#not sure if the words are the same but the things they refer to are

[caramelkoo]

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship, smut, fluff

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (be safe), begging, reference of titanic if you squint, yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

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Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?” 

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

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“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice 

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

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Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 

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The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-” 

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 

“Excuse me.” 

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?” 

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 

“You fucking bitch.” 

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 

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At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 

Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 

Thump thump thump. 

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 

And he does. For now. 

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 

Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 

“Come here.” 

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 

The feeling is very much mutual. 

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 

“Please.” she begs. 

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers. 

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 

“As sure as one can be.” 

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

She cries out. 

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate. 

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 

“What?” 

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes” 

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 

[peachsayshi]

PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, she told told mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

[luvtak]

Venus Felix, lfx x reader

being in love is scary, and felix had never been so afraid to say the words…

in other words, felix is in love!! and he’s too afraid to say it!!

genre/tw fluffagedeon, debilitating levels of comfort and adoration from both felix and reader, casual nakedness, showering together in a sweet way!, angel, honey, way too many references to greek myths, your honor they’re in love!!

wc 1221

Felix wished he could tell you, he wished desperately that he could reach out and hold you against him. He would tell you he loved you, that he thought of you when he said his prayers; Every night, asking God to keep you healthy before he said amen.

You don’t need it, he knows. You’re full of life, of love, of spirit… Sometimes, when the sun hits you just right, he even mistakes you for an angel—so heavenly, you must’ve been a gift.

He loves you, like any rotten thing loves the good. He’d forsake his beliefs if you told him to, he’d worship you like Kytheria in the Temple of Aphrodite; His mouth would beg for mercy while his eyes asked you for more, he would love you until the death rattle claimed him.

But he can’t tell you, can’t bear for you to see him so vulnerable. It’s only been a month. A month of bliss, of kisses and conversation, a month so serene he can’t think of ever letting go… But a month is too soon to tell a precious thing you love it.

You scare easily, he knows. Too often he finds himself frightening you, your frame jumping in the air and your eyes becoming saucers. The first time he kissed you, you shivered like a wounded animal: gasping into his mouth like you were giving him your soul.

In a way you were, breathing life out of his lungs just to give it back. In and out, oxygen into carbon. He remembers how you settled your hands on his belly, feeling it inflate… kiss… deflate… kiss. So sweet you are, as beautiful as any deity, and twice as charming.

Maybe he’ll tell you next month, cause surely he’ll love you more then. Maybe the flowers will be beginning to bloom and the sun will stay awake to see you return home to him. He’ll tell you he loves you when the moon begins to rise and settle kisses over your sleepy eyes.

You’ll love him then, you’ll love him and worship, him the same.

Although this thought doesn’t comfort his shaky stomach. The hot water pounding down around him doesn’t stop the rambling thoughts, he misses you… he loves you.

In a way, he feels inconsolable, like anything he does will just make the feeling worse instead of taking it away. He needs you in an embarrassing way, yearns for your hands to knead the stress out of his shoulders, for your smile to ease the knot in his throat.

If there was a shooting star he’d ask for you, you with your silly jokes and your loving hands. And like God himself, or the universe, or karma giving back, there you are—Lovely in your work clothes, pretty hands tapping on the bathroom door to say hello.

It only takes him a minute to tug you in, wrapping wet arms around your clothed body and pulling under the shower head. Closer than he needs to be, still not close enough.

“Felix! I’m still in my clothes!” You scream, but you’re laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, Angel, I’ll buy you new ones.” he says, still clutching you to his chest, his head sitting on your shoulder… lips swiping across your collar bones.

“Are you okay, Lix?”

“Better now that you’re here.” You can tell he means it, you can feel his hands shaking and where his lips quiver as they graze across your skin. “I missed you so much and everything was terrible…”

Oh your sweet boy, so darling, so bright.

“Felix, I missed you too.” you say, but the words are hard to utter—Confessions always feel like treachery. “Why don’t you tell me about it while I get out of these wet clothes?”

He tells you Chris was mean while he helps you out of your shirt, that Hyunjin was sad which made him sad while he laughs at your waddling legs struggling to break free from slacks. The laughs falter when you get to your underwear, but still he tells you how he didn’t eat enough, how everything went wrong.

Finally, when it’s just you and him, skin to skin, he tells you he misses you again. He tells you it it was a curse to be away from you for too long, but still, he doesn’t tell you the truth.

The real confession waits on his tongue, swiping along your mouth as he finally kisses you hello.

“I’m sorry it was horrible, honey, I wish I could always be with you…” you tell him, fingers combing through his freshly dyed hair.

“But you are…”

Oh Felix, my lovely, cosmic Felix… You think, feeling the sweeping joy settle in your belly. You love him, this miraculous boy who came into your life like a starfall; granting every wish you ever asked. He’s like a shooting star, a dandelion waving through a medley of flowers, a candle to blow out. You love him, in all the scary ways that come with that. “Don't be so shy, angel, I mean it… Can’t you feel it?”

With one hand he brings your digits to his throat, settling over his wild heartbeat, he tangles his other in your hair. You can’t even worry about how much wet hair you’ll lose, knotted over his slight fingers, connecting you to him in another way. Even obscured by the water, he is so beautiful… Looking down at you in reverence rather than conceit.

“I feel it, Lix. I feel it too.” Man he adores you, prayed for you, loved you into creation. It's so scary to love someone like this, like you’ll fall apart without them in your sight.

Felix has never been a coward, has never been too afraid to jump, to dream… but you are so godly, like a thunderbolt handed into his unworthy hand, and a mere mortal like him should always be too afraid to hold it.

He tells himself to find the courage, tell them you love them… he urges himself, gazing into your wide, beautiful eyes, and praying you’ll love him too.

With his eyes screwed shut, he finally tells you—

“I love you,” he says, “I loved you when I first saw you. I loved you last Monday when you snapped at me, I loved you yesterday and I couldn’t tell you. I love you so much, it hurts me.”

You’re quiet for a long time, holding onto his body like a lifeline, breathing in and out, oxygen into carbon. He’s everything, you think, everything good and everything bad—Pandora's box settled into your hands. He’s life.

“I love you too, more than I can say.” Your voice is quiet, muffled against his chest, but he feels your lips make the words. He can feel the I love you wrap around his aching heart, feel the tension in his muscles dissipating after every syllable. “I love you, Felix.” you say again.

You love him, you prayed for him… worshipped him like a statue in some temple.

He loves you, achingly so.

“Thank you for telling me.” He says, catching your laugh in his mouth, showing you he loves you. I wished for you, his kiss says, I wished you into life.

“I wished for you too.” You tell him, and his smile is the sun.

[lansseaux]

Hellfire

Warnings: S2 spoilers, angst, grief, references to death, reference to the Grey, implied cheating (cait cheating on reader with vi), references to Cait being controversial and reader being compliant

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x fem! reader

Synopsis: Caitlyn returns after failing to kill Jinx.

Author’s note: Two alternative versions of this are in the works because I started rewatching and realised the martial law is instated basically right after Cait comes back 😭 and it’s also during the day - so one version will focus on the instating of the martial law and the other will focus more on the Grey and will see reader getting sick despite Cait’s best efforts.

It had been weeks since Caitlyn had slept in her own bed, weeks since she’d lain beside her girlfriend, weeks which should have born more fruit.

Two of three objectives had been met - Shimmer had been dismantled, and those still loyal to Silco had been neutralised, but it was not enough. Jinx was still out there, her laugh still hammering at Caitlyn’s mind - still waiting, daring, for it to be torn from her throat. That had been the Commander’s priority. She was returning a failure, in the opinions of none other than her own and Salo’s, and it was all Vi’s fault. All of it. How ironic it was this world in which Caitlyn had decided to trust someone like her, the world in which she’d recognised the danger of such and continued anyway. How unfair was it, that despite it being Vi’s fault, she desperately wanted to turn the clocks back, to return to tunnels and take back the words, the hit, she’d dealt Vi.

When she reached her front door, the sky was dark, the stars without their sparkle, but she did her best to swallow the thick lump in her throat, to ignore how lifeless and colourless her world felt, how Zaunite Piltover felt. She had to. For your sake. The last thing she wanted was to take it out on you like she’d taken it out on Vi. Sanitise. Sanitise herself, her uniform, anything she touched before showering, just like she’d sanitised the undercity of Shimmer - that was what needed priority for now. The weeks of exposure meant her uniform was stale with smog, and she didn’t want to take a single chance with either her own or her girlfriend’s health.

Cait was quiet as she pushed the door open, elegant even in exhaustion, gently shutting it behind her. She’d begun removing her gloves when she noticed you in the dim light. Fast asleep on a sofa, a thin blanket over you. Surely you hadn’t been sleeping in here ever since Cait had left. Her departure had been fairly quick, the strategising and execution of this mission beginning on the same day - the day of the attack on the memorial. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to quell your worries as much as she’d thought, as much as she’d hoped. You knew she planned to manipulate the flow of the Grey, she’d told you such, and whilst she had spared your imagination from the plethora of possible side effects stemming from exposure, it had not soothed your soul or heart. There was no need for details, everyone knew the Grey was dangerous - a taboo that topsiders had the luxury of ignoring while Zaunites choked - or so you’d thought, the revelation of the Kiramman ventilation system having been new information Caitlyn had had little time to dwell on when preparing. And so, you’d decided to sleep as comfortably close to the door as possible. Did that bring her home quicker? No. Did it bring her home safe? No. But it soothed you the slightest bit, knowing you would know the second she returned.

Caitlyn sighed softly as she approached, all she could manage to croak out was a weary, “Hey…” You stirred, murmuring softly, your eyes slowly opening a moment later. It took a couple additional seconds for your bleary eyes to focus on her, “Cait?… Cait!” You sat up, feet swinging down to the floor to stand, embrace her and welcome her home but, she held a hand up; she’d already maintained a distance of several paces. “Don’t come any closer. Please,” she said softly; her eyes, obviously tired even in the faint light, caught your confused gaze. “You can’t touch me yet. Not until I’ve showered and changed.” Your mouth had barely opened enough to attempt speech when she added, “It’s okay,” slipping her other glove off, “it’s just a just a precaution, don’t worry.” Her gaze dropped to the gloves in her hands, the fog of exhaustion stumping her a second. Straight to wash, not on the coffee table. Another soft sigh escaped her as she returned her gaze to you, the thoughts she’d been searching for having caught up. “You should go lay down, I won’t be long I promise.” “Cait-” you began. “Please.” Her voice teetered close to a plead. The last thing she wanted was for you to get sick and, in all honesty, she was not as certain as she’d have liked to be that she’d left her anger on the doorstep. Some time to decompress alone would only help. You considered debating, even just slightly, but you stopped yourself. You were tired and the most strenuous thing you had done that day, for the past weeks actually, was attempt to stay up as late as possible in hopes of not missing Caitlyn arriving - of not simply waking up in bed the next morning besides her, having been carried there by her. You wanted to help her, pamper her as she deserved. If you had felt so worn out by that, Caitlyn must have felt shattered. She didn’t deserve any irritant, no matter how innocent the intent behind it might be, so you simply nodded and offered a small smile, “… Okay.” Cait returned the smile, appreciative of your understanding. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” She reiterated softly, watching you begin to head up the stairs, before she took off her shoes.

It took a while for Caitlyn to enter her bedroom, there could be not doubt she’d been thorough. Upon her entrance however, it took little time for her to change and slide beneath the covers you held back for her - the desperation for rest being the predominant driving force. She pulled you close, the tops of your foreheads meeting delicately as a deep, shaky sigh fell from her lips. You hesitated, unsure if now was the best time to ask - on one hand, Cait was exhausted and the subject was touchy, but on the other, perhaps talking would help her have a more restful sleep. “… How’d it go?” The beautiful blue your eyes had only just grown accustomed to in the dark disappeared as her lids fell, a deep inhale had accompanied. One beat of silence followed another, you didn’t think she would respond and you had already decided not to push her. “We accomplished most of our objectives.” She began, “I… I found Jinx.” You tucked some of her hair behind her ear, noting the slight crease forming between her brows, it was still slightly damp. “… Yeah?” “I had her right there.” She continued quietly, “I could’ve… I had the shot… but…” Cait’s breath became marginally agitated, the lingering pads of your fingers on the tucked hair soothing her somewhat, in tandem with your presence, your forehead against hers. She inhaled once more, focusing on those connection points, on your scent, hoping to be grounded, to work through the anger, frustration, disappointment, bitterness and hurt enough that she wouldn’t lash out, that she wouldn’t poison you too. After a minute or two, she had. “Vi stopped me.” As you’d waited for her to find her words, your fingers had mindlessly begun a rhythmic brushing back of the hair you’d pushed behind her ear; the hair wasn’t loose but it felt right, soothing. That revelation, however, had prompted a pause in those ministrations. “… Stopped you?” “… There was… someone else… she didn’t think it was worth the risk… but I had the shot, I wouldn’t have missed. I know it.” A silence settled, the memory - the emotion of that moment, the anger, the betrayal on both sides, the hint of regret - still potent in Caitlyn’s mind as you had found yourself at a loss for words. It wouldn’t make sense for this other person to be anything other than… “A civilian?” Cait withdrew her forehead, a soft rustling accompanying her shift against the silk pillowcases, “… Yes.” You didn’t need to know the entire truth. She couldn’t bear another tone or look of distaste, she wouldn’t accept it. She was an excellent shot, there was no risk of collateral and so the nature of that ‘potential’ collateral was irrelevant. It was simple. “… It’s alright, Cait.” You tried to soothe, partially bringing her from a spiral. Her nostrils flared, unnoticed in the dark, as her arms tensed around you. The slight dampness of her hair cooled your neck, her face having come to nestle in the crook of your neck. She’d been so close and it was clearly tormenting her. “Hey, hey…” you whispered, trying to coax her out. After an initial resistance, she complied albeit reluctantly, the anguish in her eyes clear the second they were visible again. The pads of your thumbs brushed against her cheekbones, drawing your attention to the beginnings of a couple bruises. It was to be expected considering Caitlyn’s line of work and you’d learnt to be somewhat grateful for them - grateful that she’d suffered no worse, at least physically. “You’ll have another chance.” You reminded her as she closed her eyes again, even the touch of the woman she loved most doing little to soothe the fire swirling within. “But it was the perfect chance.” Cait insisted quietly, her voice somewhat hoarse from exhaustion and the effort of staving off a lashing out.

There was no lighting the mood when Cait was in this state, you knew that normally. It was foolish to try but you were tired, the typical tiers of consideration hazy and the attempt migrated from the mist in your mind like miasma, “… If at first you don’t succeed, hm?” Her exhale was heavy and long, caught in her throat - a restrained expression of the anger you had piqued. You didn’t understand what she’d been through, what she was feeling, what she wanted. You couldn’t. Regardless of how many ways she phrased it, how many times she repeated it, the understanding she seeked could only exist in an alumni of similar grief. “Sorry.” Still, she did not respond - inhaling deeply only when the exhale caught in her throat pleaded with a soft rasp and rattle. Her brows knitted together, she knew your intentions were good but it wasn’t enough to usurp the additional anger your words had lain over her soul. At her continued silence, her battle of restraint, you withdrew your hands - only for Cait’s eyes to snap open, a hand shooting out to grab a wrist. The grip was tight, desperate, as she guided your hand to return. “… don’t go.” Something she hoped was anything other than pity flashed across your gaze, “Cait…” you began, your other hand returning to her other cheekbone as the ministrations restarted. “I said, don’t go”, her tone firmer, slightly more certain of her deserving this time, so you shuffled closer. Your forehead against hers again, “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” “I’m sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for, you’re… there’s a lot on your plate right now.” Cait knew what word you’d intended to say. Mourning. It was true, it was evidently very real, and very raw but to hear it… to label it, to recognise it… she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face it yet - each time you had said it before causing her to deflate slightly - and yet it was an inescapable plague. She was mourning her mother, mourning the fact the chance she’d been hunting, waiting, praying for had been stolen… mourning herself, mourning Vi. It felt as if all she did was mourn. She hated it. “… I left Vi… to find her own way.” “… She can look after herself-” “I… I hurt her.” Your thumbs paused once more, your mind suddenly remembering her lingering hold on your wrist. That hardly sounded like Cait at all. “… Not seriously but…” her voice retreated to a whisper tinged with regret, “I wish I hadn’t.” “… She’ll understand.” Her face pushed deeper into your hand, her gaze falling from your eyes to your temple in a subtle aversion of eye contact. “You should have seen how she looked at me…” She almost sounded close to tears, “I…” It felt strange to open up about Vi with you. She did well in hiding it from you but Caitlyn’s feelings were…more confusing than she would admit. It was a matter of twisted luck in actual fact - the faint and rare gestures of affection you had seen were easily attributed to the fact that the pair were almost trauma bonded. “I just… how could she?” Her brows twitched, gaze stealing a quick glance into your own. How could she, how dare she, feel so important that Caitlyn’s anger splintered into herself? As she would come to learn, a blade cuts both ways. Her grip on your wrist had loosened by now, the inevitability of her exhaustion catching up. Even without the knowledge of the double-edged nature of her question, you did not know how to reply and a calm quiet blanketed the room. A chance for Cait to defocus, or at least try to.

The rest of the world at a standstill with you together, time blurred - protected by the curtains. At some point, maybe minutes, maybe hours later, Caitlyn relaxed properly into your embrace.

[nikachansstuff]

I recently came into contact with a post claiming that we don’t know for sure what Elain was referring as beautiful in the iconic scene:

I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.”

And to be fair, it’s true. It’s ambiguous. But I invite you to an exercise.

The author wrote in the same sentence a siphon, that it’s pretty similar to a jewel. And the character biggest insecurity right next to it. A imagery to empathize how opposite the two things are to each other.

The simple fact that Feyre considers that Elain could be calling Azriel’s scars beautiful should be enough for you to conclude that she is indeed referring to his flaw. Because to call a jewel beautiful? It’s ordinary, it’s predictable. What it’s not common at all is looking at a deeply scarred hand in offer, and breathe one word: “beautiful.”

But if you’re not convinced, what should make you understand the compliment is the fact Azriel blushed after hearing it. That’s it. A siphon is a weapon, would Azriel blush if someone praised Truth Teller? Or would he blush if a doe eye seer look beyond his biggest trauma and called it beautiful?

I will make my second prediction for the next book and say that this will be brought up. In a simple sentence, Azriel’s reverie about his hands, his insecurities and how Elain called it beautiful.

[emsdevs]

No Matter the Distance

Noah and Mateo AU

a/n: This idea randomly came to me, and I had to get it out. I'm sorry in advance for any pain this may cause to any lovers of the twins. The next part will be happier! Also, I will be putting out the timeline soon (masterlist form), but for reference, this takes place when the boys are about three and a half.

masterlist | noah and mateo au masterlist

The boys had been extra quiet since Nico left with the team for a roadie this morning. Usually, they would have worked past the initial sadness by now, but their voices hadn’t gotten any louder like they usually would be. You decide to cut up some fruit with their sandwiches for lunch, knowing that seeing the mix of strawberries, blueberries, and bananas on their plates always gets them a little extra excited. When you finish, you call them into the kitchen and then watch as they pull themselves up onto the chairs that are still just a little too tall for them. 

“Tank you, Mama,” Mateo tells you in a tone that usually only Noah would use when he’s feeling extra shy. Your worry increases after hearing his words and seeing the disheartened look on Noah’s face.

“Baby, is there something on your mind?” you question Mateo, the worry evident on your face.

“‘M fine, Mama,” he uses that same tone again, and even though you know he’s holding back, you decide not to push either of the boys on the subject. They eat their lunches quietly after that, not making much noise. When they finish, they whisper to you that they enjoyed their food before returning to their playroom, still rather silent.

You spend the rest of the cleaning and periodically checking on Noah and Mateo, trying to find an outlet to get the worry out. Soon, Nico called to check in, and though you didn’t want to worry him while he was away, you told him about the boys’ weird behavior.

“Ängeli, I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they just aren’t feeling well right now. You know Curtis’s kids got sick just a couple of days after they had that playdate with the boys,” Nico was quick to reassure you.

“You’re right, Neeks. I’m probably just overthinking. I just worry about them sometimes.”

“It’s fine, baby. Now, tell me about you. I wanna hear how my wife is doing.” You giggle before telling Nico about your day, the worry already gone from your mind. You talked to your husband for a while longer until you had to hang up to put the boys to bed. You helped them with their baths, helped them into their favorite jammies, and finally got them into their respective beds. You were sitting on the edge of Noah’s bed, getting ready to kiss his forehead and go tell Mateo goodnight in the same manner, when he asked a question that made your heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Mama? Does Papa still wuv us?” his voice is tiny, and it breaks you a little more. Mateo crawls into bed with his brother, clearly having the same thought.

“Of course he does, baby. Why would your Papa not love the two of you?” you’re fighting to hold back tears.

“He weaves us a wot,” Mateo shrugs his little shoulders, and he’s using that small, shy voice again.

“Oh, my sweet boys. Your Papa loves you both so so so much! It hurts him so much when he has to leave you both. You’re the lights of his life, both of us would be lost without you two, I promise. Please, don’t ever doubt that your Papa loves you. Or me, for that matter. We love you two more than either of you could ever imagine,” you’re crying at this point, but you don’t really care.

“You wuv us bigger than Juper?” Mateo was in a space phase, and just a few days ago learned that Jupiter was the biggest planet. Apparently, that was the biggest thing his little brain could think of.

“Yes, baby. Wayyyy bigger than Jupiter!” you drag out the word, reaching forward to tickle Mateo’s side. “And wayyyy bigger than a brachiosaurus!” you dragged out the word for Noah now, who was in a dinosaur phase, and began to tickle him as well.

“Otay, Mama!! No mo’ tickles!” it warmed your heart to hear Noah raise his voice a little.

“Yeah, Mama! No mo’ tickles!” Mateo was giggling too, finally using his normal tone of voice. Soon, they settled down for the night, so you went to get yourself ready for bed. As you did your night time routine, you couldn’t help but wonder how in the world you’d tell Nico. It would crush him to hear that the boys were worried he didn’t love them anymore. You both knew they wouldn’t handle his absence well, but neither of you thought it would ever get this bad. You decide against calling him tonight, deciding it would be best to tell him when he gets home tomorrow night, even though it will be pretty late. You go to sleep that night with tears streaming down your face.

You spend the next day trying to distract the boys from Nico’s absence. You take them to the park, take them to watch a movie, and even take them out for ice cream afterward. Is it great parenting? No probably not, but you can’t let them be sad anymore. You’re doing what you can to keep them in good spirits until Nico gets home. Eventually, you get the twins in bed, which goes much smoother than last night. You make yourself comfortable on the couch with a book, knowing you won’t be able to sleep until Nico arrives. It’s a little after 1:00 AM when he walks through the door, and you immediately stand up to hug him, trying to savor his happiness from coming home after a win while you can. After sharing a few kisses and talking about how you hate being apart, you know you have to tell Nico then, not wanting to hide it longer than you already have.

“I have to tell you something, but you can’t freak out right now okay?” you gently pull him toward the couch. You could see the nerves on his face, and the thought of telling him made you queasy.

“Ängeli, it can’t be that bad,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, knowing the last time he saw you this nervous was when you told him you were pregnant. 

“So the boys… they um they missed you a lot while you were gone, but it was a little um a little more than usual,” you were stalling and you knew it. 

“Okay… that’s not too bad? Did they say something I should be worried about? Did they act out? They’re usually on their best behavior for you?”

“They did say something,” you took a breath, knowing how much this would hurt your husband, “Nico, they asked me if you still loved them because you’re gone a lot.” The tears were flowing now, but you had no plans of trying to stop them, especially after seeing the tears about to fall from Nico’s eyes.

“They think I don’t love them?”

“No! At least, not anymore,” you cringe at your words. “I talked to them last night and told them we both love them very very much, and they seemed better today.”

“Oh my god. My sons think I hate them.”

“Nico, baby, they don’t think that. They’re just little. They couldn’t wrap their heads around why you have to leave so often. I explained that you don’t have a choice and hate it as much as them, if not more, and they understood a little bit better. It’ll just take some time for them to get used to it again now that they’re older and can think for themselves.”

“How do I even begin to make it up to them? I’m leaving again in a week and a half,” he lets out a sadistic chuckle.

“Nico, they still love you. You know that, right? You’re their favorite person. They could never be mad at you for long.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t just mad, Ängeli. They think I don’t love them.”

“How about you go and get ready for bed, and then we can grab the boys and let them sleep with us tonight? Would that help?” Your grasping at straws trying to keep Nico from feeling so guilty.

“Okay,” his voice is almost as small as Mateo’s was the day before. You finally move from the couch, moving to your bedroom so Nico can do his night time routine. The second he finishes, he’s giving you a look and heading straight for the boys’ room. The two of you don’t even attempt to wake them up, just lifting them from their beds and carrying them to yours. That’s the first night the boys slept in your bed since they turned three. 

Nico took the next day off, skipping practice even though you told him it wouldn’t hurt the boys. He spent the entire day bonding with the boys, making sure they knew he’d never stop loving them. They played games for hours in their playroom until you had to call them down for lunch. After some chicken nuggets, which the boys were very grateful for, they were off to to the backyard, running Nico to the bone. Honestly, this was probably more of a workout for him than practice would be. That night you could hear him reassuring the boys as he put them to bed, “Your Papa will always love you two. No matter how far apart we are or how many time I have to leave, my main goal is to always come home to you two. You’re my priority and my favorite part of my day. Papa loves you both so so much.” When he leaves their bedroom, you act like you didn’t hear anything and pretend not to notice the tear stains on his face. 

The love fests and spoiling didn’t stop that day, though. While he was going to practice and games, he made sure every second he had free was spent with his boys. He even let them go watch practice one day and run around Prudential Center. They were ecstatic to watch him play again, and you knew that every doubt had left their mind by now. Unfortunately, you could tell it would take Nico a while to completely get over it, but just like everything else, you two would tackle that together.

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @puckmedude

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[ask-rain-world-characters]

Scugs, how do you feel about iterator siblings? 👀

Survivor:

Monk:

Hunter:

Watcher:

Gourmand:

Artificer:

Rivulet:

Spearmaster:

Saint:

Enot:

Transcripts:

Survivor: "If you're talking about the pink and the blue ones (who I have unfortunately not yet learned the names of), then I know who you're talking about at least! I feel a little bad about the blue one since, well... I tried eat her white floaty things a couple times. Keyword being 'tried'. Monk stopped me before I even got to taste one. Apparently, eating the white floaty things hurts them. The smaller pink iterator, on the other hand, I feel no remorse for. I mean, he tore open my buddy Spearmaster's chest! That's freakin' bonkers! I don't like that guy."

Monk: "I-I'm not sure, the iterators kind of scare me a little bit."

Hunter: “If you mean Looks To The Moon and Five Pebbles, then you’re in luck! For I, the great and wise Hunter, have met them both!” “Pebbles was always a little stick in the mud, but I’m sure he meant well! I mean, why would he help me all those cycles back? When I was sent to revive Moon?” “And as for Moon… she was the kindest soul I’ve ever known! Sweet and elegant, and her lessons are a joy to listen to as well! Survivor also likes to visit her from time to time, and I can’t blame him! I just hope she's doing ok…”

Watcher: "I never met them before, but if the stories that I heard from others are true... I feel sorry for them. One wanting to escape the cycle, hurt the other in the process. Now he regrets what he did to the Moon, while rotting inside. Although both of them try to fix their relationship, the scars left from the past won't disappear so easily..."

Gourmand: "Siblings? You mean the two neighbors near the eastern shores? I only recently heard that Moon referred to herself as 'Big Sister'. Somehow, I doubt that they were created by the exact same people, and that they're siblings for real. But I have a feeling it wasn't meant to be understood literally, and was just a nod to how close Five Pebbles' structure was to hers. It seems like iterators use words a lot differently, than us. Which does make sense. We are very different, after all. And in terms of my feelings, I don't really have many, at least not towards them. I met Pebbles once, and he ushered me out rather fast. And I don't really plan on returning, with how dangerous him and his chambers were. Moon is a lot safer, and acts a little more mellow. Likely because she lost her powers. My clan needs me, and she lives quite far from us, so I can't do much for her - but I'm thankful there are other slugcats who can offer her company and aid. She does look like she needs it."

Artificer: "I've never seen the iterators as siblings, Pebbles is like family to me in a way but that's it, really. Besides I haven't really met the others, only slightly heard about them."

Rivulet: “Well, I like Moon, she’s fun to be around cause she listens to me a whole lot! Pebbles, I have warmed up to more recently especially after realizing how dire his situation was, however I remember being very upset with his mean demeanor before, especially towards Moon. Though in hindsight I understand where he was coming from, and well, that’s all I can say, since I don’t have many of the exact details and I've realized it isn’t really my place to speak. For me, if Moon forgives Pebbles, then he’s good in my eyes for the most part.”

Spearmaster: "Iterator siblings as a whole is a nice idea. They need that sort of thing for how lonely they can get. If you mean the specific ones I've met before? I couldn't tell you many positive things. Five Pebbles was heartless and cruel to me, and I won't forgive them for what they've done. Looks to the Moon was a more pleasant experience, even if bittersweet. Even still, climbing up to her chamber was a dreadful experience. I'd much rather stay with Suns for now."

Saint: "Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles? I haven't met the former, and I'm not too fond of the latter. But...I feel as though it's only a matter of time until our paths, or rather, our fates collide. Whatever that feeling means I'm not sure, but we'll see."

Enot: "I dunno, the only iterator I've seen is pebbles and he doesn't talk about his family drama or anything." "Speeeaking of which, I need to get my next order of Pebbsi."

[yumedoca]

HOLY SHIT, WHY IS THERE A DETCO REFERENCE IN MY URUSEI YATSURA??

Anyway, this reference is really funny and cute (and I think some episodes ago there was another reference but I'm not entirely sure for that one) since Detco also has a bunch of references to UY as well (this how I discovered Detco in the first place btw), so it's kind of like the UY remake is returning the favor :)

This is only one of them, there's a whole section in the UY wiki which lists most of them (which you can find here).

[waitingforsecretsouls]

Now why is the French translation hosted on Webtoon SO much better than the official English translation, holy shit...(I know the bar is not high, but still...Having access to such an improved alternative on Webtoon itself...)

[averlym]

"careful, or i'll quote that"

[divinekangaroo]

rewatching S6 in bits and pieces for current fic and ahhhhhhhhhh but the whole Jack, Diana, Mosley and Lizzie final dinner is so *viscerally* fucking satisfying on every sensory and intellectual and emotional level of consumption.

[apheliia]

hydrangeas (the name of my demon slayer fic!) snippet upon ye... since chapter 1 is like, insanely long, i can afford to give you guys a big snippet teehee. @soleillunne

“Onee-chan! Onii-chan, look!” the brighter of the twins, Muichiro, exclaimed as he ran up to them, stumbling cutely to a stop before thrusting his arm outwards and up towards them. In it, a little flower was clasped. “It’s for you!” Amusedly trailing behind the boy were both parents and his slightly older brother, whose hand was held only somewhat securely in his mother’s. They waved with a bright smile at their parents before turning their attention back to their brother and kneeling down. “Aw,” they cooed. “Thank you Mui. That’s really sweet.” “Yuichiro has one too, but he’s too shy to give it to you,” the boy commented as he gently, gingerly placed the flower behind their ear. “Oh?” they replied, a teasing lilt in their voice as they curiously shifted their gaze from the youngest twin to the eldest. Yuichiro puffed out his slightly flushed cheeks with childish irritation that they had to actively restrain themselves from cooing at. “Is that so?” “Don’t say that, Muichiro,” Yuichiro huffed, shaking his hand free of his mother’s grip and reluctantly shuffling over to them. “Here,” he murmured, tucking his flower behind their other ear. They stared. Yuichiro knew instantly that he was in trouble. ‘Trouble,’ of course, meaning nothing serious–only that they were going to relentlessly tease him until the event became overshadowed by other tease-worthy occurrences. “You know, that’s cute,” they teased, hands reaching out and gently patting each of their heads, “you guys are the cutest.”

[yoonstudios]

oh my fucking godddddd i wish i could come out to my parents

[longagoitwastuesday]

I actually like the last chapter. I think the ideas are very good. I have my qualms on how some things were managed, as I always do, but I think shonen authors get tangled in the expectations of a shonen to the point it jeopardises their writing, often even when they're not lacking in skills

[applejongho]

idk how to articulate this correctly but like 🥲 the whole "girl _____" rubs me the wrong way. ig the pilot girl _____, girl dinner, was innocent enough at first glance but now I've seen girl therapy (relaxing after a long day) and girl memory (approximating a time period based on your nails or hairstyle in a picture) and it's just. why are we doing this. why are we gendering normal things and why are we specifically gendering things that happen to be "ditzy," "silly," and sometimes "dumb"

[thesunmakesmetired]

I know i might have a weird taste for music but i didn't think it was that bad until i gave a lift to my brother and he kept begging be for a normal song after being forced to listen to nyan cat for not even 30 seconds...

And than two trucks started playing...

I just kept skipping through my playlist the whole ride and this is my fun playlist too :((