#no noodle arms allowed in my house

[hazieash]

He can have a little dark magic, as a treat

[sweetfushi]

HIS LOVE HABITS PT 1.

fluff, slight angst | giyu tomioka, obanai iguro, sanemi shinaguzawa x reader, mentions of guilt, crying, mentions of death | word count. 1.1k ◦ notes. watching the new season is making me feel nostalgic about the start of the anime :(

GIYU TOMIOKA.

Giyu shows his passion for you by spending most of what would be his alone time with you. He doesn’t always talk much during the times he’s around you, but he isn’t opposed to you talking. Giyu doesn’t mind where he is, as long as he’s with you and knows you’re safe - despite his underlying feeling of perhaps being incapable of protecting you completely. Thus, he sometimes feels guilty for wanting to spend time with you, but he compensates for that by allowing you to guide him - choosing where to hang out, leading most conversations.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like his alone time. You out of all people know best how much he indulges in silent reflection and meditation, but you’ve also noticed that he’d consult you for those things. He’d start using some of his silent reflection time to ask you questions riddled with guilt. He finds that you’re much like Tanjiro in your overwhelming ability to comfort people.

“You know,” you start as you’re walking alongside him, making your way to the noodle house, “I’m really thinking we need to change our plans. The owners know our orders at this point,” you grin, stretching your arms out.

“Supporting a small business doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” he retorts, plopping his hand on your head and ruffling your hair slightly. “Besides, that makes ordering our food quicker, does it not?”

You roll your eyes but are forced to agree.

Following that brief conversation, the two of you spend the next half an hour eating to your hearts’ desires. Giyu will pause every few minutes to remove the food items from your plate that you don’t like and add them to his with a small smile, both at your sweet voice thanking him and the sight of more food on his plate.

You’ll always require a sweet treat after your meal, whether that be a drink or more food, so you either head into town to survey the sweet stands or drop by Mitsuri to see if she has any stored - she typically does and you’re forever grateful for that.

All the while, Giyu will let you ask him question upon question, start conversation after conversation, all without complaints just to lengthen the time he gets to spend with his beloved.

OBANAI IGURO.

Obanai expresses his love through promises. They’re never empty ones and he makes sure you know that, sometimes even goes as far as gently pulling your ear to discipline your ignorance towards such. Sometimes the promises are of small value, such as promising to not eat your food or not start training without you. Other times, they mean the entire world, where he’ll promise that he’ll return from a dangerous mission or that he’ll not get injured because he couldn’t ever be so weak as to let a demon injure him fatally.

Every time he promises you something, the eye contact with him is almost intimidating. Obanai feels as though averting his gaze from you connotes distrust and uncertainty, so he always ensures to gaze into your apprehensive eyes when he speaks his truth. In moments of vulnerability, when you’re crying late at night because you’re certain tonight awaits his death, he’ll emerge from the Master’s room determined to fulfil his assignment and not evoke worry.

When he sees you in such a state, sniffling and averting your gaze, he’s convinced that you’re stuck in a cycle of paranoia and fear.

“Are you really so sceptical of my return? Don’t be so foolish,” he says, narrowing his eyes at your despondent state. “I promise I’ll return to you.”

You hear Kaburamaru hiss before feeling him graze your cheek with his face. You whimper and allow him to do so, only until you motion for Obanai to sit beside you. He does so without question and cranes his neck to look into your eyes, to which you turn away from.

“Have I ever broken a promise made to you?”

You swallow thickly. “No.”

He huffs. “So what is your concern?”

You shrug but, in reality, know what is bothering you. Instead of telling him, however, you lift your head to look at him and pout in an attempt to satiate your tears. “I’m going to kill you if you don’t come back, Iguro. I swear.”

You can’t see his mouth, but you know he’s smiling as he nods and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA.

Sanemi shows his love for you through acts of service. Initially, you hadn’t noticed it, but you start questioning him when your katana appears sharper and cleaner, your uniform neatly pressed, and your food managed to suit your tastes.

“Have you only just noticed? I’m almost insulted,” he scoffs, gently smacking the back of your head only for you to groan and swat his hand away. “The swordsmiths are practically sick of me,” he grumbles, watching you admire the shine on your katana.

You grin and elbow his side, making him wince and shove you. “You’re so in love with me.”

“I don’t know where you got that idea from,” he teases, flashing you his canines as the two of you lean closer to each other, faces inches apart as your childish squabbling continues. Sanemi snickers as you attempt to maintain your scowl but inevitably fail at the close proximity, turning into loud laughter when you slump over and rest your head on his chest.

As a Hashira, the Kakushi already know you, but recently have appeared in near fear of your presence (despite being aware of your empathetic personality). At one point, you explicitly ask why the change in treatment, to which they respond: “Shinazugawa-san isn’t forgiving if your uniform is anything but perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“As in washed, pressed and perfumed.”

You pause, shock evident in your expression. “Uh,” you almost break into laughter, “you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll… have a talk with him, make sure he’s not bullying you.”

The Kakushi give you a pointed look, to which you nod and purse your lips. You mumble, “well, he’s getting slapped.”

Sanemi always ensures that the menu provided to the cooks that cater to you suits your tastes. However, you’re highly concerned with the fact that Sanemi thinks anything is obtainable through an arbitrary expression of power, but you have the advantage of being able to discipline him for thinking such without consequence.

“The Kakushi help us, not serve us!”

“That’s a very liberal way of looking at it– ow!”Sanemi groans at the punches you land to his chest, making him double over and eventually lay down on the grass with no attempt of fighting back. “Okay, okay, I’ll be nicer.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[amorchai]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): tasm!peter parker x reader

words: 926

warnings/tags: established relationship, r is implied to have a period – however, not ultimately gender specific.

it had been early evening, the sun setting across the horizon of new york, a faded orange hue emitting in the small apartment window of your kitchen as you stand by the stove. you’re scrolling through your phone, trying to relocate the recipe with your ingredients waiting by the countertop.

however, from the moment you pour water into the large pot atop the heating hob, you jump at the sound of a tapping window. turning your head, you’re met with the masked face of spider-man, a dorky wave sent your way.

leaving your things to the side, you wipe your hands across your apron before walking towards the tiny window to push open, allowing peter to stumble into the room. “hey, baby,” his adorable voice starting as he tugs the backpack from his shoulders to place on the wobbly kitchen table which tilts upon impact, “still need to fix that,” peter notes to himself while pulling his mask off.

his spikey hair flops in front of his eyes as he discards the mask to the side, facing you with open arms who smiles at him warmly with the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. peter places a kiss on your head as you melt into his chest.

“thought i’d find you in here at this time.”

“you know me too well,” you reply, mumbled against peter’s chest. he smirks, hands trailing up and down your arms softly while looking over your head to the array of ingredients, “what’s for dinner tonight?”.

pulling away from him, you walk towards the kitchen counter and back to the food ready to cook, allowing peter to follow you like a lost-puppy, arms swivelling so he can cuddle you from behind.

“noodles with veg, going to make some curry sauce,” peter hums approvingly, against your head. “that time of the month?” asks peter, knowing they’re two of your comfort foods merged together.

“yeah.”

“well, perfect timing, because in that case…” peter trails off, arms dropping from your side and allowing you to start cutting some spring onion, curiously listening for him to continue.

usually on days like this, he would stop by your apartment before going on patrol, leaving a bag of fresh clothes to change into when he would return to your side for night-time cuddles. however, tonight he has a thicker bag containing more things.

“what’s that, pete?” you ask curiously when the shuffling from behind stops, you turn your head to catch a glimpse of his face. he holds up three books under his chin with his eyes squished into an innocent, happy smile to show off.

“got you these,” his voice a murmur as his gloved hands moves the books into a tower while returning to your side to show you. cheesy romantic stories, laced with fake dating tropes or colleagues to lovers because it became a tradition to both read the same cliché books and talk about the scenarios afterwards.

you knew while he got you these, it was partly because he loves those categories himself and knew it would be up for grabs once you’re done. plus, you had little space left around the house for your endless books, mainly bought with or by peter himself, feeding the addiction.

but ever since dating you, finding your love in books appeasing and was able to take the time he lost when becoming spider-man to start reading again. your favourite date with your spider-boy being reading days in the café or under a tree during a warm summer’s day.

“thank you but you know more than anyone that i don’t need more books, pete,” you giggle and glance up at his proud and giddy expression as he dismisses your comment to show you the cover to the second book. “this cover reminded me of you, i really liked the purple background and illustrated flowers, plus this is also fake dating!”

you watch the way peter gushes, unable to look at the covers as you mainly focus on his reaction to his gestures so sweet but he considers casual. “are they all fake dating?” you ask with a grin, peter checking the third book before meeting her eyes, flitting between each one with his dorky smile matching yours.

“yup,” a pop in the ‘p’ while he responds.

“do you sometimes wish that you fake dated me first before we fell in love?” you ask in a teasing tone, watching as peter leans closer, nudging your nose as he shakes his head lovingly. “you didn’t give me time to, by the time you spilled the coffee on me i was already head over heels,” you scrunch your eyes at his response before he continued, “which is the cliché romantic meeting i’m more than happy to claim, we’re our own romance book, baby.”

with a kiss upon your lips, peter begrudgingly moves away with a displeasing groan while placing the books beside his bag, “gotta go on patrol, i’ll be back later, ‘k?”. you nod with a smile, turning back to the counter but watching peter as he moves to the open window, mask in hand.

“i’ll leave you some food in the fridge.” you comment as he slides the mask back over his face, leaning out the window but willing to respond normally, “thank you, baby. i better come back to you asleep with one of your new books.”

“you bet. be safe, spidey.” you reply, watching as he gives you a thumbs up before shooting a web at the building across, shouting while he jumps, “love you, baby!”

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[redcoralpot]

Eleganti - Poly!Stuilly x FTM!Reader

If you saw this before it was reposted, no you didn't.

Warnings: Implied internalized homophobia.

Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.

-

The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.

Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.

Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”

“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.

“Not right now.”

You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”

Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown. 

“Uh… whoops!”

He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible. 

It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”

Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”

“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.

“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”

Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.

He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”

“Good choice!”

To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.

Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”

“Hm.”

“C’mon—”

“Black.”

You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”

Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.

“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.

“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”

“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”

Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”

You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.

“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.

Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.

“You look fine, it’s normal.”

He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”

-

[minhosimthings]

Love Wins All - LHS

Synopsis: In which Heeseung is your true home.

Pairings: bf!Heeseung × fem!reader

Warnings: reader has a panic attack, reader has complicated relationship with her parents, crying, the eldest daughter syndrome, swearing, HEE COMFORT LETS GAURRRR, fluff, mention of food, me being poetic as always

A/N: whadup y'all I am unfortunately alive so I'm BACK with this here Heeseung fluff because I love him and he is mine and I am going mental. This is for the Hyuck to my Mark, my beloved @jaeyunluvr

There is a peculiar notion that exists in the human world that no one can love you more than your parents. The people who created you. The people who brought you into this universe, this magnificent galaxy of ours that we call home.

There is a notion that your parents are home.

But you learnt early on in life not to make homes in people. You learnt that people are like travelling rivers , like the flowing water in a forest stream, which brings about both peace and destruction, depending on how one's eyes view it. People would never allow you to make homes in them.

And no matter how hard you tried to make a home out of your mother and father, because you thought they were the only people you were compelled to live in, you failed. If people were asking to calm rivers, your parents were like the harsh nightly waves of an ocean, which brought out destruction as they hit the rocks of the shore over and over again and again, never ceasing to think about how the rocks are doing.

Nevertheless, you managed to find a home of your own. You were surprised you did, what with how much you didn't believe in homes and souls and all that bullshit you read repeatedly in books and saw on the screen.

But Heeseung was different, you thought to yourself. He was like a river you had made yourself a travelling home in, one which would be suited well to his serenely flowing water, which touched and kissed you like the skyline kissed the sea at dawn.

Heeseung was different, you knew that. He was that familiar pair of arms and that familiar, comforting scent that you always imagined you'd go home to as a child. He was the person who you had dreamed of as a teenager, someone who'd hang up your coat for you after a long day, someone who'd make you pancakes in the morning while you slumbered on, someone who'd talk with you deep into the starry nights about anything and everything, someone who'd kiss your forehead everyday before leaving for work, someone who'd love you and show you that your 17 year old perception of the concept of love was not wrong.

So there was no thinking about it when he was the first and only person you wanted to collapse into after a devastating, disastrous, draining day, filled with no calm waves and no love.

•••••••••••••••

The sound of your keys jangling, as they were set down onto the key holder, bought a smile to Heeseung's face, as he was cooking up the last portions of pasta. It was Friday night, which meant that you and him were going to eat Heeseung's notorious pesto pasta, drink some wine and relax into the night's clutches. Saturdays meant going out, so Friday was set aside for peace.

Heeseung's left the noodles simmering in the water as he shut the lid and took off his apron before going to greet you. He was excited for pasta night today, since it had been a long week, filled with work on both your sides. Additionally, you had been staying over at your parents' house for some time, so that added to the lonely hours Heeseung spent in bed hugging your hoodies because he couldn't fall asleep without the scent of you lingering understand his nostrils.

Now, he was hot on his heels, ready to engulf you into the biggest hug ever and kiss you for eternity. Perhaps he was exaggerating, but the taste of your lips on his really was asking to ambrosia to him. If the Gods had their nectar, then he had his.

"Evening, princess." Heeseung chuckled, leaning against the kitchen door as he watched you slowly take your coat off and hang it up on the rack. Lifting your head up, your mouth stretched into a smile on seeing him.

"Seungie..." You cooed, walking over to him and immediately locking yourself into his arms. Heeseung's left arm went to your waist, the other going to support your head. You layed your head gently on his chest, your own arms tied 'round his slender figure.

The comforting scent of him, cherry cologne, basketball tees and pasta sauce, filled your senses as you took a deep breath in, closing your eyes. Perhaps it was from the pure exhaustion you were feeling, but the mere scent of him brought you back to where you've wanted to be for the entire week.

Home.

Heeseung was your home wasn't he?

You felt Heeseung smile as he loosened his tight grip on you, pulling back to look at you. His bambi eyes traced your features one by one, making you feel a bit shy, as if the love of your life wasn't doing what he always did. Heeseung's eyes wavered a little as they landed on your slightly bloodshot ones. Ever the observant man, he was, he chose not to question you about it, knowing you would tell him the reason sooner or later.

"I missed you." You beamed up at him, as a breathy chuckle left his plump, pink (perfectly kissable) lips, "Missed your pasta too." You nose wrinkled at the delicious smell coming from the kitchen, as you glanced towards the door.

"Only my pasta?" Heeseung's bottom lip jutted out to form an adorable pout, which you oh so missed, "Not my kisses?"

"Nope." You giggled, popping your lips, eyes wandering down to his again, "Only your pasta."

Heeseung smiled gently as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. The gentleness of his touch made tears well up in your eyes, you had craved this love for a week now, as if you were Eve, starved of interest, and in her hunger, taking a bite of the apple to satisfy herself.

"Love?"

You snapped out of your stupor at the sound of Heeseung's honeyed voice, gently calling you. You felt the warm touch of his hand against your cheek, he gently cupped it and closely examined you with his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, voice still soft as cotton, as if he would have broken you if he spoke any louder, "You don't look too good."

"I'm fine!" You responded, the words coming out a little more enthusiastic that you had intended them to, "I just need a shower." You laughed it off, but Heeseung knew (through what he called his boyfriend tingle) that you most certainly were not ok.

"Love, are you sur-"

"I'm fine, Heeseung." You firmly stated, putting your own hand on top of the one Heeseung had on your cheeks, gently pushing his off, "I'm gonna go take a shower." You smiled again at him before glancing towards the kitchen, "And you've got some pasta to make, mister, so get going."

Heeseung grinned before letting go of your waist, one last kiss was pressed to your forehead before he rushed off into the kitchen to put together a dinner fit for royalty.

•••••••••••••

The feeling of warm water hitting your skin, whilst you stood underneath the shower, brought about the waterworks. This feeling, this familiar feeling of showering in your own bathroom was ridiculous to bring tears to your eyes, but here you were. Soaking in despair, as memories of the week you had spent came rushing to your brain.

You enjoyed staying with your parents, you truly did. After all, they had been the ones to witness each one of your fails and each one of your successes, carefully shaping you, like a potter with his clay, to avoid the mistakes and focus solely on being the golden child. But they had failed to notice that even the golden child burns out sometimes, even the Icarus child loses her wings. That, combined with the never ending screams and shouts that envelope your childhood home, you weren't even sure sometimes whether your parents actually loved you or not.

Love, as you had believed it from ages six to ten, was the feeling of receiving ice cream, the feeling of someone running a brush through your hair, the feeling of rushing home from school and excitedly doing your homework, so that the teacher would give you a star the other day.

Love, from ages eleven to sixteen, was something that was fictional, something that was described so sweetly in the books that you thought 'of course it isn't real'. It was something to be bought and sold, something that couldn't actually exist between people, you blanked out at the fact that when you visited your friend's home, you found her parents talking merrily to each other, as if they actually knew one another.

Love to you, now, was a complex conundrum of ideas. It was full of paradoxes and oxymorons that you didn't want to spend hours decoding and deciphering.

For now, love had been the same cherry cologne, the same honey coated voice, and the same pair of doe eyes, staring lovingly into yours after a long day, whilst you lay with tangled limbs and slightly fuller hearts.

Stepping out the shower, with a warm towel wrapped around yourself, you stared at yourself in the vanity mirror, tracing your hands over your face, whilst your eyes did the same with themselves. Heeseung would definitely notice how bloodshot your eyes were, and you didn't want to put more of a burden on him than you thought you had already done.

Burden. That word again.

Always showing up when you least wanted it to. Of course you were a burden to your parents, why on earth would they even want you, now that you had a life of your own? Apart from the fact that you were the sole witness to the years of domestic bitterness, they had no idea who you truly were. And of course, you were a burden to the world, you had been taught that since the ripe age of eight. Who'd ever want a burden?

You quickly rubbed some of your face cream onto your skin, hoping it would make the tear marks disappear. As for the bloody eyes, well, there was always the soap in the eyes' excuse.

Your hands roughly blended the cream into your skin, you knew it was unhealthy, but at that point, all you wanted was a plate of pasta in front of you and a tall, pink haired man in your arms.

••••••••••••••••

Heeseung stood in the kitchen, frozen like a deer in headlights, staring down at your phone. An unread message proudly showed itself against your bright Studio Ghibli wallpaper. Messages from your younger brother. He was about six years younger than you, and he still stayed at his parents, being a year away from college. That was what Heeseung knew, based off of what you'd told him. Messages from your brother were peculiar, because for one, he was busy with his work, and two, apart from sending each other dozens of reels on Instagram everyday, you and your brother never really talked much. It was that kind of sibling-love, Heeseung thought, the kind which stayed on, even after not conversing with actual words.

So these many messages from your brother was weird, especially considering the fact that the first one started with "Are you doing alright?"

Out of curiosity, Heeseung had checked the texts, and his mouth fell open at what was before his eyes. His mind couldn't comprehend what your brother had been taking about.

Dozens upon dozens of texts, all taking about something with the keywords, 'argument', 'parents' and some or the other thing to do with 'I miss you'. Heeseung's brain seemed to do some kind of a backflip, as he finally realised why your eyes were so bloodshot when you had arrived.

"Hee? Baby?" Heeseung snapped out of his stupor at the sound of your voice behind him. He was quick to put your phone down and pretend like he was checking on the pasta.

"Need anything baby?" He asked, eyes visibly softening as he looked at you. You smiled gently at him.

"Have you seen my phone?" You ask, peering around for it.

"Yeah uhm..." Heeseung hesitated for a moment before picking up the phone on the counter behind him, "Here you go."

Your fingers gently brushed against his as you took the phone from him, offering him a smile as you did. Heeseung turned back to his pasta, while your eyes gravitated to the multiple texts that lay scattered on the screen. Quietly sighing, you sat down on the chair, and resting your arms on the table, scrolled through your brother's texts.

You felt your jawline tighten more by the second as you read each and every sentence, the drastic moments of the horrible week you had suffered flashing in front of your eyes. The air around you seemed to still as you read your brother's last text. Perhaps you had read it wrong, you thought, but no manges how much you tried to convince yourself that your tear-filled eyes did not just read 'I miss you, when are you coming again?' wrong, you couldn't.

Your heart tore itself into bits and pieces as you re-read the texts again, torturing yourself by doing so. You had told yourself that you'd never go back to the argument filled house again, back to bad memories and nightmares. But there was that pang of guilty sleeping inside of you, 'They are your parents after all', 'They raised you, shouldn't you be more grateful for it?'.

The air around you stilled as you felt the muscles of your chest constrict, your veins tangled into one another, like dark, flimsy ribbons. You couldn't remember when the last time was that you felt like this. Perhaps it was in high school, when you had lost a quiz, solely because you had one less mark than the winner. Or perhaps it was when you had won the tennis match, on the grounds that the other player had been cheating. Whatever it was, you couldn't recall the last time the world came swirling down on you like a tornado and you felt like your lungs were filled with weeds.

This feeling inside seizes you, holds you tight, and doesn't allow you to take a proper breath. And that's ok, you think. You don't need to breathe, not yet. But the feeling doesn't stop, and your body eventually screams for another breath. The thing is, though, you can't get any air in, so you panic once again. The cycle never ends. It keeps repeating until you're drowning in your sweat and anxiety

"Baby?" You faintly heard Heeseung's voice from afar, "Y/N, love, look at me." His voice was firmer this time, and you felt the soft touch of his fingers on your skin.

His gaze loomed over your blank expression, never before had he seen your eyes so devoid of any emotion. Heeseung takes in the painfully blank expression on your pale face, the way your chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that you couldn't quite seem to control, the way you were angled himself just slightly away from him, and suddenly his mind snaps back into place.

You're having a goddamn panic attack, one that you haven't had in a long time.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around your own, he can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on your hand.

“Baby, come on, breathe.” He said, slowly reaching out to you, “Love, look at me,” He said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him.

As soon as your eyes landed on his— those beautiful pools of comforting chaos and shimmering stars that you wanted all to yourself—the lasso that was tied tightly around your exhausted brain, broke with an audible snap.

A loud, theatrical sob ripped through your chest as the dam at your eyes broke. Tears flowed down your skin rapidly, like raindrops in a thunderstorm. You probably looked pathetic at the moment, which caused you to double over in another trough of tears. You wanted this night to be perfect for Heeseung. So why couldn't you just be perfect?

Heeseung could sense your thoughts running wild in your mind. He tightly gripped you in between his arms as you sobbed. He blinks his own tears away, and bites his lip to stop himself from calling your parents every possible insult that existed in the English lexicon.

Heeseung hated seeing you cry. It was one of the few things that actually made him sad. Seeing how your beautiful eyes would fill up with tears, how your lip would tremble and how your entire body would shake like a life in the wind, much like it was doing now, he despised all of it.

"Shh love, it's alright." He hummed so softly that make you want to cry even more, "It's alright, I'm here. You're safe."

“I-I’m really sorry—…” you choke out between sobs, "—I'm sorry!"

But Heeseung only pulls you closer to him, his grip growing tighter, as if he wanted to squish all the despair out of you, "I'm here for you, princess."

You let your body go limp and rested your head on Heeseung's shoulder. His hand instinctively cradled your head and stroked your hair. You felt calm now, but weren't ready to move and Heeseung didn’t seem to be in any hurry for you to get up. However, he was in a hurry to get you to breathe properly.

“Love, come on now, look at me,” Heeseung said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes to look at him. “Come on, with me, yeah? Breathe.” He then took a slow, deep breath, and you mirrored his actions.

“And again,” he said, getting you to focus on slowing your breathing down. One of his hands held yours against his chest so that you could feel the pattern of his breaths. After several moments of slowing your breathing and getting you to breathe normally again, you finally sighed and looked up at Heeseung with tired eyes, muttering a small 'thank you' to him.

You stayed wrapped up in his arms for quite some time, stuck in the moment in quiet silence, the only sound being the sound of Heeseung's softly humming. His fingers drawing shapes on your back and his voice gently floating through the air slowed your world down to a still, a rare moment for you that you quiet enjoyed.

"Baby?" Heeseung cooed softly, "Would you like to go up to the bedroom?"

Exhausted from all the crying and unable to open your dry mouth, you mindlessly shook your head, only wanting to stay in his warm arms for longer.

"Then do you want to talk about what happened?" A soft smile settled on his lips, bringing your mind to ease and a little more saliva into your mouth. Sighing heavily, you spoke.

"I—my parents," you started rather lamely, the gravel in your voice was evident, "I can't deal with their taunts and scoldings everytime I go over to their house. That and the fact that they keep fighting all day." You sighed again, "I'm not saying 'don't fight' or anything–I get it they're grown adults, but fuck Hee, I can't deal with the fact that they don't even wait for my brother and I to leave the house before they're going at it on each other like bulls." You felt Heeseung's fingers slightly tighten, "And they keep fucking making me feel like I'm the least perfect person I'm this entire world when they, out of all people, know that I'm trying so hard."

"And I can't rid my brain of the fact that my brother has to suffer all that until he gets to college. And sometimes I feel like I've betrayed him by getting away from that stupid house." Your voice slightly cracked, the tears starting to form at your eyes again, "–and I feel so fucking selfish all the time for that. And then there's the fact that no matter how perfect I try to be for them, they just don't accept it!"

You breathed out a long held breath of air and melted into Heeseung's arms once more, your hand holding onto his shirt tightly, as if he's float away if you let him go. You felt guilty about his wet shirt, stained with all your dumb tears.

"Sorry about the shirt...." You mumbled, hiding your face, "And for everything else, I know I've ruined the night-"

"Oh princess." Heeseung softly cooed, a smile dancing on his lips, "You didn't ruin anything for me." His fingers went to your chin, grabbing your face and tilting it up to look at him. Your eyes met his and you relaxed at the true home you saw in his irises.

"I love you, you know that right?" He asked, to which you nodded. He let his grip on your chin fall down to rest on your waist again.

"Do you know why I love you so much?" He asked again, to which you meekly nodded a 'no'.

"It's because you're human." Heeseung said, making you snap your head up at him with a confused (or in Heeseung's terms, adorable) look.

"I don't love you only for the perfect version of yourself, or for your amazing cooking." You let out a tiny puff of a laugh at that, "I love you for all your flaws, all your fails and all of you. Baby, no one is ever gonna be perfect and if your parents can't understand that, then, pardon me for saying it, but fuck them."

You let out a raw laugh at his words, burying your head in his chest as you giggled, feeling the saliva come back to your mouth as he gave you a tight squeeze.

"You're the most perfect person in the world to me." He cooed gently, "No cap." A lopsided smirk decorated his face after his last words.

"Heeseung!" You laughed raucously at him, "What have Jake and Riki been teaching you?"

"It's the language of love mi amore." He smirked again, his eyes shining like nebulas.

"Can we have that pasta now?" You asked timidly, beaming up at Heeseung, who smiled his warmth back at you, "And watch Howl's Moving Castle?"

"Anything for you, love." Heeseung pressed his lips to yours in a short sweet kiss, one which you'd never get tired of, even as a thousand suns set and a thousand moons rise up from the horizon, you'd never get tired of Heeseung and his gentle love.

"I love you." You broke off from the kiss to take a breath.

"I love you more, princess."

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝KISS ME BETTER, PLEASE?❞

— fluff, satoru x reader, shoko and geto cameo, typical sick satoru and reader is an enabler but he’s cute so it’s fine <3

Chicken noodle soup, apple juice, ginger tea, and a hefty amount of snacks. Besides a plethora of cuddles and kisses, you’d gotten pretty much everything that Satoru requested.

You speedwalk, borderline sprint, back to your shared apartment. Shoko and Geto agreed to take care of a very sick Satoru while you went grocery shopping for more supplies, but knowing him (and those two) he was likely annoying the hell out of them and they were probably about to strangle him dead.

Balancing bags on either arm, and one between your teeth, you flail your keychain around until the house key makes itself known, shoving it in the lock and stumbling into the living space. Before you can even announce yourself, you hear Satoru, raspy voice and all, feebly calling for help from the bedroom. It sends a protective panic through your spine, and you drop the plastic bags in the doorway before hurriedly shuffling down the hall.

“Satoru?,” you call out to him. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

Your boyfriend lets out a muffled-sounding groan as loud as his sore throat will allow. Fearing the worst, you rush towards the cracked open door of the bedroom, tossing it open and staggering inside to be met with–

“Hey, no!,” you stomp over, smacking Geto’s hand away from Satoru’s squished cheeks. “Stop that right now, Suguru!”

The man chuckles at you, Shoko huffing in mild annoyance nearby as she fiddles with a cigarette. “It was the only way to shut him up, he was bein’ all whiny and mopey while you were gone.”

Shoko reaches over to poke Satoru in the cheek, causing him to shrivel away into your awaiting arms. She giggles, but she and Geto avoid the angry gaze directed at them, fearful of your wrath.

“Don’t be mean to my Satoru while he’s sick.,” you scold and point an accusatory finger at the two. “Out, both of you.”

Geto gets up from his spot on the edge of the bed, hands tossed up in surrender. “Fine, fine.”

Satoru sticks a triumphant tongue out at them and Geto starts to throw up a middle finger before meeting the daggers of your eyes. He escorts himself out, Shoko close behind him, and Satoru snuggles deeper into your arms, red and sniffling face stuffed into your chest.

“They were so mean to me, baby, so mean!,” he pouts, even more dramatic than usual. “Hurt my feelings. Kiss me better, please?”

He blinks those woeful, puppy-dog eyes at you, and you can’t help pressing a lingering kiss to his abnormally warm forehead. Satoru grins, happy to have finally gotten the smooch he’s been craving these last few days, and the hug around your waist tightens.

“Got some snacks for you in the other room, love, lemme go grab you some.,” you coo into his bright white hair.

Satoru shakes his head, voice barely able to be made out as he smothers his face into the heat of your body again. “No, please. Stay here.” He says it less like a plea and more like a matter-of-fact statement, because he already knows you’ll stay.

You sigh against the crown of his head and caress the wild mess of white hairs between your fingers. Satoru heaves a deep, content breath, eyes fluttering close against your shirt, and his raspy inhales grow even as minutes pass. His hold on you gradually loosens, and you feel his body go limp as he presumably falls asleep in your clutches.

“Satoru…?,” you whisper.

“Don’t you go anywhere.,” he mumbles, exhausted, and you giggle. “I mean it, you.”

“Okay.,” you sigh in defeat and settle in next to him atop the covers. He clings onto you immediately like a teddy bear, limbs tangling with yours and Satoru curls up the best he can into your side. He shoves his head back into your palm, a silent plea for you to massage his scalp some more, and you entertain him without question.

“ ‘Kay, baby, goin’ to sleep.,” Satoru mutters into your neck and, amongst the the fatigue, you can hear light traces of playfulness in his voice.

“Good.,” his smile grows wider when you place another kiss on his temple. You’re sure to be sick in the next week. “Sleep well, babes.” And Satoru squeezes you a little tighter before caving in to slumber.

[aetherdoesthings]

did you see the arlecchino animation and teaser??? a;fasjl;f

they make me so sad :(( also, the teaser was hot af tho, had me so downbad. arlecchino's lore is just so 😭

~EL anon

would you like new toys?

i simped so hard during the animation and teaser i decided to write a mini series fic about arlecchino. i have a lot of thoughts about it and now i'm regretting not taking up your offer lmao

forethoughts: my love language is writing someone an entire fic about them (not really, but i will write you an entire letter).

notes: fem!reader in mind, but gn!. NOT AN x READER!! READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!

In every cluster of children, there was always one that had trouble making friends. 

That title was unfortunately bestowed upon you.

Always excluded in activities and games, left to play in the corner with the leftover, worn out toys while everyone chose the newest and best toys in the box. It had always been that way; you didn’t see it changing any time.

Father was always more lenient and caring with you. She made sure you were the first in line to get breakfast, lunch and dinner. While everyone had a curfew, you were allowed to wander the halls freely and exit your room. That of course didn’t make it any easier for you to make friends. 

Like a robot given the same set of codes and no changes, days blurred into weeks, and weeks blurred into months while you lived your solitary life. 

~

You sat crossed leg, facing the corner of the playroom, hands empty. You ran out of luck; all the toys were already gone by the time you got to the box. Letting out a sigh, boredom finally consumed you, prompting you to stand up, brush the dust off your shorts as you exited the playroom. No one batted an eye or even glanced at your direction; to them you were invisible. To everyone you were invisible.

Wandering the halls of the House of Hearth at night gave you a pretty good scope on the architecture of the building. If someone asked you where the infirmary was or the bathroom, you could accurately pinpoint the location for them. You looked at the colorful glass panes on the sides of the halls, raising a hand to block the sunlight from hitting your face. They called you a dreamer, delusional for your ideas and thoughts. Said your hopes were far too high. Father always disagreed. Father always disagreed with whatever the others called you.

A sudden shriek was ripped out of your throat as your body went sideways, shoulder hitting an even stone ground. You winced, forcing yourself to sit as you examined your body. You could barely make out what was your leg and arm with the lighting. Standing up, you decided to explore the uncharted territory in your little mind map. The walls were lined with sharp blades that glimmered under the narrow light source opposite to the swords. You looked behind you, to your sides, in front of you, as you allowed curiosity to take hold of your mind. With two hands, you lifted one of the blades from its holding place, letting it fall onto the ground. You dragged the blade along the stone to the center of the room, ignoring the shriek of protest the sword was making. Letting out a deep breath, you gripped your hands around the hilt of the sword, lifting it as high as you could. When you’d finally lift it over your head, a triumphant cheer exited your mouth, eyes admiring the shine and sharpness of the blade like a bee eyeing a flower. 

“Children like you should not be wielding such dangerous objects.” Your muscles went limp, bones turning into uncooked noodles as your head spun to the direction of the voice. Father. Fear wasn’t just done with taking hold of your body. Fear was transmitted into the blade itself. Before you knew it, a sharp pain emitted through your forehead, a rush of warmness surging towards the area. The sword fell on your side, next to your collapsed body.

“Y/N!” Father was instantly by your side. Through that cold and emotionless facade, you could see a flash of worry and fear in her eyes. Fear. Father felt fear. Your head was placed in Father’s arms, knees hooked onto her other arm as you were rushed out of the dark room.

You sat on Father’s table in silence, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt as you stared at your dirt covered, bruised hands. Father reciprocated the silence, as she stood in front of you, using a cotton ball to dab up the blood. You winced at the serum that was infused with the cotton against your fresh wound, knuckles turning white. Father didn’t let out any remark at your wince, rather you could feel her actions becoming more gentle and tender. 

“This might hurt.” Father muttered, picking up something from her tray of material, the object having a thin string tail behind. You could barely stifle a shriek as the needle penetrates your skin, the lithe object dancing from one side to another, piercing hole after hole in your skin. You gripped onto your sleeve for life until your hand was ghost white, as Father stitched up your wound before you could blink. Father let out a sigh, snipping any remaining string as she set the needle on the tray. Her eyes shifted downwards, her lips pursed as you felt her gaze burning into your skull.

“...I’m sorry.” You murmured quietly, the words regurgitating out of your mouth, unable to squeeze anything out under her gaze.

“I thought I told you that recklessness always leads to failure. What were you doing out of the playroom?”

“...” You could feel the corners of your eyes starting to burn up, your mouth quivering. Father noticed. Of course she did. 

“Look at me.” Father sighed. 

Reluctantly, you lifted your head, meeting Father’s eyes. Instead of scorn and disappointment, you were met with understanding and warmth, her pursed lips turning into a thin smile. Thin. Just like the ice you were on. Father could smile all she wanted, but you knew you were as good as dead.

Father’s hand went for your head, sharp fingers combing through your hair. “What type of toy do you like, Y/N? I am planning to get more for the toybox; it appears we have a shortage of toys. Of course, I would like to get the best and newest toys for all. I was wondering what you would like to see and play with.”

Your heart moved an inch higher from your stomach, still threatening to fall and combust into millions of pieces. “U-Uhm… I d-don’t know…”

“Speak up, my child.”

“I-I don’t know… what toys I like, Father…” 

Father let out a chuckle. “Of course. How could you choose your favorite in an empty box?”

You looked down at her words. Of course Father knew.

“Y/N.”

You looked back up at her, meeting her playful eyes, a look you knew she only gave you and you only. 

“How about I introduce you to some… new toys not any of the other children have seen? Would you like some new toys?”

“Toys… the others haven’t seen?” You tilt your head at that statement.

“Yes. Toys the others have not seen. Are you interested? I will personally teach you how to… play with these toys.”

You nodded your head, a small hesitant smile on your face. Father never offered the other children new toys. Father never offered how to play with toys. Father never played with the others.

The corners of Father’s thin lips tugged upwards slightly, as her finger hovered over your wound. She helped you off the desk, hand holding yours as she led you out of her office. “It is almost time for lunch. But I would rather you get some rest after what happened. Rest assured I will bring food to your room.”

“Y-Yes, Father.” You mumbled.

Father led you to your room upstairs, setting you on the plush mattress as the blanket was draped over your body. She ran her fingers through your hair again, petting your head before strolling out of the room. “Rest well, my child.”

~

Arlecchino closed the door, letting out a sigh. She made her way back downstairs to join the other children. “Rest assured, my child, no one will ever dare to lay a finger on you anymore. No harm shall ever come your way.”

[silenttrxxs]

choi san x reader

something a little cute!

you had been feeling under the weather lately, the constant late nights trying to get the work done before the deadline. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration as you type the last letter. "baby..." you hear sung through the house as you hear the footsteps coming behind you. You felt his hands cover your shoulders, the warmth spreading across your arms and down your back. You felt the stress leaving your bones as his hands made light work of massaging your shoulders, leaning down to place some soft kisses to your neck. The warmth of his pure and undying love spreading through your veins. You felt the soft laugh leaving his body as you craned your neck to allow him more access to your neck, your hands reaching up to touch him. "lets get you away from this computer darling, I have a lovely day planned for us." he whispered into your ear helping you to stand up from the chair.

You smiled softly at him before turning and lifting your hands to caress his face. You looked at him, taking in his every feature. "so where are we going then my love" you asked softly, before turning around and rooting through your wardrobe pulling out something that would make you look less like you had been sitting in your bubble for the past 4 days.

You grabbed your favourite jeans and a cute top and stood back, getting changed, you looked around and laughed to yourself.

San smiled as he watched you getting ready, he grabbed his keys and slid his shoes on at the door.

"you ready baby?" he asked as he intertwined your hands together and lead you to the street below.

you giggled as he lead you towards his car parked up. "right first things first, lets treat you some food, you have been living on the worst thing ever. who even likes chicken noodles in a packet thats grossssss" he laughed. "hey dont diss the work monster, at least i managed to eat sir" you giggled.

"well you sit back and enjoy the ride it wont be long till we get there" He said connecting his phone and playing your favourite songs before starting up the car and making your way there.

You arrived outside, parking up and smiling as san walked around to open the door for you, offering his hand to you and helping you out of the car.

You smiled and gasped when you looked up realising he had reserved a table at the restaurant he took you too for your first date.

"sannie" you said choking a little at your words as tears welled up in your eyes. "hey hey hey dont cry baby, i just thought youd like to have a trip down memory lane" he said wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. "now come on lets get some good food and ill try not to make you cry more" he said leading you both into the restaurant.

You smiled as you took your seat and looked at san. Your mind was flooding with nothing but love for the man in front of you, you couldnt be more thankful that you happened to have stumbled upon him throughout your hectic and somewhat silly life. You prayed that the world would give you a break and allow you to experience this love for the rest of your life.

[svnnyd4ys]

the seven + nico incorrect quotes lol

Piper: She's the girl of my dreams! Annabeth: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams. Piper: I have a lot of dreams.

!!!

Leo: *watching their house burn down* Leo: Leo: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

!!!

Jason, looking at a selfie of Leo’s: I hate this photo. Leo: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly. Jason: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something. Leo: Up to kindness.

!!!

Hazel: Nico, how do you feel about lifting heavy things? Nico: My doctor just said I should avoid— Hazel: Being a wuss? I agree.

!!!

*During a game of Hangman* Piper: Nope, there’s no Q. You lose. Leo: Are you kidding me?! You can still add something! Piper: I already added a belt, four earrings and an extra arm! YOU LOSE!

!!!

Jason: Are you guys bringing anything to the party? Nico: Yeah, an empty stomach. Annabeth: My sparkling personality. Percy: A flagrant disregard for common decency. Hazel: ... Hazel: Chips.

!!!

Piper, looking at a map: It’s a barren, featureless wasteland out there, isn't it? Jason: Other side, Piper...

!!!

Percy: You know, Leo, when you generalize, you tell general... lies. Leo: ... Leo: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

!!!

Annabeth: What time is it? Piper: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out Piper: *BLASTS the saxaphone* Nico: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING Piper: It’s 2 in the morning.

!!!

Leo: You’re overthinking this. Hazel: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Leo. What if I’m underthinking?

!!!

Frank: I am an expert at identifying birds. Percy: Okay, what about those ones flying over there? Frank: Yeah, they're all birds.

!!!

Percy: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere* Jason: Where did you get that? Percy: My pocket. Jason: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket? Percy: Skills.

!!!

Frank: If I fall down these stairs, I'm just going to lay down and accept my fate.

!!!

Frank: I’m taking a look at your numbers, and it doesn’t look good. You have a lot of measurements. Quite a few variables. Jason: Is that… bad? Frank: Variables are the #1 risk factor for outcomes. The past is a big contributor to the future. Jason: Isn’t that just causality? Frank: Causality is the leading cause of death in this country. Jason: So what are my odds? Frank: Do you have a family history? Jason: Of what? Frank: Just, in general. Jason: …Yes? Frank: Oh no.

!!!

*the Squad at Disneyland, in the teacups* Leo, Frank, and Jason: *spinning a little and talking* Nico, Annabeth, and Hazel: *flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming*

!!!

Percy: My dad drowned at sea when I was little so whenever someone jokes about fucking my mom I’ll pretend to be really sincere and say some shit like “Glad to see she’s moving on, my dad’s death hit her pretty hard.” Then watch them absolutely fumble trying to figure out a response to that statement. Percy: Update, she got a new partner I can no longer make the joke.

(pre discovering yk his half God-ness)

!!!

Annabeth: I’m gonna mix a can of Red Bull with seventeen shots of espresso in a fishbowl and then chug it while Kids by MGMT plays in the background so I can perceive twenty-three spatial dimensions and fight my own soul.

!!!

Nico: This is a safety pin. *cuts off end* Nico: It is now a danger pin.

!!!

Jason: Sometimes I talk to myself for no reason. Jason: Me too!

!!!

Piper, explaining why they are not allowed to cook: I put the noodles in the pot and put the pot on the stove and turned the burner on high. Turns out you don't put noodles in marijuana and I almost burnt the whole house down.

!!!

Hazel: *gets set on fire and screams in agony* Hazel: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

!!!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can i request a conrad fisher fic with ‘santa doesn’t know you like i do’ by sabrina carpenter? thank u smsm i love ur writing

I've been loving Sabrina Carpenter at the moment, thank you for the idea anon <3 It fits right with an idea I had in my list!

Warnings: mention of losing a parent (Susannah)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Dressed in a red sweater and sparkly skirt, you were about to head to your aunt’s house for Christmas dinner. But just as you were reaching for your coat, you saw Jeremiah’s name on your phone screen. A frown formed between your eyebrows as you answered. 

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Are you with Conrad?’’ 

He sounded worried through the phone. You could feel the prayer for a positive answer in his voice, which made your frown deepen. 

‘’No. Why?’’ 

‘’He didn’t come home. He said he would. He promised Dad— He’s not answering my texts or picking up my calls.’’  

‘’Maybe he got held back at college because of the snow?’’

Jeremiah denied that supposition. ‘’I don’t think so. I called his roommate at Brown and he said he left last night.’’

‘’Maybe he went to Laurel’s? He’s talked about going to Pennsylvania this winter break.’’ 

‘’I already called her. We don’t know where he is. He hasn’t talked to anyone in the last few weeks. You’re the only one he talks to. That’s why I thought he might have been with you.’’ 

A heavy pause hung in the air as you recalled your and Conrad’s last conversations, trying to find a clue of where he was. He talked about finals and living off coffee and cup-o-noodles and how excited he was to eat a home-cooked meal, even if it was mashed potatoes or chicken that wasn’t in a nugget form. The sweater he got Jeremiah for Christmas. His roommate. His mom and the bike he got her last Christmas. It’s still in the garage, at the exact place she left it. 

‘’I think I might know where he is,’’ you said. 

It was a wild guess, but it was Conrad’s comfort place. 

‘’Where?’’ Jeremiah's urgency echoed through the phone.

You shook your head although he couldn’t see. ‘’I’m sorry Jeremiah, but I think it’s best if I go by myself. I’ll call you when I get there.’’ 

⁂

Armed with your double espresso, you braved through the snowy roads and drove to Cousins. It was a wild guess, but you were confident enough that he was there. It was the place he went to every time he wanted to be with his mom again. That house was Susannah all over. She had handpicked everything that was inside, painted all the paintings on the walls, and placed every little trinket just the way she wanted. 

Your family was disappointed that you had to cancel dinner at the last minute, but if Conrad was at the beach house, you couldn’t leave him alone. No one should spend Christmas alone. Especially not after losing a parent. 

Propped and clipped to your car’s air vents, your phone screen showed several texts from Jeremiah, all trying to get more information about Conrad. You ignored them all and focussed on the road and taking the right directions. 

After three hours, you finally arrived to Cousins. The small town was dark. Most small shops were closed — it was almost 11pm —, barely any houses were decorated for Christmas as most residents only came for the summer. 

You pulled in the familiar driveway and parked your car. A light layer of snow coated the grounds, allowing the grass to peek through. The air was crisp, and you could see your breath as you walked up to the porch. 

Using the spare key that was hidden under the doormat, you unlocked the door and let yourself in. It was dark and cold as the power was not turned on outside the summer months. The air was a bit stale too from being inhabited. 

As you ventured further into the entryway, you could see light coming from the living room — the fireplace. Using that light to guide you, you called Conrad’s name. He had to be there. If he wasn’t, someone else was in the Fishers’ beach house.

The tension in your shoulders dropped when you saw him asleep on the couch, a thick plaid over his curled up body. He looked so small like this. You got closer and gently said his name, not wanting to startle him. Conrad was a light sleeper. He stirred, slowly waking, a mixture of surprise and sadness in his eyes when he saw you.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ Conrad asked, noticing your skirt and sheer tights. He knew it was Christmas eve. You should be with your family, not in Cousins.

‘’Jeremiah called me, he was worried,’’ you explained briefly.

‘’How did you know I was here? I didn’t tell anyone...’’

No one knew Conrad like you did. You were there through the good and the bad — and there was a lot of this bad this past year. You were the one who had brushed his tears at his mother’s funerals. You knew all of his favorite songs and picked up every time he called regardless of the time. You always knew just how to make him laugh. 

You sat on the edge of the couch, giving your best friend a soft look. ‘’No one knows you like I do.’’ 

The smallest smile curled on his lips. ‘’I’m glad you’re here,’’ he admitted, a veil of tears in his eyes. ‘’I thought I wanted to be alone, but it makes me miss her more.’’

Your heart broke and you pulled him in your arms.

—

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[pa-pa-patato]

Headcanons (I have not done this in hot minute)

•cuphead always had mug following him as kids

•when Boris was told he wasn’t allowed to bite he took that as being allowed to hit other kids when they annoyed him (was genuinely confused when bendy got mad at him for it)

•Alice’s mom never allowed violence or fights but her dad would cheer on his children anytime he saw the fight (will pretend scold then after if they weren’t in the wrong)

•bendy has face blindness cause I say so

•when he was younger cuphead really wanted to learn how to dance but he never had time and the time he did have was not enough since he’s not a natural

•Boris has a bite mark on his arm from bendy

•Boris also has a scar across his neck which is the reason he wear the bandana (the scar is barely visible and covered by his fire but he’s so used to wearing the bandana that he still put it on)

•Boris and Felix can smell if someone is pregnant

•Boris got used to bendy remaining him to do things like brush his teeth and fur or take showers ext. so when bendy stopped doing it cause stress and what not Boris also stopped cause he forgot

•everyone of the questers had a very realistic nightmare of bendy dying from the ink illness except for bendy

•bendy was supposed be a zanny but never was able because of his living conditions. But he’s still somewhat zanny and will sometimes quote Morden memes

•Alice used to always play dad in house game so she could marry her female friends

•cupbros once found a baby in the middle of nowhere and had no idea what to do so they just brought it hat who freaked out since demon being seen with a baby is super suspicious

•bendy loves to bath in the sun but he’s always to hot to stay long (a nudge to my other hc that he’s supposed shed his skin in the summer)

•bendy is a very slow eater so he has to hurry up when eating with everyone which usually leaves with either stomach ache or being hungry later on

•bendy wants to make dolls that look like all of the quester but worried he’ll be seen as weird and creepy

•bendys hair is magical representation of how in control he is of his magic he used wonder why his hair was always messy no matter how many times he brushed it

•once hat punished cuphead he out of anger just chewed on his desk living marks all over it

•if bendy was raised in hell he would’ve had been a child prodigy

•bendy would pull on Boris’s cheek instead of his ears cause they are sensitive

•he now pulls on anyone’s cheek when they do something stupid out habit

•Oswald and Fanny had really nosy neighbors that saw them kissing one time and tried to spread it around the neighborhood but everyone thought they were just spreading rumors

•once while they were training Boris suddenly remembered all fear and anger he felt while cupbros were chasing them and he just knocked cuphead to the ground shocking everyone including himself

•holly is trying to make a tracker so she doesn’t have to worry about where the questers are

•Boris used to be awful at cooking so much so that he somehow burned down half the kitchen trying to make noodles

•granny insists they all do an ugly sweater contest and to have a photo taken with it all of them on holidays

•cuphead once took a a little bird as a pet and was such a positive influence on him. Unfortunately he came to his bird dead on his bed after he disobeyed hats orders

•baby and snowball pretended to be each other and bendy and holly play along cause it’s so cute

•bendy can’t die from blood loss

•Boris made a small sign that said “I am not free and have a loving home” that he pulls out whenever he’s left alone somewhere

•bendy was always shamed for asking to many questions or was called annoying so he stopped asking. He now just stays close to Holly hoping she’ll ask a question he wants

•bendy also made a lot theories about the machine and his magic that he just keeps in his room not showing then to anyone even tho they could help

•Alice always wanted to be the one that proposes when she thought about getting married

•ebi wants to be friends with bendy but has no idea how to socialize

•Boris can be absolutely brutal if he wants to roast somebody it takes everyone by surprise except bendy that heard worse from him

•bendy got so happy when he realized he could hug Alice as hard as he could without hurting her

•every demon goes to all seven stages of grief when they find out about sexism and homophobia on the surface

•if Alice is flying cuphead will just pull on her leg in the direction he want her to go

•bendy once coughed out an entire knife. He never ate a knife. He doesn’t know where the knife came from. But now he has a cool knife

•mugs used to have freckles

•holly and bendy have the absolute worst taste in crushes

[starry-hughes]

“trevor?” charlie whispered. “trevor,” she dragged out. “it’s 4 am charlie.”

“i am hungry.”

“and i am sleeping.” charlie groans and wrangles herself out of trevor’s arms. she takes a breather, catching her breath before getting out of bed. the floor is cold and her eight month baby bump is pretty much in the way of everything.

charlie sets off the smoke alarm. noodle is barking and pancakes are burning. trevor flies down the stairs, running and almost tripping over his own feet. “what did you do?” he’s eyes are wide but he just woke up.

“burnt my pancakes,” her lip wobbles. trevor sighs and opens the back door to let the smoke out. he cleans up the kitchen and puts away the pancake ingredients. “alright put your shoes on,” he tells her. “why?” charlie’s voice shakes.

“we’re going to get you pancakes. at 4:49 am.” she smiles and trevor gets on his own shoes. charlie waddles out of the house excitedly. “fine. noodle comes too,” trevor sighed looking at the dog happily wagging his tail waiting to see if he was allowed to come. noodle rushed after charlie as trevor locked up the house.

“you two are crazy,” trevor yawns as charlie gets settled into the car and noodle is in the backseat already begging for the windows to be rolled down.

[aboutkiyoomi]

002. apple of my pie | onigiri cravings

cw: cursing/swearing, akaashi is still an ass i'm sorry & of course a splash of angst.

the sunlight flooded through the open windows of the kitchen as he set his keys down in his office, placing the rest of his belongings on the desk. it had been about a month since osamu last visited his tokyo location of onigiri miya. his hair was still slightly damp, and his black t-shirt, bearing the beautiful onigiri miya logo, clung tightly to his torso.

without wasting any time, he ran his hands through his hair, pulled on his cap, and tied his apron around his waist. this was osamu miya's daily routine—simple and efficient but adhered to with precision, especially on busy days like this.

he immediately turned on his music, and "lone (instrumental)" by tyler, the creator began to fill the restaurant. he followed his food safety precautions, washing his hands before starting the day's prep. he washed the rice and put it on the industrial stove, alongside some soba noodles he had set out. the rhythmic chopping and mincing focused his mind, his razor-sharp precision enhancing both the flavor and presentation of his food. he allowed himself to relax, mellowing out in the blissful peace of the moment.

meanwhile, y/n was just gathering her things, prepared to go to work and gossip with iwa, who had news about his romantic endeavors with his best friend, oikawa. as you padded into the study, looking for your shoes that you had haphazardly thrown in after a shift, your eyes fell upon akaashi, curled up comfortably on the futon pushed awkwardly into the corner.

you scoffed, memories of last night playing in your mind.

"i thought i didn't care, y/n. make up your fucking mind," he had said, arms thrown up in exasperation as he bee-lined for the couch.

"you're fucking right, akaashi. you don't care. and since you want to act like such an entitled asshole, you can sleep out here. don't come cuddle up next to me until you figure out what's crawled up your ass and died," you had yelled, your voice rising higher than you intended, tears spilling unintentionally.

"grow up," he muttered, stomping out of the house with nothing but his wallet, keys, and phone.

the house felt bitter and stale. you stood there, tears falling unknowingly. it had been like this for almost a week and a half now—constant arguments, insults flying, and petty silence. it was driving you insane, draining you to argue with someone who obviously wasn't for you anymore.

back in the present, your eyes fell, disappointment and guilt prickling at your heart. you silently picked up your shoes, slipped them on, and exited the house. you sent a text, just letting him know you left so he wouldn't worry, if he even cared anymore.

as you walked to work, the bags under your eyes felt sore, and your body ached from the stress of the past few days. between the incessant arguing with akaashi, studying for your upcoming nclex, and being present for your new friends and coworkers, you were drained.

when you arrived at onigiri miya, your eyes widened slightly upon seeing the lights on and the restaurant seemingly occupied. you wondered if someone had arrived before you, despite being scheduled to open.

after tapping in your employee id, you pushed into the store. the scents of garlic, mirin, and soft notes of sugar wafted over you. curious and slightly cautious, you peered into the kitchen. the scene before you was beautiful.

osamu was mixing a bowl of ingredients, swaying slowly to pink + white by frank ocean. he seemed focused and calm, in his element. your mind raced, wondering who this could be. you didn't remember any new chefs being hired, and no one would be so comfortable working freely in the kitchen. your thoughts were interrupted by a gruff but gentle voice.

"ya gonna gawk some more, or ya gonna come in?" a bright, generous smile followed. "i don't bite, i promise." his smile relaxed as he casually stirred his pot of boiling noodles.

your face grew warm with embarrassment. you shuffled in, dropped your belongings in the break room, and donned your apron before quietly entering the kitchen.

"i'm assuming yer the new hire? yachi never did let me know what yer name was," he sighed fondly, probably thinking about yachi's unwavering flusteredness when approached about minor mistakes in her work. "my poor ma woulda' knocked my head off. where are my manners? 'm osamu miya." his hand extended politely, lightbulbs blaring in your mind as you internally face-palmed before shaking his hand.

"oh… i'm sorry. i'm, uh, y/n l/n," you introduced yourself, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "i'm so sorry, i didn't even remember that you would be here." you rubbed your eyes slowly, still tired.

"don't worry 'bout it. i'm not too strict or anything like that. i just like to get an early start. ignore me. feel free to do what ya normally do." he smiled warmly, and you sighed contentedly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. work could still be your safe space away from the unrelenting akaashi mess and the stress of your upcoming exam.

you smiled warmly and nodded before going to the front of the store to continue your usual opening duties, even making your signature green tea drink in an attempt to wake yourself up. osamu cooked quietly in the kitchen, the music and sounds of his work filling the space. the morning went off without a hitch, calm and warmth filling your body as you finished your opening tasks.

you sat on your "gossip bench," conveniently named by the gossip king himself, sugawara koushi. you pulled out your textbook, which you kept there to study whenever you had a free moment. you sat silently, eyes scanning over the masses of notes scribbled in the book.

osamu walked into the front, glancing around before noticing you huddled up in the corner, reading your textbook. when his eyes caught you, focused and determination spewing from your features. his stomach got that sinking feeling, his mind clouding as he stared shamelessly.

"medical terminology?" his voice poured into your ear, syrupy and sweet and your eyes flicked up to meet his.

"yup, this nclex isn't gonna pass itself," you muttered, a wry smile on your face.

"wow, that's a nursin' exam, right?" he asked, leaning against the counter, towering over you in a way that felt comforting rather than intimidating. almost like you were with your usual coworkers, who had grown to become some of your good friends over the past few months.

"yup, this is my last big hurdle before graduation. well, i have to pass this to even graduate," you muttered, your eyes drifting worriedly.

"well, i'm sure yer just as smart as you are beautiful. you'll pass with flyin' colors." he smiled ear to ear, leaving you no time to reply before walking off to begin plating his new recipes.

and that was the first time that you had ever truly noticed the man that osamu miya was.

a/n: i hope you all hated (enjoyed so much) my terrible (ahmazing) pun that is the title of this chapter. we finally meet osamu, thankfufreakinglyyyy. i'm so excited for the coming chapters, thank u guys for being patient. don't worry y/n will not cheat, i'm killing off the akaashiyn agenda quickly.

taglist (open): @wyrcan @nightlybakes @anyalou @boogiemansbitch @peppersapro @wave2mia @applepi25

[20dollarlolita]

What's up, here's a little pep talk I had to have with myself about the fact that I've recently gone from invisibly disabled to very visibly disabled. It was a pep talk for me, but you can have it too:

Part 1) You deserve to be more than surviving. When you can fumble through and do okay, nice. But what if you can give yourself more support? If, instead of fumbling through, you are able to be comfortable and happy, then you're allowed to do what makes you comfortable and happy. You can do what makes you comfortable and happy, even if you don't NEED it just to get by. Also, BTW, if you feel very poorly when you drive in stop-and-go traffic for more than 4 minutes, because your body is in too much pain from pressing the brake pedal, you deserve better than that.

Part 2) I didn't feel particularly awkward getting disability aids that weren't visible. Expensive insoles in all my shoes isn't a thing other people see, and I didn't feel weird getting them myself. Taking ibuprofen multiple times a day wasn't a visible thing, and I didn't feel weird doing it. It was when I was looking at getting a cane, and when I was looking at getting a wheelchair that I started worrying about if I was "disabled enough" to need it. That was some fun ableism to get to unpack. Invisible things, didn't need to question if I needed them. Visible things, "ooh what if I'm just overreacting?" Can only trust my own judgement of my disability when no one can see it? Yikes.

Part 3) "What if I get a cane and then I get better?" YES. YES. THAT IS THE POINT. THAT IS THE BEST CASE SCENARIO. IF THAT HAPPENS, THEN YOU WIN. YOU DID GOOD.

Part 4) Everyone's ability level fluctuates constantly. It's so built into our lives that we don't even see it, at least until it's someone's disability. "I deadlifted 290lbs yesterday and now my arms feel like noodles," is overexerting yourself and paying for it the next day. Being willing to hike 5 miles in hiking boots, but not wanting to walk a mile down the beach in flip flops? That's your ability level changing depending on what support you get from what you're wearing. Walking 5 miles in hiking boots, but calling a Lyft to drive you 10 blocks because you're wearing high heels? That's getting help from someone else because your ability level is lower that day.

But when it's not being able to get out of bed because you cleaned your house yesterday and overexerted yourself, when you'll walk across a parking lot with a cane but will use a rollator to walk 1/4 mile, when you need someone to push your wheelchair on days when you don't feel good, it feels harder to accept. Also, a lot of abled people fully understand not walking 10 blocks in heels, but consider a disabled person faking because they use nothing one day and a wheelchair the next. Understanding changing ability level is so built into culture that it's not even noticed, but understanding dynamic disability level is apparently just too much to ask people.

Part 5) Every motivational speaker will talk about proacting and reacting. Reacting is looking at the situation you are in, and figuring out what to do about it. Reacting is what you do after something happens. Proacting is where you look at the future, and figure out what to do so that the future situation is something better. Proacting is what you do to make something happen.

Despite the 20dollarlolita pep talks tag on this blog, I'm not a motivational speaker. I'm not going to say that you must proact all the time. I'm going to say that proacting is very valid. If you look at your situation, and you go, "If I use my wheelchair today, then I will have enough energy to do what I want to do tomorrow. If I don't use my wheelchair today, I will be in pain and have difficulty functioning tomorrow," then you can use the wheelchair, even if you feel fine. I've found that, when I use my cane, I often don't feel like I need it. However, my situation is such that I can go from, "I don't need it," to "I really need it," faster than a sponge in a treedome. Over the span of a couple of steps, I can lose my balance or step wrong and find that I'm really leaning on my cane for the rest of the day. Not bringing it because I don't need it at the start of the walk from the parking garage to the coffee shop means that I don't have it on the walk back to the parking garage from the coffee shop. That's putting strain on my ankle that I don't need to put.

Waking up, feeling fine, and still using your wheelchair is completely valid. If you have even the slightest concern that not using your wheelchair today will make things even the tiniest hair bit worse that it would if you'd take the wheelchair, you can absolutely take the wheelchair.

You don't need to proact all the time, though! If you say, "Yeah, I don't want to take the wheelchair, and whatever happens tomorrow will happen," that's also your right. You're the one in your body, and you'll be the one who pays the consequence of not doing something, so you can make a judgement that most other people can't. As long as your judgement is based on your body and your ability, and isn't based on society pressuring you to take less accommodation than you need, you can make that judgement.

Part 6) Sitting down in a wheelchair, your elbows are generally much better able to hit someone's crotch than they are if you're standing up. Sometimes, people will do shitty ableist things. And look, no one knows for sure that it wasn't an accident, that someone did a shitty ableist thing and then you accidentally elbowed them in the crotch. Just food for thought there.

[idunnoficsorsumthing]

surprise

Bobby Nash x reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only. Mentions of abortion, and smut soo 18 +only.

The echoing sound of birds chirping outside woke you up. Bobby was the one that liked to stay in and sleep the day away more than you anyway. Usually you’d take the time to go for a run before work. It wasn’t public that you and Bobby were in a relationship and the two of you like to keep it that way. It simply was easier that way. After your history with bad men it was nice to know there was a good one out there. You were happy to be home after your visit to your cousin's house, she had asked you to help out with two of her children while she was in the hospital giving birth to her third. You loved your cousin like a sister, but those children were devils, and the best birth control you could ever get was to spend a week with them. You cling against his hot skin, as you try to think the nausea away. His big arms wrapped around you in his hazy awakening. “Morning” he said, his low voice sounded like he was seconds away from falling asleep again. He pecked a soft kiss against your skin, allowing his hand to move over your stomach placing his hand on your side. The second his warm hand moved over your skin the nausea became more present, and the dire urge to throw up rose. You pushed his big arm away and ran for the bathroom. The contents of your stomach ended up floating in the toilet bowl. Those evil kids must have given you some kind of stomach bug. 

Most of your ‘relaxing’ morning had been spent next to the toilet bowl. Bobby had brought you some juice though you didn’t drink any. You thought about telling him you were too sick to go to work though nearing eleven it wasn’t as bad.The next couple of days the nausea hadn’t been bad, sometimes the nagging feeling of wanting to throw up whenever you were around certain smells, such as Buck after the gym. 

It wasn’t raising too many alarm bells until the team responded to a 911 call near a place that sold greasy foods, and you couldn’t help but barf on the side of the street hiding away from the patient. Bobby walked over to you when he knew the patient was in good hands with Hen. “Do you need medical attention?” He said, handing you a sympathetic look. You shake your head. “No, it 'll pass just like last time.” You said, referring to the other call the other day that caused you to puke your guts out. “You think you are maybe pregnant?” he asked softly. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief. No way. NO freaking way your thoughts entered your mind as you try to do the mental math about how many weeks ago your last period was. The others were standing near the victim attending his care. “You still have swimmers?” You asked in a mocking shock. You were on birth control. It would be absolutely ridiculous for you to even think about being pregnant. “Hey! my swimmers go for olympic gold okay.” He defended. A little too loud for what he intended probably, as Hen looked up, and gave you a strange look. “I don’t think I am.” you tell him. He just said you’d talk about it at home. 

It took you the entire afternoon to think about you having the possibility of it being a child. You had never thought of yourself as a mother. You never enjoyed spending time with children, and then all the complaining other parents do…. It just didn’t seem like something for you. However, the thought of the possibility of having a child with the man you love seemed different. The two of you made it home after the shift, and the take out dinner was set on the table. He was digging into his chinese food while you were stirring your food through your noodles, hesitant to start eating. “We were careful.” You mumbled as you could tell Bobby had barely spoken to you. He looked up from his plate. He raised his eyebrow. “No we weren’t.” he said, gulping his coke. “Okay well I don’t know I just thought at your age it was unlikely.” You tell him. He nodded and shoved another bite of food in his mouth. “We don’t know anything yet.” he said, you look at him. He had that look on his face when he tried to look happy but you could see past that. “If I am, I know we have options” you opted. Though your heart sank in your chest as you said that. He dropped his fork with a clatter on the plate. “A child is a blessing, y/n”  He said, it was almost like he said it out of his belief as a catholic. “I would understand if you don’t want one.” you argued. “I mean after everything you’ve been through.” He stood up from his seat like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act. “ I can’t believe you want an abortion.” he said, looking like he was about to yell or scream or hit a wall or something. “ I just don’t think either of us have what it takes.” you said, the two of you stared at each other trying to think of the words. He didn’t even respond to the last thing you said. “Bobby-” you started. He didn’t want to hear it. “I’ll go get one of those damn tests.” he said, he rushed out of the apartment with his keys jangling as the last notable sound came from him. Tears rushed to your eyes, and the sound of sobbing was the only thing that echoed through the room. 

You had been crying on the couch for a while now waiting for him. You wanted for him to comfort you, and tell you it was okay. Though this time you didn’t think you knew what to say or how to make it alright. His doubt for this baby made you want it even more. Somehow the thought of him not wanting it made you protective over your unborn baby. You finally hear the door unlock, and see Bobby walking in. This time the anger had turned into sadness. Neither of you had wanted to say anything to one another. Though as you wiped the tears from your cheek he gestured for you to join him in the bathroom.

The two of you sat on the bathroom floor. Neither of you were saying anything after the words the two of you spoke to each other earlier. The feeling of sadness as this was a milestone in life to be happy about, and instead you were worried how you would feel after knowing what that stick said. You had been getting lost in your thoughts, while Bobby was staring at the test on the ground that was there upside down. You sat in a cross legged position while he had one leg lying on the ground while his other knee was up resting his hand on the knee. The timer went off, and Bobby reached for it. “I love you” You said, as he touched it. “I love you too.” He said, a faint smile appeared on his face. 

You moved closer to him till you were close enough to feel his breath on your skin. He flipped the test to show the result. Pregnant. The two of you looked at each other. The silence was deafening. He reached for you pressing his lips forcefully against your lips. You kiss him back it felt like all the emotions of this day were in that kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and he is pressed against the wall of the bathroom. He pulls you against his chest. You start to reach for his buttons on his blouse that he was wearing exposing part of his chest. You start to suck at the base of his neck, as he starts helping you out of your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to the cold air. Your sensitive nipples hard, as he glides his hands over them. You let your head fall back, as he helps you to the ground of the bathroom floor. The cold tiles cause you to shudder from the temperature change. Bobby licks at your nipples, seeing how you respond so intensely to one touch makes you feel his hard cock pressed against your leg. Normally he would take his time to get you ready for him. Tonight he seemed too eager. He helps you out of your shorts, and touches your core, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. His eyes had darkened, and he seemed out for only one thing. Fucking out his frustrations. He doesn’t even bother taking off all clothes, instead he lowers his pants to allow his cock to flop against his stomach. It looked painfully hard, as he started to rub it against you to prepare you for him entering. With one push he glides his cock through your wet folds. “Bobby” you mewled. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before he started trusting. His thrusts were hard as he started rubbing your clit trying to get you off. He let his hand glide to your stomach. “I always thought you couldn’t get more beautiful.” He grunted. The thrusts didn’t slow down; instead each time he pulled out you felt empty and wished he would pick up his pace. “You’ll be so beautiful pregnant with my child.” the words coming from his mouth caused your walls to tighten around his cock. You moan his name over and over again as you come around him. “That’s a good girl, cum for me.” he grunted as he quickened his pace, it didn’t take long for him to release inside you. 

Afterwards, Bobby had turned on the bath for you. The warm water engulfed your body while he was sitting next to the tub, simply looking at you. “Thank god i’m already pregnant, this would be a terrible way to conceive.” you said, this queued a genuine laugh from Bobby. “Sure this is a much better story to tell our child.” he said, you slap him against your arm. There fell a silence between the two of you. “Are you happy?” you ask him. There never had been so much said in the silences between you two as today. “I am” he said: “I was- you were trying to be understanding for me.” he didn’t look at you instead he focused on the ripples of the water. “I took it wrong, I realized that a little late.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m happy too.”

[zeroseuniverse]

Under The Mistletoe

WC: 573 Warnings: none Pairing: Woozi X Fem Reader

Dating Lee Jihoon was probably the oddest experience she had ever encountered, it was almost seasonal, at every holiday he’d be extra clingy, this could be because it was really his only time off. Or it could be because he knew holidays were a tough time for his lover, all she knew was it was physically impossible to tell where he started and she ended when he got in his moods. The fluffy haired man loved the holidays secretly, the joy thrumming in the air always put him in a good mood, and his mood was always infectious.

So as his lover moved around the kitchen, he was a step behind almost as if they were dancing together without touching, left foot, right foot, reach and bend. Every move, he followed like a moth to a flame. She found his actions endearing, especially when he kept trying to reach into the batter of her cake she was making. 

“Ji, you can’t keep eating all of the batter, what am I supposed to feed your members if you eat it all?” She wondered, Jihoon pouted remembering that his members were coming over for a dinner to celebrate their year together.

“Dirt.”

“Jihoon!” She scolded, earning a snicker from the man, nudging his head off of her shoulder, making him look at her incredulously.

“Yah!”

“Yah yourself, stop eating everything or you’ll sit on the couch.” 

And he was sent to the couch…especially after Mingyu arrived and tried helping in the kitchen only to get glared at by Jihoon for 5 minutes straight until he got whacked with a spoon. 

“Why isn’t Woozi helping cook?” DK wondered as he walked into the oddly silent room with Seungkwan, feeling Jihoon pouting at his back. 

“Because he was giving Mingyu and I dirty looks.” She hummed, moving to stir the noodles in the pot before her.

“And why is that?” Seungkwan wondered, taking a seat next to Woozi.

“Because he’s in one of his clingy moods and he can’t risk his reputation by hugging me in front of you guys.” She giggled, knowing it wasn’t the full truth, it had nothing to do with his reputation and everything to do with his own feelings towards PDA. 

“Awh Hyung, go ahead and love on her.” Seungkwan giggled, nudging the elder only to earn a half-hearted glare from his hyung. 

As more people flowed into the house, the attention shifted from the couple, allowing Woozi the perfect opportunity to sneak off after his lover into the kitchen. 

“Yes, My Love?” She chuckled not even looking up from her task to see who followed her into the kitchen, Jiho0n smiled victoriously as he approached her, grabbing her waist and spinning her to face him, catching sight of her surprised face, which grew into utter shock when he place a delicate kiss on her lips and nuzzled his nose against hers to follow.

“What was that for?” she hummed, reaching her arms up over his shoulders to play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“When we meet under the mistletoe, You’re supposed to kiss.” He grinned, pointing above them, and when her eyes followed she found a horribly made paper mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

“Ya know I think Mingyu and I stood under it earlier….”She teased, making him glare at her, earning a loud giggle, both blissfully unaware of the 12 pairs of eyes watching them.