#she sounds like such a baddie i want to fuck them both

[starmocha]

I can't get over him levitating in battle 😭

[r0s3s26]

He gave me the ewwwww!!!

Authors Note: Basically right, daichi was going to be apart of my “Watching you punch someone for hitting on you” head canons but it got too long and story got different so I am making it its own story:)) So enjoy!!

WC: 1170

(This must be the luckiest team in the world cause 3 baddie managers?!? Like what!!!. Anyways back to the story)

The team was at a volleyball tournament in tokyo, not for a prize, kinda like a very large training camp. As you, Kiyoko, and Yachi are setting up you realize that water bottles have not been filled yet. “Hey Kiyoko do you wanna help fill all the water bottles with me? A lot of them are empty and its easier with another person” She turns back to you and nods her head in agreement, she the turns to Yachi and says “Hey yachi we will be right back we are filling up water bottles, you got this by yourself” “Of course!” she says pretty loudly with a hint of nervousness. You playfully giggle a bit at it and say to the team “Be right back, and please don’t make us look bad” mainly staring at tanaka and noya. Daichi (your boyfriend) looks at you and smiles and says “don’t worry, they should know how to act by now” “shit i hope so” you reply.

At the water fountains

When we get there we see a bunch of other players from different teams there also. Kiyoko goes up and asks them to move over(politely) so we can fill up the bottles, but it doesn’t go as planned.

“Hello, excuse me, can you please move over a bit so we can fill up our team's water bottles?” The dudes look over and start to snicker to themselves, looking at each other with mischievous looks, “Yea sure thing sweetheart, once we get you and your other manager's number” He said looking at you from behind her, you gag a little in your mouth at him asking. You walk up from behind Kiyoko and say “Um no that's ok we don’t want your number we just wanna get our bottles filled” you roll your eyes after saying that, a nervous feeling sitting at the bottom of your stomach. “Oh so we aren’t good enough huh? We too ugly for you?” the other man said, raising his voice a bit”.

Back at the stadium

While this was going on Yachi was looking at her watch “Hey guys Y/n and Kiyoko have been gone for a bit, do you think they're ok?” she said with a bit of nervousness lace in her tone. Tanaka and Noya immediately shoot their heads up to the sound of you and Kiyoko's names “What do you mean have been gone for a long time? BY THEMSELVES?!?!” they yelled, making Yachi visibly nervous. Daichi noticed and started to get a little nervous too, but didn’t wanna show it. “Alright everybody calm down” he said, mainly looking at Tanaka and Noya when saying this, “How about me, Noya, Tanaka, and Suga go and look for them, everyone else stay here”. The rest of the team nodded as they got back to warming up. As the group starts looking for you and kiyoko they spot you both arguing with those players.

Back to you and Kiyoko…

“Dude we said fucking no how is that not clicking in your head?!” you yelled “Yea leave us alone” Kiyoko said back. Suga was the first to spot the situation going on and told Daichi first “Yo Daichi, over there, and I think those dudes are given them a hard time” he said with a calm tone, trying to be the rational one. The group immediately goes over to you guys and watch this scene unfold: After the guy called you and Kiyoko bitches the both of the dudes shoulder checked you both and called you sluts, you immediately turn around, grab the dude by the back of the shirt, and punch him in the face, over and over again(and scene).

Daichi immediately runs over and pulls you off of the guy “BABE CHILL I THINK HE GETS IT” he says while holding you in the air “No cause they don’t know when to fucking quit, wanna be fuckin disrespectful” you said trying to squrim out “You need to be put in a fuckin mental hospital, your crazy” The guy says holding his now swollen eye, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME” you yelled back. Daichis hold of you got tighter as he walked away with you close to his chest.

While Suga, Tanaka, and Noya walk away with Kiyoko back to the stadium, Daichi walks with you to a more secluded area of the building to try and calm you down. He sets you down on a bench and crouches to your level a bit as you sit, “Hey baby I know you're mad, but you gotta breathe with me ok?” he says in a soft tone that is still laced with concern, you breathe with him which starts to calm the molten hot feeling in your nerves. Daichi pulls you into a hug and you start laying on his chest, hearing his heartbeat makes you calm down fully. “I didn’t know you could punch that hard” Daichi says with a chuckle “It kinda scared the shit outta me, I thought you knocked him out” now its you who starts laughing also “Im sorry I scared you and Dai, I just couldn’t let him treat me and Kiyoko like that without repercussions, like what a fucking dick” you say becoming slightly annoyed again. “Hey hey hey it's ok my love, just ignore him” he looked at the clock “We also have to go because our game is about to start”, you immediately got up and started speed walking to the courts, “Well why didn’t you say that?!”.

When you two get there all eyes are on you, guessing that everyone's favorite duo already told the rest of the team. “Hey guys whats up-” “Did you really knock some guy out?!” Hinata shouted at you, Kageyama also chimed in “That is so badass” Yachi then asked “Is your hand ok?!?” you then interjected and said “No I did knock him out, and I actually didn’t check my hand yet, thank you for telling me”. You look down at your hand and see it's actually a little bloody “Holy shit how did I not feel this” you lift your fist up to Daichi, Asahi, and Suga, Asahi starts to gag a little at the sight of blood dripping down your fist while Daichi starts to panic a little bit again. “Omg Y/N your knuckles, you have to get them wrapped like right now or the scarring is going to look crazy-” “Daichi calm down im fine” you look at him with a bit of a deadpan stare.

You walk over to Kiyoko to get your wound cleaned but also to check in on her “Hey dear are you good?”(my bsf calls me dear and I think its cute lol) “Yes I am ok, thank you Y/N, but are you ok? Your hand is getting swollen. I gotta put ice on that ""Yea I’ll be good, I think Daichi is more worried than me honestly” you say with a small laugh. You sit with Kiyoko chatting and laughing as she cleans your wound, Daichi watches from afar with a smile, knowing that you would be ok.

Extra: Coincidentally the dude you just punched in the face is Karasuno’s first opponent for the tournament, let's just say they took it in 2 sets :).

Authors notes: I hope everyone likes it, this has been sitting my drafts for a while just festering lmao

[hannahwatcheshorror]

NO ESCAPE / FOLLOW ME (2020)

This movie is also called “Follow Me” sometimes… So there is that. Anyway, a social media star and his posse go to Moscow (Russia) to visit a super scary escape room but, as the title suggests, there is No Escape. I mean, there is an escape, and they make it out, but it is into a fresher Hell than they were already in.

⭐⭐⭐.5

Cole is a social media star who, along with his semi-annoying posse goes to Russia to do an escape room. Sounds sketchy? It is! When they first arrive they go clubbing and Cole’s girlfriend Erin gets assaulted in the club which is seriously not cool (and Cole was almost too busy vlogging to notice). After that they go to the escape room where things get a little scary pretty quick. First Cole is made to get a key out of a dead man's intestines and Cole accepts very quickly that he has to cut into this dead guy. I am not sure if it is because he thinks it is fake or what but he does it with very little complaint and digs around inside him too. Wack! It took a little more debate in the first Saw movie but here he just went slice happy.

Next he finds his friends in a myriad of torture devices like the rack, an electric chair, and a water tank. Cole is tasked with little minigames in order to free his friends, each getting more serious 'til he reaches his girlfriend, Erin, in the water tank and she nearly drowns. Okay, she sort of does drown but she coughs it back up, I mean, we WATCHED her swallowing the water (right?). At this point things are serious and the gang just wants to get out and go home (sad face). But they are trapped! They have to try and break out! So they escape the escape room but they escape to the harsh reality of they are in Russia and are fucked because the guys from the bar are here outside the escape room and are shooting everyone up. They are nice and take the Americans hostage though which was very unnecessary of them all things considered but it did make the movie last longer so I guess it was for plot reasons and not just out of the goodness of their hearts. 

At the bad guys hide away they are filming for Russian viewers who like to watch people get ripped up and killed (wack!) (also The Den). Cole has to watch one by one as his friends are murdered as he makes all sorts of attempts to escape, even getting a chance at one point to go off without saving the last two of his friends left, but he refuses, he must save his friends. I don’t know if he is brave, stupid, or both, but he goes back into enemy territory. He finds one friend but then promptly loses him to a baddie which was pretty rough, not gonna lie. And finally it is all down to him and his girlfriend. He wants to save her so badly and comes so close but then she gets shot in the head in front of him. A literal devastating blow. Cole retreats to a closet. His world in pieces. The bad guys banging on the door. He sees a hatch with a light and goes through… and there is Alexei, their Russian tour guide/double crosser. Standing, smiling. 

Cole doesn’t hesitate, he, like an animal, attacks Alexei. He doesn’t hear what the man has to say, he doesn’t hear that his friends are alive, all he hears is his own heart beat pounding in his ears as he beats this man to death for what he has done. And then the lights come up and everyone comes out. Horrified. The look of horror from the movie poster isn’t from Erin scared in the water, it is from her realizing her boyfriend actually killed a man.

What a devastating movie, I mean, they put their friend in such a position that he thinks his only way to literally survive is to kill? Wack as fuck. I’m not sure what they thought he was going to do when presented with Alexei at the very end after watching each one of his friends “die.” Seriously, that was one messed up “social experiment” and these kids just didn’t even think about the consequences. Now the poor guy is scarred for life, not just because he killed a guy, but because he thinks he watched a bunch of people die and it was all just a “prank, bro.” That is beyond messed up, especially his girlfriend dying on him twice (drowning then gunshot). Wild film, sad twist, good twist, made up for killing off everyone.

I thought about this movie and its ending for a while after the movie was over, wondering if it could have gone differently and unfortunately whatever schemes I come up with don’t matter, the circumstances were that the main character, Cole, was led to killing a man in what we now know was cold blood. It was a very sad end to a pretty fucked up movie. The fact that I thought about it afterwards means it had an impact on me though so I have to give credit where it is due there.

[ctrlgrlblog]

𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐬.

Ice Spice tries to play this mysterious game with her persona, It's like playing tug-of-war with your personality in a way with people that want to know more about you but instead she's the only one yanking the rope. Ice spice became huge from TikTok with her drill inspired song "Munch", And you know how TikTok has the power to inspire the billboards and music charts. TikTok became notorious for making 5 seconds of a song sound good but the rest of the 3-4 minute song kinda bland. With her first song blowing up on TikTok she soon became the newest hot topic but not in music or bars but really for her sex appeal. With people blowing her song up and sharing it she started to take off from there and got to do a corny barbie girl drill remix with nicki minaj who rarely gives out collabs with female rappers and only did it with Ice Spice to eat off of the momentum and push that ice spice was getting in the industry. And of course Ice Spice being hispanic and mixed with a light complexion she got all the attention on her because all industries and most of the world is colorist and because she has a fat ass because that's what she had to offer really. She can't rap or sing but she can twerk and look hot.

Ice Spice is really just a TikTok rapper who got out of the Bronx luckily off of her looks and age. Watching her performances are just bland and dry as fuck because she doesn't do any moving around just her usual combo moves of bending over, twerking, touching her ass/boobs, and flicking her dry tongue. Ice Spice does not have any talent or real music that comes from the heart, She's just a cheap industry plant like Cardi B that the music industry have put infront of us to distract us. Her and Cardi B both believe that they were hand plucked from the Bronx and chosen to represent their city out of the masses but really they aren't doing enough for the city they came from. They're really just stealing their originality and personality and raunchy-ness from the Bronx. You would've thought that Ice Spice would've done a song with Cardi B, but instead she did it with Nicki Minaj and the song was just kinda trash because it sounded so rushed and there were no memorable bars or anything that showed that she had some talent.

When Apple Music asked her to describe her music she vaguely described it as a vibe. I couldn't vibe to her song even if it was being played in Walgreens. She then went on to say

"It's for the Baddies that get it, for the confident people, for the people that get money. It's just music to feel good too, to get ready to, to work out to"

I can see the workout aspect of her music but not really the other bs she must've said high on her confusion. Ice Spice went on to release her 6 track debut EP Like...? (Her favorite catchphrase in between bars that she says when because she can't rap and gets confused.) The way Ice Spice raps is equivalent to a 6th grader rapping, She did a really weird song with Taylor Swift called karma that really flopped. because without her regular producer giving her an impromptu drill beat to rap on she sounds kinda like a really big joke. Her and Taylor Swift's song was just really bad timing for them to have a song together, Especially after Matty Healy made a very racist and insensitive joke about her and her looks while he was fucking Taylor Swift and pretending to be a good posh buy when really he is a ciggarette smoking bum with nice hair.

Overall, Ice Spice is an industry plant. A cleaner and kidz bop version of Sexy Redd that kids sing in the car and their parents won't get mad because hey she doesn't rap about sucking dick & hasn't had a sex tape exposed yet so she's safe for now. Ice Spice hasn't released any real music, Just another girl trying to do drill rap and get money off of mediocre music is what the world and the black community see.

[penny-the-pissed-poltergeist]

Volume 2 episode 11 rewatch thoughts, I'd say RWDE/Critical content ahead but this episode is good enough it might not need a warning

.Ruby's unarmed fighting would be not nearly as bad if she kicked instead of punched, considering how fast she can go she could probably kick with the strength of a horse.

.I really like Roman's hookshot cane, I think it's the first time he's used it so they might have only thought of it by volume 2

.Who on team OWBY is making those explosions? I'd assume Yang or maybe Weiss?

."We're gonna stop that train" The Gang doesn't stop that train

."I think their on the-BONK"

."We've got baddies" So most women on this show... okay that one was very reddit I'm sorry

.The RWBY fandom wiki legit says that Oobleck call a train caboose a caboose is a RVB reference

.Before anyone says that the Dust Torchwick stole went into the bombs, I doubt that because we only see fire/combustion in the explosions and Roman stole WAY more kinds of dust then that, they would be exploding into all the colors of the rainbow.

.Yang winking right before she fucking kills a guy

.You can say a LOT about this show (What do think this blog is for?) but I can give the show credit for how constantly good the villains plans are most of the time, mostly because the bad guys just.. win sometimes

.The dog shot Oobleck does is the sickest thing ever, Zwei best dog

.Oobleck being a full hunter and taking down a mech that team RWBY had to team up to beat is a really good way to show how much room they have to grow

.Neo blocked a hit from her once and Yang already wants revenge

.Love how smug Neo is, she's so cocky and she can back it up, not getting hit ONCE by Yang

.The Lieutenant I'm calling Banesaw my guy, your just warring out your chainsaw's blades by doing that. Always liked the name Banesaw for him, it gives me pro wrestler vibes.

.Banesaw calling her "A Schnee" makes it sound like he's elated to finally kill a dr.seuss creature

.Roman I know you don't give a shit about the law but Blake's still a minor please stop

.Blake both using Dust better then Weiss has so far and pulling of an energy slash we've only seen seasoned Hunters do, Queen slay

.Common Weiss L, forgot she used Time dilation and again here so take what I said about it on the V/2 episode 4 post and throw it out the window

.They play that one piece of stock dramatic music (Or something that sounds a lot like it) when Weiss gets bodied and I think of anything else but the annoying orange when I hear it

.What is hush made out of, I get Neo's putting her Aura over it but still

.It took me until know to realize that you can still she Raven's normal eyes under her mask, in this shot at least

.Neo seeing Raven and just immediately noping out is really funny. imagine beating up some teenager and then the Queen of all bandits shows up, I'd crap myself too

.That dome Weiss made had an above zero chance of caving in on them and just fucking them over more

.This is one hell of a cliff-hanger and the next episode... doesn't really live up to it, I'll get to why tomorrow.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

5 Plot Twists I Want To See In Mysterious Lotus Casebook

1.) first and foremost, I really, really want Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing to become close. Not only would it complete the iron triangle little found family they’re all pretending not to be building, but it would be a great sign of growth in both characters. I don’t need them to be perfectly harmonious—tbh that would be too weird—but I feel like Feisheng is dancing around the edge of being reluctantly amused by and even fond of this impulsive kid who his ex old nemesis worries over so much, and Duobing seems to keep forgetting that Feisheng is The Worst until Feisheng does something that fits into his suspicions. The kid who grew up in an almost suffocatingly sheltered environment, totally unaware of his good fortune, and the kid who grew up in a literal hellscape that taught him all the worst things—I want them to find middle ground. Lianhua could finally catch a break for five minutes or they could bond over annoying him.

2.) I don’t want Duobing to fall in love with the princess and vice versa Right now it feels like they’re setting us up for those tropey shows where they meet and are soooo antagonistic but then they find love slowly through hijinks blahblahblah DULL bc neither of them wanted to marry each other and it feels like a cop-out to have that. I want the princess to get to have her own adventures! Maybe she can hang out with Qiao Wanmian and they can bond over dodging a bullet with fiancés.

3.) I’m of the opinion that something extremely shady is going on at Baichuan Academy AND Tianji Manor, and while it’s good to have an institution that goes between sects, BA needs serious reforms and changes. I want Qiao Wanmian to lead it. Zijin is welcome to fall in line or fuck off.

4.) This is potentially controversial, but I don’t think they should reform Sigu Sect at all. It’s so tied to the various biased memories of a small group, misinformed rumors and legends, a former leader who does not want to lead anymore and his protege who wants to be free, not tied down to leadership or admin. I propose that if anything, a totally new sect be formed—one that takes in the young hopefuls from Sigu, the abandoned Feisheng adherents (because I sincerely doubt they were all baddies, just manipulated), and others who haven’t found a place. This was the best of Xiangyi—his desire to help others and build a good place for them—and it could be a positive way to actually honor the legacy of LXY and co.

5.) I think a really good full circle with the mysterious “Master” behind it all could be either Shan Gudao (bc what the shit was going on 10 years ago???) or the evil guy from Di sect that hurt Feisheng as a child. I’m not totally clear on the Nanyin subplot, but I think there are more moles than we have been led to believe so far.

Feel free to sound off with the plot twists you want to see!!!

[arcplaysgames]

Anyway I will sum up: the current theory is that by taking people's Desires (the heart gem thing), Alice can control those people and it's probably bad, since when stuff happens to your Shadow it will effect your real self too.

Seems like Alice is trying to lure more people into her Jail so she can alter their cognition. Which given she kinda started as an influencer is so much I wanna die a bit.

also holy crap the textures in this game are sometimes Really Bad lmao. I wonder how P5R looks on the Switch, I might google that later out of curiosity.

Now it's time to investigate Alice herself and turns out Ann has admired her for a while and asked her agency if she could meet Alice, so she's got seats at a TV appearance.

thanks dad-- what the fuck, chaz is here. why does EVERYONE in japanese government hang at Sojiro's place?

Reverie has a full-body flashback to that time about a year and change ago when he sat in this same TV studio (but back when it wasn't made of Mario 64 textures) and shook hands with the love of his life and his star-crossed kismesis. For a moment, the entire dayglo set fades to a single color. Beige. jfc he was sooooo beige.

ANYWAY uh.

Alice tells the story about how she was extremely shy growing up and struggled to overcome it despite how much she wanted to. Then, she saw a beautiful dress in a shop window, and upon putting it on, she felt like a totally different person, like a ray of light had fallen right on her.

And HONESTLY this is the first moment that Ann's entire thing has made sense to me, how becoming a model could inspire people. I think there is more than a few issues with looking at an extremely thing, extremely carefully produced person and going "oh, this is aspirational" but at least the concept makes a little more sense now.

BUUUUUUUUT turns out Alice is not just a victim of her Jail like I proposed, she's a baddie.

Oh okay so she knows what's going on and is doing it on purpose, okay.

That's disappointing.

I'm sorry, Ann. It does suck. Her whole speech about wanting to inspire people like she was, yeah, it sounded like Ann, and Ann's disappointment is even stronger than mine.

I was kinda sad that Jails apparently work pretty similarly to Palaces but also things get SO FUCKING WILD HERE I'm kinda cool with it.

While Reverie is comforting Ann and thinking about it was in this very hallway where he met a beige boy he almost changed the universe to have a second chance with, Alice just SHOWS UP AND

oh my god

THIS GAME IS OFF IT'S FUCKING SHITS

a fucking pastel pink ultra-cosplayer keeps stepping on people, this game. oh my god. i'm crying its so good.

I think we can fix Alice without stealing her heart, all we gotta do is introduce her to the Domme lifestyle and teach her about scenes, boundaries, and consent. There is a historic top shortage going on and she could really find her niche.

this is clearly not a negotiated scene, so Ann and Reverie run in to break it up. take it to the kink dungeon, girly, this ain't the venue. SSC or RACK, pick one.

Alice actively tries to get Ann and Reverie under her mind control shit?????

OKAY SO she is like fully aware of the cognitive world? It feels like she's pretty in-tune with her Shadow. Which usually means the Shadow doesn't stay a separate being but becomes a persona instead.

Instead, with the Jail system, they seem to be keeping separate even as they both work towards the same goals. That's new and strange.

This is definitely setting up some core questions like who made EMMA, how did Alice figure out how it worked, has she been inside the cognitive world or did she just figure out if she friended ppl with EMMA she could control them, and what's going on with the shadow vs real self here?

Regardless, Alice is a delight. I for one am thrilled to have her, but I also fear that Persona 5 Strikers might peak with its first main villain here because where the fuck do you go after evil pastel princess dominatrix? I have no idea.

[gvtted-ratz]

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JACKAL

Jackal/Dean x Hacker!GN!Reader

Last Edited: 21/06/2024

TW: mocking, bleeding, drugging, kidnapping, corrupt cop, foul language, imprisonment, threats of bodily harm, illegal information gathering, open ending

Requested: No.

Word Count: 3,415

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: This took two weeks. It’s the pig’s time to shine. Not. Fuck this nasty bastard with his midlife crisis mohawk. Now, take it away, Penny. (/SpongeBob ref for Rppik.)

@rppik (editor/co-writer): this one goes out to my hyperfocusing baddies out there,

“I assume this is everything?” You can hear Blue and Red getting shifty at your words. They, as well as you, have been waiting for the introduction to end to start your biddings.

“That it is, yes! Would my esteemed customers like to let this lowly Auctioneer know what goods you wish to purchase?” 

Yes, that is the question, isn’t it? Who will you be bidding on to take with you?

》YOU HAVE SELECTED JACKAL 《

“ Blue window? Which do you wish to take with you? I’ll make sure to have it all written down!” The Auctioneer asks, motioning towards a metal door. Behind it, you’re sure there’s someone there to take notes of what items are purchased, they will be shipped to, as well as who wasn’t bought.

“Oh! I’ll do 250 for Mason and Machete each!” Blue’s window lights up. She sounds excited to go first with her purchases. Then again, she always complained when she didn’t get to go before everyone else; better she goes now than later.

“Very well. How about the red window? Whom will you be taking?” She asks, facial expression unable to be seen behind her bandage-like mask, though the way she talks with such joy only highlights how well she is at her job.

“120 on Jackal, 340 each for the Goffard boys,” Red says, window lighting up.

“What the fuck! Fuck you!” Derek says, Matt looking just as livid as his brother. The sweat that had been gathering on Dean’s forehead drips as his lips peel back in a sneer. Those that haven’t been chosen appear to be less tense, relieved to not be bought. On the other hand, both of the larger men that Blue has picked look ready to kill; their eyes looking this way and that, bodies tense like large predators ready to pounce. She’s known for enjoying men much larger than herself so she can “put them in their place” as she so puts it; Red always tends to mock her for her types, excluding the fact that they enjoy the bratty ones.

“Green window? Would you kindly tell this lowly Auctioneer your choice?”

“220 on the corrupt cop,” you announce. Dean looks towards your window, swallowing heavily. It looks like he knows he’s screwed if he goes with you. Yet, there isn’t a thing he can do about it.

“What? C’mon, Green. What’s the Old Man got that you’d want? I’m sure he’s twice your age. 230,” Red tries to barter.

“You’re taking two of the wealthiest men already. Corrupted or not, pigs tend to have information I can use. 320,” you refuse to back down. There’s a reason you tend to only take one, as you can spend the set limit if need be.

“Fine. I’ll take the beastkin for 120 then. Keep the fucking pig, Green.” Ren gives the red window a blank look, likely keeping his mouth shut in hopes of possibly being able to find a way out of the mess he’s gotten himself into. On the other hand, Blue cackles at Red’s defeat, always enjoying the show any sort of bickering brings. Your warped hum in agreement has The Auctioneer clasping her hands together, mic being jostled slightly.

“Then this concludes the bidding! I’ll have the purchases shipped–”

“Shipped?!” Dean cuts her off, but she keeps talking, ignoring the outburst.

“–to you as soon as possible! And those who were not bought will be released, as my lovely regulars have asked!” Some sort of gas starts to fill the room the prizes are in, causing many to start tugging at their bounds, yelling at each other or the windows. The only ones unaffected are you, your fellow buyers, as well as The Auctioneer, as the products start to sway, collapsing in heaps on the metal floor below. Just as quickly as the gas had started, it clears at once.

A crew comes in, dressed similarly to The Auctioneer, to start carrying, dragging, or wheeling away both purchased and unsold. Those who were not acquired are carted off to be dumped somewhere in their respective towns, unlike the procured. They will be drugged up so it’s easier to move to their designated places via buyers’ chosen locations. You watch with muted glee as your choice is put in a wheelchair, having the IV drip attached to his arm, now ready to be shipped to your given drop-off destination. He’ll be dropped off at your little hide-out, awaiting your return, whether he knows it or not.

“With all this now settled, you will wire the payments, yes?” The Auctioneer asks, the customer-service tone of voice still present. You bring out a burner phone, clicking through it to gain access to an account you set up a month prior to this show. If anyone were to get through your firewalls and protections, they’d only track it to some poor sap’s laptop off the coast of the US. It wouldn’t be your fault if said sap happens to have a few megabytes of illegal images saved onto that computer’s hard drive, either, busting the entire operation they have going on.

“I’ve sent the amount agreed upon. It should arrive shortly,” your words hold true, as some device beyond the metal door The Auctioneer is standing beside lets out a ding . Hearing it, she glances over the door before nodding.

“Thank you, Green. May your purchase bear lovely fruit for your taking!” You leave the boxed room, not bothering to listen to the other buyers in case they have any issues; such instances usually end up in heated arguments or death of said buyer, and you're not particularly interested either way. The door closes, another person dressed business-casual stepping in front of you to lead you out of the auction house. The only sounds available are your footsteps echoing, paired with the guide’s loud breathing, muffled poorly by the gauzy wrappings around their head. 

Arriving at a dark-wooden door, the guide opens it, stepping aside to allow you to walk through. You don’t slow your pace, heading down some brick steps to follow a worn gravel path towards your vehicle. Your keys are handed to you by another member of staff, dressed just like the others before them, allowing you to enter and start up the rental with ease. You don’t look back as you drive off, heading towards your work location. By the time you arrive, you’re sure he’ll be there, still hooked to the drip.

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

Pulling into the gloomy drop-off location, you spot an ambulance parked at the warehouse. You position your own vehicle near it, turning off the ignition before stepping out. Another one of the auction house’s people steps out to open the van’s back doors. They step away, allowing you to confirm that this is your item. You give a jerk of your head, confirming that the man strapped down on the gurney is your purchase. With your affirmation, they start to undo his bindings, removing the IV in the process. With the obstruction gone, a member of the crew picks him up like a sack of grains. You lead them into the dilapidated warehouse, knowing they’ll follow without hesitation,  having orders to please, alongside heed, high-ranking buyers.

The lot of you walk past chunks of concrete, piles of metal, a metal beam, clumps of dirt, and countless weeds that have made their way into the place. Entering a back room, you gesture towards a chair seated close to the middle of the area, nearly hidden away in the dark place; had the door not been open, the chair would have been completely obscured by shadows. It’s the only area that’s remotely salvageable out of the entire place, with the roof still held up, all walls in place, and a functioning door to lock when you want. As the lackey none-too-gently jostles Dean into the chair, you stride over to a desk housing a multitude of monitors. Clicking on your mouse, the monitors light up, casting a glow into the mostly dark room as your C.P.U’s fans start up from underneath the desk. The motorcycle helmet has a tinted lens, keeping the bright lights from harming your eyes; of course, protecting your vision was an added bonus of keeping your face and voice hidden from others, it being the main purpose of the costly helmet.

Turning your back to your setup, you look over at your newly acquired purchase slumped in the uncomfortable office chair; the wheels had been removed so anyone in it wouldn’t roll themselves around looking for escape options. You give the worker standing beside your unconscious prize a dismissive wave, their job now complete. They leave without a word nor hesitation to escape your place of employment, shutting the door behind them. You can admit, they had manners many before them hadn’t; The Auctioneer must have taken your words to heart and retrained or weeded out the unfit employees who had been rude. In the past, you had encountered some who believed they had the right to tell you how to treat your belongings like they knew what they needed more than you, the owner, did.

You stare down at the once egotistical man, waiting until you hear the van’s engine start; the gravel crunching under its wheels as it drives off, probably to head back to the auction house. You then turn your back towards the sleeping figure, deciding to rummage around in one of the drawers in your desk. Additionally, you move a few boxes of snacks to find a bundle of zip ties kept together with a rubber-band. With these in hand, you go back to Dean. The drugs in his system keep him under, completely malleable if you wanted to do anything you desired. Thankfully, you’re not like him when it comes to his tastes, if The Auctioneer's words were anything to go by; you're sure he would readily take advantage if he were in your shoes, happy to get his rocks off anyway he deemed fit.

You slip the plastic bonds over his wrists and onto the office chair arms, using more than 3 on each one; his ankles are bound together before being fastened to the gas lift under the seat. By now, you’re almost completely out of the restraints, making a mental note to buy more. Having Jackal completely secured, you’re able to get back to your job. Throwing the last few ties into the drawer, you kick it shut and plop down into the only other office chair in the building. The monitors’ lights greet you, your previous tabs still covering the screens.

Your keycaps clacking, alongside your mouse clicking, are the only sounds in the room. Time passes by relatively quickly while you work, hyper-focused on your job as code, images, intel, and correspondence between other informants sinks its claws into your attention.

That is, until you hear a low groan emerging from your captive. Keeping your gaze trained to the current sequence of coding you’re looking over, you decide to finish the task at hand before paying him any mind, making sure to glance at another monitor that houses photos of people; their private information is summarized in bullet points next to their respective pictures, knowing it won’t take much longer for this particular assignment to be finished.

The office chair housing your new, shiny, and reluctant informant creaks as he tries to yank his hands out of the plastic ties. You don’t let that distract you, dragging an image from a monitor you weren’t typing on to the one you’re currently using; it sticks itself to the document you’ve placed it over, the information beside it matching the file you’ve constructed for this individual.

“Hey,” his gruff voice croaks out. He’s been asleep for hours, making it sound more gravelly than usual. Perhaps he’s finally noticed his current situation. It’s too bad you’re not interested at the moment. 

“Hey!” You ignore his call, saving your progress on your current project. You can feel him seething at your lack of attention from how heavy his stare is, the creaking of the office chair echoing as he tugs and throws himself around. It isn’t long before you hear a growl that turns into a hiss as the chair tips from all of his struggling. The sound of his body smacking into the concrete below brings a small amount of satisfaction; you can hear a wheeze escape his lungs. With this, you finally decide to bless him with the oh-so-sought-after diligence he wanted from you.

“Having trouble, Old Man ?” The question sounds warbled from your helmet, but the mocking tone is so pronounced that not even your face covering can keep it monotone. The chair you sit in creaks as you swing it to face him. His crumpled form on the ground greets you, as does his curled lips in what would be a snarl, if he didn’t look so pathetic, that is. “For such a cocky pig , you sure do look like a wet mutt. ”

“Fuck you! When I get out of this, I’ll make sure you wish you were dead!” You click your tongue in annoyance, turning your chair away from him to continue your task. He can stay down there if he won’t be polite; let a worm like him wiggle in the dirt.

Your clacking sounds up again as you get back to work, tuning out more of his threats, growls, and hissing. To you, they sound like a cranky old pig squealing about all the wrongs it's suffered before getting slaughtered. Time passes by faster than you think, forcing all your attention to creating files upon files of information on people many of your clients have requested; good, bad, neutral, it matters not. This is your job, after all.

When you feel your back tighten from sitting in the same position for too long, you lean back, twitching at the quick shot of pain you feel. You turn your chair, looking over at the still collapsed man. He’s frowning, staring at you from the ground; Dean had stopped making sounds after realizing that you weren’t listening nor paying attention. With your now diligent eyes back on him, however, he curls his lips back like a mutt does when snarling.

“You need somethin’, Old Man?” The mocking tone you use seems to make his snarl deepen. “Well, I need something from you.”

“Fuck you! I’ll crush your fingers to fuckin’ dust with my boot heel if you so much as touch me with ‘em!” You raise your brow, knowing he can’t see it through the helmet.

“As if I’d be a captive fondler like you, Old Man. I need your brain for this,” your honesty only serves to make him hate you more; the way his eyes seem to glaze over with utter disgust and rage tells you so.

“And why would I help you?”

“Because you’re in no position to refuse. Unless… You want me to start taking your fingernails off one by one. I don’t have any issues either way,” your distorted voice says, not even bothered by the threat you’ve just promised him. You can see the gears turning in his head as he purses his lips in reluctant thought. To give in is to admit defeat, or that’s what you assume he believes; he has to give in one way or another due to the fact that one route promises a very bloody and painful outcome.

“Fine,” he begrudgingly agrees to you picking his brain on something.

“Good. Tell me how you get your victims through your swine work.”

“My what work?” Jackal looks completely lost on your command; it makes you sigh in annoyance. You even turn your chair away from him again to start typing.

“Your swine work, Hog . Pig . You’re a cop, Dumbass. Tell me how you nab your victims through it, Old Man,” you talk slowly, adopting the tone one would with a child.

“Stop fuckin’ callin’ me Old Man !” He snaps; you’re unsure if it was your tone that pushed him over or the name. That doesn’t mean you’ll stop, though.

“I’ll call you whatever I please, Old Man ,” you pause, looking back towards him over your shoulder. “ Now answer the question. ” The voice changer seems to glitch, causing it to warp and warble; it sounds much deeper than how it did in the previous line of conversation.

“ Fine . I punch out when it’s time to, change my clothes, and fuckin’ find someone I think looks like they’d put up a fight. That enough for you?”

“ No. Keep up your little cute act and you won’t have fingernails soon. ”

“Fuckin’ bossy. Fine . I go for the feisty ones, unless I’m in the mood for someone I can overpower easily. I follow ‘em around for a bit, see if they got what I want, and then try to drive ‘em into a corner where I can do whatever I please. Sometimes I just need to get off, and others I really just wanted to gut ‘em. I like doing both, though. Seein’ ‘em die with that fear in their eyes… It’s a huge fuckin’ turn on,” during his entire schpiel, your typing hasn’t stopped. In fact, it appears to have gone faster as he spouts away.

“Are there any specifics for who you target? Or did you just happen to find them…?” You trail off, trying to pick apart the brain hiding beneath his midlife crisis mohawk.

“I usually just saw ‘em by chance and went from there. I wanted innocents. Couldn’t give a shit about guilty folks.” You hum in acknowledgement, your typing slowing down only to be replaced by mouse clicks as he continues, “Why? Or are you just gonna say it’s not my business?” His snarkiness is laced into his question, nearly making you want to say exactly that– it’s none of his business.

“It doesn’t concern you. You’re just another means to an end, Dean .” The inhale from him seems to echo in your eardrums, knowing you’ve simply upset him once again. Then again, how can you not? He’s just another squealing pig, albeit an even more crude one than you're used to running into; he’s just another pawn you’ve bought for your entertainment.

The clacks from the keys signal the end of your chat. You’re now focusing on your assignment again, not caring about the man laying prone on the ground. Engrossed with the task on hand, you don’t hear your captive rubbing against his bindings, forcing the skin to break and bleed; it doesn't register in your mind when he starts to slip his wrists out from the ties so he can try his luck at his ankles. As far as you're concerned, the only thing worth your consideration is the annoying endeavours you’ve been hired to complete.

What does get you to stop your production is the leather-covered arm wrapping around your throat from behind. There may be no blade, but the arm is tight, unrelenting in this choke hold you’ve been placed in. His other arm is securely gripping his own form, making sure that you won’t be able to break free of this situation.

“Spent too long on your work, Green ,” Dean sneers from behind you. If you didn’t have your helmet on, you would have felt his breath, reeking of cigarettes from the few he smoked before his kidnapping.

“I’ll admit. I underestimated the piggy,” you say, feeling the arm constrict like a snake squeezing its prey. You choke out a wheezy laugh, hands laying still on your keyboard; you make no move to pry the arm off, knowing he’ll only go through with choking you out if you escalate the struggle further.

“Hook, line, sinker . You didn’ even notice when I started to use the ties to cut into my wrists. Everyone knows blood is just another kind of lube,” he retorts. “And now, I’m goin’ to make sure you feel just as humiliated as you made me feel. Let’s hope you don’ bleed out too quick. ” Those words are all you hear before the arm squeezes more, cutting off all your airflow. Your hands fly off your keyboard to claw, tear, and yank at the jacket’s sleeve, unable to grab any skin. You’re at a disadvantage, knowing only when it’s too late to save yourself.

Maybe you should have chosen a different person to bid on.

》 START OVER? 《

[thelovingroses]

Instagram baddies, internet insecurities.

Source: Google images.

In today's world where you can access everything so easily with just tapping those screens. Like interactions with strangers from local or worldwide is a common thing now, I mean look at us all people who mostly found our soulmates or friends from an apps. I don't say it's bad, its not bad at all tho I've met some great people through internet and they're the same as my own real life family. People have preferences from where they should meet whether it's on real world or virtual. The facts that some people might use it in a bad way such as for cheating behind their real life partner or stuff admitting they're Single so they can get along and fool another chicks or dudes just for sex and you can't keep yo dick to yourself. That's the real problems of why this shits are seriously toxic.

I know some of you well all of you I can say, always check and stalk on your boyfriends/girlfriends accounts to see what they're up to. Sounds like creeps but what sad about dating life nowadays is there's no more trust and this kind of behaviors consider as normal as long as your partner's didn't know about it. Sick for sure.

Source: Google images.

There's some girls who always stalk me and think I will stole their boyfriends I mean bitch, I don't even wants my exes so why I want your boyfriends? Not sound too materialistic or being gold digger but I care about money more than a boy just for fuck and leave I can get that easily trust me. My money never hurts but yo man will leave either die or cheating on you stop being a simp.

Source: Google images.

Stop this shit, I know I really know how it feels when your boys follow another girls especially those whose half naked showing their booty and shits. But believe me you better than those girls, don't you see ever behind the scenes? The struggles of them to get that damn hot poses and how they do that for money yep money. Don't worry if your boyfriends poor those girls will never think your boyfriends exist in this world. It's all about money and attentions. Why they show their body? To earn that damn money cuz it's their job. Let's say selling your body without touching just stare and for likes. A brands will endorse them and they will earn money correct again it's all about money. Nobody wants to show their body for free. Even they need to do proper billions surgeries just to look perfect. From money to money.

I mean don't worry about this celebrities but worry when yo man follow some girls in their area and said it's only a friends believe me you better start run lol. Nah seriously you better take a look on it, instagram baddies doesn't want them but probably those average and desperate chick for sure wants them. But also don't just blame one side person, cheating is the agreement of both person. So blame your boyfriend too instead of attacking another female who doesn't know anything if she knows it's different case and for sure she's crazy bitch who likes leftover. You are stupid if you fight over 1 unfaithful men when you can get better man out there, girl there's plenty of fish on the sea. If your fish dead, find another whale. Stop stalking you better know nothing, the less you know something it will never hurt you. Whatever he did behind you it's none of your business but it's him. He have seriously insecurities who wants to get validate by a lot chicks, unfortunately. loyal men is secure and happy with just 1 person applies to female too. Loyalty is expensive only the classy ones own that. Point to be noted.

[teddybeartoji]

HI ARI MY SWEETHEART!! IT'S TIME TO FIGURE OUT WHO'S MORE OF A SAP - SUGU OR MICKEY (this is a hopeless competition we are both fucking losing)

the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

off to a great start IMAGINE HOW COMFY HIS FUCKING CLOTHES WOULD BEEEEEEE ARIII i would literally exclusively wear his clothes idc about my own anymore

stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture. THIS SOUNDS AWFUL WHY WOULD U DO THIS SMHHHH

him asking u twice:(((((( he's already being a sap:(((

I LOVE HOW YOU DESCRIBE EVERYTHING IT ALL JUST SOUNDS SO DAYDREAMY LIKE I WANNA LIVE THERE I WANNA LIVE IN YOUR ART ARI

WOLFY SUGU HAS TURNED INTO A SLEEPY PUPPY AAAAAAAAAA

shoko being a good drunk. canon. she's a baddie like that. and gojo being a sickening lightweight. also canon. (i am a terrible lightweight too lmaooo it's very funny)

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.) ..... and what if that's true hmmmmmm what thennnn

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐HAHAHAHHA SHOKO MY FAVOURITE GF she's so funny i love her

your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning. the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs i'm crying BAWLING ON THE FLOOR THE SOUND THE MAKES WHEN HE STRETCHES IT'S SO DOMESTIC IT'S SO CUTE THEY'RE MEANT TO BE

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up. i'm giggling and blushing hello hehehehhe

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.” AJSHKAWUDHAHDUAHDKGASGDJ CAR CRASH SOUNDS BOOM POW ANOTHER CRASHHH AMBULANCE SIRENS POLICE HEART MONITOR GOING EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I'M DEADDDDDDD SUGU SAYING BABY SUGU SAYING SWEETHEART SUGU SAYING MY ANGELL ARI ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE I'M OLD MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS SHIT ANYMORE U CAN'T JUST DO THAT TO ME

and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. i just smelled that i think i'm officially losing it (this is your fault)(i love you)

omfg cooing at suguru. oh how the turn tables. i wanna poke his cheek, boop his nose and tease him for being a cute little guy i love him your honor. also running a hand over his back is such a small thing but i adore it so much. it's all about the small things isn't it

satoru calling sugu "big guy" hehehehheh (also canon)

so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭best friend!satoru my beloved he's just the sweetest little shit ever:((((

”thanks, satoru,, you're my best friend” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA mickey has been sent to a fucking mental asylum they lost their mind thank you tumblr user twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for finally being able to do that we've been trying for a while

satoru trying to hide his little feeling just like shoko they're a bunch of losers fr (I LOVE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH)

your repressed, beloved little losers. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 LOSER HIVEMIND WTFF

AWW AND THE READER TEASING SATORU TOO HEHEHEHEHEH I KNOW THAT'S RIGHT

so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing. + "i love you" HE'S SOOOOOOOO MMMMMM THE BEST MAN ALIVE HE DESERVES EVERYTHING HE DESERVES THE SUN THE MOON THE STARS ALL OF THE LOVE IN THE WORLD

it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now. yeah imagine my 5'3 ass trying to carry him home 😐😐 I WOULD DO IT NEVERTHELESS NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT

hello ribcage mention

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn I'M SO SERIOUS YOU'RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME LOSE IT BC I DEFINITELY JUST HEARD THAT

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.” :((((((((((((((((((((

ari again i just ahhhhhh i love how you write so so so fucking much "towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee" you are my inspiration i adore you so much your art is the literature i'll be studying in my free time nothing else is needed

”— and i have you.” ALERT ALERT THERE HAS BEEN YET ANOTHER CAR CRASH WE ARE IN DIRE NEED OF ANOTHER AMBULANCE SOS SEND HELP WEEEOWEOOO STATIC NOISES

LOVESICK!SUGU LOVESICK!SUGU SAVE ME him looking at you like he can't belive you're real:((((((((((((((((( my sweet sweet baby

”my angel.”  yeah no i think i'd actually drop dead right then and there bc how the fuck is one supposed to survive suguru geto calling them "his angel" WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWW ari i love him

you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace. IT JUST KEEPS GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AND BY WORSE I MEAN MAGNIFICENT EXCELLENT AMAZING HE'S OUR HUSBAND FR

(you’re so, so pretty.) (ari you are my favourite angel in this world)

SUGU BOOPING YOUR NOSE AND GIGGLING like i'm genuinely getting flustered at this help me please

oops i realized i'm only like half way through but i've been writing down like every thought i get.... this is your own doing okay

the reader being annoyed bc they wanted to get a good one-liner in lmaooo i love them it's very relatable

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

🤭🤭 🤭🤭🤭UH- OHHHHHH

"but i wanna kiss you..." ANOTHER KIND OF UH-OHHH A SAD ONE ARI WHY IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DENYING HIM OF A KISSY KISS KISS HE'S SUCH A GOOD BOY HE DESERVES A KISS WHENEVER HE WANTS ONE:(((((

with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. whoever gets to marry you one day (idk how u feel about that but this is about the point) is gonna have a meltdown at the altar when u read them your vows i just know it (future mickey here um hello marriage hivemind bc what how did that even happen i didn't know marriage was gonna be a topic when i wrote this??????)(extra future mickey here. yes i am in fact stupid u literally said he wants to marry u in the description... I'M SORRY I DIDN'T READ THAT I JUST JUMPED RIGHT IN I WAS SO EXCITED IT MAKES ME LOOK STUPID)

he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH he's truly the sappiest of the sappiest he's such a soft little wolfy

”jus’ love you so much…” get urself a bf who is unable to go to sleep bc he loves you too much

every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. LIKEEEEE oh my fucking god this fucking fic will be the death of me ari you and your sugu is a match made in i don't even know where heaven and hell at the same time

the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right. ... i'm currently on my way over to your house don't ask how i know where u live i just do i need to give you these flowers and this little box that happens to have a ring in it yeah no don't worry about it just open the door sweetheart I LOVE YOUR FUCKING WRITING ARI CAN YOU HEAR MEEE LIKE HE WAS FORMED IN THE SHAPE OF SOMEONE MEANT TO HOLD YOU AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. YAYYY SUGU I LOVE SUGU SUGU NATIONN

"HE'S SIMPLY YOUR SUGU" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"HIS HEART IS YOURS" OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE ARIYOULITTLESHIT WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT MY POOR LITTLE HEART

ARE YOUFUKING KIDDING HE'S CRYING NOW TOO WHAT THE FUCK

AND YOU'RE WEARING HIS SHIRT AND HE'S CRYING AND NOW I'M CRYING I'M GONNA DM U PICS OF ME BAWLING MY EYES OUT

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.” AAAAAAAAAAAAA HE'S JUST SO SO SO SWEET AND LOVING MY FAVOURITE HONEY BOY

ribcage mention 2 yay

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love. ohhhhhh:((((((((((

"GONNA MARRY YOU ONE DAY"?????????

it is so good to see you all here at the funeral of the overly sensitive mickey. enjoy the food and the music GONNA MARRY YOU ONE DAY? MARRY? ONE DAY? MARRY YOU ONE DAY????

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. + such a large step to take. (but suguru says it with such tenderness.) he has been thinking about it a lot hasn't he.... dreaming even... he can't wait to do it... he wants to buy a house for you... plant a garden full of flowers for you.... he wants you to wear the ring everyday.... wants you to take him everywhere you go..... yeah.....

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

i don't have any new words bc u just keep fucking taking them from me ari 😡😡😡your art is just sooooo heartwarming and beautiful wahhh i hope you're having a lovely lovely day

but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. taking care of your beloved:((((((((((((((((((((((((( another simple thing but i just:((((((( the desire to make them breakfast to make them coffee:((((((( to make sure they're happy and well fed and well slept and and and :(((((((((((((

he’s delicate like that. :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((softie

HUHHHHHHHHH GULP BIG GULP H- HIS MORNING VOICE ANOTHER GULP I DON'T HAVE AN ADAM'S APPLE BUT IT'S METAPHORICALLY BOBBING RN OKAY WHOOOOWEEE

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all. BIG FAT DREAMY SIGHHHHH

him worrying about making u uncomfortable:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. uhhh he 10000000% loves the attention he's just fucking terrified to show it he's silly like that

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HEHEHEHHE HIM BEING EMBARRASSED BC HE TOLD HIS BEST FRIEND HE LOVES THEM WHAT A LOSER

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right? so mean. and here i thought you loved me!) EEEEEE HEHEHEHHEHEH THEY'RE SO STUPIDDD THEY OWN MY HEART

MY EVERYTHING MY ENTIRE WOOOOOOORLD does he know that i actually have two little boxes with two little rings in them?? hm i wonder what they're for... ari n sugu i know you're in there you can really let me in now

his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. LOVE CAN'T BE TOO DEEP

he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you.

WHA WHATKISS KISSY KISS NOW PLEASE KISS PLEASE NOW

HEY HEY HEY YOUNG MAN WHAT HAPPENED TO NOT REMEMBERING??????? MR GETO YOU OUGHTA GET PUNISHED FOR LYING SMHHHH

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly promised. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. kissing my screen rn wait what

he’s your dork, though. cough cough OUR dork

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything. crying the fattest fucking tears my shirt is soaked my eyes hurt BECAUSE YOU MADE THEM FOR HIMMMMM YOU MADE THEM FOR HIM

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either. I JUST GOT GOOSEBUMPS I'M SERIOUS EEEEEE HEHEHEHEHEHE HE'S GONNA MARRY UUUU HE'S GONNA ASK U TO BE HIS FOREVER AND EVER HEHEHEHHE

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

sugu and his forever is nothing compared to mickey and ari's art forever okay. ARI MY SWEETEST SWEET THIS FELT LIKE A BIG WARM HUG THE KIND WHERE YOU HIDE YOUR FACE IN THE CROOK OF THEIR NECK THE KIND WHERE THEY KISS YOUR TEMPLE THE LOVING KID THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU YOU ARE A BLESSING TO THIS WORLD AND I AM SO HAPPY THAT I GET TO READ YOUR WORK I GENUINELY HOPE YOU NEVER STOP

i dream, now, of a normal life with you ; suguru geto

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly promised. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. and sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[waluigis-837th-testicle]

more fluffy nyo rusame thoughts since yall liked the last one so much

Anya mandating when they watch movies. makes alfred sit down to watch cheesy new year and Christmas movies with her.

"All they're doing is yelling."

"yes! it is russian rom-com!"

also makes him change clothes before they go to the ethnic grocery store because she will not be embarrassed in front of the checkout girl no way no how alfred put on this calvin klein outfit you dress like old man on golf course.

Anya has a million petnames for Alfred. Fedka. Fedya. Milyi (sweetie). Daragoi (dearest).

if, for some reason, alfred has Fucked Up he does the only reasonable thing and hands over his MasterCard. she proceeds to drain his bank account at the Gucci store and treats her sisters to lunch.

Alfred knows how to braid hair and helps Anya braid her hair into high-fantasy princess styles.

"you look like a game of thrones character!!"

"i want to be the dragon girl."

"oh you're definitely the dragon girl"

they!!! talk!!! about!!! space!!!! a LOT!!!!

honestly them stargazing someplace in Montana on a road trip sounds....so fucking good. G O D

alfred is still mourning pluto. anya thinks he's silly. alfred mourns harder

they both have huge sweet tooths.

they would share a dessert with two spoons but let's face it, they're both too greedy for that shit.

i feel like they're both gamers. they visit each other's minecraft farms and animal crossing villages :')

me n the wife cuddlin in the gamer chair

one time alfred made anya hot cocoa when she was on her period and she cried :')

she's not used to people being nice to her like that

"is that :'( whipped cream?"

"yeah, do you not like it? jeez, i didn't mean to make you cry i can make another batch if you want"

"no :') it's perfect"

anya is taller than alfred i do not make the rules

how comically large the size difference is between them depends on you

she still steals his clothes :3 her favorite is this red flannel with a detachable hood that smells like him

and yes. she's sent him nudes with her wearing it

alfred gases her up when she's about to go out. whether it's for a business trip or a girl's night, he wants her to know that she looks like a baddy and he's proud of her

more often than not he's her photographer for nights when she wants to post selfies

once when Alfred is having a bad day, Anya constructed a pillowfort and they binge-watched the Star Wars prequels and cuddled in it. Alfred got to have his hair played with (WITH acrylic nails) while lying on the softest boobs this side of the prime meridian. to say he was in paradise was a gross understatement

in the same vein, they're both HUGE fans of any and all kinds of sci-fi. Star Wars, Isaac Asimov's writings, Battlestar Galactica, Planet of Storms, Solaris, ANYTHNG by Ursula K. Le Guin, etc.

honestly?? they just really love and respect each other. girlboss x malewife but they're both autistic nerds who love the sky and Hershey's chocolate. we stan

[toastybugguy]

Dude tell us ab the LR Descendants AU that sounds so fun I would like to hear the infodump

DUDE. Dude.

okay so this is a jumbled mess bc honestly this just started as an excuse to make silly little animatics in my head to my silly little songs LOLZ. BUT. I’m an idea man at heart. So here’s just a bunch of loosely connected ideas (that you can probably poke a ton of holes in). Just do what I did and take whatever you like and RUN W IT

- The VKs are Marcus and Skylar because Marcus is obvi and Skylar being evil was fun…. and also!! I think they should b friends!!!!

- Was pondering making Oliver and Bree the other VKs to fill out the cast and so I can unite my power couples and let them all be evil together. There is no real conclusion 2 this pondering bc I couldn’t decide which version I liked more AUWGh

- All the big baddies are on the Isle, so Douglas, Krane, Mr. Terror, Annihilator, Giselle, etc etc you get the gist

- Donald snuck the rats off the Isle where Douglas had created them before it descended into chaos and was closed off, and they now go to Auradon Prep where they continue to pretend to be average students

- People in Auradon know about bionics, but only the context of the Isle, so the general association is bionics = bad

- Leo takes the place of Ben, he helps keep their secret under wraps and coaches them on how to blend in

- Davenport constantly prepares them for the worst case scenario, telling them they have to keep their secret at all costs

- Bree tries her hardest to pretend she IS a normal student, hoping one day she’ll just forget that she isn’t. She never asked for this in the first place. She hates that she has to feel different at all.

- Adam doesn’t understand why it has to be a secret. He’s pretty sure if they told the truth and explained it to people, they could help others see that they’re not so bad. Chase is always telling him it’s “not that simple.”

- Because Chase is high strung. Really, truly, high strung. He doesn’t want to know what would happen to him or his family if everyone found out they’re like the people on the Isle. He doesn’t want to mess up whatever’s going on with Kaz by revealing he’s a freak and has been lying this whole time. He also doesn’t know when he also started resenting the “different” part of himself.

- Kaz and Oliver are their friends and have seen them doing weird unexplainable things before, but Leo lies and says it’s because they actually have superpowers

- Great, another thing to lie about!

- At least we get that Leo + Kaz + Oliver friendship that we all needed

- Attempts to integrate and rehabilitate the Isle and Auradon begin with bringing in VKs to Auradon Prep

- Idk what the balance between the Descendants universe and the LRMMEF universe is here so the wand is either the same or it’s the Arcturion or some weird mix of both. Anyway it’s The Plot Thing.

- Rats have REALLY got to hide their secret now bc tensions are high and they don’t want to be associated w the VKs

- Oliver and Kaz are truthfully on the fence about the ordeal because they used to know Skylar before things went bad. They want to believe she’s not beyond help but they also know the things she’s done since the Isle was closed off, and they aren’t sure just how far gone she is.

- Conflict is v family centric w other interpersonal conflicts mixed in

- The rats have to choose between risking the safety of Auradon or risking being potentially hated and ostracized by their friends and peers in their attempts to appeal to Marcus and Skylar

there’s??? too much and yet too little to say abt this bc again. Really Great Idea Man, less good Execution Man. and still I’m not sure which version of the VKs I like more bc it would sort of make sense for Oliver to be a VK since his mother is on the Isle and I like the idea of Skylar meeting Bree and being like “hey. fuck all your inhibitions. everyone sucks so why not just go be evil.”

but THERE IT IS!!! PLS add on or build off this or tweak it or whatever you’d like!! It’s been bouncing around in my brain and I watched Descendants 2 last night so yes we r thinking. Also, I wrote most of this in my notes app at like 1am while sick as balls so this probably makes even less sense than expected. Just know this is how my brain looks on paper.

bonus stuff I’m tossing in (mostly just to talk about the soundtrack teehee):

- Pretty sure this whole thing started because I thought Did I Mention was so flamebrain coded. I’m still right about that btw.

- If Only is also very much Chase inner struggle moment

- One way that I get to still have the 4 VKs for Ways To Be Wicked is that I pull the same trick they did in Descendants 2 and the whole number is all a daydream in Marcus and Skylar’s heads. Camera pans out and they’re both just like “sigh… wish they were evil and gay for us… oh well, time to go make them worse.” This is me eating my cake and eating it too.

- I don’t know WHEN or HOW Chillin’ Like A Villain would ever be plot relevant but it made me think of Skylar and Marcus talking to Oliver (the crisis that would be for my poor boy. someone help his sappy ass). Anyways it’s just a good song listen to it RN.

- okay yes I know that technically it’s a song from Z-O-M-B-I-E-S but LET ME HAVE THIS bc if you skip like the first 20 seconds of context in Someday - Ballad… it’s very marliver 2 me. Imagine they get their shit more figured out off screen and just get to be cute n stuff except Marcus still has to lie about not being evil ouuGhuhhggggh. It would b funny.

- One Kiss is also self indulgent marliver with identical setup to Descendants 3 (despite the fact that that movie was…ahem. i mean it was definitely a movie) bc I LOVE that song and HELLO the inner conflict of wondering if true love’s kiss even applies to you because you’re an android and what if there’s no way to save him, what if you’re not even capable of loving him like you think you do?? (but then Oliver wakes up, and it’s the best answer he could’ve gotten <33)

- Good Is The New Bad from Wicked World doesn’t have anything to do with anything but I’m saying right here and now that it is TOO catchy

- also Evil (from Wicked World as well) has been on my Marcus Davenport playlist since the beginning. needed to be said

[teecupangel]

From @aramaura

Yes absolutely. Now I remember growing up reading the young Jedi knights series so it makes me happy to see you referencing Jacen. And if Jacen would be the one to stay with Desmond, I can totally see him using his affinity with animals to train the in universe equivalent of eagles.

Or if we want to tie in the whole Jedi thing a Little closer, he's able to have an affinity with the star birds. So now I'm just imagining Jacen talking to a starbird well he's walking down the hallway in the brotherhood HQ and yelling out for Uncle Desmond. And when Desmond turns to answer, all he sees is fiery red feathers. Desmond now has a immortal space Phoenix sitting on his shoulder.

Jaina would be the one interested in technology, and Ben was the one who was dealing with ancient civilizations if I remember the JJK series right. So I could see Desmond asking them about Isu technology... Either out of curiosity or a last ditch hope that they can figure out how to reach earth.

Yeeesss. Let’s give Desmond a space Phoenix just to hammer in both the sun symbolism and his ‘resurrection’.

God, it’s been so long since I read the JJK series but that sounds about right XD

Jaina would also pop in and out and she’s on their ‘speed dial’ for anything connected to mechanics. She’s like their getaway driver as well after Desmond and Jacen fucked shit up so badly for the baddies they need exfil quickly.

Hell, Desmond’s stories of Earth could be one of the primary reasons why Ben got so interested in ancient civilization.

Speaking of Ben, he and Jacen have a sorta rivalry going on because, while Jacen is the one who followed his uncle’s path to be an Assassin, Ben is the one who takes the warning of the Creed to heart. Ben questioned everything, even the Force, and he questioned the Creed as well which made Desmond proud. Seriously, Ben could be an Assassin if he wanted to but he’ll probably stay as a Jedi in this idea.

I've been dying to read Desmond's adventure in star wars, but all fics i found were not finished ; (

Could you give me some inspiration plzzzzz

You’ve probably already read this but just in case, esama’s Sailing the Stars is complete so if you want a Desmond-centric fic set during the Clone Wars, go check that out.

So I was thinking where I would punt Desmond into the Star Wars ‘verse and a part of me wants to punt him during KOTOR’s storyline just because that is my favorite Star Wars game (also, just imagine Desmond being mistaken as Darth Revan with amnesia???) but then I realized after checking AO3 that most seem to be set during the prequel trilogy + clone wars so… may I suggest…

Desmond getting punted into the Star Wars OG Trilogy timeline? XD

In this setup, Desmond could wake up on some random planet and he’s just trying to get back to Earth but no one seems to know where and what Earth is (unless we count non-canon but sssshhhh, let’s make it a mystery).

So Desmond does what he does best, he starts gathering information and keeping himself afloat by stealing from the rich.

Now, to ensure he gets sucked into the main plot, we can do the following:

Desmond gets in contact with Han Solo who suggests he joins the Millenium Falcon after Han realizes Desmond has a knack for seeing danger before it approaches and he suggests that Desmond would have a better chance of finding this ‘Earth’ planet of his if he joins them since they do travel everywhere.

Desmond has the habit of being a stowaway whenever he wanted to go off-planet and the Millenium Falcon was simply the next ship he boarded. Old Ben is the one who noticed him when he was just hiding and waiting for Han to finish his business in Tatooine because Desmond didn’t really feel like getting sand all over.

Desmond ends up owning the cantina where Han ends up shooting Greedo and he goes on the run because that incident caused the Imperial soldiers to snoop around the cantina and Desmond, technically, owned the cantina… sorta illegally… So he hitched a ride on the Millenium Falcon since he figured Han owed him… without anyone knowing he was even there until Old Ben saw him.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond has been assassinating the really bad ones on whichever planet he’s been on. That’s why he mainly hitches rides. On the other hand, if he was the owner of the cantina, he had taken over the cantina to have a ‘base of operation’ while gathering information he can use as part of his plan to assassinate Jabba the Hutt.

Desmond could totally be a Jedi if you want him to be but anyone who trains him will notice the darkness inside him. While he’s mostly chill, he’s an Assassin and that means he would be willing to use anything to finish his mission and survive. He won’t be tempted by the dark side though. It would be more like… he can control the dark side… but that makes him dangerous.

Desmond and Luke would have a more or less brother-like friendship. He could easily influence Luke to be less honorable though, especially if he stays with Luke during the whole ‘Yoda training’ part of his character arc.

On the other hand, Desmond and Han would have a more of ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ kind of business relationship that would thaw to a bash brothers type. He, Han, and Chewie share one brain cell and it bounces off each of them. If Desmond had joined them before the start of the trilogy’s story, Desmond would be their lookout and their ‘bodyguard’. He’s fine with all the smuggling as people do need to eat but… if a really bad person dies during one of their runs, well… Han will definitely say ‘no love lost’.

Desmond and Leia would start with snark-to-snark combat which would later turn to respect and trust. If Desmond stayed with Leia and Han’s side of the storyline instead of Luke’s, he’d be more of the shadow of the rebellion.

Desmond will definitely build a Brotherhood during the rebellion and they would be more into clandestine and guerilla tactics. He and Leia won’t always see eye to eye but Leia knows that Desmond’s plans would benefit the rebellion.

Desmond doesn’t see Leia as a princess. She’s a leader of the Rebellion first and foremost and Desmond definitely hides whenever the topic of making him and the Brotherhood officially part of the Rebellion comes up.

If Desmond learns about Darth Vadar’s true relationship with both Luke and Leia, he would have flashbacks of Haytham and, since he doesn’t know who Anakin Skywalker truly was, he would warn Luke that ‘Some people cannot be reasoned with nor can they be saved.’, hoping that Luke wouldn’t feel the same pain Ratonhnhaké:ton felt after killing Haytham.

He would still be glad to learn he had been wrong after Luke tells him how Anakin Skywalker saved him in the end and tell Luke that at least he had a ‘less shitty dad’ than Desmond.

Ben/Jacen would probably end up as an Assassin with Uncle Desmond instead of a Sith… just saying.

[storiesforallfandoms]

she’s a baddie ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1846

request?: yes!

“Hi! I have a request for mgk (if your requests are open still) but I was thinking maybe something like colson’s girlfriend is a total badass and like has a bunch of tattoos and maybe is a rapper herself and he is kind of just gushing over her and tells everyone he can about how cool she is? <3″

description: in which he loves to gush about his badass rapper girlfriend at every opportunity

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The minute he walked into the studio and saw her, Colson was in love.

Dom had asked Colson to be on a song with him and a long time friend of his, a fellow rapper named (Y/N). Colson agreed - he always loved to work with Dom and he loved to meet new people to collaborate with.

He wasn’t sure what he expected of (Y/N), but it definitely was not what he actually got.

(Y/N) was in the booth recording her verse. Already, her rapping abilities were for beyond even Colson’s. He was extremely impressed with her lyrics. As for her appearance: she was wearing a pair of tight, ripped jeans, a white button up dress shirt that was completely open with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the sports bra she was wearing underneath.

With all that skin exposed, Colson could see that she was nearly completely covered in tattoos. Her arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, all the way down to her hands and even fingers. There was an undercarriage tattoo poking out from under her sports bra, and another poking out from her waistband around her hip. She even had one on her neck!

She radiated badass energy, and Colson was drawn to her.

Dom looked up from where he was sat and got up to hug Colson. “Hey mate! Just in time, (Y/N) is finished her verse!”

(Y/N) had stopped rapping when she noticed the commotion outside. She was looking at Dom and Colson, as if waiting for them to tell her what to do.

“(Y/N), come meet Kells!” Dom called.

She walked out from the booth and smiled at Colson. “Nice to meet you. Dom talks so highly of you, and I’m a bit of a fan.”

Colson smiled and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too. Dom’s talked you up to me a lot, too. You definitely live up to the hype.”

(Y/N) tried to hide her smile to keep her cool status, but Colson could see the corners of her mouth tilting upwards. She put her hands in her pockets and shrugged modestly. “I’m okay I guess. Thanks though.”

“Her verse is amazing,” Dom said, bringing the attention back to him. “Just wait till you hear it when it’s finished.”

Colson sat with Dom to go over the verse he had written. (Y/N) sat behind them, distracting herself on her phone while the men worked. Every so often he would glance over his shoulder at her, hoping to catch her attention for even just a moment.

“She’s single mate, go for it,” Dom said in a low voice, but certainly not low enough that (Y/N) didn’t hear it.

Colson’s eyes widened and he quickly looked over his shoulder at her again. Her attention was still on her phone, but there was a knowing smile on her face.

When the three had finished in the studio and were preparing to go, Colson finally decided to talk to (Y/N). She was heading out the door when Colson approached her, falling into step beside her.

“Your tattoos are cool,” he said, immediately cringing at how lame the compliment was.

(Y/N) smiled brightly at him. “Thanks! They better be for how long they took and how much they cost. Yours are pretty sick too.”

“Thanks. A few of them are kind of old and I regret a little but that happens.”

“When you have as many as we do, you eventually regret one or two.”

There was an awkward silence as the two continued into the parking lot. Colson tried to wrack his brain for some way to save the conversation, but everything he came up with felt dumb or lame. He felt his heart fall to his stomach when (Y/N) pulled keys from her pocket and unlocked a car in front of them. He knew he’d eventually see her again, but he didn’t want their time to end just yet.

Before getting into her car, (Y/N) turned to Colson and put her hand out. “Give me your phone.”

He was taken back by such a direct request that his mind couldn’t comprehend what she had asked at first. “What?”

“Phone, unlock, give.”

Colson took his phone from his pocket and did as she asked. (Y/N) opened the contacts app on his phone and added her name and number, and even took a selfie of herself to set as the contact photo. She sent herself a text so she could have Colson’s number before passing the phone back to him.

“Let’s get drinks some time,” she told him before climbing into her car and starting it up. The roaring of the engine made Colson realize that even her car was badass.

He never would’ve guessed that that one encounter would’ve led to such a strong relationship between the two of them. Colson took (Y/N) up on her offer to go get drinks and, next thing he knew, he was waking up the next morning with her in his bed after deciding to be in a real relationship.

When the news hit the media, both of their fanbases exploded with excitement, saying how (Y/N) and Colson were perfect for one another. Even the tabloids couldn’t find a bad thing to say about the relationship. In fact, they constantly praised the two and complimented them whenever they were saw out together. As much as Colson hated the vultures that were paparazzi, it was hard to be as angry when they were actually saying nice things about him and the woman he loved.

And Colson couldn’t get enough of hyping his girl up. Even when she wasn’t there, all he did was talk about how cool and badass she was. It eventually got to a point that his friends would have to tell Colson that every time he mentioned (Y/N)’s name when she wasn’t around, they were going to hit him.

On the night of Dom’s album release, which featured the song that had brought Colson and (Y/N) together, Dom decided to throw a massive party to celebrate. Colson showed up with his friends, fashionably late as always. It didn’t take him long to navigate the large crowd to find his stunning girlfriend, who was wearing a skin tight black dress that hugged her body and came down to her thighs, paired with a pair of black stiletto heels and her hair pulled back in a braid. Colson couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over her body as he walked up behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, bringing her attention away from her conversation to him for just a moment.

“Sorry to steal her away,” Colson said to her conversation partner, “but I just had to tell my girlfriend how fucking stunning she looks tonight.”

A bright smile spread on (Y/N)’s face as the person she was talking to made a fake vomiting sound, but was smiling none the less.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, hot stuff,” she said with a wink. “Wanna grab a drink and I’ll be over in a minute?”

“Sounds good, baby.”

Colson kissed her head as his hand trailed from her waist to her ass, giving it a quick squeeze before walking away. (Y/N) turned and watched him go with wide eyes, but also with an amused smile on his face. He smirked to himself as he made his way to the bar.

Slim and Rook were already stood there, two empty glasses in hand but too distracted by their conversation to get refills. Colson ordered two drinks, one for himself and one for (Y/N), before looking back across the crowded room at her. An involuntary smile stretched across his face as he looked at the familiar tattoos that were peaking out from her dress.

“Bro, if you say one thing about (Y/N) I am going to punch you in the fact,” Slim said, snapping Colson out of his trance.

“What?” he said. “Dude I wasn’t going to say anything about her.”

“You have that look on your face man,” Rook pointed out. “The look that says the next thing out of your mouth is gonna be something about how badass (Y/N) is.”

The bartender passed Colson his drink and he immediately swallowed half of it. “I’m sorry for thinking my girlfriend is the coolest shit since sliced bread, but that’s how relationships are supposed to work.”

“That’s not how they’ve worked with you before,” Slim said.

“Yeah, before it was a lot of sex and PDA and eventual fighting,” Rook added.

“What I have with (Y/N) ain’t like that, guys,” Colson said. “I know I move way too fast in relationships and they all end the same way, but when I say that it was love at first sight for me with (Y/N), I mean it. I mean, look at her, how can you not love her? She’s not just another girl who wants to be all over me and gets jealous or upset when I’m gone for long because she actually understands that this is how my job works. And she likes to drink and smoke weed and party, so she’s actually fun to hang out with. On top of all that...well...just look at her! She’s smoking hot and badass as fuck. I’m sorry that I tend to talk too much about her and all, but I can’t help it. I’m really happy.”

During his speech, Colson hadn’t noticed that (Y/N) had finished with her conversation and approached the three of them. She joined the group just in time to hear how happy he was to be with her, which had managed to bring happy tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them away as to not ruin her makeup, but it was hard when Colson’s kind words were replaying in her head.

“You mean that?” she asked, causing the three men to jump and to look at her.

“Damn, you move quick girl,” Slim commented.

“How much did you hear?” Colson asked.

“Enough of it,” she responded.

Slim and Rook exchanged a glance before excusing themselves from the conversation. Colson held out (Y/N)’s drink to her and she gladly took it. She leaned into his side as he wrapped his arm around her again, fitting perfectly against him like two puzzle pieces.

“I meant every word I said,” he told her. “I think you’re the coolest chick I’ve ever met and then some. Way too good to be dating a dork like me.”

“You’re anything but a dork,” she said. “And even if you were, you’re my dork, and I can’t imagine having anyone else by my side.”

Colson smiled that adorable, goofy smile that (Y/N) loved so much. She mirrored it before leaning up to kiss his lips. His grip around her waist tightened as he held her close, never wanting to let her go.

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.” 

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be. 

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go. 

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays. 

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home. 

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing. 

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids. 

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve. 

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea. 

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy. 

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry. 

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.” 

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead. 

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone. 

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go. 

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too. 

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again. 

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door. 

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse. 

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub. 

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577. 

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows. 

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see. 

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him. 

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else. 

“Just a pint,” I tell him. 

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her. 

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop. 

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl. 

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where. 

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head. 

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do. 

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight. 

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1. 

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born. 

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.” 

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly. 

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight. 

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns. 

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly. 

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.  

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention. 

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis. 

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again. 

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle. 

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did… 

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing. 

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle. 

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics. 

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk. 

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap. 

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it. 

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time. 

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either. 

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window. 

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me. 

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly. 

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it. 

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me. 

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room. 

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly. 

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up. 

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal. 

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life. 

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What? 

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say. 

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.” 

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.” 

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it. 

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me. 

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now. 

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife. 

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk. 

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle. 

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh. 

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer. 

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter. 

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.” 

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head. 

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly. 

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?” 

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm. 

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.” 

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards. 

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses. 

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her. 

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead. 

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door. 

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week. 

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating. 

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside. 

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed. 

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously. 

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.” 

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll. 

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me. 

-

Read part II here!

[burning-fcols]

「 ☆ 」 Laughter is the only confirmation Husk gets until he checks the mirror for himself. Angel watching his boyfriend wipe away the mark, confident Husk isn’t going to manage to keep clean… There are plenty of kisses left to give, both treat-wise and teases. Who knows, maybe Husk could be even more intimately acquainted with the color of Angel’s lipstick later that night. Mere thought sends a shudder throughout Angel’s body, fluffing up his fur as he envisions trailing a vibrant path down Husk’s only to then smear the color all over his di—

❝ You an’ me both, babe. ❞ He offers with a roll of his eyes in annoyed solidarity. As much as he cares for Charlie and has come around to appreciating what she’s trying to do— even if he still doesn’t fully believe in it or the complete lack of having ❛ an angle ❜ she dilutes herself into believing —that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get under his fur at times. One of the biggest culprits being those god-awful skits she’s overly-fond of. She means well. He knows she does… but does she have to rub in his face how much he’s SCREWED UP everything whenever she does so? Angel would never say it out loud but if he had the choice between one of Val’s dime-a-dozen F-tier porn plots or being the ❛ big baddie ❜ of Charlie’s home theatre? Well… At least on the film set, his friends aren’t watching.

He meets Husk’s suggestion with a sharp bark of a laugh, intending to be jokingly dismissive of such a well-meaning but ridiculous idea. Blinded by those rose-colored glasses Bo has on when it comes to his angel. Halfway out of the room, a hand rests on the doorframe, Angel spares a glance over his shoulder, ❝ C’mon, baby… I’m an actor, not a writa’. ‘Sides, I could bust out th’ next Casablanca an’ it wouldn’ make much of a diff’rence. ❞ Gaze looks into the hallway instead, Angel unwittingly letting his playful smile slip into something more… resigned. Shoulders droop ever-so-slightly, matching the sound of his weak addition as if not intended for Husk to hear.

❝ They’ll neva’ take me seriously as an actor… ❞

No matter how many times he might say it, how much literal blood sweat and tears goes into doing what he does… when it all boils down to it? To them, he’s a glorified fuck-doll that gets filmed. It’s not exactly the type of acting he used to dream of but— … part of him is still proud of it. Still sees the merit in what HE brings to the stage. Even if the others won’t. Even if they may be right to not. It’s like Valentino never fails to remind him, people don’t watch for the dialogue or the plot or anything he gives aside from the sight of his body.

With a discreet inhale and a slight straightening of his spine, Angel starts making his way to the kitchen. Calling out to his boyfriend with a playful flutter of his fingers, ❝ A’ight, enough blabbin’ an’ more bakin’. I want ta get these fucka’s started b’fore Niff can get a chance ta barge in foamin’ at th’ mouth. Y’know how territorial she can get about th’ kitchen if it’s too close ta dinna’time. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

The 'accusation' wasn't denied as Husk let himself fall back into those warm memories, those being so far and few in between, but the good was always great, and the bad a nightmare. "Eh, y' were busy with all yer face shit, didn't wanna interupt." Husk had always enjoyed watching Angel Anthony do his makeup, it mesmerizing to follow steady hands as they flowed through the motions.

Choosing to focus on the ruffle of his hair as opposed to how much he hated Anthony's father, Husk fought to keep kept a smile on his muzzle as he shook his head to further suly the longer fur. That smile came all the easier as his face was held and the kiss pressed against his fur, Husk too excited about cookies to realize he had been marked until he was watching Angel saunter away. He knew a performance when he saw one, especially when it came to his angel. "Did you just fuckin' lipstick me?" Though it was clear Husk didn't mind by the snort of a laugh mixing in with his words, the cat stopping at the mirror Angel had just been sitting at to wipe it clean. He always loved when Angel was testing out new lipsticks.

"Those fucks don't deserve yer fuckin' cookies, but if I gotta sit through another of her shit ass plays, I'm gonna lose my fuckin' mind." That...might not even be a joke. He hated how Angel was always the villain in those. "You seriously gotta write her better skits, maybe then they'll take yer actin' seriously." Those porn acts didn't do Angel Anthony justice.