#onto posting about happier things!

[waywardmillennial]

watchergate & where we go from here...

To start at the end, I purchased my annual Watcher TV subscription on April 20th because I wanted to support them when it felt like so many others were not. I'm cancelling another subscription to make this work with my budget, and I'm very happy with this!

Watcher has always made high quality, entertaining content that I love, and I'm happy to support them as they try to grow like they've always wanted to so they can bring on more creators and give us more diverse art.

So, moving forward, I'm going to be posting about Watcher TV when it comes out - spoiler parties with the sexy moots! - and I'll be blocking any and all haters I see. 💜💜💜

(read more bc ofc this got long)

To walk this back and give a little history/context, *ahem* [sotto Byron voice]

April 12, 2024: Watcher announced they had a surprise coming for us in a week's time. The news came in the form of a very spirited ad-read in the Mystery Files s2 finale. And afterwards there were a few blogs posting about it, but I commented to a friend that my dash had been devoid of Watcher posts (oh, how that sweet summer child would grow to long for a day such as that).

There were some corkboard theories, and I broke down the new logo design, but nothing big happened until the following Thursday.

April 18, 2024: I saw the leak for the announcement. It was on reddit and a sock tumblr blog was made sending the link out to people. I didn't post it or share it because it wasn't my news to share. I wanted to wait to see how they were going to explain it.

Maybe I should have said at the time (but it's fine if you don't believe me now I guess) but I was hoping Watcher TV would become like their enhanced Patreon replacement, where the new shows like "Puppet History Karaoke" and "Road Files" would be exclusive, and some other perks like early access. [note: if Apollo is laughing at him right now, I'd kindly request he stuff that red ball somewhere Helios doesn't shine]

I imagined some people would be mad at the streaming news but it didn't prepare me for how bad it would get...

April 19, 2024: Most of us know what happened. The announcement was not well received. Watcher's silence right after wasn't helping, but I don't think many people were willing to give them any grace for their pre-planned trip to the UK and instead demanded answers immediately.

Do I think maybe their announcement could have been timed better? Or maybe given a different tone? Perhaps. But either way what they were trying to communicate was not what people chose to hear, and the response from many viewers was, to choose a very formal phrase here, absolute bonker banana balls insane.

The main anti-streamer "arguments" I saw basically boiled down into these categories:

"high production tv quality content is what they want to make, but we don't want that - we only want them to sit in a blank room and talk to each other with blue and yellow text like the bfu days!!"

"Steven's the one behind all this bc he's rich and greedy and only eats gold"

"they already make enough money off their patreon why are they doing this?? they should have consulted [insert other yt-er here]"

"they've become the capitalist elite that we swore to destroy! so we have to tear them down from their thrones!!"

Even now, feeling better than I have in days, I don't have the energy to say why each of those takes completely misses the point of who they are as a company, as creators, and as human beings. But there are some eloquent posts in my #watchergate tag, or my other post, if you're interested.

April 22, 2024: We got the Watcher update - giving people access to all videos after a month on the new streamer - and that seemed to placate a lot of viewers and those on the fence. But it was also the day I learned about that horrible petition against Steven, and I'd been following all this drama for several days (foregoing some self-care) and so I had a little meltdown...

Even though the new setup is closer to what I'd hoped for like 10 days ago, I hate how we arrived at it. It's shown people that they can bully creators to get them to compromise on their company. In fact, I've seen accounts celebrating this.

Opinions like this have given me trust issues when it comes to the Watcher fandom at large now. As many of my beloved mutuals have said, I'm going to be wary of accounts that follow me and be applying that blocking feature liberally.

I can also only imagine how things like this must have broken some of the trust that the Watcher crew feels for us - fightingfuries really said it best. If they do start distancing themselves on socials and things, I wouldn't really blame them.

I don't have more to say, other than I'm going to support them as much as I can, for as long as they continue to make content. I'm going to send the team a care package. And I hope in time we'll earn back their trust.

Now I'll let Ryan Bergara play me out...

As for the question of why we decided to launch our own platform, when we started Watcher in 2020, we wanted to create shows that we were proud of, that we had ownership over, and that would provide you the caliber of content that we felt you deserved. However, we were finding it harder and harder to stay relevant to advertisers and the constantly changing YouTube landscape. We faced some incredibly challenging decisions. We didn't want to compromise our content to ensure they met advertising requirements. And we definitely did not want to lay people off that have brought Watcher to life behind the scenes. And we didn't want to bring Watcher to a close, which would have happened if we stayed solely on YouTube. - An Update, April 22, 2024

[5sospenguinqueen]

My Boyfriend's Boyfriend - Alex Albon x Reader

Summary: When you start publicly declaring your love for your boyfriend, George takes it as a challenge to prove he loves him more. And poor Alex is caught in the middle of it all. 

Warnings: Thirsty comments. Fluff. Crack fic

Requested: No 

Faceclaim: Elisha Applebaum (and random pinterest pics) 

F1 Masterlist

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williamsracing just posted

liked by landonorris, jensonbutton and others

williamsracing locked in for quali

2,323 comments

yn_ln who gave him permission to look that tasty!

yn_ln gnawing at the bars of my enclosure 

→ williamsracing do we need to lock you in alex’s driver room? 

user1 @/yn_ln are you bored per chance?

→ yn_ln i am salivating! 

→ user2 i think she meant ovulating because girly is being horny on main 

user3 the hand veins 

→ yn_ln agreed, babe 

user4 oh wow. he looks like prince charming in that light  liked by yn_ln 

alex_albon oh so this is why the team keep telling me to check on you before i get in the car?

→ yn_ln i’m fine. it’s not my fault you’re so beautiful 

→ francolapinto you’re making him blush 

georgerussell63 people on twitter said somebody was acting like they loved alex more than me? 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, williamsracing and others

yn_ln and my man, thank you to my man 

3,316 comments

alex_albon happy anniversary, my love. 3 years with you isn’t long enough ❤️

→ yn_ln i love you so much. i’m so blessed to have your arms in my life 

→ alex_albon just my arms?

→ yn_ln big fan of your hands and neck

→ yn_ln and something else

→ landonorris don’t finish that sentence!

user5 he’s such a cutie liked by yn_ln

user6 yn feeds us with the alex content

→ user7 she knows what we want to see ‘cause she’s just as thirsty as us 

georgerussell63 huzzah. a man of quality 

→ yn_ln this is why you have no friends

→ georgerussell63 at least i’m not the reason he has to have a pr meeting tomorrow 

→ yn_ln you might be the reason he doesn’t get laid tonight. we’ll see how much he likes you then

→ alex_albon whoa what

user8 happy anniversary to my fave f1 couple! how are you spending the day?

→ yn_ln in bed liked by alex_albon

→ user8 oomf got a response but at what cost 

landonorris i swear every time your name pops up on my instagram, my eyes burn

user9 oh wow. hello arm veins liked by yn_ln

alex_albon just posted

liked by logansargeant, francolapinto and others 

alex_albon going back to my roots for my 100th gp with my first ever helmet. onto the next 100

2,363 comments

georgerussell63 i can’t wait to race another 100 with you, mate  

→ yn_ln yabba dabba don’t 

→ georgerussell63 why hasn’t he dumped you yet

→ yn_ln my head game is too strong liked by alex_albon

→ user10 i live for their comments 

→ user11 the beef between george and yn over alex is my favourite thing about f1

yn_ln if you’re going to pucker those lips then you could at least put them against mine

→ alex_albon 😘💋

→ user12 i love that he embraces the crazy 

jensonbutton happy 100, alex! 

williamsracing thank you for celebrating your 100th with us

→ alex_albon thank you for putting up with my girlfriend and george

→ yn_ln @/georgerussell63 ha, see how i was my and you were just george

→ georgerussell63 🖕🏻🖕🏻

→ mercedesamgf1 george, that’s not appropriate online behaviour 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yn_ln it’s finally me and you, and you and me. just us, and your friend george

1,923 comments

georgerussell63 he looks happier with me

→ user1 you can’t see his face with yn

→ georgerussell63 irrelevant 

→ yn_ln @/user1 he had to turn away so the cameras wouldn’t catch his boner

→ alex_albon you were whispering in my ear! 

→ user2 omg it’s true! 

user3 the flowers 🥰

carmenmmundt i think you should date me instead 

→ yn_ln let’s run away, babe 

→ yn_ln @/georgerussell63 see, even your own girlfriend prefers me

→ georgerussell63 you can keep her

user4 okay but that bouquet is beautiful 

user5 alex is literally the dream boyfriend 

alexandrasaintmleux this is how i feel with charles and pierre 

→ francisca.cgomes we all suffer the bonds

alex_albon guys, the flowers weren’t for her. they were from her for me

→ yn_ln it was a thank you for the orgasms

→ williamsracing yn, please. we’re tired

→ yn_ln that’s too damn bad

→ georgerussell63 @/alex_albon if i buy you flowers, will you love me more? 

georgerussell63 just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others

georgerussell63 me and my friend alex. oh, and some stalker 

3,001 comments

user6 posting this 10 mins after yn’s post aha

user7 alex didn’t respond to any of george’s comments so george made a whole post dedicated to galex

user8 yn’s face 😂

→ yn_ln it’s because i was looking at george. 

user9 the fact that george is touching alex in each of these

→ yn_ln and he’s not touching him back says everything 

→ georgerussell63 i hate you i hate you i hate you 

mercedesamgf1 we need more galex content! 

→ georgerussell63 thank you for being on my side in this, admin

→ williamsracing we’ll set something up ;)

carmenmmundt and where is my public declaration of love?

→ yn_ln i love you 

→ carmenmmundt thank you. i love you too

williamsracing we approve of this post 

→ georgerussell63 so you prefer me to yn? see, alex. i’m pr approved 

alex_albon i’m feeling so loved lately

→ yn_ln it’s hard not to love you when you look that delicious 

→ georgerussell63 oh but when i say this it’s a “problem” 

alex_albon just posted

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant and others

alex_albon happy birthday to my most beautiful, annoying thot

3,234 comments

georgerussell63 excuse me. what is this? 

→ yn_ln i win! 

user10 alex calling her a thot 😂 he knows she’s thirsty and he loves it

yn_ln @/georgerussell63 suck it. you don’t have a whole post dedicated to you 

→ georgerussell63 is it because she blows you? i’m willing to make some sacrifices 

→ alex_albon please don’t

user11 williams and merc pr tremble every time these two post shit 

→ williamsracing can confirm

→ mercedesamgf1 we have to pay for their therapy 

user12 yn is so pretty 

→ alex_albon yes, yes she is. the prettiest 

→ yn_ln keep talking that way and you might get lucky tonight

carmenmmundt george just fell to his knees in the car park 

→ alex_albon i’m sorry you have to deal with that 

→ carmenmmundt i’m sorry that you had to deal with him

yn_ln i love you so much that i’m willing to ignore the second to last word. you are my favourite person and i would fight all the drivers for you

→ alex_albon i love you too, bug. even if you do force me to have weekly pr meetings 

→ georgerussell63 i admit defeat

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Requests are open!

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[norrizzandpia]

I’ve Got You (LN4)

Summary: In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.

Warnings: none <3

Note: this is based off when Lando’s quali lap times were deleted and he was just sitting there looking at his hands all sad :(

“Where is he?” Y/n threw the headphones off her head the moment she caught wind of the news.

Andrea approached her softly, a hand up, “He’s doing the post-quali interviews, Y/n.”

She shook her head at him, “So, what? He’s just sitting there as they converse about his lap time? Andrea, you know how he gets with these things. He shouldn’t be alone.”

Andrea stepped in front of her when she tried to maneuver around him, trying to get to Lando, “Y/n, there are too many cameras. We can’t ensure PR.”

She blinked at him, “Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck PR. I don’t care about anything, but getting to him right now. He should not be alone right now. I mean, look at him!” She waved her hand toward the TVs, screens showing Lando picking at his nails as clear embarrassment sunk into his body, “He doesn’t even want to be alone right now.”

Andrea huffed, eyes glancing to the side before landing back on her and nodding, “Fine, but no major PDA.”

She loved Andrea, she truly did, but she gave him a nasty look before rushing off.

—

She weaseled her way through the crowds, tears springing her eyes at the image of Lando sitting idly by himself. A man stopped her when she tried to get passed the barriers, “Miss, you do not have authorization to enter into this area.”

She smiled at him, “I’m his girlfriend.”

That didn’t mean anything in the eyes of security, “Okay.”

A frown found its way onto her face, “Sir, please. I’m trying to comfort someone I love.”

He continued to shake his head, “I understand, but I cannot allow you into this area. I can’t confirm who you are.”

Hands tied, her eyes spotted Oscar and she yelled him over. When his feet landed him feet away from the situation, he didn’t need anytime to realize what was going on. Oscar grabbed Y/n’s arm, “It’s okay. She’s with me.”

The man thought for a moment before allowing her through, a smile on her face as she thanked Oscar. He waved it off, asking her to promise a happier Lando. She would try, she said.

Lando saw her feet first. Her white sneakers that she loved so much aligned in his vision and he stopped picking at his fingers. His gaze slid up her form as she sat down next to him, hand sliding under and around his arm softly. She heard the murmurs, they were incredibly loud, and the camera clicks, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She could practically feel the upset melting off Lando. She hurt so much for him.

His body relaxed at the feeling of her warmth and when she laid her head on his shoulder, he laid his on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, baby.” She whispered. Maybe lip readers would figure out what they said.

His hands went to fidget with the nails on his fingers, but she stopped him, linking their hands and softly rubbing his skin, “It’s okay. I need to work harder. I can’t keep failing like this.”

She squeezed his hand three times, a silent confession of love, “You’re not failing. You haven’t failed, Lan. Everybody is proud of you. Racing is a hard sport and you are one of the most talented drivers here. You’re so so hard on yourself, love.”

Lando chuckled, “Y/n, you have to say these things. You’re my girlfriend.”

She pulled her head back lightly, giving him a moment to get his off her head before looking him in the eyes, “Lan, I don’t have to say anything. When have I ever lied to you? When have I not told you that an outfit looked bad when it did? When have I not told you that a move you did in the race screwed you over when it did? When have I not told you you handled a situation badly when you did? I’ve always been up front with you. This is a hard track. You are not a failure, Lan. Nobody thinks that.”

He was quiet for a moment before pecking her lips, “Even though part of me is still beating myself up over this, knowing you’re proud of me helps it subside a bit.”

She smiled, kissing his cheek whilst still rubbing his hand, “Of course, I’m proud of you. Lan, I will always be proud of you. Even when you don’t give your all, I’m proud of you for being you. Fuck anybody who thinks different, you’ve got this. You have shown time and time again that you’ve got this. I’m sure you’ll give it your all tomorrow and you’ll continue to show just how much you’ve got this.”

His head fell to the side with a soft grin, “You think so?”

She brushed the hair around his face away, “Yes, I do think so. And, hey, even if you don’t, if you DNF, I’ll buy you your favorite ice cream and we’ll watch a sad movie, have a good cry. We can turn anything bad into something good.”

He laughed, “How is crying a good thing?”

She gave him a deadpanned look, “Baby, you love a good cry.”

He leaned into her as he giggled, “You’re right. You know me too well.”

She nodded, “I love you, don’t I?”

“I love you too. Thank you.” He whispered, kissing her lightly in fear of the cameras. He never told her often, but Y/n had the greatest ability to talk him out of his moments of self-doubt. Whether it was small or big, she always knew just the things to say to make him snap out of his anxieties. Her superpower, turning his frown upside down.

He wished he was as good as her at it, but she was Y/n, his favorite person, she did everything better than everybody.

He loved her for it, he lived for it, he continued for it.

He loved her, he lived for her, he continued for her.

And when they told him his lap times had been deleted, the weight didn’t feel as heavy. Her arm wrapped around the side of his body as they walked away and her whispers of reassurance in his ear, the lap time situation began to feel smaller.

He accredited it all to her. Her words worked wonders, but, if he was being honest, a small look sent his way from her would do the trick. He guessed it was how much he felt for her, how much of his happiness lay with her.

Under the Qatar Grand Prix lights, Lando found peace. When the reporters asked him how he was coping with the loss, he had the same response every time.

“Some time spent in the presence of my girlfriend will work wonders.”

[skiiyoomin]

yk ur sending txt horny memes post 😊😊😊 I think u should turn them into drabbles 😊😊😊 have a great day 😊

ღThe aftermath of sending them horny memes

ʚCont: SMUT CONTENT, swearing, reader has female parts (in yeonjun and soobins part!!), cunnilingus, face sitting, blowjob

⤑Back to navigation ⤑The SMAU, Part 2

a/n your mind, its beautiful, i love you. p.s im gonna divide them in 2 posts so its not too long! Part 2 with Taehyun and Hueningkai will come tomorrow!

Yeonjun

His rough hands on your hips and warm tongue intertwining with yours had you going lightheaded with pleasure. A deep groan left his lips from the way your fingers tugged his hair and shot a painful yet pleasurable shudder down his spine.

"Fuck I missed you so much" He moaned between kisses, the feeling making you sigh out in bliss.

"Me too. You were on my mind all day" A possessive surge ran through his body as he slammed his lips back to yours. "Yeah? What was on your mind?"

"How good you make me feel" You giggle, your words slightly slurred. "Though about your tongue all over me, fucking me so good" Your filthy words went straight to his growing erection, making him growl and flip you over so you were on your back.

He didn't waste a second in slipping your clothes off, the fabric feeling far too hot on your heated body. A deep guttural groan resonanted from his throat at the sight of the wet spot in your panties. His lips trailed up your inner thighs until he reached your clothed cunt. It didn´t stop him from pressing his tongue flat against the wet stain, making you yelp and squirm underneath him.

The disruptive fabric was off before you could even begin to process it and your senses were overwhelmed with the hunger Yeonjun ate you out with. His tongue was relentless on your inner lips and the tip of his nose brushing against your clit, eliciting sweet moans from you.

The squelching and slurping from his tongue sounded so filthy yet so arousing to your ears that it had you pushing his head impossibly closer to your sex.

With his tongue moving in and out of your tight hole while his fingers pressed on your hard nub, the knot that was building up in your stomach was quick to snap. Your hips jerked upwards as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue.

If you thought you were going to get a break, you were wrong. His mouth latched onto yours once more, giving you a taste of your sweet essence. "I´m not done with you" He murmured between sloppy kisses as he began to lower his sweatpants. Despite still being sensitive from your previous orgasm, arousal pooled in your cunt immediately.

Soobin

Soobin was convinced this was what even felt like. Your plush thighs were on either side of his head while he stuck his tongue out to press it between your soaking slit. Your hands were tugging his hair, causing a stinging sensation in his scalp that felt so good. And with the way you were rocking your hips, using him to stimulate your pretty cunt, he couldn´t be a happier man.

"Soobin, ooo- shit. Mmmg- doing so good"

Your praise, between those beautiful moans, made his cock twitch. And as painfully hard as he was right now, his sole focus was on you. On licking and sucking your clit like a starved man deprived from your sweetness. He felt like one with how desperately he used his tongue to pull noises out of you.

Despite the aching in jaw he was sure would be sore for a few days, or the breathlessness he felt from inhaling your scent like it´s the only thing he needed in his lungs, he didn´t stop. He couldn´t stop. Not when you were so close.

"Mmm baby oh god m´ gonna cum"

You whine, your voice raising in pitch. He could feel it, the way your plush walls squeezed his tongue as he thrusted it up into you. He could feel how your thighs trembled from the effort you were making in holding yourself straight and not literally suffocate him, not like he´d mind.

His hand that was resting on your hip slid down to press the pad of his thumb on your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. With the vibrations of his moans, he quickly tipped you over the edge. Your body shuddered and shook accompanied by your loud whiny moans.

There was silence for a moment after you moved away from his face, which was soaking wet with your slick. He smiled innocently up at you.

"Round 2?"

"Fuck yeah"

Beomgyu

Technically, he brought this upon himself. Was he going to admit it? Absolutely not. He had way too much pride for that.

Currently, he was on his computer, clicking away on the keyboard while his eyes darted around the game on the screen. But...he wasn´t doing very well because his attention was truly elsewhere.

You were crouched under the desk, your hands on his thighs while your glossy lips wrapped around his cock. How could he concentrate on the game when your head was bobbing up and down his rock hard boner? But he was never going to admit that to you. Not when you had doubted him before and he very cockily shot your doubts down. He would never hear the end of it if he admitted defeat.

He bit down a groan that was threating to spill when your tongue slid around a particularly prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He cursed himself when his hips thrusted into your mouth out of pure instinct. You must definitely know by now how wrapped he is around your finger.

With the way his breathing was picking up and his stomach was clenching, once, twice. You got him where you wanted. The bright red letters of "YOU LOST" popped up on the screen, but Beomgyu wasn´t paying any attention. He placed his hand on the back of your head and forced his cock deeper down your throat. His hips grazed your nose as he picked his speed up, groans and dirty words making you clench your thighs together.

He pulled back when he felt his cock twitch, signaling his impending orgasm. You pushed his hands away to jerk his dick off yourself and lead the spurts of cum into your awaiting open mouth.

"Shiit baby, fuck you´re so good"

You licked the remnants off his tip, swallowing everything greedily. The sight was enough to get his cock hard again. He lifted you off the ground and sat you down on his lap.

"I think you deserve a prize for taking my cock so deep down your throat huh?"

[kisakis-boyfriend]

🎃 nsfw headcanons for fyodor, nikolai, and sigma (+dazai and chuuya if you’d like) with a werewolf s/o?

Author's Note: I'll do Dazai and Chuuya in a separate post, thanks to tag limitations 😔

Pairings: Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, mentions of breeding, knotting, biting, scratching, leashing, mindbreak (Fyodor), virginity kink (Sigma)

Fyodor

The 'fake dom' Slut

Fyodor likes to pretend that he's in control, but really, who's he fooling?

Trying to control a semi-feral beast. Yeah, good luck, buddy

You'll allow our favorite skinny Russian to put you on a leash, but it's only because you know that he can't hold onto it while you're railing the brains out of him

Fyodor is literally folded in half in a mating press, drooling like a whore. And you're loving every second of it

He definitely keeps track of the moon cycles — clearing his schedule on full moons and coming up with an excuse to be around you those nights

If your human form is also bigger/taller/more muscular than him; Fyodor will swoon

Not that he wouldn't swoon anyways, no matter what your human form looks like. He's just possibly got a little size kink 🤐

Nikolai

The Overt Slut

Nikolai is so not subtle…

"Oh my, what sharp teeth you have. You could totally bite me and make me bleed haha :)"

"Such sharp claws… it would be a shame if you accidentally scratched me with them!"

"What a big, thick cock! I could never take one that big… unless? 👀"

He'll sit next to you, knowing that you can see his phone screen, and look at werewolf knotting porn 😐

I mean, literally. NOT subtle in the least

Nikolai loves when you take control and breed all of his little holes

Just manhandle him and cover him in your seed please. You'll have a very happy jester in your possession

Personally, I think Niko has higher than average stamina; so he'd be able to go quite a few rounds, even after you knot him. If you want to keep rutting into him, he's all the happier ☺️

Sigma

The Shy Slut

“I am not taking that! You'll never fit!”

30 minutes later, Sigma is crying as you pound the virginity out of him

Sigma acts like he doesn't enjoy being filled and having some rough sex, but it's just his insecurities, really

If you make him feel loved, he will eventually agree to certain things :)

Always screaming "I can't take it!" Or "it won't fit" but, again, none of that is true

Sigma easily becomes your moaning slut once your dick is fully sheathed within his gummy walls

Full moons make him nervous — he, conveniently, hangs out with you on those dates though…

Sitting in your lap as the sun sets, cupping your face and requesting kisses too

In a rare, confident display, your pretty boy will ask you to fuck him in your werewolf form all on his own

Still complains about his sore ass and the scratches covering his body tomorrow though 😶‍🌫️

[preylamb]

Posting this at a very interaction unfriendly time, but I finished my design for @catmask and @frogcroaks monster mayhem contest!!! I never get around to actually completing entries for contests im interested in, so I couldn’t be happier!!

All that said, here’s The Sandwaste Harpy! I love her a lot and prooooobably should have linked this tumblr post for my submission cause I’m about to give even more design context and such, but. Oops. 😭 I was very excited and impatient. But yeah! More info below :]

So I almost immediately knew I wanted to draw a weird half-woman siren/harpy sort of design, as that is just my guilty pleasure and comfort zone. And I really needed a comfort zone cause I am so busy with school and my hand is HURTING. Back on track though, from there I wanted to make a creature that lures weary travelers to oasis to drown and eat them

These were some of my main inspirations, some got more attention than others. The sandfish was surprisingly my biggest inspiration though, despite how things turned out. I also took some inspiration from general reptilian and more specifically snake-like features. As well as taking the idea of upper and lower body coloring from sea creatures as a means to better camouflage with the light from above or darkness from below.

I was struggling with inspiration from there though, before I saw an unrelated monster design that leaned into the more monster woman design, with many heads at the front of it’s more monster parts chest. Which inspired me to design chicks and have them latch onto the plume, akin to how mother opossums look with all their babies. It made the design go from appealing to completely endearing to me in moments.

I imagine they are also similar to opossums in many ways involving caring for their young. One thing I note is how when an opossum mothers den is unsafe, she will leave her children and return at night/when it’s quiet and try to retrieve them when it’s safe. I’ve had that happen with an opossum mom who left around 12 of her babies in my garage in a soda can box and they were all so cute and I made sure they were left alone. BACK ON TOPIC THOUGH.

I did mess around with speckling in the design, but couldn’t find a way to convey that in a way I enjoyed, hopefully the sand coloring carries this on its own. She also originally had black hair but I accidentally made her blonde and realized how much i enjoyed that in her palette anyway and how it would better camouflage too.

Camouflage is not my favorite word to spell.

But yeah otherwise this piece also acted as a means to try out a new approach to line art. No pen pressure. I realized most artists who use defined line art I enjoy, do not use pen pressure and I often don’t enjoy the looks of high pen pressure inking in my own works so why. Was I using pen pressure. I don’t know. Anyway I love how this looks and it was so easy on my pained wrists so I will have to do more of this :]!!!

[churipu]

JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[55sturn]

reader and bff!matt going out to the club for a couple drinks and getting a lil handsy on the uber ride back to his place

✮ A DRUNKEN NIGHT WITH BFF!MATT

disclaimer: alcoholic consumption, nsfw, heavy petting, dry humping, implications of going further.

matt leaned against you in the backseat, his head resting against the headrest behind him as the one too many shots of tequila made his head spin. but that wasn’t the only thing making the car seats in front of him blur and twirl, or making his head feel fuzzy.

it was your perfume. and the closeness of your body. and the way you reacted to his touch. and the way the skin of your thigh felt so soft beneath his hand as he dared to inch his hand beneath the hem of your ridiculously short dress. another thing that made his mind swarm with thoughts of you, in a way he definitely shouldn’t think about his best friend.

“you smell so good.” he hums against your bare shoulder, the fingers of his hand now pushing fully beneath your dress as you struggled to keep yourself steady. the feeling of his hands barely roaming your body had you struggling to bite back your whimpers, wanting to beg for something more from him.

biting the bullet, his hand ventures further as his lips press against the side of your throat, your head falling back as his fingertips pressed against the lace of your thong, your arousal seeping through, making his lips quirk up into an arrogant smirk and you can’t hold back as you turn toward him, capturing his lips in your, desperate to wipe that smirk off his face.

he’s got half a nerve to even considering not pulling you into his lap, and so, against his better judgment that he’d hold sober, he’s pulling you into his lap, not really giving a fuck about the driver in the front grimacing at the sounds of you making out, nearly dry humping one another.

his hands are quick to guide your hips back and forth over his hardening cock, while simultaneously pulling harder against him, the pressure of your cunt pressing against his cock feeling far too good for him to stop, he needs this. he’s spent too long pining after you.

as the driver pulls onto his street, you’re nearing your orgasm, the frequency of your whines and the way they’re climbing in pitch telling him so. so he’s making sure to guide your hips faster against his, wanting to see you fall apart in his lap. and he’s swallowing your whines as the driver parks in his driveway.

your heads are cloudy, and neither of you are sure if it’s from the alcohol or from the post orgasm haze, but when you stumble up to the front door, his hand pulling you along, and the giggles falling from your lips have him feeling so giddy. so when he tugs you into the safety of his room, you find yourself feeling happier than you ever have, and you know that this won’t be the last time you find yourself in his bed.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @gamermattsgf @vanteguccir @sturnioloshacker @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @sturnioloshacker @raysmayhem-72 @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @thc-bolter @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @sturnifyed @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @hysteria-things @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @bambi-slxt @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Prove You Wrong, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Insecurities About Weight Gain

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: After finding out her dress doesn't fit, Y/N starts to feel insecure and Rafe wants to get rid of those thoughts.

A/N: Insipred by this post.

Masterlist

Y/N doesn’t feel insecure often. With someone like Rafe around, it is hard to feel that way with his constant praise. One sight at the doubt of her brilliance and he would literally shut down the whole world until she realized she was the best person ever to exist. As she gets ready for a date with him, she tries zipping up the zipper of her dress, yet it won’t budge. She grows frustrated at the lack of advancement, concluding that she won’t be able to do so because she must have gained some weight. Tears start to bubble at the corner of her eyes, more so that the dress that she adores is no longer in commission for her than the actual weight. It was the dress she wore on her first date with Rafe and she knew how much he loved the dress. She didn’t realize she was taking so long to get dressed until Rafe came up to check on her. Finding his angel on the ground crying is the scariest thing to him. He has no idea what happened or if she is hurt. He rushes to her side and brings her onto his lap. He brushes her hair behind her ear with a kiss on her cheek, “What’s wrong, Angel? Are you hurt?” “No, my dress doesn’t fit anymore,” she whimpers, shoving her head into his neck. He looks at the fallen dress on the floor, “It’s okay. We can pick out another dress for you to wear tonight.” “If that one doesn’t fit, then I doubt the others are going to fit,” she argues. 

“Well, then I’ll cancel our reservations. We can order the greasiest foods I can find and watch the After movies you’ve been wanting to watch.” 

“No, I have to go on a diet. I’ve gotten fatter.” 

Rafe immediately pushes away to look her in the eyes and shakes his head. “No. No. No. Don’t say it like that, Angel. I won’t say that you gained weight or not because we won’t know unless we use a scale, which we aren’t going to do. So we don’t know if the dress doesn’t fit because it shrank or something,” he begins. “But even if you are the reason the dress doesn’t fit, then it doesn’t matter. Because you will still be the most amazing girl in the world. Do you know that it’s been proven the more you gain weight after entering the relationship, the happier you are in it? Weight fluctuation is a perfectly normal thing.” Her head moves from side to side, “If it’s normal then how come you didn’t gain weight too? Are you not happy in our relationship?” “I am ecstatic about our relationship and I can’t tell you why I haven’t gained weight, but if it would make you happy, then I would gain all the pounds in the world to show you how happy I am,” he responds, tucking her back into his side with a kiss to her forehead. She giggles a little, “No, you don’t need to gain weight for me. If you gained all the pounds in the world, I would be worried about your health. I’m just disappointed you won’t be able to give me piggyback rides anymore.” “I will never stop being able to give you piggyback rides,” he scoffs, falling back so he is lying flat on the ground.

He turns her so she is perpendicular against his chest and his hands go under her body. “What are you doing?” she questions at the sudden change of position. He pushes upward, “Let me prove you wrong, Angel.” Y/N is suddenly in the air thanks to his hand movement. His arms don’t even shake a little bit as he leaves her there for a few seconds before he brings his arms back so they are bent. He continues to bring her open and down in his reps until she ceases the point he is trying to make. “Okay. Okay. I get the point. Can you put me down now, please? I’m starting to get lightheaded,” she begs. He brings her back down so she is straddling his hips. “I will always be able to give you piggyback rides and then the moment that I am not going to be able to is when I am going to be a hundred years old with fragile little bones,” he promises, kissing her lips. 

She nods, “I believe you. Can we get something to eat now? I’m hungry.” “Of course, Let’s get some burgers. I want to see how pretty you look wearing my shirt and sweatpants and those are definitely not appropriate for the restaurant,” he informs. He shrugs off his suit jacket and goes to his dresser to get them a change of clothes. 

———

The next day, when she gets back from class, she finds about ten new dresses in her closet. They are all identical to the one she couldn’t put on yesterday, just five are sizes bigger and the others are sizes smaller. She picks up the note on the one that is a size up from her original dress. So you can always wear your favourite dress. I can easily order more if you need them because there is an infinite of these dresses out there, but only one you. I love you, Angel.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[ouchthathurts]

❝ 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟-𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.4k

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 1 | 2 |

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Your best friend from high school is working at the same internship as you!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Second Person Point of View | Angst | References to sex | Series? | Marijuana Use | Alcohol Use

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ BINGO BANGO BABY!!!! I’ll be honest that I’m weighing on making this a series, I want o but I’m looking for the push

There’s a familiar warmness that breaks from the open window, you smack your lips as you feel your tongue roll against the roof of your mouth, the taste of fruity alcohol mixed with marijuana has nestled into your tastebuds.

You miss the tongue in your mouth that helped implant it, stirring around and you couldn’t be happier to have someone, you held in such high regard, mix with you. You clutch the blankets and pull them to your chest—

What is there left to hide from him?

You slowly pull yourself from under the blankets, your naked top now feels the sun beat onto your chest, you try to recollect last night and think about what your next actions should be. There’s familiarity in the room, the old scratched up records pinned to a wall with an acoustic guitar that was never played properly, work out bean bags, and a small round table with scratched up games' controllers on it. There’s a box of pizza, one slice left—

“You can have it, just heat it up in the morning.”

You don’t take it, no matter how much you feel the vibration in your stomach, you suck it up and began to collect your clothes scattered around the area. You see the familiar Sonic CD rug in the center of the room just before the bed, there you find your underwear, you see your shirt on top of the lava lamp next to his bed, and you find your bottoms next to your school bag.

Your shoes are downstairs, his parents always had slippers to offer at the door whenever you and/or his other friends would come over. It was the only thing they were really strict on when it came to him. You look inside your bag, nothing but schoolbooks and the binder you used for all your note taking, you throw it out the window and into one of the bushes in front of his house.

You look for your phone, on the dresser with some old DVDs of movies that his mother still had, none of them were really interesting except for this one you really enjoyed. ‘Your Name Engraved Herein’, it always made him cry, you had to comfort him after the movie but no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it’s okay, he just continued to bawl into your shoulder about how amazing this movie was.

Maybe it was because you didn’t pay attention to the movie, more focused on his expression as he experienced the movie, he’d tell you little tid bits and explained it to you afterwards when you told him you didn’t really understand. There was always commentary with him when it came to movies, you loved every second of his little movie watching sessions, friends would throw popcorn and hush him, but you eagerly leaned in to hear him whisper small facts about the movies he’d have you all watch.

Even when he finished explaining the movie you didn’t get it, but he told you: “I cried every time I’ve watched this movie without fail, ever since I was like in middle school, my mom would watch this movie, and it would be me and her crying our eyes out over it.”

You grabbed your phone, around the 20% mark it was mainly just texts from your mother about spending the night at his again, she would tell you that you were messing up the future she was perfectly crafting for you and that you needed to learn more discipline before college started. It was always grades, attendance, and extracurriculars with her.

You only did the bare minimum, average grades, average attendance, and chess club.

Your mother hated it.

“He's bringing you down! His parents don't even care about what he's up to! You think I'm gonna let you mess everything I have going for you for some low life boy who can't even follow something as simple as wearing a uniform to school?”

You defended him, like you always did, why wouldn't you? He was there for you when you were down, always there for you, like he was there for you this weekend. You kept scrolling through messages; besides your mother, it was only him who would text you daily.

You had people you studied with, your mother’s friends’ kids, and the family you were already distant with. You had to get home. You slid all your clothes on before you peeped your head through the door, the sound of the shower running and music coming from the speaker he took in the shower with him blaring through the empty house.

His father worked on weekends and his mother went grocery shopping Sunday, “Was it Sunday?” You thought out loud, you couldn’t think about the time you were last back at your house, you made your way down the stairs and towards the door when you found your shoes.

You slip them on and then make your way out; after closing the door you pick up the rock from the little pond, they had next his porch, you lock the door and place the key back where it belongs. You go through the bushes, searching for your bag and a huff out of frustration when you dust the dirt off of it.

There's another huff as you sling the bag over your shoulder and then silence, there's sounds of nature from his neighborhood and now her you were just walking down the street, hoping on the next bus and another back towards the apartment your mother and you shared.

As you unlock the door your mother sits on the couch, she's watching her programs with the same 4 speakers on the different channels she's gone through in the past

“At his place again?” And the way she can't even say his name, it melts off her tongue like a slur and you can't help but bite back a response before she gets up. “Well, how was it? His family feed you?” You shook your head, “No, ma'am. His parents weren't home.”

Why would you say that?

You see the anger in her face, “Oh?” The woman makes her way over to you, there's no hesitation in your stature as it's a routine check. The way she pulls down the collar of your shirt leaves your breath to hitch, you try to snatch her wrist only for her long and jagged nails to scratch at the skin of your palm leaving you to hiss in pain.

There's no surprise with the number of dark marks that were collected by the boy, it was his first time as much as it was yours. You feel the warmness in your cheeks before your mother's eyes burn into you, her stare boiling you alive as you do nothing but just stare at the ground.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” Your name is a bark of a command, called out like a show dog to those she wants to impress then kicked at like a mutt the rest of the time. You pull your head up, you don't want anymore imprints in your cheeks, your acne already fucking up your face as is.

“What did you two do?” You roll your eyes, mumbling ‘Nothing.’ before she snatches up your jaw, those nails now cut up the pimples on your face to leave the pus to pop out You want to whine, cry like a child, ‘Mommy! Stop! You're hurting me!’ You, unfortunately, allow this with your eyes creasing and a small frown rugging on your lips that seems don't only make her madder.

“Your breath reeks of weed and alcohol. I can't believe you'd go and mess around with that boy, after everything I told you!” The woman lets out a pained sigh, as if her coming to spit in your face and yell at you was somehow your puppeteering her to do so. “What if he got you pregnant? How could you do something so dumb! It doesn't even surprise me, he probably talked you into it–Knowing his little delinquent self and his little gang he's probably riddled with some type of disease.”

You want to tell her off, he would never do something like that, all his friends are different from him, they're all a bunch of party goers that just want to do narcotics and fuck each other silly.

“He's not like that.” You strained out of your pursed lips, your mother's tongue smacks against the roof of her mouth, “The boy is nothing but spoiled. His parents just give, give, give, give, and give to some little freeloader who's going to do nothing for his life besides leaching off his parents' money.” You can't hear this anymore.

“He's actually trying to get a job!” Your mother cackles, “Oh yeah? He's getting a job?” “Yes!” “Well, why doesn't he already have one like you do? You got your own job at the library when you were 14, you were obedient then, before you met that little…” There's a seething rage in the woman, she's sucking at her teeth, and she'll be grinding them into a fine powder if she continues.

You bite your tongue, he had definitely had an impact on you, like he always has. You wanted to try and dye your hair one day with him, layer your outfits, be outside of the uniform, wear make up, dress up on those days where you were allowed casual dress, and take your time with life in general.

Those nights he'd stare at stars on the roof with you, he'd point up and explain how sometimes he felt so small in this world. “This is really the one way I can try and be in impact on such a big world!” He gestures to his brightly colored outfit; you find yourself lost in his expression as it's just a nice mix of brightly colored acrylics that melded with his tanned skin.

You admire him.

Even as spit hits your face you're left with the same rant over and over again, “I work hard at my job so you have all the tools not to end up like me, slaving away for some ungrateful brat of a child, instead never having kids and being happy you don't have to waste your money on some freeloader until it's too late.”

Your mother took responsibility to raise you, even after your father was distant to the idea, it be some apparent that these two were working in separate directions that only pulled you apart.

Honestly, if it wasn't for him, you'd be on the ground with a full bottle of pills being guzzled down your throat.

Your mother notices your expression and she huff, “Stop being around, hanging around him, being around him, he'll do nothing but drag you down and he won't be doing you any good in the future other than a book up for narcotics.” The woman gets all in your face, “You wanna end up like me? I only stopped doing all those things once I found out I was pregnant with you! Do you really want to end up like me?”

Strikes a nerve.

You never wanted to be like your mother, her sad life with a child who could only resent their mother, her boyfriend who abandoned her to go do more drugs, and no one to fall on. It's sad, you feel for her, you see where she's coming from you, and you sigh upon seeing her fall to her knees to grab at yours.

The woman sobs into your thighs, wincing at the familiar grip from the night before most definitely bruising them from such harsh treatment, “Pl-ease!” The squeak in her voice as she says your name, she is begging and all you can do is try to comfort a woman who has never taught you how to comfort someone. You rub her head, and she sighs, sniffling a bit before she continues, “I don't want you to end up like me! Don't love someone who's only going to bring you down! I know you can do better!”

Your mother wouldn't tell you it now, but you were now stuck with this. Your mother always knew if you were around him, she worked there as the librarian. You were called to stay later helping your mother, doing more on campus, and a demand for straight as after a C in an AP course came up.

It wasn't surprising since the both of you took the same class.

You couldn't let your mother win but here you were, letting her win, and you could do nothing as you found her beginning to bring the hammer down. “I can't let ever you make a mistake that big again.” You were tested for everything; she kept track of your periods and was around you whenever you had free time.

“You've been summoned to the library,” The dreaded phone call before you left class, it killed something in you when you and he could barely talk most days. You guys didn't really share class, even when he went out his way to take APs it became apparent to him how much harder it was for him to really keep up with you.

Those daily ‘Good morning!’ messages fell into weekly ‘Have a good week!” texts. Not because of him, but because of you. You couldn't even keep up with everything, once your mother pinpointed the college you needed to get into or she'd kick you out, simply if you applied yourself the way your mother wanted.

But it meant you'd have to leave him behind…

D-S ▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼

Hey! I know last night was a lot. I'm sorry if I messed up, I know I wasn't going to be the best but I’m sure you'll have other people do it way better than me!

1:30 PM 9/05

Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!

9:45 AM 9/06

When do you get off work today?

4:30 PM 9/06

I'm getting pizza, do you want me to get you a box???

2:49 PM 9/14

Y'know one for now, one for when you're depressed! I finally got the reference!

2:58 PM 9/14

Are you okay?

3:24 AM 9/30

Did I do something wrong?

3:25 AM 9/30

I'm sorry if I did anything wrong

3:29 AM 9/30

I mean that, I'm really sorry

3:33 AM 9/30

Can we talk?

3:34 AM 9/30

We haven't like sleep called in forever, and it would give us time to talk stuff out, whatever I did wrong you can tell me.

3:45 AM 9/30

Please?

3:48 AM 9/30

I didn't know you and Ange became friends I always thought you both hated each other.

12:39 PM 10/19

I didn't do our matching costumes it felt like a disservice if it wasn't with you.

4:29 PM 10/30

Dude, family's being weird, wish you were here!

7:38 PM 11/28

Happy Holidays, I got you something! Do you know when I can come over and give it to you?

11:29 AM 12/25

Hey, I'm having this new year party! Y'know like new year new me! I plan on trying out for stuff like sports and getting on my academics!

9:28 AM 12/31

I'm tryna get like you!

9:40 AM 12/31

My parents asked about you today, they were like ‘When are you coming over?’ and ‘What are you up to these days?’

10:02PM 1/17

Happy Valentine's Day, I know you got a lot of stuff cause you're just cool like that

10:38AM 2/14

Even I got you something!

10:38 AM 2/14

Lmk when I can give it to you!

10:38 AM 2/14

I'm sorry for being annoying this year, I really am sorry for anything I did to you. Have a good time in college!

11:00 AM 6/30

You began to avoid him, he'd go to the library to rent out a book and watch as you restock, he'd text you and you'd have the read receipt there just to think about responding to him only to put the phone down, you walk around campus without a care, cordial whenever faced with head on confrontation, and that's how it was until you graduated.

You went off, pursued your own interest in space your mother said it was your choice to study nut it needed to make enough money for you and her. Now you were just as excited to get on and do things outside of your mother now that you were finally free from the woman. You decided to take all your classes online, you'd had this internship lined up for you and nothing could bring you more joy than joining the manpower in space.

There's a big smile on your face as you meet your comrades, Curly, your pilot and Jimmy, the Co-Pilot, you'd be shadowing the two for tour duration of their trip on the Pony Express. Anya, the nurse, who would be the only woman on the ship, you loved to be around her and her little jokes. Then there was Swansea, he wouldn’t stop complaining about having some intern, “They better pull their weight.” The man grumbled out.

You weren’t shocked to find out you guys were waiting on another guy, the two of you added last minute on behalf of the Pony Express, finally a guy popped through the door, explaining that he was at a party the night before celebrating Earth before he had to leave. Your eyes crease as you examine the man’s features, ‘No fucking way.’

That lovingly sun kissed complexion that had the contrast of his brighter highlights against his already chestnut colored hair. There, on his face, stood the markers for where you kissed on him that night, a mole under his right eye and the left mole lower down his round cheeks.

The fact that he couldn't even wear the uniform alone almost made you fall before him, he hadn't changed in ways you thought he would, and it tore at your heartstrings to realize how much you missed him. The familiar sound of the two bangles on his wrist that contrasted the red wrist band he wore that you also had from the first party he took you to.

There's a plethora of excuses that rush out of his mouth, and you just listen to now his voice only be one softer to your ears. Earning its way into your eardrums to nestle in your memory in order to haunt you for the rest of your stay.

While the group continues to get everything on the ship there's a silence that falls between the two of you when his eyes finally land on you. Your friend was a day you could never forget, the morning after your happiest night alive, you'd coo into his ear that you loved him, and he'd do the same with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Yet, here you were, reliving those memories and wondering how the fuck do you even start the conversation. You watch as he makes his way over, your rib cage encased around your organs before crushing them like a corset.

With each step your breath hitches, your eyes faltering between looking him in the eyes only for your nostrils to fill with disgustingly sweet peach cologne he had to have. Why wear something like that for all these years? You're grateful he would even wear something like this to this day.

There's a hand on front of you, wide open with some rings on his fingers, his fingers spread a bit and when you take one last inhale of his cologne you pull your head up to look him in the eyes. There's a warmness in his face, it hasn't worn down and has only brightened since you last saw him, you feel your heart clench as you hear his voice.

“Heya! I'm Daisuke, I’m psyched to be working with someone as new as me!”

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[shdysders]

last kiss

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which you and tara truly had your last kiss.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: this song is fully based on last kiss by taylor swift. also sorry for bad update and shit writing, i’m currently not feeling motivated for it.

"I love you."

Those were the three words you had whispered into Tara's ear, with your soothing and mellifluous voice.

It had been late. 1:38 to be exact. You couldn't fall asleep, although you thought Tara was. Whispering in her ear and kissing her cheek, being completely unaware of the fact that she hadn't yet to doze off either.

She had tried her hardest not to let the huge smile spread across her face. You had whispered the words for just the two of you to know.

Later that night, Tara had opened her eyes, feeling the need to see your features once again before drifting off. You'd looked so tranquil, peaceful. Your face lit through the darkness like a radiant moon, casting a gentle glow all around.

You told Tara you loved her.

So why did you leave? Go away?

It was not until now Tara remembered the time when you had reunited with her after sixteen long weeks apart. The sixteen weeks of Tara's school semester, who had felt like an eternity.

She recalled the smell of the rain, the sound of the drops hitting the hood of her rain jacket, and the fresh downpour on the pavement.

You had stayed up the entire night, just to get to the airport just in time so Tara wouldn't have to wait when she landed. July ninth.

Tara had ran of the plane just to see you, sprinted towards you the second she saw your sneakers on the concrete floor of the arrival hall. She jumped onto you, embraced you in a bone crushing strength you didn't know she had.

She remembered the smell of your floral scented perfume in her nostrils, and the way she felt your heart jumping through the material of your hoodie. She could still feel your arms around her sometimes.

Now she didn't have anyone to sprint towards after she'd gotten off a plane.

The only way she could feel your smell now was when she wore your clothes, the garments that you had left at her house and then forgotten.

Tara put on your clothes almost every day, sitting on the floor of her room, letting the smell of the different fabrics bring her to a happier place; the memories with you.

She thought about how much she missed you all the time. Although she was unsure if you ever thought of her.

Tara felt unsure of everything. She didn't know if the split between the two of you was the cause of it, or if it was all of the betrayals from previous events. But she did know that the only thing she was certain of was that she didn't know how to be someone you missed.

She knew you didn't miss her, but that didn't stop her from trying to figure out how to get you to yearn for her. As much as she did for you.

Was the key to get a new partner? Or post stuff that showed she was happier than ever? What could possibly make you want her again?

Something else Tara thought about constantly, was your last kiss. The last kiss she never thought the two of you would have. She thought you would spent the rest of your life alongside one another.

She had never thought about her relationship with you ending nor taking a drastic turn, but when it did come across her mind one time, she'd never imagined that it would happen like this.

She never planned on kissing Chad.

It wasn't on purpose. Of course it wasn't.

She would never intentionally do something to hurt you. Never.

But she had done it anyway. She had tried to blame it on the alcohol that she had poured into her body minutes before, but she was very aware that wouldn't get her anywhere.

Because the truth was; Tara didn't have a reason behind it, not at all.

She had asked herself the question over and over again; why she had done it, knowing that was the first question you'd ask her when she told you. But she couldn't come up with a proper answer.

Tara had felt out of place for months. She had felt this longing for comfort and validation. She knew that if she talked to you about it and expressed how she felt, you would've erased that feeling. Oh how she wished she had went to you to begin with.

She didn't know why she didn't.

Tara knew she could trust you. She knew she could trust you like a lighthouse guiding her through stormy seas.

Yet her mind told her something was wrong. She was fighting a battle with herself at that point,

the internal battle being between what she knew was right and the temporary relief she sought.

She felt disgusted with herself for sleeping with Chad. They had known each other ever since birth, and she thought that might've ruined their friendship for all eternity, however that wasn't the relationship she was worried about ruining.

The relationship she was worried about destroying was with the person's name she had accidentally moaned out.

Your name.

It was always on her lips.

Even when she tried to enjoy herself with other men, all she could find herself thinking about was you.

You'd forever be the name on her lips, no matter how hard she tried.

As she looked back on your time together, she couldn't help but remember the swing of your step. The way you moved with such grace and confidence. Each stride carried a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her heart.

You were the life of the party, always showing off, whether it was in beer pong or in dancing, you loved dancing. You would always pull Tara onto the dance floor just so she would join you, and she would roll her eyes for it.

Tara wasn't much for dancing, she'd never liked it and was never going to. But for you, she did dance. She danced like nobody was watching, and she never seemed to regret it, because it always made you beam with a smile.

She'd do anything to watch you smile. She'd do anything to be with you again.

Because she loved the way you greeted Sam with a gentle handshake whenever you joined them for dinner. She loved the way you walked with your hands in your pockets.

How you'd kiss her when she was in the middle of saying something. She'd always end up kissing back, and she never complained, yet she still called it rude interruptions, and there wasn't a day she didn't miss them.

She'd do anything to experience that again.

The only experiences with you she had now, was the ones she tried to relive with your clothes on her body. When she would sit on her floor, pressed into a corner of the four walled room, either sobbing or just thinking about you, and how she didn't know if you ever wasted a thought on her.

She was now watching your life in pictures as regularly as she used to watch you sleep.

You slept over at her house almost every night, and on every occasion Tara would lay in front of you for hours, just admiring your features and relaxed face. She never told you about it, but now she wished she did.

She could feel you starting to forget her, as often as she used to feel you breath. Whenever you embraced her as you slept, she made sure to keep count your breaths and the amount of seconds between them, like they were about to stop if she didn't count.

They never stopped. Luckily. But she stopped hearing them after she'd told you the truth. About what she had done with Chad. She never got to hug you again after that, or count your heartbeats.

Tara tried to keep up with your old mutual friends as often as she could, asking them how you were doing. She always received short answers, politely short answers.

She could tell they wanted nothing to do with her. Same as you wanted nothing to do with her, Chad or even Mindy.

You would occasionally greet Mindy in the corridors, never even bothering to look at Tara or Chad, which was understandable, but that didn't stop the jealousy from flooding through Tara's veins from the sight.

She hoped you were doing well. She hoped it was nice where you were. Wherever you were. Whoever you were with.

She hoped that some day, when the sun would shine and it'd be a beautiful day, that you'd be reminded of something about her, and that'd you wish you had stayed. For whatever reason.

She hoped that at some point, you'd think back to the last kiss you shared, that you would change your mind, and that you'd want to come back to her.

Just so everything could be the way it was. The way she ruined.

[d1xonss]

heyyy went thru all your masterlist (reader one) and fell inlove with your fics i was wondering if you can write something like grumpy!daryl x sunshine!reader ykwim? like they complete eachother (::

Sunshine

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 10

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ Ahhh thank you so much for reading, it truly means so much! I’m always down to write this type of stuff, I think it’s so cute:)) I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! ps- I thought this was a super cute thing to post for Valentine's Day💋

It was quiet, peaceful inside your home as you busied yourself around the space. It was a nice hot summer day, and you felt quite accomplished with the amount of things you had gotten done in just the span of a few hours. You tended to your garden full of colorful flowers, made a trip to the pantry to pick up a few things you were running low on, cleaned and tidied up the house, the list really went on and on. But the truth was you loved doing things like this, it almost tricked you into believing that life outside the gates was normal again. Even though you knew it wasn’t, it was still nice to pretend from time to time.

Currently, you busied yourself with making some of your famous homemade brownies, something you found you hadn’t made in quite some time. With everything going on lately, it was hard to find the time to do the things you loved most, which was in fact, to bake. But now that everything had died down for the most part, you quickly hopped back onto the opportunity. Whether it was cake, cookies, or some kind of bread, you always found life to be a little bit better with something sweet.

But you weren’t just making these brownies for yourself, in fact, whenever you whipped something up it was never just for you. It was also for your husband Daryl whom you adored more than anything else in this world, the man constantly making you happier with each passing day. And he loved you just as much if not more, and he especially loved being your taste tester whenever you tried out a new recipe. The first time you had called him that, he just scoffed and shook his head as if what you said was something stupid. But you could see that small smirk he had on his face afterwards, silently telling you that he actually loved the little job you assigned, though he would never admit it out loud.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you began to mix the dry and wet ingredients together, swaying your hips a little to the soft song playing in the background. Recently you had found a record player on a run and you were over the moon excited to use it, missing music from the world before. And although you hadn’t found the best records in the world to listen to, you thought almost anything was better than the quiet. The most you had found were a few country albums which weren't in your top favorite genres for sure, but you had to admit it was growing on you the smallest bit. With the way you danced along, it was hard to deny.

Your head then suddenly snapped up when you heard the sound of the front door opening, a smile being brought to your face as you already knew who it was. He was a little loud upon entering your shared house, dropping his crossbow on the table with a loud smack, huffing and puffing as he entered the living room without a word. Your smile dropped a little, usually he would call out to you to announce that he was home, but clearly today was not one of those days. He was in a mood, and you knew you would have to cheer him up.

Although Daryl was perfect to you in every way, he was a pretty grumpy man from time to time when things didn’t work out or go the way he planned. The littlest things could completely ruin his demeanor for the rest of the day at times. He would hold onto it, rant about it constantly while it was on his mind, even though most of the time it was something that he couldn’t change. But you assumed that’s what frustrated him the most. And this was no different, hearing him sigh heavily in the other room as he plopped down on the sofa. 

But the best thing about you, was that at the end of the day, you always found a way to make him feel better.

You discarded the mixing spoon that was in your hand, moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room in an attempt to see what was bothering him. But once you caught sight of him whilst lingering in the doorway of the space, you sighed quietly upon seeing how he held his face in his hands, slumped over the side of the couch. You could tell he was irritated and that something had happened today while he was out, but it was nothing that you couldn’t fix. And you figured the brownies would help too.

So you finally pushed yourself forward to enter the room, softly sitting down next to him as you raised your hand up to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Hi sweetie.” you greeted softly.

But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even raise his head up to look you in the eye. The most he did was grunt, and even you didn’t know in that moment if it was directed towards you or not.

You eyed him for a moment before speaking again, “How was your day?” you asked gently while rubbing his shoulder up and down now.

Still nothing. Damn he was a tough one to crack today. But you knew he couldn’t resist you for very long, even if today was the worst day of his life, he always came around for you. Always.

Upon not getting a verbal response, you leaned further into him and began to trail a few quick kisses on the side of his head, to which he scoffed and scooted away from. “Come on woman, m’ not in the mood.” he grumbled as he finally looked up from the floor.

“He speaks.” you said as you raised your hands up in victory, your actions causing him to scoff with a roll of his eyes. Acting as if you were the dramatic one here. “What happened?” you asked with a tilted head.

He blew out a breath of air, “Nothin.”

“Mhm…” you trailed off sarcastically with a nod, “Nothing…”

He was silent for a long moment, nearly minutes passing by, before he blew another harsh breath out as he leaned back against the couch. “We lost all those damn supplies on that run we took today, walkers just came outta nowhere and we didn’t have time to stick around. Negan’s getting on my fuckin nerves all the damn time, spittin out the same bullshit I’ve heard a hundred fuckin times before. And my bike broke down on the way back, don’t even know if I can fix it.”

If someone was looking at this from an outside perspective, seeing the amount he just unleashed while you sat there with a small smile on your face, their jaw would probably be on the floor. How you hardly reacted at all, how he was so harsh with the way he spoke, you were sure it would look questionable to anyone who didn’t truly know the two of you, or your dynamic. But the truth was, you had heard this similar song and dance about a hundred different times before, knowing he just needed to get everything off his chest and blow off some steam. And you knew after saying it all out loud, along with a little comfort, he would see that everything would be alright in the end.

Your lip stuck out in a pout as you looked at him, “Oh, my poor baby.” you said dramatically as you pulled him back into you, placing your lips on his cheek to kiss him there multiple times as he let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.

“Stop.” he protested, yet made no attempts to pull away from your affection. In fact, you swore you almost felt him lean in further.

You giggled against his skin as you pulled away far enough to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” you spoke seriously now as you stroked the side of his face, “But it’ll be okay…everything will work itself out.”

He scoffed quietly at your words, “Ya always say that.”

“And I’m always right.” you said as you leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek, “Remember when you came back from a hunt that one time with nothing, and you were all grumpy about it? What happened the next day?”

He glanced over to you for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, “Found three deers…” he grumbled.

“Right.” you said as you moved to give his arm a soft squeeze, “You worry way too much over this kind of stuff, just breathe. Relax. It’s all going to be fine.”

His expression softened drastically after you talked to him, kind and gentle as always, wordlessly leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. You laughed lightly as you hugged him back, stroking the back of his hair soothingly as you felt him exhale deeply. Taking a breath like you advised.

“M’ sorry.” he muttered suddenly after a few moments of silence.

Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, “For what, honey?”

“For dumpin this shit on ya all the time…” he clarified as he squeezed you tighter, “Ya don’t deserve that…hearin me bitch-”

“Hey.” you cut him off as you pulled away, taking his face in your hands, “That’s what I’m here for, to listen. I’m honored to be the one you go to when you need to rant about something, and I’m even more honored that I’m the one who gets to make you feel better. That’s certainly not something to be sorry for, okay?”

His lip turned up in a small smile as he took your hands from his face, kissing your palm lightly as he looked at you with soft eyes, “I don’t deserve ya.”

You shushed him instantly with a shake of your head, “Yes you do.” you assured, before your mind trailed off a little in realization which caused a small smile to form on your face, “But…I do think I have something else that’ll make you feel better. Maybe even better than I can.”

He scoffed with a growing smile, “Well, I highly doubt that…but go on…” he said as his interest clearly piqued.

“Well…I just so happen to have some brownie batter in the kitchen with your name on it.” you said as you raised your eyebrows.

His eyes widened the smallest bit in clear excitement before glancing out the doorway, clearly itching to rush into the kitchen now, “Ya haven’t even baked em yet..?”

You shook your head with a smile, “Nope…I’ll even let you lick the spoon.” you said, knowing that was his favorite part.

His smile only grew then as there seemed to be a sparkle in his eye, like a kid in a giant candy store. The two of you then ventured back toward the kitchen where the music was still playing softly, getting the batter ready to be put into the pan to bake. But of course, he took the spoon from you almost instantly when you were done using it, licking the entire thing completely clean as if he couldn’t get enough. Though he felt he had to tease you just a little bit, taking a small dollop from the utensil on his finger before bringing it to the tip of your nose with a “boop.” 

You knew then and there that his mind was far from the events earlier that day, now enjoying his time he had with you as he looked at you as if you were a bright ball of sunshine after a rainy day. The sunshine that he desperately needed in his life.

But then the time came. The oven had beeped and you had pulled the brownies out of the oven to cool before cutting them, topping it off with some powdered sugar before your taste tester gave his honest feedback. He took a corner piece, which were his favorite, and took a large bite of the chocolate goodness while you looked at him in anticipation.

“Well..?” 

He said nothing, his eyes rolled back and a groan left his lips as he savored the sweetness on his tongue, and that was the only answer you needed. You smiled brightly as you clapped to yourself, his signs of approval proving that you were only getting better with the hobby you loved to do.

“Dunno how ya do it,” he commented before shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, “They just get better and better.” he said with his mouth full.

You smiled proudly as you began to grab a piece for yourself, “Well it’s a good thing I have my taste tester to give me all the feedback I need.”

Normally he would roll his eyes at the continuous nickname you bestowed upon him, but not today. He only smiled with a nod, bringing you in to leave a dramatic kiss on your cheek, pulling away with a loud “muah.”

“I’ll always be here ta taste whatever ya want sunshine.” he promised. 

And you believed him completely.

~ Thanks for reading!

[ffsg0jo]

𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

character :: higuruma x fem reader

warnings :: fluff, mentions of death/ghosts, allusions to depression, children, pregnancy, higuruma has low self esteem sometimes, kissing, cute kids

w/c :: 1000

a/n :: thank you so so much @xodapawp for sending this request. it was written as a part of my fics for gaza commissions that im doing. if you enjoyed it and would like to donate to gaza, then please check out the linked post for more information and @ficsforgaza too !!

life was fleeting, something hiromi knew all too well. things could change in mere seconds, time slipping like sand between one’s fingers. the tighter he tried to hold onto it, the faster the streams ran, leaving behind bitter, salty grains.

guilt weighed on his shoulders with the intensity of a thousand suns, blinding his view and blurring the lines between sense and nonsense. the wax wings on hiromi’s shoulders melting, facilitating his spiralling descent. deeper and deeper he fell into the endless abyss of his mind. he was helpless, his sense of justice skewed. the mental subjugation and torment seemingly infinite.

but then you came into his life.

hiromi has no idea what he did to be deserving of you. he keeps waiting and waiting for something to go wrong, retribution for his misdeeds. through restless nights where he could hear shrieks of the ghosts of his past coming back to haunt him. he was so sure you could hear them too and that you’d leave, but you didn’t. instead holding him close to you through it all, the comforting weight of your body on his, fighting the emptiness within.

you loved and accepted him for what he was, a broken man in need of respite. he was underserving of your kindness and tried to push you away, but you saw the good in his heart and called out to it. you helped him heal and fought his hardships with him, side by side. slowly but surely, the fog in his mind lifted, the blinding lights dimming until his view was clear. in you he found atonement. he found liberation.

you blessed him with, not one, but two angels, with a third on the way. hiromi thought he knew happiness, like winning a case for someone wrongly accused of a crime or sinking into a steamy bath after a long, tiring day. but when he first laid eyes on his sweet baby boy he burst into tears, kissing your face repeatedly, his heart swollen, full of love. he had never been happier (save for the day he married his one true love).

hiromi watched his son grow day by day, looking more and more like him. his face may have been an exact replica of his father’s, but his son’s sincerity and open-hearted nature was all yours. in his son’s smile he saw you.

time flew before his eyes, only now he looked back on his memories with fondness and gratitude. before he knew it, his family was due to expand again, with the addition of his baby girl. he was the luckiest man in the world, his heart overflowing with warmth, happiness running through the ends of his hairs to the tips of his toes.

with you laying your head on his shoulder, his son doing his homework on the living room floor, and his daughter sleeping in his arms, he felt truly at peace. looking down at his precious daughter he found a million reasons why he had loved (and always will love) you.

hiromi was never one to appreciate to his looks. but in the mornings, when shaving before work, he’d end up scrutinising every single little detail. he saw his son, looking him in his eyes, a bigger version of his daughter’s cute nose on his face. that infectious smile of yours now mirrored on his lips. how could he have ever felt so insecure about himself when his children are the very essence of his being. looking at his beloved children, he thinks, no he knows, there is beauty inside of him too. that there always was.

 “romi is everything okay?”

your voice lulls him out of his reverie, bringing him back to the present. your daughter was out of his arms and was now calling your son’s name, clambering onto his back whilst he was on the floor colouring. he paid her no mind, used to be treated like a climbing frame, and continued working on his school project.

hiromi, sat cuddling you on the sofa, laughs when she starts pulling his hair. his son finally has enough and stands up, pulling the three-year-old onto his shoulders, and runs around the tea table pretending to be a plane. your husband turns back to you, absentmindedly rubbing your swollen stomach.

“just thinking my love,” he says, leaning down and kissing between your brow. you hum and snuggle into his arms further.

“penny for your thoughts?”

“absolutely not, they’re worth more than a pretty penny,” he jokingly scoffs.

“fine,” you huff, leaning up to kiss him tenderly. “a kiss for your thoughts.”

he acquiesces, leaning down to press his cheek against yours.

“just thinking about how lucky i am to have you.” you turn your face to meet hiromi’s gaze, eyes shining at the strength of the sincerity in his admission. you bring your hands up to hold his face, pressing kisses to his lips.

“i’m the lucky one my sweetheart, you’ve given me everything i could’ve ever asked for and more.”

a warmth rushes through his body at your words and he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss. the hand on your stomach moves to your waist as he gently pulls you into him, deepening the kiss.

“ewww daddy’s eating mummy.” your daughter exclaims, pointing down from her brother’s shoulders.

you pull apart and laugh at her words. your son only looking at you both with a smile, heart warming at the sight of his parents being so openly in love.

hiromi jumps up from the sofa and runs towards your daughter, grabbing her off your son’s shoulders and playfully bites and kisses her cheeks.

over the sounds of her delighted giggles, hiromi exclaims “gonna gobble you next”, aggressively om nom nomming her cheeks.

your son sits down next to you and lays his head onto your chest, hugging you, mindful not to put too much weight onto your midsection. immediately your hand comes up to stroke his hair and you kiss his forehead. he’s so much like his father, both in personality and looks.

laughing at his dad’s antics, both you and your son fondly watch hiromi now throw your daughter up into the air and catch her. rubbing your stomach, you pray the child in your womb turns out exactly like their father.

truly, what a blessed family you’ve both created.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[lilioopdf]

always enough time (cardigan)

pairing: reader x (childhood best friend! + college!) pepe marti

notes: fluff, a little angst, then fluff again! 3.2k words (oops 😓😓 i should've probably split this up)

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: dedicating this to my lovely mutuals who have been here from the very beginning and even before i started writing 💗💗 idk if this is too sappy but i genuinely love you guys for interacting with my writing posts and my non-racing posts because it really does mean so so much to me and i didn’t know any better way to say thank you

and if you’re reading this, have a lovely lovely day/ahead ahead 💞💞 may people always shower you in love and warm hugs

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the first time his eyes meets yours, you’re 4, clinging onto your father’s trousers as he speaks to another man about work related things. it is a business event, after all. he waves at you, a complete stranger then, and he watches as your head tilts a little, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, before you hide your face behind your father.

he’s six, and yet he still feels his face burn in embarrassment, all because the prettiest girl at the party didn't say hi back.

he sees you again the next day, when you're both having dinner with your fathers at a hidden little restaurant near the beach. your fathers recognise each other almost instantly, and you suddenly find yourself sat next to him as the adults talk about complicated grown up topics over some drinks.

after dinner, he offers you half his cookie under the table, and you give him half of your ice cream in return.

he's too shy to say anything this time, but he lets you play with his toy car the very moment he notices you looking at it curiously.

it's a strange start to your friendship, but it's a sweet one nonetheless.

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you grow up together, but at a distance, only seeing each other during summers when you would follow your fathers to overseas work conferences.

he looks out for you for years.

when you're 8, he teaches you how to ride a bike. how to tie your shoelaces so you don't have to stick to velcro shoes forever. how to run faster, how to run without tripping over your own feet. he's gentle with you, and doesn't ever seem to mind your clumsiness.

you're only ever the same height as him once, and that is when you're 11. that year, his hair is almost always a little too overgrown, but he smiles more, and he has more stories to tell. he's at a new school now, one where they can bring their own phones with them. he tells you about the new subjects he's learning; physics, chemistry, english lit, and history. he has more friends now, and he shows you pictures of them alongside their text messages about online games you don't quite get.

when you're 13, he seems so different from the boy you knew last year. he's significantly taller than you now, and his voice cracks a less frequently than it used to, but he still blushes lightly whenever it happens. you don't mind though. if anything, it makes him even more endearing. pepe tells you about how he joined his school's soccer team this year, but you're sure you would've known even if he didn't tell you. he's so much happier these days, but he seems so grown up too. so much more ahead of you in life, at least.

the year you turn 15, things start to feel a little funny. 2 years feels like too big of a difference between the two of you now, and he just feels like too much of a boy. he towers over you now, and his voice has changed so much that you couldn't recognise it when he called out your name at the airport. you notice how the girls around you seem to look at him a little longer, letting their gaze linger on him for a little too long before they notice you at the side, standing awkwardly and feeling just a little too out of place.

you don't know how to feel about the fact that he's almost always looking at you instead.

now, he's quicker at picking up on your body language. he puts an arm around you and holds you when he can tell that your cramps are too bad, he's quick to offer you his jacket when the wind is just a little too chilly, and he's always carrying around your things for you. "just looking out for you," he says. "don't want you feeling alone when i'm right here."

and then you're 16, and lines start to grow a little blurry. it's a year full of insecurities and unfufilled longing, and most of the summer is spent in your head. it's weird to hang around him like that now. you start to distance yourself from him, but you're pretty sure he doesn't notice anyway. he still brings you around for dinner with him and to hang out, and you accept, but you don't ask him to follow you to places you'd like to visit anymore.

you run into a school friend of his one day, and you're suddenly made aware of just how differently he acts around you. his friend's nice to look at, you think. pepe tells you that's he's a soccer teammate from school. he calls you pretty and asks for your instagram, but pepe says something you don't understand in spanish and his friend just nods, apologises, and leaves, leaving you feeling just a little wounded and put off. you wonder if you did something wrong, but you're too scared to even ask your school friends for advice. they've all passed this silly stage anyway— you're the only one who's never even had a crush, let alone be asked out.

pepe gets his first girlfriend by the end of the year, and you're almost happy for him, except you can't help but feel a little jealous. it's silly though, you think. you're just a lovesick teenage girl pining over an older boy. she's cool and loud and she's always able to visit the same places and parties as him. a perfect match. he sees her more often than he sees you anyway.

your friendship ends on a rocky note the year you turn 17. neither of you follow your fathers the next year. neither of you can. it's pepe's last year with you before going off to university.

that summer, you're on your phone almost the whole time, texting a guy from school who's just asked you out. a hockey player of some sort. he parties and drinks a lot, but he's nice to you, and somewhat interested, you suppose.

when pepe finds out, he lets out a huff of laughter. "you're not seriously considering dating him though, are you? this is just for fun, right?"

you feel yourself still at his words. "what do you mean?"

"he won't be good for you. you're just... not like that. that lifestyle wouldn't suit you," he replies nonchalantly.

your blood burns just underneath the surface of your skin in anger and annoyance.

"who are you to say what lifestyle suits me? maybe this is what i want. i've grown up, you know."

you're more hurt than angry, although you're not quite sure why. your tone is indignant and fierce, and you watch as his expression turns neutral and unreadable and his eyes flicker from you, to your phone, and back at you again.

when he realises that you're being serious, his face contorts into an ugly expression, one of anger and almost a little bit of hurt.

"fine, suit yourself then."

then he walks out the room, and hot tears start running down your face.

and that is that. he still says goodbye to you at the airport, but the both of you don't hug this time.

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you try not to think about him for the next two years.

you drown yourself in your schoolwork, tackling assignment after assignment, exam after exam, anything to prevent yourself from indulging in any thoughts of him.

when a childhood friend brings him up one day, asking why you don't meet him during summer anymore, you pretend that he was just a phase. just a blip in your life; minor and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

time goes by, and you continue to study hard, because you want to study humanities and the arts in university but still have the grades to prove that you could've done stem if you wanted to (like pepe, although you'd never admit to thinking that).

and then in a blink of an eye, you've graduated, and your months long break comes around as you wait for uni results to come back out.

its been a full two years now, but you'd be lying if you said you'd forgotten about him completely.

how could you?

you thought about him during mugging season in school, and during university applications, and sometimes (maybe especially so) during interschool games for soccer, imagining what it would be like if he was here, playing for your school team. (you also wonder what it'd be like to wear his jersey and cheer him on loudly and proudly in front of the whole schoot, but that's not something you're ever going to admit.)

you spend your summer soothing yourself to sleep by reminding yourself that pepe's been gone for two years now, and you're still doing fine. that you have done fine without him, and that you can and will continue to do so.

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imagine your horror when you realise you've been posted the same university as pepe. same campus too.

your father is ecstatic. he immediately wants to call up pepe's dad and tell him the news but you beg him not to, tears in your eyes. you can't risk looking like a hopeless and dependent little puppy even before the school term has started.

before the first day of uni, you've already studied the campus map well enough to plan routes that avoid going near the school of engineering, just so you can avoid pepe. you're almost 100% confident that you'll be able to hide from him for his remaining two years in uni. plus, you definitely look different from the way you did two years ago, so you technically have an extra layer of protection.

except you have an orientation camp the very first week of uni, and you're just that lucky enough to have a familiar face as one of your orientation group leaders.

he recognises you instantly. how could he not?

you half expect him to ignore you, or at least, pretend not to know you. but to your surprise, he smiles. in fact, he beams at you, and he waves before jogging over to sit next to you. your mouth is slightly agape, and you can't tell if this is some kind of cruel joke that he's playing on you right now.

"how have you been? you're lucky to be here today. the weather isn't usually this nice, and i know you get chilly easily." he's still smiling while speaking to you, and he's just acting so... normal, but you?

you feel like smacking him. you left each other on a sour note two years ago, after being friends for more than a decade, and he chooses to talk about the weather, of all things.

but you just put on a smile and act the same.

arguing with a best friend is one thing, having to make small talk about mundane, boring, topics with a friend you've known for years and then forgotten is another. you can't figure out if talking to him is helping heal your heart or slowly shattering it into more tiny little pieces.

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the first few weeks of uni fly by, and you don't end up using any of your pre-planned routes.

in fact, you end up meeting pepe almost every day before you your lessons. for breakfast, or brunch, or lunch... and maybe even dinner, once both your classes are done.

you can’t read him that well, and you wonder if this is only weird for you. but you’re not one to complain. you’re not one to take this for granted either.

you’ve spent years of your life missing summer and pepe, and then you spent two more years missing him without even speaking to him at all. no, you’re definitely not taking this for granted.

you learn that he's playing soccer for a kids charity event that happens yearly, that he's studying mechanical engineering (which doesn't surprise you at all, not really), and that he's broken up with his girlfriend, because of different goals in life or something. you stop yourself from thinking too hard about whether or not the both of you have compatible life goals upon hearing the last part.

he’s still sweet to you.

maybe even more so now that he can actually look out for you. he always gives you his jacket when you’re cold, offers to help you run your errands on busy days, and he even helps you get special oppourtunities thanks to his friends and connections. and when you’re sick, he gives you updates for classwork even though he’s not in the same classes as you, bringing you heat packs and checking up on you daily with warm teas and essential balms.

it's all so lovely that you could almost cry.

except he’s always just a little too stiff around you. too hesitant to touch, too close for distance.

he'll bring you heat packs on your period, and allow you to lean on his stronger frame when the cramps get too bad, but he never gets close enough to cuddle. and when either of you stay over for too long while studying together, he always offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch, but he never allows himself to lie in the same bed as you.

it's all so polite but so frustrating, and you're even more upset because you have absolutely no right to feel that way. he's your best friend, and he has been for years. he's not someone you could ever have the priviledge of dating, and he deserves a friend he can count on, not someone who's helplessly unable to stop their one-sided longing for him.

and so you let another six months slip away as you spend more time with pepe in your head than physically, while he continues keeping a distance from you, leaving you wondering why.

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suddenly it's feburary, and pepe's been so busy with schoolwork and training for the upcoming charity match that you just don't see him that much anymore. you're pulled back into that aching feeling of loneliness, and busying yourself with your own schoolwork and friends doesn't seem to help.

i can't risk doing badly this semester, he says. this is the one that counts. i’ll have to find myself a good internship for portfolio— maybe with formula one, he says. you nod. you’d be proud of him regardless of what he did anyway.

you end up following him to the gym in the early hours of the morning just to hang out with him, even if hanging out now means you just watch him get through his workout routine while you sit next to him and sort out your schedule.

his friends refer to you as pepe's girlfriend now, and you stopped correcting them when you realised that pepe didn't seem to care. you can't blame them anyway, you're together almost all the time. you're always waiting for him at his apartment after classes, usually in an oversized t-shirt or hoodie of his, and he even wakes up early just to bring you breakfast before class.

the domesticity of it all makes you ache, but you can't even bring yourself to imagine what if would be like if your relationship was actually as desired.

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pepe visits you the night before the charity match.

he brings you a jersey. his jersey, and he shyly asks if you'd be interested in showing up to watch him the next day. you almost scream with joy, but you control yourself, accepting it gracefully and holding the jersey gently and close to your chest.

you whisper a string of thank yous, careful not to wake your roommate up, and all pepe does is pull you in for a hug. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and all you can do is press yourself closer to him, taking in the scent of clean laundry and his cologne.

before he leaves, he flashes you a teasing smile, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he asks, "am i going to have to say it, or will you?"

you're caught off guard by his comment, and you just tilt your head in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. but he doesn't explain further. he just chuckles, gently shakes your shoulder, and leaves.

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you show up to pepe's match half an hour before it starts, just so you can get a good view of the match. the venue is already half full, and you're just grateful to have gotten front row seats.

you act as casual as you can, pretending that your heart isn't racing while you're wearing his soft jersey, with the number 23 boldly printed onto the back. when your friend teases you about the way your cheeks seem to be permenantly pink, you gently slap her arm and tell her to be quiet in a weak attempt to save your face, which only results in a laughing fit from her.

the match is mostly a blur, but both teams are very evenly matched, and there's suddenly only 4 minutes left to the end of the game and both teams are stuck in a tie.

you're not sure when your focus zoned in on pepe. it could've been since the very start of the match, but you somehow catch that split second when the ball is passed over to him, and his expression changes from one of neutrality to determination. you watch as he expertly drabbles the ball between player to player, rushing to get close enough to the goalpost to shoot before the end of the match.

you're sure that everyone in the venue held their breath at the exact same moment you did, and that time must've stilled when pepe slid and kicked the ball into the goal, just 30s before the end of the match.

the whole venue erupts into cheers. it's defeaning, but all you can think of is how proud you are of him in this moment.

you don't take your eyes off him for even a second, and when the referee finally signals the end of the match, he looks at you too.

he’s all sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead, face flushed.

he's sipping from his bottle, standing directly in front of you, having run straight to you after the match.

your boy.

there's a wicked grin on his face, and you can feel the heat rise up to your face as you take in all of him in awe.

everyone’s staring, you think, but you know he doesn’t care, so why should you?

you barely allow yourself time to hesitate, but he's quicker.

he kisses you.

his mouth is warm and soft, and yet there's a certain pressure and intensity with which he kisses you that makes you think that he probably wanted this as much as you did, maybe more.

and when you both finally break apart for air, you realise that all the cheering is now directed at the both of you, and you can't help but start laughing shyly. he smiles at that, and presses a quick kiss to your temple before rushing off for a debrief, with promises to talk later.

you don't even care that your time together has been cut short, because all you can think about now is how grateful you are that you won't have to return him this jersey.

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© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms

thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and safe always!! 💗💗

taglist: @oscnorris/@httpiastri (the one and only person on my taglist 💕💕 also i realised i forgot to ask you which account you wanted me to tag so i’m just doing 2/3 :p)

[hiraethwa]

to be loved is to be known

two; here we go again // the red strings bring you back to me

<the collection — to be loved is to be known>

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, divorced!reader, fluff, healing from past marriage

wc. 6.8k

featured track. haze by LUCY

you have me. even when you think you don't. i was only ever yours to begin with.

kageyama tobio accepted the offer to play with ali roma that following season. 

you had seemed happier in the following weeks with no recollection of the night of your birthday, so he tells himself that he is happy for you that you managed to mend whatever it was in your marriage. not that it ever stops him from thinking that he wouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place if he was your husband. if, if, if. 

but he isn’t, so he throws himself into volleyball, the love of his life. between the busy season leading up to the olympics and moving to italy, he didn’t have much time to miss you anyway. 

you didn’t normally text or call each other outside of volleyball, the only thing that threads a very thin connection between you, so he sort of lost contact with you naturally, the delicate string unraveling through disuse. 

it’s been many months since he settled in italy, so he gathers it’s time to move on with his life—move on from you. he thinks he is actually doing alright in that department, chasing after whispers of your name on written articles, posts, updates significantly less than he used to when he first moved there.

once again, kageyama forgets to account for the variable that is you. 

because he finds you knocking on his apartment door as he returns from his grocery run, and his arms slacken, bags falling to the wooden floor. a tomato tumbles out onto the floorboard. he wonders if he is hallucinating—he thought he had been doing so well in the moving-on-from-you department too. 

“kageyama!” he finds himself flustered at the lack of formalities coming from you. 

“kuroo-san? w–what are you doing here?” how did you even find where he lives? 

“didn’t you send me that text to drop by if i visit italy? you didn’t tell me you changed your mind.” you help him with the bags as he fumbles with his keys. why won’t the key fob just orient itself properly? 

wait, the text? he didn’t text you, did he? finally, the lock on his front door registers the presence of the fob and unlocks. he realizes belatedly, as you set down his groceries on the kitchen floor, that he must have accidentally sent you the text that was meant for hinata. 

no wonder hinata never said anything about it. 

kageyama wisely chooses not to mention his mistake to you. he listens to you point out a few things you’ve noticed in your trip so far—the gorgeous architecture, the gelato storefronts that seem to line every other block, the mouthwatering food you tried so far—patiently waiting for you to explain this bizarre situation to him. 

it is extremely out-of-character for you to show up unannounced, and not to mention, formalities and boundaries be damned. and you are rambling, seemingly nervous, your tell of tucking your hair behind your ear giving you away. 

so he nods along with you, commenting here and there, pretending like all of this is normal (when none of it is) as you make yourself at home at his kitchen island, telling him stories while watching him put his groceries away.

kageyama could almost pretend that this is your domestic life. one in another world where the gods favored him.

he recognizes the glint of wildness in your eyes, the look when you take a leap of faith, uncalculated faith, trusting, hoping that you will land on the other side safely. 

“say, if, if aeroitalia smi roma gave me an offer to join them here in italy next season. what would you do if you were me?”

aeroitalia smi roma. here in italy. a barrage of questions appear, one that especially looms above them all. his eyes wander to your hands, noting the absence of the gold band on your ring finger. he tamps down on the blind hope rising to the surface of his heart. 

“i would take it. they’re one of the best in italy.” but what about kuroo-san?

you nod at his statement, mostly to yourself. he registers the faraway look in your eyes as you turn to look out the window at the busy streets below. 

he could almost taste the hope on his tongue, could almost imagine a life shared with you, doing groceries together, having you stare out his kitchen window as you are now on a lazy saturday afternoon, a cup of steaming hot latte in your hands. almost.

“could i ask you for a favor?” 

“anything.” he breathes. 

another lifetime where you would barrage him to decorate his relatively empty apartment, its four plaster walls empty and unused, to make his place feel like a home. 

“i am going to need a tour guide when i come back.” you look pointedly at him. 

he tries not to let his smile shine through too much. “when you come back?”

this lifetime where he would take anything you are willing to offer, make his peace with it. it has been so long he’s almost forgotten it, how easy it was to be around you, natural as breathing, familiar as a volleyball in between his palms. 

as though he’s a desolate tree that survived all winter, the chill that festered in his bones being chased away by your warm gentle rays of sunlight from the unexpectedly early spring.

“you know, if aeroitalia did give me an offer.”

“i have barely been here for a year.” he laughs, coming to a stop next to you, staring out at the streets.

“still barely a year longer than me. plus, you can speak some italian, right?” you elbow him. 

“i guess i will see you then, huh?” he tilts his head at you, dimples showing. you smile back at him—barely, a ghost of what it used to be. 

he makes a vow to the gods that he would do anything to bring it back. anything.

“i’ll be two doors away if you need me.” you think kageyama was being polite as he helped you lug your suitcases up twelve flights of stairs with the elevator undergoing maintenance. 

you bang your head on the wall in embarrassment. what exactly were you thinking when you showed up at kageyama’s apartment last month, and then pestered him with your stupid questions about moving to italy?

oh my god. he was probably just being polite and didn’t know how to tell you off. your relationship with kageyama had been strictly work-related, but you went off the rails, too worried about the move to italy while finalizing your divorce to be anxious over what he thought of you. 

you ignore the uneasiness in your chest as you fish your phone out, feeling a buzz from it. 

it’s a text from kageyama. you alright over there? shit. that was the wall between your apartments, wasn’t it? you text back a yep! before letting your shame out in a silent scream. 

you make quick work of putting your essentials away, clothes, toiletries, packed food ingredients (as kageyama suggested), and some miscellaneous things that you managed to fit in two suitcases. the apartment came furnished, and two suitcases wasn’t much to begin with, having left most of the items from your previous marriage behind. 

the sun is setting by the time you finish. the apartment looking just a little less vacant with your jacket strewn over the back of your couch, sauces and seasonings dotting the space next to the stovetop for now. 

it’s not home, but it will do, for the time being. until you could fill in the missing fixtures and appliances, like a coat hanger for the front door, some bathroom necessities, kitchen knives. the list grows by the second as you survey your new space from where you are curled up by the kitchen window.

you lean your head against the wooden panels, admiring the yolk-colored ball of fire casting its final rays of light over the bustling city before darkness falls, much like flipping the last page of the chapter. 

you stay there until the last strand of sunlight disappears over the horizon, rome now enveloped in specks of yellow. the sun will rise again tomorrow, it’s time to start a fresh page. 

still, it feels odd knowing you are the only one who will walk through the front door every evening, that you have this space all to yourself. 

your habitual tadaima slipping from your lips to no one in particular as you cross the threshold of your apartment, not that kuroo was ever present physically or mentally to welcome you home with a responding okaeri. on days when he came home after you (which was most), he often beelined for the shower, briefcase left at the front door, which he would come back to later, flipping through project documents past working hours. 

you could probably count on ten fingers the handful of times that he even noticed your presence in the living room and mumbled a tadaima before tugging off his tie in the last year of your marriage. 

it is easy to forget how much your life has changed during the day, occupied with the pace of practice and the frenzy of filling your apartment. so easy to gloss over the kuroo-shaped hole in your heart when the sound of the cities floods out the voices in your head. 

when the night falls, and the city quiets, that’s when it gets loud. the sound of nothing, the crackling static gets so deafening in your ears, your mind, overwhelming your senses. 

the realization that you really left everyone who’s ever loved you behind in japan to find something new, different in a foreign country, its tongue that you are struggling to decipher, the loneliness of being abroad. 

the hollowness in your chest that amplifies the nothingness in your ears. 

you have taken a liking to the city nightscape, eyes staring out at nothing in particular as you sit by the window by your lonesome, trying your very best to adapt and learn to be comfortable alone in your spacious apartment. to allow your thoughts and fears and hopes to speak to you while the static buzzes in the background, acknowledging them and letting them flow over and through you. 

i hear you. 

it gets easier to breathe the more you sit by the window overlooking the city. the sense of loss that once pressed on you at every waking moment dulls to a quiet throb. 

you look out the window, where the first rays of sunlight peek over the city, dancing through the window and illuminating your kitchen in its softness, loosening a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

it’s the first morning you actually see the sunrise, legs cramping, as the sun climbs over the horizon, wishing you a good morning, since you moved in weeks ago. 

it feels like deja vu as kageyama tobio finds you outside his apartment door, arm poised to knock on it, except you don’t. still as a statue, you stand frozen in doubt, the only movement from your fingers flexing and curling catching his eye. 

even the shadows themselves seem to curl tighter around you as he approaches you carefully, as if you were a wild animal emerging from hibernation that would vanish back into the darkness at the slightest disturbance. 

the gods must be over the moon with the new creative ways they are coming up with to toy with his heartstrings. the roles so starkly reversed between you and him, his once brilliant sun reduced to mere echoes of its former glory, leaving him to play what used to be your role and bring you out of your shell.

kageyama wonders if it would be appropriate if he poked fun at you the way you used to at him,  if he would be overstepping his lines. then again, the lines had been blurred and redrawn over the past month, he thinks, remembering the first time you reached out to him after dropping by without notice, not really volleyball related.

hey! what should i bring to italy? you had texted him, the bubble showing that you’re still typing. like stuff you can’t get there.

he had thought long and hard about it before replying—curry cubes. perhaps that one was too specific, as he follows up with another text. sorry. anything you like to eat in japan, it’s hard to get japanese ingredients here. you had reacted to his message with a heart and left it at that.

and then more random messages. 

do i need to bring a rice cooker? probably not…? i bought mine here. [image attachment] maybe i should bring one… 

kageyama couldn’t help but laugh at that one. did you really have such specific preferences?

hey, do you think rome has nice soy sauce? just bring it.

how cold does it get there? tokyo is much colder, just bring your lighter coats.

he could just try. what’s the worst that could happen, right?

“hey.” he feels bad as you flinch at his sudden appearance, having half a mind to scurry back to the safety of your apartment, but it was too late—you have been spotted. “the door isn’t going to bite.”

“oh, hey, i wasn’t sure if you were home.” you rub the back of your head sheepishly. 

“our practice ended late, what’s up?” he spies the stack of curry cube packages under your other arm, the thought of you remembering the stupid text he sent without thinking and bringing him all those boxes from japan making him flush. 

he puts a mental hand over his heart to calm it from jumping out of his ribcage into your hands.

gods above, the effect that you have on him with every little gesture, all of them flying blissfully over your head. that’s one thing he can thank the gods for, at least.

you hand him the stack, tucking a stray curl of hair behind your ear. “a token of appreciation for all your troubles, kageyama.”

and because he was feeling a little bold, he jokes, “are you the same y/n who turned up at my door a month ago?” 

“oh, you’re one to speak,” you roll your eyes, the corners of your lips twitching in a small smile. “there are two wolves in me, okay? one is batshit nuts, you know her, the one you see on court. the other one is me, and you drew the short stick today.”

kageyama knows he’s nowhere close to getting over you with the way the smallest hint of a smile from you sends his heart skittering, the way he is offering up everything he has to the role he has been asked to play so that you might shine freely once again, not for him but for you.

despite the stamped out selfish hope that maybe, maybe you might fall for him this time, he earnestly wants to weather the passing storm by your side, so you might walk out to clear blue skies, cloudless and unburdened. so you might smile freely once more, even if it's not meant for him. 

“wanna come in? i’m making pasta for dinner.” he holds up the bag of groceries he picked up from the corner shop on the way home. 

you hesitate, not unwillingly, more so from not wanting to intrude on his personal space. “you don’t have to—”

“you’ve already shown up unannounced once, what’s another?” 

you flush with embarrassment at the thought of that time. not your brightest moment. “gods, will you ever let me live that down? i really don’t want to be a bother.”

“c’mon, you’re not. promise.” he gestures for you to enter his apartment. 

you lean against his counter awkwardly as you watch him lay out the ingredients, prepping the table surface to actually make pasta from scratch. he notes the surprise on your face.

“i actually can’t cook very well, but making pasta is surprisingly therapeutic.” kageyama explains while he measures out the flour and salt, making a well in the center of the mixture to crack the eggs in. he whisks the eggs before slowly stirring in the flour mixture methodically. 

“wanna try?” he offers after seeing the entranced look in your eyes. you nod, scrubbing your hands with soap before taking over the kneading of the pasta dough from kageyama.

he watches you quietly as you poke the tip of your tongue out the side, attention completely focused on folding and pressing the dough and repeating the motion, taking note of the downward turn of the corners of your eyes, the haunted look in your eyes when you forget to hide it. 

your hand waving in his face breaks him out of his thoughts. “kageyama?”

“what happened to your formalities?” he blurts. where is the line between us?

you give him a questioning look. 

he corrects himself, “i’m kageyama-san to you, and you’re kuroo-san to me, remember?”

“oh, that. i’m not kuroo-san anymore. we finalized our divorce before i moved here. if you prefer that, i can go back to calling you kageyama-san.” you brush your divorce off as if it is ancient history, as if it doesn’t leave an emptiness in your chest where you used to feel love for him. 

“i’m sorry to hear that.” he shouldn’t have asked. for various reasons not limited to the way the hope in him perks its head up at the confirmation that kuroo is out of your life for good. 

“it’s fine, it’s been coming, i just chose to look the other way.” you squint at the dough, suddenly kneading it with more force, your previous child-like delight now gone at the mention of your failed marriage. 

kageyama really shouldn’t have asked. he hates to be the one who took away your fun and soured your mood with that question. that you still look devastatingly beautiful despite the sorrow etched in your soul. 

“you can call me tobio. since we are friends outside of work now.” he hopes that his hair is covering the warm tips of his ears.

“sure,” you shrug, “you know you’re the only one who called me that or oumae-san anyway, right? old man.”

“oh wow, going right to insulting me. is this your other wolf appearing?” he shoots back drily as he nudges you out of the way. “go put something on the tv, we need to rest the dough for twenty minutes.”

your clear and bright laughter fills his apartment as you back out of the kitchen, hands up in surrender, a sparkle in your eyes and that smile appearing on your lips, chasing away the darkness. 

he thinks this may not be as hard as he thought after all, playful banters with you. anything to chase away your ghosts. 

and suddenly the one-bedroom apartment feels like home to kageyama tobio. 

months slip by, summer’s warmth finally giving way to crunchy leaves beneath your feet and cool breezes caressing your skin softly with a lover’s touch. 

kageyama tobio and you are nothing if not creatures of routine, taking turns at your apartments during the weekdays to make dinner since it’s so much easier to make dinner for two than one and significantly time-saving to not have to go through the twenty steps of cooking by yourself every day.

though you find yourself at his apartment more than yours, his skillful hands diligently prepping ingredients, slicing them with precision, following the recipe methodically with you as his assistant (who lounges at kitchen island a little too much, head on hand, watching him work, because gods, his hands, larger than your own, fingers unbelievably slender and elegant despite all the training he puts them through. you are envious of them, and just a tad obsessed.) 

tobio would catch you staring sometimes, and you would look away, pretend to be unfazed, ignoring the blood racing through your veins. gods really do have a favorite. 

you grew to enjoy his company, so unlike the quiet solitude of home that you were used to. his dry humor and his quiet steady presence. his cooking, really. you wonder what his fans would make of that, since he had once admitted to being a bad cook in an interview that lives on somewhere on the internet. 

perhaps that precision of his is the reason the food he makes tastes so sinfully delicious on your tongue. 

you had felt restless at first, unused to having so much time on your hands after being used to spending most of your own free time for more practice, more work, since kuroo was rarely home before the late hours of the night. 

it never quite felt like home without him in that ninety-five square meter apartment—larger than most middle class homes yet so devoid of life and love that makes somewhere home. the luxury that you were able to afford given the size of your paychecks was never quite put to good use in those two years of your marriage.

“i’m feeling like some gelato today, want some?”

kageyama joins you out on the balcony, wiping his wet hands on the black cat apron you bought for him on a whim—a gift. it reminded you of his image in most people’s minds, a hissy and fussy cat who hates people, and to be honest (and maybe a little biased), you do enjoy that side of him. 

it’s endearing, especially since you’re one of the few special humans that the picky cat likes. he really does act like a cat. 

he had moved to italy a year before you, and being more familiar with the local culture, quickly became your go-to person to help you navigate the everyday life responsibilities from setting up your internet to the oddly laxed city disposal system. or the unlucky time your air conditioning stopped working in the peak of summer, barely weeks into your new apartment, your broken italian barely any help as you attempt to call a technician. 

you remember having to resort to knocking on his door with a sheepish smile, rambling about the bind you were in and asking him if he could talk to the technician on your behalf. he had nodded, taking the phone from you and speaking into it, italian rough but so much more fluent than yours. his usually deep solemn voice just half a pitch higher and more expressive.

his unresponsiveness had you twiddling your thumbs in nervousness as he padded into your apartment, still on the phone and with you following closely, and proceeded to slam a fist into the side of the air conditioning unit before turning it back on. 

the unit sputtered to life and you sighed in relief. “oh thank the gods.”

“the technician said he’ll stop by tomorrow in the evening because he has other calls to attend to from the unusually hot weather. i’ll be back from practice by then.” 

“thank you, tobio.” you had smiled at him gratefully. you hated having to rely on other people for help with things that you should be able to do on your own, so accustomed to being hyperindependent, but tobio makes it easy to come to him for help. mostly due to the fact that he never makes you feel bad about asking for help, even though you do still feel bad about bothering him with all the stupid everyday life problems. 

you had somehow wormed your way into his life and he had graciously allowed you to stay beyond all the times that you needed his help, steadily and unknowingly becoming your dearest friend. 

you hum in response, giving gelato another thought since the air is turning chilly as the sun dips lower over the horizon, dusk creeping closer by the minute. “sure, why not?”

now, walking through the streets of rome at dusk in the cool autumnal weather for gelato was not what you expected when you agreed to it. you had expected smooth cold gelato melting on your tongue in the comfort and warmth of tobio’s apartment. not this.

goosebumps scattered across your skin under your sweater, teeth chattering slightly thanks to the cold dessert dropping your body heat further. your stubborn ass had rejected tobio’s offer of a jacket at the door, thinking your sweater would be warm enough for the autumn breezes. 

apparently not if you’re eating gelato.

you didn’t have the heart to tell him no after finding out that the little trip would entail trekking fifteen minutes into the city and then back, with gelato, on a cool autumn night. 

tobio has a way of making you go along with his whims without even trying. 

you let out another shiver, cold fingers gripping the paper cup. he stifles his low chuckle by stuffing another spoonful of gelato in his mouth. 

“what?” you narrow your eyes at the man, challenging him to say it. i told you so.

he shrugs, licking his spoon clean. 

you look away from him, shoving the last mouthful of gelato between your cold cheeks and dumping the paper cup and spoon into a trashcan as you pass by.

a heavy warmth settles over your shoulders as you stick your hands into your pockets, surprise lining your eyes for a few seconds before realization sets in that tobio is draping his jacket over your shoulders. 

tobio, who’s always known what you needed when you needed it. tobio, who’s always done it without guilt tripping you, no ‘i told you so’s or ‘you should have listened to me’s. tobio, who welcomed you into his life and stayed without asking for anything in return, his warm and steady presence providing you comfort just from knowing that he is right next to you. 

the light brushes against your elbows when you work in the kitchen, arriving just as you space out a little too much while waiting for the onions to cook or staring out the window, the task before you forgotten. the gentle touches that grounds you back to reality, a quiet reminder that you are not alone. 

you wonder if he knows how he makes you feel at ease, at home, and sometimes, when you catch a soft knowing smile on his lips at your boisterous laughter, you wonder if he is doing it with intention.

what kind of heroic deeds did you do in your past life to earn the favor of the gods?

you spin around to face him, only to have him take a step back as a biker zooms by, hands gripping your shoulders, pushing you away from the hazard, his back towards the open street. he glances back at the rider who is long gone, frowning at their carelessness. 

his cheeks are pink from the cold, navy eyes sweeping over you to check that you’re fine. 

“are you cold?” you ask him, hands already moving to return the jacket to its owner.

“no, keep it.” 

you nod your thanks and pull your arms through the sleeves. your silhouette drowns in his already oversized jacket. the remnants of his warmth and the thickness of his jacket keep you warm the entire way home, just as it always does. 

tobio shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of your apartments, towards home. tobio, who had teased you and laughed with you, sat with you in silence and talked to you over dinner, walked with you on that rocky path back towards the light. 

somewhere deep inside you, the smallest bud springs to life on a barren branch, hope, quiet and unsure, stirs in its dormancy.

the lines between you and kageyama tobio keep rewriting themselves. 

lines that were blurred and redrawn, over and over until the first lines were unrecognizable. it feels like drawing lines on sand, only to have waves wiping the slate clean, leaving you to hastily put down some semblance of a line. 

as if the gods are laughing in your face, telling you that you are wrong and to try again. 

so you threw the stick away. 

it was not a conscious decision, not at first. you had just accidentally let it slip, the thing that kept you up at night, the whispers that only quieted at the sight of the midnight skies. the endless expanse of it and the deep blue hues stretching as far as the eye could see, occasionally broken up by wafts of clouds floating through.

lighter than the dark skies of your hometown in rural japan where there was less light pollution from the sparse street lights dotting the farmlands. but it was the same skies, same stars light years away from earth that your obaasan taught you to navigate with if you ever got lost in the forest behind your home. 

the home you left behind to chase after your dreams in the city, and with it, your grandmother. the home you left again once more to outrun your bad decisions. 

tobio, to his credit, had listened intently to you on his balcony that night, both of you sitting cross-legged with your backs against the door, elbows grazing lightly, and assured you that your fears were in fact, not stupid. 

maybe it’s his comforting presence, or the way he ponders over the secrets you handed to him without judgment, but you seem to spill at the seams when he is around, unafraid to bare your soul to your—kindred spirit. maybe it’s the words that fall from his lips meant only for you, roughly thrown together, not without care, merely earnest and unembellished, sincerity clear in his focused gaze. 

though certainly, bringing up one of your deepest fears in the middle of a farmer’s market was the last thing on your mind, and tobio’s, you are sure. yet here you are, words pouring out from your heart at the sight of flowers, one of the last hurdles that still sticks tall. 

“do you think one day i won’t be broken anymore?” you gently thumb the soft petal of an amaryllis, feeling the ever so slight give under the pad of your thumb grounding you from the pain that your memories brought to the surface. 

tobio frowns at your words—he hates them. “you’re not broken.” if you were not in public, with people weaving around the different stalls, he might have tried to shake some sense into you, literally. 

oh, if only he knew. your heart twists, hand dropping to your side, flower forgotten. “he was in love with the idea of me. with an olympic setter as his wife, the trophy to his jva corner office. and i was too blind to see it, even tricked myself into thinking that i was in love, when really all along, we were just in pain.” 

you point at where your heart resides, finger digging into the soft flesh cushioning your sternum. “in here. i’m irreversibly broken deep in here. some part of me that rots in the darkness, never able to see the light of day. despite having fallen out of love with him months ago, stopped expecting anything from him, i fear that i’m still broken, tobio.”

the tip of your index finger—and nail—turning white with the amount of force you’re prodding yourself with. as if you wished you could pluck the beating broken but healing organ out of your chest and replace it with an undamaged one. nothing but a strangled mess of scarred tissue growing over old wounds that bleed with ease, too much ease. still fucking broken. 

“you are more than that. more than that wounded part of yourself that you’re healing. you’re not broken.” he deftly draws your hand away from yourself, holding it because he wanted to, drawing circles into the back of your hand to remind you that you are not alone. the crowd melts away, leaving the two of you in your bubble of imagined intimacy. “you’re not broken.”

“i can’t even look at my favorite flowers without being reminded of the times he would buy them as a late apology and a rain check he never made up for. and i would wonder if there’s something wrong with me, some explanation as to why having a husband is no more different than not having one.” you blink rapidly, fingers tightening on his hand as if he could keep the helplessness at bay that way. “some reason as to why it felt more like living with a stranger i love under the same roof in that last year. he just had something to prove and i just wanted him to love me.”

“when you find the right person, they will love you the way you deserve to be loved, with everything they have. they will make sure you never doubt yourself ever again.” tobio pins you with a determined stare, the words weighing heavy on his heart, knowing that he might have you to himself in this very moment, but not forever. not forever. 

does he have to watch you fall in love this time? gods, they really have it out for him. would he even survive it this time? 

you falter, hand around his slacking in defeat. “you don’t know that.” 

you cannot fathom anyone choosing to love you, with all the jagged edges and uncertainty. 

“i know that you deserve more than him, so don’t settle for anything less than you do. trust that the right person will come along.” he says it with so much conviction that you could have mistaken him for one of the gods that chart your destiny. 

you wanted to ask him why—why he seems to believe that with his whole heart despite yourself—but the brush on your sleeve from a passing shopper breaks you out of the imaginary depths of your fears, shattering the illusion of privacy. 

what had gotten into you today? 

you recover from your momentary meltdown in public, instincts to guard and deflect kicking in among the many ears that could be listening to a conversation that should have been kept behind closed doors. “are you speaking from experience?” 

“never been in a relationship, actually.” he smiles a wistful smile at you, deciding to release his hold on your hand—as if he himself also just remembered that you are in the public eye. 

“huh, i would have thought otherwise.” 

tobio rolls his eyes playfully at your teasing. “don’t even start, i know i’m not good with words.”

“no, really. it’s a wonder you haven’t been snatched up by anyone yet.” 

“now you're just flattering me because you want me to make the carbonara pasta that you’ve been begging me to make for the past week.” 

you gape at him, in disbelief that he would use that against you when you are doing nothing but giving him a sincere compliment.

“i’m being real here. whoever you choose to love would be lucky to have you. and if they don’t feel that way, it’s their loss, really.” you gesture with an outsplayed hand, turning back to the selection of flowers, wandering down the row of autumnal varieties. 

tobio presses two fingers to his temple, sighing as he mutters under his breath, exasperated words a soft whisper on the breeze, “too bad she’s too dense to realize it.”

he panics a little at the thought of you picking his words up as you turn around with your head tipped to the side in confusion, “what did you say?”

“nothing, just that the amaryllis is pretty. you should get it.” he blurts, just happy that his muddled brain was able to come with something on the spot. never mind that he just name dropped a flower, one of many that he learnt because you once loved them, still do, it seems, just tainted by your past. 

you shake your head at him, already looking forward. “it’s alright, let’s go look at the other stalls.” moving on from the remnants of a relationship you moved to italy to outrun, and leaving them behind. 

“wait,” a sudden thought pops into tobio’s mind, and he decides to do it without letting himself overthink it. before he loses his courage. 

you watch quietly as he picks out a stalk of carnation, a dusty pink that lightens slightly towards the tip of the petal and hands it to the shopkeeper, exchanging a few words before paying and returning with a very short stem. 

“i know you still love flowers even though they are tainted by your past,” tobio swallows, hoping he does not fuck this up like he always seem to with his words, “but i want you to know that you deserve flowers just because. it doesn’t have to be an apology, or a special occasion. you deserve them just because you like them, simple as that.”

he takes a step closer to you, watching you carefully for any hints of discomfort or anguish that you might try to hide from him for his sake—hoping that you are comfortable around him enough not to. 

you find yourself holding in your breath as you meet his eyes, mesmerized by the blue of his irises up close, warm cobalt shades dancing in the light, as if they were welcoming you, reminiscent of the night skies that fall after dusk, the same navy hues that lull you to safety. 

he tucks your hair behind your ear, his touch featherlike as he slips the carnation over the crest of your ear. “there. one day the first thought that crosses your mind when you see them will not be of him, but of how pretty they are again.”

a blink. “thank you.” the words are choked, as a wave of emotions envelop you whole. you throw your arms around him haphazardly, hugging him tightly with your eyes squeezed shut for fear of your tear ducts betraying you, leaning on him for balance with your weight on the tip of your toes because of his height. 

you yield to his warmth, comforted by his arms sliding into place around you, the familiarity tugging on a memory that you cannot seem to recover, a nagging feeling of something you forgot as seconds tick by. 

“thank you, tobio.” you say it again, releasing him shyly when you realize that you held on for moments too long, brushing at your eyes with the back of your hand for any stray tears, chuckling lightly at how emotional you are being. 

somehow it feels as if a weight has been lifted off your chest after hearing his words. 

“you are loved, y/n, by your family and friends, and your fans. you are the setter who will dethrone kageyama tobio’s rule of the court, remember?” 

you recognize the quote from one of the japanese magazines that you and tobio managed to get a hold of. it makes you laugh—the type that sends tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, leaving you breathless and light and feeling like everything will be alright—and you smile at him.

it feels strangely like coming home after a long day. 

there is a twinkle in your eyes, the return of your genuine self as you ask, “and what of kageyama tobio?”

your smile hits him like the first ray of warm sunlight when snow melts away to reveal the tiny buds sprouting at the nodes of tree branches, that first truly warm day after winter when you know that spring is here. and just like the trees that have weathered the cold season, you are shaking off the cold in your bones, ready to bloom again. 

that pureness in your smile—the invisible pull that drew him into your orbit almost three years ago now emerging reforged.

gods, you are nothing short of devastating. he knows he will never be able to love anyone else like he loves you, describing it as intense does not do it justice. try all-encompassing and consuming, leaving him defenseless and dazed and wanting more. 

is that wrong of him to feel that way? that if given a choice by the gods to do it all over again, he would still choose to love you? that there is nothing he would not do, no hell he would not descend, no winter he would not weather, just to see you smile at him unadulterated?

“he believes that you are the queen of the court.”

your smile does not falter. it deepens, reaching your eyes, curving them into joyful crescents that send his heart thundering at an inhuman pace. 

“thank you for being here. i am beginning to realize what it means to live.” you make me want to live. the unspoken words hanging in space between you. 

for the first time in a very long time, tobio finds himself praying to the gods that have long abandoned him. he can only hope that they are listening. 

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (gen) @mintgrumpy @noble-17 @box-of-roses (tobio nation) @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone (add yourself here)

a/n. i sprinkled lots of little details in this one hehehe (like how it is apartment to tobio before it becomes a home) how many did you find? *giggles while plotting* it's fluffier than i intended so i hope you enjoyed <33

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

[blainesebastian]

unexpected (ccg universe)

words: 3,865 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: PG summary: i have gotten so many second baby pregnancy requests from anons that i can't even post them all lol but convos with @stylespresleyhearted finally pushed me over the edge 🤧 notes: ccg universe masterlist here, regular masterlist here

Here’s the thing—maybe at this point in your life, you should just assume that things aren’t going to happen as you expect they will.

Nothing wrong with that, right?

You didn’t expect to work on a movie set with Austin Butler. You didn’t expect to fall in love with him, that he’d love you in return. You didn’t expect to date, get married, or have a baby.

And you certainly didn’t expect to get pregnant for the second time.

Yet here you are.

--

Finding out you’re pregnant again is an absolute blur. For starters, you take three different (yes, three) tests to make sure. It wasn’t something you both were planning, but things happen, and there wasn’t any use in bringing it up to Austin until you were one hundred percent sure. Well—three tests later, two blue lines, one plus and one PREGNANT later…

You sit on the tests for about a day, unsure when and what to tell your husband. Which is…so silly because it’s not like you’re not happy? You’re just scared. You think you know how he’s going to react, but then again, things are crazy with Luci running around in her terrible twos and both of your schedules filled with films and meetings and outings.

Is there time for another baby?

You and Austin are making breakfast with Luci when you finally decide to just tell him. You hold onto your breath so long that you start to feel dizzy before passing him one of the tests when he asks for a fork.

His long fingers wrap around the test and he kinda blinks before his head snaps to you.

“Really?” He asks.

Your eyes fill with tears before you quickly nod, “Yeah,” You reply breathlessly, “Yeah.” You swallow, curling your hair around your ear, “I know it’s not something we really talked about but…if…if you’re happy—”

“Happy?” Austin interrupts, setting the test on the counter. He shakes his head, voice gruff with emotion. He knows you, knows you far too well. “Of course I’m happy,” He quickly moves to where you’re standing, cupping your face with both hands. “I couldn’t be happier.”

That seems to crack open a dam inside of you and you laugh, the sound coming out wet as your hands wrap around his wrists, “Really?”

He grins, nodding, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Really.” He says against them before slipping to the floor. He kneels in front of you, hugging you around your middle, pressing a few kisses that are way too ticklish to your belly.

Luci has no idea what’s going on other than she wanders over with her stuffed dino, sees her father kneeling on the floor, and then proceeds to make her dino kiss your leg.

“Kisses.”

Austin laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as he pulls back. He moves to scoop your daughter up, standing up off the floor.

“Can we give mama a kiss?” He asks her, leaning her forward until Luci plants a big kiss to your cheek.

Letting out a soft sound, you move to thread your fingers through one of Luci’s haphazard ponytails, “What do you think about havin’ a brother or sister, Luc?”

There’s a long moment, you’re not sure if she completely understands what you’re talking about. But then— “No thank you.” Honestly, you have no idea why you expected any other answer.

You and Austin can’t help but grin.

--

Turns out, ‘unexpected’ seems to be the theme for this entire pregnancy.

--

Something that you and Austin decided right away was that this pregnancy was going to be a bit different in terms of spotlight. Obviously family members and really close friends would get to know, but everything else? That’s last on the list. Neither of you have any regrets when it came to Luci, how public it all was. But keeping this more private this time around feels like a good change of pace, not to mention it’ll be a lot less stressful for you and the baby.

It seems to be exactly what you need, because—

“What are you saying?” You ask your doctor, your grip on Austin’s hand tight and unnerved.

The doctor draws in a soft breath, flipping through your chart, “It’s just something we want to keep an eye on,” He says gently, too gentle. Your hormones are already out of whack and you can’t handle someone babying you.

“You said I was high-risk.” Your voice takes on a grating edge you don’t recognize and Austin attempts to soothe you by drawing his thumb back and forth on your knuckles.

“I said the pregnancy was high-risk.” The doctor looks at you both, “It can happen sometimes with second times around. Not to mention that your stress levels tend to be a bit elevated in general.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek. You know you’ve always had a bit of anxiety, usually when it came to making big decisions in your life—career paths, family moves, relationships, those sorts of things. Creating a space for yourself knee-deep in the film industry didn’t help that, either, but you’ve never had any regrets.

Not until this shadow of a doubt within this very moment.

“It’s just something to keep an eye on.” The doctor repeats, as if that’s helping anything.

Austin seems to sense that you’re about to have Luci-level tantrum with your doctor so he clears his throat and nods, “Thanks doc, we’ll be in touch.”

He nods, setting your chart down in the wall slot before heading out of the exam room, closing the door behind him.

You let out a long sigh, running both hands over your face, grateful that Jillian has Luci for the afternoon so you could go to this appointment without a two-year-old unleashing her antics in whatever room you’re in. Love her to death but there’s no way you’d be able to emotionally handle that, you’re barely keeping it together right now.

Scratch that—your lower lip wobbles as your eyes meet Austin’s.

“Oh babe,” Austin says softly, standing so that he can slip between your legs while you’re sitting on the exam table, “Don’t.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the bone.

“I can’t help it,” You reply, wanting to pull away from him, but he won’t let you. “I feel like this is my fault.”

“You can’t think like that,” Austin leans down and presses his lips along your forehead, “The important thing is that we know about it and we can plan for it.” He pulls away just enough to look down at your eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

“We wanted you further out of the spotlight with this one anyways, you know? This’ll work out.” His voice is soothing in a way you can’t describe, like it slips along your body like silk, pulling you close, hugging you.

You nod softly, your eyes closing as he cups your cheek again, his other arm wrapping around your frame.

“We’ll figure this out.” Austin promises, “Alright? You’re gonna be okay—the both of you.”

And maybe that’s what you really need to hear. You nod again, leaning forward to slide your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his chest. You face finds the familiar crook of his shoulder, breathing in his scent, something cologne and purely him.

You’re so unsure about everything, and yet within those few moments, you believe him and nothing else.

--

It’s frustrating but unfortunately necessary and you don’t fight it, even when you eventually (Austin pushes) talk to your agent about everything that’s going on. You feel like it’s bad luck to bring up a pregnancy to someone who isn’t family so early, but you need that open line of communication. You have to put some projects on hold—not everything, not yet. But some.

The more time that passes and the more pregnant you become, you begin to slowly slip out of the public eye. It’s a slow drip, but it increasingly becomes more noticeable with ridiculous social media headlines and TikTok theories.

You try not to dive head first into any of them (even though some are entertaining). The gossip and drama is that you and Austin are separated, getting divorced, that you haven’t been seen together out and about in a ‘really long time’, so naturally this is what’s happening.

“Did you hear?” You ask him one afternoon when he comes home with groceries. You smile at him from where you’re sprawled out over the couch, “I’m ‘taking you for all your worth’.”

Austin snorts an amused sound, toeing off his shoes. He wanders over to the couch and lets out a long sigh, gently laying himself down so that he slips between your legs. Your bump doesn’t allow him to rest fully against you, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. He presses a few kisses to the swell, hand slipping to your side and fingers massaging a bit of your lower back. Honestly, bless him.

“You can have it all.” He teases.

The pitter-patter of tell-tale feet run down the hallway from one of the bedrooms, “Daaadddeeee.” Luci exclaims, rounding the couch covered in—

“Is that paint?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

She at least has a little bit of decency to look impish but her wide smile hasn’t left her father. You shake your head, running your fingers through Austin’s hair. He reaches an arm out and circles it around Luci, tugging her closer. She giggles instantly as he plants a kiss to where there isn’t paint, but honestly, there’s not many options.

“You paintin’ masterpieces in there, Picasso?”

“She’s gonna have to if we’re getting divorced.” You laugh, “My ‘high-priced’ lawyer will need paid.”

Austin rolls his eyes, tilting his head back to look at you, “Please stop readin’ that crap.”

You smile, trailing your fingers down the long lines of his jaw. You brush your thumb over a spackle of freckles under his one eye—beauty marks that you love. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s funnier than anything else. Besides, the fans are loyal and have a different theory. One that is more correct.”

A soft sigh leaves your husband’s nose. He doesn’t seem to be thrilled that you’re diving into those threads either but isn’t about to say anything about it. You get it, he’s protective, you’ve been burned and hurt by tabloids, quick media and nasty fan comments before. But…regardless that this second pregnancy is more delicate than the last, despite the fact that your feet hurt, you’re starting to feel uncomfortable all the time and your back is sore…you’re happy.

You’re really happy.

It doesn’t matter what anyone says, you know the truth.

Austin pulls away from you on the couch, much to your dismay, and scoops up your daughter. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead,

“I’m gonna give the gremlin a bath—”

“With bubbles!” Luci declares and Austin smirks.

“With bubbles,” He agrees, “And then I’m gonna give you a back rub.”

You groan softly because that sounds amazing, you can’t wait. “Did I mention the whole divorce thing is off, you’re the best husband a girl could ask for.”

Austin rolls his eyes again but at least he’s smiling this time as he leans down to kiss you. “Baby you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” He says against your lips and presses another kiss to the corner before Luci smudges her fingers on your cheek.

Austin playfully taps her butt as he carries her away, “Mommy is not a canvas.”

You smirk, settling further into the couch and closing your eyes, listening to the hum of Austin’s muffled voice and Luci’s excitement as the water starts up in the bathroom. Thanks to your daughter, you now have an idea for the theme for a pregnancy photoshoot.

Second time around…why not, right?

--

Austin does his best to ignore the paps, he really does, but sometimes they dig under his skin in the worst ways. He's glad that you have been able to be home during this pregnancy, not only because it's a lot more relaxing, but because it's both healthier and less stressful for you and the baby. It's a boy, he's so sure of it. He's just got this feeling deep down in his chest, between his ribs, that you and him are gonna have a son. Time will tell. He holds Luci on his hip as he moves around Whole Foods, intending on getting some stuff to bring home. Your cravings have ranged from the things that make sense (ice cream, cheese) to things that don't (peanut butter on pickles...yeah that's a weird one). He lets out a long sigh, pushing the small cart with one hand as Luci dozes on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to her forehead, tugging Oreos off the shelf to set in the cart. She squiggles a little, letting out a breath and then continues to sleep. It's not a large list, he mostly just gets the essentials. He knows he could have this all delivered to the flat, but sometimes it's nice to get Luci out of there so she doesn't drive her mom crazy. Especially now since you don't move around as swiftly as you used to. He gets everything packed up into one grocery bag, moving to leave and head to the car. Not three minutes out, near the car, a swarm of paps are there. He lets out a long breath through his nose, figuring he should have expected it, given the dramatic stir up that's been happening since you have slowly disappeared from the public eye. And yet they're just as annoying as they've always been. Austin's always considered himself a nice guy, but nothing pisses him off like them snapping out questions about his family. "Austin!" One of them calls. He ignores them, trying to get the car door open to put Luci in her car seat. But of course, that doesn't stop them from asking questions. "Austin, can you tell us what's going on with Y/N?" "How's the divorce going!" "Are you talking about joint custody?" "What about Luci?" Austin feels a snap in his chest, something cold and unrelenting, because at the sound of his daughter's name, she begins to wake up. She's disoriented and confused, her hand coming up to rub one of her eyes. And he knows he shouldn't swear, but the questions feel like pinpricks in his skin, "Fuck off, guys." Luci whines softly and he gently bounces her against his hip. And then the cameras start snapping photos, flashes going off, and she turns her head quickly as Austin gets the door open. The series of movements, of men moving closer with those cameras, of the combined shouts of their voices asking too many questions—she squirms, those whines becoming little hiccups. Austin already knows what's coming as he tries to soothe her but it doesn't work. "Shhh," He whispers when Luci begins to cry, "I know baby, c'mon." He finally gets the door open, getting her in her car seat. He hates that he has to let her go but it's the only way they can get out of the fucking parking lot. He gets her strapped in, giving a look in the direction of the paps and reminds himself he can't go to jail because he decided to accidently run some of them over. He's already had to pay for a camera or two because he cracked them out of hands when they’ve shoved them into your face.

Checking his mirrors (begrudgingly), he pulls out of the spot and makes a turn to drive out, heading right towards home. There’s an underground parking garage that leads up to the loft and lots of security, so he knows it’s safe once the car slips underneath that gate that closes behind them.

He pulls into their designated spot, quickly getting out of the car and moving to open Luci’s door. She’s settled down into sniffles but once she gets her eyes on Austin, the waterworks start up again.

“I know,” He gentles his voice despite the annoyance he still feels, “I know. We got our nap interrupted, that’ll upset anyone.”

Austin reaches for her, hoisting her up into his arms to get her upstairs.

--

You can tell Austin’s annoyed when he comes in, the tension bracketing his shoulders, the way he carries your daughter into the kitchen to put down the groceries. You tug yourself up off the couch, swaying a moment before placing a hand on your stomach and moving towards where your husband has disappeared.

He’s put Luci down on the counter just long enough to grab a washcloth from a drawer and wet it with warm water, wandering back to carefully clean her face. You frown a little, seeing it tearstained. She’s fussy, pushing away her dad’s hands and that tells you more than enough—especially for Luci who tends to look at Austin like he’s hung the moon.

“What happened?” You ask softly, leaning against the counter.

Austin’s jaw works, “Paps.” Is all he says, all he’s willing to say right now.

You swallow over the lump in your throat, your hand moving back and forth over your belly, “I’m so—”

“No,” He cuts your apology off, firm but with no malice, “If anything this is just a good reminder about why we’re doin’ all of it this way.”

Letting out a breath, you nod—doesn’t mean you have to like it. Austin’s dealt with his fair share of paps before, but you know he gets riled up when it comes to them pushing buttons about you, about family.

You run your hand through Luci’s hair, pulling back to put away the groceries Austin brought home. Once he’s got her face wiped off, she begins asking for Cheerios and he raises his eyebrows,

“Thought you were gonna take a nap.”

Luci shakes her head, “No thank you.”

That seems to break the tension at least as Austin huffs out a light laugh and picks her up, putting her on the floor. “Of course not.”

You smirk, moving to grab her favorite plastic cereal cup and fill it with some dry Cheerios, handing them over.

Luci sprints out of the kitchen and heads down the hall to her bedroom, no doubt about to eat on the floor with her stuffed animals and begin playing with her dolls.

“We’re gonna miss when she was so agreeable.”

A laugh rumbles in Austin’s chest, “She’s already got a stubborn streak from you.”

You giggle so quickly that you nearly have to cover your mouth, “That comment is coming from you?”

Austin rolls his eyes but it’s with so much affection that it warms you up from the inside out. He lets out a long sigh and you can literally spot the moment that the tension disappears from his shoulders, rolls right off his body as he reaches for you to pull you close.

Or at the very least as close as he can with your belly between you both.

“You feeling alright today?” He asks, always checking.

You smile, nodding, “Only a month to go.” Hard to believe. “Think you can handle not punching anyone between now and then?”

Austin smirks and in one easy movement he picks you up to set you on the kitchen counter, his physicality making a heated pulse run down your spine and settle between your legs. Which is where Austin ends up, slipping between them. He brushes a kiss over the bridge of your nose, your cheekbone, and smiles against your lips.

“No promises.” Before kissing you.

--

You have a baby boy in August, and that is what you name him.

He’s perfect but that is unsurprising.

There are so many versions of Austin that you’ve easily fallen in love with—you once again decide that seeing him as a father is your favorite one.

--

Part of you wants to stay hidden away as you’ve done the past few months but you know at the end of the day that it’s not compatible with how often you and Austin are in the spotlight. And despite the nasty gossip and headlines you’ve seen circulating about how you and your husband were so obviously separating…it’s nice to see the reversal spin around the moment you post on your Instagram—

coffee.girl: the ratio is finally even in this house, austin is thrilled😉

jillian.mua: love you mama😭 austinbutler: ❤️ buzzfeedceleb: WE KNEW IT elvisfan: omg no way coffeecartgirlfan: Y/N really making news sources look like clowns today, we love to see it

You do, in fact, love to see it.

--

You swear that pregnancy hormones are still kicked into high gear because literally almost everything with this new baby makes you emotional, even a month later. Luci very passionately decides that the nursery needs to be painted a new color, which you and Austin don’t object to. Your husband chooses a variety of greens, things that range from avocado to seafoam and brings them all home. The ‘allure’ of choice for your daughter even though you and him have already picked the main color.

But Luci holds a few paint strips in front of August as he lays in a baby cushion on the floor that reminds you way too much of an oversized cat bed and shakes them enthusiastically.

“Which one?” She asks him, as if he could formulate a response. As if he doesn’t babble and grab his feet and giggle at his sister.

And that’s what makes you tear up because—Luci loves August, loves talking to him about everything, loves gently touching his hair and cheeks and…you can already tell she’s going to be a great, protective big sister. It’s more than you could have ever asked for.

Austin comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he watches the both of them. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Cryin’ over paint swatches now?” He teases.

You playfully elbow him in the side and he can’t help but let out a slight laugh, only pulling away to pick August up and settle him against his chest. He brushes a kiss over his still chubby cheek and Luci moves to hug around his leg.

“What’s the color choice?” He asks her and you move to lift Luci up too, smoothing some of her hair behind her ear.

“This one!” She grins, showing you both the seafoam color.

“Perfect.” You reply and August squeals out a wet giggle, clapping his hands together.

Austin moves to you, wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep you close and the conversation turns into plans about how this room is going to be painted, which shades of green go where. This might be the easiest decision you can make in a life that continues to have so many things that are unexpected.

But you wouldn’t trade that for anything.