#should i reach out. just a happy birthday and im sorry

[kunikisss]

its her birthday tomorrow

[cryonme]

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐔𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

—graham dunne x fem!reader

—summary: the story of you and graham dunne was never simple, but his love for you never faltered.

— word count: 2.7k

—tw: addiction, implied drugging, alcohol, cursing, reader says she "doesn't wanna be here anymore", very obvious signs of mental illness, the works...

—a/n: so... I did not intend for this fic to be this long or this sad, but here we are. I'm breaking it into two parts so its easier to read, part two is coming shortly!! I apologize for how sad this is lol but I promise its a happy ending story! also, sorry for how I wrote daisy! she's my girl and I love her, it was just for the plot I swear! this is the first fic I've posted in about 6 months so im rusty, please be kind! and please, don't read if anything listed in the triggers is going to upset you, I want you all happy and comfortable! XO

(flashbacks in italics)

Nothing was ever Daisy’s fault, was it?

At least, that’s what Graham Dunne thought when he got a call from Karen saying his girl was wasted at a party with Daisy attached to your hip.

She should have known what you were struggling with, she should have known that you couldn’t handle a party, she should have known this wasn’t what you needed. Daisy Jones should’ve fucking known.

To be completely fair, they really all should’ve known. You’d been around since day 1. Everyone knew better, Daisy just happened to be the red corvette.

-

“You can’t keep doing this, my love.” Camilla whispered oh so gently, holding your hair back from your face, pressing a cold rag to your neck.

It was a small gig, at some shitty bar called Tony’s in Pittsburgh. The band always had a couple beers and maybe a shot or two before a show but you had begun to need more. You snuck vodka into your water bottles and begged the bartenders to sneak you a couple free extras by pulling your top down and leaning over the bar, using your forearms to push your tits up. 

It worked every time. Pigs.

“Can do whatever I want.” You slurred, cheek pressed to the toilet seat.

But damnit, you knew she was right.

Tony’s wasn’t the first time.

There was Rod’s, and The Ladie’s Room, and The Shiner Saloon, and some girl named Lisa’s 18th birthday party. It was becoming a pattern, everyone could tell.

You always went back to your house after a show. Your parents had been completely absent since you were 15, you never knew where they were. And after every show, their cars were never once in the driveway.

A safespace.

Billy would sit outside of the bathroom, head leaning against the door while Graham waited in the living room, arms crossed and head down, not wanting to listen to your cries and shakes of pain.

Eddie would retreat to the guest room, but he usually wouldn’t be able to fall asleep til he heard the click of your door next to his.

Warren would be passed out on the couch as soon as you all walked through the door, not that he didn’t care about you immensely, but the poor kid could just not stay awake if he was tired.

“I wanna go to bed.” You said.

Camilla sighed, “Are you sure you’re ready?”

You nodded and so did Camilla. She got up to get Billy like she always did, and he’d come and pick you up off of the bathroom floor, as he always did, and carry you to your room and lay you on the bed, letting Camilla make sure you’re comfortable, like she always did.

Graham would come in and ask how you’re doing, like he always did, and he’d make himself comfortable on your floor with throw pillows and spare blankets, like he always did.

But that night, after Tony’s, things changed.

“I can’t do this anymore, Graham.” You whimpered.

Fuck.

This was early days, Graham was still awkward as hell and didn’t know how to go about things like this.

“Do what?” He croaked, mustering up the courage to be there for you.

“This. I can’t live like this. I’m afraid I’m gonna kill myself.”

Graham was up in an instant, reaching for the doorknob. “Do you want me to get Camilla?”

You shook your head, “No, please. Just-” You wiped a tear from your cheek, “Will you just lay with me?”

“Anything.” Graham breathed as he settled into bed next to you. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, being too drunk to care about any awkwardness and Graham was thankful.

“We’ll get you out of this, promise.”

-

That was the last time anybody saw you drink anything besides a beer or two, following that was shirley temples and cherry cokes.

Nobody really knew the heaviness of addiction then, but they knew that you were happier, and that’s all that really mattered to them. You were even laughing at Warren’s jokes and Billy and Eddie’s lame bickering, everything felt okay.

“You don’t drink?” Karen had asked, the first time you properly met in California, while she was digging through the fridge searching for a beer. You shook your head, hoping you weren’t going to get some crazy reaction like you were a zoo animal in a cage like you got from most people.

She just nodded, a small smile playing at her lips as she pulled two coca cola bottles from the fridge, popping them open with her ring and handing you one.

“Cheers to that.”

You were sober enough to realize you were in love with Graham, and confident enough to tell him. And man, he could’ve exploded.

There was a celebration, at the house in Laurel Canyon, just the 7 of you.

Warren recalls later that Graham looked like he’d been dipped in sunshine and rainbows.

“Like he’d just smoked sunshine and been fucked by a rainbow. It was crazy, man.”

Well, almost.

You’d been around the band multiple times while they drank and it was never a problem. You’d have the first round of beers with them then tap out, but you always stayed and had fun, smoked a couple joints and cigarettes, never without a mocktail or coca cola in your hand. Sometimes, usually Karen or Camilla, someone would join you on the sober night, and that always felt really nice.

That night had felt different, you were scared.

-

“I’m gonna fuck him up Warren…” You said as you laid on the floor with the drummer as Down By The Seaside by Led Zeppelin played from the record player, Warren laughed.

“Yeah you are.” He said, his tone suggestive as he bumped his elbow with yours.

You rolled your eyes, fighting the heat creeping into your cheeks. “You know what I mean, man. I’m gonna ruin him.”

Warren had known you long enough and listened to enough of the songs you wrote to where he’d like to think he knew you pretty well.

And you never opened up out of the blue unless you were drunk.

“Have you been drinking?” He asked, not looking up from the ceiling. You scoffed.

“I still have a beer here and there, Warren.”

“You know what I mean, man.” He repeated your words back to you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I’m going to bed.” You said and stood up, trying your hardest not to stumble or slur.

“Honey…” Warren started, pushing himself off of the floor to try to stop you.

“NO!” You whipped around, flipping your hair so forcefully it stung your face but you were quick to pull it back.

“Don’t fucking- don’t fucking do that, man!” You started, holding a hand up. “My own friends don’t even fucking trust me i’m just constantly babied! Do you know how that feels?”

At that point, Karen, Eddie and Billy had tuned in, being in the kitchen. Camilla and Graham must have been elsewhere, he had always confided in her like a sister.

“Hey–” Billy tried to interject with a hand on your wrist but you were quick to pull away.

“Huh?! Do any of you know how that feels?!” You were borderline screaming now, and everyone was speaking to you so softly, hands slowly trying to grasp you and it made you want to scream even louder.

“How dare you ‘ccuse me of something like that asshole?” You were beginning to slur your words, the tequila you’d snuck from Warren’s room starting to hit pretty heavily, making your eyes droop and words slur.

“Baby, please-” Karen started, making the move to grasp your arm but you turned and lost your balance, nearly falling but Eddie was quick to catch you, he held on tight and didn’t dare let go until you calmed down or Graham came back. Billy had left minutes ago to find him and Camilla, who had taken a walk so he could freely gush about his new girl without the chances of anyone else hearing.

“Need you to calm down, babe.” Eddie whispered, running a hand up and down your arm for comfort.

“None of you even care!”

Warren shook his head alongside Karen, both of them had squatted in front of you, doing their best to provide what you needed.

“That’s not true.”

“I fucking hate you all!” 

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t wanna be here anymore!”

And then he said your name.

You froze.

He was gonna leave you, you were so sure of it. You worked so hard to be better for him and it didn’t work.

“No…” You whimpered and you swore you saw Graham break in front of your eyes.

“You can’t- you can’t see this.”

But he didn’t care. He knelt in front of you and Eddie and gathered you into his own arms, completely silent as he carried you to his room and you wanted to disappear into him so badly.

“‘M so sorry…” You slurred, and still he was quiet. You let him undress you and replace your pretty top and flared jeans with his own tee shirt and boxer shorts.

You watched as he changed into a similar outfit as you picked at your nails. “Graham, I-”

He sighed and placed his hands on either sides of your cheeks, placing a firm kiss on your forehead that only made you cry harder. You brought your hands up to grip his wrists, not willing to let go of the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

Graham was silent again as he pulled you into his bed with him, covering you both with the large duvet.

“Not in the slightest.”

-

That night was really the last night anybody had seen you get drunk like that.

Then, Daisy Jones came along.

And you learned how to keep bad habits a secret.

Tequila and mints in the bathroom, water and cherry cokes with the band. A shot of jameson to fall asleep. Champagne to wake up, brush your teeth. A beer in the shower after lunch, leave the evidence in Warren’s room since there were hundreds of empty ones anyway.

It’s not like Daisy was teaching you one on one, you just started watching her, and you liked the way she got away with it.

No one told Daisy about your issue either, you could hold your own and you had asked them not to, so lips were sealed.

But it took everything in Graham and Billy not to tell her to tread lightly every time they saw the two of you sneak off on your own.

And now here was Graham Dunne, sitting in the driver's seat of the van outside of God knows who’s house, with Camilla in the passenger’s seat and Billy in the back. Moral support. 

“Want us to come with you?”

Graham shook his head. “I need to do this alone.”

Billy scoffed, “I’m not gonna let you go in there with our two hot headed alcoholic rage sisters. Cam, you stay here.”

“Nope, you go I go. You two get our girl, I’ll handle Daisy.”

The three bickered a moment but finally settled on their plan. Graham and Camilla would take you, while Karen and Billy took Daisy, since the blonde girl drove.

“Fucking finally.” Karen exasperated as she saw her friends walk into the backyard of the party while trying her hardest to hold you upright.

“Where is Daisy?” Billy spat immediately, making eyes around the party. You had always been like a sister to him, in the way Camilla was to Graham, and he could’ve killed the redheaded girl in that moment.

“Beats me.” Karen said, passing off your deadweight into Graham, who was quickly supported by Billy. Your head lulled onto your boyfriend's shoulder, recognizing him as a source of comfort even in your inebriated state.

It made his soul ache.

“Is Simone here?” Camilla asked.

Karen shook her head, “Was. Split as soon as she and Daisy got into a fight. Offered to take this one” she nodded her head at you “home with her but I figured it’d be best if you guys came.”

Graham shook his head, “You made the right call, thank you.”

“Yeah, well uh, I sure as hell can’t drive. Got drunk as hell before even stepping foot in the backyard, soon as I saw (Y/n) I stepped in and called you guys immediately.”

“Do we need to get Daisy?”

“That’s a fight you sure as hell don’t wanna have. Yelled at me just for taking ‘her best friend’ away from her to get her some water.”

Billy rolled his eyes.

Graham and Billy began making their way out of the party with you slung around their shoulders, and Camilla walking arm in arm with a very drunk Karen who kept tripping over feet.

And suddenly red hair and sparkling eyes were in front of them.

“Ohhh no, what happened to my girl?” She tried to touch your face but Billy pulled you away, ready to say something before Graham spoke up, surprising everyone.

“Your girl, Daisy?!” His voice boomed, no doubt you’d be embarrassed if you were in any way conscious. “This is my girl, our girl.” He gestured to the rest of the group. “And I’d say it’s in your best interest to leave her the hell alone from now on.”

-

Graham was a mess when he got you home.

Daisy ended up at the house not too long after the rest, explaining she didn’t know the situation, apologizing profusely, informing them all you had been drinking for months. She told them in a sullen voice that you hadn’t been this bad last time she saw her, that she thinks someone must have done it to you.

Graham understood, he did. But he couldn’t look at Daisy. How could she let you out of her sight, to allow someone to do this to you? It made his stomach turn. Billy was next to his brother this time, in the living room, a hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing from time to time, and instead of standing Graham sat with his head in his hands, creating knots in his hair as he ran his fingers through it. Cam and Karen had you in the bathroom, after seeing the panic in Graham’s eyes they decided to take over that part, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for him to see. Warren stayed up, and Eddie didn’t retreat to his room, Daisy paced back and forth outside of the bathroom, biting her nails. Graham could hear it, it was driving him nuts.

“Would it kill you to be quiet for two seconds, Daisy?!” He groaned, running a hand over his red splotchy face.

Everyone knew that Graham was just upset and taking it out on Daisy, the red corvette, which wasn’t exactly fair, but they also knew better than to argue with Graham at that point.

“You know what, Graham?!” Daisy stomped into the living room, planting herself in front of the Dunne brothers with her arms crossed.

Graham didn’t look up.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!” Daisy used her thumb and pointer finger to grip his chin and pull his face up to look at her and she immediately felt guilty at his tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

She sighed, and crouched before him.

“I know it’s hard, and I’m so, so sorry this is happening to her. But she makes her own decisions, Graham. No one could’ve stopped her.”

Graham nodded, but still wouldn’t look in her direction. “Will you go check on her, please?”

Daisy would later tell the story with a frown on her face, and she’d recall never being that scared for another person before, despite the smile she put on for Graham.

“I didn’t-” She took a breath, “I’d never seen it that bad before, at least not while I was sober. I thought she was going to die.”

Daisy retreated to yours and Graham’s shared room shortly after discovering she couldn’t stomach staying in that bathroom, deciding to make herself useful by getting the bed ready, fluffing the pillows and retrieving some fresh clothes for you to wear to bed, making sure she grabbed ones that smelled like your boyfriend. She dropped the clothes off in the bathroom, and passed along the message to Graham from Karen and Camilla that it was time to take you to bed.

This had been Billy’s job, since before The Six was even The Six, that’s how it went. But things had changed, Graham had grown, and it was his turn.

part two coming soon!

[snowyquokka]

Hi gorgeous 💞

I honestly love you work, thank you so much ❤️

If it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so can you write a hyunjin x f reader smut +fluff with him giving reader his birthday gift for her (surprise me with your writing)?

I would really appreciate it 🥺

Bye 👋

SYMPHONIES

cw: mature content MDNI, fem reader, oral *f receiving, swearing, friends to lovers, no aftercare shown but is implied

wc: 1.3k

a.n - happy birthday beautiful!! i hope this was a good enough present <3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

12:00 AM

Tons of DMs, calls and texts erupt on your phone simultaneously, wishing you a happy birthday. Everyone but the one you wanted most.

Is it wrong to be in love with your best friend since the sixth grade? To a normal person, maybe, but to you it’s the reality you’re forced to live.

4:00 AM

Did he forget? You can’t blame him; he is an idol after all and he’s probably exhausted. At this point the group chat you are in with all the guys is blowing up to the point where you had to silence it once you realized that Hyunjin wasn’t responding or jumping in the conversation.

CHILDREN OF CHAN

|lixie - happy birthday cutie

|hanji - HAPPY BIRTHDAY

|hanji - get ready to party bitch. it’s on

|seungmo - im not getting stuck with han’s shitfaced ass this time

|minhoe - it’s only like one in the morning and you’re already plotting?

|innie - felix get back on league

|channie - im trying to sleep

|seungmo - put your phone on silent then old man

|seungmo - nvm you probably dont know how at ur jurassic age

You let out a small laugh and bite your lip, contemplating if you should thank them or not. Ultimately deciding against it and telling yourself that you’ll do it when you wake up, you turn off your phone and roll over onto your side, soundlessly falling asleep.

10:00 AM

There’s a knock at the door, startling you out of yet another poor attempt at sleeping. You hop out of bed sluggishly and make your way to the living room. To your surprise, Hyunjin is leaning against the doorway, having let himself in with the emergency key you gave him when you first moved in.

“Just in case,” He insisted, “What if something happens and you need me? Or vice versa.” The fact that you believed that would be the only scenario he used it for seemed a bit foolish as he visited more and more.

You spot a somewhat large box, royal blue with a red ribbon on top, in Hyunjin’s hands. He smiles and pushes off the doorway. “I’m sorry to intrude like that, you weren’t answering your phone.” He says when he reaches you.

You shrug, “It’s okay. I was only sleeping.” Hyunjin nods and places the box in your hands with a sly grin, “Open,” He gestures towards the box. You move to the couch and take the lid off the box. The first thing on top is your very own Jiniret. “So you stop kidnapping my child,” Hyunjin laughs and slides onto the couch next to you. The next thing you pull out is an all black hoodie and when you turn it around you see Hyunjin’s name on the back. The small gesture shouldn’t cause butterflies to emerge in your stomach, but it does to your dismay.

You take out the rest of the stuff (a few small fake plants, Versace perfume that you scold him for buying for you, and a couple of his PCs sprinkled in between everything). You finally reach the bottom and furrow your eyebrows when you pull out a blindfold. You look at Hyunjin whose expression has morphed into something mischievous. He moves the box out of your lap and takes the blindfold out of your hands before tying it around your head, obstructing your vision.

“C’mon, stand up.” You do and Hyunjin slides his hand in yours, guiding you somewhere.

After a few moments you assume you’ve reached your bedroom, the smell of your favorite candle filling the air. The door clicks behind you and now you’re hyper aware of Hyunjin’s presence.

“Why are we in my room, Jin?” Instead of answering you, he runs his fingers delicately down your bare forearms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“I think we can both agree that we have more than just a normal friendship, don’t you think?” Hyunjin’s voice has noticeably dropped, causing shivers to wrack your body. Your heartbeat quickens so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. “I asked you a question, baby.”

Are you dreaming? You must be dreaming. There is absolutely no way you aren’t. He would never say anything like this. Right? Right. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin places his hands on your hips and presses you flush against his body.

Maybe you aren’t dreaming, judging by the very real, sizable erection digging into your stomach. “Hyunjin I-” You aren’t too sure what to say except to agree with him. He walks you back to the bed and gently lets you down, climbing over you soon after.

“Are you sure?” You know for sure that he would never lie about something like this, especially with you. You’re asking yourself more than you are him.

He toys with the hem of your shirt, “May I?” You nod and raise your arms as he lifts it over your head before immediately attaching his lips to your neck. Hyunjin nips at your shoulder and collar bone before making his way down to your breasts. “Do you want this?”

“Yes, please.” You whine. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere. His mouth attacks your right breast, his other hand massaging the other. Your back arches in pleasure and you can’t help but let out a groan. How can’t you when Hwang fucking Hyunjin has his pretty pink lips wrapped around your nipple.

“Fuck, baby. You make the sexiest sounds.” Hyunjin drops to his knees, pulling your shorts and panties down with him. His mouth waters at the sight of his index finger being swallowed whole by your tight heat.

“Holy shit,” You say breathlessly. You raise your hands to take the blindfold but he stops you.

“Not yet, baby. Want to make you come first,” With that he adds another finger and watches, mesmerized, as your cunt takes his digits. The lewd sounds filling the room are enough to make him bust right then and there. He manages to pull himself together though. That is, until he gets a taste of you.

Hyunjin’s tongue slides in between your folds in one flat stripe and he groans. The groan is so deep that you feel it vibrate through your entire being. He traces figure eights across your clit and you swear you're in heaven. His tongue is euphoric and the feeling of his delighted groans are better than ecstasy.

“Hyune, please. I’m almost there.” Your fingers tug at his roots so hard you might have to apologize later. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind very much.

“You’re so good for me, baby. Come on, finish for me. Let me hear those pretty little symphonies of moans.” You clench around his fingers as he increases the pressure on your clit, giving you a knee buckling orgasm. You crash so hard that Hyunjin has to hold up your waist to prevent you from falling.

He chuckles and licks the insides of your thighs clean before rising to his feet and pulling you into a wet kiss, your own juices invading your tastebuds. Hyunjin finally lets you take off the blindfold after helping you sit up. The man in front of you looks so proud of himself with a lopsided grin, your release glistening on his lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He pulls you into another kiss and cups your jaw.

“This gonna happen every year?” You smile. Hyunjin shakes his head.

“This is gonna happen whenever you’ll let me.”

[em1e]

⠀ ⠀ ༝ i hate you for what you did, and i miss you like a little kid.

⠀ 一虎 // MOTION SICKNESS ⠀ ༝ ༝ kazutora hanemiya ⠀ ༝ ༝ 2.3k words ⠀ ⚠︎ angst + valhalla spoilers + IM SORRY ! ⠀ — he’s taller, now, hair bleached, but it’s still those same wide eyes that meet your own.

january 16, 2000 

baji and kazutora were constants in your life. 

being neighbors with baji left you trailing behind him like a puppy, and the idea of having someone as kind as you by his side made him happy - so despite his complaints and the bickering that always ensued between the two of you, he decided to keep you tucked away like a secret. 

and when he introduces you to kazutora, it’s another warm friendship melting easily with the first. 

and the three of you form an unbreakable bond, with the promise to always help each other when in need. kazutora would spend more time in your house than his own, and your parents take him in easily. it’s a taste of love he’s never felt, and when he lays on your bedroom floor next to a sleeping baji, he finds it hard to fall asleep with that feeling swelling deep in his chest and taking root under his heart. 

august 22, 2003 

it’s baji who comes to your door late one night. who else, when his other half is in juvie as he tells you. 

you break into a sob at the news, and it’s baji who holds you with apologies falling off of his lips as if somehow he’s to blame for it all. 

he holds you until you wear yourself out, and stays with you when you beg him to through tears. another promise it made there, to never leave one another behind, and it’s a promise you intend to hold kazutora to once he’s released. 

baji rubs your back until you’re asleep, and he wonders if there was something he could’ve done to avoid this heartache; from seeing his friend carted away in handcuffs, from seeing you cry. he wishes he could go back, just for a moment, to change this outcome. 

september 12, 2004

you wrote to kazutora when you could, but never received any replies. baji caught you once in the middle of you preparing a life update, snatching the paper from your desk and holding it above your head when you reached for it. 

“give it back, baji!” 

he stands on his toes to keep it out of your grasp, and chifuyu grumbles from your floor something about that not being the study sheet we’re working on. 

“what’s this, a love letter?” he snorts, squinting to read the letters, “‘happy birthday kazu! baji and i miss you lots, even if he won’t say it outloud-’.” 

you stomp on his foot and snatch the letter away when he slouches in pain, glaring at him, “you’re such a dick sometimes.” 

“he never writes you back, i don’t know why you keep sending those.” baji huffed out, sitting on the floor beside chifuyu, “he probably doesn’t even get them.” 

“what does it matter,” you roll your eyes, placing the paper in a folder and leaving it on your desk, exchanging it for the aforementioned study sheet, “s’not like it’s anything to do with you anyways.” 

“it does,” he argues, despite the glare you send him, “my name is very clearly mentioned.” 

“i just don’t want him to think we’ve forgotten about him or don’t care about him.” you say finally, and the way your gaze falls on him leaves him looking away with a small fine, whatever. 

the tension that remains bleeds from the air and crawls under your skin, but chifuyu clears his throat and flips through the first few pages of the worksheet with a hum, “what the fuck is hydrolysis?” and that is enough to clear the air.  

october 20, 2005

two years pass and not a single letter is returned. 

some days you wonder if you should call the center, ask if maybe there was something wrong with what you’re putting in them as if that could be the reason he isn’t getting them, but the fear of knowing that not being the reason he won’t reply frightens you beyond belief. you want to ask the post office if there’s any way all one-hundred and six letters could have been lost in the mail or sent to the wrong place, but you’re all-too aware of the return address being labeled as your home. 

instead, you settle with the unknown. there’s no getting hurt that way, no way of truly finding out if he was ignoring you for all of two years. 

it’s not until you bump shoulders with a stranger outside of the market that you get to piece things together. you’d recognize that tiger tattoo from anywhere. 

“‘tora?” 

the bags you’re holding almost slip from your grasp, scrambling to free a hand to grab at his elbow and turn him around. he’s taller, now, hair bleached, but it’s still those same wide eyes that meet your own. you swallow dryly. 

“when- when’d you get out?” 

he tilts his head at you, earring chiming from the movement, “last week. thought baji would’ve told you.” 

“me too . . .” you’re hurt by the admission, he can tell. you clear your throat, “the letters i sent - did you ever get them?” 

“i did.” 

the confession is enough to break what little resolve you have, frowning, “unable to reply, or . .?”

“didn’t see the need, “ he hums out, straightening with a smile when he looks behind you. a glance over your shoulder and you see baji, sharp toothed grin faltering when his eyes find you. 

“what a nice reunion,” baji settles for when he finds himself standing beside kazutora, patting your head before wrapping an arm around kazutora’s shoulders, “should’ve planned a picnic or somethin’.” 

you shove at baji’s shoulder half heartedly, “why didn't you tell me kazu was released, you asshole. and what happened to your knuckles?”

he jerks his hand from your grasp when you grab for it, ignoring the hurt you hold in the furrow of your brow at his reaction. 

“huh? must’ve slipped my mind,” he pulls on kazutora’s shoulder, forcing him to turn, “anyways, we gotta go! have plans we just can’t miss.” he gives a wave as he walks away, kazutora in tow. 

you come home that night to a message from baji. barely able to finish reading it through your tears, but you’re able to get the basic understanding. 

kazutora and i decided we’re on different paths in life, so we’re cutting you out. 

the promise to stay together breaks apart by the seams with each tear that falls down your cheeks. kazutora never replied to your letters, didn’t even bother to look for you after he got out, and baji’s being ripped from your grasp. it feels like every piece of yourself you’ve been holding onto for the past two years is being brutally torn away from you with each second that passes, and for the first time in your life, there is no one there to help you hold it all together. 

november 3, 2005

you’d been planning his birthday for weeks before the actual date. despite the message he sent to you previously, you’d continued to prepare for something, even if he wouldn’t show up. 

except, that’s not the reason he doesn’t come. 

it’s chifuyu now, who distributes the bad news to you with a frown, and you want to tear down each decoration you’ve put around your home as if that’d undo the words that have left his lips. 

and when you crumble to the floor, it’s chifuyu who comforts you in a way that’s all too familiar, but never the same as before. you’d never feel that comfort again, nor the warmth that'd surround baji like a fire. you have to pry the details out of him, beg for anything he’s willing to give. how did it happen. was it painless. did he suffer. did he cry. who started it.

he answers to the best of his ability through his own tears, explaining kazutora stabbed him first but baji delivered the final blow to himself, and those words leave you folding in on yourself even more.

“kazutora’s in jail now for that, will be for ten years.” 

it’s like each new addition to the story is you taking punch after punch, and chifuyu is glad that little bit of information is last on his list - unsure if you can take anymore hits. you’re practically gasping for air by the end of it, and with some effort, chifuyu is forcing you to sit up, forcing you to take a second and just breathe. 

he only goes home when the reality of it all has settled, leaving you hollow sitting on your bed. on numb legs, you stand and walk to your desk, ripping out a page from your notebook to hastily write. 

i hate you, kazutora. i want you and baji back and i hate you for taking him away from me. i hate you and i miss you and you’re the worst

the words blur together, ink bleeding into blobs as your tears fall onto the paper. you crumble up the page and throw it across the room with a sniff, unable to believe what you’ve written. 

july 05, 2015

your brows furrow at the sound of knocking on your door. chifuyu told you he’d be an hour late to your hangout, stuck organizing a shipment that came early he’d told you over the phone, but the sound of knocking again proves he’s a liar. 

“you don’t have to knock if i know you’re coming-” you start as you pull the door open, only to stop when it’s not chifuyu behind it. 

kazutora stares at you, and it’s still those same wide eyes as he takes you in. there’s no blonde left in his hair, you note dully, and he’s gotten taller. you’re practically frozen in place by his appearance on your doorstep. 

“hi.” he breathes out finally, offering a bouquet you hadn’t even realized he was holding, and his lip quivers when you hesitate to take it. 

you clear your throat, “when . . . when did you get out?” you look down at the flowers to avoid looking at him and god he could break down right here. the smell of your home comes off in waves, clawing at the deepest parts of him and settling with the reminder of childhood. he wants to bottle it up, breathe it in for the rest of his life to keep those memories forever. 

“few days ago. ‘fuyu picked me up.” 

you pull your lip between your teeth, a nasty habit he remembers when you were young, before you’re taking a step back so he can enter your home. he does so slowly, as if any sudden movement could startle you away from him. he’s almost certain it would. 

“was waiting on him,” you mumble out, finally looking at him, “‘fuyu.” you’re unsure why you clarify, but he nods nonetheless. 

“he told me.” 

silence fills the air again, neither of you wanting to break what fragility remains on your shoulders, until kazutora moves to dig through the bag he’s brought with him. you eye him warily, still very unsure of what to make of it all, when he pulls out a folder filled with stacks of papers. 

he offers it to you, and you take it with less hesitation than before, trading it with him for the bouquet so you can open it properly. 

august 30, 2003

dear kazutora, 

kazutora watches as your eyes widen while they dance across the paper, immediately beginning to flip through each of the worn pages as if the rest of the stack could be fake, before you meet his gaze. 

“are these . . ?” 

“i kept them all.” he explains softly, trying so so hard to read your expression. 

and when you throw yourself into his arms, almost crushing the flowers between the two of you, he’s stunned. 

he holds you when your knees buckle, and carefully eases the two of you to the ground. holds you when your tears stain his shirt, and holds you even tighter as apologies fall from his lips. for baji, for not caring enough, for not righting his wrong when he should’ve. for not writing you back. 

as he breathes you in, he realizes how familiar this feels, how familiar you are, and suddenly he’s back to being a stupid thirteen year old with an even stupider adoration for you. he’s scared he’s squeezing you too tight, but you’re holding him like he’s your last lifeline and it takes all of him not to do the same. 

“i don't want to be like baji and not tell you how much i missed you.” he whispers, and it has a small laugh leaving your lips. a sound he hasn’t heard in so fucking long, it’s all he want to hear for as long as he’s alive. 

“i forgive you,” you say softly, when the tears finally subside and your grip on one another lessens enough for you to be able to lean away and look at him, “forgive you for baji and not caring and not writing me back.” 

the remission is enough to have him fighting back his own tears, and when you brush a strand of hair from his face to cup his cheek softly, it breaks what little resolve he has left. then it’s you taking him back into your arms, holding him as gently as you can as the assurances pass your lips as something so sweet and soft and everything he has ever missed in the last twelve years sits cradled in his arms. 

there’s something so sickly sweet about it all that has chifuyu wishing he would’ve been a little more precarious while putting everything away at the shop - regrettably ruining the moment when he stumbles into your house with beers and yakisoba.

[camywamycam]

what was left behind in the rubble P.2

1,150 words

soon to be harry x reader 

summary: you moved in with your father Sirius Black from California two months ago and he completely ignores you when Harry arrives for your birthday your adoptive father visits you and hell breaks loose.

Sirius Black had many questions, as did everyone else. Harry had been talking with Sirius about something, but at this point, he couldn't remember because of how often the subject would change. that's when he heard a knock on the door and the hushed voice of Remus who was practically interrogating him. "who are you? how did you find this place" Remus said harshly. As the man was about to answer both men heard a loud gasp coming from the hallway. Harry and Sirius both watched as y/n practically jumped off the staircase into the grasp of the strange man. "I can't believe you're here!" "Of course I'm here it's not like I would've missed your birthday," Joel said in a sarcastic voice. Joel was a large man. standing 6'5 (taller than Sirius by 8 inches) and he had a scowl embedded permanently on his stubble-covered face. he was quite intimidating to put it shortly, although Harry could tell that wouldn't stop Sirius and his stupidity from picking a fight with the man. Joel smiled as he put down the strange object he was holding and spun y/n around. Harry looked at Sirius with wide eyes as Sirius stood up and walked cockily toward the much bigger man.

I'm sorry, and you are? Sirius said in a rude tone as Remus just stood back in shock. he and Molly had been trying to get you to open up to them for months. you never smiled or left your room. they would invite you to partake in activities with them but you would always refuse and opt to stay in your room with your muggle cassette tapes and guitar. seeing you switch up your demeanor and so easily jump into the arms of this random man made him reflect upon himself. maybe he should've tried harder. maybe he should try to bond with you over your interests. he felt as if he failed to be your godfather. Sirius despite having ignored you during all the time you had been staying in his house had a random rush of a fatherly authority. who was this strange man holding his daughter? Who the hell did he think he is? instead of wondering why you didn't act that way with him, he chose to ignore how happy you were with him and focus on getting this guy out of his house. "oh um Im Joel, her muggle guardian, that's what they call us right y/n? muggle?" "yeah Dad" Sirius felt his heart drop. all of a sudden his reality dawned on him. you never called him that. he never gave you the father-daughter relationship he was supposed to give you, instead he pushed you away just as he did your mother before she passed. though, he was much too prideful to let his self-reflection show in the presence of all these people. he was much too prideful to admit he had fucked up, it was a talent he carried throughout his life. his blissful ignorance. "I'm sorry but this home is being used by the order, you can't be here," he said in an attempt to get him to leave. Harry just watched as the other nosey children of the home started filling in the room silently as if they could smell conflict. Joel having picked up on the negative vibes Sirius sent his way instantly began returning the same hostility. "actually I was just about to leave" Joel said giving Sirius a fake smile "I just wanted to drop off y/ns gift before I take her out for the day" Sirius ignored the new information. he didn't know it was your birthday, he never bothered to ask. "what makes you think you can take out my daughter?" he said making a point to exaggerate the "my" "I'm not your daughter and I never will be" y/n said in a closed off tone. who the hell did he think he is? For the past month, he acted as if you didn't exist while he treated that Potter kid as if he was god himself. Joel noticed you're now closed-off manner and your fidgeting hands as he reached out to put his arm around you to calm you down. Sirius being the ignorant dumb child man he is ignored how uncomfortable you were and instead of backing down he chose to provoke Joel into arguing with her "I'm not letting some junkie take my daughter" "Oh please look at yourself you reek of cigarettes"

before Sirius could get the crap beaten out of him Remus stepped in and made him step down as you and Joel left. Remus had always wanted a family but he ignored the small one in front of him. having seen your beautiful platonic relationship with Joel Remus was now determined to make you feel more included even if he had to drag you out of your room. he was jealous and disappointed in himself.

you didn't come back for a long while. you showed Joel around the area that you were now somewhat knowledgeable about although you pretended as if you were an expert to make him impressed. Joel took you shopping in the muggle side of town, somewhere you haven't been allowed to go to. he even took you to the movies! Joel felt bad for the scene that Sirius he had caused. when you walked into the dining room the tension thickened. the children in the room looked between the adults anticipating drama. "so, how was your day with your drug dealer?" "Sirius that's eno-" "What the fuck is your problem? You never cared about me until now, stop trying to act like your my dad because you never will be!" the table went silent. "I am your father, you are my blood!" Sirius squared like a segal on drugs as Molly ushered the children up the stairs. all left but Harry since he was so entitled to push himself into your problems. "Sirius does everything for you and you treat him like shit!" Harry said ignorantly. "oh I'm treating him like shit? I've talked to him twice in the 4 months I've been here!" you retreated up to your room pushing the other teens who were eavesdropping from the staircase. you flopped on your bed as you curled up into a ball and cried.

Remus felt terrible. even if he had treated you kindly he still sat back and allowed you to be treated as if you were nothing. he should've intervened earlier but now all he can do is hope you are willing to forgive him.

Remus knocked on the door "May I come in?" Remus said wearily "Yeah sure..." Remus walked into the room that was dimly lit by your muggle "led" lights. he didn't speak. he engaged you in his warm hugs and held you as you cried. "shh it's okay, let it out."

tag list 

@moonys0chocolate @venomsvl   @quackitysdrugdealer

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~Mixing up the meals~༺}

A/n: Just a little birthday fic for Thoma the tomato! (This is honestly for you fairy anon so I hope you enjoy <3) I KNOW IT'S LATE AND IM SORRY!!

Other birthday fics I've written:

Albedo

Freminet

Kazuha

𑁍༄Thoma:

Thoma whistled a little tune as he tossed ingredients into the big pot on the burner, doing little tricks with vegetables as you chopped up carrots for yet another dish that was simmering nearby you. You didn't know why he was making so many different meals at once, but it didn't bother you...in fact the entire mood was a happy one, he seemed happy and you were definitely happy.

"Alright, so after we make the food are we going to meet up with Ayaka and Ayato? Should I start making you a cake now?? I'll top it with dango!" You turned to him excitedly, but his smile faltered...had you said something wrong? "Thoma? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing really haha, guess it's just strange to have a day dedicated entirely to me. I enjoy days where I can spoil you and Milady and My Lord. Of course that doesn't mean I don't appreciate everything you all do for me on this day!" He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he waited to see what your response was.

"That's...really sweet of you Thoma, but just like how you enjoy spoiling us...we feel the same about you. I want to give you gifts and celebrate you and I know so many others want to as well..." You kissed his cheek with a light blush and turned to get something out of your bag, "I was going to wait to give this to you till everyone else had given their gifts, but I think you should have them now."

You reached into the bag and retrieved a batch of homemade cookies, the frosting a little wonky and their shapes a little derpy...but Thoma was almost in tears, "You made me cookies? You usually don't cook unless you're with me...thank you beautiful. I love them." He accepted your gift and leaned in to kiss your lips softly, wrapping his arms around you as you whispered, "Happy birthday Thoma"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Happy birthday Thoma!!~*⁠.⁠✧

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ — chrome x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day Chrome!!]

please don't be in love with someone else

a.n. - sometimes chrome just raghhhhhh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHROMEE!! I promise to finish that other fic for you LOL also thank you for being one of my resilient lil construct, my Lucia and Wanshi are happy to be with you <3 mwa mwa (IM SORRY AGAIN IM LATE)

pairing - chrome x f!commandant

words - 7,881 (it's why I took long TvT)

tags/warnings - none. fluff! alcohol is involved yet again! chrome x reader shenanigans. yall up to what happens in the end uwu. non-sexual naked cuddling. cute stuff for chrome because happy activation day!!

The stars seemed to have blessed Babylonia tonight.

A crowded room. A brightly lit, dazzling chandelier. Wine and champagne glasses clinking together. Orchestral music filling the room — this is a sight that those who can afford luxury would generally see in their life. High society placed itself on top of the pedestal, overlooking its body that wore no gold.

Forget the war that raged outside; Babylonia beheld the grandeur of the rich folk for tonight, and the stars had rewarded their presence by granting the brightest evening for them.

Such sight is normal to a Smith. After all, they were always born with a silver spoon, to feed and to be fed by high society, for everyone to see.

But not for Chrome. He always thought this life was never fit for him.

There he is — champagne in hand, forcing laughter and faking smiles to those who are around him. Humanoid legs are already used to the wages of war, yet they trembled under the hours of talking to people that only blur in his M.I.N.D.

He is only here due to his father, Mr. Smith. “For you to be familiar with the people you will work with in the future,” he always said to Chrome, “be on your best attitude. Show them the makings of a true Smith.”

But they only bore him. He would rather be doing things that are mundane in the eyes of high society, such as lounging in the comforts of Strike Hawk's dormitory; dealing with Kamui's antics, helping Wanshi fix his sleeping pod, tasting Camu's dishes...or cleaning the corners of his room, or strolling the walkways of Babylonia, or playing chess with a certain someone...

A scene flashed in his memory — a warm hand reaching out to him, a sweet smile, a soft laugh, and the chessboard with scattered chess pieces in front of him. A scene that happened not too long ago, a memory so fresh that made him flush a light shade of pink. Was it the alcohol? No, usual alcohol would never make a construct drunk, unless...?

“How are you holding up, Chrome?” A familiar voice called out to him.

Mr. Smith. Holding an identical champagne glass in his hand, he looks up to Chrome with an expectant gaze. Chrome straightens, clearing his throat. “Mr. Smith, I am doing well. I have met the people you told me earlier.”

“Glad to know,” He nods, “it's beneficial as a Smith to meet your future prospects. You know that already, Chrome, don't you?”

“I do, Mr. Smith,” Chrome solemnly spoke.

“Other than that, have you seen the Commandants who are invited tonight?” Smith tsked, “they have commendable records. They seem to enjoy tonight's feast before they go back to war once more. Especially Gray Raven's Commandant, hm.”

Chrome's ears perked up. “Gray Raven's Commandant is here tonight?”

He knew the party was for high society, with some specially invited commandants. Yet, Gray Raven's Commandant? He overlooked that part, why didn't he know?

“Yes, it's understandable due to the glory they have brought to Babylonia countless times now.” Smith paused, moving his hand to make a circular motion with his glass, “I've seen them earlier. Now, they are nowhere to be found.”

“Ah,” Chrome slightly faltered, muttering, “a shame.”

“They also seem to blend well with us, I'd say.” Smith hums, taking a sip from his glass now, “they look well with us, even. We should try asking them to join when they retire.”

A particular thought crosses in Chrome's M.I.N.D. — a person wearing a simple dress amongst the crowd yet so vibrant, the same warm hand he saw as she held onto his arm, smiling fondly at him. The very thought that somehow made his heart crumble in a good way —

“Chrome?” Smith asked, causing Chrome to snap back to reality, “are you alright? You look red.”

“I do?” Chrome muttered, “I'm sorry. There must be something wrong with my cooling system after I got injured last battle. I am planning to get a maintenance check once more.”

“Alright then,” waving his hand, Smith nodded, “I'll leave you be. I need to meet with other people.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” Chrome approaches the nearby table tp place his glass, “I will return soon.”

Finally, away from the party, Chrome found himself lingering outside. The garden outside of the hall seems to be the answer to his dilemma, the cool breeze and the artificial night decorated with the authentic stars sparkling above him. He breathes into this sight — once more, a thought that popped into his M.I.N.D.

“The sight may be beautiful in Babylonia,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, “but the ones here on Earth are prettier.”

Bright irises staring at him with a gentle gaze amongst the dark plains, a genuine smile on your lips, “don't you think so, Chrome?”

The memory shook Chrome, his heartbeat skipping. What was it with him lately? Thinking of a particular person that he holds with high regard? It seemed unlike him, the man who only thought of perfection. Battles and tactics are his expertise that makes up his thoughts, yet such stray memories and incredulous scenarios have distracted him since his recent rendezvous with that certain commandant...

His hands tremble. They seem lonely. A small part of him wishes those familiar hands would hold them right now.

Gray Raven's esteemed Commandant. The very thought of her makes Chrome weak. He who should maintain a professional, beneficial relationship with her. Yet, thoughts beyond that relationship seemed to have spawned in his M.I.N.D.

Chrome entertains that thought to no avail. After all, a small part of him wishes he should have seen or heard from you tonight.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star~”

Yes, something like a nursery rhyme that is sung by you. Sometimes, Chrome thinks you drove him insane to the point that he's having hallucinations of you.

“...how I wonder where you are~”

Wait. That voice seems closer and familiar. Surely, he wasn't dreaming. Chrome rushes to the source of the voice.

“up above the world so high,” the voice hiccupped, “like a diamond in the ska-ay~!”

Chrome thinks this sight is one of the best he's ever seen: sitting on the ledge of a fountain, gazing at the water beneath, your sky-blue dress nearly submerged yet you didn't look like she minded; in fact, in your hand was a glass of unfinished wine, and your face seemed too pleased with your antics, a contagious smile written on your face.

Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh. And drunk. (According to Chrome's readings anyway)

“Commandant!” Chrome's voice - shaking? - echoed throughout the garden, making you look, “Over here! What are you doing?”

You finally look at Chrome, your usual bright eyes laced with tiredness and mirth. Upon recognizing the figure that was approaching you, you cheerfully raised your glass to him.

“Hello stranger!!” your shoulders shake with visible joy, “you're hereeee, come on, come on! Join me in watching the fishies~”

Stranger? Perhaps the alcohol fogged your senses. “Fishies?” Curious, Chrome follows where your hand points, to the fountain...devoid of any fish, “I...see?”

Instead of fish, Chrome could recognize that the 'fish' the Commandant referred to are the coins that people must have thrown into the fountain. The reflection brought by the moonlight highlighted with the pattern underneath the fountain must have tricked you into thinking she was talking to fishes. Not wanting to break your delight, Chrome plays along.

“I named that lil' blue fish Lee, because he looks grumpy.” You giggle as you point to a blue-shaded coin, “then that pink one is Liv!”

“That's cute, Commandant,” Chrome chuckles, opting to sit at a considerable distance from you, “who else did you name?”

Lights over the garden seemed ethereal. Haloed with the gentle glow of the skies, the white noise of the party inside the hall, and the mellow laughter of the Commandant — Chrome could easily capture this memory for a lifetime, although you couldn't recognize him. He could try taking away the glass in hand and tell you that you're drunk, but he does not. Instead, he asks more about the 'fishes' you found. And somehow, you went silent.

“Commandant?” Chrome gently pokes the silent Commandant, “are you alright?”

“Mmm,” closing your eyes, you tapped your chin, “stranger, I can't see Chrome...”

The nickname seems to grow on him now. “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe he's sleeping.”

“Fishies never sleep!” opening your eyes just to stare at Chrome, “that's basic knowledge!”

Chrome could finally see you properly: the dress snugly fit you, the train already submerged in the water. Some strands of your hair framed your face perfectly. Alcohol flushed your cheeks in the shade of pink. Irises that still lit brightly amidst the dark, a sight Chrome could never forget. Blinking to come back to reality, Chrome reached out to brush away the strand that was on your lips.

“Some fishes sleep with their eyes open.” Chrome smiled, “but what you said is still, it's true, Commandant is always smart.”

A smug smirk flashed on your lips, arms crossed to assert her amusement, “hm! I told you!”

One of the sleeves fell to your arm as you moved. Flickering to that, Chrome spoke before reaching out to lift it, “Yes, of course. Commandant, are you not cold?”

“Nope!” Somehow filled with a new burst of energy, you drunkenly placed the glass in front of Chrome, making Chrome reel back, before struggling to stand up on the ledge with the heels on. Chrome acts quickly, aiding you by holding your legs for support. “I realized something!”

“Commandant! What are you doing, get down!”

“I need to find Chrome!” you spoke with such reverence, it could make Chrome cry, yet it only made him scared, “he could be drowning!”

Drowning? “Commandant, I know you're smart,” Chrome hesitates, before speaking, “but fishes don't dro-”

“-I know what I'm doing!” you grin at him, rotating your arm as if exercising and exhales, “that's why I'm going to save him from this ocean!”

At that moment, Chrome realizes where he went wrong. “Wait, Commandant, no!”

At least he tried to stop her.

A shivering Commandant is wrapped in Chrome's coat for tonight.

“Are you alright, Commandant?” Chrome spoke as he ran through the streets, “do you still feel cold?”

After the stupid attempt at jumping head-first into the water, Chrome had to save you - even after trying to get away from his hold. Now, you were tightly wrapped in Chrome's coat, carried like a princess in his arms.

Sneezing, you shook your head furiously, “I'm fine, you stranger! Why did you stop me?”

“The waters in Babylonia in the evening get colder. I don't want you to suffer from hypothermia.”

You whine, before sneezing once more. “I was fine! Oh well, I managed to get Chrome though.”

“You managed to- what?”

Fishing out of his hold and the coat, you childishly held out a white and blue-tinted coin. Chrome could only sigh in disbelief.

“Also, put me down, you stranger!” Attempting to wiggle out, you whine more as Chrome tightens his hold on you, the familiar way illuminated by the lights already in sight, “my mama said not to trust strangers!”

“Right,” Chrome laughed, his heart skipping a beat, “don't worry, I'm taking you to Chrome right now.”

Halfway through the run, you drifted off to sleep (and it granted Chrome the opportunity to see you comfortable with your guard down). Finally, they arrived in front of the Smith Estate.

Carefully opening the door, Chrome is met with a comforting silence. Were the cleaning robots still around? He knew his father wouldn't be around until the next day, which meant the robots were the only company. Stepping inside, he finds the place deserted, the faint sound of the Commadant's breathing filling the room. Placing you (not minding the water dripping off of you) to his room on his bed, Chrome rushes to the kitchen.

Still no robots around. Easy to explain and less hassle to explain why a stranger was in his bed. He'll worry about that the next day. Quickly, he grabbed a few pieces of food from the fridge and concocted a hangover drink and water.

Upon returning to his room, Chrome finds you still asleep on his bed. Silently placing the items he brought for you, Chrome wistfully gazes at you.

“you're always taking care of me, Chrome,” you'd say if you were awake, your voice echoes in his M.I.N.D., “I want to return the favor.” (You are now corrupting his thoughts.)

A little stir from you made Chrome snap out of his daydream. Slowly opening your eyes, looking around your surroundings in a daze, Chrome leans down to check on you.

“Commandant,” he softly calls out to you, hand touching yours, “are you awake? Can you sit up?”

“Mmmhm,” rubbing your eyes as you sat up, Chrome aiding you, “where am I...?”

“You're in my room. I will take you back to Gray Raven's headquarters when you've freshened up and rested. Come on, drink some water.”

Your legs dangle on the side of Chrome's bed as you sat up. Your figure, although shivering from the stunt, still seems smaller than him. Chrome reached out to grab the glass of water and hold it out for you, but you only stare at him.

“Commandant?”

“Ch...” you whisper, slowly lifting your cold hands to cup Chrome's cheeks, “Chrome...”

His heart flutters at the call of his name. With a free hand, he caresses the hold on his cheeks. “Commandant?”

“Why are you...hot?”

Chrome's cheeks burn at your touch, he noticed. Was it really the cooling system, or that his growing fondness for the Commandant of another team making him like this?

“The cooling system,” he chose the first option, “I'm trying to get it checked, don't worry.”

“Mmh, Chrome...”

Your innocent, sleepy eyes were looking at him. And you were leaning closer to him. A human instinct, Chrome leans forward as well, until their foreheads touch.

“...Chrome. Why don't you call me by my name?”

It feels expensive. It feels surreal. He wanted to tell her, but the words die in his throat.

“I will only do so, if you wanted me to do it, Commandant.”

“Mmh.” Your breath fans Chrome's own lips, further intensifying the heat in both of your cheeks. “Then, Chrome...”

He closes his eyes. Closer, closer...until you pulled away so abruptly. And then, a warm liquid spilled across his chest.

Chrome's eyes opened. Sometimes, the timings are uncanny.

—

A bathtub full of bubbles, lavender dousing the room with its intoxicating smell. Near the bathtub, Chrome sweats nervously as he stares at the guilty figure sitting on the toilet.

“I'm sorry,” the Commandant, who was usually strong and courageous in the face of danger, shrunk in guilt, voice timid and remorse, “I didn't mean to puke in front of you.”

“It's alright, it's not your fault,” he dismisses it, smiling slightly, “I was planning to get you changed...”

He is already wearing a new set of clothing, compared to you. After that quick nap, you seem sober. But based on Chrome's readings, you are still far from being sober. At least, you recognize him now. Squeaking, you shook your head. “I can't just let it slide. Is there anything I can do for Chrome?”

Kneeling on one knee, Chrome awkwardly pats you. “It's okay, really. Um...”

A reddening blush was on Chrome's cheeks as the words died in his throat. He motions to your soiled clothes, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his pride.

“Commandant, I am going to...” whispering, “...I'm going to take off your clothes so you can...um, take a bath.”

You stare at him. Blinking tired eyes at him, you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

You turn your back on him, presenting the zipper on your back. For you, it seemed normal (Liv and Lucia are always hands-on whenever you are invited to events like this, so they're seen what's behind those clothes). But Chrome, whose ventilation was now out of place from the possible outcomes running through his head, was shaking and turning into a blushing tomato.

“You can unzip me, Chrome,” you pipped, noticing Chrome's silence, “I can't reach the top.”

A shaky exhale from Chrome. He mutters something you couldn't hear, but could feel the small pressure from his hand holding your hair to the side before resting on your shoulder.

“I will...start unzipping you, Commandant.”

It feels...intimate. The way Chrome held onto the zipper with care, thoughts running wild in his M.I.N.D., dragging it down slowly. You notice it, despite the alcohol fogging your thoughts. The sound of Chrome's nervous breathing, the water dripping from the faucet, the bubbles on the tub — it almost makes you sober.

However, a question seemed to linger on your lips. But before you could ask, Chrome had already unzipped your dress, the sleeves finally down on your shoulders.

“I-I'm done, Commandant.”

You turned to Chrome, a smile on your lips, “Thank you! But...are you...okay...?”

“Yes.”

You weren't that convinced. In front of you, Chrome's hands shook, and his face was in the deepest shade of red. You tilted your head to the side, before shimmying out of your clothes. Yes, still in front of the man who has been nothing but an angel to you.

“I'm done!” You excitedly quipped, standing up, causing the dress to fall to the floor. “where am I going next?”

Seemingly snapping out of his trance, Chrome looks down to pick up your clothes and dashes to the door. He stops by the door frame, his back facing you. “I need to put your clothes in the washer. They'll be ready after you take a bath.”

“Chrome, will-”

But he was already out of the door.

Chrome remembers every part of the laundry process, even without help from the robots. Yet, even though he has loaded up the washing machine (he knows it'll be done in at least 2 hours, clean and fragrant), his hands are still shaking, the memory in the bathroom turning his mind into a haze.

Even when he closed his eyes after he unzipped your dress, or when he heard it drop to the floor, he couldn't help but imagine — how your skin must feel under his touch, soft or smooth; the expanse of your back, would there be goosebumps like when you touch him; would there still be a smile on your face even when you would know about his feelings?

He accidentally slams the door of the washing machine too hard. It's all pointless, really; all he wanted was to show how eager his rapt attention, yet terrified that he may have crossed unwanted boundaries. Maybe he needed some rest. That's right - it has been a long week anyways. Sighing, he leaves to go back to the bathroom, in case you fell back to sleep...

— except, he called it too early.

“Chroooome,” you cried out as you whimpered in the tub, bubbles covering everywhere but your face, “I'm drowning!”

Suffice to say, he wasn't going to be relaxed tonight.

The water was warm.

And so was the hand that you wish you held onto as you dangled your arm on the ledge of the tub, reaching out to Chrome, who sat on the floor. You wanted something - but the golden boy wouldn't budge.

“Join meee,” you pouted, “don't you see I am a lonely girl sitting here so lonely?”

The light of the bathroom casts a glow over Chrome's frame. The sound of the water splashing around, paired with his humming, sends your mind in a close lullaby, you fear you'll only fall asleep at this rate.

“I see you well, Commandant.” He shook his head, “however, I will stay here.”

“Mean.” Huffing, you sunk to the comforts of the bubbling water, feigning annoyance to him “At least I could wash your hair...you said you'd allow me to see you with your hair down...”

“Commandant,” it's a surprise how Chrome could still hold his composure, voice calm and cool, “you are drunk. You are also very dirty, so it's best you wash up now and get dressed in something warm.”

“I'm not drunk!” Exasperatedly raising your hands, you glared at Chrome, “and I can't wash my hair...”

You look at him expectantly, to which he stares back with curiosity. Pointing to your wet hair, you whispered. “I always wondered what it's like to have my hair washed.”

“And?”

“Will you...wash my hair, please, Chrome?”

Crossing his arms, he thinks for a moment. “Will you promise not to do anything stupid?”

“No.”

As he scoots closer to you, you reeled back. Chrome mistook it as something else, when he sees the look on your face.

“...don't tell me you are planning to wash my hair in that.”

“Pardon?”

“Strip!” you pouted, “I get fussy when someone isn't touching me.”

In an instant, you see Chrome's cheeks tint a shade of pink. “Commandant, that sounded...”

“Hurry up,” you yawned, scooting a little closer to the faucet on your legs, “I won't look.”

True to your word, you look elsewhere but wherever Chrome was. Raising your hands high to your face (look how pruned they are, the longer you stay), before the shuffling of clothes and the sound of cautiousness tiptoes its way into the water, beside you. From your peripheral vision, you see two hands reach out to hold your open hands — have these hands looked so lonely until Chrome came?

“Look at you,” he huffs, fingers caressing the pad of your pruned fingers, “you should have been faster.”

You find comfort in this cramped space — the warm water that you're doused in, a familiar body close to yours, a heat that you never realized you've been craving all this time. You crawl; on Chrome's legs, your scent intertwined with the smell of lavender, you hope it rubs on the man beside you. Unknowingly, you crawled further, until your back hits the sturdy structure of Chrome's physique, leaning back to curl up in his chest.

“Can we stay like this?” the words slipped past your mouth, faster than you could have noticed. Without a word, his hands drifted to the expanse of your shoulders, your arms, your clavicle.

His hands rest there, as your body relaxes in his embrace. The subtle, erratic beating of his heart is there, it's not a surprise when yours mirrored his. And you smell the hint of vanilla on his skin, forgetting that he's humanoid in these very small moments. Yet, you breathe into it, the smell lulling you to sleep faster.

“If you want to,” he mutters, “I thought you wanted to rest.”

“I do, but I feel comfortable when there's someone else.”

The quiet snap of the shampoo bottle opens. Along the way, he places his hands over your head, gently massaging the tips of your hair to make the shampoo bubble, to your scalp. Gentle, soft as he held you like this. The way he pours the water over your head, careful enough to not let it reach your eyes. You must smell like lavender now; the scent already sinking into your skin, like how Chrome's warmth was seeping onto your cold ones. His touch felt unreal, it makes you want the world to freeze for a moment and only behold this scenario for a long, long time.

“Commandant,” even his voice was a whisper, movements slowing to a stop, a telltale sign that he's done, and a little emotion was hanging on your chest - annoyance - “finish up washing now. Your hair is done.”

A dissatisfied grunt escaped your lips. Sitting up straight, you turned to him, hands outstretched. “Let me wash your hair too.”

Slightly looking down from your chest, his eyes shot up to meet yours, the blush that was on his cheeks already invading his ears. “N-No. This bath is only for you, Commandant.”

“Pleaseeee,” you dawdled, brushing away the bangs that covered his face, “I want to help you.”

Although hesitant, he lets you anyway; you, crawling to straddle his thighs, reaching out for the shampoo on your right. His eyes were carefully trailing your movement, which made you shrink under his grasp, but you never minded (after all, the both of you are naked in front of each other, what else was the difference?). You mimicked his movements: massaging the scalp, entirely focused on how you moved your hands on him.

“You're so pretty, Chrome...”

“Huh...?”

“I'm drunk but you're still pretty.” you giggled, booping his nose, “in the morning, when I'm sober, I know you'll be prettier.”

You thread your hands into his hair now, forgetting that bubbles should come out, but you're too focused on everything around you, drowsiness coming to catch you.

“Your hair,” you mumbled, aware of his hands placed on your waist, “...it feels really soft.”

“Does it?” He chuckled, eyes closing, “I'm glad you think so, Commandant.”

Commandant. A title you've always worn, but the way he called you that, a gnawing feeling crammed in your chest — with that pretty mouth of his, a stray thought made you think: what would it be like if he were to say your name?

“You never call me by my name.”

Turquoise irises locked with yours. Unable to pull away, mesmerized by the magnitude it beheld as you stared at each other — you wanted to speak, but Chrome beats you to it.

“I- I never thought I'm allowed to say it.” Looking away, the flush you've seen earlier came back and dusted his cheeks, “we never established it before.”

“Call me by my name then, Chrome.”

You wonder how your name would sound when it leaves his lips. You wonder, if the sound of your heartbeat reverberates if speaks, if he calls you in a name hidden behind your title — and for a moment, you've realized.

“[Y/N],” it is quiet, a soft tone calling for your name, “[Y/N],”

All you could do is close your eyes. Your mind is racing. The sound of two people, breathing in the silence, in the warmth of another's presence. The bubbles are now dissolving in your fingers and in his hair, you're certain the ones on your head are gone too. Were you still drunk, or had the intensity of your feelings reached its threshold? It made your mind spin, and your fingers tremble. What was going on?

“Did that sound weird?” You opened your eyes to find Chrome's worried gaze. Still realizing the situation you're both in - and yet you were both comfortable now - you opened your mouth, only to close it.

You realized you've always liked Chrome all this time.

And the way he said your name is far from what you've imagined. You breathe in once more at his appearance: disheveled hair coated in shampoo, flushed cheeks in contrast to his pale complexion, doe-eyed in the shade of the light. Of course, you had to fall for this man. And it made your heart ache - alcohol or the touches alone? Who knows.

“No.” You quietly spoke, looking away, hiding the blush on your cheeks, “I...want to get out now.”

Chrome doesn't say a word. Instead, he stood up and left you there - confused, in a daze. When he comes back, a pair of clothes were on his arms.

“Can you stand, co...I mean, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for the clothes.”

You spoke by the time you re-entered his room, the oversized shirt hanging loosely on your body. You looked at your appearance in the mirror twice before leaving the room, where you'd deemed it was good enough, however; judging by the way Chrome was staring at you intensely, head to toe, you couldn't help but wonder - is something wrong?

Chrome must have changed the sheets first, the shade of blue occupying the space on the bed. He now stood behind a smaller stool, a hair dryer in hand. You awkwardly stood, gesturing to the sight behind you: “I promise I'll repay you back when I get back.”

“The shirt,” He looks away for a moment, before clearing his throat, “it looks...good on you.”

You looked down — the oversized white shirt with the print fading away reaching down your thighs, just above your knees. At least, you were wearing something to combat the cold, yet your back catches the wetness of your hair, which made your temperature drop further. Noticing this, Chrome motions you to sit on the stool.

You are compliant with his wishes. He starts to turn the hair dryer on, before carefully handling your hair. In front of you was a tall mirror, which must have been Chrome's height. As he gently starts to dry your hair, you take in your surroundings - it's your first time in Chrome's room. As they say, the bedroom reflects its owner; tidy, neat, and everything in place. Various books with small print on the spine you couldn't make out on the shelves, the Queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. A perfectly neat study table with a few papers here and there near the dresser of the bed. It brings you to shame, how cleanly Chrome sets up his room which is far different from yours.

It reflects; your senses in a daze as you feel Chrome weaving through your locks, attentive to how his turquoise irises are on his masterpiece. Your eyes look up at his face once more.

“You also look good with your hair down.”

His attention flickers back to you. It's true - he looks more human this way, hair framing his face. Blinking slowly, he sheepishly laughs. “Ah, I always have my hair down after a shower. Do I look weird?”

“No.” You admit, “you look handsome still.”

Another wave of silence washes over. You realize you're more sober this way, the guilt of not talking too much gnawing on the back of your throat. But you are thankful, Chrome takes the opportunity.

“You are wearing my shirt that the F.O.S. gave,” humming, he brushes away the hair on your back, heat radiating off on your back, “they gave it shortly after graduation. I took it before father could notice.”

The hair dryer shuts off. He places it on the dresser, eyes still on your now-dried hair. You asked, “does your father not want you wearing these things?”

“He thinks it's useless. After all, medals and honor are the only valuable things the college would give to you.”

“But I see that it seems well-used,” you smell the cologne Chrome uses every day, “like you've always worn it.”

His hand is on your shoulder, tracing the outline. “Shortly after my Construct surgery, I always wore this. Anywhere as long as my father wouldn't see.”

A thought where Chrome wears the shirt comes to mind, in bed, clutching the fabric. Holding a handful and raising it to your nose, you spoke, “is there a reason?”

But he only sighs. “I am a Construct.” He looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, “I am made for war. I threw away my humanity a long time ago.”

Those words tugged a hidden emotion in you. Spinning to meet his figure, you craned your neck just so you can properly look at him. Words are bubbling in your mouth, but it comes out dry.

Yet, you try anyway. “It's true that you're made for war, but you shouldn't be denied of these...”

“It's alright, co...[Y/N].” The call of your name sends your heart into somersaults, “I've learned it the hard way. There is no need for me to feel that way anymore.”

“Besides,” he added, as he got on one knee, smiling, “it's time for you to take a nap. It's past 2 am now. I wouldn't want my Commandant to be sleep deprived, yes?”

“I-” you looked at Chrome, you don't pretend you didn't mishear his words. Looking at his irises, you took a deep breath.

“The first time I saw Chrome,” you began, “I always thought you were attractive.”

That caught his attention. Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, he curiously asked, “I'm sorry?”

“I wondered why a human like me was roaming around the city ruins that day.” You fidgeted with the hem of your clothes, “But then, I saw your inver-device.”

Ah, this memory. Chrome remembers it fondly. In the heat of dispute, where Lee had been injured badly, he doesn't remember if it was the situation at hand or the way the sunlight shone down on you that day - either way, he always thought it was something for that moment.

“It didn't change one bit of my impression of you.” You take a deep breath, “I think...it became something else.”

Your heart beats chaotically. You're sure it's the alcohol, but you're also aware that it's your feelings shaping at this very moment. Your hands tremble with want - to hold Chrome, to hold his hand.

“Something else?”

“I don't see you as a Construct, Chrome,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his chin, eyes trailing where your finger touched, “I see you more than that.”

You're aware; his gaze on you, as his own fingers shake as they touched yours. Such feelings have echoed in your mind, and you are afraid they wouldn't go away unless you tell them upfront. Are you scared to be rejected? Too bad, you're not; let the alcohol drain all your fears tonight.

“I don't want you to keep calling me 'Commandant'. I don't like it when you see me as someone from F.O.S., but I like it when you touch me, or when you're close to me-”

His hand is holding yours now. Firm, gentle. He's in front of you, and you swore you could see the future reflect in his irises. It's warm, the way he grasped your hand, fingertips touching his lips. His eyes are closed - a single kiss on every finger, mouth muttering some kind of prayer.

“[Y/N],” he whispers on your fingers, gazing at you with an expression you've never seen him make before.

Loving. Adoration. Something along those lines. It claws on your stomach, inching up to the top, that if you opened your mouth you would regret.

“When I saw you at that time, I didn't know what to think. I remember thinking: would you only be another soldier I will see on the battlefield, regardless if dead or alive?”

“Am I the former?”

“A part of me thought so. But...”

He pauses, before taking your hand to his chest, a strong vibration echoing there. Your heart feels the same, it wishes to free itself from the cages of your ribcage and into whatever was in the middle of the both of you.

“If I were to lose you, I...wouldn't know what I'll do.”

Heaviness weaves in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, blissfully unaware of the distance left between your lips. “Chrome,”

“[Y/N], I cannot...”

“I like you, Chrome.” It is a genuine confession. You never lied. “I like you too much, that I feel like my heart can't handle it if you disappear on me, too.”

A confession that brought tears to your eyes. “I want to run away with Chrome. I don't want to be away from you.”

“I'm not going away.” He took you by the waist, propping you on his thighs, “I'm here.”

“Meeting you...being here with you...it feels enchanting.” You closed your eyes, blindingly touching wherever your hands meet, “Please don't be in love with someone else...”

Chrome feels like it's the first time for him to recognize the ability to love. The passion for studying, living in the moment where examinations take place, keeping everything orderly — it has always been how he always lived. Yet, for the first time — someone was here in his room, in his touch, in this space. It makes him greedy; it makes him wild.

“[Y/N],” his hands cup your cheek, nuzzling your cheek, “I feel the same way. I like you - I adore you. Every glory I will bring to you, it will be all for you.”

That confession triggered something inside of you - to bridge the gap between the both of you. Leaning forward, the urge to slam your lips to him right there and then grows fervently. However, a hand stops your advances. Pulling back, you are met with a blushing Chrome, looking at you in awe.

“Comman- I mean, [Y/N], as much as I want to kiss you...I cannot. I can't kiss you when you are still drunk.”

“But I want to, let me show you how much I like you.”

His hand easily slips under your shirt, warm ones grasping your hips, rubbing circles around it, “In the morning. When you are sober, when you are about to make better judgement. I will let you do whatever you want.”

A mischievous smile graced your lips. “Anything?”

The blush on his face became a darker shade. Shyly nodding, “Yes, anything.”

He eases into his arms. Lifting you up and carrying you to bed, a thought crosses your mind — you, in a long white gown, and him, in a silver tuxedo. You see him in the lights of the room, illuminated in this dark evening, his smile sending ripples of your heart into motion. You see him this way, your hand carrying a bouquet of flowers that you both love, your fingers intertwined with a ring of promise. In your thoughts he carries you like this, and you swore it felt familiar; one day, you wish. You would have to tell him in the morning.

But for now, the alcohol hits you harder more than ever, drowsiness threatening to shut your eyes. As you felt yourself dip into the mattress - his bed - you wish you could stay with him, the lingering warmth on your skin now fading as you feel him pull away. But your mouth is a jumbled mess, only opting for the fatigue to succumb to you. So, you use your hand, grasping whatever you could reach - his shirt, his hand, his arm.

“Don't go.” You beg, voice laced with grogginess and want, “won't you stay here?”

“I will be sitting here next to you. Don't worry, I'm not going away.”

“No,” your voice sounds like you're pleading now, “don't go, stay beside me. I want you to be beside me when I wake up.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Stay with me, Chrome.”

With a sigh, you feel the space beside you dip. The shuffling of sheets, the smell of lavender invading your weary senses. At last, warm hands enclose yours, before placing them close to his lips, one last kiss before darkness consumed your senses.

“Goodnight, [Y/N],” you knew he'd tell you that, “I will see you in the morning.”

Chrome doesn't see you in the morning.

When sunlight slipped through the windows, he woke up to an empty space beside him. Disappointment comes knocking on his door, calling out that he was only dreaming for something unreal, something that only humans would indulge in. Although the sheets prove that someone else was here with him last night, he doesn't dwell on that slipping hope. Instead, disappointment and frustration, paired with despondency, makes a home inside his chest and his M.I.N.D.

No longer interested in ruminating on the mattress, he drags himself out of bed. However, the robots that usually greet him aren't around still. But the floors and the walls on the rooms he passed are cleaner than what he saw last night.

Probably elsewhere. Probably at the garden.

But the glass door to the garden shows no signs of robots, at least where his sight can reach. No robots cutting grass or cleaning the pool. At times like these, they should've been around. Where were they?

A sound of an R5 cleaning robot chimes in nearby. Chrome follows the sound, and the sight isn't something he was expecting.

“You did well,” your voice feels like a cloud, floating amongst the sea of beeping robots, “thank you for your help.”

Your back faces Chrome. Crouching in front of a faceless R5 cleaning robot, you gently patted its "head", small giggles on your lips.

“You're a good robot, aren't you,” the sound of beeping seemingly mirroring an appreciative noise, “you're a very good robot.”

A sizzle comes out of the oven, to which you jump to your feet, scrambling to reach the stove. “Ah, it's getting burned!”

Chrome couldn't help but admire you; the way you move, your interactions with the robots although lifeless, and your cautiousness seemed to boost his adoration for you. It must have been his M.I.N.D., but the sunlight on your toes, his shirt that fits you perfectly despite being too big for you, and the smile as you tasted whatever you were cooking — it hits him harder. The want, the like, the adoration for someone he could never think he'd fall for. The feeling that his chest had earlier disappeared; only warmth began to repair its fractured roots.

“Chrome?” Your quiet voice called out, the beep of the robot chiming in, “you're awake.”

“And you're here.”

Is this what pining feels like? An unspoken feeling that settles deep between the distances of the two of you. He knows he shouldn't hope, when a night drowned in alcohol remembers nothing. Yet, the way your eyes seem to tell him something, he hopes to cling onto whatever was left in his pride.

“Good morning,” he spoke, aware of his morning voice now, “I apologize that you had to be the one to cook.”

“N-no, it's alright! The robots mostly did the work. I merely supported them.”

“Still,” he slowly approached you, timid footsteps leading to you, “the fact that you treat them as if they're human too speaks a lot.”

“It's even a surprise that they show no hostility to you. They are trained to fend off those who are unfamiliar in the household.”

“Commandant [Y/N] is welcomed.” the robot from earlier chirped, “helped us with housework.”

“Mr. Smith also invited me here once in a while to talk about politics.” You shrugged, opting to pat the robot once more, “I just did a favor for them.”

You nodded to it, to which it purrs in your touch. Satisfied, it happily trots away, probably deciding to work elsewhere.

Another silence. You've decided to go back and finish cooking the food, but the fire had long been doused (probably from the advancement of this stove?). Chrome wants to talk, yet no words could be formulated in his head. After the agonizing long silence, you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“I remember what happened last night.”

Chrome freezes. He looks up to meet your guilty eyes looking elsewhere. “You do?”

“I...am regretful that I puked on you. That's why I decided to clean up here as an exchange.”

Ah, so you don't remember what happened afterwards. Chrome's heart sinks, before noticing you looking away, and a creeping blush on your cheeks.

“I...also remember that I asked you to take a bath with me.”

Memories of last night came crashing over his M.I.N.D. The garden, the bed, the bathtub, the hair dryer, and your skin — all a mixture of things that only makes him go haywire. His blush mirrors yours; that means one more thing.

“I also remember telling you how I feel.” You began, “and I...”

The sinker comes. And Chrome's heartbeat isn't sure now. But you - you approached him, eyes down, figure covered, but reaching out to him. With shallow breaths, you raised your hand to his chest, before looking up. And there - your eyes meet his. Same innocent, shimmering eyes looking at him with vigor, with enchantment; he forgets how to breathe.

“I like you, Chrome.”

You've said it once more. Sober, genuine, and true. And it breaks Chrome's heart into pieces, folded and mashed into dough, before it forms in the shape of a heart. You've set the oven now; his feelings are ready to be baked, ready to be eaten - and he wants you. No, he needs you to be the one to take it.

“I still like you, even when I'm drunk or sober. I want to be with you all the time. I want you, Chrome. I want you to be part of the future that I am building.”

Wordlessly, he captures your hips and pulls you close, him leaning down just so the proximity knows no bounds. He feels your breath ghost his lips, your heartbeat in his ribcage - it beats, and beats, and beats so loudly he forgets you're in the kitchen at daylight; in a house he's grown up with no love, but he's here now. Creating a love that no Smith can forge.

“A concrete object made of materials and information, whose borders are continuously constructed and reconstructed,” said the definition for 'Smith'. He could live in that definition forever, but what about Chrome?

“I am forging a new one.” He whispers, “I am...bridging the new future with you.”

Your eyes are shining, and there he knew-

“I like you, too, [Y/N].”

If only bodies were capable of seeing what's happening underneath, a cadenza ringing in Chrome's heart, beating furiously for you, only you. You smiled, a mischievous gaze written across your face.

“Does the offer about me doing anything I want when I'm sober still stand?”

He smiles back. “Of course.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Tiptoeing to reach Chrome's height, you craned your neck and tugged his shoulder. But Chrome is kind; he hoists you up by the hips, capturing your lips in an instant.

Sweet is a word to describe the first kiss Chrome shared with someone in his life. Forget the war, forget that you're on the kitchen island; it's only two lovers baring their adoration for one another, sharing a kiss blessed in daylight. It's warm, it's soft, it's needy - the way you both melt into each other, how you wrapped your arms around his neck, or how his hands are holding you up. Enchanted, Chrome's M.I.N.D. echoes, it's really enchanting.

Satiated, you both pull away, breathless, as your foreheads touch. He doesn't let you go, though. You (unfortunately) do, when the other kitchen door opens, a parade of little robots bursting through the door.

You cheer as the little robots go through the surprise: a small banner written "Happy Birthday!" hastily, and the cake you baked earlier with the robots. Chrome looks at you confused, before noticing what the parade had brought.

“How-”

“Happy birthday, Chrome,” You beamed, hands cupping his cheeks, “you deserve the celebration.”

“Thank you.” He whispers on your chin, leaving little kisses there, “I really appreciate this...I appreciate you.”

“You should enjoy today.” You winked, “my birthday present to you is for later.”

“Later?”

You squeezed his arm. He blushes. “Yes, later.”

Chrome is thankful his heart doesn't need to somersault out of his chest now. At least, until later.

HAPPY LATE ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!!!!! please like, reblog, share, comment down on this post! don't copy and plagiarize my work!!

[diagonal-queen]

hey girlyyyy ❗❗❗ why do i feel like im bothering you when its quite literally just a request box🧍

but anyway !!! Following with the previous request of meeting with chuuya after years. Can i ask for like, a glimpse of their relationship? Like they're keeping it a secret from both their agencies so they have to be sneaky to meet each other like silly little lovers💗🤞😭😭

sakjhjkhfahfsh oh my god nahhh the sillies 🙈 you are never bothering me by sending me an ask. i am a pathetic and lonely creacher and i kick my silly little legs and let out my horrendus little giggles whenever someone sends me an ask. i am elated every time.

Star-Crossed

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: Romeo and Juliet, but you and Chuuya aren't as fucking stupid as those kids were. (sorry, I'm just having a goof- you and Chuuya are navigating secretly dating while being members of opposing groups)

♡ wc: 1.6k

♡ cw: Reader and Chuuya flirt and talk about sex (they're a couple guys. C'mon now), swearing.

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYA!! Good timing for me to finish this one hey? lol I hope you enjoy it! Apologies for errors- maybe I should write a Chuuya birthday thing?

Part 1 (you don't have to read it but it provides context for this)

Chuuya had gotten there before you. He was sitting on a bench across the footpath from the restaurant, absentmindedly on his phone. It was no fancy place, one may say casual or even rustic. But once, a long time ago as teenagers, Chuuya had taken you there one evening when you were feeling down and you'd enjoyed yourself enough to decide that it would be a good place to go back to. Maybe get the same meals as that time, and recreate some cherished memories.

You stood around the corner of the block, making sure that there weren't too many witnesses around. You'd gone through a world of effort to conceal your relationship with the mafioso. You'd changed his contact name, turned off your notifications and even made sure to eradicate all traces that you two spent time together, which hurt the most of all. You felt that just a simple picture of the two of you wasn't asking too much.

The two of you seldom contacted one another during work hours. Considering the Agency tended to work within the daytime while the Port Mafia took over the night, you didn't have much time to communicate with one another, much less meet up in person. When you did, you both had to be cautious that none of your coworkers were around. It had gotten exhausting rather quickly, but the two of you continued to try nonetheless.

Weekends were really the only days that you could sometimes see one another. That's why, on an overcast Sunday, you and Chuuya had decided to go on a lunch date together. You were mostly sure that you wouldn't be bumping into any other Agency members, and yet you scurried along the street like a cautious mouse.

You called his name, and when he turned and saw you he smiled.

"How are you?" You asked him as you approached. He stood up and pulled you into his embrace once you reached him.

"I'm glad to see you, baby."

"You ought to be! It took so much effort to get here without rousing suspicion," you whined, pulling away and squeezing his shoulders. Chuuya cocked an eyebrow at you.

"Huh? Have you told them anything?"

"They're detectives, Chuu!" you responded, giving him a nudge. "It's hard to keep a secret when you're surrounded by detectives all the time. I'm pretty sure Ranpo knows already- or at least he's caught on to the fact that I'm seeing someone."

"...who?"

"Y'know, the one with the hat and cape...he trapped you in a book once?" Chuuya pursed his lips and nodded. "He's a genius."

"I know," he sighed. "At least Dazai doesn't know...probably."

"Nah, he doesn't," you confirmed, "If he did, he'd have brought it up with me by now. And I dunno how I'm gonna approach that conversation at all."

"Just give me a call when it happens. I'll beat the shit out of him," he muttered, sourly. You giggled, pulling him back into your arms.

"I can always count on you, can't I?"

"'Course you can, babe," he pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Sorry you gotta go through all that, by the way."

"I can't imagine it's much easier in the Port Mafia? Y'know, to be dating an Agency member."

"Eh, it's not so bad when you're an executive." He shrugged with a sigh. You cast him a mischievous grin.

"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you're all authoritative and strong like that," you teased. Chuuya blinked, before he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Forgetting? Maybe I should jog your memory." You narrowed your eyes at his suggestive tone.

"Oh? How so?" You smirked. Chuuya tapped his lips.

"Hm...got any more kinks I don't know about?"

"Keep it in your fuckin' pants, Chuu!" You laughed, swatting his arm. "Imagine if there were children here."

"If you keep encouraging me there might well be," he retorted, and you gasped.

"You're a goddamn menace." Chuuya chuckled at your blunt statement. "Ah...anyway, we should go inside. We'd be less conspicuous that way, and we've been loitering around here long enough as is."

He nodded, and you both went inside. After entering the door Chuuya opened for you, the scent of the place filled your nostrils and it was like you'd visited for the first time. You stood in the entranceway for a moment, a small smile formed on your lips.

"Something wrong?" Chuuya asked, passing you and shutting the door. You shook your head.

"No, nothing's wrong," you quickly replied before taking a step forward. "It's just...been a while."

"...it has, yeah," Chuuya agreed, placing his hand on your back. "Glad to be back here."

~ ~ ~

Fifteen minutes flies by so fast when you're enjoying your time. Fifteen minutes with Chuuya felt more like fifteen seconds. You'd ordered your food, caught up on each others' recounts of the past week, Chuuya made an obligatory complaint about Dazai, and then Chuuya's phone rang twice.

The first time he'd just ignored it, and you'd tried to do the same, but the second time he let out an aggravated breath and pulled it out of his pocket, eyes briefly flickering towards the screen which you didn't have the time to get a good peek at. Chuuya glanced at you, both apparently frustrated and apologetic.

"Sorry, hon. I have to take this one, but I'll make it quick, alright?"

"It's okay, don't worry about it." You smiled as you said this, but your facade dropped once he disappeared to take the call. You didn't blame Chuuya for being busy, but lamented the fact that the two of you couldn't seem to spend any amount of time together uninterrupted. It was almost as if everybody really did know about your relationship and were doing all they could to keep it apart.

He was back before long, taking his seat across from you at the table and letting out an exhale.

"Did something bad happen?"

"Nah, just got into a bit of an altercation. Managed to sort it out though, so it's fine. Nothing to worry about." Chuuya placed his hand atop yours. "Where were we?"

"...I think you were bitching again. About Dazai?" You replied, balancing your hand on your palm with a grin.

"'Again'?"

"Yep. It's your favourite thing to do, right?"

"Besides you..." he mused, and you bit back a laugh. "I'd say so. But I can't help it. You know that best, don'tcha?"

"He's still lazy at the Agency. In fact, he's probably gotten worse. Sometimes I have to physically force him to come with me when we have jobs together," you rolled your eyes. "That being said though, he can be so overbearing sometimes, fuck's sake."

"Eh, if I were him I'd be protective of you too. Maybe the single thing I can't blame him for, actually," Chuuya scowled, taking a sip of water. "Wish I could spend as much time with you as he does, though. That might be nice..."

As you acknowledged that sentiment, an idea popped into your head. You suddenly sat upright.

"You and I should go on a trip. A road trip, or a vacation or something like that."

"A trip?" He repeated, confused.

"Mm. We wouldn't have to worry about anybody seeing us, and we'd be able to relax and actually spend time together," you explained. "We could even just...go camping or something. That's not that expensive, right? We'd have to travel pretty far, though..."

"I'd be willing to go anywhere as long as you're there," Chuuya shrugged. You turned to him, before smiling.

"That's adorable of you, sweetie."

"Money wouldn't be an issue. It's the time I'm worried about, and how we'd both be able to leave at the same time without suspicion," he continued.

"I just called you adorable and you're gonna go ahead and ignore me?" You scowled, folding your arms over your chest. "I see how it is."

"Aw, sorry babe. I didn't mean for it to come across like that," he apologised, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckle. "I'm just concerned, that's all."

"I know, I get it..." you gave him a sad smile. "I wish we didn't have to be like this. I get so jealous when I see couples together out and about. I want that to be us!"

"Maybe one day. Just...not today though. Neither of us can afford it right now, y'know?" He murmured. "I would want absolutely everybody around me to know that you're my partner. If it wouldn't put you in danger, I mean."

"You're that proud of me, huh?" You queried, rubbing your thumb over Chuuya's gloved hand. He looked at you as if that were a stupid question.

"'Course I am. I can't really show it now, but I promise I am," he answered sincerely, staring into your eyes. "Okay?"

"...I'll choose to believe you for now," you replied, sarcastically. "But one day you better prove it in the most dramatic and flamboyant way possible, got it?"

Chuuya smiled. "I'd give you the whole world if you asked for it, Y/N."

"Oh, maybe that's a little too dramatic," you hastily replied. "...maybe we should just stick to dinner dates for now, m'kay?"

"Whatever you'd like, baby. I'll just save the world for another time."

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fedyushka, @flower-of-darkness

and thank you @bibilovedit for the request!

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Yearning PART 2 || Phillip Graves x Reader

(Yes I'm reusing gifs WHY NOT)

Word count : 1.5k I got lazy sorry ✋

Summary : It's your birthday barbecue and your dad invited the whole neighbourhood, Graves included. Tension is thick (hopefully)

Warnings : I left it on a cliffhanger IM SORRY 😞

inspired by @rors-grvs diet mountain dew fanfic! I recommend checking it out :)

Taglist - @sarahs-secrets2, @mentallynot-here

After note : IF EVERYONE IS IN AGREEMENT THAT WE WANT A PART 3 THEN MAYBE MAYBE 🤷 IM JUST SAYING

✮

You hadn't expected the whole neighborhood to attend your birthday party. If you had it your way, it would just be a couple of friends and family - however, your dad may have gotten carried away.

"Sorry, I just thought it would be a nice surprise for you.", he explained to you on the front porch, while music could be heard from the yard.

"It's fine, can I have a moment please? I'll be there in a second." you responded, shooting him a small smile but immediately dropping it as he left. The whole neighbourhood? God, how would you even survive the party?

It wasn't that you necessarily hated the effort, it was just quite.. Surprising, as your dad had worded it.

Taking a breath and stepping inside the house, you were immediately swarmed with people crowding every inch of the place - it took you a painstakingly long time to reach the backyard.

As soon as you reached outside, the smell of charcoal and cooked meat was something you were unable to ignore - making you look in the direction it was coming from.

Phillip.

No. No way.

He was standing by the grill, a skewer in his hand as he laughed and socialised with anyone passing by to probably compliment the batch he was whipping up. He was clearly soaking in all that adoration, his smile clear as day from your point of view.

Should you approach him? It wouldn't be anything weird, just saying hi.

Maybe not, maybe you should ignore him-

Before you could continue arguing with yourself, it seemed your legs grew a mind of its own and carried you across the grass towards him. He caught sight of you and you could almost see the way his smile changed subtly in that moment.

"Y/N, happy birthday.", he grinned, turning to the table behind himself to place down the freshly prepared burgers.

"Thanks." you paused, before adding hastily, "Did.. Did you know my dad would do this?" your voice lowered to a whisper.

Phillip leaned in slightly to hear you better and shook his head, chuckling, "No, I wish though. He surprised me too."

"Oh."

"Why?"

He was facing away from you once again, raising his voice so you could hear him over the crowd. You tried to keep it discreet, but in all honesty, you didn't understand why you were forcing your voice to lower with each passing second.

"Well, you know, I just- I just didn't realise it would be-"

"The whole neighbourhood? I figured. I came in to set up and he just didn't say anything about it.", he was now resting his hands against the table opposite you, titling his head slightly.

"Yeah, It's fine though. I don't mind."

"Fine by me. You want something to eat?"

That caught you off guard - now making you realise what he was wearing. A flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, an apron then tied over it with the bold letters 'kiss the cook' stamped onto the front. It was no doubt it was probably a secret santa gift from one of the local women in the area, as he was known to be one of the most attractive men in the neighbourhood. You didn't want to think where your dad was on that list.

"Uhm, alright, just put me a little of everything.", you were trying to tear your gaze away from his apron - but he saw and raised a brow.

"Like the apron?"

"It's... Interesting."

"It's prompted quite a few of the guests to follow the instructions." he handed you a plate, which made you notice the rubbed off lipstick on his cheek. It was close to the scar on his cheekbone, now making you analyse his face for a little too long before snapping out of it and blurting out a response.

"Ah Ms-"

"Yeah, she felt lucky I guess."

He sighed, before shooting you a smirk, "Well, you eat up so you can enjoy your special day on a full stomach. I got you a little something too, I hope you'll like it."

"Ah, you didn't have to-" you began, but shut your mouth as you caught the glance he threw your way. It's no problem, darling. That's what you knew he would've said, or whispered, possibly leaning close so you could hear him, thick arms caging you against the table behind-

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" an auntie approached you, her beads and bangles making sound as she beamed and kisses your cheek.

"Oh, thank you, auntie!" you hadn't expected her, or anyone for that matter, to come over to you.

She encased you in a hug, yammering on about how special birthdays were - but you were only focused on Phillip, who'd turned back to what he was doing previously.

✮

Over an hour had passed; the air was humid and you'd moved into the house after nonstop talking to guests and celebrating.

Some had left, but your family and Graves had stayed behind to eat cake and watch you open your presents. It was like you were a kid again - only a little bit humiliating in front of Graves.

You decided just to not focus on that and enjoy your birthday, it's your day after all.

You were tearing open your presents, saying 'thank you' and hugging your family when you got to Phillip's gift.

It was relatively small, but there was a card that came with it.

Tentatively you took the tape off and opened up the wrapping for the item to drop into your hand.

Lipstick.

"Ah, I think I forgot the other gift at home. Sorry." he added with a bashful chuckle, seeing your face light up at the present.

"It's.. It's really nice, thank you Mr Graves." you smiled at him, turning it over in your hands. The exact shade you've always wanted to try, it was a pricy brand too.

You placed the card at your side; you were tempted to read it now but wanted to keep it aside.

Your dad now got up, "It was fun while it lasted everybody, but I've got work tomorrow and she's got to revel in all her mice gifts now."

Slowly but surely, everyone was now leaving and cuddling you before walking out the door.

Everybody except Graves.

"John, let me help you clear up. I'm not busy."

"Ah, I don't want to do that you to man-"

"Nonsense! Now that I've started my spring cleaning, it seems I've got a knack for it." his gaze lingered on you as he spoke.

"Alright, just don't do everything or else I'll feel bad. I've got to sort out the garage. I'll be back, sweetie!" he called out as he withdrew his keys from his pocket and you heard the door shut.

You were still seated in the living room, now reaching for Phillip's card before he could come back in.

Happy birthday, gorgeous.

I hope you like the gifts

xxxx,

Phillip

Just as you finished reading it, he had entered the living room and was now leaning on the door frame.

You turn and your eyes meet.

"I guess it's just the two of us, huh?" he may have been smiling, but you caught the way his breath hitched once he realised it was the first time the both of you were alone today.

Phillip came closer, standing by the couch and looking down at you with a smirk. You could feel his eyes now scanning your body, noticing how you got all dolled up today for the occasion.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Sorry- gorgeous? That's corny." you chuckled, getting up next to him.

"I meant it though." he replies, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

"Oh.." you smiled, looking away.

"Oh, okay, let me try the lipstick." you lean over and pick it up from the couch, opening it hastily and glancing around for a mirror.

"It's fine, I'll do without." you muttered, now opening it, swivelling the lid and revealing the lipstick.

Your hands were unsteady as you gingerly held it up to your lips, concentrating on where to apply. Slowly, you covered your bottom lip and pressed your lips together.

"Does it look okay?", you pouted at Phillip, before shooting him a grin.

"It's cute, the perfect colour." he was oddly quiet, his gaze focused on the rouge. He swallowed hard.

Oh my God.

He wanted to kiss you.

You wanted to kiss him.

You were both silent apart from the sound of your breathing filling the living room. Standing only inches apart from one another, he couldn't stop looking.

You bit your lip, resting your hands on his shoulders smoothly. Now that you were both so close, the scent of his cologne filled your lungs. It was addictive. Playing with his flannel collar, you broke the silence.

"Phillip?", you whispered.

"Yup?"

You crashed your lips onto his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him.

Phillip was slow to react, but soon enough he hoisted you up, allowing your legs to wrap around his torso as he pulled away for air.

Maybe it was the intoxicating cologne, or possibly just the fact that this dress was getting way too tight. But you were getting desperate.

"Where's.. Where's your room?", he mustered breathlessly, breathing hard between each word.

He was an absolute mess. His hair had been ruffled from the sudden movement and now was falling over his eyes. His lips were.. God, they were stained with your lipstick.

"Upstairs. Second door."

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

guys I’m so sorry to divert from the usual scheduled programming but I need opinions bc this is driving me insane.

so i fell in love with my best friend at 16. and i never told her until i was 18 but i know she definitely liked me back. for a little bit of context - im bi/ace and my family don’t know but my friends do and the same for her (as far as I know) but her family is also deeply religious. they have the expectation that she’ll stay home until she marries a man. and my family is way more relaxed then that.

so when i told her, i was scared she only liked me because she thought she could fix me - i couldn’t handle her thinking of me like a project or to be something for her fantasise over. i made it clear that i liked her but i needed to know where she stood on the matter before either of us could reach a solution.

we don’t talk for a while after that and i reach out and say that I’d like to reconcile before i move 400 miles away for university. i invite her for a picnic, she says yes but cancels last minute because she’s unwell. she invites me to go to a museum but i declined the invitation. i couldn’t see her without knowing how she felt about me.

I move away and reach out one last time. we talk but it eventually fades off. she wishes me happy birthday first every year. at midnight she sends the message and has every year since we were 14. we only really talk quite briefly on each others birthdays for the three years.

now, I’ve moved back home. she’s still here because she lived at home while going to uni. we’ve started talking again since i wished her a happy birthday so it’s been a couple weeks.

to be honest i don’t know how to navigate talking to her again because a) the feelings are still there for me - she’s the only person I’ve ever loved and b) we never got to a resolution. i don’t know how she feels and im tired of her being cryptic. i feel like i just want to ask her “could we ever work and should we try?” but im either scared she’ll run away again or she’ll say no. and i know that ‘no’ is most likely at the expense of her own happiness.

so any advice pls. i actually cannot work this out.

[vanillaxoshi]

Ok the convo between Cahaya and Tok just had me crying….Ik Cahaya accepts the circle of life and death but uk it still hurts

Hey just a request can you actually tell the scenario when the brothers arrive and they see all the arrangement and a cutely sleeping Cahaya, atleast their thoughts and how overwhelmed they would be when Tok tells them that he had worked hard for their birthday and slept being tired!

It would be so cute and sweet!!!

Context

Note: this is before they went to databot

8:00 in the morning

eyes slowly open, he wonders, why is he in his room? wasnt he downstairs? when is today? he firstly took his glasses which also happens to be at the desk beside him, he sat up

he finally checked the time on his phone and realized

yesterday was their birthday. they didnt arrive that time.

all he could do was sigh and look blankly at his phone. he wonders if they're here now, if not maybe he should check up on them with the watch, if it could even reach them. He doesnt see Api, Air, nor Daun in their beds, he wouldve noticed immediately, they share the same room after all

he stood up and decide to check Petir, Tanah and Angin's room

they weren't there either.

well that checks out, they're not here-

He faces Daun, just as he was about to go down stairs

"Daun?" he spoke out with mild disbelief "i was just about to wake you up" Daun says smiling

Cahaya furrowed his eyebrows a bit, confused but relieved, all of a sudden Daun hugged him

"Thanks for preparing that huge feast for us, and dont worry we havent ate a single bite! we were waiting for you!" Daun told him, letting go of the hug he tackled him with

"you were waiting for us after all, its only right we wait for you to eat all together!!" Ruffling his hair, Daun chuckles

"Thanks little brother" He says with a warm smile

"dont call me that." Cahaya softly says

Daun chuckles again, pulling Cahaya downstairs

As Cahaya finally regained his footing from being pulled down to the kitchen, He sees his brothers prepping up the table, the cake in the middle has had the Candles rearranged, the plates and food lined up.

he was then, greeted with more bearhugs, this time from Api, Angin and Tanah. "HEY STOP IM BEINGSQUISHED HERE!!"

"Haha sorry, thats just a big thank you for all of this" Angin laughed

"aww you still have your heart despite all that darkness in it" Api teased

"sorry we didnt come earlier and celebrated on our actual birthdate, but we'll make up for it right now, wha'd you say we blow the candles now?" Tanah calmly spoke out

"i got the camera ready!!" Ochobot cheered out

"I've got the lighter" tok Aba said as he came in the room

"OH! Atok let me do it!!" Api exclaims point ing at himself while approaching the old man, but before Atok could reply tanah had already grabbed Api by his shirt and pulled the flailing Api away

Cahaya let out a snort watching the entire scenario

he was called by Daun to sit down by the cake, he smiled brightly running up to him.

the candles are lit each by color, as every year, the way they blew their candles are one by one

"one!" Petir shouted before blowing his yellow Candle

"two!" Angin shouted before blowing his purple Candle

"three!" Tanah shouted before blowing his brown Candle

"four!" Api shouted before blowing his red Candle

"Five!" Air shouted before blowing his blue Candle

"six!" Daun shouted before blowing his green Candle

"seven!" Cahaya shouted before blowing his white Candle

After that they shout altogether"HAPPY BIRTHDAY" before they would start eating.

Cahaya smiled brightly, he enjoys everything about this. It lofted his entire spirit from yesterday

It might not be their actual birthdate but, theyre here, as long as theyre here. Hes fine.

.

.

.

"We havent really spending that much time with you lately." Petir spoke up walking towards the glasses wearing boy

"you think?" replied Cahaya

"sorry" Cahaya was caught off guard by that reply, usually, Petir would be mad by his snarky remarks or tone

"we'll make it up to you, i heard there would be a mission we would be involved in. After some thinking, and talking with tanah, We'll let you be involved in missions, physically." Petir spoke in such a soft spoken way, when he looked at Cahaya, he saw what he expected, what he wont admit he missed,

A big bright smile and glowing eyes that reminded him of the boy who would always love to share everything with them

"Really??" Cahaya says in full ecstasy

Petir nodded, Cahaya immediately hugged Petir, Petir could only so return it back. "I promise you." Petir says

As they let go, Petir kept the conversation going "since your the 'informant' of tapops or smth... Can you tell me something about tapops? Spill their dark secrets to me." He knugged the boy with his elbow as he continues to kid around

"sorry, Even to family members thats classified!" Cahaya teased as he ate his cake

"oh really, shame." Petir chuckled as he replied

"what about space?"

"really?"

"go ahead"

"Well, did you know space is above or below negative 400 Fahrenheit?"

"that's cold"

"according to some information Tapops had recorded, some froze almost immediately just by stepping out to space unprotected"

"mhm"

"well by our earth recordings, it is negative 400 degrees Fahrenheit, but i think the tempeture is written differently in a book from Tapops, i dont know what it is so i guess i'll have to research more about it"

The conversation went out long, through all of Cahaya's ramblings, Petir never once looked bored, infact he stops Cahaya time to time by asking questions, and Cahaya would happily answer them

The conversation would only fully stop once Atok called the brothers in to create a video to send to their father

"HI ABA!!!"

"We turned 15 yesterday!!!"

"we were late and a bunch but Cahaya fixed up something for all of us!!"

"wish your here aba!!"

They continued for the next hour or so talking about anything to the video, sadly the video had reached its limit and they had to stop. The rest of the day was calm relaxation few events, like kokotiam coming in with presents and the septuplets opening them up with little banters and teasing

They all decided to sleep together in the living room that night, they slept peacefully

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 169. brb x oc

a/n: had a bit of a weird day...but, you know, im glad you are still here <3 (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!! <3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fLUFF because i need to mentally prepare yall.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

116/117/118/119/120/121/122/123/124/125/126/127/128/129/130/131/132/133/134/135/136/137/138/139/140/141/142/143/144/145/146/147

/148/149/150/151/152/153/154/155/156/157/158/159/160/161/162/163/164/165/166/167/168

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

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-

She does cry after the call is finished, but she’s happy. She’s happy and she’s smiling with her eyes hurting just the tiniest bit because of crying, but she was okay and so was he. He did look a bit tired, the bags under his eyes were more prominent than normal, but he still looked absolutely breathtaking.

It was like he was the most beautiful sculpture she’s ever seen.

However, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to show up dressed up like that, the way he looked at her was like he was eating her up with his eyes. Beatrice chews her lower lip as she recalls every single flick of his eyes down her body, the way his mouth sometimes parted and no words came out and how he just looked smitten. He was smitten and she knew he wanted to see her like that in person.

“Aaa!”

Nicole’s sudden vocalization snaps her out of it, looking down to her little girl who was staring right back with those big bright green eyes, chewing her hand, ‘Oh!Sorry Nikki, you need to eat.” she coos, kissing her daughter’s cheek before getting up. She didn’t know if Nikki…understood the situation, but she didn’t cry this time when the call ended. She doesn’t know if her brain already connected the dots on how the laptop dada isn’t the real dada.

She should ask her doctors about that.

But at least she was okay, with her pigtails and her cute cheeks. Beatrice looks down at Nicole’s legs and she pauses for a second, because her feet were now almost reaching her hip bones, “...you are really growing up fast.” of course that the obvious need for new clothes showed that yes, she was stretching up but that was the first time she actually noticed for real.

Nicole gurgled, kicking the said legs happily and completely unaware of her mother’s inner turmoil “Aaa! Mama!’ followed by a gentle slap to the cheek. Beatrice sputters, pulling Nicole’s hand away and laughing as she meets her light green eyes, holding her small fingers with her hand and letting her brows furrow.

She’s going to be so big when Rooster comes back. She hopes, truly, that Rooster comes back for his birthday, she hopes that at least he’s able to do that and so they can have something for Nicole as well, she didn’t know…but she hoped. “Come on,Nikki, lets feed you and then get ready to buy some stuff for aunt Ev,hm?”

“Aaa!”

“Yeah!I’m excited too!” she walks around Jack, more like steps over the sleeping dog to the kitchen, grabbing Nicole’s things and setting her up on the high chair. Her daughter taps her hands on the tray - Beatrice pauses because it really sounded like she just made a little rhythm, but Nicole is just too young…right?

“Are you musically talented like dada?” Beatrice asks while laughing, opening the container that had cooked vegetables. Nicole loves vegetables and she honestly hopes she stays that way. Beatrice smiles, reminiscing the first time she tried it and Rooster was still at home.

-

Nicole looked at the green paste with her eyes crossed on the spoon, then moved her eyes up to her mother, almost in suspicion, “It’s good,Nikki, look,” and she takes a bite herself - shit that was really good - “See? Yum!!” Nicole does not seem convinced, in fact it looks like she’s raising her brow with clear disinterest, “Oh come on,Nikki, you love carrots. Carrots are a vegetable.” 

“Is she not eating?”

Beatrice turns her head to the door only to see her husband’s shirtless body appear, holding a towel on his neck by its ends. She tries not to follow the happy trail because her job now is more important - even though her eyes do sneak a quick glance - but she nods, “I think she’s just not used to it.” she comments, pouting a bit, “It’s just um, mashed cauliflower with zucchini. My mom used to give me this all the time.”

“I mean,I didn’t eat vegetables when I was growing up either.”

“Yes you did,” she mutters, “Your mother would never do that.”

“I mean, true.” and he shrugs, stepping closer, “But I still hated it. I mean,I was a kid, what kid likes broccoli?” Beatrice moves her gaze away almost guiltily, earning a shocked stare from her husband, “...you did?”

“It is one of my favorite veggies…” she murmurs, “Still is.”

Rooster pursed his lips briefly, only for his mouth to curl into a smile and his lips lean down to kiss the swell of her cheek, “You are cute.” he coos, hugging her from behind, propping his chin on her shoulder so his eyes were on Nicole as well, “I think she’s just…weirded out by it. It is a pretty shade of green.”

“Yeah, but I think Nikki likes reds and yellows…and oranges more than greens.” she comments as she mixes the mashed veggies in the bowl.

Rooster chuckles softly, his arms wrapped around Beatrice, their bodies pressed close together. "Well, we'll just have to find the veggies that Nikki likes. Maybe she takes after mein that regard."

Beatrice smiles, feeling comforted by Rooster's presence. “You mean she’s a bit fussy when it comes to green stuff?” she teases and her husband just pokes her side, making her squirm and avoid his touch for a brief second, only for her to try one more time. 

Beatrice doesn’t see it, but Rooster opens his own mouth in front of Nicole so she, hopefully,mimics him in some way. Nicole blinks at him, flicking her eyes from the mashed veggies to her father, slowly opening her mouth - that made Beatrice squeal happily- and chewing the new concoction. It does take a while for a reaction to happen, but her little smile eases Beatrice’s worries and she leans back against Rooster, “Thank God.’

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she hated it.”

‘Well Mister ‘i could live off of chocolate and be okay with it’, I have to disagree with that.” she looks back at him with her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her husband smirks right back and both of them laugh together, foreheads touching and so much love that would give anyone cavities…because they were so sweet. “But at least she liked it.”

“She did.” he turns back to see Nicole was now reaching for the spoon, “She liked a lot.”

Rooster chuckles, reaching over to take the spoon from Nicole's hand before she makes a mess. "Easy there, birdie," he says, gently guiding her hand away from the bowl. "We'll give you some more in a moment."

Beatrice smiles at the sight, her heart swelling with love for her husband and their daughter. It's these simple, everyday moments that make her feel so grateful for the family they've created together.

As Rooster sets the spoon aside, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to Nicole's forehead. "You're doing great, Nikki," he praises, "You're so smart!"

Nicole giggles in response, her eyes sparkling with joy, tapping her hands on the tray repeatedly, little legs kicking in the air. “Let’s not hold her back, she still needs to finish all of this.” Beatrice says, looking up just in time to see Nicole grab one of Rooster's finger, giving it a playful tug and keeping her hand there. 

Her husband inhales, “...looks like I’m not moving from this spot.”

“Looks like it,” Beatrice laughs, watching Rooster move his arm and body in such a way so Nicole wouldn’t let go of his hand, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he crosses his free arm under the one being grabbed at so he could bring a chair close, dragging to Nicole’s side and sitting down, “There.” he smiles, “Let’s go on with this.”

-

Beatrice sniffles, quickly wiping her eyes and shaking her head, looking back at Nicole just in time to see she was finished already - completely covered in baby food, but happily full. She smiles back at her mother, those tiny teeth reminding Beatrice of tiny pearls in the ocean and her heart hurt again, “You know, your dad.” she begins, wiping Nicole’s face with a napkin, “He’s one of a kind. He’s special like that.”

“Aaa?Dada?”

“Hmhm,dada.” another sniffle, “He’s…just special, you know? He’s great, he’s funny, he’s so sweet it really makes you melt and you are just like him.” she wipes her eyes again, fanning her face as she stands to her feet, “Anyway, let’s get ready for shopping for some stuff,hm? I know aunt Shells is going to come over and join us, isn’t that fun?”

Nicole babbles something, gurgling in response as her mother takes her out of the high chair. Beatrice had to keep herself together, she repeated the same breathing exercises as before, she maintained that her mind was clear and her heart wasn’t heavy.

Rooster was okay and he was coming back home in six months, he was okay. He was okay.

She didn’t know why it was being so hard to do this right now.

As Beatrice gathers herself and focuses on the present moment, she takes a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions.”I’m okay.” 

And she had things to do, so she shouldn’t stall too much. Beatrice carries Nicole to the bathroom to clean her up and get her ready for their outing. She sings a lullaby, which not only makes Nicole giggle and clap her hands but it calms her heart too. At least a little bit.

As she finishes getting Nicole dressed and ready, which honestly just meant changing her diaper and fixing her hair, Beatrice can feel a sense of calm settling over her, well, at least for now. Her heart feels light and heavy at the same time and she had to distract herself or else she was going to lose it. 

She pulls out her phone to send Shells a message, ever since her friend climbed over her fence she was now paying more attention every time she texted or called. The worst scenario would be if she did that again and someone called the cops.

How would Beatrice explain to the cops that her friend wasn’t really dangerous and was just…specific? 

Thankfully, Shells was on her way over.

Beatrice's fingers tap on the screen as she quickly types out a message to Shells:

Bea (11:10)

Hey, Shells! Nikki and I are ready to go shopping. See you soon!

With the message sent, Beatrice sets her phone aside and focuses on preparing for their outing. She gathers the necessary items—diaper bag, wallet, keys—and double-checks that she has everything they'll need at least twice because ever since they had Nicole this was now part of her routine. 

Minutes later, the doorbell rings, and Beatrice rushes to answer it while holding Nicole close to her chest. She snorts when she sees Shells’ face pressed against the glass, nose bent back and nostrils fogging the surface.

When she opens the door,Shells straightens herself and gasps, “Oh my Gosh, look at you.” she props her hands on her hips, giving her friend an appreciative nod, “Damn,girl, where are you going with all that ass? Is Rooster coming home sooner?”

Beatrice’s smile drops for a second and she rubs the dress’ fabric, “Is this too much?”

“Um,no???Babes, you should definitely work that body. If you are happy then what the hell am I to say???” she looks extremely proud however, even tilting her head to have a better look, “You look stunning, you should always look stunning,babes. You are stunning.”

“Thanks Shells…”

“Now,” she grabs the bag from Beatrice’s hand, “Can we go? We need to buy stuff for Evelyn’s baby.”

Beatrice's smile returns, she steps out of the doorway and closes the door behind her, locking it securely. "Absolutely, let's go," she replies, adjusting her hold on Nicole "Oh,damn, the seat–”

“Babes,I got you.” Shells open the back door to show a brand new booster seat, “Ta-da.”

“Oh my God, you bought one?”

Shells leans on the open door with a smirk, “Yes, because you bet I’m going to take the kids out on fun rides every now and again. I mean, you and Rooster need your alone time, don’t you?”

Beatrice blushes but says nothing, just dipping her head in thanks.As they walk towards the car, Beatrice glances down at Nicole, who's happily babbling in her arms. "You ready for a little adventure, Nikki?" she asks, nuzzling her daughter's cheek. Nicole giggles in response, her tiny hand reaching out to touch Beatrice's face before her mother leans down to set her in the seat.

Nicole stills a bit, her head moving around in hopes she can identify whose car is this, she does spend a little while analyzing it, even babbling to herself as if questioning what was going on. 

Once they're all settled in the car,and Nicole is finally okay with the situation, Beatrice latches the seatbelt on and leans back on her seat as Shells turns on the engine.. She's grateful for the distraction of shopping and spending time with Shells. It's a chance to focus on something other than the ache in her heart and the longing for Rooster's presence.

During the drive, Shells keeps looking over at Beatrice, pursing her lips, ‘You good?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” Shells licks her lips, ‘Funny, you don’t look that good. Looks like you cried a bit?”

Beatrice lets out a sigh, knowing she can't hide her emotions from Shells because her best friend knows her too well. The blonde has always been perceptive, and Beatrice appreciates that about her. She glances out the window for a moment, collecting her thoughts before turning to face Shells.

"It's just been a tough day," she admits, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I miss Rooster a lot, you know? Sometimes it hits me harder than others." she pauses, “It’s only been a week.”

Shells reaches over and places her hand on Beatrice's arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I understand, Bea. I’m like that with Bob too." that does make Beatrice give her a weird look, one that Shells scoffs at, “What? Just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.”

“Right…sorry about that.” she feels so bad because she…rarely asks Shells how she feels with Bob’s absence, her friend always appears so happy she just goes along with it, “How are you feeling though? You okay?”

“Sometimes it hits harder than the others.” she repeats Bea’s words, her blue eyes darkening and her smile dropping, “But it’s alright. I can manage it, I can handle it well.” and she leaves it at that. She knows that Shells doesn’t like opening up too much and she won’t prod either.

Beatrice offers a small smile, grateful for Shells' understanding and support. "Thank you, Shells. I appreciate you being there for me. And I hope you know you can count on me as well.”"

Shells nods, her smile returning. "I know that babes. That's what friends are for. And remember, Rooster will be back before you know it. In the meantime, we'll make sure to keep you occupied and have some fun."

Beatrice chuckles, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. Shells always knows how to lighten the mood. "I'm counting on you for that."

As they continue their drive, Shells starts playing some upbeat music, singing along and encouraging Beatrice to join in. Beatrice can't help but let loose a little, her voice mingling with Shells', and even Nicole starts giggling from the backseat.

By the time they arrive at the store, Beatrice feels a bit lighter. Shells' presence and their shared laughter have worked their magic, easing the weight on her shoulders. She's grateful for this moment of relaxation, and she’s so thankful for Shells’ upbeat attitude so much.

Together, they enter the store, their chatter and laughter filling the aisles as they browse through the baby section. Nicole is clearly interested, sometimes grabbing something that her mom hadn’t seen yet, or being distracted by the bright colors and the decor that surrounded them.

Beatrice decides that she could take something home for Nikki, it wouldn’t hurt.

They carefully select items for Evelyn's baby, tops,onesies, shoes….hats. She doesn’t know why but Shells is obsessed with the idea of Evelyn’s baby looking like a mini Tommy Shelby, “That’s worrisome.” Beatrice laughs, flipping through each hanging outfit in hopes to find something else, “Especially knowing who he is.”

“I mean, think about it, wouldn't it be nice to have something like that? They’d be the coolest kid in town.” and she picks up a newsboy cap, showing Bea, “Look how cute this is!”

Beatrice chuckles at Shells' enthusiasm and takes a closer look at the newsboy cap. It's made of soft fabric in a houndstooth pattern, and she has to admit it does look adorable. 

"You're right, it is cute," Beatrice agrees, holding the cap up to Nicole's head playfully. Nicole giggles and tries to grab the cap, clearly intrigued by the new object.

"Well, I guess we can't resist this one," Beatrice says, placing the cap in their shopping cart. "Evelyn's baby will definitely rock the Tommy Shelby look."

Shells grins, pleased with their find. "See? We're making this little one the trendiest baby around. Just wait until Evelyn sees all the cool outfits we've picked out."

As they continue to browse the baby section, Beatrice finds herself getting lost in the joy of picking out tiny clothes and accessories. It's a welcome distraction from the longing she feels for Rooster's presence. She knows she can't change the circumstances, but she can make the most of the time she has with her friends and her daughter.

After selecting a few more items, including some cute socks and a soft blanket, they head to the checkout counter. Beatrice places the items on the counter and smiles at the cashier, all the while Shells is giving her a look.

Shells looks at Beatrice with a mischievous glint in her eyes,tapping her nail on the counter "You know, we've been shopping for everyone else's babies. How about we treat ourselves a little too?"

Beatrice raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Shells' suggestion as she is bouncing Nicole on her arms. "What do you have in mind?"

Shells grins and gestures toward a nearby clothing store. "Let's go check out some new outfits for ourselves. We deserve a little retail therapy, don't you think?"

Beatrice hesitates for a moment, thinking about her budget and the practicality of buying new clothes…when was the last time she bought clothes for herself? 

“And…you can surprise Rooster when he comes back.” Shells waggles her eyebrows, “What do you think?”

Beatrice’s cheeks turn red, her eyes moving nervously from Shells to the cashier, who just ignored the statement or didn’t care to hear it at all, “...well…alright.” she whispers, “I think it’d be fun.”

“Nice! And don’t worry,’ Shells winks, “We won’t go over budget.”

[konohamaru-sensei]

dis one is for me since I like never request anything for myself | Nanami Kento x Kim Mae-Hui | having them give something of importance to them for you, as a gift (ie. "oh this is a necklace my late mum owned.. she always wanted me to gift this to someone i cherish.. have it. :)" )

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Q IM SORRY I IGNORED YOUR EXAMPLE AND JUST WENT WITH MY OWN IDEA LOL. Love you lots, thank you for always hanging out and rambling and giving advice and drawing so wonderfully and watching anime and being a A-Class human being.

In an unusual turn of event, Mae-Hui didn’t wake up until the sun was already high up and the morning was turning to midday. That really wasn’t usual for her, as she preferred to rise early, get her store, her plants, her bug friends in order, before she could really start the day. But sometimes, on rare days such as this one was, she forgot all about that and slept in.

Once she realised how late it had gotten she jumped out of bed, grabbing the first dress she could find on the chair next to the bed and buttoning it up as she made her way out of the room. In her hurried state she didn’t even spare a look in the mirror at the back of the room. Her hair was secondary now, she needed to check on her things first.

When she stumbled out of the bedroom into the living room area, feeling like a bear that had just woken up from an especially long hibernation she found Kento on the couch, legs crossed, the Japan Times in his hand. She would have made fun of him for his old man demeanour at the ripe age of 30, but was distracted by the fact that he was shirtless. 

Shirtless man in her living room, not a bad start to a morning. Even if it was late.

“Eh-” she let out, temporarily forgetting how forming words worked among human beings.

Kento let the newspaper sink and looked over to her. He was wearing his reading glasses, which just added to his overall look of an old man though he’d barely reached quater age. “Kin-sei,” he said and looked over the rims of the glasses right at her, “you are finally up.”

Mae-Hui curled her lips a little. Nanami Kento had, ever since she’d known him, been a sweet talker, but lately he’d taken a liking to calling her kinsei specifically. A sort of play on words about her nickname Kin and the word for star. Sure, he most often pronounced it like two separate words pulled together, but sometimes he fluently put them into one. 

Kinsei, in a convenient twist he had probably thought about when he came up with the nickname, was the name for the planet venus. He was essentially calling her a Venus. There were times like right now when that embarrassed Mae-Hui a little, but there were also times like last night where it had embarrassed her in a good way.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked and hurried over to her balcony side plants.

Kento folded the newspaper: “You deserve sleep.”

He was so pragmatic it could almost be unnerving. “What about the store? I wasn’t up to open it!” She lifted her watering can only to realise that the plants had already been watered so she put it back down.

“I sent Itadori-kun to take care of it.” Kento stretched a little. “Now that he is soon to be a university student he should learn how to hold a part time job on his own.”

Kin couldn’t help but grin at the image of 19 year old Itadori Yuuji, known and renowned Jujutsu Sorcerer and Grade A sunny boy standing in her jewellery store. But then again it made full sense in some way. Yuuji would probably be so helpful to every customer that her sales would double. Maybe next time she could bring Megumi too then the clientele of female customers would probably double.

She turned on her heels and walked to her terrarium. “You are working that boy so hard,” she stated with a little wink in Kento’s direction so he knew that she only meant it jokingly. Still, she earned herself a classic Nanami deep-sigh in reply.

“I would say the work he does for you is more like a vacation,” he explained. “At least with everything else he sometimes has going on.”

The bug-friends in their terrarium were crowing happily around set out fresh plants that they were happily munching. Mae-Hui watched them move about and wondered how early Kento had gotten up to be able to take care of all of this. That he had gotten up and done all of that for her, just the general thought of that, already filled her with so much warmth that she could have jumped his bones. She kept it together though. For now.

“I thought you hate work,” she said instead, turning around to walk to the kitchen for a cup of tea. “Do you want the boy to get a normal job?” They always talked about Yuuji as if he was Nanami’s own son, when in fact Nanami hadn’t met him until 4 or so years ago and not really been his teacher either.

Kento sighed one more time. “What I want does not matter. Itadori-kun should decide what he wants.” Sometimes he was speaking in such a low voice that it almost left goosebumps on her skin.

In her tiny kitchen she found that a little teacup had been already prepared for her. Kento had filled the tea in a cup with a lid to keep the warmth inside. He had really thought of anything. At this point she wouldn’t even be surprised to find a full set of breakfast in one of the cupboards or the fridge.

“You look very good in this by the way,” he said suddenly. “Fits you better than I would have thought.”

Mae-Hui took a step back, the cup of tea still in her hand. “Eh-thank you,” she replied, wondering why he had phrased it this way. After all, he’d seen her in this dress just last night for dinner.

“The length of it just covers everything that needs covering, but also doesn’t cover everything. It’s nice, kin-sei.” When she turned she found him staring at her figure so much that it almost made her feel embarrassed once again.

What was his issue, she wondered as she walked from the kitchen to the couch. He’d seen all of this yesterday and yet he acted like he had never seen her like this before? She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the fridge door and then realised what he was talking about.

She wasn’t wearing her baby blue dress, the one she had extra chosen for their date last night. No, instead she was wearing a shirt like a dress. His shirt.

Mae-Hui stared at herself, then down to her toes and back to her mirror image. “Ken- I - I didn’t know that I put this on…,” she mumbled trying to make sense of what had happened. She had hurried out of bed and then ended up grabbing the wrong piece of fabric. The two of them often colour matched their outfits as they went out just because they liked colour matching and so a mistake like that was easily made.

“I don���t mind,” he said calmly. “I think it looks better on you than it would ever on me.”

She took the cup and sat down next to him on the couch. Half she had already lifted her hand to the top button of the shirt with the intention of giving it back to him, when she realised that she wasn’t wearing much underneath. That could have been sexy in any other situation than the balcony being wide open.

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you,” she said and leaned back into her couch cushions. “And from now on I’ll be a bit more careful about what I put on. Maybe I could buy a light kimono….”

Kento took a strand of her hair between his fingers like he often did when they sat side by side. He’d done it when they were younger and her hair lounger and he was still doing it now that she kept it shorter. Sometimes she joked that he would still do it even if she had a buzzcut. “You’d find a way,” she’d say.

“Just keep it.” 

Mae-Hui blinked at Kento in confusion: “Keep what? The shirt?”

“The shirt,” he nodded. “Now that I see it on you I realise it should have always been worn by you.”

Again with the sweet talking. In another life in which he wasn’t the kindest man in the world he would have made an excellent fuckboy. “But it’s your lucky shirt”, Kin touched the fabric at her chest.

How she had not recognised the shirt she had put on was beyond her, considering this one was so peculiar and different. It was definitely Kento’s favourite shirt, despite the stains and blemishes on it. He only wore it under a suit jacket when the fixes were not visible and only for work. There used to be a time when he’d change into a different, newer shirt for their dates, but Kin also liked it when he wore it. This was the lucky shirt after all.

A few years, almost like a different lifespan ago, he’d worn this exact shirt when he was called in to help out with the Shibuya commotion. And though he’d faced not one, but two almost impossible to beat opponents, he’d made it back to her. Sure, he’d sacrificed and arm and was now scarred on one side of his face, but he had come back. 

The shirt had been a little ripped, it had burned and lost a bit of colour, but generally it had survived in one piece. As if it was some good luck charm for him, he’d started wearing it on every job afterwards. Mae-Hui could not take it from him like this, it was what gave him confidence.

He sighed and then snailed his one arm around her shoulders. “Four years ago I used up all my luck with it in one night. But for you it might still have luck leftover. And I want you to be very lucky, kin-sei.”

Her lips curled another time. “Fine, I will make sure to wear it for you like this everytime you are around.” 

The declaration made him laugh. “Sure thing.”

They leaned towards each other and shared a kiss like this and Mae-Hui had to think of her earlier inner desire to thank him for being the most wonderful human being by jumping his bones again. 15 mins ago she had told herself she’d hold back, but now she thought it was maybe time to reconsider.

[borderline-culture-is]

not culture and i hope this goes fast before i commit a huge mistake. So first things first it's my birthday yayy!! And I thought of messaging my ex in hopes he wishes me a happy birthday. And this is fucked up. Because weeks ago I sent a long ass doc explaining how he should stop reaching out for his own good to get over me and then blocked him. And now I want ME to be the one reaching out. I don't even know what's going on with me things recently just are bad since I guess everything's going wrong with my bsf and recently I'm thinking way too much of my ex. Even though I'm still so hurt. We had a big short and unstable on-off relationship but also so so intense and I decided it was completely over after finding out he'd reach out to his ex (who he insisted on how much she traumatized him and broke his trust) constantly when things got bad between us and I felt so betrayed (he's still friends with that ex now and I hate that so much). Plus the fact everyone I ever told about him HATES him. And I'm the only stupid who still sees a light on him, but like. He has a big suspicion of bpd. And maybe even npd. Maybe he just needs help. And I don't know if it's wrong of me to want to message him though I would never even wanna get back with him anyways (but honestly, if we found each other again in 10-20 years...)

Should I really message him or just pray to forget him again

ALSO SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK IM TOO CHATTY AND RAMBLE EVERYTIME SORRY

- 🪨

Happy late birthday!

It's okay rambling, dw, that's what we are here for

[trashworldblog]

I AM SEVEN BUFUCKING HOURS LATE BUT...

BETH!!! TUMBLR USER TRASHWORLDBLOG!!! GUY FIERI!!!

You are incredible. Seriously. There's not really a concrete way I can describe just how cool you are. And by "cool" I MEAN cool, I'm not just grasping for a positive adjective to hype you up I MEAN IT. The first time you ever reached out to me in tumblr.com I was low-key stunned because THAT'S THAT COOL PERSON WHO POSTS THE FUNNIEST SHIT AND IS SO NICE AND AWESOME AND SHE WANTS TO TALK TO ME??? BOOG???

All Boog mentions aside, you're genuinely such a good friend. You make me feel valid and appreciated and listened to and I LOVE our silly little Tumblr takeovers (I am free all day tomorrow 👀) and how FAR we'll take our silly little jokes. You're also such a genuinely kind and positive force in this community like HELLO??? ILY??? And you're so creative and funny and just... The way you love the little things in life is so, so inspiring and I just care about you a lot, okay??? Even though you are evil.

That being said, the birds are still coming. Brennan and Steven are having a bit of a fight rn so management is all fucked and the army is out of control. I'm just a general in their squadron so I can't really change it. Sorry.

HOWEVER, if you follow the four commandments of ancient wisdom, you should be fine:

Fuck it, we ball

Commit to the Bit

Serve Cunt

Camp is everything

I hope you feel really loved and appreciated today, because you truly, truly are. Happy birthday, Merry Independence Day, Feliz Turkey Dinner, and I hope you Chicago your way through life. Best Boog wishes are being sent your way in 3... (there is no escape) 2... (i'm being serious) 1... (NO STOP RUNNI-

BOOG I AM SPEECHLESS WKJWJDLS

i- THIS IS SO KIND AND SWEET AND AMAZING AND KIND ANFJRJFLDENFOAKSKGJGM

OF COURSE ID TALK TONYOU YOURE SO INCREDIBLY FUNNY AND CLEVER AND KIND !! EVRRYONE SEES THAT!!! <3

youre also a genuinely amazing freind. i always feel so listened to and appreciated and understood. plus we know when to get silly and evil 😈😈 tommorow is gonna be very silly. YOURE ALSO AN AMAZINGLY FUNNY AND POSITIVE FORSE IN THE COMMUNITY AND IM SO HAPPY THAT YOU THINK I AM TOO AAAAAAAA <33 when ur silly posts break containment and the twt mutuals see your posts they absolutely LOVE IT. AND YOU ARENT EVEN ON TWT!!! LIKE!!!! THE IMPACT!!!! also are you comparing me to s**** t** cus thats a BIG compliment /lh /hj

I KNOW THE BIRDS ARE COMING. IM READY. I AM PREPARED. its good to know the higher ups are unprepared right now. unfortunate that you cant do anything about it 😈 i will use the four wisdoms, and ill use them well.

I FEEL SO LOVED AND APPRECIATED THIS IS AMAZING THANK YOU!!!! DKWJFJSJRJEOTJEBIDFJVYTOJRJ. happy easter, happy new year, Happy St. patcris day, and have a wonderful flag day! <3333 [you cannot escape these wishes. you must pass go and collect the wishes.]

[justanothersyscourse]

Im sorry I dont support driving drunk but that reblog kinda showed that you dont know what its like to be an addict?

Alcoholism can literally get to the point of if you stop drinking suddenly the withdrawals could KILL YOU. yeah they should plan ahead for rides but your whole attitude of “they choose to drink!” Was lowkey shitty and borderline blaming addicts for their addiction. Its not always as simple as “just dont drink” if a buddy whips out some alcohol or whatever.

If drug addiction was that simple to just stop and never relapse ever I wouldve been sober years ago. Drunk driving is bad but you really didnt have to do what op said and demonize addicts in the process. You made it to be like being an addict is because were too selfish to try to get sober. Thats not how it works.

Bitch, I am Newfie and the child of addicts, not just biologically but environmentally. My entire life has revolved around my own and my famiy's addictions. I have been around heavy drugs since I was a child. Three or four years ago I was heavily addicted to alcohol, and was hospitalized, which is when I was forced to quit drinking. Not chose to, forced to.

Trust me, I know what is like, and it's not demonization to admit that there is a level of selfishness involved in addiction, but that's also not what I said.

Also, how are you really going to come in here, comparing who has the high ground? "If they DON'T drink they could die, so them getting behind the wheel is justified, and if they just so happen to kill people in the process, it's not their fault ): it was their life or the other person's life, because buddy whipped out alcohol."

It's literally not like that. That's the stupidest thing I've ever read. Go sit in the corner and think about what you said.

Don't come back.

Addiction is not the START of the choices. You don't choose to be addicted to something, it's the result of a million smaller choices, and it could have been stopped or changed at ANY point. There are choices that lead up to addiction, and if you're not doing anything to try to make yourself better, me calling you selfish isn't demonization.

Addiction isn't as simple as choices and selfishness, either. Most addicts have a dual diagnosis-- that is, another mental health problem driving them to seek some kind of solace in impairment. There are biological and neurological predispositions that make it easier for some to become addicted to something.

Let's put it in simpler terms.

My step father is a heavy alcoholic. The type that, my entire life, spent birthday, rent or food money on alcohol, that was hardly ever home because he was at the bar buying rounds for everyone. The type that made stupid financial decision after stupid financial decision that drove his family into the ground. He CANNOT stop drinking at this point-- not because he's incapable, but because when he's not drinking, he has seizures now.

That wasn't true twenty years ago, though.

He reached that point because of one million smaller, more selfish decisions that lead him there, and that's not demonization. He was still a good person, he had good intentions, he always wanted everyone to be happy and have a good time. He had trauma and wanted to be liked by people. Unfortunately, he thought the only way to have a good time was to be intoxicated, and in the process of trying to keep everyone else in his life happy, he hurt and alienated his wife and children, and now he has no one. I haven't spoken to him in almost five years.

He hasn't killed anyone yet, but he might, and my mom and I know that all too well.

You can't talk about drunk driving without talking about addiction, and you're acting like that entire conversation is demonization, rather than constructive discussion about the how, why, and possible steps and outcomes.

You're acting like even talking about an addicts' decisions is demonization. Or are you saying they're not capable of making decisions and we should just... Accept that, and whatever dumbass decisions they make on the basis that they're being driven to make those decisions by addiction and could die otherwise? Even if they might kill other people?

Like, what are you even saying?

Don't answer that, I don't actually care.

People are allowed to call addicts fools for their decisions and are allowed to cut those people out of their life for their own mental health, and are allowed to choose not to be involved in whatever shitty outcome they find themselves in (up to and including accidentally killing people while under the influence), and that's not fucking demonization.

Being an addict is not an unchangeable part of them, it's not something they're born with but it's also not something they actively choose, either.

It is very much a changeable thing, provided they're willing and want to change. The longer they wait, the harder it is. Many of these people are given chance after chance, warning after warning. They can see the consequences coming, clearly, and continue to choose to feed the addiction rather than the health of their loved ones and strangers.

I know this, because I had to make the choice. My husband, or drinking. My mental health, or drinking.

By the time they're in a full-blown addiction, people on the outside forget that there was an entire journey up to that moment. That there WERE other options, in the past.

Addicts are very much victims of circumstances and biology, but the discussion around the effects and consequences of those addictions are not demonization. They're not inherently bad people, the discussions aren't bad, leaving a situation isn't bad.

What's bad is, using your example, choosing to pick up the bottle without a ride home, and without considering the harm that could be done to others because satiating your addiction is now more important than the innocent lives of others.

Talking about my biological father's death and the deaths he caused and how he ended up there isn't demonization.

It's a horrible true story that should serve as a reminder when people have to make their own decisions.