#oh kish....

[katiefratie]

He has gone back 🥺😭

[partyhardyontitanic]

First night sleeping with the goylfriend is going great so far

[incorrect-quotes-of-steel]

Kish: hax what are we thinking about?

Hax: rearranging his guts but by colour and texture and size cos of autism.

Kish: wonderful, remind me to never speak to you again ever.

[vriska]

tokyo mew mew new is killing me, like i understand sacrifices and changes must be made to fit the much shorter run time but its like THEY'VE RUINED A LOT OF WHAT WAS SO GREAT ABOUT KISH AND ESPECIALLY HIS BIG FIGHT AGAINST DEEP BLUE........ not nearly as dramatic, like it was good they fixed ichigo's thousand yard stare while he's fighting to lean up to her BUT

WHERE IS THE PIZZAZZ?? WHERE IS HIS DRAMATIC FUCK YOU ICHIGO IS MINE ........ this is not my kish

but also ichigo still has better chemistry with him than aoyama who remains the most bland flavorless love interest of all time like i just absolutely cant get invested in him and ichigo's romance

[freakfangstm]

Eddie, you’re so pretty -smooches top of his head- you be a good bat now

Oh whoa, what? Hello? He feels lips on his forehead but see’s nothing before him. Lips parted open slightly. “..O-Okaaay? I’ll try...?” Who you calling bat...

[kish-go-squish]

Bad Life Advice With Kish 45:

tell your irls what you go by online

[snekdood]

i just think hes neat

[milktiicup]

Can you make a Mr. Silver or Mr.Machete fic. I've barely seen any fics of them :(, just kinda been consuming what I can for a fic. The most common ones I encounter are Mr.Crawling and Mr.Scarletta (which I've finished all of them possibly)...

Any tag is good, fluff, angst, uh... smut? I'm just gonna read anything since I'm so content-deprived 😭

anatomy of feeling

He saw you as a research subject, and you doubt he even saw you as a friend. And yet, you let him cut you open, spread you apart and put you back together. The least he could do is kiss you in return, right?

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ hhelellooooo have this mr silvair fic realising he actually kinda likes u lol

warnings. AAAAAAAANGST, unrequited feelings (kind of), mr silvair typical research (u know what i mean), hurt/comfort, HAPPY ENDING! :D

You don’t mind being a test subject- you were too far gone to even consider going home anymore. You were human, you were monster- and now you’re somewhere in between that you don’t have anywhere you can exactly call home, but Mr. Silvair was ‘kind’ enough to lend you his room, a bed to sleep on, all in exchange of hacking your body to a mushy pile of meat from time to time!

It’s not an ideal situation to be in, head over heels on the guy who researches your body inside out- and it’s not like he even likes you- you’re not even sure if Mr. Silvair is one to understand romantic feelings, anyway.

You remember the first day he indulged you- missing human skin to skin contact, missing a real connection to somebody. Mr. Gap had so kindfully lent you a magazine from the human world, and you can only imagine he gave you it free of charge because you were so down. Of course, it just had to be a magazine promoting some romance movie, the lead couple all snuggled up and kissing on the front page.

You broke down crying. You mean, of course Mr. Gap meant well, but really? It was an embarrassing state you were in, fat tears running down your face and dropping onto your legs.

Mr. Silvair had found you, obviously. Your new home was a research room. 

“You okay?” he asked, lips tugging into a frown. “Pain? Hurt?”

“Sad,” you corrected, using your raincoat sleeve to dry your eyes. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Me sad. Miss home. Want home.”

Mr. Silvair kneeled down in front of you. “This home.”

You bit your lip, and looked away. “Miss…” Stuff? Things? “...stuff from home.” You gesture to the magazine. “Humans. Touch.”

“Miss this?” he questioned, taking a seat beside you. He picked up the magazine, eyeing the front cover through his bandaged eyes, and flipped through the pages momentarily. “What miss?” 

You pointed to the front page. “...This ‘kiss.’”

“Mouth touch?”

You nodded. “Mouth touch.”

“Kish?”

You shook your head. “Kisssss,” you hissed the words out. 

“Kisssss,” he repeated, your hiss echoing.

You giggled, cheeks still wet from your tears. You wipe your eyes once more. “Miss kiss. Miss hug. Miss… human touch.”

Mr. Silvair set the magazine down and faced you. He patted the spot next to him, and you scooched yourself over. He tilted his head at you, a smile on his face. “Me kiss you?” he asked, and you froze. “Kiss you, you happy. Interested in kiss.”

The weight of his words settled over you like an uncertain storm. You studied Mr. Silvair’s face. The suggestion caught you off guard, yet his sincerity was unmistakable.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. Could he even comprehend what he was offering? Did he understand what kissing meant to humans, or was he simply trying to imitate the concept based on your longing? He had always been practical, clinical even, in his interactions.

Who were you kidding? Of course he doesn’t understand. He saw you as a research subject, and you doubt he even saw you as a friend. And yet, you let him cut you open, spread you apart and put you back together.

The least he could do is kiss you in return, right? 

You nodded, and Mr. Silvair didn’t make a move to kiss you at all.

“Teach kiss,” he said.

Oh. Right.

His lips, cold as they were, carried a surprising softness, almost cushiony. It was strange, almost surreal, feeling such a delicate part of him when so much of your life in his presence had been sharp edges, instruments, and prodding hands. There was no pressure in the kiss, no demand- just a willingness to learn. It was methodical, curious, like an experiment he was determined to get right.

After that moment, his kisses were a frequent part of your life. He sliced you, diced you, and put you back together and kissed you so softly afterwards that whatever remaining pain you felt was an afterthought. 

And you still weren’t happy. His kisses were to keep you in check, to keep you from being a sad little subject. And of course, your body may not be human, but your feelings and heart were. It just reminded you that no matter how much he touched you, or when he learned where to put his hands as the kisses deepened, that he was still unattainable. He still wasn’t yours, but you were his. 

“You okay?” he asks, offering you a hand off of the table. “Mind flawed? Shape flawed?” 

“I’m okay,” you reply with a shake of your head, and grasping his hand. “Mind good.”

Mr. Silvair smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist and interlocking your fingers together. His head ducks down, silver hair falling off of his shoulder and presses his lips to yours. You close your eyes, indulge in the moment, and move your lips against his.

It hurt.

It was like pressing against a bruise you couldn't stop prodding- painful, but addictive in its familiarity. Because no matter how much you wished otherwise, you couldn’t forget that these kisses weren’t rooted in love or desire. They were a kindness, a calculated gesture to keep you "fixed," to stabilise his research subject.

And you couldn’t bear it anymore.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what his closeness did to you- how much it fed the ache of your loneliness while also making it worse. He didn’t understand the depths of your feelings, and he never would. For him, this was just another experiment, another connection to study and emulate. But for you, it was everything.

So you decided, silently and painfully, to stop kissing him.

The next time he leaned in, tilting his head expectantly, you pulled away ever so slightly. “Not now,” you murmured, offering a small, strained smile. He tilted his head, confusion flickering over his face, but didn’t press further.

At first, it seemed like nothing had changed. He continued his work as usual, observing, dissecting, and repairing you with the same meticulous care. But when the moments came- those pauses where he’d normally press his lips to yours- you’d shift away, redirecting the moment with a comment or a question.

And he noticed.

At first, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the way his brows furrowed whenever you turned away, the way his hands hovered near you, uncertain. He started lingering after procedures, watching you with an intensity that made your chest tighten. You could tell he was waiting, expecting.

One day, after yet another procedure, he hesitated longer than usual. His hand brushed against yours, his face mere inches away as he whispered, “Sad again?”

You shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “No. Not sad.”

He frowned. “No kiss,” he said, more a statement than a question. His voice carried a weight you hadn’t heard before. 

You swallowed hard.“I don’t need it,” you said softly, though your heart screamed otherwise. “I’m okay.”

He stepped back slightly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d let it go. But then he spoke, “Kiss… make you happy.”

Your chest ached at the simplicity of his words, the sincerity behind them. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know how much more it hurt to keep pretending, to keep grasping at something that wasn’t real.

“It’s not about that,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m okay. Really.”

Mr. Silvair didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded slowly, and turned away.

In the days that followed, he grew quieter. His usual precision faltered, his movements distracted. He still cared for you, still treated you with the same careful attention, but the pauses- the moments where he’d once leaned in for a kiss- were now filled with silence.

One evening, after he injected the medicine into your arm, you heard him speak from across the room. “No kiss… you not happy.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned your head to look at him. He sat at his desk, his hands clasped tightly together, his head bowed.

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. You blinked them back. Just how much more of this could you take before you break fully, and he couldn’t put you back together anymore? 

He looked up, his bandaged eyes meeting yours as though he could see straight through you. “Me not enough?” 

The words broke something inside you. Because he wasn’t enough- not for what you wanted, not for what you needed. But the truth was, you weren’t enough for him either. You couldn’t make a man who doesn’t understand like you. Any attempt was futile. 

So you stayed silent, letting the weight of your unrequited feelings hang in the air between you.

Days passed, and the silence between you and Mr. Silvair grew heavier, though neither of you addressed it directly. You carried the weight of your feelings alone, trying to convince yourself that distancing was the right choice. Meanwhile, his quiet melancholy lingered, each unspoken word from him carving a deeper ache in your chest.

But then, one evening, everything changed.

You sat on the bed, fiddling absentmindedly with the corner of your raincoat. Mr. Silvair had been working at his desk for hours, his silver hair catching the faint light as he scribbled notes and adjusted instruments. You thought he was too absorbed in his research to notice you, but suddenly, he turned.

“I…” he began, his voice hesitant, and he stood up, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

You glanced up, startled. “What is it?”

He stopped just in front of you. Your legs hung off the bed. “You… stay sad,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “No pain. No hurt. Shape good. Mind good. Why?”

The question hit you harder than you expected. You took a shaky breath and shrugged. “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Explain,” he pressed, his tone more insistent. “Want you happy.”

It was as if someone had dumped ice cold water on top of you. Want you happy. Why? He shouldn’t have cared in the first place if you were happy or not- he should’ve just cared that you were sound of mind, and not trying to kill everything in this place. Your hands shook. Your breathing picked up. Your heart hammered uncomfortably against your rib cage.

Your fists clenched. You scowled. “Why care?” I’m nothing but a subject. “Me… only research.”

Your question caught him by surprise. He frowns, and takes a seat next to you on the bed. Mr. Silvair is silent for a moment, processing, thinking. “Not-...” he stops himself. You gaze at him from the corner of your eye, his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. “Not only research.”

Great. Friendzoned. 

“You don’t understand,” you say, “You don’t feel like I feel, Mr. Silvair. You can’t understand.” And under your breath, you utter, “Told me that a million times already…” 

“Teach me,” he said simply. 

Your breath caught at his words. They were so simple, so stark in their honesty, yet they cut through all your swirling thoughts. Teach him? How could you possibly teach someone like Mr. Silvair something as complex, as human, as love? Did he even have the capacity for it?

You stared at him, analysing. Was he being… for real? His bandaged eyes stared intently at you as if he could see straight into the messed up web of your emotions. His lips, which had been both your salvation and your torment, were pressed together in a slight, thoughtful frown.

“Teach you…” you repeated, your voice trembling. “How?”

He tilted his head. “Teach ‘kiss,’” he pointed out softly. “Teach this. This feeling.”

You knew better than to believe in it. He didn’t know what it meant to love, not in the way you felt it, not in the way humans could. He was a scientist, a researcher, so lost in his experiments that he’d forgotten what it meant to simply feel without measuring it, calculating it, dissecting it into pieces. He wanted to understand, yes- but could he really? 

“Can’t…” you mumbled. “I don’t think I can. Cannot learn to feel. You don’t feel like me.”

Mr. Silvair’s frown deepened, and he reached out, his cold fingers brushing yours. The touch was hesitant, almost unsure, but it made your heart ache all the same. “Feel... something,” he said, voice low. “When you sad, me… don’t like.”

You stared at him, startled. It wasn’t a declaration of love, not by any means, but it was more emotion than you’d ever heard from him before. More than you thought he could express.

“Why?” you whispered. “Why do you care if I’m sad?”

He hesitated again, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. You half expected an Me interested in you, but… “You… important,” he said haltingly, as though the words themselves were foreign to him. “You hurt, me feel wrong. Dislike. Interested in you… care you.”

Your heart ached. “You’re serious?”

He nodded. “Want you happy. Interested… learn. Want learn.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, hope stirred in your chest. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t the fairy tale romance you’d dreamed of, but it was real.

“Then… let’s figure it out. Together.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Together.”

This time, when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was still awkward, still unsure, but it carried a warmth that hadn’t been there before—a promise, fragile but genuine.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you’d found a place to call home. Not in a room or a world, but in the arms of someone who wanted to learn how to care for you as much as you cared for him.

[cyborg-franky]

Prompt:

Hello!! Could I request some headcanons or whatever you want, where the reader is talking to one of the crew members or a friend about her crush and has a corny code name for him like ‘cutie pie’ and said cutie pie overhears and tries to figure out who the readers crush is and can’t figure it out so the reader keeps giving him clues but he doesn’t get it until it’s super obvious. Hope that makes sense. And thank you!!!

GN Reader - SFW

Ace

Ace first hears you talking about your crush when he’s rounding the corner, and see’s you talking to Marco who looks amused at the conversation topic.

“Just my little, Matchstick.” You sigh dreamily, having had a crush on Ace for what seemed like months.

He squinted as he stuffed his mouth at the dinner table when you talked to Izou this time about ‘Matchstick��� and what he’d apparently done that was so ‘wonderful’ and it was pissing him off.

Ace had no idea it was your nickname for him, everyone else knew and just watched as Ace stumbled around in jealous obliviousness.

Seemed you had to step up your game, whenever you knew he was in earshot you would test nicknames, more pointed than the last.

It wasn’t until ‘Flaming freckles’ did it click with him.

Others had been this close to grabbing Ace and shaking him, screaming in his face that you had a crush on him.

You both ended up skirting around one another for about a week before Pops burst the bubble and was basically like ‘now kish’

Marco

At first you try a subtle name because you aren’t sure you want Marco to know about your all-consuming crush just yet and Marco is very astute.

You swear with each smirk on his lips and raise eyebrow whenever he is near you that he just knows.

You wanna play it cool at first. Only talking about him vaguely. Calling him ‘Pina Colada’ when mentioning him in conversation.

He hears you and Jozu walking past his office window, hearing you gush about how ‘cute’ this Pina Colada was and for a good week he has no idea.

This gives you time to decide you want the good doctor to know you want to give his face kisses and hold his hand.

You and Ace are sitting outside his window one day and Ace hands you a slice of pineapple from his stack of fruit he’d acquired from the kitchen.

“I love pineapple, reminds me of my cute bluebird.” You hum happily and Ace just grimaces “Oh gross, shut up.” He huffed, nudging you.

“Oh, is that so?” you both look up at the window, seeing Marco peering down over the edge, amusement on his face, half-lidded eyes focused on you.  “Maybe the ‘bluebird’ like you too, yoi.”

“Oh, gross.” Ace repeats and stuffs an apple in his mouth wishing he wasn’t there.

Thatch

Every time you mention him in passing with others it’s always some bread-related pun or name which makes everyone side-eye you. You used all the puns you can, mentioned his ‘bread rolls’ and get Marco to snort coffee up and out his nose.

Thatch has no idea but can’t help feeling jealous at all the attention this person is getting from you.

It’s a little annoying and he feels his eyebrow twitch when you mention ‘My lovely baguette man’ and he’s very close to shaking Marco and Ace down for information, or rather lay at their feet and whine till either one of them gives in.

You thought he would have gotten it by now with how obvious and frankly obnoxious you are about the whole thing.

Marco and Ace just want the dance to be over.

One day you step into the kitchen with Ace, talking about this and that before you decide to make a very clear point “I really like his smile, his wonderful warm smile that’s as soft as the bread he’s baking.”

Ace drops his plate on the floor, a face that looks aghast at your bombshell subtly as Thatch whirls around, the biggest grin on his face.

“An’ I like yours darlin’!”

“Oh, thank fuuuck.” Ace groans as he collects the food off the floor.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Transcription under the cut for Martyn reacting to @kishdoodles' Treebark Week 2024 videos part one and two

Martyn: Where is it, where is it--mmmm. Uh, "Treebark Week 2024," is this the one. Oh, god, wait, hold on--wait wait, hold on, is this the one you're on about? Okay, right, this is--this has been sent in by Kish, uh, pushed by Cherri as well. "Treebark Week 2024," let's have a look. There's numerous videos here. (presses play)

Martyn: Wow, we're going back to old Windows Movie Maker days, okay, (the song 20% cooler begins playing in the background) This really makes me feel like I'm back in twenty--2010. Probably earlier than that, to be honest. (laughs) Oh, god. This really is old, old internet feel, isn't it? I'll tell you what, I'm so susceptible to this at the minute because I'm all in that Habbo sphere at the minute. Very funny. I can't say I've ever heard this song, but, this whole aesthetic and feel is great. "Just kidding they all died!" (laughs) Damn. Right, you ready for more?

(second video autoplays, the song 'Sugar Sugar' begins playing in the background)

Martyn: "Unregistered HyperCam," we love that. 'Sugar sugar,' oh wait, what? Have they made an RPG? What is happening here? I don't-I don't understand what I'm looking at. (singing softly) ''--wanting you. Honey," I don't know why we're devils, but, (listening to the song) Sure. This is the sort of animation I used to see (pauses video) when I was playing, like, old school Runescape when it wasn't old school, it was just Runescape. (resumes video) When I was playing Habbo, or MokiTown, or Do-Bit (?). (pauses video) Or when, when I used to think that "Stick Death" was like, really intense internet stuff. (resumes video) I don't know what--(laughs) Sorry False, our bad, our bad. Nice, (starts singing along softly) 'you were my candy girl--'

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 7

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Prequel (All Falls Down)

Series Masterlist

“Soo.” Elijah trailed off as he and Kiyana were driving to the restaurant. “That was your ex-husband huh?” 

“Yeah.” She said “I’m so sorry about that..” She apologized again. “He wasn’t supposed to be there.” she paused. “Him or his cousin.”  Elijah laughed. 

“It’s no big deal. Trust me. I’ve dealt with worse from my ex-wife. Her brothers are still on my ass to this day.” He chuckled again. 

“Oh you were married?” Kiyana asked, perplexed because he never mentioned it.

“Is that a problem?” Now Elijah was confused. Not even 10 minutes ago, he thought he was about to have a melee with her ex husband and his cousin. He cut his eyes over to her before looking back at the road when she didn’t answer. “Ki?” 

“No, it’s not a problem.” She shrugged. “I just thought you would mention it by now.” She paused, and turned her head to look at him. “It’s not a big deal though.” 

“You sure?” Elijah asked as he pulled up to a red light, now turning his full attention to her. “I don’t wanna start us off on the wrong foot.” 

“Ohh, there’s an us?” She teased with a smile, feeling her cheeks heat up. 

“There’s definitely an us. I normally have a rule that I don’t date coworkers but, it’s just something about you Kiyana.” There goes them butterflies again. She thought as their faces inched closer. He cupped her jaw and Kiyana felt her heart rate spike. Just as their lips were about to connect, the car behind them honked causing the both of them to jump away from each other. 

“Fuck!” Josh cursed as he watched Kiyana get into Elijah’s car and drive off. This was exactly what he was afraid of. He stomped past Joe and into his former home. “Samara!” He called out, softly though, still mindful of his sleeping children.  “Mara?!” He called out again, rolling his eyes as she strolled out of the kitchen munching on his children’s Doritos. 

“What?” 

“What restaurant did they go to?” He huffed when she shrugged and pushed past him to sit on the couch. “Samara ,please.” Josh begged. “I know I fucked up by doin' what I did. But shit, I can’t just give up and go let her fall in love with someone else. I won’t be able to take it. So please, just tell me what restaurant they went to.” 

Samara felt her hatred for Josh slip away. While they were never close she still considered him a friend and one thing about Samara was that she hated seeing her friends hurting. “Fine.” She sighed out. “But you have to answer my question first.”  Josh nodded immediately. 

“Aight, whatever you wanna know.” 

“Why did you do it? What made you cheat on Kiyana?”  oh Josh gulped.  “Josh?” 

“I don’t know. “ He said and Samara sucked her teeth. “I- we were arguing about her not listening to the doctor about not stressing. I just wanted her and Kairo to be okay.” He walked over and sat down on the couch next to her and put his head in his hands.  “You know the same thing happened when she was pregnant with Kehlani.” Neither one of them heard Joe as she entered the house and stood right by the entrance to the living room, listening to their conversation. “Her auntie died and..” He blew out a breath. “She wouldn’t relax, she wouldn’t just stop and not stress. I already have one dead kid. I didn’t want another.” 

Samara nodded, remembering how Kiyana blamed herself for years for the death of Kehlani. “So that’s why you cheated?” Josh scoffed and shook his head. 

“Hell no. I just- I wanted to vent. Everyone around me kept talking about how Kiyana felt and..” He paused and sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I- it’s selfish but damn, Kenneth was like a dad to me too. When Kish and my mom were going through it Ken and Ms Imani welcomed me with open arms. I just wanted to vent to someone who wouldn’t say oh well it’s Kiyana’s dad. And Shanté was there at the right  time. It wasn’t my intention to start the affair, I just wanted someone to talk to and things went too far.” 

Joe let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He couldn’t intervene with Josh and Kiyana nomore. He had already done enough damage by sleeping with Kiyana and truth be told, Josh was his favorite cousin and even if Joe thought that Kiyana should be with him, he didn’t want to hurt his cousin more than he already did. 

“The Grand Marlin.” Samara said after a minute of silence between her and Josh. “He took her to The Grand Marlin.” 

Josh pulled Samara in for a hug and thanked her. “Do not fuck this up again Joshua. I swear on my life I will make sure she fucks every single one of your family members.” Josh sucked his teeth and pushed her away from him. 

“Damn Samara.” She shrugged and pointed towards the front door.

“Go, before she falls in love with him or something.”  Josh nodded and rushed towards the front door, only to be stopped by Joe blocking it. 

“Uce come-on. Don’t do this to me right now. You proved your point already.”  Joe shook his head and put his hands up defensively. 

“I just wanted to apologize to you Josh. You my family and I should have never took it there with your wife.” Josh sucked his teeth. 

“You don’t mean that shit. What you want me to go get my wife back so you can fuck her again.” Josh felt the urge to pummel Joe so he took a deep breath. “ Getcho’ big ass out my way Joseph.” 

“Josh, this is the most serious I've been with you in years. I’m sorry.” Josh narrowed his eyes at Joe. Not believing him in the slightest. But he couldn’t worry about Joe right now, right now he needed to get to Kiyana. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Kiyana smiled over at Elijah as he pulled out her chair for her. “I’ve never been here before.” 

“No problem Ms. Jackson. I plan to give you a lot of first time experiences” He winked back as the waiter came over and asked for their drink orders. 

Elijah kept a smile on Kiyana’s face all throughout dinner. And if Kiyana was being honest, this was the best date she had been on in years. 

Her weekly ‘dates’ with Josh were just them going out to dinner, nothing special or spectacular. He stopped making her feel special a long time ago and she had just gone with the flow because she loved him. 

“Hey that’s your ex-husband right?” Elijah’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she turned her head in the direction he was pointing to see Josh arguing with the maitre’d and pointing in her direction. 

“Oh my god.” She muttered, covering her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing. Just give me two minutes please.” She said, biting her lip as she stood from the table and walked over to where Josh was making an ass out of himself. 

“All you had to do was let me through dickhead.” He sneered at the man, who was only trying to do his job. 

“Joshua.” Kiyana hissed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him outside of the restaurant. “What are you doing?!” 

“Tryna stop you from making a mistake. I’m so fucking sorry Key.” He whispered, cupping her face in his hands.  “About everything. About Shanté.” He swallowed hard when he saw her flinch at Shanté’s name. “About not sticking up for you at J’s party. About everything.” He repeated and Kiyana started shaking her head. 

“No.” She laughed as tears started to well up in her eyes. “You can’t just come here and ruin my date. You have no right Joshua.” She pushed him away from her. “You cheated on me, there is no apologizing for that, not after the shit I put up with from you and your family for years.” 

“Kiyana please - “ 

“Go home Joshua.” She muttered, blinking her tears away. She was done crying over him. “I’m trying to move on, you need to do the same.” Josh felt as if Kiyana just reached into his chest and pulled his heart out, as she gave him one last look before turning and walking back into the restaurant to continue her date. Leaving him heartbroken and empty. 

🙃

Y'all think Josh can actually win her back or y'all think Kiyana is over him and nothing her can do will fix or change anything. ?

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

A/N: Sorry this took two weeks 😭. I was just feeling a bit stuck with this chapter. Hopefully chapter 8 won't take another 2 weeks.

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@simpin4pixels @mindairy @that-one-anxious-mango @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @vebner37

@trashbin-nie @adoreesun @meggylynnloves @shayaaaaaaa @angiedawn02

[kishs-kleanup]

"Hm. Their room should.. be this one, here." He knocks. Hopefully for an answer from them knowing his own predicament with his trusty and only lab coat in a hanger, which was of course still covered in ichor in that first expedition. (Despite the lack of wounds on his legs that would've caused it anyways) @kishs-kleanup

Startling a little, spinning around in their chair to face the door. "Oh- Doors unlocked, feel free to open it!" Now idly spinning in their chair as they wait on the door to be opened, laid across it on their side. Legs draped over the armrest and everything. Thanks, Kish, you could atleast sit normally for once.

[ferrocyan]

ffxiv write day 3 - tempest

"the waves crashed against the port, seafoam spraying our faces every second, but me and kishe held tight onto the ropes. i climbed first and he followed close behind, we were pretty much crawling to get up to the mast, it felt like aaaages i was clinging to the rigging," renda drawled as she drew on her story. she looked over her captive audience, branden had long since fallen over to his side, nyelbert not far behind now murmuring nonsense into his cup, and lamitt and cylva were up to their own quiet talk behind her back. only ardbert was trying his best to stay awake, so renda leaned closer to him, "so then... uuhh, where was i...?"

"up on the mast...?" ardbert had the look of complete bewilderment which made her giggle. she was way past tipsy, too. that made it hard to think.

"ohh yeah. so we fixed up the sail.. or something. but then i looked up, at the clouds--and even though it was s'posed to be totally dark, i could see a star. just one prick of light in the middle of the storm. and i thought... i thought, oh, it's gotta be over soon! we just had to go west, where the star was. i could just tell somehow. so i went down and told--"

lightning flashed, then thunder ripped through the air. renda flinched and lost her balance, tipping back until she bumped into cylva. they were all crammed close together in the one tent they had, under the torrent of rain, their noisy bunch of ragtag adventurers. renda felt cylva's arm hold her steady and grew warmer.

lamitt used the lull to tell the two of them to settle down, already, and ardbert protested that renda had to finish her story. "you--you did get out, after that," he asked, "right?"

"'course we did!" said renda. he cheered, earning a kick on the shin from nyelbert. she told him the star had been the torch of a lighthouse, and her family reached a safe harbor at the end.

she left out that in doing so her uncle tistt had fallen overboard and drowned. that part wasn't fun, and renda was used to leaving out the bummers out of her stories. otherwise she wouldn't get cheers like this.

as lamitt fussed over ardbert and the others drifted off to drunken slumber, renda leaned onto cylva and looked up to the roof of the tent. she wanted to go outside right now and look up. see if she could see stars behind the stormclouds again.

[osha-janitor]

Jax is wandering the halls when he bumps into Kish, almost literally so given he was staring at his phone and not watching where he was going.

"Oh, um, hey. Didn't see you there lol. You're Kish, right? The Janitor." They stammer out an introduction awkwardly, trying not to embarrass themself.

@two-halves-dragon

Kishar blinks, then smiles politely. "Ah, That Would Be Me, Though I Prefer To Be Called Janitor Or Myrto By People I Have Just Met. I Assume You Have Heard Of Me From Other People Around Here, Yes?" They pause. "Ah, How Should I Address You, By The Way?"

[fivebrights]

Emotion Booth | Songs for Stanley, the Narrator, and many of the endings.

An expanded ver of the original fanmix, because I finally got to play TSPUD and it permanently rewired my brain the same way TSP did way back when. Happy 4/27; Let's Begin Again.

▶Listen (Spotify)

(tracklist & annotations under the cut)

[SIDE A] 1. Existential Crisis Hour! (Kilo Kish) [Intro/Confusion Ending] 2. Watch the Show (M. Ward) So tomorrow on your way into work, who will be wearing the emperor's clothes? 3. Soundproof Box (Ami Saraiya and the Outcome) Living behind these walls it feels like living in a soundproof box. 4. You're Alive (ANIMA!) [Apartment Ending] Sidewalk walkers, empty vessels, task completers / Go through the motions, keep repeating. 5. In the Glass (OK Go) [Real Person Ending] I tried to call out to him but the glass was perfect. 6. A.A.A. (Squalloscope) Can you do me a favor? Can you give me one cent for everything that doesn't make sense? 7. Crazy (Gnarls Barkley) [Mariella Ending] I remember when I lost my mind / Even your emotions have an echo in so much space. 8. Vein of Stars (The Flaming Lips) [Zending] They'll glow from above our heads / Nothing there to see you down on your knees. 9. Vertigo (The Guggenheim Grotto) [Powerful Ending] It's not that I fear the fall or crushing my bones / I fear the desire to heed the call of that unknown. 10. Humpty Dumpty (AJR) He said, "Screw it, I'mma smile right through it, and I'll scream when no one's around." 11. Why (Andrew Bird) Why'd you do that? You shouldn't have done that. 12. Complaint Department (Lykke Li) [Countdown Ending] Me oh my your luck seems to be no more / If you want to complain, I'm not the complaint department. 13. The Cruel, the Kind and the Bad (Psapp) [Museum Ending] He's taken all your best years away, but he's all that you can find. 14. The Great Escape (Patrick Watson) [Escape Pod Ending] Looking for a way home, looking for the great escape.

[SIDE B] 15. Good Old Desk (Harry Nilsson) [intro] 16. Honest Feedback (Saint Motel) Of all the illegal ways to take someone's life, there's one just as sharp and it's sharp as a knife / it's called honest feedback. 17. Longform (The Dodos) [Theme for the Memory Zone] To place an installation now for all to come and bring what they think about. 18. Eight Seven (Psapp) Though I call you won't reply / You watch me rooting through each door, you watch me lie. 19. Alive Alone (The Chemical Brothers) [Skip Button Ending] No way of knowing if [he's] ever coming back. 20. Here for Good (Jason Lytle) [Epilogue Ending] I'm here for good. 21. X-Rays (Gomez) We didn't turn it on, but we can't turn it off. 22. Since I Left You (The Avalanches) [Freedom Ending] Since I met you, I found the world so new. 23. The End Has Begun (Loudon Wainwright III) [Figurines Ending] We've been here before, you know the signs / The looks and the language, the gestures, the lines. 24. Helplessness Blues (Fleet Foxes) What's my name, what's my station? Oh, just tell me what I should do. 25. Lonely Town (Vulfpeck) He's the mayor of lonely town, population: one. 26. Hallucinating - Mariachi Ver. (Elohim) [Theme for the Infinite Hole] 27. ICE CREAM FEVER (Tomoyuki Tanaka, FPM) [Secret Disco Ending]

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Jessie's Sick Day

Fandom: Original Fiction Summary: A cold begins hitting Jessie at work, so he heads home to wait for his mate to get off work to come home and take care of him. CW: mess!! stuffy talk, cold sneezes, nose ring play? idk, accidental inducing, caretaking, fluff Word Count: 3,010 words MINORS DNI Author Note: bonus! 2 posts in 1 day lol i've been sitting on this one a WHILE but hey i actually do mean it this time with the mess warning like... i took out some lines while editing because i got anxious someone would see my mess warning and go "oh usually Bex isn't too bad!" and then go "oh fuck nope this is too much"

Ever since he’d woken up this morning, Jessie had felt just a little… off, like something wasn’t quite right. By the time his lunch break at work rolled around, he realized he really wasn’t hungry. He choked down his sandwich and baby carrots before dropping back resolutely into the receptionist’s desk chair. 

Jessie scrolled through what else he had to do today with his elbows on the desk and his chin resting on his hand. 

Every day for work, Jessie flipped his nose ring up into his nose to look more professional and then flipped it back down when he left for the day. It was simple and easy. Except sometimes it tickled his sensitive nose. 

“Ihh-kish! Kitch!” He assumed that’s all it was when he sneezed at first. But then came the runny nose. Worry began to creep into Jessie’s mind as he started to sniffle. He only ever got a runny nose when he was sick. “Shit…” He swore softly and carefully rubbed at his nose with a finger. 

He exhaled slowly and felt his eyes start to water as the tickle reignited with no trouble whatsoever. “Ihhiihh-! Iihksh! Kishew!” He sniffled against the wetness threatening to come out of his nose like a river. 

“Bless you,” Crystal, his coworker, said haphazardly as she tossed a box of tissues at him. They bounced off his shoulder and onto the floor. He pressed his finger to his nose and bent to grab the box before sitting back up. 

Jessie pointedly sniffled as he took out some tissues and pressed them to his face to blow and wipe. “Ugh. Thanks, sorry. Feeling kind of off… maybe I should go home before this gets worse. I don’t wanna infect you or anyone who comes in to get their teeth cleaned.”

Crystal raised her brows when Jessie said he was feeling off and gestured to the door. “Go on. Get. If you’re sick, get at least ten feet far away from me, Caddel.” She demanded and kicked his bag out from underneath the desk on her side over towards him, sliding across the floor. 

A dull pain starts in his head as Jessie bends to pick up his bag with a sniff. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going, germaphobe.” He teased and sniffled as loudly as he could just to be irritating.

“Ugh, gross!” Crystal whined and threw a wadded-up sticky note at him as he left the office. 

The bitter wind whipped through Jessie’s scrubs and coat, making him shiver and sniff thickly as his nose tried to run more. “Fuck s’cold-” He swore as he trembled, fumbling with his keys to get into his shitty Forester. The engine hummed to life finally, and he shakily made sure the heat was on full blast, revving the engine a few times like Hale had shown him. 

“Iihkshew! Kish! Iiihksh!” 

Jessie sneezed into his cupped hands and groaned, rubbing at his nose for a moment, which just moved his hidden septum piercing. It sparked the tickle back up again, and Jessie hitched all over again, “Ihhih-! Ih! Eh? IckShew! Iiishew!” 

Again, his sneezes caught into steepled hands, and Jessie groaned at the mess he could feel all over them. He quickly fumbled in his center console for some tissues, wiping off his hands and face with a liquid sniffle. He got out his phone next to send his boyfriend a quick text. 

Coming home early. Bring home Gatorade plz. Ily <3 – Jes

He threw the SUV into drive and sniffled as he pulled onto the roadway. The drive home was uneventful, save for some more sneezes that seemed to leave him increasingly congested. Overall, he felt relatively okay, just tired, a little foggy, sneezy, and congested. 

When he got home, he tossed his keys into the bowl by the door and finally sat to take his boots off. He felt exhausted. He managed to get his coat and boots off before dragging himself to the couch, dropping down face-first into it with a groan. 

He sniffled and scrunched his nose, nostrils twitching before- “IikSHH! Ugh! Fuck me!” His grumpy shout was muffled by the cushions before he turned his head to rub his palm against his nose. “Mmf…” 

Hale… He wanted his boyfriend. With a grunt of effort, Jessie reached back into his pocket to fish out his phone and checked the time and his messages. There were no messages, and it was still five hours before Hale was set to get home. A soft little whine left him as he tried to wiggle back onto the couch, pressing his back up against the seat so it might feel like someone was holding him. 

For a moment, Jessie fumbled to grab a blanket off the back of the couch and managed to pull down the dark blue one. He breathed a sigh of relief as he gave a small shiver. Getting a fire started sounded like way too much work, and their damn cabin was heated by a wood stove. Usually, Hale was around to do it, and while Jessie could, he didn’t have the energy right now. He just wanted a nap. 

Once the blanket was all situated, Jessie barely blinked his eyes closed, and he was fast asleep, curled up under the thick blue blanket. Eventually, his head was tucked under the blanket to stay warm as the cabin grew colder when the sun set.

Jessie was startled awake with a yelp when the door opened and closed, blinking blearily as he peeked from his blanket cocoon at the intruder. “Hale?”

“Hey, sickie… just me…” Hale whispered softly, fumbling with his snow-covered boots before hurrying over to Jessie with his coat still on. What Jessie wouldn’t give to smell Hale’s sweet scent of fig, leather, and tobacco, but when he tried, all he got was a gurgling sniff. “Jesus, pup, you take anything yet?” Hale whispered after that sniff.

“D’no…” Jessie moaned, cringing as he heard his voice and whimpering again. “Just wanted you.” His nostrils twitched slightly, red and chapped as his nose had been running in his sleep. “Ihh-! H-Hale… godda- IiihkSHh!” He pitched forward into his hands to keep from spraying mess all over his poor boyfriend. Instead, it clung to his hands, and he kept them pinned to his face. “Oh, by god- that’s so gross… I’b so sorry.” 

Hale chuckled softly and ruffled Jessie’s hair before standing to move from the couch and grabbing Jessie one of the many boxes of tissues they kept around the house. What with Hale’s allergies and Jessie’s immune system, they went through more than their fair share of boxes. “Gross? You’re the one who is into this kinda stuff; don’t think I forgot.” He teased, tone soft and loving. 

“Iihpkshew! Ugh, it’s hotter when it’s you sdeezi’g.” Jessie pouts and cleans his face and hands up before slowly sitting up. The shift in position only makes his congestion shift, too. He’s quickly pressing more tissues to his face as he- “Isshew! Iksh! Hiish! EiiksHEW! Ngh…” He groans and gives his nose a tentative blow before looking up at his boyfriend pitifully. 

Finally, Hale seemed to be shedding his coat and then gently ran his fingers through Jessie’s hair. “Bless you… hey.” He looked at him with a slight frown. “Something’s not right here,” he said thoughtfully, frowning at his boyfriend as he realized something was different. “Hang on, where’s your nose ring? Did you sneeze it off? Is that possible?”

A surprised, congested laugh left Jessie, and he shook his head some. “D’no, oh sweetheart, d’no. I flip it up for work, rebe’ber? I guess I forgot to flip it dowd sidce I left early today…” He reached up to try to flip the jewelry back down but only seemed to instantly irritate his sensitive nose. 

“Iiihksh! Eikshew! Huh- eh-! Fuck…” Jessie sniffled and tried again, slower but with similar results. “Kishew! IkISHEW! What the fuck.. I cad’t get it.” He pouts, red and glistening nostrils flaring and twitching still. 

Hale nudged Jessie to get him to scoot back on the couch and straddled the more petite man. With Hale in his lap like this, Jessie couldn’t help but rest his hands on Hale’s impossibly muscular thighs. Fucking Christ, how did he ever get so lucky? he wondered to himself. 

“Hold still.” 

“What?” Jessie asked, blinking blearily up at his boyfriend, who was gently tipping his head back to look into his nose. “Hale, what the fucgk-“ 

“Just hold still, you big baby,” Hale said softly and carefully used his pinky to ever so gently fish Jessie’s nose ring down in one swift motion. 

The move still sparked the worst tickle Jessie had ever felt; his eyes watered, and he immediately pitched forward into Hale’s chest with unrestrained sneezes, “HihhISH! IisHEW! IishKEw! EhhkSH! EhhtkshEW! ISHHEW! Oh, by fucki’g god…” This time, a thick, gurgling sniffle came from Jessie, and he whimpered when he realized he’d sneezed all over Hale’s work shirt. A wet patch was left where Jessie had lost all control. “Shit. Hale, I ab so sorry. I’ll wash it. I probise.” He apologized quickly.

But Hale was just smiling down at him with a soft expression on his face. “You don’t have to do shit, Jes. You’re sick. Relax.” He said and flicked Jessie’s mess-covered nose ring playfully with the tip of his finger before pressing some tissues into Jessie’s hands.

“IiihkISH!” Jessie sneezed into the tissues after that flick and blew his nose gently. The sound of it was wet and satisfying. “Ass.” He teased Hale and sniffled just a bit. “Are you home for the weeke’d?” Some of the congestion had abated, and there was a note of hopefulness to his voice as he asked, knowing that sometimes Hale got called in for a weekend shift or two. If Jessie had it his way, Hale would stay wrapped up with him in all of their blankets, watching movies all weekend while they had tea and soup and hot, steamy showers. 

Hale nodded and grunted as he scooted back off the couch, his ranger uniform apparently not particularly comfortable for cuddling in. “I am, but let me go get changed first.” He stretched his arms up over his head with a groan. “I’m beat, and you need your Gatorade, sickie.” 

“Aw, you remembered?” Jessie cooed and rubbed at his nose, starting to wiggle out of his blanket a bit more, which caused him to shiver. 

With the blankets now down around his waist, Hale could see Jessie had gotten home and crashed on the couch. He was still in scrubs from the dentist’s office, not altogether bad for napping in. “I did. C’mon. You can have a few sips, then come get changed with me. Won’t that be nice? Get nice and comfy and in bed? I’ll even bring you soup.” 

Another gurgling sniffle came from Jessie as he took his boyfriend’s offered-up hand to stand up, his head swimming a little for the first few seconds upon standing. “Mmf- as lo’g as you start the fire add warm this place up I dod’t care where I lay dowd.” He admits before another more violent sneeze wracked his frame. “KISh-uh! Ugh, fuck, that ode hurt…” Thankfully, Jessie had managed to stifle, but now his nose was running again.

“Bless you, sickie,” Hale whispered. “For that sneeze and all the ones I’ve missed.” He added as he brought Jessie to the Gatorade, letting him sip it some before Hale just scooped up his boyfriend to carry him over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs. 

A somewhat undignified and startled noise escaped Jessie as he was picked up by his boyfriend. “Just because you have the snf! snfff! muscle to do this does dot mean you have to!” He laughed a little and swatted Hale’s ass as he was taken upstairs, only to be gently laid down on the bed. Usually, Hale would toss him, but not when Jessie was sick. It was sweet, and it warmed Jessie, who had often been too busy taking care of his siblings all his life to really get a minute to look after himself. 

Something like a barking laugh escaped Hale and then quieted as he began taking off Jessie’s work clothes for him. “Why not? If I got the muscle, I might as well use it to take care of my poor, adorable, sick boyfriend.” He teased and tossed Jessie’s work shirt into the hamper before leaning down to kiss over his chest, even giving a little nip. His lips linger a moment to trace the scars just below his pectorals with delicate flesh. Then he tugged his pants off, swapping them for extra soft sleep pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. 

Then Hale changed too, out of his mess-soaked work shirt and mud, snow-soaked pants and into his usual boxers and t-shirt. Bastard always runs so warm, Jessie thought fondly as he watched Hale lovingly. As good as Hale looked in his Ranger uniform, Jessie definitely preferred him like this… relaxed and comfortable and with so much exposed skin that Jessie just wanted to sink his teeth into.

“Jes?” 

Hale’s voice suddenly broke through the hazy daydream he’d been having, and Jessie looked up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. “Hmm?” The soft hum only irritates Jessie’s already sensitive sinuses, and his eyes water, squinting while his nostrils flare just before he throws an arm over his face. “IikisshHUE! Huh… ugh, sorry, babe.” 

There was a concerned look on the taller man’s face as he reached forward to cup Jessie’s cheek and jaw. “Bless you, puppy. Let me go get the fire started and bring you some soup. You get comfy in bed and just wait for me here.” He urged the slightly smaller of the two, gently pushing his boyfriend back towards the headboard.

It didn’t exactly take much to convince Jessie, who quickly slipped under the blankets while the wind outside their cabin howled. It wasn’t a drafty cabin by any means. Hale ensured that, but temperatures outside still made the ones inside plummet if there wasn’t some kind of heat source. Even the hairs on Hale’s body were starting to stand on end. “Go on, h-hhhandsome. I’ll behave.” 

Without another word, Hale pressed a soft kiss to Jessie’s forehead and padded downstairs. His bare feet were quiet on their old, worn wooden floorboards. It was a good twenty to twenty-five minutes before Hale returned with soup as the cabin began warming up. “I brought chicken dumpling. It was all we had in cans, and I figured you just wanted to eat and get back to sleep. Not wait ten years for me to try and make soup.” His voice was light and teasing, but they both knew Hale wasn’t fast in the kitchen. The silver wolf had once taken a kitchen job, and Jessie remembered what utter hell that had been.

Some old vices had risen to the surface uncomfortably quick with how stressed Hale had gotten, and they’d both agreed that line of work just wasn’t for him. Cooking at home when he had the time to do so was just much safer for everyone involved. 

Now though? As the other wolf brought a tray to him in bed, Jessie could practically see his tail wagging at a job well done of caring for his mate. “C’mere…” Jessie whined softly, making grabby hands at his boyfriend, who agreeably leaned closer so he could press their lips together. 

Hale let out a soft, appreciative hum at the kiss and melted right into it. Though he did still keep it short, “You’re gonna get me sick, pup.” He warned softly and kissed the very tip of Jessie’s nose, igniting a tickle in the irritated pink appendage. 

“T-thought you didn’t get siihh sick…” That tickle turned into a persistent buzz. Usually, Jessie wasn’t quite so sensitive, but his nose was always overly sensitive when he got colds. “H-Hih-Hale… I’m gonna…” They were still face to face, and suddenly Jessie felt a warm, callused hand grab his chin to tilt his face up as Hale straightened up.

A quiet but deep chuckle left the blonde, “You gotta ask if you want a tissue, puppy.”

Another dizzyingly sharp inhale sucked in through Jessie’s lips and nose as he hitched, “C-Can I hhiih… have a tiiiIKSHiew! Oh- Ixxkshhuh! HiiiIKSHiew!” Warm mess sprayed against Hale’s wrist and arm, leaving Jessie mortified as he tried to snuffle back the mess on his upper lip.

“Bless you,” Hale whispered and snatched a tissue from the box on the bedside table to bring it to Jessie’s face, gently swiping away the mess. It made Jessie’s pink and sensitive nostrils twitch, but he gave his nose a rough rub once Hale backed off to try and squash the tickle trying to resurface so soon. “Thagks…” Even so embarrassed, he leans into Hale’s touches. 

“Welcome,” Hale murmurs in response before kissing Jessie’s hairline softly. “And good boy asking for your tissue.”

Warmth flooded Jessie’s chest, and he smiled at the praise and closed his eyes to relish in it. That’s when a warm arm snakes around him and pulls him down into the bed. A congested little gasp slips from Jessie as he’s pressed to Hale’s warm chest, and a shiver rattles him from head to toe. “Holy shit, you’re like a god dabd furdace…”

A little snort of amusement left Hale, making some strands of Jessie’s hair dance as the warm gust of air tickled him. “Perks of being me, s’pose.” He mumbles and then pauses to yawn wide, giving Jessie a little squeeze as he does. Then he tugs the sheets and blankets up over them both. “Get some rest, sweetpup. I gotcha.”

The promise was one Hale made often, and Jessie needed to hear more than anything. He was safe, home, and his boyfriend was holding him close. Even if he felt like shit, they’d get through this. They always did, and they always would.