it) - don’t usually like eating raw tomatoes so i hide them in sandwiches (as thin slices) and soups - i have allergies and usually when i eat something i’m allergic to my mouth feels grainy and rough like sandpaper. so i dislike beans for this reason, one bean i do like and can tolerate is monggo beans, i eat them as soup over rice to help me deal with the texture

hope this helps y’all at home

i’m not a expert nor am i super good at this stuff but i thought i’d share my two cents or whatever

feel free to correct me if i got something wrong

Thinking today about how as someone with major texture issues around most fruits and vegetables, it would have helped so much if someone had come to me years ago and said

Hey:

Make it tiny

Mix it with something Good Texture that you like

"Eat healthy!" they say, and then they show you pictures of a smiling woman digging a fork into half a butternut squash or eyeing a bowl of whole blueberries like a ravening wolf and your spine wants to crawl out through your skull at the thought of that Texture in your mouth.

But you know what I can do? Cut zucchini into paper-thin slices and cook it with noodles and marinara. Chop that spinach fine and scramble it with eggs and cheese. If I'm having a day where the thought of a grape popping in my mouth makes me nauseous, I can cut it in half. My chinese takeout gets diced into tiny pieces and mixed into the rice. It doesn't work with everything - seeds are still a Major Problem - but the number of fruits and veg and even world cuisines that I can eat has expanded SO MUCH since I discovered this. YMMV, but it's such a stupidly simple thing to do, and nobody ever told me.

[anosci]

(317-331 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23])

names and thoughts below cut

317/ (all music entries from Assembly Summer 2023) all over the place etc. only a few standouts for me. i think my fav is "pedigree". its a rly good synthy (poppy? dosky?) romp. "line of the dead" is a fun cool change of pace. also: more d fast! "romanza"!

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318/ (all music entries from Function 2023) not much rly worked for me here actually… :( top 2 tunes are alrite. the best tune was in UFDD's demo… luv u slyspy

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319/ Savant - Vybz (2016) "Boss" immediately bangs woahoah after that its peaks and valleys imo "Worship" big highlight imo!! "Siluette" is another big highlight for completely different reasons also shoutout to "Zombie Cats" for a fun double retro romp

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320/ Planetary Assault Systems - Arc Angel (2016) vast atospheres. some of these are beautifully hypnotic. others are rather annoying. many overstay their welcome… hilights: "Max" is a rinse! still overstays tho… "Message From The Drone Sector" hits good. hypnotic.

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321/ Sakuzyo - Glitched Universe (2023) this took a while to set in for me.. i still have some mixed feelings. something about the sound design doesn't quite hit me right. highlights are either "Conversion" or "Distorted Fate". the latter feels like all the elements work together

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322/ Varien - My Prayers Have Become Ghosts (2016) initially just "p alrite" but it picked up for me! "The Pink Killing Floor" reaches into some BT vibes, but, ykno. 2016 monster. (this is cool.) "Dawn Will Bring Us Death" second fav track

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323/ Autechre - 2008-04-04 Echoplex [replication by ios & digit] not enjoying this as much as i thought i would. it kinda leans into the parts of the 2008-era-ae that i didnt dig as much that said: track 4 and 5. the ae-dnb in track 7! that iteration of IO!

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324/ VA - Commodore Trilogy (2016) surprised at how well "Short Bossa" holds its ground. vic20 what! possibly fav of this batch is "Never Succeed" and its sunshine field vibes second fav is "antimod". it just hits rite.

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325/ caro♡ - wild at ♡ (2023) incredibly light and fluffy and poppy. it doesn't quite work for me, though a few songs still stand out to my ears. (the ones with numbers lol) "in2u" is biggest soundout i think. its kinda ballad even, but. yeah it works for me.

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326/ Lapix - Flying Method (2023) mostly high intensity bangers here! "Primitive Vibes" has a wild energy, god damn. "& Intelligence" makes me want to use that headphone emoji. what was it? d-_-b "Glitch Angel" stuttery intensity, beauty <3

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327/ (all the music entries at Nordlicht 2023) sadly, I didn't really get into these for the most part. :\ my fav was actually "Train Station Candy Shop Shuffle Bop" it's a bit cheesy but i really really admire what Triace pulled from the pokey here.

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328/ (all ocremix posts in 2016) yeah im grouping these by years now. obviously it's a huge grabbag and a crime to only pick 3 highlights. nonetheless, for twitter: "Battle Against a Malignant & Repugnant Opponent" !! som "Thick Jams"! "Lucre"!! "Dancing in the Jungle"!!

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329/ Bibio - Sunbursting EP (2023) EXTREME lazy afternoon vibes. soft sunshine ykno. tbh it doesn't rly grab me. bibio is hit and miss for me sometimes. it's a bit meandery but I think "Rosewoods" is the highlight here.

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330/ イルマ - ソレユエ (2023) this is actually a little outside of my taste but it has a few tunes that really really work for me: "∴" has a touch of prog energy to it, which i enjoy despite the odd vocals and then "アイマイソウメイ" goes ham with those guitar licks! ez hilite

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331/ Ryuichi Sakamoto - async (2017) not what i was expecting! lots of ambient stuff that appeals to me in varying degrees. "disintegration" has a cool spooky sound to it that appeals to me. very tangible. piano. loving the swirling "stakra" thats abt it tho…

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next page...

[schneizel]

Day 1: new blog, new beginnings, old *squees*

Trying to blog weekly !! Will it work? OH WHO KNOWS.

Hello, there! ~ The name is Hana and this is my weeblog in case you haven’t noticed yet. Ehh before this I had the good old fandom Livejournal and then an anime(/bishounen/celebs/fashion?) blog for some 7? years, which I stopped updating for reasons, namely a sad sad combo of adulting and pandemic PLUS KyoAni arson and my favorite seiyuu getting into a scandal, which, phewww ..  Yes I badly needed a hug there.

To be fair my anime blog back then also got a little too #srsbsns ... and I started feeling the pressure to conform ; to industry wants and researching compulsively (which is what I like to do anyway just .. not as if it’s an unpaid job) and all that led me to lost sight of what I actually wanted to share as opposed to what others expected. And safety and security issues also played a part on why I quit anime blogging then. All of those worries turned my hobby of "anime blogging" into a bit of a chore. Honestly I enjoyed proving myself disciplined but it felt ultimately pointless. As soon as uni was over with, life got busier and ultimately I chose to quit blogging.

The great thing is the earlier experience made me realize two things -- one, what and how I actually enjoy and don't enjoy blogging about in other words: I NEED to FANGIRL ; two, that I really miss having a blog to track my feelings on stuff. My memory can’t be trusted at all ; ; ۹(๑`^´๑)۶ how to know whether I read the thing fr ??? And oh boy, it’s so good to have a blog’s archives for that! And not having it for the past few years rly made me feel like something was amiss. Because of that and also because my tastes didn’t really change .. seems that I failed to quit blogging for good ? ; ; 

If all that crap didn’t keep me from being a fujoshi I guess that is officially a personality trait now. Or has been for.. how many years- ten, twenty? oh my God. Since that isn’t changing any time soon, apparently... well. New blog - hoorraayy !!          

The theme, rather obviously, is: my hobbies ie. my fave bidimensional men & their hubbies (legit✔️) and the real men who voice them on occasion ! There are a lot of things and interests that I want to share but honestly, my intention is to have this become a humble scrapbook of sorts which is why I think Tumblr is the right platform soo I will be reblogging things I find relevant and try to update it at least weekly - keyword: try - and my fanworks too because why not? 

Hopefully this activity will be fun and kind both for me and for others ♡ May we not be pressured into “having fun” that’s not actually fun ; may we change as things change too ~  

[jostenneil]

thank you lis @xingiu for the tag! this is pick your favorite fanfic tropes 

1. slow burn or love at first sight / i immensely enjoy both but when done well i find love at first sight to be incredibly entertaining. it can be a bit corny and unrealistic obv but i like seeing ppl who fall head over heels for each other and prematurely enter a relationship, only to have to learn how to actually navigate it afterward 

2. fake dating or secret dating / i don’t particularly care for either 

3. enemies to lovers or best childhood friends to lovers / i'm a diehard edwin fan therefore this is the only conceivable answer. not to say that i don’t love enemies to lovers bc in its best iterations i definitely do, but the latter calls to me more esp bc there is so much you recognize and understand about a person you’ve known since you were children 

4. there’s only one bed or long distance correspondence / it’s about the angst of separation and going your respective ways bc each of you has your own goals or part to play in the greater landscape of the world! love it love it 

5. hurt/comfort or amnesia / i don’t think these are rly comparable tbh and both pack their punches really well. i am amnesia trope lover obv as someone who has extensively read through nearly the entire clamp catalogue and i am a hurt/comfort lover bc it’s literally the only thing i am capable of writing myself. (also here is one of the best amnesia trope fics absolutely ever, to bnha fans) 

7. mutual pining or domestic bliss / from a strictly fanfic perspective domestic bliss is just not something i am interested in or think about much like i have even tried to think about domestic things with characters i like and inevitably it always turns into angst, so 

8. smut or fluff / this is only bc fluff tends to severely annoy me with it’s mischaracterizations, and that’s not to say that smut can’t be totally ooc either but usually the good stuff is written well and with a pointed purpose that i can appreciate 

9. canon compliant or canon divergence / i am a naruto fan 

10. reincarnation or major character death / i don’t actually read a lot of fics with this trope but it’s something i think about regularly when i write meta so it’s kind of the same thing. reincarnation mostly feels like a copout to me with the only exception being clamp’s brand of it because it’s not just a throwaway thing done at the end of the story and is actually an extensive plot device 

12. kid fic or pregnancy / neither due to similar reasoning for domestic bliss 

13. arranged marriage or accidental marriage / it’s about the aaaaaangst. i only think people of color should be allowed to write about these things tho 

14. high school romances or aged-up romances / ig? i don’t really read a lot for fandoms where high school romances would come up. i like focusing on that college period instead usually esp if it’s about like how people drift apart after high school but coincidentally cross paths years later. good angsty stuff 

15. time travel or isolated together / idc about either 

16. neighbors or roommates / i like these in books but in fanfic idc 

17. sci-fi au or magic au / i don’t like reading aus in fanfic 

18. angst or crack / amy made a meme for me that said writing about characters’ trauma 24/7 on twitter is not therapy get help. so i think that explains this one quite aptly 

19. apocalyptic or mundane / [pulls up several tweets where i talk about the worth in stories about normal people doing everyday things and still suffering bc ultimately they’re human and have a capacity to hurt and be hurt] 

20. linear storyline or nonlinear storyline / either is fine and depends more on the mastery of the writer than the use of the trope itself 

21. holiday fic or birthday fic / these are just lukewarm aus so idc about these either 

22. love triangle or miscommunication / since this is talking about fanfic i’m going to say neither bc it’s honestly not something i look for at all. but i am a staunch advocate for love triangles and miscommunication in published media bc when used well they’re exquisite. unfortunately a lot of mainstream media does not use them well so it’s lead to complaints over the years but i have good taste and don’t suffer from that problem. amen 

i’m not going to tag anyone bc i honestly do not have a lot of mutuals i actually talk to on here gjdfkhjldgf but feel free to do it anyway! 

[faorism]

(some/all of this will be going into my current wip coming out soon but i need to riff for a sec about leverage international deciding to actually consider their hitters' limits. significant contributions from my bud cecil.)

there won't be another eliot spencer.

for a lot of reasons, obviously. perfection was achieved early with that hot piece of punchy hands eye candy, and it's hard to become a boogeyman when eliot's name is already a whisper in the night. but there won't be another eliot spencer because leverage international does not fucking allow shit like the (un)knowing exploitation of a hitters body anymore. there won't be another hitter spending their retirement with pains that wont go away and mornings they can't get up and a fog in their brain that steals memories and thoughts and words with the precision of a thief, but these are stolen objects not even the best retrieval specialists could ever bring back.

there won't be another eliot spencer, not under parker and alec's watch.

masterminds (or whatever they decide to call their point) have to budget field time for hitters. as such, teams usually have at least two, so no one is doing consecutive jobs or working after a bad hit. hitters join a team and their masterminds must have a proposal to parker within the year of what alternative role hitters will be trained for over time. eight years is the absolute limit for hitter only assignments, four after that for mixed roles inclusive of hitter, but those twelve years total is pushing it to the very max.

theres no private hot nurses you pretend are just a hook up and are rly actual nurses. theres a league of health care professionals recruited to help. they are better trained than typical US health care orders. no "black people feel less pain/have stronger bones/extra muscles" or "women complain more/have a lower pain tolerance" bullshit in their medical network. no gender essentialism bullshit about bodies or transphobic language or practices. therapy aint mandatory but damn is it recommended hard.

the episode in 2.0 with the woman whose cop ex stalked her planted a seed. like, fuck why dont we check in. and even if there's not an active bad guy doing shit,, getting your life together and recovering from the trauma of victimization? that is hard.

leverage international becomes an ecosystem.

social worker has a bad taste in parkers mouth, so they call it something else. people who care. people who will check in. you are part of our protection forever like let's change the world. you guys are the good guys and can do things we can't imagine. so we are going to make sure you can do your thing, because theres only so much of an arms race we can do with bad guys vs bad guys.

truly an arms race: if it was nate's leverage international, they would be running fire through the world and taking down every fucker around and itll be warfare, as eliot says in the finale of 1.0. and that's how it starts with just them three but idk they didnt have to live like that. they shouldn't, and they teach others they shouldnt either. because how many bad guy security folks are told they have to start hitting harder & bring bigger guns, but they weren't so sure about this job to begin with, and maybe now is a good exit time? and then they end up on leverage's payroll instead.

nate would be disappointed about how slowly they are taking own the bad guys with so many people involved.

but nate would never have come up with this in all his plans. this kind of collaboration just wasn't in his alphabet. because as @july-19th-club argued so well, god love that ornery bastard but nate? nate never had that vision, you know? because this truly an extension of hardison's love. alec is here to make the world a better shelter for those he loves.

and by bre's time, recognition has shifted to "actually, this isn't just the scaled up adult version of a bully on the playground. this is the system. they have a network. we need to build our own."

the jobs are slower and paced because (1) the bad guys are spooked because the fuck is going on why cant anyone keep their money why is everyone going to actual jail; (2) their hitters are getting more ruthless; (3) leverage is like trying not to destroy their crews thru exhaustion; and (4) Plan Fucking Ms are goddamn unacceptable like the fuck nate thr fuck,,, parkers three jobs in tryna run leverage like nate and like how did you joke about that how do you have so casually in your brain like, oh yeah hardison the """"weak"""" one dies.

people are going to get hurt and die, because what they do is dangerous and you cannot account for it all and no one can replicate the magic skill/luck that was working with the OG leverage crew. but. but. if they need to scale back and slow down and have bigger teams and more training or whatever to protect their fucking family then fuck it. that's what they will fucking do.

there won't be another eliot spencer, but he will always be remembered. known. but the legacy of eliots work is not that he was an indestructible force. but the knowledge that every life is sacred and to be protected, not just the ppl you are putting your body in front of to defend but also yourself. and thats? thats love. thats a world truly changing and changed.

[shingia]

call me a fool

↳ timeskip! atsumu x reader

↳ angst to fluff | exes-to-lovers | wc: 1.3k

↳ a/n: i fell asleep three times while finishing this but i rly wanted to post tonight so here it is, not proofread at all :>

the café next to the florist was far from being the best café you had ever been to. to be perfectly honest, it kind of sucked.

the coffee didn’t taste good, the lightning was terrible, the people were rude... it’s a shame that atsumu chose to take you there on your first date.

looking back now, he must’ve been awfully confident in his charms to bring you to such an ill-famed place and still hope to get a kiss from you after driving you back home.

but he did get a kiss. one that led to many more throughout the years. hell, he got thousands, and so did you. but if the first one had the bitterness of coffee, the last one had the saltiness of tears.

oddly enough, it was mostly his tears. yours were shed much later, when the thought that he had just put an end to everything you had built in two years had started to settle in.

funny way to treat the person he had once promised to marry.

but according to his last words, he still loved you. he just didn’t think he could ‘handle both my career and ya’.

and it’s probably what caused you the greatest pain. along with the fact that, from what you could’ve seen in the news, he seemed to do well. maybe a bit too well to your liking.

and that’s why, as heavy as your heart was whenever you came back to that café, you barely felt any sadness sting your heart and throat when you spotted him behind the counter; after a year of only seeing his face through tiny pixels.

it was awfully tempting to turn back. because no matter what happened, you knew he could probably still read you better than anyone.

and you didn’t need him to know that you had kept his favorite t-shirt under your pillow, let alone that every night you spent not clinging to it was considered a victory.

but what you didn’t know is that the boy who had forgotten to leave your heart when he left your home wasn’t doing as fine as he tried so hard to make everyone believe. and luckily for him - or was it really luck? - you could read him just as well as he could read you.

“what are you doing here?”

his spine straightened up in a flash.

your voice didn’t even sound like your voice. maybe it was the bitterness of your tone, or maybe it was just time that has distorted his memories. but no matter what it sounded like, your voice still felt like home.

even better, it felt like his home. much more than any late night phone calls to his brother or even his mom when your absence made it impossible for him to fall asleep peacefully.

it was that specific feeling that he was craving when his hopeful eyes looked for your face in the stands before every single one of his serves.

“what are ya doin’ here?”

of course he hadn’t actually forgotten that you lived three buildings away from the café. it would have been odd since he could still remember how the ninth step of the hall stairs was a bit more crooked than the others.

under normal circumstances, the memories of how many times he had tripped in these stairs would’ve been enough to make the two of you laugh. needless to say that today’s circumstances weren’t exactly normal.

“i come here everyday”

you regretted your words before even letting them out what if he started thinking that you still weren’t over him? or that this habit of yours was only a way to trick your brain into thinking that nothing had changed?

well… he would’ve just guessed the truth.

“do ya miss me?”

that was quite an unexpected question. but you knew atsumu well enough to know that you shouldn’t just pay attention to his words, but to his face as well.

eyes opened a bit wider than before, fingers fiddling with the lid of his cup, and his upper body slightly leaned towards you: he was obviously waiting for you to say yes.

“what if i do?” you asked, finally sitting down next to him with one elbow on the counter, “you have everything you’ve always wanted now, right?”

something was wrong with the way you phrased this.

sure, everything he had now, he wanted it. but it didn’t mean that he had everything he wanted.

“well, i miss ya”

you chuckled, but weren’t really amused. it’s just that his words made you remember that the bluntness of his tone was probably what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“…and, call me a fool but i think i still wanna marry ya”

now that was a little too blunt, even for him.

“don’t say that, tsu- atsumu…” you corrected yourself.

it was probably the exhausting schedule of his athlete life that had made him say something as ridiculous as this. if it was, you couldn’t let him say one more word. because you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to place all your hopes into him once again.

that was the power miya atsumu had over you: you believed everything he said, because he believed it too.

“well, not now of course!” he exclaimed, as if this was your biggest concern, “i just… i miss who i was when i was with ya. and i miss not feelin’ sad when i look at my phone”.

and, very naturally, he tapped his screen with two fingers, revealing a picture of the two of you, one that that you had spent hours staring at, alone in your bed, and that used to be your lock screen up until six months ago.

but knowing that it was still the first thing he laid his eyes on every morning made you understand something: no matter how bad you were hurt after he left, he was probably just as hurt as you.

and you knew very well that the people around him must have told him to delete that picture countless times. but in addition to being blunt, atsumu was stubborn. and that was another thing that made you fall hard for him.

“don’t ya miss my morning calls to wake ya up? or- or my cuddles? ya can’t tell me ya don’t miss these…” he asked, and once again you could tell he didn’t mean to be presumptuous. he was just as genuine as always.

and so you did say yes. because how could you still put up a brave front when he was laying himself bare?

“ya don’t have to marry me. i just… i just need to hold ya somewhere other than in my dreams”

with that being said, he stood up. because no matter how blunt and stubborn he was, he wasn’t immune to embarrassment.

and now was probably your turn to say something.

“i don’t know if i’ll marry you, tsumu” you finally spoke up, hesitantly grabbing his hand to hold him back, “but i know that i also need it to be real”.

there it was, that hopeful spark. it was back in his eyes.

“and i do miss your cuddles…” you then admitted with a sheepish voice, but didn’t expect him to immediately wrap his arms around your neck to pull you in for a long-awaited hug.

saying that it didn’t feel weird would’ve been a lie. but saying that it didn’t feel good would’ve been an even bigger lie. because everything from his smell to the way your palms instinctively found their way to his back made that hug feel like the greatest of gifts.

“i miss yours too” he whispered against your ear as your embrace suddenly tightened around him.

did it make you look desperate? probably. but if anything, you looked just as desperate as the fool that had just promised to marry you. for the second time.

TAGLIST : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @ughgojo @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @azuluuv @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kohi-zeri @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @m0iw @maitenight @xomiya @shoyotime @ebiharachan @smolmo @lilliansis @succulentmom @akkeyomi @koifish69 @itachislut @ushijimasassmuscle

[commajade]

Just read your answer to the last ask about Sunmi and now I recall some people accusing Jonghyun and Taemin of queerbaitng during those Internet War performances (I think this was late 2012? I'm a new fan and didn't discover SHINee until last year.) I'm gay, a biracial American living in the US, and have zero clue about being an LGBTQIA+ person in Korea. I've seen you reblog stuff about Internet War and am curious for your take on the whole thing.

internet war.... queerbaiting..... that is literally so funny.... also wasn't rly a common concept in kpop discourse in 2012? i feel like that discourse is a more recent thing.

basically what that is in my opinion is that sm let the members pick their own covers for the setlist in their tours (key famously used the opportunity for his iconic hair+judah cover performance). taemin was v much into screamo/harder rock at the time and jonghyun has a broad music taste so they were just like yeah let's do the seo taiji song internet war! and then for concept, staging, and performance they were like yeah let's make this as homoerotic as possible. like i rly think they just did all that for fun and sm just let them. and then it became a huge controversy with ppl talking about gay it is and jonghyun changed his profile pic to their hands handcuffed together at the end of the performance as a fuck you we did what we did. and then it eventually blew over and jonghyun was consistent and open about his support of lgbt ppl for his whole career basically, notably when he changed his profile pic to a protest letter written by a trans bi high school aged girl with permission as a show of support.

[ninyard]

part two of the stefan/andrew au PLEASE

WELP this might not be the part two people wanted but here’s what I wanted so~ enjoy!

(Part 1 ? is here)

((this got rly long so I had to stop but if u want a third part lmk 🥺👉👈))

Neil made his first mistake by not bolting the opposite way when Coach Hernandez told him he had visitors. An Exy racquet to the chest and a single glance at those bright hazel eyes turned Neils entire world sideways in seconds. This couldn’t be happening. Neil almost couldn’t hold back the ‘Andrew?’ that wished to escape his lips. Of course, this wasn’t Stefan’s Andrew, but Neil knew that already. Life had turned Andrew Minyard into a man of manufactured emotions, a life of violence and misled decisions landing him on Coach Wymack’s pity party guest list that was the Foxes’ lineup. Andrew didn’t flinch looking at Neil, and Neil begged the universe to have erased the memory of Stefan from Andrew mind. He hung around a motel, for Christ’s sake, how many other people would he have met before and after Stefan? Neil Josten looked totally different, with puberty, hair dye and new contact lenses on his side.

The second mistake he made was not realising Kevin Day was going to be around. If Andrew wasn’t dangerous enough, Kevin was even more so. Neil couldn’t believe his eyes the moment he looked closely at the teams lineup from the previous year. Kevin Day would have forgotten Nathaniel Wesninski, he was sure of it, but to look across to a picture of the teams goalkeeper and seeing the short blond boy he met in California? It was a sure sign for Neil to stay the hell away from South Carolina.

Neil’s biggest mistake was deciding to push his luck and take a plane there to sign with the Foxes. He was signing a death wish; but he didn’t care anymore. He was a dead man walking, living off stolen hours. It was only a matter of time before someone caught up with him. His mother was dead, god, his mom, Mary Hatford, the woman who taught him how to be. It wasn’t just like Debby, who died leaving Toronto, or Alice, who died leaving London, or Judy who died on the train between Germany and Prague. This was permanent, and Neil didn’t think he could run for much longer.

Andrew didn’t say anything during their meeting, in which he had plenty of opportunities to at least look like he recognised Neil, or the features of Stefan still left on his face. Kevin didn’t say anything either, and his words made it clear he didn’t remember Nathaniel, either. Neil was walking a thing line between life and death, with Stefan on one shoulder and Nathaniel on the other, waiting to tip him over, to expose the truth, to leave him buried like his mother.

The first night Neil slept - or more so lay on the couch in silence for hours, brain filled with noise and regret - in David’s apartment, he couldn’t stop thinking about Andrew. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kid with white-blond hair and a toothy smile, who ran his fingers so gently over Stefan’s skin, like he would break if Andrew dared get any closer. He couldn’t stop thinking about the playground, and the motel, and the kisses… and the punches, the kicks, the pulling of hair, the slaps across the face with yells to accompany them. Before Neil knew it he was stuck with his face hovering over the toilet bowl, his stomach threatening to burst at any moment. After a minute of gagging and spitting into the water, Neil washed his face and headed towards the balcony that David told him to smoke on if he needed to. This was one of those needing to moments.

Weeks went by without any indication he was going to be caught. Kevin looked at him like a stupid amateur, which was good for Nathaniel’s sake, but for Neil? Neil, who fought like his life depended on the racquet in his hands? Neil, who ran like his father was hot on his heels every single time he set off down the court? It hurt him to be insulted so often, but Kevin was leagues above him when he played. Neil was never going to be good enough. Andrew avoided him as much as possible. Nicky told him that was just how Andrew was; if you brought him no benefit, or if you made him bored, he would put you on a high shelf and never look at you again. By the way Andrew only spoke to Neil when Neil stood up to Kevin, Neil thought it was obvious that Andrew didn’t recognise him.

And then came the invite to Columbia.

“Get rid of the contacts, by the way.” Nicky had brushed off the realisation like it was nothing. It sounded like ‘you have something in your teeth’ but felt like a screaming siren above Neil’s head. It felt like a punch to the gut, like a gun to his head. “Andrew’s decision. And brown, Neil? You’re so predictable and boring it’s adorable.” He’d left a bag of clothes with Neil.

When Neil looked at his blue eyes, he felt too many feelings he couldn’t describe, or name. He felt like he was looking at his father. He felt like he was looking into the mirror like he had the last time he was Nathaniel. The last time he was in Baltimore. He’d cycled through the catalogue of contacts during his time on the run, but never once went back to blue. They were the icy eyes of a murderer, not the eyes of quiet, boring Neil. But at least they weren’t green. Neil was worried about Kevin recognising him by his eyes, but it was going to be dark out by the time they left. Neil would just have to stay in the dark around Kevin, and hope he got too drunk to notice, too drunk to remember.

When Andrew’s group came to pick Neil up, there was a change in dynamic Neil hadn’t seen before. Instead of Nicky being the middle man in their conversations, or Kevin being the reason to talk, Andrew was taking charge of their night. Neil’s heart raced every time he looked into his eyes. Every time he heard that voice it told him to run, the same voice as before, only deeper, emotionless. Neil couldn’t imagine this Andrew crying. Neil couldn’t imagine this Andrew being open, about his sexuality, or his feelings. If he didn’t look almost the same only older, he would probably doubt this was even the same Andrew.

“Oh! Oh, now, that’s interesting!” Andrew had commented as Neil left his dorm room. Nicky, Aaron and Kevin had walked ahead of the two of them. When they’d disappeared around the corner into the elevator down, Andrew turned and grabbed Neil’s face to inspect it. “What a change, hmm? Blue to brown is a bit drastic for fashion, don’t you think?”

“I’ve never liked my eyes,” Neil spoke through the fingers that rested over his lips. “I’ve worn them brown most my life.” Andrew tutted as Neil spoke, but left that thought there. His features were angry, like Neil had insulted him, but he S miled like he’d been talking to his best friend. He placed a cigarette between his lips as they joined the others in the elevator.

Before long, they were walking through the doors of Eden’s Twilight, music pumping and swirling through the air, vibrating their bodies as they walked. Andrew motioned for Neil to follow him to the bar once they’d found a table.

“Shots on me.” He’d come down from his manic high, waiting for his dust adrenaline to kick in. His smile was gone, but his tone and way of speaking was still the same. “What do you drink?”

“I don’t,” Neil answered, having to yell over the music.

“Sure you do.” Andrew waved him off. “I’m being polite. What do you drink?” He asked again, as the bartender came over.

“A coke for me.” Neil told the man behind the bar before he could ask Andrew. “Just a little ice.”

“See, now, Pinocchio, when someone offers you a gift you say thank you and accept it.” Andrew turned towards the man. “Roland. This is Neil. He’s a newbie.”

“I hear you,” Roland nodded, already placing shot glasses on the tray he’d put on the bar. “My choice, with dash for the new kid.” He poured a clear spirit into eight shot glasses, and used the fountain tap to fill a larger glass with cola. Andrew passed cash over and waved off his change as a tip. Before Neil knew it he was heading through the crowd, Andrew balancing the tray on one hand held high above his head. They reached the table and nothing has spilled, and before Neil knew it, the shot glasses were stacked in a tower on the tray as Neil nursed his coke.

“You don’t drink.” Andrew turned to Neil after watching the others take to the dance floor, coming up on their high, dusting when they couldn’t be seen. “Why?”

“Hate the taste, mostly.” That would be the truth if ‘taste’ actually meant ‘feeling of being out of control of my body’. He shrugged at Andrew’s dissatisfaction with that answer.

“You come to university and you don’t drink?” Andrew scoffed. “Do you smoke?” Neil shook his head. He’d tried an edible by accident once in some cafe in Europe, and got so paranoid they had to move on that night. He swore he saw his dad staring in the windows in the red-light district, a blunt between his lips, a smile made of murder wrapped around it.

“Not for me.” Neil took a sip from the cold coke. “Hard to find when it’s not legal and I hate the cops. Takes too much effort to roll.” Neil lied, like he knew what he was talking about, but he just remembered watching people in the cities he went to, everywhere having their local stoners, the folks who sat in the parks without a care in the world.

“You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, you won’t dust.” Andrew rattled off the options. “Is it molly you’d prefer?” And when Neil shook his head again: “Psychedelics? Benzos?”

“I’m just not interested.” Neil looked into his glass, focusing on the ice. If he kept looking at Andrew he felt like he would crack. “Don’t we get tested before games anyway? What’s the point?” Andrew didn’t answer before he heading back up the bar. Neil didn’t follow this time. When he came back, there was ten shot glasses on the table. Again, eight filled with an unnamed spirit that burned Neil’s nose and twisted his stomach. The other two were cola.

“I’d hate for the new boy to feel left out.” Aaron, Nicky and Kevin had arrived back to the table for their shots. Andrew handed Neil one of his glasses. Neil knocked it back when the others did. It was ordinary coke, no surprises, no weird tastes, no reason for Neil to believe Andrew would have given him a shot of alcohol instead. That was, until he clinked glasses with the others and swallowed the second shot in a quick movement. He felt the alcohol burn his throat. It warmed his chest, but the familiar feeling wasn’t what worried him. It was the taste of salt on his tongue when he hadn’t licked any before hand. He quickly excused himself from the table and left for the bathroom.

Andrew had drugged him. He didn’t know why, but all he knew was the crackers were already coursing through his veins with deadly adrenaline. He was sure his racing heart wasn’t helping. It didn’t help, either, when Nicky reached the stairs before he did, and pulled him in for a salty, dusty kiss. Neil pushed him off as discreetly as he could.

“Nothing?” Nicky complained as he Neil bounced up the sticky stairs two steps at a time. Neil was sure he heard him say something about Neil being too hot to be straight, but the roaring anxiety in his ears was enough to drown it out. He locked himself in a stall and tried to best to throw up. He hadn’t eaten before he’d left, and he hadn’t drank anything other than he soda, so his attempts were fairly futile. A knock at the door interrupted him, and when he answered with a quick ‘occupied!’ He heard the door unlocking from the outside. Andrew pushed his way into the cramped stall and shut the door behind him. Before Neil could even begin to object Andrew had grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall, Neil struggling to keep his balance with the toilet in the way.

“You don’t like the taste of alcohol or you’re afraid of losing control? Telling your truths?” Andrew’s drug induced smile had returned with mischief and malice. “Let’s see how this does!” His voice was low as he spoke, with an enthusiasm to his words that made Neil sweat. When he went to protest, Andrew covered his mouth with his free hand.

“Shut up,” He clicked his tongue. “You have spent your entire extended stay here lying to me and lying to poor, gullible Coach. I see the way you look at Kevin, too. Either you’re lying about not swinging or there’s something deeper to that intimidation.” Neil tried to get out a ‘I don’t swing.’ Before Andrew shushed him again. “Don’t keep lying, newbie! One last chance at honesty.” He lifted his hand no more than an inch from Neil’s mouth. Neil was sweating, his hands shaky, his mind turning into fog, desperate to cling to any sort of euphoria it could find. When it’s search came up empty, it filled his stomach, his head, his hands, his feet, with anxious buzzing instead. He couldn’t ignore the nauseating feelings the drugs brought with them.

“I don’t swing,” Neil stood his ground. “I don’t.” Andrew brought his hand up to Neils hair and yanked him down to his level, hard. He kept an inescapable grip in his curls as their faces almost touched.

“Still don’t know?” Andrew pouted in fake-pity. “Ten years later and you still don’t know?” Neil’s stomach would’ve fallen from his body if it’s got the chance. His heart would’ve went with it when Andrew continued. “There better be a good reason for Neil existing, Stefan, and I can’t wait to hear it.”

“What?” He tried, but it was no use. His voice failed him, cracking as the futile attempts at lying left his lips. “I don’t know what-“

“Shut up.” Andrew repeated. His grip not relaxing. Neil was worried he was pulling his hair from the root, but that was probably the least of his worries. Probably. “Do not lie to me again.” Neil searched his eyes for a sliver of doubt. A tiny, tiny possibility that he might think he was wrong. It wasn’t there. He’d been caught.

“Andrew.” He wrapped his hands around Andrew’s wrist, the one hovering over his head, muscles tense from the grip on his head. “Can we talk without ripping my fucking hair out?”

Before Neil could react, Andrew had let go of his hair, but in doing so, had swung his head with full force into the side walls of the stall. His balance finally failed him, but Andrew caught him by the neck of the black turtleneck he’d been gifted. He heard a few stitches pop, but it didn’t matter. The sudden movements turned Neil’s stomach with a violent wave, and he gagged hard, his stomach threatening to come out his mouth. He leaned over to spit into the toilet and bared his teeth at Andrew, breathing heavily through them.

“So he lives,” Andrew smiled, his pupils blown, a white-knuckled hold on Stefan-Neil’s collar. Neil was afraid he was going to pass out. His body was on fire, his mind screaming like an emergency broadcast alarm. “Tell me you didn’t know, oh humour me! I’d hate to think you’re stupid enough to come here still in possession of the memory from there.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember.” Neil didn’t break eye contact.

“So you ARE that stupid!” Andrew pushed him back, letting go of his top. Neil tried to assess his escape routes, but it was no use. He couldn’t get out of this. “I remembered little Stefan the second Kevin showed me your file. I didn’t think it would be you, surely it couldn’t be, but our little visit to fuckport, Arizona couldn’t lie to me like you did. So is it Neil, or is it Stefan?”

“Neither.” He spat out the honesty, worried if he waited, another lie would take it’s place. “But you can call me Neil.”

“Oh, no, no!” Andrew grabbed him by the neck, holding his jaw in a way that could become a choke very quickly. “Maybe I’ll stick with Stefan. You don’t get a say. You know, I thought mommy killed you.” A knife twisted in Neil’s gut.

“She’s dead.” Neil tried to breath through his unwanted come-up. “That’s the only reason I’m here. Because she wasn’t alive to stop me.”

“Did you do it?” He held Neils face like the world would end if he let go. He held even tighter when Neil tried to pull away.

“No.” That was all he said. He thought about continuing, considering the fact he was a dead man already. But he stopped himself. How could he say it was his dad without saying he was the mafias right-hand-murderer? Was he wasting his time lying?

“Didn’t think you did.” Andrew laughed, barely even blinking as he intimidated Neil. “No balls then, no balls now.”

“I was twelve.” He spat through crushed cheeks. “We were kids.”

“Old enough to be a liar.” Andrew let go of Neil’s face with a forceful push and turned to open the stall door. “You’re going to lead us outside. If you deviate or try to run I’ll kill you. I will kill you.” So Neil did just that. He led the way in silence, down the stairs and towards the exit. When Nicky stopped and excitedly asked where they were going, Neil looked back to Andrew who waved his pack of cigarettes, a smile on his face, no essence of a lie present. Neil just kept walking, kept his head down, and tried to ignore the pain on the side of his head. When they reached the outside of the club, the brisk air biting their exposed skin, Neil turned to the first man he saw, a club-goer at the top of the queue, and swung a punch up. Andrew noticed the second his hands left his sides, balled up with a plan. The man threw a hefty punch back, shouting intimidations, knocking Neil’s short frame to the ground. As quick as humanly possible, Andrew had hoisted him up, wrapped his arms around his back and twisted his wrist in such a way that a single jolt would break it. He held him in that position with one hand, putting all his strength into keeping Neil still.

“He gets crazy on tequila!” Andrew laughed, shaking his head as he took out his wallet and pulled out a fifty note. He threw it at the guy as compensation, his friends holding him back from beating Neil’s vulnerable, ballsy ass. He continued yelling as Andrew hauled him away. He grunted in pain as he refused to loosen his grip on Neil’s wrists. He walked him around the back of the club, to an empty, barely lit parking lot. He threw him to the ground so quickly he didn’t have time to stop his fall.

“Every moment I spend around you, you prove you’re much fucking dumber than I thought.” Andrew spat down, then crouching down to Neil’s level, balancing on the tops of his feet. Neil cradled his head, arms wrapped around the nape of his neck. He was sure he had a concussion. He could barely open his eyes through the pulsing blood rushing through his head, but forced himself to, to look up at Andrew’s smiling face.

“What happened?” Spit dripped down his chin, blood slowly trickling from the busted lip he’d earned himself. “What happened to that Andrew?” Andrew froze for half a second, and Neil noticed. “The Andrew who cried because he was gay? The kid who actually fucking cared about anything?”

“Oh, you are treading thin fucking ice for someone who doesn’t know how to swim.” Andrew tilted his head. “Mention another precious memory and I won’t hesitate to actually break your wrist next time.”

“Why?” He spat blood at Andrew’s feet. “Afraid somebody might remember what you’re actually like when you’re not pretending to be a sociopath?” Andrew opened his mouth at the challenge, a smile creeping up one side of his face. “Are you afraid to actually have someone around you know anything about you? I’m a threat. That’s all you care about.” He continued. “What, do you think I’ll use it against you? You’ve been treating me like shit since we met. If I was going to stab you in the back I’d have done it already, asshole.”

“Since we met, again.” He corrected the most irrelevant part of Neils sentiment.

“Let me go now and I’ll move on. You won’t ever see me again.” Neil bargained. Andrew’s eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. “This time I’ll get a chance to say goodbye.”

“No,” Andrew stopped him. “You don’t get to arrive in to my life like a tornado and disappear. You don’t get to dig your own grave and push me into it.” He bent down to get closer to Neils shaking face. “You’re going to tell me exactly what happened first. Tell me what she did to you.”

“No.” Neil strained. “I moved on. You were dangerous. You almost got me killed.”

“Boohoo, do you hear my tiny violin, liar?” Andrew grabbed a hold of his hair again. Neil let out a cry of pain, trying to pry Andrew’s fingers from his scalp. “Talk. Talk or I will get you killed.”

“My father is a very dangerous man. He’s murdered more people than there are days in a year.” Neil wiped the blood from his lips. It stung as he did so, but it didn’t matter. He took out a small stack of IDs from his wallet and threw them across to Andrew. For a second, anyone would’ve thought they were real, but closer inspection killed that thought. Andrew was holding a driver’s license belonging to Chris Angle, 21, from New York. A European passport card signed by George Debois from Paris. A gym membership from Seattle, an employee pass from Toronto, two more drivers licenses from cities across the globe. All the names were different, but they didn’t belong to different people. They all had pictures of Neil on them. Some he had long hair, short hair, an unfortunate buzz-cut. He wore a beard in some, the baby face of a teenager in others. “You aren’t the only one I’ve lied to. Don’t think you’re special.” Andrew snapped the IDs with angry force. Neil took a deep breath, knowing the last memories of his mother were buried in the face of Christopher Hart, snapped in half, just like that. He continued searching through his wallet. Deep into the card pockets of the tattered leather. He didn’t look up when he heard Andrew drop the scraps of his identities on the ground. Neil found what he was looking for and threw it again, across the space separating them, it clattering by his feet. “If my mom found that she’d have killed me herself. We ran so she could protect me. I made that so much harder on her by meeting you.” Andrew inspected the card he’d been thrown. An under-eye twitch and a slow inhale accompanied his realisation. “You want to hate me for what she made me do, fine, but it was inevitable. You were never going to be the reason that made us stay.”

Neil had given Andrew something he couldn’t bare to part with. His old wallet stayed buried deep, deep in his belongings, so well hidden his mother hadn’t even known it existed. He usually kept his current IDs on his person, and never in a wallet. It was a ticking time bomb, but Neil needed something. He needed a reason to feel, and if that was the memory of the good day his mom had had when they finally showered after weeks of baby wipes and deodorant, it was something to hold on to. Neil had to stay grounded in some sort of reality. He was on the run, sure, but the people he met, the things he’d done? They were real. It hurt to see those memories snapped on the ground like trash, but Andrew didn’t snap the memory he held in his hands.

Andrew held the library card of Stefan Montgomery. It had a faded black and white photo on it, scratched out with time. He had begged the librarian to let him have the card without taking a picture, but she had insisted it was necessary so people didn’t have more than one. In the photo was a scared little boy, a gash on his cheek, with crispy curls and a skinny face. Neil remembered walking to the library when he couldn’t find Andrew, taking out books to help him learn any of the languages he needed to know. The library in Oakland taught him about the history of Spain, and the culture in France. There was something about Stefan that Neil didn’t want to forget. He’d kept that library card safe as if it were a lifeline, like he knew it would come in handy some day.

And then Andrew threw it across the empty parking lot like a frisbee.

“She didn’t see anything.” Neil tried, as if it would help. “We left because I made a friend. Not because… you know.”

“I was not your friend.” Andrew stood up and put a cigarette between his teeth. He lit it, one puff, two puff, three puffs until it burned red. “I was never your friend.”

“You were.” Neil struggled to stand up and join him. “Don’t lie to a liar.”

“You remember it wrong!” He took a short drag and flicked ash as he spoke. “You were a toy to play with when there was nothing else to do.”

“You could’ve went home.” Neil took the cigarette from Andrew’s fingers. “But hey, I wasn’t the only one who needed to escape heavy hands, right?” He pulled the smoke into his lungs and breathed out before flicking the barely smoked cigarette away. “You were my friend. You had Stefan killed because I cared about you when Stefan wasn’t supposed to care about anybody.”

“Be quiet.” Andrew pulled another cigarette from the packet and squared up to Neil who was standing so close he could feel Andrew’s breath hot on his face. “You didn’t care.”

“Are you listening?” Neil spat again, the heat of the cigarette having hurt his cracked lips. “We left because of you. Because I let you in, and I’m sorry you were collateral damage in our war against the world but fuck, we didn’t have a choice. Do you think I wanted to leave? I was going to leave you a note, but she wouldn’t leave my side until we were in another city and Stefan was just another name in the pile. Fuck you if you don’t want to believe that. I don’t owe you an explanation but you’ve got one anyway. Tell me to leave and I’ll go. Tell me you understand and I’ll go, Andrew.”

“I waited for you.” Andrew exhaled honestly through cigarette smoke. “Every day! The fourth day I tried knocking on the door of your motel room. Fifth day a random couple opened the door and I knew you weren’t coming back. Why should I give you another chance, hmm? When you so easily could run away before, who’s to say you won’t do it again?”

“I’m not asking for another chance,” Neil head was pounding. He felt like he could pass out, his ears ringing and body jittery. “I don’t know, maybe I’m asking you to remember what I meant to you.” Andrew pursed his lips at that. He was struggling to keep his composure, like the memory of before was chipping away slowly at this version of Andrew. He was holding himself together with twitches and small fidgets.

“I hate you.” He said, coldly. He had lit his cigarette and smoked through half of it before speaking again. Neil just stood, suddenly thinking about if Kevin were to find the IDs scattered on the floor. He didn’t even think he could lie to Nicky about that. He would pick them up in a moment, but he couldn’t afford to lose Andrew’s interest in the conversation. If Neil got distracted now he could ruin every chance he possible had at reconciling some sort of relationship with Andrew.

“I hate what the world has turned you into.” Andrew snorted a laugh at Neil’s dramatics.

“Oh, you are a pipe bomb.” Andrew started to walk away, but when Neil grabbed his arm to stop him, in a quicker movement he had twisted Neil’s arm in some sort of self defence move that hurt. “You don’t have a right to touch me anymore. Keep your lying hands to yourself or I’ll break every one of your fingers.” He didn’t let go immediately.

“Do you miss it?” Neil searched Andrew’s eyes for something, anything. “Being vulnerable? Being comforted instead of being alone, blaming the world for your problems?” Before Neil could even think to keep going, Andrew had used his free hand to manoeuvre a knife from his arm bands and hold it up to Neil’s face.

“I dare you to keep pushing.” His words were casual, but a threat nonetheless. “Stop trying to control a life you left. I won’t be a scratching post for your mommy issues, runaway.”

“What did Jakub do to you?” Neil brought a memory out from the depths. As soon as the name left his lips, Andrew’s entire body hardened and his eyes turned to glass. He slashed a cut into Neil’s cheekbone without hesitation and proceeded to let go of his arm and jam a thumb into the fresh wound. “Why did you spend your childhood alone in a playground?” Neil spoke through gritted teeth.

“If you want to keep your fantasy alive I advise you to really shut up now.” Andrew pushed him backwards, a final squeeze in the gash as he did so. Even more blood dripped down his face. Andrew wiped his hands in his pants and picked up the ignored cigarette he’d dropped in the altercation. “You are going in circles. This is your last warning.”

“My mom nearly broke half the bones in my body trying to get rid of the memory of you.” Neil took his spot back up so close to Andrews face he could practically see every one of the pores in his face. He still had freckles scattered across his face, his skin soft, with faint acne scars here and there across his cheeks. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You should have.” Andrew threw his cigarette at Neil. “Make your choice. Run like you’re used to.” He looked him up and down one more time and turned on his feet back towards the club. Neil didn’t follow. He started to pick up the remnants of his past and he felt his nose ache in psychosomatic pain, remembering a nose-breaking punch his mother threw when Neil dared asked if they could stay. He spat again, still trying to get the salty taste out of his mouth. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold onto the shards of plastic evidence of who he used to. After picking them all up he had to stop, and sit down. He was afraid he was having a panic attack, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the drugs still ravishing his system, or if it was because of Andrew. Maybe it was both. It probably was. He didn’t think he could’ve spoken the truth if he wasn’t high, but God, if he were sober it would’ve been so much easier to run. High Neil was emotional Neil, empathetic Neil, hurt Neil. He’d only had the experience of being really, genuinely high a few times, and every single time just reminded him how much he hated the feeling of being out of control. Of his nerves, his feelings, every fibre in his being misfiring and doing the opposite to what he wanted. His brain was begging him to feel the chemicals it was pumping out, but all it did was amplifying the aching feeling in his chest. He let out a noise that didn’t quite resemble a cry, or a sigh, or a grunt. It was a noise born from pain, a mixture of anxiety and heartbreak, maybe. He wasn’t sure what that felt like. Maybe this was it.

He tried to steady his breath and he stumbled across the empty lot. The booming bass from the music at Eden’s practically shook the ground as he walked, at least, it sure felt like it did. He stumbled as he reached down to pick up the library card so carelessly thrown away. It hurt him even more looking at Stefan, feeling this pang in his stomach that wished things could’ve been different. He didn’t think he liked Andrew like that, and being on the same team was just the destruction of a childhood crush. Neil tried to come up with excuses in his head to how Andrew felt, but it was obvious he had thrown Stefan into the bad memories pile a long, long time ago. Neil showing up again just ripped through Andrew’s closure, and knowing he had feelings beneath what he showed, he was probably hurting too. It didn’t seem like it, but maybe he was. Neil had put the ID away, and looked around. He had no real idea where he was, or how to get home. Before he knew it, he was sprinting away from the club, going nowhere, going anywhere but there. His head wasn’t in a place to decide that he should stay. He’s worth it. His heart raced at the thought of Andrew’s face, looking down at the long unused library card. He’s worth it. Neil couldn’t look back. He was wondering what Andrew was telling the others, and if they would believe him. He wondered if he’d told Nicky about Neil’s Idontknow sexuality, and that’s why Nicky thought it okay to kiss him. But he didn’t feel anything with Nicky. He didn’t look at anyone in the way he looked at Andrew. He ran and ran and ran until he’d sweat out the drugs, until his head was more focused on trying to breathe than it was on Andrew, and his mom. It took a while, and he was lost when he stopped. Unfamiliar streets, him a stranger in someone else’s hometown. Maybe that made things worse. This feeling was too familiar. Lost, lost, lost. Sometimes lost became familiar, became home. He didn’t think he could be un-lost again.

-

Part 3

[tommyhollandaisesauce]

Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k idk how 

Posted: 11/19/2020

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.

Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.

A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!

When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.

Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.

It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.

Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.

So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.

Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.

“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.

“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.

You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.

“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.

“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”

Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”

You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.

The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.

The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.

You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?

“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”

“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.

A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.

Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.

“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.

“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.

“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“

“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”

He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.

The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.

The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.

However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.

When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.

You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.

“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.

“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”

“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”

“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”

At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.

Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.

“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.

Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.

Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.

Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and  sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.

He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.

“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.

“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”

“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.

Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.

Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.

He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?

“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.

“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.

“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?

“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”

Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.

“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.

“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”

The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.

Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.

You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.

You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.

“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.

“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.

After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.

He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.

“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.

You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.

“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.

“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.

"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.

"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."

"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."

"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.

“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.

“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”

Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.

Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"

Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?

“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.

“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.

You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”

“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”

-

A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something! 

Tags: @hollandprkr​ @itstaskeen​

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader 

changbin x reader | part three of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst for a lil bit woo

↬ warnings; talk of perinatal depression, cursing, n labor 

↬ notes; changbin babi 🥺  ALSO ITS CHANGBIN DAY WOOO ITS MY BABYS BDAYYYYY SO I HAD TO POST THIS |

u two had just freshly started an official, public relationship

ofc changbin was freaking out while he was chilling in the bathtub behind the curtain so u could pee on the test already

u two were looking at the line coming in, praying that there would be only o n e 😳

slowly the other line comes in, dark blue n clear alongside the other one

“holy fuck—“

“what do we do?” you asked, your voice wavering while setting the test back down

his hands cupped your face, giving u a soft kiss n hugging you

“we got this, we’re having a baby, baby!” he started to joke and yall burst out laughing while crying in the bathroom

the first few months were amazing

ur lil bump sprouted out n u two were so happy about it

changbin is just so attentive and excited about this pregnancy and his first born

u really couldn’t have been better with ur lil family that was starting to become realer with each day

u two r such bullies yall r like

“what happened? ur a softie now binnie!!”

n he’d say shit like, “well at least i don’t pee every hour on the clock!!”

he makes u cry one time n u use that against him everytime u want something bc he feels guilty >:)

cute lil things like asking the baby what they want to eat or talking to it before the bed

(changbin reads the baby goodnight moon one time and ur just so in love like wow 🥺)

he secretly talks to the baby when you sleep every night because hes waiting for when ur little bean will reply back with a kick or a hand

he is W H I P P E D for u n ur baby bump

nursery is already done at five months

he needs all of the boys to come over though to help him figure out the instructions 😳 these are co nfusi ngg

they notice how smiley n giggly he is when he talks about u two and looking at the finished crib hes just so proud

yall r so happy and content with ur baby that was an accident, but u guys are so happy this happened

but something changes within u

changbin notices your lack of interest in the pregnancy during ur sixth month

ur sleeping pattern was off n u would sleep for hours during the day and night

u were very irritable, not wanting changbin to cuddle with u or kiss u like he did everytime he came back from practice :(

u were always unhappy and always so moody, he just wanted u to be happy 🥺

he is so confused and worried ab u, some days ur not eating or some days u don’t even wake up in the mornings like u used to

sometimes— just sometimes he’d come back home to find u in the same spot, asleep

he’s so fucking scared when ur around seven months that he can’t hold it in anymore

“are—are you okay?” he questions u from the doorway, making u stop to look at him in the mirror

ur eyes were cold, setting down the towel u were drying ur hair with and leaving him by himself while heading into ur bedroom

“don’t you dare fucking walk away from me.”

ur s h oo k

he was really nice during the pregnancy everyday, super bubbly and kind so u were shocked to hear his upset tone

“i can and i will, i’ll just go sleep in another fuckin room.” u mumbled, changbin grabbing ur hands and turning u around to face him

u struggle for a bit while ur arguing with him and telling him to let go so u could go to sleep

“stop! i am your boyfriend, i am the only one who is going to care for you like this. i am the only one who is dying, seeing you like this. do you understand? we’ve been through seven months of this together, it was fine for awhile and now you’re fucking turning me away?”

hes shouting at this point, hes just so pissed after three months of not having answers and your attitudes and arguments, he cannot handle it

u start crying

hes quick to hold you, pulling u down to the bed so u don’t have to stand on ur tired feet anymore

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 🥺🥺🥺

he insists u two will find out n u both will get thru this rough patch together

perinatal depression, they diagnosed u

changbin is so upset when he hears the doctors tell u

everything is making sense to him and he’s just so heartbroken he didn’t put two and two together earlier

he takes time off for the time being to make sure ur taking care of urself

hes watching u like a hawk but trying not to make it evident

the first time u ask him for a kiss, he gives u dozens

he hadn't been asked for kisses in so long he was so relieved 🥺

he’s constantly telling u how beautiful u r and talking to ur bump about how they have the best genes and their uncles

this man is a father already it seems

he is ur #1 face mask partner cause he buys the cute ones only because u deserve the cute ones that r ur favorite ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

cooking together is something that happens, not often but every once in awhile he will let u do small things

cut up some lettuce? sure! pour in the soup broth? of course u can! taste test his food? always.

he wants to make sure ur comfortable with him touching u or kissing u or what hes saying

“i love you.” he’s mumbling, quickly placing a kiss against the fabric of one of his own shirts that was worn by u and fit u like a dress still

he then goes up to ur cheek n presses a kiss to it, ur hand cupping his jaw and letting him kiss ur lips >.<

also u guys let out a quiet talk of pregnancy to the public, letting jyp release a notice on changbin’s absence from live-streams and posts with the boys

u two received a lot of positive feedback which changbin let u read the positive ones n loved when u smiled at each one

u were overdue by a week which was the worst, ur back hurt and u had migraines

u also were put on bed-rest for the next week before u could be inducted

u guys waited out the week and u got scheduled for an induction

the labor was really slow which sucked because u just wanted to hold ur baby already :(

rly intimate moments like chan just holding u n rocking u like a baby

u guys are given this position to move the baby down, your knees on the ground so u could kneel against the bed and changbin would hold ur hips n rock them

he just feels so bad he can’t do anything to help u with the pain 🥺

yall kinda vibing with the hospital food (idk bout yall but some food from hospitals smack chile)

“i just want to go home.” :(

u bet ur ass he scoots into ur hospital bed, holding ur hands n u just cry into his shoulder

he feels like his heart is being torn to pieces when he listens to u cry out of pain

his free hands holds your jaw, making u look up at him

“we’re almost done baby, okay? i know it hurts, if i could i would take your pain in a heartbeat. you are incredibly strong and i’m so proud of you. you just need to hang in here for a few more hours, yeah? you think you can do that?”

u give him the weakest smile ever but its better than nothing

u reach 10cm!!!

now the part that wasn’t fun was the pushing :/

u were hurting, u were tired, and u had been promised almost seven times that all u need was one more push but no matter what, it seemed like the baby wasnt budging

“the cord is wrapped around the neck, we need you to stop pushing. okay?”

ur too tired and stopping the pushing sounded good so u did as they said but when they told u they needed to actually reach in and unwrap it ur blood ran cold

u both were worried about how much u could take

u screamed, god it hurt and it felt like hours of them twisting but it was a mere minute

the labor progressed n there it was

“a girl!”

u two are like faucets or waterfalls

shes literally the perfect mixture of u both 🥺

he washed her hair n helped wrap her up in a blanket, giving her over to u for the first time

u both were just in love with her, she was absolutely perfect

he’s obsessed with her, taking in that baby scent, the scent of the light baby shampoo and the bit of baby powder that lingered throughout her onesie

her hair wooooww its so soft n fluffy

her little baby pout and her puffy cheeks

i can see him calling her bunny for awhile as a childhood nickname

he’ll just be like

“oh that’s my bunny!!”

weird look from u but ur heart melts while he bounces her in his arms n gives her some kissies and running his fingers thru her hair

he’s also rly soft, i don’t see him singing but i see him definitely whispering to her about how she’s gonna grow up and have the best life because thats his little girl

“ur gonna have eight uncles, they are crazy but it’s okay. u definitely lucked out on fathers though, i’m pretty good at lullaby's. u did get great genes too, u have a handsome daddy and a gorgeous mommy. we worked really hard on making u, please don’t hurt ur cute little face. u also have a storm coming, there’s a thing called stays, they are gonna adore you, i promise.”

omgomgomgomg jejejejeje im blushing at the thought of this i just adore dad changbin 

u guys may or may not be planning for another but it definitely would happen in a few years

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[yioh]

Hey Yura! You've been reblogging posts on what looks really good wlw mangas lately and I'm dying for some good recommendations (especially since u have great taste🌸🌸)! Could you maybe list what you're reading (or watching) and what vibe each story has?

Hope you're having a great day and I'm sending lots of love your way!!!

hi hiii !!! sorry for taking so long to reply >_< i wanted to properly write an answer and then i .. never found time aaaaaaaa but here are my faves !!!!

relationship guidelines - this one is a manhwa about these 2 girls who have been friends since they were born !!! myeong in is aloof and rarely shows her emotions and is 'cold hearted' and ji won is cute and quirky and super flirty and overall a dumbass 101, somehow they find themselves kissing eachother and their relationship becomes ........ something they cant seem to understand themselves jsdhdkjh, i rly love this manhwa its so funny and so pretty and the characters r so fun and relatable its so lovely !!!! the pacing is so good too

not so shoujo love story - fellas this one . this one is SO good omfg its the funniest webtoon ever like the humour is just complete crack kldhkjh, its abt a 'delinquent' girl called rei who is in love w her senior (called ...ochinchin ... because... he has a massive chin..) and she rly rly wants ur typical shoujo style romance, only, plot twist the one whos in love w her isnt the cool popular senpai guy (who might be ??an alien??) but the perfect pretty vice president hanna !!!! its SO so cute also super slowburn and SO wholesome , also theres so much tension between hanna and rei i dshjsdhfh, the art style is GORGEOUS and the writing is amazing and i just . its a masterpiece pls read it, altho its hilarious its also ... so gentle and so loving i :')

she is still cute today - a slice of life abt wholesome puppy qi lin who is kinda an outcast and how she befriends a girl called cang shu, someone who prioritises her grades over everything else, to the point she barely has a life. its a story abt how they positively influence eachothers lives for the better and heal with eachother through their simple everyday school life(also mega mega mega slowburn, theyre friends rn but also ... gfs somehow lol)  :) its v funny ad cute and pretty also theres a bonus mlm side couple that r rly funny lol, they have a rly gay friendship group and its SO cute and wholesome 

tamen de gushi - i havent caught up w this in ages rip sdhjdsh but its just a cute slice of life abt 2 girls who befriend eachother and one of them has a HUGEEEEEE crush on the other, v v v v wholesome !!!!

still sick! - oh my god . this one is a masterpiece..... its a manga that revolves around shimizu, this super dorky girl that has a secret hobby of drawing doujinshi of her fave wlw ships lmao, and her work place colleague, maekawa, finds out about her secret hobby and barges into her everyday life and changes it in a way that she'll never expect ! from the synopsis it sounds p average but god the LAYERS this manga has . it deals w burn outs and love for drawings and has such wonderful characterisation and writing and the characters r so vibrant and fun and !!!!! the romance !!!!! they r so so so cute like i genuinely got butterflies at this kssdhkjdsh

soulmate - this manhua is so unique !! so its abt this girl who switches body w her teenage self, so she gets to experience falling in love with her lover all over again whilst her teenage self finds herself, 27 years old, and dating a girl ????!!! it deals with regret and first love and loneliness and dreams and just . i was v cautious abt this one because it could get weird but it was so beautiful and respectful and so .. melancholy and yet cute and joyful... the art is also so pretty !!!

bloom into you - this one’s an anime and its about a girl called yuu who believes she isn’t capable of falling in love even though she always longed to have that feeling, and then she meets her senpai, touko. somehow they get into a relationship where they brush hands and kiss secretly in the student council room after school and know all of eachothers secrets, touko tells her not to fall in love with her and yet yuu... doesn’t even understand her own feelings. ok as for vibes, its just TENDER tender TE n d er and . sad and it will make u so touch starved oh my god. its a very beautiful story and the soundtrack, colours and general vibe of the story is so nice and the characters r so freaking well written u will melt, i rly rly love this anime alot lmao its one of the very few romance anime i really adore, it doesn’t feel cringey at all and all the characters feel so painfully real ? its so good !!!!!!!!!!

that time I was blackmailed by the class’ green tea bitch - ok ok ik the title sounds wack but this is actually one of my faves rn, it’s just the softest cutest high school love story and it’s the perfect amount of funny and adorable and the art is also super cute and the relationship with the mc and her mum is so cute I’m 🥺 also it goes into other topics like academic pressure and loneliness (not too deeply tho) and it’s just a v good read … as of now it’s ongoing and has 17 chapters :)

i have some more i havent read yet :’) but these ones r 10/10 i hope u enjoy them !!! 

[chocosvt]

tea and dango

pic credit

⚬ pairing: ghost!jihoon x reader ⚬ word count: 996 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: plain fluff + uses prompt, “it’s two sugars, right?”

✧✎ synopsis: this is jihoon’s only night to spend with you, in the physical world that is, and you remind him of what it’s like to be alive. 

✧✎ a/n: this is for my valentine gram, taylor ( @gallivantingheart​ )!! i decided to use ghost!jihoon from my past fic, second life, bc he is so sweet and i cherish him! consider this drabble as fitting into the night that him and mc explore the town together, and mc shows him everything that’s changed! ik i’m posting this kinda late lmao but i am an Excessive Proofreader. enjoy!

Jihoon followed you down the sidewalk, keeping as close as possible with his fingers pinched tight into your jacket. Despite the lack of free-roaming people, he still felt a bit scared, exposed, like someone might be able to cast one look at him and convict that he was indeed a ghost. He couldn’t help but glance at his new clothes every few seconds to make sure they weren’t turning translucent, or that his hand hadn’t suddenly disappeared from his sleeve, leaving behind a horrifyingly empty air. Luckily, no such thing had happened.

This was his only night amongst an entire year he could leave his grave inside that closet. This was his only night to be with you in the physical world and experience the modernized changes he hadn’t gauged for nearly a century. It was easy to be led by you, because you knew each and every turn; all the stoplights, the park benches, water fountains and food stands—they were printed like a pocket-handy map to your memory. 

Suddenly, Jihoon slammed into your back.

You’d stopped, staring across the street at a line-up which had begun from a small dango shop sandwiched in between a laundry mat and a tattoo parlour. He saw you smile excitedly.

“Jihoon, sit here if you want,” you grasped his cold hand, pulling him toward a bench, “I’m going to run over there and stand in that dango line.” Pulling out a coin purse from your jacket, you started to rifle through your change, “I’m sure I can buy two dumpling sticks—three on each. Any thoughts?”

He sat down on the bench, leaning his face into his shoulder to wipe off an itch. How strange—he hadn’t gotten an itch since he was alive. So many sensations had escaped him since then.

“I don’t remember much about it,” Jihoon admitted, “but if you like it, I will probably like it too, I think.”

Jihoon watched you take your place in line. 

Dango… the word was slightly familiar to him. He tried to pull the moment forward as he shifted his eyes to the moon. Jihoon remembered something about a dango shop that his old best friend, Soonyoung, had taken him to during a vacation in Japan. There was a golden, sugary type of sauce that he could faintly taste. What stood out to him though was the obnoxious smacking sound Soonyoung would make when encasing his mouth around a whole dumpling. Jihoon shivered. He’d hated that sound.

Turning his head away from the dango shop, he found a comfortable light coming from the glass behind him—a tea house, not very busy, with only two visible people inside, a boy and a girl. They both seemed shy, fidgety, evasive of the other’s glance. A first date, Jihoon wondered.

He supposed that this autumn night, in a world that was living, breathing, and energized, could also be considered a first date, with you. 

The thought had Jihoon blushing. It made him feel kind of sick, but also heart-fluttery, and thrilled, and like he could run across the street right now to kiss you so everyone would know you proudly belonged to each other. He’d almost forgotten how love could pump you full of spontaneous, often unexplainable urges.

Jihoon grabbed a drifting paper square off the sidewalk and pulled out the pencil he’d moved from his aged clothes to his new ones. He observed the boy through the glass, watching all his actions, awkward gestures, how he shifted from the table and started looking at the menu behind the counter. Then, Jihoon held the paper against his knee and began to write.

“I’m back!”

About five minutes later, you were sitting next to Jihoon on the bench, your hand holding a napkin with two dumpling sticks coloured in pink, white and green. Both you and Jihoon ate quickly, sliding off each dumpling with your teeth, biting into its particular texture, tasting a mild sweetness. 

When Jihoon told you that he’d enjoyed the dango, the smile you gave him was warm and kind.

“Now I’m thirsty,” you mumbled, wiping the corner of your mouth and looking into the tea house, “looks like I have a few more coins. Maybe we can share a drink and take a walk.”

“I’ll buy it,” Jihoon said, already standing up.

“Really? ‘Kay then,” you answered, dumping out some coins into his palm. “There should be enough for a tip.”

You and Jihoon had walked into a quiet park. He couldn’t hear anything apart from your shoes shuffling through the wet leaves and the breeze that cooled with the hour. He’d let you drink the rest of the tea, which you just finished swallowing with a satisfied sigh.

“That was exactly how I like it! And I didn’t even—hey! What’s that?” You exclaimed, pointing at the paper square. He didn’t want to keep holding it, making himself more and more nervous.

“It’s… um, for you.”

With a surprised expression, you took the paper and unfolded it. Jihoon wasn’t sure if you were going to like it. He wasn’t sure if you were going to cackle or wince or flash him a very fake smile pretending to appreciate the poem. His skills weren’t going to be extremely polished considering he hadn’t written for a century. But maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe the love he’d poured into each line was enough.

Suddenly, you’d cupped his cheek and kissed it. 

He felt his cold, stiff heart start to pound. Without thinking, Jihoon put his hand around the back of your neck, bringing you in for a second kiss soft against each other’s lips. You positively tasted better than the dango.

He gets up from his seat And he seems to think What would my girlfriend like? A piece of cake or a drink? His eyes start to glow He clearly knows what to do So he brings back a tea for their table of two When she looks up, she smiles at the sight He starts to scratch his neck It was two sugars, right?

✧✎ a/n: AS I ANTICIPATED I HAD TO CUT SOME SENTENCES OUT BC I WOULD HAVE BEEN GLARING OVER THE 1K MARK. i guess i added a bit of a twist to how the prompt was delivered teehee. this was a nice challenge for me and i rly enjoyed adding onto this world!! i hope u like it taylor!