#i need to stop handwriting the text

[sirgawainofgalifrey]

This came to me in a vision. Chuckles the Echidna is not happy about his new nickname.

@year-of-the-echidna Chuckle

[mangooes]

Right here in my arms, tonight.

April 18th. The first birthday Sylus would spend with his beloved wife, (Name). Or so he thought.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of their bedroom, casting warm golden rays across the silk sheets. Sylus stirred, white lashes fluttering open. His arm reached out instinctively for the familiar warmth beside him—but found nothing.

His crimson eyes snapped open.

“...Sweetie, (Name)?” he called out, voice rough with sleep.

Nothing.

The sheets on her side were cold. She’d been gone for a while.

Frowning, he tossed the blanket off and stalked barefoot through the penthouse, silver hair tousled from sleep. The living room? Empty. Her home office? Empty. Staryus, their Husky, merely yawned lazily from his corner as if sensing his master's growing irritation.

Then he reached the kitchen.

There on the counter was a covered plate, steam still curling from the edges, carrying the mouth-watering scent of grilled scallops—his favorite. And next to it, a little handwritten note in familiar curly handwriting.

Happy Birthday, Sysy! I had to go out of town for something important. I’ll be back in two days. I promise. Love you.

He read it twice. Thrice. Then crumpled the note with a quiet exhale as it vanished into puffs of black and red mist, lips forming a tight, flat line.

From that moment on, his mood turned sour.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meetings became graveyards. Entire rooms fell silent when he entered. His answers were curt, clipped, and often laced with venom. When a new recruit accidentally spilled coffee near his files, the poor soul nearly passed out from the force of Sylus’s glare alone.

“Should’ve just executed me,” the recruit muttered as he fled.

Luke and Kieran, for once, didn’t dare tease him. They’d whispered behind closed doors:

“He’s been angry before... but this? This is another level.” “He’s scary when she’s not around... It’s like—like his entire vibe turns dark.” “We need the missus back, when is she going to finish prepping!??!”

And it was true.

He didn’t touch the scallops she had baked for him earlier. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t smile.

Not until that moment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late evening. The final meeting of the day wrapped up, the boardroom emptied like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Sylus strode out in his black red suit, one hand in his pocket, crimson eyes glowing under the dim corridor lights.

As he stepped out into the open lot where his custom matte-black bike was usually parked—he stopped short.

Someone was already sitting on it.

Wearing his jacket. Legs crossed like royalty. Her hair spilling from under the black helmet resting on her head.

Ah his (ehm everyone's) saviour is here!

Her eyes sparkled, mischief in every line of her smirk.

“Took you long enough, birthday boy.”

For a moment, Sylus just stared.

“…You said you’d be gone for two days.” “I lied.”

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“To throw you off.”

“Come again, kitten?”

“To surprise you.”

His jaw clenched, still suspicious, still raw with the sting of her absence. “I’ve been—”

“Angsty? Broody? Destroying the emotional well-being of everyone in your office?” (Name) cut in casually, then winked. “Luke texted me. Said they were ready to hold a funeral if your mood didn’t improve.”

He glared. “You planned this?”

She stood from the bike slowly, hips swaying, and gently tossed him the spare helmet. “I planned everything. Now shut up, birthday boy. You’ve got five seconds to hop on before I leave you here looking like a grumpy criminal boss with abandonment issues.”

He caught the helmet easily, one brow arched.

Then, he laughed. Just a quiet exhale through his nose at first, then deeper. It was rare. Beautiful. That dangerous grin curved his lips as he walked over and swung a leg over the bike behind her.

He wrapped both arms around her waist and leaned down to whisper near her ear.

“You're lucky I love you.”

She started the engine. “I know.”

They rode off into the night, the wind tangling their hair, the city lights blurring around them in a golden rush. She didn’t tell him where they were going, but it didn’t matter. She was with him. That was all he needed.

The engine’s hum died as (Name) gently parked the bike. She parked it near the trailhead leading into the national park that lay just outside the edges of N109’s steel cityscape. The mountain air was crisp, scented with wildflowers and pine. She swung one leg over the bike and dismounted with ease.

With a smug smile tugging at her lips, (Name) stepped forward and extended her hand toward him, palm up.

“Well, birthday boy?” she quipped. “Need a hand?”

Sylus raised a brow, letting out a low, amused hum. “My, my, the kitten’s grown claws. Are you planning to carry me next?”

“Oh please, I would have died carrying you all the way to our next spot,” she quipped back, wriggling her fingers at him.

He took her hand, letting her guide him off the bike as if he were fragile porcelain. The sarcasm in his crimson gaze was palpable, but so was the adoration. Once his feet hit the ground, he leaned in, whispering beside her ear, “You sure you aren’t secretly enjoying bossing me around?”

(Name) smirked, brushing past him with a sway of her hips. “Oh, I know I am.”

Their boots crunched against gravel and soft moss as they followed a winding trail deeper into the woods, beneath arches of blooming dogwoods and fairy lights strung between trees—like someone had plucked stars from the sky and tucked them among the branches. Sylus slowed his steps, his gaze scanning the lights, the ambiance, the effort.

And then—

There it was.

A full picnic setup nestled in the clearing: a large plush blanket spread across the grass surrounded by soft lanterns, flickering candlelight, and a low basket filled to the brim with containers and covered plates. Wildflowers encircled the space in a lazy oval, painted in pastels by the twilight.

Sylus stopped walking entirely, frozen in place like someone had hit pause on his body. (Name), without breaking stride, reached back and tugged his wrist forward.

“No words, Sysy?” she teased, dragging him with surprising strength. “You’re never speechless.”

Sylus didn’t ask how she planned all this. He didn’t need to.

She just knew.

He let himself be pulled into the heart of the scene, sinking onto the blanket beside her. His red eyes flicked toward her with something bordering between affection and disbelief. “You did all this… for me?”

“No,” (Name) said deadpan, pulling open the picnic basket. “For Staryus our husky. Obviously.”

“Ah, should’ve known.” Sylus chuckled, watching her lay out each dish with care. His favorite appetizers—baked escargot and pan seared foie gras. Her famous baked scallops, and a sinful lemon tart with red wine infused ice cream on the top, a glass of gin fizz, all waiting beneath a little domed glass plate.

The aroma hit him like a love spell.

He leaned back, propping himself on one elbow. “And here I thought I was the seductive one.”

“You still are,” (Name) replied with a wink. “But I’m not too bad at seducing either. Especially when I have food as a weapon.”

Sylus laughed—a warm, rich sound that sent butterflies flitting through her stomach. Then, predictably, he leaned forward, propped an elbow on his knee, and fixed her with his best dramatic expression.

“I think I’ve worked hard enough to deserve more than just food. Spoon me,” he declared with mock arrogance.

(Name) snorted. “You want me to feed you now?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, giving her the look she couldn’t refuse.

She sighed, dramatically, then scooped a bite of the scallops and held it up to him. “Open wide, Your Highness.”

Sylus narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slowly as if to take the bite—then darted out his tongue to flick the edge of the spoon instead, causing (Name) to jolt and nearly drop it.

“SYLUS.”

“Oops,” he said innocently, lips curling. “Slipped.”

“You’re such a brat—”

Before she could yank the spoon away, Sylus caught her wrist and gently guided it back to his mouth, this time taking the bite properly. He chewed slowly, sensually, just to mess with her.

“Mmm,” he moaned dramatically, licking his lips. “Made by the hands of my darling little wife. Full of love as always.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yet adorable,” he added, reaching out to brush a crumb from her cheek. “Admit it.”

(Name) swatted his hand away, but her grin betrayed her. “Maybe. A tiny bit.”

“Too sweet, but its tolerable.” he lied testing her waters, because he knew it tasted just how he likes it, perfect.

“Like me,” she teased.

He licked the frosting from her fingers, eyes low with heat. “I don't need to confirm it right now, do I?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They finished dinner slowly, laughter and flirting stretching across the night as the sky dimmed into starlight. Sylus leaned back after his last bite of lemon tart, stomach and heart both full.

Watching her with a quiet fondness. “(Name), kitten,” he said gently, the rare vulnerability in his voice making her glance over, “Thank you.”

She tilted her head, lips twitching into a soft smile. “For?”

“For this. For today. For being here with me,”

He replied.

Her chest tightened, and instead of replying, she reached over and ruffled his snow-white hair, giggling at the scowl that immediately followed.

“You’re so sappy today, Sysy.” “Birthday privilege,”

He said dryly.

Before she could escape, he pounced.

“SYLUS—!” she yelped, tumbling into a laughing mess as he tackled her into the soft field of datura flowers. They rolled together, tangled in laughter and limbs, until she ended up straddling him, flushed and breathless.

He was still grinning up at her, eyes gleaming with mischief.

His mischivious sweet kitten, ever the chaotic wife, plucked a datura bloom from beside them and tucked it behind Sylus’s ear, then added a second into his hair. The third bloom placed, laying on his chest.

“There,” she said smugly. “Now you’re the prettiest birthday boy in all of N109.”

He growled softly, reaching up and dragging her down until their noses brushed. “You’re asking for trouble, kitten.”

They both burst into laughter, falling side by side on the flower bed, gazing up at the stars. Silence stretched for a few moments, only the whisper of leaves and the distant hum of the city below.

A sudden streak of light crossed the sky—a shooting star, fast and fleeting.

(Name) gasped. “Quick, make a wish!”

Sylus didn’t take his eyes off her.

“I already have what I want, I just wish for it to last forever.”

Her breath caught. “Sylus…?”

He reached up, cradling her cheek with a gentleness that contradicted every terrifying rumor about him.

"Well if you insist on making me spell it out loud, it would be my pleasure," he continued.

His thumb brushed her skin, voice low and reverent.

“My wish is that you stay with me. Forever.”

Then he pulled her down gently, pressing a kiss to her lips—slow, deep, the kind of kiss that writes poetry into bones and carves devotion into stars.

“Happy birthday, Sylus,” she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head, as the icing on his birthday cake, a quiet confession.

“You being here is the only gift I ever wanted.”

The fairy lights danced around them. The datura flowers swayed, as the wind blew, carrying its petals away. The stars aligned—not in the sky, but in Sylus’s arms, where his world began and ended.

With (Name).

His wife, his kitten, his sweetie, his soul, his heart, all his. Always her. Always.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYLUS ASKJDNASKDANKDA this was the longest story scenario i had written in ages ?!?!?! i think this is like 2000 words or sum or what. This is my present for Sylus! Happy Birthday Sysy <3 Love u mwah (I legit stayed up till 12 just to sing him happy brthday)

[tikitakatia]

Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"Getting Caught In The Rain"

WC: 3.8k

Summary: Alexia’s trying again, but it only makes you realize that it’s been a long time since you felt like you were seen and understood.

Pt. 1

Alexia didn’t say anything when she got home. Just dropped her bag by the door, kicked her shoes off with the practiced heaviness of someone trying not to wake anyone up. Even though it was 5:42 p.m. and the hallway light was still on. You were in the kitchen, pretending to read, pretending to care about the last email from work, pretending you weren’t holding your breath for her footsteps.

She walked past you without a word, without eye contact, and you thought, same old story. The sting had dulled by now, like pressing on a bruise out of habit.

Until you heard her voice.

“You, uh… you moved the plant.”

You blinked at the book in your lap. Took a slow breath.

“Yeah.”

“It looks good there,” she added. You could hear the words straining. Trying to sound casual. Normal. Like conversation was still a thing that lived in this house.

You didn’t answer.

“I was thinking,” she tried again, stepping further into the room.

“Maybe we could get a new one for the windowsill? Something low-maintenance. Like… a cactus or whatever.”

A cactus.

You turned the page. “We already have one.”

“Oh,” she said, and you didn’t even need to look to know she was scratching the back of her neck. “Right.”

Silence stretched long and thin.

You looked up. She wasn’t looking at you, not directly, just sort of gesturing toward the counter with a weirdly shy motion.

“I saw this at the airport. Thought you might want it.”

That made your eyes flick up.

She stepped forward, sheepish. Like she didn’t quite know how to be here anymore. She held out a small paper bag, wrinkled from travel.

“It’s dumb. I just saw it and… yeah.”

You took it carefully, like it was a bomb that was about to explode in your face. Inside it was a snow globe.

Small. A little cheap. Inside, a tiny, glitter-dusted coastline and a red kayak.

You stared at it for a beat, then another, your fingers going loose around the base. It was the same coastline you’d kayaked on together four summers ago, the time she got sunburned and made you stop every ten minutes to reapply SPF like a paranoid grandma. The one trip you still couldn’t think about without smiling, even if everything after it had unraveled.

“I remembered it made you laugh,” she said, voice so quiet you almost missed it. “That trip.”

You ran your thumb over the plastic base. “You remember that?”

Alexia shrugged. “I think about it more than you’d think.”

Your chest twisted. Not in pain. Not relief either. Something more complicated, and heavy and unsure.

You didn’t say thank you. But you didn’t hand it back. And that was maybe the biggest thing you’d done all week.

That night, you left it on the kitchen counter. You didn’t know why. Maybe so she’d see you hadn’t ignored it. Maybe so you’d believe it was real.

And in the morning, she was gone again. Off to training. But there was a small plate waiting on the counter. French toast, your favorite marmalade, a halved orange with the rind scored for easy peeling. A mug of coffee with a splash of milk, and whipped cream in the shape of a heart like she used to do.

And a note, scribbled in her hurried handwriting:

Hope today’s kind to you, take care.

— A.

You stared at it for a long time.

Then sat down and ate the toast.

She was in Bilbao this time. Another away game. Another cold bed, another text that never came. The trinket still sat on the shelf, the whipped cream heart a fading memory. You didn’t know what you were supposed to feel. Grateful? Guilty? Hopeful?

So instead, you opened Chattr.

[go4goald2]: Important question: would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses.

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s 11pm and this is how you start???

[go4goald2]: You say that like it’s not the most vital debate of our generation

[lostinthecrowd]: I’d take the duck. 1v1. Eye contact. No mercy.

[go4goald2]: Bold. Disrespectful to the mini horses. But bold.

You laughed into your blanket, curled up on your side like a kid at a sleepover.

[lostinthecrowd]: They have tiny hooves. I’m not getting stomped to death by a barbie pony.

[go4goald2]: Tiny hooves, BIG ambition. Don’t underestimate ponies. They´re evil.

[lostinthecrowd]: I feel like there's a story behind this. Also can’t believe this is how I’m spending my night.

[go4goald2]: I can. And it’s perfect. Admit it.

You grinned. Tucked your phone closer like it was a secret you wanted to protect.

The conversation spiraled into weird snack combos, irrational childhood fears (yours: mascots, theirs: escalators), and an intense five-minute tangent on the politics of sock-and-sandal combos.

Your cheeks actually hurt from smiling. And somewhere between their rant about pineapple pizza and your confession that you once tried to cook pasta in a kettle, something softened inside you.

You typed, slower now:

[lostinthecrowd]: My partner did something nice for me today. Out of nowhere.

[go4goald2]: Whoa, plot twist. What kind of nice?

[lostinthecrowd]: Just… a small gift. Not flashy. Thoughtful.

[go4goald2]: You’re being suspiciously vague and I’m incredibly nosy. Spill.

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s tied to a memory. Something small, but really specific to us. A moment we shared years ago.

[go4goald2]: Okay wow. That kind of gift hits like a freight train.

[lostinthecrowd]: Yeah, it really did. Caught me completely off guard, I didn’t know how to react.

[go4goald2]: Because it reminded you what it used to feel like to be known?

[lostinthecrowd]: Exactly that. Like someone woke a part of me I forgot was still there.

[go4goald2]: Do you think it was intentional? Like… a real attempt?

[lostinthecrowd]: I want to think so, but then it just made everything feel more fragile.

[go4goald2]: It’s weird how one small thing can make your whole chest ache.

[lostinthecrowd]: It made me remember how much I miss her, or who she used to be. Or maybe who I used to be when we were still okay.

[go4goald2]: You still deserve those moments even if they’re rare. Even if they confuse the hell out of you.

[go4goald2]: And for what it’s worth… I'm really glad you told me.

You let your phone rest against your chest, pulse kicking up a little. It felt too good. Too soft. Too dangerous.

Because it wasn’t just that they cared. It was that they cared in real-time. Gave you space to unravel and didn’t shy away when the threads got messy.

Your lips tilted into a smile. Tiny, involuntary, like a reflex from some version of you that hadn’t been used in months.

Alexia hadn’t texted once. Not even after the match. Not even a “night.”

But this stranger had stayed up with you.

Held space for you.

Made you feel like a person instead of a ghost someone used to love.

And that flutter came back. Not a rush, just a flicker. A warmth that settled behind your ribs like the beginning of something.

You didn’t push it away.

But god, the guilt that followed.

You weren’t doing anything wrong. You told yourself that. Over and over.

But the truth was, your smile hadn’t looked like this in months.

And your wife hadn’t been the one to cause it.

You didn’t expect anything when you unlocked the door. Maybe a quiet hallway. The faint hum of the fridge. Your own footsteps echoing against the tile. It had become a rhythm now. Come home, drop your bag, exist in silence. You had stopped hoping to be greeted. Stopped wondering what mood she’d be in.

So when the smell hit you: sharp, burnt and unmistakably wrong, it made you pause mid-step. There was a bitter tang in the air, like overcooked garlic and something else. Something sour. A hint of lemon buried under the scent of a meal gone wrong.

You followed it to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.

Alexia was standing in the middle of it, barefoot, her hoodie sleeves rolled up, her hair pulled back in that messy twist she only did when she was stressed. There was a pan smoking on the stove. A cutting board covered in unevenly chopped herbs. The sink was full of pots. And her face, her face looked wrecked in the most human way.

She glanced up when she saw you, startled. “Shit. You’re home early.”

You weren’t.

You said nothing.

“I was trying to…” she gestured vaguely to the chaos around her.

“Dinner.”

You stepped further in. Looked at the pan. Something once resembling chicken was stuck to the bottom, blackened and curling at the edges like it was trying to leave the scene of the crime.

“It’s your favorite,” she added quickly. “That lemon-herb thing. The one I used to make after we went to the farmer’s market on Saturdays. Remember?”

You did. Back when the kitchen smelled like warm citrus and clean herbs, when she’d dance barefoot to whatever song was playing, bump your hip and kiss your neck while the chicken rested. That version of the dish smelled like comfort. This one smelled like frustration and something sour unraveling.

“Something went wrong with the sauce,” she mumbled. “Or maybe I forgot how to… I don’t know. I was trying.”

And god, she looked so small at that moment. Not physically, Alexia was never small, but emotionally. She looked like a little kid caught drawing on the walls, holding out sticky fingers and hoping it still counted for effort. It knocked something loose in your chest.

Your heart didn’t break. It cracked. Just a little.

You stepped in. Reached past her and turned off the burner before the fire alarm could make things worse.

“We can save it,” you said quietly, even though you knew it wasn’t true.

She stayed where she was, arms hanging a little helplessly at her sides while you opened the fridge and scanned for solutions. There was a half-used tub of ricotta, a jar of pesto, and some leftover stock. You pulled them out without speaking. It was easier this way, fixing things with your hands and not your voice.

“I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to cook tonight,” she said softly, somewhere behind you. “You’ve been working so much, and I wanted to do something.”

You kept your back to her. “You could’ve just asked me to cook with you.”

“I didn’t want to make you do more work.”

“I don’t want to feel like a guest in my own kitchen.”

There was a long pause. Then the quiet sound of her setting down a spoon.

You poured a little cream into the pan, scraping at the burnt edges while the sauce hissed and fought you. You could feel her watching you closely and carefully. Like if she stared hard enough, she’d understand how to fix it all.

She moved to stand beside you. Too close. Her arm brushed yours lightly, and you flinched. Not because you were scared. Just because you weren’t used to being touched anymore. Not by her. Not kindly. Not like this.

She froze. You saw it from the corner of your eye. Her shoulders tensed. The guilt bloomed across her face. But you didn’t say anything. And she didn’t try again.

Instead, she grabbed plates and set the table while you boiled pasta and tried to coax the ruined sauce into something edible. It wasn’t good. But it was something.

By the time you sat down, the steam had mostly settled. She watched you take a bite, searching your face for any kind of reaction. You chewed. Swallowed. Didn’t make a face.

“It’s fine,” you said.

And she smiled, almost like that was a win.

Not a real smile. But something tired and tentative. Something that said thank you for not hating me tonight.

The two of you sat in that dim kitchen, eating a salvaged dinner that tasted like memory and ash. And for a moment you could almost remember what it was like to share a life that didn’t feel so quiet.

Even if you didn’t trust it just yet.

You didn’t go to bed after dinner.

Alexia did though. She didn’t say it directly, but you saw the way her shoulders slumped after the dishes were done, the way her fingers lingered awkwardly near your elbow like she might touch you and thought better of it. She murmured something like “I’m gonna lie down”, then disappeared down the hall with slow footsteps and a closed door that didn’t quite latch.

You couldn’t follow her. You weren’t ready to share a space that intimate. Not yet. Maybe not ever again.

So instead, you took a half-full bottle of wine from the fridge, grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch, and slipped outside. The balcony used to be your favorite spot together. Just two chairs, some tangled fairy lights strung along the railing, the soft hum of the city below. You used to sit out there for hours, her legs tangled with yours, music playing low from your phone while she pointed out constellations she made up on the spot. There was always laughter. Always warmth. That soft, lived-in kind of love.

Now it was just cold metal and silence. One chair is empty. The lights were still up but never turned on. Like the memory of joy had been boxed up and left to fade in the wind.

You curled into the blanket, set the wine between your knees, and stared out at the city that didn’t notice you anymore. This was your nest now. Quiet. Still. Full of grief that didn’t ask for attention, just stayed perched and waiting.

And then, like muscle memory, you opened Chattr.

There was already a message waiting.

[go4goald2]: I tried tonight. Made an effort and still fucked it up.

You exhaled, soft and surprised. A strange flutter of recognition sparked in your chest.

[lostinthecrowd]: That’s more than a lot of people do.

[go4goald2]: Doesn’t feel like enough.

[lostinthecrowd]: What happened?

[go4goald2]: I wanted to do something good, something small. I thought it would matter, but all I did was remind her how long it’s been since I got it right.

You rested your chin on your knee, letting the blanket shift around your shoulders. The night air was cool against your skin.

[lostinthecrowd]: The effort counts even if it’s awkward and late.

[go4goald2]: I don’t know. Sometimes I think it just makes things worse. Like I pop back up trying to play house and she’s already rewritten her life without me in it.

You hesitated before responding.

[lostinthecrowd]: What made you pull away in the first place?

The reply didn’t come fast. A full minute passed. Then two. You thought maybe they’d closed the app.

But then the typing bubble appeared.

[go4goald2]: I got busy. I know it's not an excuse, but it started with wanting to give her everything and to make things easier. Pay the bills, say yes to every work gig and be someone she could be proud of.

[go4goald2]: But then it became… noise. So many meetings, late nights planning the next steps at work, connecting with investors and people wanting things from me all the time. Every time I came home, I felt like a shell. But she was still there, always waiting patiently. I didn’t know how to face her.

[go4goald2]: So I stopped showing up. Told myself I'd come back when I was less tired and more present. But I kept putting it off until it became normal to be gone.

You swallowed hard. Something about the rhythm of it, and the way they said “be someone she could be proud of” twisted in your chest.

[go4goald2]: And now I don't know how to come back. Not without her seeing everything I let fall apart.

[go4goald2]: I'm ashamed.

You stared at the screen.

Because how do you comfort someone whose regret sounds so familiar it might as well live in your house?

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s not too late, not if you mean it. Not if you’re willing to rebuild instead of rewind.

Another pause.

[go4goald2]: What if she doesn’t believe me anymore? What if I waited too long?

[lostinthecrowd]: Then show up anyway, consistency is louder than promises.

A breeze caught your hair, lifting it off your forehead. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, breathing through the weight in your ribs.

[go4goald2]: I want her to know I see her. Really see her. Not just when she’s upset, not just when she’s slipping away, but every day.

You didn’t respond right away.

Your thumbs hovered, useless, the words sitting heavy on your screen.

There was something about the way they phrased it, quiet and earnest. Like they meant it, even if they didn’t know how to say it out loud to the right person yet.

You sipped your wine and stared out over the city. The lights blurred softly against the dark, the breeze tugging gently at the frayed edges of the blanket in your lap.

You used to be seen like that. Or maybe you just liked to think you were.

You put your phone down for a second, face tipped to the sky, letting the silence settle where something like comfort should’ve been.

And when the tears came, they weren’t loud. Just slow. Private. The kind that don’t ask to be noticed. The kind you wipe away quickly, just in case someone walks out and asks if you’re okay.

But no one did.

The effort started showing up in little things.

Alexia folding the laundry before you got to it. Running to the store to pick up oat milk without being asked. Saying “Want to watch something?” instead of disappearing into the bedroom with her headphones and going on a call with her agent. She didn’t get it all right, she brought home the wrong brand of oat milk, folded the sheets inside out, and picked a movie you’d already seen twice. But she was trying. God, was she trying.

It wasn’t the kind of effort that made your heart swell. It made it ache. Because it felt like watching someone fumble through a routine they used to know by heart and now had to relearn from scratch.

On Wednesday night, she came home with takeout from that noodle place near your old apartment. The one you used to walk to in the middle of summer, sweaty and stupidly in love. She placed the bags on the counter like a peace offering and said, “Thought we could eat together tonight?”

You nodded. She brightened like it mattered.

She talked through most of dinner. Nothing serious. Just training, the new physio, the girl on the team who always forgot her cleats. You let her talk. Let her fill the space. She was trying to be light. Normal. Like maybe if she kept talking, she could talk you back into caring.

And for a second, you let her believe it was working.

After dinner, she hovered. You were rinsing dishes and she leaned against the counter, fingers tapping nervously against the edge. You knew that look. That “I want to say something but I’m scared of the words” look.

“I’ve been thinking…” she started, voice quiet. “About us. About how I’ve-”

Her phone buzzed. Loud. Jarring.

You saw the hesitation. The flicker of conflict.

But she answered it.

“Yeah?” she said, already walking toward the hallway. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got a minute.”

And just like that, the moment shattered.

You turned back to the sink, slowly rinsed out the last bowl. The water ran too hot, but you didn’t adjust it.

She didn’t come back in. You heard the bedroom door click closed a few minutes later.

The next night, she showed up with your favorite wine. The one you used to save for anniversaries or good news. She held it up like a trophy. “Got this on the way home. Figured we could split it and hang out a bit.”

You stared at the label. Something in your chest twisted.

“I can’t drink,” you said, keeping your voice even. “I’m on antibiotics.”

She blinked, thrown. “Oh. Since when?”

You shrugged. “Couple days. I’ve been sick.”

“Oh,” she said again.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but didn’t. Just set the bottle down and muttered something about putting it away for later.

You stood there for a moment after she walked off. Letting the silence settle over your shoulders like a too-heavy coat.

She hadn’t noticed.

You’d been in bed for two days. Tired, congested, barely eating. And she hadn’t noticed.

Not until you said it out loud.

Still. You weren’t made of stone.

There were moments where her effort chipped at something soft. The way she offered you tea that night without you asking. How she turned off the hallway light so it wouldn’t bother you when you tried to nap. How she lingered a little longer at the door when she left for training, like she wanted to say something.

But the thing that hurt most was how she still couldn’t say the one thing that mattered: I miss you.

She tried everything else. But not that.

Later, once the house had gone quiet and the wine sat untouched in the cabinet, you curled up on the couch with a blanket and opened Chattr.

[lostinthecrowd]: You ever feel like someone’s knocking, but it’s on the wrong door?

[go4goald2]: Jesus, yeah. All the time.

[go4goald2]: Weird coincidence… I always feel like I'm on the other side of that.

You smiled. A small one. Just for yourself. Sad. Quiet. The kind that doesn’t touch your mouth, only your chest.

[lostinthecrowd]: Someone brought me something today. Something they thought I'd love, but they didn’t realize I couldn't have it.

[go4goald2]: Ouch. That's… rough.

[lostinthecrowd]: Yeah, it’s like they remembered the old version of me. Not who I am now.

[go4goald2]: I get that. It's like when someone keeps reaching for the person they think you are, and you’re standing there, changed, wondering if they’ll ever notice.

[lostinthecrowd]: Exactly.

[go4goald2]: They probably meant well, doesn’t make it hurt less though.

[lostinthecrowd]: No. It doesn’t.

There was a beat of silence. Only the glow of your phone, the buzz of the city outside the balcony, and the heaviness in your chest that had nowhere else to go.

[go4goald2]: I think I want to want them again but I don't know if that’s the same thing as actually wanting them.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think that’s the loneliest kind of love.

The typing bubble appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.

[go4goald2]: What are you doing right now?

[lostinthecrowd]: Talking to you. Not sleeping. Being dramatic. The usual.

[go4goald2]: Good. Stay.

And so you did. Talking about nothing and everything. How certain smells always bring you back to childhood. How you hate the sound of ticking clocks. How lately, someone’s been trying to come back to you and you want to believe it matters. You really do. But there’s a part of you that keeps wondering if effort can still mean something after the silence has settled in too deep.

You didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. But you did. And they didn’t mind.

Alexia was down the hall. Lights off. Door closed.

You were somewhere else entirely.

Pt. 3

[bbokicidal]

"Good Luck, Babe." - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]

Notes : Part 2 to the "Are You Serious...?" mini-series where SKZ are walking red flags. Here is your comfort-not-comfort, because sometimes there are no happy endings and they don't redeem themselves.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, Breakups, Unhappy endings sorry not sorry. This is also rushed and I'm very tired but people wanted it so bad so here it is. <3

"Are You Serious...?" Hyung Line Here

BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities -> You leave when he isn't home.

It was two forty-three in the morning when he had texted you that he was leaving the studio, walking with his head down and eyeing his phone to see the little 'Read' message pop up. When it didn't come through after a few moments, he tucked his phone away with a soft sigh and continued on.

It was two fifty-eight when he texted you asking if you wanted anything from the convenience store. Again, no reply or read receipt, so he assumed you had fallen asleep and simply wouldn't reply. You were probably curled up in the sheets, hair messy and face puffy with slumber. The thought made him smile as he paid for his water.

It was five after three when he stepped into your apartment and locked the door behind him.

It was three thirteen when he stepped into the bedroom after washing his face, stopping in the doorway. Your nightstand was cleaned off and you weren't in the bed.

It was three fifteen when he picked up the sheet of white on your side of the bed to read over the scribbled and frantic handwriting, tear stains littering the paper.

'Don't bother falling in love again until you can get your priorities straight.'

It was three twenty-five when he messaged you once more, asking why you had decided to up and leave so suddenly.

And it was three twenty-five when the blocked receipt popped up on his screen.

Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself -> You remove yourself from the relationship while he is on tour.

If he didn't have the audacity (or BALLS.) to tell you he was going on a six month tour until the day before he left, he didn't deserve to know you were leaving the relationship at all.

You'd packed your bags full of your belongings, leaving gifts Minho had given you on your shared bed and leaving everything practically spotless The drawers were empty, the bed made and folded so neatly - the living room cleaned, carpet vacuumed, kitchen spotless and ready to be filled with cooking and shared laughter as hugs and kisses were exchanged.

The door fell shut softly behind you, the sound of your suitcase rolling down the hallway quietly echoing in the apartment before you grew too far away for it to recognize the sound any further.

Minho stepped into the apartment three months later, unlocking the door and letting it fall shut behind him. He stared into the emptiness that was his apartment, eyes dragging to your key sitting on the bare countertop. He breathes out slowly, pulling his mask down beneath his chin and letting his eyes wander over the quietness of the home.

He couldn't be upset. He knew he set himself up for this in the long run.

Even then, he couldn't stop himself from softly calling out your name - only to be met with no reply as he dreaded.

Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt -> You finally snap on him.

"Shut up! Just shut -- up!" You finally yell, bringing your hands down hard on the counter in front of you.

Your boyfriend stares over at you in surprise at your outburst. "What is your problem?" He huffs out, blinking a few times just to clear the shock from his face. "Don't start throwing a tantrum."

"This isn't a fucking tantrum, Changbin! This is me telling you to shut your mouth for once! I don't need this-- berating that you constantly give me. You don't know when to just shut up and it drives me crazy sometimes...! You tell me 'this doesn't look good,' or 'You talk too much,' or 'You're too loud.'"

"You ask me if you're too loud or if something looks good. Do you want me to lie to you?" His eyes narrow as if he's so obviously right that you are wrong.

You scoff, tears clinging to your lashes. "I ask you sometimes and yes, I do appreciate your honesty, but I don't always need your opinion, Changbin! It's like you -- use my appreciation of your honesty to just voice your negativity towards me now. You just say shit just to say it."

His lips part as if he wants to defend himself, but you cut him off by rounding the corner and beelining for your shared bedroom.

"If you can't learn to shut your fucking mouth, Bin, I don't know if we can keep this relationship up for much longer."

His eyes widen in surprise and he sinks where he stands, hand twitching on the countertop as if wanting to reach out to your retreating form. Had he messed up that badly all this time?

Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior -> You grow fed up with it and decide to break it off.

"What was that?" He snaps all too quickly, resting one hand on the door of the bathroom so no one else would enter. Even though there were.. multiple stalls.

"I was talking to someone, Hyunjin. It's called socializing. And surprise! Isn't it crazy someone is talking to me tonight?"

"Hongjoong? Talking to you..? He doesn't even know who you are -- Why would he?" His eyes narrow, offended already that you seem to insinuate something regarding him. "What are you trying to get at?"

You scoff, eyes rolling dramatically. A habit you'd picked up from him, unfortunately. "You never talk to me at afterparties because you're too busy being social with the other idols. I get that you should talk to them for press and to look good and whatever but Yeji isn't your girlfriend, Hyunjin - I am! You don't need to stand there all night ogling her and being smooth..!"

"At least if she were my girlfriend, my girlfriend would look fucking good for once."

Your jaw pops open as you stare up at him, fists clenching at your sides. You'd done your absolute best to dress as nice as possible tonight - granted yes, your makeup was smoked out and your hair was a bit messy from dancing but you'd been trying to enjoy yourself while your boyfriend stood at the bar talking to --

You feel a huff of air leave your throat before you pull open the door, ripping it out from under his hand where he leaned. He fumbled, glaring down at your retreating form. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Hongjoong." You reply, never bothering to turn around.

"Why? I'm talking to you now, isn't that what you wanted? My attention?" He moves to follow, stopping in the doorway when you do turn to glare up at him.

You seethe. "Quit worrying about why I'm talking to him, Hyunjin. Maybe you should worry yourself with wondering why you just lost your girlfriend instead."

He blinks, ears red with anger. "I don't want you talking to him--!"

"And I don't give a fuck, because you're not my boyfriend anymore!" You step back, lifting a hand to flip him the bird as you disappear into the crowd once more in search for the captain of Ateez. "Call me never, babe!"

[boofeine]

hiii can you pls do seventeen x grovelling? like what lengths would seventeen do just to get you back??? 😭

seventeen x grovelling

warnings: none! besides it's cliche and annoying but we love

seungcheol is the type to literally beg. he will show up to you, sulking and pouting, trying to convince you to get back to him on his knees for you. he's so whiny and desesparate, tugging on your legs and shirt like a dependent kid.

jeonghan knows all your schedules by heart, would not so innocently show up at the places you've been. his heart racing when he actually sees you there, approaching the cashier to buy your favorite food and asking to land it to you with a note of apology and love to you.

joshua is the type to come with flowers and chocolates, he'd even say he's writing a song for you so he can have you back. the roses in hand and the guitar wrapped around his shoulders.

junhui is cheesy but doesn't know what to do for you... he'd actually show up with a big plushie and heart air balloons, a stuttering speech that he had prepared and rehearsed beforehand.

soonyoung is in love and will let everyone know. he's the real deal, like screaming and crying like a desesparate man, hanging on any chance or any minor space you give him for some touch.

wonwoo is also the type to send you flowers. but will just leave it at your door, with a little note of his name, saying he misses you and needs you back. he will still try to convince you on a date.

jihoon have written way too many songs about you, doesn't think it will work to have you back. expect him to write you a big handwriting letter or a cd with all the songs, also the ones you haven't heard, or actually, he'll give both to you.

seokmin emotional side really shines here, he gets a bit sensitive thinking it was all his fault. he'd flood your phone with messages like "what went wrong?" "what did i do?" "i do anything to have you back" and yes... when the courage creeps through, he will definitely call you crying.

mingyu is gaining you back by the belly, like being for real, he's cooking you everything. delivering your favorite dishes by him at your door and making cookies with cheesy quotes.

minghao would actually come to talk, praying you'd consider. to hear everything you have to say and work on being better for you. he'd reply "i do anything to earn you back" so nonchalantly like it wasn't the craziest thing you've heard.

seungkwan definitely won't stop texting you. asking if you take your vitamins/pills, if you have eaten, and for that will send you delivery of your favorite foods to your work and home; "do you want me to go pick you up from work?" as if he's trying to sugarcoat you're still together or will.

vernon doesn't fool me, this man would cry, like cry until his nose is red, begging to have you back. he'd apologize for things he didn't do and more just not to sit with conformation. hear me out when i say this... he can't live without you.

chan is texting long texts, sending flowers, shouting on your window... i mean, haven't you seen wait mv?? the real hopeless romantic, he's just so desesparate to have you back, don't want to wait and waste time, he will tell you that.

[st7rnioioss]

https://www.tumblr.com/st7rnioioss/776664914080186368/could-you-maybe-write-a-little-fic-about?source=share

need a second part where she reads it

❛❛DEAR DIARY❜❜, PART TWO

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... sweetheart!reader x brothers bsf!matt

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... sweetheart!reader comes home to her diary, this time filled with an additional note to her fantasies about matt..

warnings... masturbation (f), mentions of fingering, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of kissing.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ you happily strutted up the front steps of your house, the morning sun still early and shining onto you, the air brisk and light. you fiddled with your keys before you finally got the right one, unlocking the door and letting yourself inside.

to your surprise, matt was standing almost right in the doorway, and if you hadn’t been so careful with your movements, he would’ve probably been bruising on his forehead by now.

“oh! hi matt,” you chirped, your face turning pink from how close he was, before you closed the door behind you, shyly waving at your brother who stood behind matt. matt's head was clouding up with thoughts. you were utterly oblivious to what he’d done just the night prior, nearly bouncing off the walls, being your usual sweet self.

matt smiled at you, in the middle of tying his shoes. “hey there,” his mind was already spinning with thoughts of you going back to your room, the one he’d been in just last night, and reading the stuff he’d written just last night. the thought made him shiver, watching as you bounced off after giving your brother a hug—for now he could only wait for a text to chime in from your contact name. you made your way to your room after saying a quick hi to your parents, letting go of all your stuff.

several hours passed, and your diary was still untouched. you lay flat on your back in your bed, your room now completely dark, besides the lamp on your bedside table illuminating the quiet room. you shifted, thoughts of matt naturally starting to stir in your mind again, so you sat up and reached for your diary like you would've done any other night like this one.

a tiny smile tugged on your lips, the pen twirling between your fingers as you excitedly brushed through the pages with a red tinge to your cheeks. but then, your heart nearly stopped when you saw the unfamiliar ink on paper, sinking to your stomach as all the blood drained from your face. you froze, the smile on your lips faltering immediately as shock rushed through your veins. what the hell? you immediately knew who had been sneaking into your room, let alone who had snooped in your diary. it was matt, you knew it.

you nearly couldn’t even make out the words, let alone comprehend what was going on, until you saw where you’d left off and he had continued. then the memories flood in, how you'd been sitting right where you were right now, thinking about matt until you just couldn't take it anymore, forgetting to finish the sentence. your breathing hitched as your fingers traced over the ink matt had left, as if you could still feel the desire he’d written with.

“i would kiss you down your chest, admire your body while i touch you after your sweet noises to get it right, my fingers sticky.”

oh god, you thought. your heart was racing, nearly thumping out of your chest as the words settled in your head, eager to read further while your thighs instinctively pressed together. there was no way. your thoughts started to wander, wondering what he would've done if you were actually home and not off to some sleepover. would he just have kissed you? or more? that was a thought for another time, right now you were way too enveloped in matt's handwriting in your diary.

“then i would let go of you and take off my own clothes, leaning over you to push my dick into you, listen to you gasp and moan.”

your fingers traced down your middle, eventually dipping under the elastic band of your sleep shorts, your panties next. you were already dripping, your body having an immediate reaction to the image of matt’s hands on you, how he’d loom over you while being oh so gentle with you. a needy whine slipped from your lips, your fingers working slow and steady circles on your sensitive clit as your eyes fell shut, imagining matt’s hand between your legs instead of your own.

you eventually opened your eyes to read more, your lips parted as needy sounds of pleasure were pulled from your mouth, careful not to be too loud, though everyone was asleep.

“i would take my time with you, wait until you allowed me to start fucking you, doing it gentle and slowly.”

another moan fell past your gritted teeth, easing your middle finger through your soppy walls, easily pressing it inside. the diary dropped from your hands, landing on the spot next to you just in reach for you to read, your other hand dipping under your shorts and panties too, circling your clit as you read and read.

you wished so bad that he was here right now, your now occupied hands being held firmly above your head, or even running through his dark locks. you wanted to feel your legs tremble around his body, not your own wrists, you wanted to feel his lips trail down your neck and chest, eventually sucking marks into your skin.

“i’d hold your hands, kiss you down your beautiful face and body, eventually going faster and harder.”

you had to bite down on your lip, nearly drawing blood from how hard you were trying not to moan when you eased another finger inside, your eyes drifting shut while your thoughts went wild and filthy, legs starting to tremble. your fingers were working overtime on your needy pussy, the soft squelch filling the empty and silent room, electricity shuddering through your body with every move and curls of your own fingers.

you imagined him pinning you down, your hands above your head with his fingers securely wrapped around your wrists, holding you in place while his other hand rested on your hip. you could almost feel how he would pound into you, gently but firmly thrusting his cock in and out of your slick hole, driving you both nuts.

it didn’t take long before you were a whimpering mess, your release coating your fingers until they were glistening, your bud swollen and sensitive. heavy breaths were panted past your lips, your hands coming back up from under your shorts while throwing your head back against a pillow, taking deep breaths. holy shit. you carefully picked up the book, reading over the last few words.

"you have no idea how bad i wanna sneak into your room every time i’m hanging out here. i’m not even here for your brother anymore.”

hastily, you grabbed your phone and found matt's contact, immediately shooting him short but inviting texts

you || 1:38 am

matt my window is open please

more sweetheart!reader x brothers bsf!matt here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... #need that

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[causenessus]

Dating Them. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, sugawara, kageyama, kuroo

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: i got carried away and gave them all a song but i can't help myself so if u want another one, loverboy by a-wall

word count: 3105 words

summary: "what does dating them look like?"

i love them all sm <3 hopefully these all make sense!! tysm to @luvring for sending me down a deep retrograde with rex orange county whom i almost chose to link a song to for everyone but then narrowed it down to just oikawa <3 also almost put in we & us for akaashi but freaked out 💃 pls check out this post by her that inspired me!! it was so sweet

akaashi

even if my heart stops beating you're the only thing i need with me even if the earth starts shaking you're the only thing worth taking even if the sky's on fire got you here, it's alright

looks like little gifts and notes left for each other everywhere

lunches made for the other left in lockers and on desks with little love notes <3

tell me he wouldn’t end every note to you with a little " ♡ ᵕ̈ " i dare you

you both handwrite the notes because texts are for losers

unless ofc one of you is out of town and you’re separated

then there are good morning and goodnight and i miss you texts

ending with ୧⍤⃝💐 and ᴖ̈ emojis

you both are very busy people so you just try to make sure the other is taken care of and knows they’re loved until you guys see each other again <3

dates are always lovely with him but the best part of them is when you guys get to go home

when it’s late at night and one of you is between the legs of the other, laying against their chest as you both do your individual things or something together

since life is so hectic it’s nice to just have these quiet moments in each other's presence <3 all he needs is to be around you and he doesn’t need anything else

there's definitely so many intimate and domestic moments with him

getting home from games used to be one of the worst parts of playing volleyball but you’ve made him look forward to it 

he loves to call or text you on the way home <3

if you’re able to stay at his house and be there when he gets home even better !!

you’re always taking care of him, making him something to eat or cleaning him up <3

how you guys started getting interested in each other?

I think at first sight you were curious about each other but one specific interaction sealed the deal <3

akaashi for sure knows so many random facts and how things work and most of the time when bokuto says something, it’s incorrect and akaashi will correct him <3

one afternoon when you three were together, bokuto was rambling about something he thought was impossible and threw a look towards akaashi, “and i don’t want to hear a ‘well, actually’ from you, there’s no way i'm wrong. if we're building things on earth that means more stuff on it and so it's getting heavier.”

akaashi only smiled, looking at his fingers as he played with them, “yes, but everything we're making those buildings out of already existed on the earth prior to–”

bokuto groaned, hands in his hair as he bent over, “no way! you know too much akaashi, I don’t even know if that’s a good thing or not” 

you let out a small laugh at the exchange. you wanted to add something but your chest tightened with anxiety, fearing that it would reveal how you truly felt. however, it slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, “i actually like it, i think it’s really cool that you know so much, akaashi-san. i admire it.”

bokuto, still bent with his arms on his legs immediately turned his head towards you with sharp eyes and brows raised, a teasing smile on his face

akaashi, on the other hand, had turned slightly red, his lips stuck between wanting to smile and trying to play off the compliment as if it hadn’t made his heart stop for a second

you’re cheeks had also warmed, realizing that if bokuto immediately got it through his thick skull (with love ♡) there was no way akaashi hadn’t

since he’s quiet by nature, the sweetest thing for him is someone who will really listen to what he has to say and the fact that you found it interesting just topped it all off <3

bokuto

sweet talk everything you say it sounds like  sweet talk to my ears

looks like seeing each other in the halls and he brightens up, the world literally getting brighter as he sees you and he can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across his face <3

i think what he really needs is someone that matches his energy. you might be a little calmer than him due to the fact that you’re not jumping up and down but you’re just as happy, a smile wide on your face, eyes wide and you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him as well

if you are able to, you always come to his matches and it makes a difference in his playing <3

ofc before dating he was just as amazing as a player but now that he gets to see you while doing what he loves, there’s so much energy and happiness that wells up in him he ends up jumping higher and being more vocal

without a doubt he’s always looking up to you in the stands before every rally

it makes your heart stir, too, whenever he makes eye contact with you and you can’t help but smile and cheer with all the love in the world whenever you both meet eyes

whenever he’s home from a match, you bet that he’s heading to you as soon as possible if you allow him to

loves to collapse on you, strong arms wrapped around your waist and he rests his head on your stomach, body between your legs

will fall asleep so fast if you run your hands through his hair, loves it if you just comb through it from the front, pushing it back as they slide to the back of his head and then move back to the front to run through the strands again

even better if you talk to him as you love on him while he’s resting on you

hugs you tighter when you praise him, letting out a small sigh as he relaxes

“you did so well today, kou. ‘m so proud of you,” you hum.

“you mean it, baby?” he mumbles, face still buried into your shirt.

“i mean it. i would never miss any of your games if i can help it for the world, love.”

the last thing he can get out is an “i love you so much" before his eyes fall shut

oikawa

girl, if you want it there’s no good reason not to love if you want it

looks like keeping him company even when it’s three in the morning <3

he’ll hold you close or have you on his lap, arms wrapped around you when he’s up at night watching other team’s volleyball matches

loves to talk you through the plays as well if you have any questions

will take the time to pause the video and point out anything <3

“see what they did here? they purposely left an opening in the block for the libero to cover. it corners the spiker either way,” he spoke softly, a small smile on his face as he explains the tactic to you.

“i think i understand. you guys have done that before too, right?” you nod, eyes focused on the screen as you lean to the side, resting your head on his shoulder

he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, “we have, pretty. i didn’t think you paid so much attention.”

“of course i do!” you pouted, tilting your head to look slightly on him. 

he met your eyes with a teasing smile, “i’m only joking, princess. i see how hard you focus, you look super cute when you do, after all.”

you buried your face into his shoulder, too red to keep looking at him

you’re definitely a part of his squad (iwa, makki, matsu) even if you’re a grade below them

if you didn't already know them, he also definitely introduced you to the group as “his girl”

from then on out, you had four scary guard dogs should you ever need them <3

he’s glad to have someone so close to him that also gets along with his friends, so he’s happy as can be when you’re all hanging out

ofc also enjoys one on one time with u as seen above

after matches, you’re always loving on him, whether he won or lost

if he won, similar to bokuto, you’re praising him the whole way, pressing kisses to his forehead as he lays on you, completely content as he rests

if he lost, there’s no words exchanged between you two until he’s ready. it’s not that words will lead to anything bad, but you know what will help him. you know that for him, he’ll recover with time. after he’s thought about it, he’ll express all his feelings and emotions to you, so you only need to wait for him to be ready. in the meantime, you’ll love on him and make sure he takes care of himself. you’ll stay with him so that he knows he’s not alone and when he’s ready, you caress his face, softly wiping his eyes whenever they tear up and listen to anything he wants to say <3

iwaizumi

my baby here on earth showed me what my heart was worth so when it comes to be my turn could you shine it down here for her?

looks like giving you gifts everytime he sees you

probably actually started with you giving him gifts all the time first <3

def friends to lovers i can see it

when you started giving him gifts, it stirred something inside of him and his friends kept telling him that you definitely liked him back

he was still unsure tho bc we’re talking a man with a whole fan club and two other men who have nothing better to do but tease other people so how trustworthy is their advice really

but he wanted to be hopeful so he started getting you things too (credit to makki & matsu, best wingmen)

because your relationship with iwa was 100% friends to lovers, said wingmen + whatever oikawa is definitely supported you both and were trying to play cupid

makki and matsu helped iwa find out what you liked without making it obvious and since he was too nervous to ask you on his own

also tried to inconspicuously ask if you were interested in anyone in which you immediately turned red and hid your face

the two boys turned to each other with a smirk because they knew they were definitely right

they probably got you to plan a confession to iwa, swearing on their lives that iwa liked you back

(makki and co. also definitely found a way to listen to it all go down and probably even recorded it)

as soon as you guys start dating he’s all over you <3 probably beats you to buying something most of the time but you still try to buy him things as often as you can

i think he’d adore flowers from you <3 they’re some of the sweetest things you can get them

mad dog respects you as an extent of his respect of iwa

definitely lots of words of affirmation in your relationship too

after the spring high semifinals you were in his lap, letting him hide his face in the crook of your neck as his whole body shook

you rubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other placed on one of his arms which were wrapped around you,

“i just want you to know how proud i am of you, hajime. i could hear you everytime you brought up your team. you did so well. you taught them so much. you’re so observant, you’re so strong. i couldn’t be more proud of you, love.”

he tightened his hold on you, and you felt his tears on your neck. “i know. i know it hurts a lot, baby. i’m here for you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.

sugawara

she said i dressed in your favorite  i bought two bottles of red unless you made reservations oh look, you thought all ahead

looks like mothering his flock of children with him and taking care of him after he has taken care of the rest <3

lots of resting on each other’s shoulders throughout the day bc you both are so tired

whenever you guys are on dates, his favorite parts are always the train ride back home, he loves the gentle rocking of the train that lulls you both to sleep as you lay on each other, there’s just something so safe and intimate about it

ofc he loves doing things with you and you both try to spoil each other rotten, surprising each other with gifts and dates

some of your favorite dates to go on are just walks around outside

you guys take turns finding different locations to travel to just so that you guys can admire the beauty together

can u imagine? two pretty people walking around in pretty nature?? it’s too much <3

he loves walking in the winter at night because most of the time you guys will get to see pretty lights too!!

and if u get cold he gets to give u his jacket so two birds w/ one stone

if he’s feeling generous he’ll invite one of the children to walk with you guys while looking at christmas lights

it’s different every time

one night it was hinata, bundled warm in jackets and bouncing around between you and suga

another night it was kageyama, as calm and collected as ever but he enjoyed looking at the lights with you guys

you definitely bought him hot chocolate bc you couldn’t handle the parental love bubbling in your heart for the boy

(mama y papa?--)

but you both were def alone on christmas night when he took you out to walk in the middle of the city, where pretty lights shined at every angle and in every direction <3

he can’t help but kiss you a lot whenever he sees your pretty lips

and you love to kiss his little beauty mark below his eye <3

whenever he’s playing in games, you’re always cheering the loudest

afterwards you’re always flooding him with compliments too once you’re both home or through text message if he’s on the bus ride back

“u always notice so much during matches!! whenever u get in you always have something to tell everyone it’s so cool :000”

“and when you spiked, love, you did so good. we were all freaking out in the stands bc you had just been shut down before and you still went through with it completely!!!”

he'll smile at your energetic messages before replying with his own,

“thank u thank u <3 i can only do so well because i have my own personal cheerleader”

“I’ll see you soon, ok? we’re almost back to school, i love you so much, angel”

if his teammates hadn't drilled it into his head already how much he meant to them, your messages alone would make it worth it <3

kageyama

i wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind... can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?

looks like dates to the milk vending machine and walking together around school <3

he’s already waiting outside your class during breaks and when lunch starts

you step through the door and jump when you see him

“tobio? how are you already here? class just ended?”

“...do you wanna go to the vending machines with me?”

“did you leave early?”

he averts his eyes immediately, trying to think of an excuse but you just sigh to yourself and start to walk, “what am i going to do with you? let’s go before class starts.”

“i wanted to see you,” he mumbles, eyes lowered to the floor and his cheeks dusted pink as he follows after you

your eyes widen at the response and you almost trip over your feet before you smile and lean closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek

“i love you too, tobio.”

he’s another boy you’re constantly fighting with to pay for things

sometimes you’re racing to the machine because you’re so desperate to buy him something but there’s no way you’re winning against him even if he gives you a headstart

you work hard to take care of him, though, and you have your ways of getting back at him even if he ends up paying at the vending machine

he’s so horrible at taking care of himself, especially with the amount of times he stays late to practice with hinata

you started to sneak milk cartons and eventually meals into his bags so that he’ll at least be fed

definitely lots of study dates between you both as well, you’re singlehandedly carrying his grades rn

but it’s worth it when you see him on the court <3

he tends to look at you before every serve, and you can feel your heart buzz whenever he makes eye contact with you

seeing him work so hard in volleyball and have so much fun, you can’t help but fall in love with him all over again, and you’ll do anything you can to help him and make sure he can achieve his dreams <3

kuroo

you wanna go out, i wanna finish living you wanna get up, when i could just lay all day, with you

looks like showing up at your door whenever he feels like it either to take you out or to be at home with you <3

after the first time he insisted that he walk you home and you let him, he started visiting you more often

ofc you let him in everytime, you were glad he was the one making moves because you wanted to be around him more, you just didn’t know what to say

when you both started officially dating, you also obviously put in more effort to show that you appreciate him and love to be with him

but he’s always more than happy to be the one to come to you as long as he knows you enjoy it as much as he does

speaking of which he’d really do anything for you

if he’s not already there, you could ask him to at two in the morning and he’d be there as soon as he could <3

especially if you text him something like “i had a nightmare” or “i can’t sleep” he’s over there in a blink of an eye

“alright, princess. are we staying up or should i tire you out?”

🧍

😳

anyway

he’s making any excuse to be close to you

he’s probably helped you in a few subjects if you were struggling with the material

ofc in exchange for kisses <3

he’s surprised when you come to his games, i feel like he’s probably not used to having a lot of people come to cheer him on and he doesn’t want to bother you about having to come to gymnasiums to watch him

but you come of your own free will and it makes him smile, he’s more than ready to crush his opponents to show off for you <3

after games, you’re throwing yourself into his arms as soon as you get to him and he’ll catch you with just as much adrenaline and excitement running through his veins at the sight of you <3

[rninies]

✮ drunken confessions

౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, fem!reader, nicknames (princess and sweetheart), mentions of alcohol, drunk reader — wc: 791

notes. my choso fic is never gonna finish (start) because i keep writing for gojo wtf

“toruu.” you slur, arms wrapped around his neck as satoru carry you on his back. your breath smells like alcohol due to you drinking two glasses of wine — you’re a lightweight, but that doesn’t stop you from having fun with your friends. satoru had been called prior to the party, your friends knowing that you would need his help getting back home.

“hm?” satoru hums. “what is it?”

“you have such a cute face,” you confess, your hands clumsily squishing his cheeks — satoru gasps as your cold hands touch his cheeks. “just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”

satoru laughs. “really? you think i’m cute?”

“mhm,” you reply, eyes drooping. “you’re the cutest man i have ever met.” instead of replying, satoru stays silent, finally realizing that you had indirectly confessed your feelings for him. “i always look forward to meeting you…”

“i do too, princess.” satoru replies softly. when you don’t respond, he knows you have fallen asleep, finally giving in to your drowsiness. he sighs, smiling to himself — he knows he’ll be teasing you about this tomorrow, and if you don’t remember a single thing from tonight, he will make sure you remember.

you wake up to an intense headache the next morning. groaning, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the pain though it doesn’t help. you don’t remember much about yesterday, only remembering that your friends had asked you to come hang out with them. you remember satoru coming to the club but after that, you don’t remember anything else.

scanning the room, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary, only a glass of water next to your bedside table with a small sticky note right next to it. you grab the sticky note, reading ‘text me when u wake up plz’ in satoru’s handwriting. confused, you grab your phone and write a quick text to satoru.

in ten minutes, you hear a knock on your door, already expecting it to be satoru. “i’m letting myself in! you don’t mind, do you?” satoru asks, already inside your home without waiting for you to reply.

“you do that every day, you don’t have to ask,” you reply, walking down the stairs. satoru is wearing a white t-shirt with shorts (you can’t help but stare because how can someone wear something so casual but still look so good?). clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. “why did you ask me to text you?” you ask, showing satoru the note he wrote.

“oh,” he sighs. “do you remember anything from last night? anything at all?”

“um, i do remember going to the club with my friends. you were there too… other than that i don’t remember anything else.” you reply. “why?” satoru looks disappointed, and you wonder if you have said something wrong. he suddenly walks up to you before turning you around. “what are you doing?”

satoru suddenly squishes your cheeks from behind, repeating your words from last night. “you have such a cute face. just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”

all the memories from last night flooded back into your head, remembering everything that happened between you and satoru. your eyes widen, cheeks turning red. “you-!” you turn your head, eyes meeting satoru.

satoru smiles. “do you remember now?”

“i can’t-” you look away, can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “i can’t believe you remember that.”

“i couldn’t sleep last night because you confessed to me and you expect me to forget about it?” satoru asks in disbelief, turning you around so he can see you better. “you’re asking the impossible here, sweetheart.”

“sweet-” you choked on your spit. “what?”

“what?” satoru asks innocently. “am i not allowed to call you that? i thought we were dating now?”

“we- huh?!” you exclaim. “we are?!”

“oh,” satoru takes your hand in his. “would you like to go out with me?” he looks at you, a big smile on his face. you open your mouth to respond but no words come out of your mouth. your mind goes blank when you see satoru’s smile, the only thing in your mind being how cute he is. “if you’re not going to say anything i’m going to assume it’s a yes and you do want to go out with me.”

“was me confessing yesterday not enough?” you blurt out, crossing your arms. “yes, i would like to go out with you, idiot.”

“that’s better.” satoru says, kissing your forehead. “well then!” he claps his hands. “go get ready. i want to take you somewhere today.”

“wha- now?” you ask. satoru nods, pushing you up the stairs. “but-”

“no buts! you agreed to be my girlfriend so you better be prepared for surprise dates!”

taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul @iminlovewqr0w (send an ask to be added!) <3

[octaviusing]

Feeding my new fixation on the ford joins bill AU I made

The text is a lil hard to read so I added the text below too ^.^

My new Identity?

10 years dimension hopping. 10 years on the run and I couldnt do it anymore. I found him in his adopted home of the nightmare Realm. I needed to confront him about everything. Including that damnm tattoo. We made a deal, I stay by his side and he Stays away from Dimension 46'\. My Home.

Surprisingly, I am somewhat enjoying myself, Now that I know my dimension is safe I can relax.

Bill Insisted I stop dressing like "a Basement dwellers cyberpunk self insert." whatever that means. So he has been dressing me.

My face is Hidden which I feel is unnecessary. However I do blend in better within he nightmare realm now.

That mug is just for me IQ

I will admit. My hubris hadn't allowed me to consider it said anything other than what I had originally been led to believe.

Finally got the Translation. "if lost, return to Bill"

Like I'm some Kind of Rogue Pet.

Sweet that you thought it said Earths Chosen one But those arent words id willingly put on anyone Sixer

Prolonged Exposure to his sight has turned my fingertips into shadow. No fingerprints either.

Always in his sights

What an improvement right! I think you look great. Blending right in with my freaks now

Ive been his ticket into alternative third dimensions, Keeping him contained to my body whilst also being able to leave the nightmare realm.

Amazing fonts of their handwriting by triangleguy and tsunamiholmes (both on tumblr)

Also here’s Original post I made about it >.<

https://www.tumblr.com/octaviusing/760332908671188992/consumed-by-thoughts-so-bear-with-me-ford-who-fell

[swappedandtrapped]

Swapping Research - Part 2

Read part 1 here Read part 3 here

The first shower was the worst. Marcus stood frozen in Tyler's bathroom, avoiding the mirror, peeling off unfamiliar workout clothes from an unfamiliar sweaty body. The smell, a mix of cheap deodorant and Tyler's sweat, was inescapable. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he stepped under the water, trying to ignore the strange dimensions of his new form. Longer legs, broader shoulders, muscles that shifted differently beneath the skin.

Impossible not to touch, though. Impossible not to feel. Every movement reminded him he was piloting someone else's flesh. Soaping Tyler's body almost felt like touching someone else with all that thick hair and unfamiliar mass.

After, he studied Tyler's face in the mirror (the slight chip in the front tooth, the stubble that grew…). He tried a smile and flinched at how wrong it looked, how the expressions didn't match the musculature.

He wanted to believe that from looking behind Tyler's eyes you could still tell it was Marcus in the pilot seat. But those eye resembled nothing other than Tyler's Brown eyes.

His phone, Tyler's phone, buzzed with notifications. Basketball practice in an hour. A text from someone named Jas with just a winky face. Three missed calls from "Dad."

"Shit," Marcus muttered, the curse sounding natural in Tyler's voice. His own parents emailed weekly for updates. Tyler's father seemed to be calling multiple times daily.

The phone rang again. Dad.

"Hey," Marcus answered cautiously.

"You watch the Gonzaga vid I sent? Their defense has that weak spot on the baseline when they double-team. You need to exploit that tomorrow."

"Uh, yeah. I saw that."

"Don't 'uh yeah' me. This is your future, Tyler. Those scouts won't come back if you play like you did last time."

Marcus held the phone away from his ear, understanding blooming about Tyler's desperate academic measures.

"I'll work on it," Marcus said.

A heavy sigh. "Just don't throw away everything we've built."

---

In Organic Chemistry, Marcus was caught off-guard when he saw Tyler sitting at his desk. Realizing what he needs to do, he sat at Tyler's assigned desk, hyperaware of how differently people treated this body. Girls smiled, guys nodded in recognition. The professor barely glanced at him. The invisibility Marcus had as a serious student was replaced by a strange social spotlight that felt simultaneously flattering and exhausting.

The professor started the exam. Marcus began working through complex molecular mechanisms with ease. Tyler's hand felt clumsy gripping the pencil, but the knowledge remained intact, for now. He finished early and noticed people glancing at him with surprise.

Outside after the test, a teammate clapped him on the shoulder. "Yo, Reeves, we're grabbing lunch before practice. You coming?"

The old Marcus would have declined, retreated to the library. But something in Tyler's body responded differently. A pull toward social connection, a need for movement and interaction rather than quiet study.

"Yeah," he heard himself say. "I'll come."

---

Later on, Tyler sat in Marcus's Advanced Physiology class, experiencing an entirely different reality. For the first time in his life, the professor's words didn't scramble in his mind. He took notes, each letter staying exactly where he placed it on the page. He raised his hand to answer questions, the information flowing effortlessly.

The professor stopped him after class. "Excellent contributions today, Marcus. That connection was insightful."

Tyler felt a rush of pleasure he never knew he could have. "Thank you, sir."

In the library afterward, Tyler opened Marcus's planner and studied the color-coded schedule. Med school interview prep sessions. Study blocks. A family video call on Sunday. He ran his fingers over the neat handwriting, experiencing the peculiar sensation of being organized from the outside in, rather than constantly fighting his own brain.

He took out his phone, Marcus's phone, and called Alex.

"Any adverse effects?" she answered without greeting.

"It's incredible," Tyler whispered. "I can read anything. First try. No reversals, no swimming words. Alex, I never knew it could be like this."

"The transfer is temporary," she reminded him. "Don't get too attached."

Tyler touched the textbook in front of him, the words remaining stable on the page. "Yeah," he said. "Temporary."

He hung up and noticed Marcus had scheduled a meeting with his academic advisor for tomorrow. Tyler had his own advisor meeting—one that would determine his academic probation status.

After a moment's hesitation, he rescheduled both to a later date.

---

Basketball practice was a nightmare. Marcus had played casually in high school, but navigating a collegiate practice in Tyler's body was like being thrown into a professional orchestration with no knowledge of the music.

"Reeves! Where's your head today?" Coach Barrett shouted when Marcus missed an obvious pass. "Run it again!"

The team's offensive sequence required multiple cuts and screens that Marcus couldn't anticipate. Tyler's body knew where to go. He could feel the muscle memory trying to take over. But his conscious mind couldn't surrender control.

Most disturbing was the pain in Tyler's right knee, a persistent ache that worsened with each cut and jump. In the locker room afterward, Marcus discovered a carefully hidden brace and prescription anti-inflammatories in Tyler's bag.

Tyler had never mentioned any injury.

---

Three days had passed. Marcus paced Tyler's apartment, anxiety building. The 24-hour deadline had come and gone with Tyler making excuses: Alex needed more data, one more day would help their understanding, the neural pathways needed to stabilize.

Worse than the delay was how Marcus's sense of self had begun to blur. He'd catch himself speaking with Tyler's inflections, laughing at jokes he normally wouldn't understand, craving foods Tyler's body was accustomed to. Last night he'd dreamed in Tyler's memories—fractured images of a childhood basketball court and a father shouting at him.

His phone buzzed. A text from Alex: Meet at lab at 7.

When Marcus arrived, Tyler was already there, wearing Marcus's body like he'd been born to it. The sight still caused a visceral wrongness, watching his body move with someone else's mannerisms.

"You missed another check-in," Marcus said. "And you canceled my medical school interview prep session."

"Rescheduled," Tyler corrected, sitting with a straight-backed posture Marcus recognized as his own. "This was more important. Alex is seeing unprecedented neural adaptation. Our minds are actually reshaping our borrowed brains."

"That's not comforting," Marcus snapped. "We had an agreement. Twenty-four hours."

"I needed more time," Tyler said quietly. "You don't understand what this is like for me."

"And my interview? It's in four days."

"I'll handle it."

"You'll—" Marcus stared. "No. Absolutely not. We're switching back. Now."

Tyler exchanged a look with Alex. Something passed between them that sent a chill through Marcus.

"What did you do?" Marcus demanded.

Tyler sighed. "I asked Alex to modify the procedure."

"Modify how?"

"The reversal process is more complex than anticipated," Alex interjected, not meeting his eyes. "The neural pathways have begun permanent adaptation."

"Permanent?" Panic surged through Marcus, his heart—Tyler's heart—hammering. "That wasn't the deal. You promised twenty-four hours!"

"I was drowning," Tyler said, Marcus's voice cracking with emotion. "Every day. Words jumbling, professors thinking I'm stupid or lazy. Do you know what it's like to have the answers trapped in your head while everyone looks at you like you're worthless?"

"So you're stealing my life? My future?"

"I'm borrowing it," Tyler insisted. "Just until after the semester. Then we'll figure something out."

Marcus looked between them, realization dawning. "You never intended to switch back, did you?"

The silence was his answer.

[hauntedhokage]

miscommunication

summary: Toge's been distant, you finally confront him to find out why

word count: 2.5k

warnings: explicit sexual content (minors dni), emotional conflict, Inumaki uses his cursed speech

note: for my beloved @silverrings-n-prettythings who drew some inspirational Inumaki art. Ily bbygirl

It felt like with every day that passed, he’d become more distant. Late nights that were once spent talking about the future, kisses exchanged between soft touches and other intimate gestures that replaced the words that he couldn’t use himself, turned into nights spent apart with you going to bed alone and waking up with cold sheets and a note. Did he love you anymore? You weren’t sure, and that uncertainty hurts more. The anxiety that came with waiting for that shoe to drop - waiting for the note written in his messy handwriting that tells you that he didn’t love you and wanted to separate. 

What would you do if it came to that? A life without him didn’t feel like something that you could do, considering the way he’d steadily been a constant in your life over the past year. Nobody made tea the way he did, or knew exactly how to scratch the itch at the base of your scalp when it was bothering you. Squeezes of your hand in his when you were feeling anxious, how it felt to be wrapped around him after a particularly rough mission - the despair you felt when he left, and the relief when he returned. 

These things all became constants, things you’d come to expect like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Your sunrise was Inumaki Toge; morning, afternoon, midday and the evenings - but you’re worried that the sun was beginning to set on your relationship. You didn’t think it was fair for him to just distance himself, not even try to talk to you about what was bothering him that he’d feel the need to do this to you. Even with his limited verbal communication ability, you’d spend hours on the couch texting back and forth or learning sign language to develop something that was more efficient than texting and note writing. 

Tonight was worse than any other night, only because you’d had plans. Plans made in advance; plans to stay in and have a nice dinner, play some silly board and card games, and then cuddle up for a movie or two. Plans that he was now two hours late for, plans that had you sitting at a dinner table with two plates of a dinner that was a blend of his and your favorite dishes. Dinner that was now about as cold as you’re Toge felt about you, dinner that had you crying as you stood to pick up the plates that clearly wouldn’t be touched tonight. To punish yourself; you’d probably eat the leftovers for a couple days, reminding yourself that Toge would rather do anything but share a meal with you. 

The front door opening has you slamming the fridge shut, and you’re making eye contact with your boyfriend as he takes his shoes off. Your obvious emotional state has him immediately concerned, closing in on you to try and assess the situation until your hands smack him away to put some space between you both. 

“You don’t get to pretend to care after missing game night for the third week in a row.” Your statement has his eyes widening, phone coming out of his pocket while his other hand pulls his collar down. “Don’t even bother, Toge, I get it. You don’t love me anymore and you’re tired of pretending, so you don’t have to pretend anymore! And to think I started taking sign language classes just for you to…”

You turn away as his fingers start to rapidly tap against the screen, needing to clean up the table and finish cleaning the kitchen. The whole time, though, you can’t stop talking at him. Telling him that you know he thinks you’re more of a burden because you don’t have any cool talents like his, that you must be overbearing since you like to know his schedule, how awful you most be to be around that he never wants to be home when you are or spend time with you. Those kinds of things that you’re not even sure where it all had been bottled up but you do hear his frantic tapping behind you as he tries to respond only to have to pause, backspace a bunch, and type some more. 

You catch him gesturing, frantic “tuna, tuna” leaving him while he tries to show you his screen, but you keep your gaze fixed on the task before you because you fear that if you look at him you’ll start crying. You didn’t want to cry when you were trying to yell at him for putting off breaking up with you, that would make you look more pathetic to him than you’re sure you already did.

“Please stop.” 

Two words uttered so softly yet full of desperation have you freezing, though you’re sure even without the cursed speech you’d be frozen at the sound of Toge’s using words that weren’t his usual safe words. You’re afraid to even look at him, but you face that fear as you turn to face him and the phone extended towards you with a screen full of words intended for you to read. 

“Toge?”

“Please,” he whispers again, angling the phone towards you in a silent plea for you to take it and let him defend himself. You do; your fingers grazing against his as you take the device into you hand with your thumb tapping the screen out of habit to keep the screen awake. 

I love you so much. 

I’m so afraid that I’ll let something slip and hurt you by accident so I’ve been trying to stay away while figuring out words that can be safe for us to use together. 

Didn’t know that my distance would hurt you

I’m so sorry

“Toge,” you whisper, nearly dropping his phone in your rush to pull him into your arms. Tears burn at your eyes while you feel his dampen the skin of your neck, his arms tight around your waist to keep you pressed flush against him - as if you could be apart from him after this. “Don’t you ever try to hide from me again.”

“Salmon,” is mumbled into your neck, and you give your own nod before you pull back to kiss his cheek.  A kiss to your cheek becomes a kiss on your lips, Toge’s mouth carefully coaxing yours open to allow him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You feel small shockwaves along your tongue as it brushes against his, the sensation caused by his cursed markings sorely missed by you in the period of distance he’d forced between you now a source of comfort and a reminder that he was with you again and just as desperate for your touch as you were for his with the way his mouth worked against yours. Your back hits something sturdy, you think it’s probably the fridge but don’t have time to think too much about it because Toge is bringing your leg up to rest on his hip to press the growing tent in his pants to your core in search of friction that would bring pleasure to you both. 

“T-Tore,” you breathe when he pulls back, watching as his eyes search the space beside your head for something while keeping himself pressed against you. When he finds it, he’s reaching for it, and you recognize that it’s one of the magnet strips with pre printed statements on it that he’d been searching for. This one had been originally something unimportant to your life with Toge, so you’d used a label maker to make it something that would have real purpose in your home.

Would you like to fuck? Stares at you in bold black font, the smiley face after bringing a smile to your own face as you take the magnet from him to slap on the fridge above your head before you’re kissing him again. It’s not a kiss that lasts long before he’s pulling away, slowly lowering himself to his knees before you and pulling at your pants and underwear as he goes. 

He only bothers to free one of your legs from its confinement, bringing it to rest over his shoulder so he could be close to your core, his eyes closing as he takes a deep inhale of your scent. It was clear that he’d missed you just as much as you’d been missing him, the pure relief that you see in his relaxing features bringing a new wave of calm through your body. He was here, he was happy, any doubt that may have lingered regarding whether or not he wanted to be with you is calmed in this moment - only to be replaced with the sparks that come with the feeling of his tongue against your clit. With the way his cursed markings seemed to vibrate against your skin, it’s like you feel him in your skin in all the best ways while his fingers carefully probe your wet slit. 

“Toge,” you whine, your hand in his hair while your other hand grips the handle of the refrigerator door. “Please, no marathons.”

That earns you a displeased grunt against your clit, but he had to understand that his forced distance was the reason why you needed him to go easy on you. But you continue to stare at him, eyes locked on his own as you push his hair back away from his forehead until he gives a more affirmative grunt with a nod that would serve as his agreement that he would not intentionally seek to overstimulate you like he typically enjoyed doing. 

Two of his slender fingers ease into your cunt, the wet sound so loud in your ears but drowned out by the loud groan Toge let out when he got a taste of how wet you were already. His tongue moves eagerly around your clit, the cursed appendage rolling around the sensitive bud in tight circles while his lips maintain a tight suction that keeps you clenching around his fingers as they fuck you. You’re not sure what is louder; your moans of pleasure, Toge’s moans and groans of delight, or the sinful squelching of your wet pussy being attacked from the inside and outside by your attentive lover’s hand and mouth. His eyes open, the look he gives you full of pure adoration as he opens his mouth to press the pulsing flat of his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue their fast strokes inside your cunt. 

“Cum for me,” is mumbled against your clit, the command forcing your eyes closed as your body tightens up around him while he does his best to keep you upright and prevent injury. Your pleasured cry is music to his ears as his tongue laps at your throbbing clit to try and keep you on the edge of overstimulation. You said no marathon, you didn’t say he couldn’t use his cursed speech and that loophole was an unfair advantage you’d truly scold him for later. 

“You’re cheating,” you scold; voice nothing more than a whisper as you push his head away from your core, pouting down at him as he grins, his free hand massaging your thigh that rest on his shoulder as he brings his fingers to his mouth. Your leg is carefully removed from his shoulder, and he’s carefully pulling you down to the floor to sit with him. There’s a delightful awkwardness in trying to get each other undressed while sitting on the kitchen floor, and it all reaches its intended outcome when Toge is carefully lying you back against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Your feeble attempt at an offer to reciprocate the oral pleasure you’d received is met with a shake of his head as he settles between your spread legs, his fingers trailing along your slit before you feel the blunt tip of his cock trying to make its entrance. 

Your hands settle on his chest as he kisses you, his length working its way into your neglected pussy. You feel his groan rattle his chest, the sound reverberating through your mouth with the additional hum of his cursed energy overwhelming your senses. He’s all that matters to you at this moment, the slow grind of his hips into yours to keep close as he savors this reunion. His pace is slow, hard strokes pressing deep into your core and sending waves of pleasure along your spine as your hands move to clasp at the back of his neck. 

“I missed you,” you whisper, a statement that has him frowning, an apology in his eyes that has you regretting your honesty only momentarily before he’s smiling again as he shakes his head. Everything was going to be okay, you know that and trust in that. He sits up slightly, his hands taking your thighs in his hands and pushing them back towards your chest to allow for closer contact. He’s checking only momentarily to make sure you’re okay, the nod on your end allowing him to continue with his forceful thrusts. 

“T-Toge,” you gasp, the deeper angle forcing the wind out of you as he rests his forehead against yours. The only sound that follows is the sound of skin on skin with his hard thrusts, the primary soundtrack to your lovemaking as his mouth leaves yours in face of kissing along your face down to your neck to that spot that made you squirm as you feel yourself approaching the cusp of your orgasm. He knows you’re close, the pace of his strokes slowing down to try and force you to hold out for him. He wouldn’t dare tell you to wait, and you’re relieved when he whispers in your ear for you to cum for him. The cry that leaves you has him smiling against your cheek, his own groans flooding your ears as he finds his own release inside your pussy. 

He finally pulls out, moving to lay on his side beside you and gently stroking your cheek as he smiles at you before poking your nose and getting a giggle out of you that has him chuckling. In return, you reach out to poke his nose, which results in a poke competition as you’re both laughing until your arm gets tired. Your eyes close, relief washing over your system at the fact that you still had Toge, he still loved you and wanted to be with you, but his need to protect you from himself had him doing something stupid and not communicating his fears. That would need to be discussed when you weren’t naked on the kitchen floor.

There’s a gentle nudge to your side, and your eyes open to see Toge sitting up and looking down at you with a fond smile while nudging you with his knee. There’s a head nod towards the hallway that led to your bedroom, you know he’s trying to get you either to the bedroom to rest on a more comfortable surface than the kitchen tile. 

“Get into bed.”

“You’re a menace!” And you’re standing, Toge taking your hand in his own so he could walk with you to the bedroom. 

[luvsupa]

“HAPPY ONE YEAR.”

tags: boyfriend!toji x fem!reader, fluff, angst, toji is NOT broke guys please </3, cheating (guys don’t ever cheat), established relationship, heart break, sad ending, oneshot

w.c: 2.3k

a/n: EEK first request 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽 based on this ask! I hope i did it right anon 🙏🏽

+ likes and reblogs are appreciative!

you slowly wake up as your alarm clock blares, its annoying ring cutting through your dreams. with a huff, you slam the alarm off and reach out to toji’s side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.

he must’ve left for work early, you think, shrugging off the thought. after freshening up in the bathroom, you catch a glimpse of your tired reflection, the lack of sleep evident on your face.

you slip on the silk robe toji had custom-made for you, adorned with your initials. as you open the door to head to the kitchen, you stop in your tracks, stunned by the sight before you. the living room is filled with balloons—large and small, floating gracefully around the room.

happy one year! read the silver holographic balloons.

a large bouquet of flowers sits on the coffee table, accompanied by a pastel pink gift bag. an envelope with toji’s handwriting and your name is perched on top.

overwhelmed by the surprise, tears well up in your eyes. you’re deeply touched by toji’s thoughtfulness, feeling loved and seen in a way you hadn’t expected. you had assumed he’d forgotten the anniversary.

as you approach the bouquet, the front door unlocks, and toji walks in with a box of your favorite pastries and two cups of coffee.

“oh no, i thought you were—”

before you can finish, you rush to him, tears streaming down your cheeks. you set the coffee and pastries on the nearest table and wrap your arms around him, struggling to fully embrace his muscular frame.

toji lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you gaze into his warm, brown eyes. your hands caress his face, your thumb gently tracing the scar on his lip—a favorite detail of yours. you lean in for a passionate kiss, one hand massaging the back of his head.

“i love you so much, ‘toj. thank you,” you say, tears still glistening in your eyes. toji looks at you with awe and tenderness.

“c’mon, baby, go look at ‘yer gift,” he says softly, setting you down and wiping your tears. he guides you to the couch and settles comfortably, pulling you onto his lap.

you gasp as you reach for the gift bag, your heart fluttering with excitement. toji’s hands gently rub your thighs as you pull out a bracelet adorned with charms from your favorite movies and tv shows. each gift you unwrap fills your heart with joy, and you can’t stop smiling and kissing him with every new surprise.

toji chuckles, his hand moving from your thighs to rest on your belly. he gazes into your eyes with warmth. “y’know, i can’t help but think about our future… maybe havin’ a little one runnin’ around someday,” he says softly.

your heart swells at his words. a future with him—a small family filled with love—is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. “i’d love that, ‘toj. i love it so much,” you say, placing your hands over his on your belly.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the morning went differently than you’d expected. you can't stop smiling as you explain to your friends, nala and eliana, on facetime what happened. you’re getting ready for the dinner toji planned for the two of you.

“soooo what else did he get you?” eliana asks, eagerly.

you show them the jewelry, and they’re in awe.

“this is so cute! we have similar-,” nala exclaims, but you have to cut her off, saying you need to go because toji’s calling you.

you quickly grab a coat and slip on your heels, rushing out of your apartment. you hurry to the elevator and head to the front entrance, spotting toji texting on his phone while waiting in the car. as you open the door, he puts his phone down, giving you a loving look.

he pecks you on the lips, and you wish the kiss could linger. he reminds you that the reservation is soon.

as toji drives, he looks incredibly handsome. one hand grips the steering wheel while the other rests on your thigh, rubbing gently. you can’t help but smile.

“what’s got you all smiley, baby?” he asks, smirking as the car stops at a red light. the red light illuminates his face, making him look even more attractive.

“hmm, you just look so good,” you giggle. he leans in for a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. you both laugh as toji speeds off after the sound of angry honks from behind.

toji’s phone rings loudly with multiple texts. you try not to glance at his phone, but it’s clear someone’s upset based on the volume of messages.

“ah, the boys are just cheerin’ for us,” he says quickly, trying to distract you. “by the way, ya wouldn’ mind if i grab some drinks with them afterward?”

“i wouldn’t mind. i have to get up early for work tomorrow anyway. go have fun,” you encourage, though you’re a bit sad he won’t be there when you fall asleep. he kisses your hand and whispers, “i love you,” before you arrive at the restaurant.

toji helps you out of the car, taking your hand and opening the door. “ladies first,” he says with a smile, making you giggle. the restaurant is bustling, with chatter and soft music filling the air.

the host leads you to a ‘U’ booth where toji can’t take his eyes off you. he tells you to order whatever you like and not to worry about the cost, loving to see you happy.

dinner was amazing, with flavorful food and delicious desserts. afterward, you head home, feeling the food coma setting in.

as toji drops you off, you don’t realize you’re already home until he wakes you gently. he chuckles at your confusion and makes sure you’re fully awake before heading back to his car. you watch him speed off, wondering why he’s eager to see his friends.

you head to the elevator, annoyed by the music playing through the speaker. once you’re in your suite, you lock the door, toss your keys aside, and head to your room to remove your makeup and get ready for bed.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you suddenly wake up in the middle of the night, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. it reads 3:27 a.m., and toji still isn’t home. worry gnaws at your stomach as you rub your eyes and reach for your phone. the brightness stings your eyes as you unlock it, about to call him, when you hear the front door unlock. quickly, you put your phone back and pretend to be asleep.

toji carefully opens the door to your shared room, plugs in his phone, and undresses, tossing his clothes into the laundry bin by the bathroom door. your side of the bed faces the bathroom, and you watch him hurriedly strip out of his clothes. he turns on the bathroom light and closes the door slowly, the light spilling onto the floor as you hear the shower start.

there’s no way. 

no. 

you don't want it to be true. could he possibly… you nearly gag at the thought of him cheating. you don’t want your suspicions to be true.

fuck it.

you carefully get up from bed and tiptoe to the laundry bin. there, you see the white collar shirt he wore on your date. your heart sinks when you see it smudged with lipstick. that was definitely not your shade. you bring the shirt to your nose and inhale a familiar female perfume. your hands shake as your worst fears start to come true.

but how can you be sure? there’s no physical proof of him with another woman. maybe wine spilled on his shirt at the bar. yes. you start to fill your brain with excuses, feeling slightly better at the thought of his clumsiness.

you rush back to bed and pull the covers over your body, facing toji’s side, trying to fall back asleep. the delusional thoughts comfort you, but just as you shut your eyes, his phone dings.

your eyes snap open, and you see his phone brightly illuminating the dark room. everything in you wants to check it. this could be the evidence you need to confirm whether he’s cheating or not.

you carefully move to his side of the bed and reach for his phone, your heart racing. you would die if he caught you.

you tap his phone, and the texts pop up.

oh.

you gulp hard, feeling a lump in your throat. your hands get sweaty, and you feel paralyzed.

nala ♡ - now

baby u get home yet? text me backkkk

nala ♡ - 1 minute ago 

i alr miss u so fuckin much :(((

nala ♡ - 3 minutes ago

look how wet she still isss

[1 attachment image]

tears blur your vision as you place his phone back. he finishes his shower, and you turn away, silently crying into your pillow. you feel utterly betrayed by the man you thought loved you and by your best friend.

memories flood back of past relationships that were always shitty. they never treated you right, only used you, never wanting to know the real you. and the only person who was there for you through all your breakups and heartaches was nala.

but toji. as cliché as it sounds, he was different than all your exes. he took the time to know you, made everything about you. and now, this.

the weight of betrayal crushes you, making it hard to breathe. you silently sob, feeling more alone than ever.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * 

your alarm blares loudly, but you just stare at the ceiling. you haven’t slept a single hour after what you witnessed. you hoped it was a nightmare, but sadly, it’s your reality. at 5 a.m., you informed your boss you wouldn’t be coming in because of an emergency.

you could fucking kill them both.

you glance at toji, deep in slumber, small snores escaping his mouth. cheating bastard, you think.

rising from bed, you grab his phone and send a text to nala.

come over in a few hours, i got the home to myself.

you place his phone down and turn to walk away, but her crazy ass responds within seconds.

nala ♡

of course ;)

while waiting for nala to arrive and toji to wake up, you prepare coffee and a nice hot breakfast. despite wanting to scream and cry, you want toji to think everything’s normal.

“smells good, baby,” his deep, raspy voice comes from behind you. perfect timing, you think. “you didn’t go to work today?” he asks as he walks closer. you turn around and fix him a plate. his face softens at your puffy eyes.

“sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks, cupping your face. you feel like crying into his arms, knowing he could make you feel better, but anger rushes in, knowing his betrayal. “allergies,” you coldly say, handing him the plate. he moves to the living room couch, already knowing you’re lying.

a loud knock echoes through the room. you smile internally, knowing nala is behind the door and toji has no idea. you walk to the door, preparing yourself not to cry in front of them.

“nala! what are you doing here?” you say, emphasizing her name. her smile drops to horror in a second. toji chokes on his food, trying to focus on the tv but failing. he turns and sees nala. their eyes widen as you stand there innocently.

“come in, i just made some breakfast,” you say, moving to welcome her inside. she stiffly walks in, eyes glued to toji. “i-i should really go, i-uhm,” she stutters, but you shut the door behind her.

nala awkwardly walks to the kitchen, on edge. you hand her a plate and tell her to join toji in the living room. she sits on the couch opposite him as you stand, watching their body language.

“how long,” you shakily say. your mini facade of being tough and clueless vanishes. nala fidgets badly, and toji stops chewing.

“w-what?” nala says, tears forming in her eyes.

“how long have you t-two been going behind my back?” you feel a harsh lump in your throat, telling yourself not to cry.

nala bursts into tears, continuously apologizing. she covers her face as toji sits stunned.

“how long, nala,” you shout, tears threatening to spill. you walk closer to her. she sobs uncontrollably as toji begins to ache for her.

“how long!”

“calm down,” toji says, moving to comfort her. your eyes twitch.

there’s no fucking way.

“are you serious? you fuck her once and now you forget who your girlfriend is?” you shakily say as nala cries more. “did all that planning for yesterday mean nothing to you?” tears fall down your cheeks. nala mumbles something you can’t catch.

“i-i planned it a-all for you,” she says. “‘m so sorry,” she pleads. everything was a lie. toji never loved you; he always loved nala. he didn’t even know it was your one-year anniversary until nala brought it up and begged her to plan everything.

“how long?” you plead, looking into toji’s eyes. he looks down, cradling nala.

“seven months,” he says. you and nala sob even more.

you feel weak as you nod at him, grabbing your phone and car keys. nala’s cries echo through your ears. you grab a jacket and slam the front door, crying your way to the elevator. your breathing quickens as you realize your entire relationship and friendship were lies. everyone probably knows, and you’re the last to find out.

what hurts even more is toji not comforting you. you’re supposed to be comforted, not her.

[glowettee]

how to recover from chronic procrastination (not just time management tips)

by mindy @glowettee

i wanted to talk about healing your relationship with time and tasks when you're stuck in a deep procrastination cycle. i've been in this cycle for a month now, and just recently got out of it using all of these methods. please just remember to be gentle to yourself, and take small steps.

understanding your procrastination:

identifying emotional triggers: notice what feelings come up right before you avoid tasks. is it fear? overwhelm? sometimes it's as subtle as a tiny flutter of anxiety

recognizing avoidance patterns: maybe you always clean your room when essays are due, or suddenly need to reorganize your pinterest boards before studying

spotting perfectionism links: notice when you're not starting because you're afraid it won't be perfect. this often shows up as "i'll start when i feel more prepared"

understanding fear responses: your body might feel heavy, or you might get suddenly sleepy when facing certain tasks. these are actually fear responses in disguise

mapping procrastination cycles: track how one avoided task creates a domino effect of more procrastination. it's usually a sweet little pattern we can gently break

emotional recovery steps:

healing task-related anxiety: create tiny, sweet rituals that make tasks feel safe. maybe light a candle before starting or use your prettiest pen

building self-trust again: start with promises so small they feel silly. like "i'll work for just two minutes" and actually stop after two minutes

developing completion confidence: collect evidence of times you've finished things, even tiny things like making your bed or sending a text

managing overwhelm spirals: catch yourself before the "i have so much to do" spiral starts. write everything down in your prettiest handwriting

creating safety in starting: make beginning feel cozy. wrap yourself in a soft blanket, make tea, create a gentle environment for work

rebuilding work capacity:

micro-task training: start with tasks so tiny they feel almost meaningless. maybe just open your laptop or take out one book

starting-point exercises: practice just beginning things without the pressure to finish. it's like dipping your toes in a pool

momentum building: string tiny tasks together like beads on a necklace. each small completion leads to another

success spirals: document every tiny win in a pretty journal. watching the pages fill creates its own kind of motivation

confidence restoration: celebrate completing even the smallest tasks. treat each one like a tiny victory worth noting

practical healing methods:

task relationship repair: make peace with tasks that scare you. talk to them like old friends you're getting to know again

emotional safety nets: create comfort zones within your work space. maybe a special corner with fairy lights and soft pillows

anxiety soothing techniques: develop gentle ways to calm your nervous system. perhaps counting flower petals or tracing patterns

overwhelm prevention: break everything down into pieces so small they feel almost silly. like "open notebook" as a complete task

progress preservation: keep a soft, gentle record of all your tiny steps forward. no progress is too small to celebrate

creating new patterns:

gentle accountability: find ways to be accountable that don't feel punishing. maybe share your tiny goals with a friend

achievement recognition: notice and celebrate every small completion, even just getting out your materials

progress celebration: create sweet little rewards for progress. maybe a favorite song or a moment with your comfort book

pattern interruption: catch old patterns with gentleness. "oh, there's my pinterest avoidance. how sweet of me to try to protect myself"

identity rebuilding: slowly start seeing yourself as someone who can start and finish things, one tiny step at a time

maintaining recovery:

preventing relapse: notice early warning signs with kindness. catch yourself before the avoidance cycle starts

managing setbacks: treat setbacks like gentle reminders to return to your healing practices

building resilience: each time you start again, you're building stronger foundations

sustaining progress: keep your momentum gentle and sustainable

adapting strategies: adjust your approaches with tenderness as you learn what works best for you

remember: recovering from chronic procrastination is about healing, not just forcing yourself to work.

tip: small wins create the foundation for bigger changes 🤍

p.s. you're not lazy, you're healing from task trauma.

[goshikisbaee]

Spending Valentine’s Day With Haikyuu Characters (part 1)

[ Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi ]

content: Fluff

———

TŌRU OIKAWA

Valentine’s Day with Oikawa is nothing short of extra. From the moment you wake up, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers waiting for you with a note in his neat handwriting: “For the most beautiful person in my life.” He insists on making the day perfect— though his definition of “perfect” may include a little too much of his dramatic flair.

He shows up to pick you up in his favorite casual but classy outfit, grinning like he’s just won a championship match. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you, my love?” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He takes you to a cute café where he spends half the time holding your hand across the table and the other half bragging about how he managed to snag the “best date” in the world. The barista can’t help but roll their eyes at his antics, but you can’t stop laughing.

In true Oikawa fashion, the evening involves stargazing—because of course he has to incorporate something romantic and dreamy. Lying beside you, he points out random constellations, only half accurate because he’s too busy sneaking glances at you.

“I dont need the stars when I’ve got you,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Cheesy? Absolutely. But with him, it’s always endearing.

The night ends with him pulling you close, a soft, genuine smile replacing his usual cocky grin. “Thank you for being my Valentine,” he whispers, his voice quieter than usual. “I promise, you’ll always be my number one.”

HAJIME IWAIZUMI

Valentine’s day with Iwaizumi is simple but meaningful. He’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but he makes sure you feel loved in the ways that matter. When you wake up, there’s a nearly wrapped box on your nightstand—inside is a practical yet thoughtful gift, like a hoodie that smells like him or your favorite snacks. “Didn’t wanna get you something useless,” the note reads.

When he picks you up, he’s dressed casually, but you cant tell he put in a little extra effort—his hair is styled just right, and he’s actually wearing that nice cologne you love. He greets you with a gruff, “you look nice,” before quickly looking away, ears slightly red.

Dinner is at his favorite spot—nothing fancy, just good food and a comfortable atmosphere. He doesnt gush over you like someone like Oikawa would, but his small actions say everything: making sure you get the last bite, keeping his hand on your knee absentmindedly, sending a death glare at anything who looks at you for too long.

After dinner, he surprises you with a late night drive, ending at a quiet scenic spot. Sitting beside you, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at the sky. “I know I dont say it a lot, but… I’m really lucky to have you.” His fingers find yours, squeezing them gently.

Before you part ways, he pulls you into a warm, lingering hug, resting his chin on your head. “Happy Valentine’s Day idiot,” he mutters, voice softer than usual. You smile, knowing that even without the over the top romance, every moment with him is real.

TETSURŌ KUROO

Valentine’s Day with Kuroo is fun—because, of course, he turns everything into an opportunity to tease you. You wake up to a text that reads; “Happy Valentine’s Day to my favorite nerd. Yes, you’re my favorite. No you can’t tell anyone.” A few minutes later, another message: “wear something cute. Not that you need help looking good, but, you know… for my sake.”

When he picks you up, he greets you with his signature smirk and a ridiculous gift—maybe a cat plushie because “it reminded me of myself. Handsome, charming, and definitely your favorite.” But before you can roll your eyes, he hands you something real—your favorite snack or a small thoughtful present that proves he actually pays attention.

Dinner is at a casual yet surprisingly nice restaurant, where he spends half the time making flirty comments and the other half pretending to listen while secretly just admiring you. “You know, I’d let you ramble about anything if it means I get to keep looking at you.”

After dinner, he takes you somewhere unexpected—maybe a late night arcade or a rooftop with a city view. Sitting next to you, he finally drops the teasing for a second, nudging your shoulder before saying, “you know, I joke around a lot, but I mean it when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Before the night ends, he pulls you into by the waist, looking down at you with that lazy grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Hope you’re ready for many more.” And with that, he finally gives you the kiss he’s been holding off all night.

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO

Valentine’s Day with Bokuto is non stop excitement from the moment it begins. You wake up to a spam of texts:

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!!”

“WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS???”

“IT’S THE DAY I GET TO SPOIL YOU, DUH.”

When he finally picks you up, he’s practically bouncing with energy, holding a massive bouquet—probably way bigger than necessary. “I didn’t know which flowers to get, so I got all of them!” He grins, handing them over like he just won an award.

Your date is a mix of everything fun—he takes you to an arcade, a cute café, and maybe even a spontaneous adventure like ice skating (which he’s surprisingly good at). Every few minutes, he reminds you, “BEST. DAY. EVER.” And insists on taking a million selfies.

At dinner, he’s a mix of loud excitement and soft admiration, stuffing his face one second and staring at you like you hung the moon the next. “I’m so lucky,” he sighs dramatically between bites, before pointing his fork at you. “Hey. You know that, right? That I love you?”

The night ends with him wrapping you in the biggest hug ever, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. “Best Valentine’s Day ever,” he declares, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Then, with a cheeky grin, he adds, “same time next year? Actually, scratch that. Every day should be like this.”

KEIJI AKAASHI

Valentine’s Day with Akaashi is quietly romantic, filled with soft gestures that show just how much he cares. You wake up to a neatly written note left at your bedside—“happy Valentine’s Day. I hope today is as wonderful as you are.” A little later, he texts: “Are you free? I have something planned.”

When he picks you up, he hands you a small but meaningful gift—maybe a book you mentioned wanting, or a handwritten letter sealed in an envelope. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “so I just got something that reminded me of you.”

Your date is simple but perfect—maybe a quiet bookstore café, a scenic walk, or a cozy home-cooked dinner. He pays attention to everything you say, responding with soft hums and amused smiles. “I love listening to you talk,” he admits, twirling a piece of his food with his fork.

At the end of the night, he lingers at your doorstep, eyes gentle but hesitant. “I, um…” He exhales, gathering his thoughts before finally meeting your gaze. “I just want you to know that I’m really, really happy with you.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, lips curling into the faintest smile. “I hope I get to spend all of them with you.”

———

💋 💋 💋

[bloodchapell]

hiii if its not too much work could I request what’s it like to be high school sweethearts with stanley?

Also side note I LOVE your writing sm especially since there is barely any one that writes for dr stone now these days 😔

highschool lover — stanley s. SIDE A

what to expect: suggestive, so cuteee

your sword's note: thankyu for the request dear anon! i actually have two posts for this request, i will link it here so check it out too (SIDE B). more on my mistresslist

i have two ideas, either you are a goody two shoes or sheer evil, but for this one lets go with the angel on earth, i will do the menace on the side B

you have english together, he hates the teacher but always sees you participating and it kinda pisses him off but he lets it slide because you are so beautiful that he can't even skip the class because he needs to see you there

the teacher asks you to tutor him, so after school you go to your house and you sit in the dining table with the book assigned for class. you sit reading out loud the first part, then you stop and talk with him about it, initially he doesn't get the symbolism or the metaphors, and he is ready to feel embarrassed and stupid, but you help him right away. he feels his heart skip a beat at the tenderness of your voice, he has never been treated so softly

every day after school, you hang out. you tell him that you love books. he can't talk about books with you, so he asks what your favorite is and at your house you lend it to him

once he is home, he opens it. there is a pressed flower in between, and the paper smells like you, page after page he sees annotations on the text with your beautiful script. he reads the book in one sitting.

"i finished the book dolly, let's talk about it." he asks. he loved the book, it changed his whole perception of things. in recess, you sit together and you discuss the book

his grades in english class improve so much that he doesn't need you to tutor him anymore. you catch him purposefully messing up the response of his homework just so he has an excuse to spend time with you. "stan you know the right answers." you tilt your head and so he erases the wrongdoings and writes the correct ones

he is constantly telling xeno about you. he asks stanley if he likes you and he can't even lie. "no, i don't like her, i am in love with her."

one afternoon while you both read in your house, he asks hesitantly. "dolly, this might be odd, but i would like to take you on a date." you agree so fast that it actually makes him laugh

he takes you on a picnic and then to a drive-through movie theater. initially he doesn't know how to act but you remain kind and understanding as always that he simply acts like usual

by the end of the date, when he drives you back to your house, he opens the door for you and walks you to your doorstep, and you give him a kiss on the lips

the next day, he comes by your house. when you hear the doorbell you open the door and find him with a bouquet of flowers and chocolates. you hug him and let him in. despite his meh handwriting, he gives you a letter. since i met you, my life has become like a dream, my poor vocabulary can't even express it, so i will read all the books i have to until i can tell you. xeno helped him redact that. he is not easily vulnerable, but given the type of person he fell in love with, he feels it is only just. if he has to learn, no problem, he can do it.

"be my girlfriend dolly." he asks playing with your hair, you nod immediately and hug him

he is late to all his classes because he insists on carrying your bag for you and dropping you off to every class

you introduce him to your parents on your first month together, and even years later, having been in the military and in special missions that are real danger, he has never been as scared

he has kissed before, but not like he kisses you. of course later on you two star experimenting and kissing gets heated, but on the regular your kisses are tender and full of love, and he is addicted to them

he heard a girl call you a nerd once in the hallway, but since he couldn't beat her up, he put a rat in her locker

stanley introduces you to xeno and he approves of you👍🏻

he thinks you are an innocent sweet pea but while looking through the collection of books in your room he finds the most down bad novellas, he is shocked

people are always saying "no wayyy" to him when he says that you are his girlfriend, what cliche is going on here!?

all the teachers keep joking that you are going to finally fix him. "there is nothing to fix, he is perfect like this, be more respectful." you say. he doesn't know if to laugh at them or cry at your sweet words

he takes you to alongside him to his hangout with xeno at the paintball arena. he teaches you how to shoot the gun and you seem clueless at first but end up winning. it seems feasible defeating xeno, but even before training stanley was already good at guns

he would never attend school dances, but after he started dating you he does, not only because you thought it might be cute but because he wants to show you off and laugh in the faces of his enemies (whatever that means)

he is oddly shy to get handsy at first, even knowing what you would be reading, but after a particularly heated make out session you pull his hands towards your body and he can't help but give in

"are you sure in the car is fine dolly? wouldn't you want something more romantic?" he pants holding your waist in the backseat of his car. "who ever said that?" you play with the hem of his shirt. nonetheless it was on. clothes removed and bruises on his neck, he had imagined that your first time together would be different, but it is just fine to have you ride him in his car. looks like one can learn a lot from reading —stanley's thoughts—

you are king and queen of prom hell yeah !

better believe you guys are lasting forevah

when stanley goes to training it hits you very hard. you send him so many letters that everyone is jealous

in the class reunion, god knows how many years after, people are gossiping about the highschool days. when they see you walking together they sigh, "of fucking course"

[ticifics]

Forever Yours

Alexei Vronsky x reader

Summary: Alexei Vronsky, with his intensity, lives love in every gesture as a husband and father

Warnings: none

A/N: anon, hope you like it <33

• Alexei would be an intense husband, someone who loves with fiery, absolute devotion, but who can also lose himself in his own desires and emotions. He watches you as if every moment by his side is a performance to be admired. You often catch him looking at you with a sideways smile, almost as though he’s admiring a living piece of art.

• He’s the type who loves extravagant surprises. One day, he comes home with an expensive piece of jewelry he saw in a shop window and simply thought it was perfect for you. On another day, he decides to take you on an impromptu picnic in the middle of a blooming field, not caring about logistics or details.

• He’s fascinated by how your children reflect traits of both of you. “Look at this,” he whispers, watching how the baby holds your finger. “So small, but already so perfect. How can this be real?”

• He insists on having the children educated at home by prestigious tutors, but always makes sure to be present for their first lessons in anything important, even if only to watch them with a childlike pride. He loves hearing the first words they learn in French or seeing them draw imperfect shapes as they attempt to master their handwriting.

• In the afternoons, he likes to sit in his favorite chair while the children play on the rug nearby. He watches them with such intensity that you know, in that moment, his whole world is there—with you and the children.

• Alexei has the habit of carrying the children even when they’re too big for it. He lifts them as though they’re as light as feathers, spinning them around until laughter echoes through the house. He says he wants to savor every moment before they grow up and have to deal with the world’s problems.

• When you argue, Alexei can’t stay distant for long. He gently knocks on your bedroom door, his expression dejected. “I can’t stand this,” he says in a quiet voice. “I hate it when we’re like this.” And even when he’s wrong, he always finds a way to make amends.

• He loves the sound of your laughter. When you laugh, he stops whatever he’s doing just to admire it. “You know you’re ruining me, don’t you?” he teases, though his tone is entirely sincere.

• Alexei is particularly affectionate at night when the world seems quieter. He enjoys lying next to you, talking about anything that worries or fascinates him, always with his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

• He has the habit of writing little notes for you, even when there’s no need. Small letters left on your vanity or tucked between the pages of a book he knows you’re reading. The words are simple, but full of emotion: “My dear, today, as always, I thought about you more times than I can count.”

• When you walk together, whether in the gardens or through the streets, he always offers his arm or holds your hand, as if wanting to remind everyone—and himself—that you are his companion.

• Every night, before bed, Alexei makes sure to stop by the children’s room. He whispers promises about the future, as if needing to reassure himself that he will always be there for them.

• During the harsh winters, he enjoys sitting by the fireplace with the family. He reads to the children while you embroider or simply watch, feeling enveloped by the warmth of the moment.

• He is meticulous when planning family events, like birthdays. He enjoys surprising you and the children, whether with a sophisticated banquet or a carefully chosen small gift. Alexei has the habit of kissing your hand every morning before he gets out of bed. He does this almost reverently, as if it were a ritual of devotion. “It’s still a miracle that you’re mine,” he murmurs, even after years of marriage.

• At night, he reads to you while you brush your hair. His voice is deep and calm, turning even the most ordinary texts into melodies for your ears. It’s in these moments that he seems most vulnerable, setting aside all pretenses to show you a more serene side.

• Alexei loves dancing with you. Even without music, he pulls you into his arms in the middle of a conversation or while you’re distracted. With bare feet on the wooden floor, he leads the steps with a smile that carries the intensity of someone who sees love as an eternal performance.

• On the rare days he can spend the entire morning at home, he insists on bringing fresh flowers to your room, filling the space with the sweet scent and vibrant light that match your presence.

• Despite all his flaws, Alexei loves you with a nearly desperate devotion. He’s the type of man who would do anything to protect his family, even if it meant sacrificing something important to him.

• He’s a father who, though imperfect, learns from his own mistakes. When you confront him about his absences or actions, he listens—sometimes with stubbornness, but always with the intention to improve.

• Alexei is afraid of disappointing you. This fear makes him vulnerable and sometimes leads him to impulsive decisions, but his intention is always to put you first.

• He is deeply grateful for you, even if he doesn’t say it every day. In quiet moments, he enjoys holding your hand and simply looking at you, as if reminding himself that he’s found everything he’s ever wanted.

• Alexei completely melts when the children run to him as soon as he comes home. No matter how tired he is, he kneels with open arms to welcome them. These moments make him forget all the pressures and responsibilities.

• Alexei is fascinated by the children from the moment they’re born. He holds the baby with almost reverent care, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and admiration. For him, every small movement or sound the baby makes is a source of wonder.

• He’s subtly possessive. Not that he doesn’t trust you, but the idea that you could choose someone else over him is something that torments him. He doesn’t express it openly, but you notice it in small gestures: like the way he gets close when you’re in public, touching your hand or waist, as if to show the world that you belong to him.