#thoughts today man. thoughts. digging it but also very much not.

[imwritesometimes]

trina, dana, cori if ur all out there. somewhere. girlies. I hope ur having a good day ✌️💕

[nkogneatho]

"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)

—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.

"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.

"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."

"But why?"

"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.

"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.

"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...

"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.

"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.

He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.

"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.

"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

�� toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.

You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.

Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.

"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.

"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."

"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"

"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.

"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"

"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.

Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.

"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.

"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.

"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.

"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.

You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.

"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.

"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.

"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.

congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.

"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"

"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.

"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.

"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.

oh.

OH.

You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.

"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"

"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.

"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.

He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.

"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"

"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.

When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??

"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.

"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.

"What?"

"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."

"Yeah but—"

"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)

"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"

"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.

Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.

"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?

The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.

"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.

"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."

taglist: @aztecbrujeria @sachiyoh @hellkaiserinphoenix @his-saiko @kokonoiscoconut @numbinyourchest @shewritesallnight @valiantmilkshakekoala @oreo-creampie @kutabaka @gojoxxluv @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @chronic-claire-universe @katsukichu @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @mostlyhornyandsad @leelee-66 @stargirlstabber

[hai7ani]

我的心肝宝贝 / i have found you / haitani rindou

sequel

losing your memories after a terrible car crash that's left you confused, quiet, and a little clumsy afterwards. all confidence had left your soul just like the past 2 years of your life, and honestly, you didn't think you'd be able to get through not knowing anything. things had changed a lot from when your memories had last stopped at.

you still manage to pick yourself up, however, even though it'd took you quite some time to gain back the confidence to go out in public with the blank and empty feeling in your head, your heart. you still don't remember much from the memories you've lost, and you find yourself constantly searching for something that you don't know.

and now you're in Don Quijote a little after 9 to run some errands for your mother who insists you go alone this time. before you left she had claimed that this may be helpful for you. she'd pointed out that this used to be your favourite place to visit at night when you had nothing to do. at first you didn't understand what she meant by it 一 you couldn't figure out why a place like Don Quijote would be somewhere you like spending time in, considering the loud, overwhelming music constantly playing through the speakers and the crowds of people who were somehow always everywhere in all corners of the store.

until you're queuing up for checkout and you hear a deep voice call for your nickname that you haven't heard in a while. you don't recognise the voice, though, and you think to yourself that this might be someone you had known just before you had lost your memories.

so you turn around, already getting ready to say the words you find yourself repeating quite a lot recently.

"i don't remember you."

the man before you is tall. he towers over you, he's a little tanned, and he's also the same guy you'd made eye contact with a while ago when you were browsing for ramen. you remember he had been staring 一 he seemed very mysterious, but you didn't think of him as creepy nor did he give off any human-trafficker vibes, and he never once broke eye contact too when you were passing him at the aisle.

"hi," you start with a little smile, and he thinks your eyes are bright with so much sun despite it being nighttime and you don't seem to be bringing anything up. he looks at you with an expression you think strangers don't normally give to another stranger, so you figure he must be someone you had known closely before.

"i, um," you blink once, twice 一 suddenly feeling a little out of breath and warm 一 and your chain of thought gets interrupted when he takes a step closer to your body. you can smell the hints of tobacco off his clothing and you resist the urge to pick away a loose thread from the collar of his black coat. the sudden temptation to do that was shocking to you, as you'd never felt anything like this before to anybody you've met recently.

then he lowers down a little to grab the handle of your basket and swiftly places it on the conveyor belt when you don't notice the cashier calling out for you (your back had been turned).

"thank you." you say as you start pulling out your wallet, getting ready to pay.

you turn to look up at the man again while waiting. you had bought quite an amount of items today, so this would give you time to converse with him.

"i'm sorry, have we known each other before?" you begin. you notice from his body movement that he is a little stunned when you'd asked him that, because he had taken a step back and frowned. he seems a bit confused as he curls his fingers inwards and forms his big hands into fists. the Don Quijote song plays softly in the background as you stare at each other like that 一 as he swallows the pit in his mouth, as you dig for just anything at all, right at the core of your brain.

nothing.

you decide to explain further when he doesn't budge. "i'd just lost my memories recently, from a car accident. i don't remember anything from the past 2 years..." you bite your lip, trailing off.

"so if we had known each other during those times, i'm really sorry, but i don't recognise you at all." your shoulders slump as you say it to him.

during those times.

you feel a little something, probably in your heart, rip apart inside of you when you see the light in his eyes swiftly disappear. you think the purple of his orbs had just turned into a darker shade. from violet to eggplant, his frown disappears, and he opens his mouth to speak-

"cash or card?"

you hurriedly look away from him and he sighs. out of relief, out of disappointment, or out of sadness?

"oh, cash-"

out of nothing but love.

"...we're paying together." he slams his own basket on the conveyor and eyes the cashier in a way that would've made you squirm out of fear because he looks so intimidating. "make it quick." he's stern when he says it, and the poor cashier looks so afraid that she does make absolute quick work of scanning his items together and checking you both out. but surprisingly to you, you don't sense any malice in his voice. you know he didn't mean anything bad by it -- he'd just really wanted it to be quick.

he's a nice guy, just a bit rough. he doesn't know how exactly to be polite. he has good intentions. he speaks up a lot, but he doesn't voice out very often.

you know. you want to tell her that. but he covers your sight by stepping in front of you and hands the lady his card.

(you end up sliding the cashier a piece of sticker you'd randomly found in your purse while mouthing a quick "sorry!" to her on your way out of the store.)

ane now you're standing outside the store, under a dim lamp post and you're searching for something inside your bag of groceries.

and he watches as you fish out a bag of chips, rip an opening easily, and hand it to him with a big smile. "here! my treat for paying for my groceries."

oddly to you this entire interaction feels so normal. usually a stranger would've never let another stranger pay for their things this easily, but with this man, it feels fine. it seemed okay to let him do that. you feel like this has happened before.

"why this snack?" is what he asks when he grabs a chip from the bag and shoves it in his mouth. he chews and chews and grabs another and chews, and your smile grows even wider when he finally takes the entire packet away and starts eating it like it belongs to him.

"dunno. i thought you'd enjoy it." you shrug, "and you do seem to actually enjoy it. i'm glad. i didn't buy it for any reason exactly, just felt right for me to grab it off the shelf."

he cracks a smile at that.

"you really don't remember me?"

"no, gosh, i'm sorry. what's your name?"

he eyes the small purple keychain of a specific initial hanging off your handbag. you hadn't switched it out even after so long, he realises.

...perhaps you did feel the same for him after all.

regret.

longing.

maybe still some love.

"Rindou. i am Rindou."

you give him a smile. he feels young all over again because you're looking at him the same way you always did.

"hello Rindou, i am y/n." you giggle as you say it, knowing he already knows, but you still want to say it anyway.

"were we friends? where did we meet?"

he sucks the flavouring off his thumb. it starts snowing a little. Don Quijote is no longer lit up and noisy as they start closing up the store.

"here." he looks down to the packaging in his hands and folds it nicely before throwing it in the trash. you tilt your head to the side, obviously extremely confused and a little nervous.

"we met here, two winters ago. i was lost as i was new to tokyo, and you bought me this snack as a cheer up before walking with me to my hotel."

"...and?" you grin, patiently awaiting for the rest of his response. it felt good to know you were nice to him back then 一 that this place was also coincidentally where you'd first met him with him eating the same snack that you bought for him.

a light layer of snow starts covering your head and shoulders, but he is warm when he moves closer to you and pats them away gently.

he then slides his hand down to rest it on the back of your head.

and he kisses your forehead.

you think you want to melt away like the snow on the ground. you think the empty feeling inside of you has been filled and you don't ever want him to leave again.

you think you have found what you have been searching for so feverishly after losing your memories.

"i loved you before."

you don't move in his arms when he snakes them around your figure 一 as he pushes you anymore closer to himself, into his chest.

you hear his heart beat for you before your ears.

"i still do."

in chinese we have this term of endearment: 心肝宝贝 (xin gan bao bei) which is a very cheesy endearment for a loved one, commonly used by parents for their child, but it can be used between lovers as well.

心 xin (heart) | 肝 gan (liver) | 宝贝 bao bei (baby/sweetie for endearment, commonly used between lovers) = basically saying that you are just as important as my heart and liver

i was picturing rin saying this to her in his heart when he was hugging and pushing her to his chest :(((

[loulovingho]

Part 2 of my injured Tommy fic.

Tommy watched the clock with distain in his eyes. Every second that ticked by felt like it was mocking him.

Just another second since he left you. Another second since you drove him away. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He hated that stupid clock.

He also hated that his and Evan's bed was in the living room, and their hallway was covered in plastic sheets for the remodel, and that all their cabinets and countertops had to be lowered, and that he still had to have help when he took a shower or took a shi-

“Knock knock!” Eddie's voice interrupted Tommy's thoughts. Probably a good thing, he figured. He was very close to throwing his stress ball directly at the clock and, hopefully, shattering it to pieces.

“In here,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes afterward. Because of course that's where he was. He was never not in the living room these days.

“I brought new movies and...” his voice drifted as soon as he got a good look at Tommy. “What's wrong?”

Tommy sighed. “Please. It's not like Evan didn't send you.”

“Buck didn't send me. Why would Buck be sending me?”

“Because we fought.”

“Really?” Eddie asked, and if he was faking surprise, he was doing a really good job. “What about?”

“He's...” Tommy huffed. “He's trying to help me all the time and there's some things I wanna do on my own. Too much hovering.”

“S'normal,” Eddie replied. He headed over to the couch to sit.

Tommy turned in the chair to get himself into position to transfer. “Can you pull my arm up a little so I can get on the couch?”

Eddie leaned back, staring at Tommy. “You got it.”

“I don't really ever do transfers by myself, Eddie.”

“Good time to start. Come on,” he patted the couch, “this is way more comfy than the chair.”

“Eddie, I-” he gripped onto the armrests just enough to make himself squirm. “I'm really tired and I'd rather you just help me.”

“Mm. No.”

“No?” Tommy questioned.

Eddie nodded. “Consider it tough love. I know you're not tired, Man. You've got a look on your face that says you're ready for about four or five rounds of Muay Thai. Use up some of that energy to get yourself on the damn couch.”

Tommy wanted to scream. Forget the clock, he wanted to throw the stress ball right at Eddie's head.

He squeezed it harder instead, his nails digging into the ball. “Can you at least not look at me while I do it?” he asked, teeth gritted together.

“What's that matter? I've helped you shower.”

He glared up at Eddie, his cheeks turning red. “You're really pissing me off, Man.”

“I can see that.”

“Can't you leave me the hell alone?!” Tommy yelled. “Go screw up your own life again or something!”

Eddie didn't waver. Face didn't falter for a second. “The great part about us being friends,” he said, leaning toward Tommy ever so slightly, “is that you can't hurt my feelings the same way you can hurt Buck's. You can either stay a grump in that uncomfortable chair, or be a grump on this very comfy couch.”

Tommy huffed and puffed and was fairly sure if humans could breathe fire than there would definitely be some coming out of his nose. He angrily pulled the brakes on his chair, then used all the upper body strength he had to push himself up and onto the couch. It took awhile. A lot longer than he'd like to admit, actually, but eventually he was seated on the couch. He tugged on his sweatpants, straightening out his legs until his feet were flat against the floor. Then he leaned forward and released one of the brakes so he could swivel the chair off to the side.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie cheered, reaching over to smack his hand against Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy would've liked to still be angry with him, but he was too busy gasping for breath. He was also actually a little proud of himself too. “Sorry,” he muttered once he was able to speak again. “I didn't mean what I said. I'm just being an ass today.”

“No problem, Dude. So, why don't you tell me the real reason you fought with Buck?”

“I already did.”

“Please, that was total bull and we both know it. You fought because Buck's trying to help and you don't want it, yet you wanted me to help you? Plus, Buck's been hovering for two months now and you've never said a word even though you can do half this stuff by yourself. Transferring was one of the first things they taught you in the hospital. Real reason.” Eddie snapped his fingers near Tommy's face. “Go.”

“It's stupid.”

“Of course it is. Tell me anyway.”

Tommy ran his hand over his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had settled there. “I...” his voice trailed off as he thought about how to say what he'd been thinking. “I feel like he's settling for me now.”

“Buck?” Eddie questioned. “You feel like he's settling?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so dumber than I thought.”

“Eddie.”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Why would you ever think that?”

“Eddie, the guy he fell in love with was a firefighter pilot. Someone who flew through hurricanes and landed helicopters on capsized cruise ships. Not... this,” he said, motioning down at his lower half. “I don't even know what this is anymore.”

“Hm.” Eddie nodded his head, thinking for a moment before responding. “Gotta say, if that's how you feel about Buck, then I'm not sure you know him at all.”

Tommy ran a hand over his eyes, trying to stop them from burning. “That's the stupid part, Eddie, I don't feel that way about Buck. I feel that way about me. I know how irrational it is and I know he still loves me, but there's this voice in the back of my mind that always starts running its mouth.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I've got one of those too. Sounds like my mother.”

“I think mine's my dad. And me a little bit too.”

“What's the voice say?”

“A lot of things. Mostly, it makes me feel useless. I've always had a plan, Eddie, ever since I was a kid. There was school, and football, and knowing that the second I was old enough I'd do whatever I had to do to get out of my dad's house. Then I had the army, and flying, and after that I went right into being a firefighter. I did that for so long before transferring to Harbor and flying again, but I always had a plan. I was always somebody. I was something. Now I...” he sighed. “I don't know who or what I am. I don't know what to do with my life. And Evan didn't fall in love with that guy. He fell in love with cool, confident Tommy. Which makes me feel like he's settling now, because he could be doing anything.”

His eyes burned. He kept wiping at them, trying to catch each tear before they could fall. “He should be doing anything,” he said, lip trembling. “He's young, and smart, and so damn handsome. He should be living his life, Eddie, not working part time so he can be home with me.” He gave up on the tears, sniffling as they started to fall. “He spends every waking moment either working or taking care of me, and it's not fair to him. It's not.”

Eddie waited. Waited until Tommy's breathing returned to normal and the tears calmed before hitting him with a, “You know you're never gonna walk again, right?”

Tommy looked like all the air had been sucked out of the room. His eyes widened comically as he stared at Eddie, shocked. “I- I'm aware. Thanks?”

Eddie shrugged. “I'm just saying, this all happened like two months ago. That's it. Two months, Tommy. You don't have to have everything figured out yet. Hell, you've got a lot more figured out right now than I do at any given moment.”

“Doesn't feel that way. Feels like everything's a mess, and I'm a burden. We're having to use all my savings for the renovations, and Buck's taking care of all the bills while only working part time, and paying Carla to take care of me when he's working. Then he's coming home to do PT with me and cook for me and help me use the damn bathroom.” His voice cracked again at the last admission, but he cleared his throat and continued. “God, Eddie, he was so upset but he still asked if I needed to use the bathroom before he left.”

“So that's what it was all really about then?” Eddie asked. “You were just trying to push him away?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think so. And I know this part isn't forever. I'll figure out the cooking once the kitchen is done, I'll learn new ways to exercise, we'll have an actual bedroom again, I'll be able to transfer to the toilet and into the shower. It's not that I mind the help, because you're right, I love the fact he takes care of me. I just hate that he has to. I don't want to hold him back. Don't want him to have regrets.”

“Man, your brain really is working overtime,” Eddie said, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “It's wrong, by the way, your brain I mean. Buck's obsessed with you still. Like, obnoxiously so. He's always looking at the clock, waiting to get home to you. He tries out PT exercises on us, researches meals that'll give you enough protein to keep up your upper body strength. Won't shut up about you on calls.” He laughed when he saw a smile playing on Tommy's face. “Seriously, last week we had this woman on a stretcher who happened to have a husband named Tommy, and Buck just lights up. Starts going on and on about how he has a fiancé named Tommy who has taught him all about monster trucks, and shown him all these movies, and is the coolest, and sweetest, and hottest, man he's ever met. No joke, Tommy, the woman asked if we could give her a sedative so she wouldn't have to listen anymore.”

Tommy laughed at that, some of the stress visibly leaving his body. “If you ask Carla, she'd say the same thing,” he admitted. “Evan's all I talk about, all day long. I know it has to drive her nuts.”

“You two love birds are meant for each other, whether your dad in your head likes it or not. And if you really think Buck's gonna leave you because of one stupid fight... you're dumber than I thought.”

“He's right.” The sound of Buck's voice made both Eddie and Tommy turn toward the living room entryway. “I mean, not about the dumb part. But, thinking I'll leave you.”

“I- I didn't hear you get home,” Tommy said nervously. He eyed Buck up and down, like he was expecting him to have physically changed in the last two hours.

“I was quiet, I guess.” He glanced at the wheelchair, then at Tommy on the couch. “You transferred.” It wasn't a question.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I did. Took a hot minute, but I did it.”

“Did Eddie harass you into it?”

Tommy smiled softly. “It's a very effective method, apparently.”

“I'll have to stick around next time,” Buck replied, smiling back, “and take notes.”

Eddie's eyes shifted between the two of them, noticing that they couldn't seem to stop staring at each other.

“I think my work here is done,” he said, getting up and giving Tommy a pat on the leg. “See ya, Man.”

Tommy cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Bye, Eddie.”

He squeezed Buck's shoulder as he passed by. “See you tomorrow.”

Buck smiled at him. “See ya.”

They stayed silent until the door shut, leaving the two of them alone.

“I'm so sorry I snapped at you.” Tommy inwardly cursed at the fact he couldn't seem to stop himself from getting emotional anymore.

“I'm sorry I hovered.”

“That's not... Evan, that's not why I really got upset.”

“Yeah, I figured. I've been here for a while, actually, I just... I haven't heard you open up like that since the accident.”

“Can you come here?” Tommy asked, patting his lap. As Buck walked over, Tommy held out his hand. Buck took it as he sat beside him on the couch, gently resting his legs over Tommy's. “I don't want you thinking I'm not thankful for everything you've done. I am endlessly grateful, Evan.”

“I don't want you thinking you're not enough for me.” Tommy looked down as Buck spoke, until Buck hooked two fingers under Tommy's chin and tilted his head up so their eyes met. “My love for you has never been based on your job, or what you're capable of. I love you. I love your personality, and your smile, and how you care about people, and how you always seem to know when I'm not okay, and how you listen. All of it. You still have everything that makes you you, Tommy. Everything I love is still right here,” he said, placing a hand over Tommy's heart.

Tommy reached up and placed his hand over Buck's. “We were supposed to get married today,” he said, his lip trembling.

Buck nodded, tears in his eyes. “I know.”

“Would you... Would you still want to?”

Buck froze. “Are- Are you serious?”

Tommy nodded. “I still want a real wedding, sometime soon. But, I really just wanna be married to you.”

“Eddie probably hasn't gotten too far yet,” Buck said, practically jumping up to pull his phone out of his pocket. “He could come back; be our witness?”

“Good idea. I'll get back in my chair so I'm ready when he gets here.”

“Need any help?” Buck asked, phone to his ear as he waited for Eddie to pick up.

“That's okay,” Tommy answered with a smile. “I got it.”

[feyascorner]

1 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Sometimes, you wonder if letting him ascend would mean he would still be here, by your side, rather than lurking the shadows of Baldur's Gate.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. very excited about this!!!! I have a lot of ideas on what to do w this plot!!! ALSO there is some material (pressuring??) in this specific chapter that may be a bit uncomfortable for some readers it's very brief, but it is there so please take care of yourself!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

His hands–the slender pale fingers you’ve grown to love more than your own–wrap desperately around your throat, digging crescent-shaped indents into your skin. You’d always thought that if he were ever to realize you weren’t as precious to him as he believed you to be, your neck would be the one part of yourself he’d continued to cherish. The softness in which he brushed his fangs against the most vulnerable areas of your throat had led you to believe so.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

His crimson eyes gleam with an emotion you’ve seen plenty on his pretty face, but never toward a friend. Never to you. You’re going to die, you think. And it wouldn’t have seemed so bad to die at his hands if it were not for the hatred reaching his eyes.

You’re not sure who–maybe Karlach or Wyll–but someone tears him away from you. Your chest dares to tighten from the loss of contact, yet you desperately grasp at the air, hands flying to the tender flesh of your neck while Shadowheart rushes to your side in an instant with her eyes narrowed dangerously at the very man who’d made the dark blemishes.

They’re yelling. Everyone is. At you, out of panic, or at Astarion, you’re not sure, but you just stare at the vampire spawn who’s now unwillingly locked into a life cast into the shadows of the city. He doesn’t look at anyone else, either.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

A pair of hands shake you awake, and you quickly remember the poor consequences to your back of falling asleep on the empty, narrow street beside the Elfsong tavern. You look up wearily, eyes in a daze as Shadowheart sighs irritably, brows furrowed in a way that tells you to ready yourself for a scolding. “Honestly, at this point, I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten robbed during the night yet.”

You force yourself onto your feet, leaning against the walls as you rub at the crust forming under your eyes. “I have nothing of value anyway. They’re better off stealing from some other poor bard who actually bothers to write songs.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check on everyone there.”

“Very well,” she says. She purses her lips after a slight pause. “You should stop falling asleep on the street. Especially since there’s been quite a few murders recently around the city,” she checks to see if you haven’t dazed off, “I expect you to come home tonight–We’re making stew.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

Your throat goes dry, and you can feel your knees grasping at its remaining strength as you search your mind for a way to respond. You’re tempted to lie through your gritted teeth, knowing she’s fully aware regardless of what pathetic answer you offer her, but you opt to seal your mouth shut, shrugging.

The flash of disappointment in her eyes is enough to make you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. With a curt note, she turns to walk away, glancing back for one last time. “Don’t give him the privilege of occupying a part of your mind for so long. He doesn’t deserve even the dirty filth you have all over yourself.”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Though after the pitiful look your companions gave you when you arrived back at camp and the aching truth in Shadowheart’s words, you find yourself feeling bolder than the last time you dared to call Lae’zel’s cooking inedible (which it was, quite frankly). 

He’s handsome. A reasonably tall elf with pale blue eyes glinting with attraction as he stares at you across the tavern. Sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and long hair brushed back and away from his face. You only notice everything else after the silvery shade of his hair–not entirely white, but fairly close, or as close as you could get to it while still being blond. You were sure he was approaching you for your title–the famed hero of Baldur’s Gate–rather than for pure physical attraction, but you weren’t in any position to nitpick at the moment.

You just wanted to feel skin other than the unsettling feeling of your own.

“Seems to have taken a liking to you,” Shadowheart sips at her drink.

Lae’zel glances at you. “He’s tolerable to the eye. Not quite attractive by githyanki standards, but tolerable.”

You stifle a smile at their attempts to urge you forward and put down your drink. “You sure you two won’t be lonely without me?...Or kill each other.”

“You can leave them to me,” Gale smiles, pacing toward your table with his drink. “I’m sure a Hold cast or two would settle them down.”

Lae’zel snatches the cup from his hand. “You act as if you aren’t fresh out of cast slots, wizard.”

Shadowheart shakes her head, nudging you forward. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be long. Certainly won’t be overnight,” you assure her. “I can’t miss the stew, anyway.”

She smiles, and Lae’zel scoffs in the other direction. “Hurry, he looks almost demented waiting for your graces.”

You snort and offer a clumsy glance to the elf across the tavern before striding out the door. 

Behind the tavern, he’s quick to press a desperate kiss to your lips, lacking the usual tenderness you experienced with Astarion. Or had it been tender at all? Even now, you’re unsure what parts of him had been to manipulate you and what parts of him had been his raw feelings. At the time, you’d embraced either with open arms–you’d embraced him. 

The elf bites at your lip, which snaps you back into the waking world. And while you curse yourself for comparing the moment to him, you find that it’s impossible as you observe that this elf is slightly shorter than he’d been. And instead of his hands wandering to your hip or waist, they graze your behind, pushing you into him in a way that feels nearly suffocating. 

And most glaringly, his lips are warm. Not the cold, yet soft lips of an undead being.

You’re grateful that he keeps his eyes closed because you can simply stare at his pale hair, longing for something you vowed to forget.

It doesn’t feel right. Not at all, and you hate yourself for it.

You shove him away, face falling as you realize you want to wipe his touch away from your mouth like it’s filth, and you do. Understandably, he appears puzzled, brows furrowing as you push yourself away from the wall, shaking your head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”

But as you try to walk away, his fingers close around your wrist like a death grip, sending shivers up your spine as you find that you hate the feeling of his skin. You hate the feel of your own skin, too. Why, you’re not sure, but he leans close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheeks and yank you out of your daze. “What’s gotten into you? I didn’t do jack shit.”

“I just can’t do this,” you hiss, tugging at your hand. You could just knock him out, but the hero of Baldur’s Gate punching people as they pleased wouldn’t look too good on your end. “Let go.”

“Well, you have to give me at least an explanation,” he snaps, grip tightening. It hurts. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been sending me looks all night.”

His words seem to snap the remaining patience inside you because you elbow his stomach, shoving him backward onto his ass before pressing your dagger that seemed to appear from thin air into his neck. You haven’t had to use the knife in a while, considering how your biggest recent foe was the stinginess of patrons when it came time to pay their tabs at the tavern. Though it belongs to you, it feels foreign in your hands because, for a time, it had a different owner.

One who used this very blade against you. The same one who taught you how to elbow someone hard enough to make them reel.

“P-Please, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You’d forgotten he was there. “Just let me go, please; I won’t bother you again.”

You drop your head, sighing loudly as you sheathe your dagger once more. You think you must really be losing your mind—threatening to slice open a civilian’s throat despite the significant power imbalance between the two of you. You’re sure the greatest threat he’s faced in his life is from petty theft or something along those lines while you—well, you’re you. It’d be equivalent to a full grown owlbear attacking a goblin with a half broken club.

So, as much as you want to make him bleed just a bit, you opt to step away. “Do that again to anyone—not just me, and I won’t be so forgiving next time. Understand?”

The tremble in his irises tells you enough. You sigh again, turning to leave.

You curse your luck. Of course you would have to attract the foulest person in the tavern on a night where nothing seemed to be going correctly. Or rather, the past four months that haven’t been going as you anticipated.

Getting rid of the tadpole meant you should’ve been free from the chains of someone else—and it had, but at the cost of losing something else. And that ‘something else’ was one you weren’t sure you were ever ready to sacrifice. It should have made you happy to see the Elder Brain fall, and to rid of the squirming feeling in your skull, but all you could remember was the churning in your stomach as you realized the last string tying you to him had been snapped.

You’d gone to every tavern, every bar, playing a tune at each one until the skin at your fingers split open, because he knew you’d be there. He’d known what your lyre meant to you. Yet among the sea of faces, not once had you seen the one you wanted.

As you walk around the corner, you wrap your arms around yourself. Though Summer’s quickly approaching, there’s still a chill in the air this late at night. You pull out your dagger once more, lifting it to the sky to examine its hilt against the moonlight, which glistens with what was once your pride and love. Now, it just looks dull, and faint.

You back feels too light, now lacking the lyre. You suppose you’ll have less of a hassle moving around now, since you don’t have to worry about the strings snapping, but it doesn’t soothe you. Still, you’d sold it for good reason.

An instrument is nothing without a player who can use it, after all.

So you turn your attention back to your dagger, the last crumb he’s left for you to hold dearly to your heart, and then to the trash can perched beside a nearby wall.

You’ve tried a million times before, and you’re not sure what makes you think you’ll be successive this time, but you swallow hard in determination to rid of the thing entirely. But just as you’re about to take your first step toward it, you hear a loud, halting screech muffled instantly.

It’s from the direction you came from.

You’re breaking into a silent sprint, the weapon in your hand ready to be used. You stop before you turn the corner, readying yourself for the worst. A murder? There’ve been more than a few occurring around the city, but you’d thought the Flaming Fist were investigating that already…You can hear your blood rushing in your head, but a crunch of bone and the silence that follows afterward is all you can focus on as your grip on the hilt tightens desperately. 

Cautiously, you peer at the moonlit alleyway, poised to attack.

You nearly drop the blade.

Draped in the moonlight with his face hidden by a hood, he nearly glows, though you’re not sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. His fangs are buried viciously into the man’s neck, whose legs and arms lie limply at his side while the life in his eyes slips away as if it were never there. And while you don’t dare to breathe, you stare with wide eyes, drinking in his appearance as if it would be the last. A part of you thinks it may be.

But as quickly as your heart begins to race, it calms. A drop of your stomach tells you it’s not him. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or how you know, but you can just tell.

The man finally drops the now lifeless body onto the ground with a thud, wiping at his mouth with the back of his dark sleeve. He turns, and you finally see one of Astarion’s brothers–the one who’d been at the flophouse, confirming your suspicions. Regardless, your guard stays up. “I thought you guys left for the Underdark.”

He snaps his head toward your voice, eyes wide. He looks a lot better than you’d last truly seen his face after Astarion nearly burned him against the sunlight in the flophouse. What had been his name, you try to recall? Pallet? Peter? It doesn’t matter, much. “You were at the flophouse.”

He cringes at the memory but nods. “Petras. You’re the one who stopped Astarion from killing us all, aren’t you?”

Your throat goes dry at that. You’d never thought about it in such a–vulgar way, and it makes your stomach churn, but he doesn’t give you time to respond. 

“Dalyria, Leon, and I have decided to stay for the sake of the spawn hiding in the city sewers,” he explains curtly. “My other siblings are in the Underdark with most of the spawn, as you expect them to be.”

You stare at the corpse on the ground, expression twitching as you meet his eyes. “Why’d you kill him?”

He licks his lips, stained with the man’s blood.  “I didn’t. Someone did the work for me. I just didn’t let his precious blood go to waste.” He pauses. “I’d put a few rats on betting that it’s Astarion.”

Your eyes go wide, your armed hands dropping to your side. “Astarion? He was here?”

You’d been here mere moments ago. Had he seen you? Was he watching you?

“Maybe. Judging from how quickly he ran away from the scene when he saw me, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Shoving your dagger into its rightful place on your back, you immediately turn to search for your former companion. He couldn’t have gone far. You’d been talking to the dead man mere minutes ago, and if the death occurred between now and then, he couldn’t have possibly gone more than a few buildings away–

“I never got to thank you.”

Petras looks at you anxiously, and as much as you’d like to cut the conversation short, the way he shifts nervously can’t help but keep you in place.

“There’s no need,” you reply, stopping to shake your head. You hadn’t done it for him or any of his siblings, for that matter, anyway. Not even for Astarion. Your choice to stop had been for yourself, to keep him by your side. Your brows furrow at the selfishness draping your thoughts—that you were willing to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls for the sake of protecting the one you loved. It was a lapse of judgement. Naivety. “It’s just how things turned out.”

He tilts his head but doesn’t push it any further. “Have you seen him recently? Astarion?”

“...No. He left after we—I killed Cazador.”

His eyes flicker with disappointment, and you wonder if he’s forgiven Astarion for what he tried to do in Cazador’s dungeon. “He’s always been good at hiding. Seems some things never change.”

You nod numbly. “I’ll let you know if I do see him.”

Though you doubt you ever will. Not after how things ended. But if there’s a slight chance, even the smallest of hopes, that you can bring closure to the sleepless nights you spend on the streets, staring up at a sky that no longer brightens the way it used to, you’re willing to wait until you’re shriveled up and old, while he remains beautiful.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

The painful clench in your heart doesn’t go ignored. “Have you spoken with him?”

“Once,” he says. “But it seems he doesn’t want to speak with us anymore either. You see, our conversation didn’t quite end in a happy family reunion. We did manage to ask him a few things—like asking if he was to be staying with you.”

“And?” You’re afraid to hear the answer, but your voice is far too hopeful.

Petras gives you a look of pity, and you understand.

You understand that no matter how long you wait or how long you search for him, Astarion will not be seen when he does not want to be.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

For the rest of the night, you weep. You weep in the comforts of nobody but your own arms and nobody to hear you but the moon above.

Baldur’s Gate is by no means a city that sleeps. The past four months have been a restless cycle of rebuilding the city, and while you’ve done your part, no matter how much you do, it never seems enough.

“Oh, welcome, dear. Your friends have been a wonderful help for my house as of late,” the lady of the Highberry’s Home, Cora Highberry, ushers you into her house, still missing a roof and half the windows but appearing in better shape than most other structures in the city. She offers you a wine glass. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything’s fine,” you smile, but just as you reach for the glass, it’s snatched away by a familiar wizard’s hand.

Gale extends Cora a gentle nod and that charming grin of his as he hands her back the wine. “While we greatly appreciate your hospitality, I’m afraid my friend here is in no condition to drink as of now.”

The playful roll of your eyes makes Cora laugh. “Ah, of course. But do know I’m so grateful for all your help. I didn’t imagine we would be building the home back for the orphans so quickly!”

“It’s the least we could do,” Gale beams. “Now then, my dear friend and I will continue working on the second floor, so just give us a holler if you need us.”

He whisks you away toward the stairs before you can wave goodbye to the woman. While you’d expect him to initiate conversation, he doesn’t say anything until you arrive upstairs, where you’re mostly alone beside the few other volunteers in the other room. You tilt your head when he finally paces past you toward one of the broken windows. “Gale Dekarios keeping his mouth shut for more than a few moments? The city truly must be falling apart.”

He cracks a smile at this, dusting off a few glass shards from the windowsill. “I’m glad to see you still have your sense of charm.”

“When have I ever lacked my charm?”

He doesn’t lift his head, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through a few pages while you survey the state of the room. “You didn’t return last night.”

You tense.

“It would be wise to be grateful Karlach’s still in Avernus with Wyll, because I’m certain she would’ve given you quite the scolding for daring to miss my world-famous Wizard’s Stew,” he says lightly, his tone morphing into something more serious when he shifts his gaze in your direction. “We’re worried about you, you know. Especially Shadowheart, even if that woman doesn’t know what gentle means in every possible level of hell.”

He’s silently asking you for an explanation, and your heart breaks at how gently he prods at your walls, giving you an opportunity to slip away again. But with how his eyes plead at you, you can’t imagine that would be possible anyway. Slowly, you perch yourself on the windowsill, looking down at the bustling crowd working together to rebuild the Highberry’s porch. They’re laughing—some face red with wine, while others scold them for it. You see a bard playing a tune you haven’t heard before, but it’s effective in lifting the mood regardless, and you finally glance at Gale.

“I met one of Astarion’s brothers yesterday.”

His face is grim. “I didn’t realize they were still in the city.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. “Some of them stayed. From what I could tell, they're mostly in the sewers, but they’re definitely here.”

“Did he seem…hostile?”

“No. He just asked me about Astarion.” You leave out the part about the dead body.

Gale’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything, only silently urging you to continue. And you do.

“He doesn’t want to see me. Not ever, I think.”

There it is. The same gaze everyone seems to give you lately: pity.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you hop off the windowsill, pacing across to the other side of the room. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I won’t. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t. I’m tired of waiting for him, Gale. I’m tired of waiting for someone who won’t ever come.”

And despite the puffiness of your eyes last night, and despite the way your eyes gloss over even now, you offer him a crooked smile. “I want to focus on the city now, for better or worse.”

Gale appears the happiest he’s been since returning a few months ago with the news that Mystra has healed him of his orb. “You thought well, dear friend. You should know how glad we are to have you back. We could certainly use more hands in the kitchen, as well, considering—well, you know how the rest of our companions are with cooking.”

Just as you open your mouth, there’s an ear-shattering scream from downstairs. The two of you meet wide eyes briefly before hurrying downstairs.

Only a few feet from the patio of the Highberry home, there’s a crowd gathering with hushed whispers and the weeping of a woman. And when you manage to push through the mountain of people, you finally see the corpse.

Cora Highberry sobs over what remains of her bloody husband, who, without a doubt, has the markings of two fangs punctured through his throat.

[hanniebaeee]

This man

Best friend Jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: maybe a little swearing, kissing

Genre: idiots to lovers, fluff/suggestive MDNI

Summary: You've loved your best friend, Jeonghan, since forever. You're so obvious, but he's an idiot. The question is, are you an idiot too?

You spot Jeonghan as soon as you step into the cafe. This was one of your most favorite cafes, so many good memories here. He was with Joshua (as usual). You and Jeonghan were best friends since primary school, and he found Joshua during his University years. Two best friends from two different times.

You wave hi and take off your coat, hanging it on the back of your chair before sitting down. Jeonghan looked at what you were wearing and smiled. Somehow you two had managed to dress similarly on one too many occasions. Today he wore a pastel green and white chequered shirt with light blue jeans, while you were dressed in a pastel green dress with little white daisies sprinkled on it.

'So, what was so important that I had to get here asap?' You ask.

'Were you busy?' Joshua asked. 'We could have met later.'

'I was working on something with Ver-' You were cut off by Jeonghan who was placing your order all of a sudden, very loudly.

He knew your regular order from here, so he ordered without even asking you. And you just stare at him (a little starstruck every time, but also with a stab of annoyance this time). Communication wasn't one of Jeonghan's strongest points and miscommunication, on the other hand, his natural self. You knew he was mad about something.

'So you were saying?' Joshua said, taking a sip of his coffee.

'Right. I was with VERNON.' You said, emphasising on your friend's name because you knew this made Jeonghan very jealous.

You didn't even know what it was about Vernon that got to Jeonghan so much. Vernon was one of the coolest people you've ever met. You felt lucky to be working with him since he always had the most creative ideas (and best snacks and the bestest cats!).

'Oh right, how's that new project going?' Joshua asked, ignoring Jeonghan's annoyed sighs.

'Really well!' You reply with a smile and you could sense Jeonghan's eyes bore holes into your head.

'What's the matter Jeonghan?' You ask, giving him an irritated look. 'What are you looking at me like that for?!'

'I'm waiting for you to stop gushing over Vernon for a minute' Jeonghan retorted.

'Yah! I wasn't gushing!' You snap, kicking him under the table.

'Oh real mature, Y/N' he grumbled kicking you back. But his shoe landed on your bare calf, making you gasp.

'That's my leg you idiot!' You say, glaring at him.

He looked to the side as you lift your leg from under the table. His expression changed immediately.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he cooed suddenly, bending down to run his hand over the skin. You feel butterflies in your tummy as his fingers touch your skin.

'It's alright.' You said, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

You sit up straight, only to see Joshua giving you a look.

'What?!' I mouthed to him and he just shook his head with a grin.

Jeonghan straightened as well and said 'You obviously enjoy spending time with him more than with me now.'

'Like you enjoy spending time with Joshua more than with me?' You tease back.

'I don't!' Jeonghan whined.

'Yah!' Joshua had a funny frown on his face.

'Stop bullying me now!' Jeonghan said, taking a bite of his cake.

'Ok ok, so what's the 'thing' you had to tell me?' You ask, digging your fork into Jeonghan's cake.

'So we're having a party at ours this weekend to celebrate the release of my first single album!' Joshua said with a big grin. 'It's doing really well, so we thought we should celebrate. Just some close friends.'

'Oh great!' You said with a smile. 'It's all I see every time I open social media!'

Joshua blushed and said, 'You should bring Vernon too.'

'Of course I will.' You said and you could see Jeonghan rolling his eyes at that.

Jeonghan was mad at you all day. He ignored you and backed out of any conversation you were part of. It made you so mad!.

'Whats the matter babe?' Vernon asked.

'Hannie's being a bitch and I don't even know why!' You muttered, taking his cup from him and sipping his drink.

'Go talk to him' Vernon said with a shrug.

'Right, he runs away every time I try.' You said sadly, sitting next to him, and placing you head on his shoulder. He rested his head on yours and said, 'You two are the biggest idiots I know.'

'What? Why?!' You asked sitting up and looking at him.

'Because, Jeonghan is whipped for you. And you are for him. Two idiots.'

'He's my best friend.' You said with a pout.

'So? Can't best friends love each other? Can't they be a couple?' Vernon asked.

'Yah, don't be loud!' You whispered, touching his hand.

'Well?' He asked. 'I know you love him. Not as a best friend, but as something more.'

'I can't risk it, Vernon. He's not just my friend, he's literally my whole life.' You said sadly. 'I would rather be his friend than going and ruining it all for more.'

'Darling, he feels the same way' he said. 'You should see the way he looks at you and the way he's glaring at me right now' Vernon laughed.

'Stop it!' You said, slapping his hand. 'Oh God, help me!'

'Go for it!' Vernon hyped you up. 'Please, so that he would stop giving me those death stares'.

'He does not!' You said, not believing your own words since you knew how he felt about your friendship with Vernon.

'Please turn around' Vernon said, and you did slowly.

Jeonghan had a drink in hand and he leaned against the door to the kitchen. He WAS actually glaring at you both. You have never seen such a look on Jeonghan. He wasn't a hot head. He actually never got that mad - he was more into solving his problems strategically than with his fists.

'You should go.' Vernon said again, nudging you with his elbow.

'I think I should' You agree and stand up. Taking a deep breath, you walk towards Jeonghan. Seeing you, he pushed himself off the door and started walking away. You run, blocking his way.

'Hey!' You said, 'I want to talk.'

'I don't' he said, trying to step away. He was way taller than you, so it wasn't that hard for him to escape.

'Hannie please!', You said in a small voice, head hung. The only voice you knew would get him. You were right because he froze and turned to look at you. Taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, he raised your face up.

'What's wrong?' He asked, his voice laced with worry.

'We have to talk' You said, and he nodded, taking your hand and leading you to his bedroom. He shut the door behind you. Folding his hands against his chest, he said 'Go on'

You squirmed under his gaze. He was just looking and you were falling apart.

'Um' Your voice and vocabulary decided to say goodbye at the very moment and you stood gaping at the gorgeous man in front of you. His beautiful brown eyes set on you and his dark hair falling over his forehead, almost over his eyes. His black round neck T-shirt and light blue jeans looked perfect on him. You thought he was way too beautiful for someone like you.

You felt the soft material of your navy blue dress crumble under your tight grip.

'What's it sweetheart?' He asked softly. 'Since when do you need all this time and formality to tell me anything, hm?

'Since I'm an idiot and a little bit greedy at this point.' You said, blushing.

'What do you mean?' He asked.

You couldn't look at him. You were embarrassed of yourself, and your pathetic attempt to tell this gorgeous human being that you have been in love with him for a good 10 years. You wanted to cry and you wanted him to just understand already. But Hannie's a tease. Even if he knew he wouldn't say anything.

You sigh and said, 'Sorry I wasted your time, Hannie. You should get back to your party.'

He looked way too shocked to even move. And the look on his face scared you to death.

'You've gotta be kidding me!' He said, his eyes wide.

'Whaat?!' You whine.

'You should try not to tease a man like that!' He growled. 'I just want to spank you for all the times you bring it this far and brush me off!'

'Oh woah woah woah!' You say, holding your hands up. 'Me?! I AM THE TEASE NOW?!'

'Of course you are!! Every single time I think that it's about to happen you pull away! You FUCKING pull away and leave me hanging!'

'I've NEVER brushed you off!' You said, your body shaking. 'Why would I ?!'

'Why don't you tell me that?' Jeonghan snapped.

'Why don't you?'

'You first'

'Jeonghan!' You let out a frustrated sigh.

'I won't let you out of this room until you give me an honest answer.' Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

'Oh right, we'll see about that!' You snap and walk towards the door.

He was there first with his bloody long legs. He blocked your way, locked the door and pressed his back to it.

'Move.' You said as seriously as youbcould. 'Now.'

'I'm sorry, can't do that'

'Why Jeonghan, pray tell!' You said, trying to pry him off the door.

'You know why sweetheart' he said, his voice low and menacing.

'I don't! I can't think why, ok?' You lied, even though could see it now. Vernon was right. THIS MAN!

'Oh you know.' jeonghan teased. 'I can see it on your face.'

'I could just kill you right now!' You mutter, taking your hands off him.

'You naughty girl. Brining Vernon here even though you know that it makes me so mad.' He said, taking a step towards you.

'Hannie. Stop.' You said, putting your hands against his chest to hold him back. 'Vernon is my friend. You know that.'

'Really? Just a friend?' Jeonghan asked, his voice anything but innocent.

'Yes' You said.

'Doesn't feel like it'

'Wow, sounds like a you problem!'

He took another step forward, you took one back. The back of your legs hit his bed and you lost balance. You plopped down at the edge of the bed, looking up at him. Your heart raced and the butterflies in your tummy did you no good. He just looked at you and he looked absolutely ravishing.

'Jeonghan, stop looking at me like that!' You whine, covering your warm face with your cold hands.

You hear a chuckle before he kneels down in front of you.

'What's wrong baby?' He teased, his hands on your wrists, pulling your hands off your face. 'Don't hide from me.'

'Oh my God!' You were absolutely melting under his gaze.

He laughed, not his usual gremlin laugh, but a more sweeter one.

'Are you shy?' He asked. 'Really? For me?'

'I won't shy away from slapping you if you don't stop teasing me!' You warn him.

'Go on then.' He said, turning his face a bit, showing you his right cheek. 'I don't think I can ever stop.'

And you shocked yourself by pressing a kiss on his soft cheek. And before you could pull back, you felt his hand at the nape of your neck. And his lips against yours. You think you died for a moment there, before he pulled you back to life.

Biting his lip, he watched you. Then he kissed you again. And again. And again.

'Baby why are you crying?' He asked, his forehead pressed to yours.

You didn't even realize that you were crying until he asked that question. Wiping your face quickly with the back of your hands, you said 'I've wanted to do that for so long, Hannie'

'How long?' He asked, tilting his head.

'Um... 10 years?' You said, shy and embarrassed.

'What?!' That incredulous look came back to his face. 'You kept this from me for 10 years?!'

'I was scared!' You said. 'I didn't want to lose you!'

'Did you ever stop to think that maybe I felt it too? Why do you think I never had a girlfriend? Why did I put you first all the time?'

'I thought you had a secret girlfriend because you used to giggle into your phone all the time after you started uni!' You said with a shrug.

'What?! I don't giggle!' He said, squeezing your thigh.

'That's not the point. The point is that I thought you met someone at uni. Until I knew that it was just Joshua. Then I thought you were with Joshua!'

'You DID NOT!' he said, turning beet red.

'I'm sorry, Hannie. I knew that when you brought him home' I said giving him a sheepish smile. 'He wouldn't stop flirting with me, haha'

'Mhm' he said with a smile. 'And?'

'And?'

'You wanted to say something?' He asked, his hand still on your thigh.

'Maybe' you muttered. 'Since you're being a big baby and you won't say it first.'

He didn't say anything, just grinned.

'I love you, Hannie. I'm so in love with you.' You said, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy. 'So so much.'

'Yeah?' He asked, cupping your face with his hands. 'That's good, because I'm in love with you too.'

You squeal like a little girl and throw your arms around him, giggling and kissing his cheek.

'Say it again' you say, holding him close.

'I love you. I love you. I love you.' He said, hugging you tight. He kissed you again, long and deep. His lips are wet and warm on yours. This is simply the bestest kiss ever. Then with one arm around you, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

'Shua's looking for us' he said, putting it back.

'Come on, let's get back to the party. Poor Shua.' You said, standing up.

On your way to the door, you stopped still as you felt his hand land a slap on your butt. Face red and voice shaky, you asked, 'What was that for?!'

'For cuddling up to Vernon before' Jeonghan replied simply.

'I thought we were over that'

'You deserve it for teasing me all day!'

'Says the tease!' You retort and move back quickly as he took big steps towards you, caging you between his body and the door, his arms on either side of you. You grin even though this made your legs go all wobbly.

'You are so hot, oh my god!' You said, hands covering your face again.

He laughed and said 'I'm trying to look intimidating here!'

'Ok, hot and intimidating' You said, as he pulled your hands off your face. Again.

He just leaned forward and delivered another mind blowing kiss. 'And, just so you know, you're hot as fuck too'

You laughed and said, 'I love you Hannie'

'I love more, baby.' he said with a wink.

Joshua and Vernon grinned like idiots as they saw you, but were kind enough to keep the teasing for later. But you knew that you wouldn't hear the end of it for a very long time.

When Jeonghan drove you back home, you asked him if he wanted to go up to your apartment with you.

'And do what?' He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

'Shut up!' You said, turning away to hide your burning cheeks.

He laughed, parking the car and coming up with you. Your roommate was spending the weekend with her boyfriend so you had the house to yourself. Keeping your shoes on the rack near the door, you walked in, for the first time as a couple.

Jeonghan followed you into your bedroom and climbed into your bed. He patted the spot next to him and held out his hand for you. Heart fluttering and legs shaking, you were way too nervous.

Though you have had way too many naughty dreams and fantasies about Jeonghan, seeing him on your bed was a bit scary. You've slept on the same bed so many times over the years, but things are so different and easy when you're just friends.

You put your hand in his, letting him pull you into his arms. Placing your head in his chest and listening to his heartbeats felt surreal. He may have noticed how tense your body was because he kissed your forehead and said 'We don't have to do anything today, ok? I just want to cuddle with you and kiss you for now. We can take it slow.'

'Thank you Hannie' You said, feeling relieved.

You place a soft kiss on his chest. Jeonghan smiled and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. Flush against his toned body, you were trembling a bit.

'Hannie?'

'Yeah?'

'I've only ever dreamed of this...I can't believe you're really here, like this-' You didn't even know what you were saying.

'Yeah? What other dreams do you have? We'll make them all true!' Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

'Don't be so cute!' You said, burying your face in his chest again.

His breathy laughs were the best. Everything about him was just more beautiful now. He's your boyfriend after all.

a/n: I'm in love with these cute dividers by @saradika ❤

[spookysteddie]

Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life. 

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him. 

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner. 

You. 

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl. 

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!” 

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him. 

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry. 

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face. 

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming. 

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record. 

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right. 

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.” 

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind. 

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction. 

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.” 

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.” 

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four. 

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing. 

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around. 

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!” 

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.” 

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!” 

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger. 

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes. 

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.” 

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.” 

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak. 

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.” 

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.” 

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him. 

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.” 

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes. 

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?” 

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door. 

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?” 

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?” 

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.” 

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects. 

… 

You were right. 

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend. 

Nothing. 

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home? 

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good. 

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him. 

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose. 

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?” 

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.” 

You sniffle, “is it just your face?” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.” 

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.” 

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?” 

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots. 

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.” 

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain. 

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.”  You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes. 

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one. 

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline. 

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. 

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say. 

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple. 

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.” 

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. 

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him. 

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years. 

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?” 

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster. 

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.” 

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.” 

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs. 

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest. 

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly. 

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them. 

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.” 

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.” 

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.” 

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. 

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared. 

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you. 

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.” 

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in. 

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him. 

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure. 

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.” 

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further. 

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy. 

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers. 

“P-please. Gator please.” 

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” 

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.” 

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!” 

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.” 

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely. 

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely. 

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you. 

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.” 

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight. 

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.” 

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both. 

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.” 

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter. 

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…” 

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.  

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him. 

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you. 

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.” 

It’s all you need to fall into bliss. 

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down. 

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you. 

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.” 

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?” 

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.” 

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.” 

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

[eccentricallygothic]

Expanding on my claim that Bucky Barnes treat his s/o like a kid because @yourlocalcringydaydreamer asked me to. I am aware Old man!Bucky also bled into this but as someone who has always preferred older men and digs Bucky's age, I don't care. 

-Always takes care of you because you're just a baby and at times you don't– can't know better. And compared to him, you can never know enough. 

-Old man wisdom.  

-So tired of everyone who is not you. 

-“Back in my days…” and “Where I am from…”

-You know, he always ends up being right from passive aggressive friends to toxic colleagues to guys who disguise themselves as friends but don't have the best of intentions at heart. 

-Hindsight is 10/10.

-You're basically dating a super hot grandpa who looks like a god.

-Chivalry.

-A wholesome gentleman.

-“Kids these days don't know how to treat women.” 

-Dates are on him. 

-Even if you decide the destination, you best believe you're never paying when he's around. 

-He doesn't even have to be the richest guy ever, Bucky will always come through.

-Flowers every other time you meet him.

-“I didn't know which ones you'd prefer today so I got them all” type of deal.

-Opens doors for you.

-Closes them after you.

-He has you so spoiled that you often need a reality check in your treatment of others, lmfao.

-Doesn't do casual. Because wtf even is that? 

-Picks you up on dates. 

-Kinda old school in his treatment of you. Not that he is a sexist degenerate who infanfantilizes you in such a way that you're not capable of taking care of yourself or don't have a brain. Rather, because you're his little Princess and you only deserve the best. Which, if you let him, he would be happy to give you everything he has got.

-Glad to help if you need to be babied sometimes because life is too much to handle.

-“Real men take care of things” so he does. 

-Not toxic masculinity though. 

-So wholesome and thoughtful it will make you tear up.

-Takes note and care of the smallest things. 

-Coddles you like you're the most precious thing to ever step foot on this earth.

-Blue eyes watch you so fondly ardently it'll make your tummy flutter. 

-A gentle smile on his face as he cups your pretty face with his metal hand to wipe the drop or spec of food that smudged your face. 

-Always hovering behind you if you're doing something dangerous like working a stove or changing a lightbulb.  

-“Give it here” if a knife is too sharp, you're not using it. Not in his presence anyhow.

-Happy to help no matter what it is. 

-Brushes your hair if you're too lazy or tired.

-Has done it in the morning at times when you are busy dozing off even after washing up with his help.

-Prefers to keep you tucked inside his arms whenever he can. 

-Gets a little chilly, starts wrapping you up in sweaters and mufflers and beanies. 

-If it's too hot, then he will make sure you are hydrated and comfortable at all times. 

-You are never sitting on the ground, hard no. Even if you're having a picnic in a park. Princess sits on his lap.

-Grandpasplaining things to you, sorry.

-Will lecture you if you're overindulging in something and on the path to harm.

-Very hard for him to be mad at you but you overworking yourself does it for him.

-Didn't get as much time as Steve to really socialize himself with the new world and new generation so there are some things he's old-school about but is willing to learn so he can communicate better with you. 

-Nothing is above you and everything is below you. 

-Carries you around like a little baby because his little Princess deserves nothing but the utmost spoiling. You don't mind. 

-Go to girls night out driver.

-Mostly because he's the only boyfriend who doesn't complain.

-Your girlfriends get too fond of your hot old man when they're tipsy and Bucky sighs as he shakes his head, muttering something about silly kids as he drives them all home one by one.

-You don't get to go home though.

-Because who will help you recover from your hangover? Who will make sure you don't wake up sick in the middle of the night? Or if you need something?

-Writes you cards and letters, they're an integral part of him expressing his love.

-Will take matters into his own hands if you're being careless with yourself or too picky with your nutrients.

-Accompanies you to your ‘kiddie’ concerts where he often complains about how they don't make good music anymore. Grumpy face. Some people move away from you two because of his stature and meanie face. It's an advantage though, gives you two your own space to dance and sing along in. 

-You have to basically drag him there but he he will never spoil your fun. 

-Will furrow his eyebrows and get a little possessive if you become a bit too silly with your friends though, he's still your lover. 

-Since he heals faster and feels less pain, Bucky is the one who carries your pouty ass back to the car from the arena and rubs your sore feet at home.

-Tells you all about the parts of his past life that he's fond of. Which also includes the things he liked/likes.

-Struggles with tech and huffs when you giggle and help your old man out. 

-Calls himself your old man sometimes. 

-Kinda conservative so he panics if you get too bold since he kinda associates innocence with you as you're so young and haven't lived half the kind of life he has lived. But you're a naughty little minx sometimes. You can't help it though, he's too hot and too good.

-But do not be fooled.

-He's a gentleman in the streets, and a beast in the sheets. 

-Once the wolf is out…

-He doesn't go down easy.

-That aside, Bucky is your human shield against the world, honestly.

-Always happy to advise.

-Loves it when you include him in your troubles.

-Never wants you to make the same mistakes as him.

-Does his best to protect you in every way he can.

[rosenclaws]

Happy Birthday Old Man || Old Man!Logan drabble

warnings: none, maybe a little sad

a/n: I can't believe Hugh is 56. He's now 33 years older than me. For now. (it'll be 32 next week but that's not much better oops)

come join my discord server!

Logan's back ached worse than normal today. It's been a pretty shit day to be fair. The fall weather only made his bones creak more and it's homecoming season meaning all those asshole rich kids with daddies money rent a limo. Stupid high schoolers who think they're being sneaky with their drinking making a mess in his car. He charged double the price after one of them puked all over his seats.

Glancing at the clock in his limo he sees that its finally time to go home. His mind drifts as he drives and drives. Only thinking about you as he nears closer to home. A part of him wonders why you're still here. He can't give you the best life. He can't give you any life. He's dying. Still you stay with him. Taking care of him. Why? He'll never really understand. As he pulls into the dark driveway he sees the lights still on in the kitchen.

"Honey," He calls as he stumbles inside.

"Logan!" You smile as you appear from the kitchen. It's nearly 3 in the morning and yet the smile on your face stays. He collapses into a chair. Groaning as his bones creak and pain shoots through his whole body.

"I'm alright." He says with a tired smile, he's lying but he can't stand to see you look so pitiful. Not at him. You sigh as you go over and start to massage his shoulders. Kissing his forehead as he melts into your touch.

"Are you hungry?" You ask. He nods. To be honest he doesn't really eat much anymore. At least nothing healthy. You disappear into the kitchen only to come back covering something with your hands. Slowly you move your hand to reveal a small cupcake with a candle in it.

"What's this honey?" You place the cupcake by his side and smile.

"It's your birthday." He furrows his brows as he thinks. Was it really? God he lost track of his birthday a long time ago.

"You sure?" You laugh and bring the cupcake up to his face.

"Very. Charles told me a while ago. I know that you aren't big on celebration but..." You drift off, starting to regret your silly little idea. He breathes in and blows out the candle. Suppressing a cough as he plucks the candle out.

"Thanks." He digs his finger into the frosting. It's sweet, just like you. It's also homemade. He can see the flour on your face and clothes.

He almost feels guilty. For being the lucky one who gets your love. All your hard work just to make him a cupcake for the birthday he forgot about. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He rips off a piece of the cupcake and holds it up to your mouth. Feeding you the soft cake and getting frosting on your face.

"Logan," You gently scold him. Picking up some of the frosting yourself and smearing it on his cheek.

"Hey!" He smacks your hand away and pulls you into his lap. He kisses the frosting off your face and you gently wipe away the frosting on his cheek. He groans when he moves just a little too quick and you get off of him immediately. Settling in between his legs instead.

"I'm fine honey, promise." You smile and rest your head on his knees. You try to hide your sadness as you look at the man in front of you. You love him and you don't know how much time you have left with him. But you push that thought away. It's his birthday. Another year and he's still here.

"Happy birthday Logan." You stay by his side as he rests in the chair. Basking in the soft moment for as long as you can.

"Thank you honey," Happy birthday to the old man.

Now all you can do is hope he makes it to his next one.

[heartpascal]

FATHER FIGURE JOEL, I’M LOVING IT. Can you make some comfort from father figure joel, pleaseeee???

so far from it

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you get into some trouble, luckily, you know who to call for help.

▹— a/n: aghhh i don’t like it!! but gotta give yall something while you wait for the part two’s! ALSO IM SORRY THIS ISNT AS MUCH COMFORT AS I MEANT FOR IT TO BE

▹— warnings: father figure joel, violence, blood, swearing, reader gets attacked, needles, stitches, a smidge of comfort at the end

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ever since you had joined Tess and Joel’s operation, things had been going pretty smoothly. Though they had argued on multiple occasions over your age, having various disagreements over your capability in this job, you had proven yourself time and time again.

It didn’t faze you. Nothing did, really. You could shoot an Infected point blank in the head without batting an eye, could dig through dirt and muck to find supplies you needed, could travel for hours upon end and Joel and Tess wouldn’t hear a peep coming from you.

That was life in the apocalypse, you supposed, the complete lack of any remorse for what could’ve been had you just been born a few decades earlier. This was your life.

Sometimes, it was a life you didn’t particularly want, but you continued, especially after working with the adult duo for so long, it had become increasingly clear that they needed you. You could get into places they couldn’t, your small size allowing those tight squeezes, and the strength in your arms helped towards moving things away from blocked entrances.

In return for your services, Tess had formed an agreement with Joel, that you could stay at their apartment with them, sprawled over their couch, and they’d provide you the ration cards you needed to survive. A roof over your head and food was more than generous, and you had known even back then that you’d be an idiot not to take it.

Especially when considering the power that Tess wielded in the QZ, with a network of informants spreading all throughout it, and with Joel, you knew nobody would dare look to steal from you. Everybody who was anybody in the QZ knew what the two of them were capable of, and considering your affiliation with them, you were sure nobody would even attempt to come for you.

You had prided yourself on being smart for a very long time, smart enough to survive in this world, smart enough to escape FEDRA school despite having no parents, smart enough to team up with adults who held some sort of power. You had never considered that that pride would be a bad thing.

But today, whilst out with Joel and Tess, you had decided to head a little further away from them than you would usually go, determined to use your ration cards for something you wanted. It was stupid, really. You wanted a dumb book, and thought your smarts were enough to trade the dealer for it, thought you were smart enough to avoid any tricks or cheats.

You knew there was something very wrong when two men stood behind you, one leering over your shoulder as you looked down at the object of your desires, and you repressed the urge to turn your head towards him.

Instead, you kept your eyes to the table, and shoved your hands in your pockets, one going to grip on to your ration cards, the other holding the handle of the knife Tess had given you.

It was when the seller nodded at the two of them that you knew you were fucked.

Trying to pull the knife out backfired, and the blade ripped your coat as the man on your right grabbed your arm, twisting until you felt your grip involuntarily weaken, and then the seller snatched it from your hand. The man on your left grasped your other arm, squeezing so tight you felt the bruises forming beneath his hand already.

It didn’t take a genius to realise you were in some deep shit, especially after being disarmed so quickly, and so you did the first thing that came to your mind.

“Joel! Joel, help—” Your yells were cut off by the left man slapping his hand over your mouth, and you bit his fingers, spitting as he hissed and pulled his hand away. You struggled, opening your mouth once more, but you were stopped before you could even begin again, as the right man grabbed your head, slamming it into the rickety table below.

Your vision swam, and you could only just register being pulled away from the street, down an alley nearby. Your ears were ringing, like they did when you fired your gun, and you weakly tried to reach up and hold your head, stopped by the hands grasping onto your arms even now.

The duo dropped you to the floor, and you just about managed to put your arms out to stop a second blow to the head, that would most likely have ended in a concussion.

Hands digging into your pockets were the next thing you became aware of, and your attempts of pushing them away went pretty much unnoticed.

“Fuck you, man.” You spat out, your voice garbled as you realised your mouth was filled with blood, and you could feel it oozing out of your lip and cheek. The metallic taste was disgusting, and it made you feel sick.

The two men pulled you to sit up against the brick wall, and you spat at the one you recognised to be righty, a glob of bloody spit landing on his knee as he crouched beside you.

“This fucking bitch,” He began, but was cut off by lefty, who shook the man’s shoulder with a sense of urgency as he looked towards the end of the alley.

You drew your gaze in that direction with some effort, and felt a grin light up your face. “Oh, you’re so fucked.” You laughed, blood still dripping from your mouth, and even the dizziness that overcame you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as the two men realised they’d dragged you into a dead end, and their only way out was blocked.

The fighting was a blur, if you were honest, the adrenaline leaving you as your body recognised that you were safe, Joel was here. It was only when his face was looming in front of you that your awareness came back, blood still pooling under your tongue.

“Shit, c’mon, kid. Let’s get you home.” Joel murmured, hands placed on your cheeks as he looked at your head injury, a wince on his own expression. Your head lolled, about to fall towards your chest if Joel hadn’t been holding it up, the weight feeling impossible all of a sudden.

You tried to help them stand you up, Tess having arrived at some point during the commotion, but you were likely more of a hindrance than a help. With an arm over either of their shoulders, you stumbled your way out of the alley, the FEDRA guard across the way turning his head to look away from the three of you.

You couldn’t remember much of the journey back to the apartment, which was probably good for your pride, as you could imagine it wasn’t easy. You probably looked like an idiot, unable to keep your own head up half the time, but Joel and Tess got you back safely, which you had never doubted.

“Concussion?” Joel asked Tess, after the two of them had settled you down on the couch, your neck resting against the arm of it, holding the weight of your head up for you.

“Let’s hope not,” Tess replied, handing Joel the bottle of alcohol and the rag that was left on the counter for times just like these. “I’m going back out, gonna go find those pricks and see what the fuck they were doing.” She announced, shouldering her backpack once again and frowning at you, before she turned and made her way out.

You could almost see the anger rolling off of Joel, the one emotion he never bothered to shy away from, and even as he tried to be careful, you still cringed and pulled away from the rag he was attempting to disinfect your injuries with.

“Sorry, kid, it’s gotta be done.” He grumbled, sounding the slightest bit sorry, and pressed the rag against your forehead, wiping away the blood that was still weeping from there.

You sighed, the taste of your own blood still lingering in your throat, but the wounds in your mouth had stopped flowing now. You couldn’t recall spitting out the rest of the blood, but you figured it must’ve happened on the journey back.

“Got me pretty good, huh?” You asked, your words slurring even though you were thinking of them with no problem, and you blinked your eyes shut in annoyance.

“Could’ve been worse.” Joel muttered, his hands moving your face to check it over for any further injuries. You could feel your eye and eyebrow swelling up now, and frowned at the sensation.

You should have never gone to buy that stupid book. It wasn’t smart, and you were always smart, so you couldn’t quite understand what had happened. That was childish, you realised, the feeling dawning on you suddenly, the shame, the embarrassment.

That was one thing you had always made sure to deny yourself of, those childish feelings, the spontaneous decisions that came with naivety, those were things that you couldn’t risk in the apocalypse. You couldn’t afford to — clearly, you had gotten too comfortable here, the impending doom that came with living in a world like this had started to feel far away, with Tess and Joel at your side.

It was embarrassing, having shown such a weakness, and for a moment you were worried it was going to cost you everything, but Joel finally returned to your side, having been to put away the alcohol and rag he’d used to disinfect your injuries. He was quiet for a few moments, and then started pulling something out of his backpack, the crease between his eyebrows deep.

You looked over at him, your brows drawing together when you saw the book he’d pulled from his pack, the blade of your knife stuck between the pages like some kind of violent bookmark.

The two of them were far too observant, and you swallowed nervously, frown growing deeper as you looked away from the book you had wanted so badly. That part of you, the childish part, the one that got you into this mess in the first place, wanted to reach out and pull the book from his hands, but you pushed that desire away like you should’ve done to start with.

“What? This not what you were after?” Joel asked gruffly, something like confusion catching in his tone.

“It was stupid,” You said in response, feeling anger warm your chest the longer you thought about the whole thing. From here on out, you were never gonna give in to such childish wants. “I was stupid.”

Your admission seemed to surprise Joel, if the way his eyebrows raised told you anything. He remained in silence for a few moments more, before he put the book down on the table to the side, and turned back to you. “You weren’t stupid,” Joel denied, about to continue before you cut him off.

“I was!” You said loudly, the words the clearest of any you’d said since getting back to the apartment, and you blinked away tears, blaming the head injury for making you more emotional. “I didn’t think. I put myself in danger because— because of what? A damn book? How childish is that—”

“You are a child.” Joel said, stopping you before you could continue your rant, your words getting more intelligible as you went on. You stared at him, the tears filling your eyes once more, and he carried on at your expression, “That’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to want things.”

“I want to stay with you.” You told him, voice shaking and watery, “I don’t wanna have to leave because I act like a kid.”

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, kid.” He spoke firmly, and with a bit of a hesitation, he reached out, moving the hair on your head away from the cut that had started to bleed once again. “Swear it. We’re gonna sort those guys out, and nobody’s ever gonna come after you again.”

You nodded, feeling the slightest bit relieved at his words, though no less ashamed of yourself.

“Alright?” You nodded once again, “Good. I’m sorry for this, kid, but that’s gonna need stitches.”

Your face fell, and he sighed through his nose, understanding your pain. He held the suture kit in his hand, and you realised he must’ve gotten it when he put the alcohol away earlier on.

He grabbed your hand, squeezing slightly, and kept his grasp on you when he started stitching, letting you grip on to him tightly each time he pushed the needle through your skin. “I hate getting stitches.” You murmured, when he was finally done, letting him take his hand back to put the suture kit away.

“I know.” He acknowledged, and ruffled your hair as he stood up. “Sit up.”

You did as he told you, swinging your legs so you were sat only on one side of the couch, and you furrowed your brows as Joel got comfortable on the other side. You finally realised what he was doing when you watched him reach over to the rickety wooden table and grab the book he’d taken from the seller.

“C’mon, let’s see what this fuss is about.” Joel grumbled, pulling the knife out of the pages and handing it to you, making you smile lightly even despite the pounding of your head.

“Thanks, Joel.” You told him, eyes still watery.

“S’alright.” He responded, letting you settle at his side as he looked through the book that had caught your attention. “Puns, really?”

You laughed at his less than pleased reaction, setting your head against his arm as you looked at the jokes in the book, laughing to yourself over some of them.

He just shook his head, pushing down the smile that wanted to rise to his lips as he listened to you laughing.

[coffeesleep-ooc]

Role reversal thoughts

So, we all know and love a role reversal (not really yall, there’s too little role reversal bingqiu n other fics and that must be corrected!) and we also know and love the teacher/student JiuYuan/ScumCum! We also love LiuShen

SO WHAT IF! Teacher/student LiuShen???

This idea has been plaguing my mind for most of today so hear me out

Liu Qingge is the Bai Zhan Peak Lord, recently, there’s been whispers of naming him a War God, or something. But well, its not like he cares that much.

However, the same people that praise him have started ro be very annoying and ask him if he will actually take a disciple some time. Liu Qingge is happy enough running a peak with hallmasters and people from his own generation, he doesn’t need a limpet dragging him down.

But these annoying, incessant people (his martial siblings) don’t seem to be taking no for an answer. So, he has decided to show up st the disciple selection, stay a little bit and then go back to hus things.

But when he gets there, there’s a young boy who has a determined face while digging with surprising power, who kicks at dirt and rocks when he forgets himself and gets frustrated, who sighs and looks at the sky (not at the peak lords, mind you) murmuring things that are probably not complimentary to any heavenly officials.

there’s a boy that suddenly and without any triggers, gets so angry he smashes a rock at his mostly well-constructed hole

Liu Qingge doesn’t want the hassle of disciples. But this kid. He has potential

What Liu Qingge doesn’t see (how could he really?) is that this kid will lazily complain to him, will wake him up from paperwork with a cup of tea, will get lost in his own thoughts with his silhouette contrasting against the sunset, will fight him when he is being hotheaded or unfair, will spar with him when he wants to get rid of excess energy, ramble to him about monsters and plants and everything and nothing while they go on nighthunts. He doesn’t see how quirky and companiable this young man is, or how enchanting he will look like smiling, or crying, or being worried about him. Liu Qingge has no idea how much he will care for him, and how much he will be cared for in return.

Liu Qingge sees a glimpse of Shen Yuan, but doesn’t see their future just yet.

[hayakawalove]

Wisteria and Ciabatta

Part Two

Summary: Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You.

A/N: I'm not really sure where this came from. I don't expect it to get a huge reaction, just because it's like way niche. But I couldn't get this out of my head. I am like pretty certain there will be a part two with smut, but this first chapter is just very sweet. This chapter can be read alone, you won't need to read the next one if you don't want to. Suguru is a loserboy in this but I like him that way. Enjoy!

CW: SFW, food, fluff

W/C: 5,608

The forest was quieter than usual today, he couldn’t help but notice. Suguru had become well acquainted with the sounds of the forest over the years. He traversed them for work often, always traveling from town to town to sell his flowers and bread. Flowers from his own backyard, and bread made to perfection from his own two hands. He enjoyed the way people's faces lit up when they saw the beautiful flora or when the food passed their lips. Suguru had to go out of his way today, venturing out further than normal. He didn’t sell as much as he wanted to in the towns near his home, so he figured he may as well see if anyone else would be interested. 

Lavender, Hydrangea, Yarrow. 

Suguru ran the list through his mind repeatedly. The basket he carried beside him held heaps of flowers, all trimmed to perfection. Along with the flowers he had several loaves of bread. 

Dutch, Rye, French. 

His footsteps slow when he notices a cluster of homes come into view. It was a small town, one he had never been to before. There couldn’t have been more than 50 buildings, but they were all full evident by the smoke rising from each chimney. His feet fall onto the stone path as he makes his way to the first house. When he knocks, he plasters a smile on his face. He had danced this routine many times before, always donning a careful mask when interacting with potential customers. 

“Hello?” An old man opens the door carefully. He must have been twice as short as Suguru. 

“Hello, I’m selling flowers and bread. Would you be interested in buying any?” 

The man opens his mouth to decline when a woman’s voice sounds out behind him. 

“Who is that?” 

She hobbles into view, situating herself beside what Suguru can only assume is her husband. 

“This fellow is selling flowers and bread, I was just going to-“ 

“You never buy me flowers anymore!” 

Suguru averts his gaze, training them on the floor below. He doesn’t mind being there while they argue, but he’s learned that an unwanted ear can make people uncomfortable. 

The old man grumbles before walking away further into the house to grab his money. Suguru can feel her eyes wandering over him. He digs his hand into his basket and produces a Hydrangea. 

“On the house.” He speaks quietly, winking at her. 

Her face flushes as she takes the flower, admiring the color. Her husband comes back and counts his cash before handing it to Suguru who doesn’t bother counting it. He grabs a heap of flowers, all three types tossed in, before handing them to the man. 

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru smiles before stepping back, watching him give the flowers to his wife. 

An adorable moment by nature. It almost feels too vulnerable to see the look of love on the old woman’s face as she receives the gift. 

Suguru continues on to the next house, selling flowers and bread as he goes. He went to every house in town until there was only one remaining. 

He walks up to the dwelling, knocking on the door and waits patiently for whoever’s living there. 

The door opens, your body standing there. 

If you asked Suguru a day ago what he thought the most beautiful thing was he would say a dicentra or maybe even tulips. That was before he saw you. Your cheeks like petals, soft and plump. You also had eyes that shined brighter than the early morning dew that clung to his garden. You were magnificent. You were the most beautiful flower he had ever seen. 

“Hello?” 

Suguru never found himself speechless. Throughout his life he had found himself in a multitude of situations that would warrant it, but he wasn’t, not even once. He had trained himself on how to smile and talk to people, he prided himself on it. No one was too hard to talk to. 

Until he met you. 

His lips refused to cooperate with him, throat muddled up. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m selling homemade bread and flowers.” 

Idiot.

That’s what he decided to say? Not even a proper hello first? 

“Oh, lovely. I was hoping to make something for dinner but didn’t have anything around the house. How much for the bread?” You ask, digging in your pocket for money. 

Suguru tears his eyes from you, a painful task, and opens his basket. Most of his inventory was gone. He did have a loaf of Dutch bread at the bottom of the basket, the sight of it mocking him. He couldn’t give you that. It was no longer fresh, and it was cold to the touch. He couldn’t give you it. 

You pull out your hand, palm cupped with money. 

“I’m out of bread.” He finds himself saying. 

Your brow raises. A beat passes before you speak. 

“Okay, what about flowers?” 

He wordlessly thanks your graciousness. In his basket he finds two Yarrows. All of his flowers were beautiful, but he found himself cursing God for not making anything more beautiful. 

Suguru holds them up to you, fighting back a whimper when your hand grazes him as you pluck the stems from his grasp. 

“How much?” 

“You don’t have to pay.” 

He would never force you to pay for anything, especially not something that could never rival your beauty. 

He watches your lips slowly morph into a smile. 

“You’re an interesting merchant.”

He’s sure you’re making fun of him, but he doesn’t care. His cheeks feel hot as he looks into your eyes. 

“I was planning on visiting this village again tomorrow, I will bring more bread then.” 

He wasn’t planning on visiting this village again until now. It had been a random stop he never was going to make again. 

Your eyes flit down to the Yarrow, admiring them. 

“You know where to find me.” 

~~~

Suguru’s feet hurt when he finally arrives back home. He wants to go to bed but he can’t. Not when he needs to make bread for you. Usually he had extra dough laying around, but he didn’t. Even if he did, he would’ve preferred to make it fresh. He works tirelessly as he prepares the dough, pouring all his love into it. Flour cakes under his fingernails, his palms hurting from kneading the dough for so long. 

He wouldn’t dream of complaining. Not when he knew who this was for. He didn’t even catch your name. Once he knew it, he would spell it in the stars so everyone did too. 

Suguru barely gets any sleep. It was a concoction of baking and nerves. His house smells like bread while he walks around, preparing for his long journey ahead. He searched in his kitchen before finding a small jar of homemade strawberry jam. One of his neighbors, a kind elderly widow, had made it for him. They often traded breads and jams, occasionally sharing them outside when the weather was right. 

Once everything was ready, he placed it all in his basket before setting off into the forest again. 

The walk was way faster than he remembered it being. His mind was too clouded with thoughts of you. He enters the town, making his way directly to your house first thing. He wasn’t even really sure if he was going to go to the other houses after. 

The door rattles with his fist, and he wills the butterflies going off in his body to settle down. 

If he had at all been worried your beauty was a fluke, which he wasn’t, his worries certainly died down the moment he looked at you for a second time.

You’re just as beautiful the second time around as you were the first. 

Your chest was heaving with sweat lining your forehead. You must’ve been hard at work. Doing what, he wondered? 

“It’s you.” 

“It’s me.” He responds with a smile. “Much more prepared this time, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t want to tell you he stayed up until the sun rose to prepare your bread.

A sly grin breaks across your face. You lean against the door frame, your eyes sliding down his figure. Suguru can feel his skin tingling with each inch your eyes covered. 

“What have you brought for me today?” 

Suguru holds up his basket and reveals the fresh bread. It was a simple loaf of wheat bread, and although it was basic, it was renowned as his best selling one. He feels his heart flutter the second the scent reaches your nose, your face lightening up. 

“That smells wonderful.” 

“Tastes wonderful too, or so I’ve been told.” 

You open the door a bit more, revealing the rest of the house behind you. It was humble, an aboad that was probably common in these parts of town. 

“Why don’t you come in and share it with me?” 

The offer stops Suguru in his tracks. Out of all the things you could have said to him, he wasn’t expecting that. 

The first thought that crosses his mind is flattery. You want to eat with him? 

The second feeling that follows after is worry. You want to eat with him, and he’s a stranger. 

“You hardly know me.” He speaks. 

The idea that you would open your door to just anyone frightened him a bit. What if it was someone with bad intentions? 

“What’s your name?” 

You don’t look afraid, even though Suguru feels you should be. 

“Suguru.” 

You toss his name across your brain several times. You say your name back and step away, letting him come in. 

“Now you know my name and I know yours. Share it with me?” 

He's touched by your kindness, but still mildly unnerved at the idea you might do this for someone with unsavory motives. 

It’s hard to refuse your offer, so he finds himself stepping in after you. The close proximity whisks his breath away but you hardly notice. You don’t even spare him a glance as you head over to your table. 

You sit down and look up at him, waiting for him to join you. He places the basket on the table before rummaging around, pulling the loaf out.

“I also brought more flowers, in case you were interested.” 

“Will you let me pay this time?” 

“Maybe.” No, he wouldn’t. 

Suguru didn’t need any form of payment. As long as he got to see the joy on your face again, that was all he needed. 

You grab a knife and begin to slide through the loaf, slicing several pieces for the two of you. He wondered if you were able to tell he made the bread fresh for you. Did the warmth of it tingle your fingers? Could you feel the love that seeped from it? 

Suguru pulls out the jam and sets it aside. 

“What’s that?” You ask. 

“My neighbor made it. It’s strawberry.” 

You pick up the jar, eyes gliding across the glass in amazement. 

“Where do you live? The people in this town don’t bake bread or make jam. Maybe I should move to your town.” You joke. 

Don’t say that, he thinks. If you say that, he might beg you to. 

He hardly knows you, yet he’s finding himself completely entranced by you. He aches to learn more. 

“A town further South. A couple hours at most.” He keeps his eyes trained down on your hands, watching as you spread the jam on the bread. 

Only when the silence stretches on for too long does he rip his eyes from your fingers, looking up. 

He doesn’t know whether he should be startled or not at the face you’re making. Your eyes are open wide, like you’re looking through him. 

“Hours?” You repeat. 

Suguru nods, his brows raising. 

“I didn’t see a horse.” 

“I walked.” 

You stutter a bit before placing the knife down, pushing the plate in the middle of the table. Suguru’s eyes drift down, the intimacy of sharing a dish not lost on him. 

“I could never walk that long.” You murmur, picking up a piece of bread, raising it to your lips. 

Suguru tries not to stare at the way your lips part, but it’s difficult. 

“It’s not that bad.” He pulls his piece up to him, taking a bite. 

“Not everyone has such long legs.” You say around the food. 

Suguru’s mouth perks up, a smile gracing his features. He was used to people commenting on his height, but he felt an extra ounce of pride when you were the one saying it. 

You mumble around the food, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

“Suguru, this is wonderful!” Excitement seeps from your words and Suguru’s heart jumps. 

“Thank you.” He dips his head down, suddenly bashful. 

The two of you share the meal, words flowing flawlessly between you. 

“It’s a shame that my father isn’t here, I’m sure he would love this as much as I do.” You comment. 

Suguru leans back, not sure if this is a touchy subject. 

“He’s just out of town today, I’ll share some with him when he comes back. Maybe.” You smirk. 

“What does he do for work?” 

“He helps people get their farms up and running. I think he traveled to help a young couple get theirs set up.” 

Suguru begins to daydream about owning a farm with you. Would you adore his flowers as much as he did? Would you let him do all the work? He wouldn’t mind it, he preferred it. 

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help the infatuation that grew in his heart. 

Besides, Suguru never was one to love normally or calmly. 

“I was trying to clean the house before he returns, but I must admit I’m having a hard time reaching things.” 

“Would you allow me to help? I’ve got long legs, you know.”

A song floats over to his ears, a song built on your laughter. He could get used to that. 

“I couldn’t make you do that. I already dragged you inside to eat with me. I’m sure you have much more important things to be doing.” 

Never, he thinks. Nothing would be more important than this. 

“It’s okay.” He says plainly. 

He watches as you seem to be debating inside your head. You give up, standing up to carry the dishes to the sink. 

“I would love help changing out the candles.” You say sheepishly. 

Suguru waits as you leave to go find the extra candles, his head racing with thoughts. After you finished, there would be no reason for him to stay. He would have to go back home. He wanted to stay and talk with you more. Your words facisnated him. He felt like a child, the way he longed to hear you tell him stories. He didn’t want to go home. Not when being with you felt more like home than his own ever did. 

“I found them.” You speak, snapping him out of it. 

You guide him around the house, showing him every spot that needed a new candle. 

It should be a simple task for him. He finds it increasingly difficult, however. He feels your eyes bore into him each time he reaches up, making his heart pound. Even though it’s easy to do, he’s just replacing old candles, he almost feels like he’s never done anything so hard before. He can feel the way your eyes track his movement, almost making it impossible to focus. His linen shirt suddenly feels too hot, as he tries to keep his eyes on his hands. 

“There, how does that look?”

You stare at the metal candle holder for a minute before nodding, a soft hum coming from your lips. 

“It looks wonderful, Suguru.”

He decides no one has ever said his name as beautifully as you do. 

He steps back, following you towards the kitchen. He can tell that he needs to leave, but a small part of him is upset at that fact. 

“Will you be in town anytime soon? I’d love to purchase more bread, if that’s alright.” You stare at him as he gathers his things. 

He nods, and looks down at you. 

“I can come back in several days.” 

“Fantastic, I’ll be looking forward to it.” You say happily. 

So will I, Suguru thinks. 

~~~

Suguru leans back, watching you chew a new recipe he tried for bread. So far, so good, he thinks. Your lips are played in a smile as you taste it, swallowing it with a sigh. 

“I don't think you can make something bad.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Suguru jokes. 

“One you’d fail, I’m sure.” 

Your flattery causes his heart to race, a throb settling deep in his chest. 

“I wish I could bake like you.” You say. 

“I could teach you, if you’d like. It isn’t that hard.” 

Your eyes flash with excitement and Suguru has to swallow the knot that forms in his throat. 

“You can?” 

Yes, anything for you. 

“Sure. I can bring the ingredients tomorrow.” 

You jump up and down in your seat, chattering away to him about all that you want to do with the bread. Are you aware of how you make his stomach twist? He thinks there’s no way you are. 

~~~

When Suguru comes the next morning he has a burlap sack filled to the brim with ingredients, all for your bread. You open the door the second he knocks it, taking him by surprise. 

“I apologize, I didn’t sleep much last night.” You say all giddy, opening up the door more. 

Suguru steps inside and follows you to your table. You already have it set up according to how he told you. There’s bowls and spoons, all perfectly set. His hair is already tied back, so all he needs to do is roll up his sleeves. 

He stands next to you, reading out what ingredients to add next. He watches over your shoulder as you eagerly mix, chuckling to himself when some of it spills out the sides. 

“Slowly, sweetheart.” He murmurs. 

You apologize quietly, following his order of slowing your hand down. 

It was looking good, but now was the time to start getting your hands dirty. 

“The next step is to knead it. You do this by placing it on the table, and pressing your hands into it.” Suguru explains, watching you scrap the bowl and plop the dough in front of you. 

“Mmm like this?” You ask, folding it over itself. 

“Just like that, a little more pressure.” He adds. 

Without even thinking, he reaches his arms on either side of you, correcting your form to knead it harder. His hands hover over yours, pressing your palms down more against the plush dough. 

“You have big hands.” You chuckle, and suddenly Suguru’s aware of what he’s doing. 

“Oh, my bad. I shouldn’t have-“ 

“No, it’s okay. You should keep your hands there, so I don't mess up.” You correct him. 

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking at him. His face is unbearingly close to yours, heat from your cheeks radiating off and scorching his face. He looks deep into your eyes before you’re quickly looking back down, watching the bread below your hands. 

Suguru berates his heart as he helps you, hoping it slows down. That moment with you kept repeating in his mind, over and over again. 

He snaps out of it when you squeal, pulling the bread from the oven. The top of it is perfectly golden, the smell of it filling your tiny kitchen. 

“Look, Suguru!” You say, placing it down. 

He looks over the top of your head and smiles. 

“It looks good, let’s wait for it to cool before we try it.” 

He would have liked to wait a little longer, afraid it would burn your tongue, but he couldn’t say no with the way you were tilting back and forth, begging to cut into it. Suguru takes the liberty, pouring the bread from the pan before sliding a knife down the side of it. It cuts smoother than butter, steam wafting up from it. 

“Okay, let’s try it.” Suguru raises a small piece, holding it in his hand as he lifts it to your mouth. 

The heat soaks into the pads of his finger tips, but he’d much rather get burned than you. You look down and blow on the bread, Suguru has to force himself not to gasp at the air caressing his skin. You look up at him and take a bite, smiling as crumbs dust your lips. 

“It’s so good!” You murmur around the mouth full of food. 

Suguru uses his other hand to lift up a separate piece, taking a slight nibble. It was fantastic. Sweeter than the bread he made, he wondered if that was just because you were the one who created it. 

“You may put me out of business.” He jokes.

You pull your piece from his hand, holding it tightly next to your face. A shame, he thinks. He would’ve preferred for you to keep eating from his palm. Did that say something about him? 

“I might, you better watch over your back.” You say, eating the rest of your bread with a grin. 

“I will.” Suguru says back, treasuring the way the food melts on his tongue. 

~~~

“Hey Suguru?” 

The two of you have settled into a comfortable routine, as he had visited a couple of more times, always sitting in your kitchen to share a plate of bread with you. 

He flicks his eyes up to you before looking back down. 

“Is the forest dangerous?” You finish. 

Suguru takes a moment to think. He’s never thought about it before. His feet have carried him through the trees for countless years. 

“Not really. The only thing you have to look out for is bandits.”

He takes a moment to appreciate the way you’re gaping at him. 

“I’ve never seen any though. Just know they’re out there.” 

“They’d be a fool to try to rob you.” You mutter under your breath. 

Suguru lets out a quiet chuckle. Any reason to point out his height, you’d take it. 

“As children we’re warned not to go in too deep.” You mumble. 

“I can bring you if you like? They have some Gardenia’s there, not too deep in. We can go and get them if you want?” 

“You’d keep me safe from bandits?”

Yes, you don’t even have to ask. He’d go toe to toe for you.  

“Of course.” 

The more he got to know you, the more Suguru grew to like you, really like you. It was no longer infatuation, it grew into something more beautiful and large. 

He notices you dip your head down at the tone of his soft voice. You have a few habits he’s picked up on. One of them is every reaction you have to his words. You like to poke and prod him, but the second he pushes back or uses a specific tone you look away, teeth nibbling on your lip. It’s adorable, he thinks. 

~~~

You both decide to go to the forest tomorrow. He decides to stay in your town overnight because there would be no point in making the long trek back to his only to come back tomorrow morning. You offered a bed in your house, knowing your father would not have it, but Suguru declined. It would be improper, he told you. He had never felt his body fight so hard against him before. Even though it’s hard for him to say no, he doesn’t relent. He ends up staying at the only Inn in town. It was a normal house, with five extra rooms spread out. His host was a sweet older woman who insisted on helping carry his bags to his room. The act pained him, but he knew better than to tell a woman no.

As he lay in bed that night he stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of you curling around his mind. 

You were here, in this town. 

Suguru wakes up earlier than you do. His eyes crack open the second the sun shines through, his body restless. There was so much to show you, he didn’t know where to begin. Along with that, he felt the early onsets of fear begin to take hold. He had never thought about bandits before, but now that you mention it he couldn’t shake the idea. What if there were some when you went out? He wasn’t afraid of taking care of you. He knew he could do that. He just didn’t want you to see something ugly. He feared he would never forgive himself. 

Suguru walks to your house, stopping a short ways away outside to linger near a bunch of trees. He didn’t want to intrude, and he had no idea what you’ve told your father about your relationship with him. 

What was your relationship with him? 

Friendly, he thought. You had always welcomed him with a smile. However there were lingering touches and stolen glances over fresh bread, conversations floating across your tongues easily. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. There was a chance you thought nothing of him, treating him as you would anyone else. 

“Suguru!” 

His head shoots up the second his name falls from your lips. 

“I apologize for making you wait.” You say, stopping short in front of him. 

You look like you got together hastily, sleep marks imbedded in your flesh with several of your hairs out of place. 

Did you know how perfect you were? 

“I wasn’t waiting long, are you ready to go?” 

Suguru smiles at the excitement spreading across your face. He knew the flowers were in bloom, but he wasn’t sure they could rival you. 

As the two of you walk, you take careful calculated steps as you notice the weather. It was sunny without being too temperamental. You could hear laughter of the village children carrying over the wind to you. Suguru listened to you as you rattled on, occasionally dropping his input, but he much preferred to listen. 

When the trees started to get thicker Suguru noticed you start to walk closer to him. It was cute, the way you looked towards him for shelter and protection. 

“I think this is where I saw them last time.” Suguru says aloud, stopping to the side and looking around. 

“They’re bright red, so they're easy to spot.” 

He sees excitement curl in your eyes at the prospect of finding some hidden treasure, even if that treasure was just flowers. 

Suguru locates them after several minutes, grabbing your hand and leading you towards it. There were several bushes laid together, all of them overflowing with the red petals. 

He smiles to himself at the gasp you let out, your fingers tentatively reaching forward to kiss the leaves. 

“Pretty, right? I always think about taking some home with me so I can plant them but I can never bring myself to do it. They look much better out here anyhow.” 

Suguru sits next to you as you stare at the bush. He finds it cute that you’re interested in his interests. If you asked, he would tell you anything you wanted to know about plants or baking. Suguru wasn’t an expert in everything, but he was an expert in those. 

“Suguru, thank you for showing me these.” Your voice trails off, still focused on what was in front of you. 

He smiles and picks a red Gardenia, careful placing it behind your ear. 

“Anytime.”

Your hand trembles as you reach up to touch the flower on your ear. The forest was silent, save for the sounds of birds and bugs, complete serenity falling over you. 

The only way Suguru’s able to tell that time is passing is by the view of the sun, now completely overhead, shining through the canopy of trees around you. Neither of you wanted to leave, so instead you lay on your backs, looking at the trees above you. The leaves and sun paint beautiful pictures, yellow shapes being shined upon your skin. 

“Hey Suguru?” 

Suguru hums, turning his head to the side to look at you. 

Your arm is outstretched, holding the flower he gave you in front of you. Your fingers are twirling it around, spinning the flower over and over. Suguru’s dizzy at the sight, but he can’t tell if it’s because of your beauty or the the spinning. 

“They say flowers have a language of their own, don't they?” 

Suguru’s lashes flit as he memorizes the lines on your face, wanting to capture this moment. 

“They do.” 

“Do you know the meanings of flowers?” 

“Some of them.” 

Suguru sits up and pulls the tie from his hair, letting the black silk cacoon him. He looks over his shoulder back at you, but you’re too preoccupied with the sight of the twirling. 

“What does this one mean?” 

Suguru ponders for a moment, unsure whether or not he should tell you. Would it come off too strong? He couldn’t bare the thought of lying to you though. He’s a strong man so he fights the urge to look away from you when he says, 

“Secret love.” 

He swears the forest ceases all sound at that moment, that or the beating of his heart is far louder than anything else. 

“Is that so?” You ask, peeking around the bright flower to look at him. 

He hums, waiting to see if you would have a negative reaction. Would you get up and leave him here, never to allow him back into your home? He wouldn’t blame you. 

A demure smile spreads across your face, sitting up until you’re laying on your elbow. You bring the flower to your face, taking in a deep breath before you sit up completely. Suguru tracks your movements carefully. 

“In that case,” you say, sliding the flower behind Suguru’s ear, the bright pop of red constrasting with his dark hair. 

Suguru swears his heart stops beating in that moment, his body completely rigid with surprise. You knew the meaning of the flower, and you were giving it to him? 

A silent understanding flows between you two, Suguru no longer on edge as the seconds pass. You both are aware now, your feelings as out in the open as they could be without physically saying it. It was funny, the flower meant secret love but his admiration for you was no longer a secret. 

“It’s a shame we can’t stay out here forever.” You say.

You lay back down, closing your eyes. 

Suguru silently agrees, leaning back until he’s laying next to you, much closer this time. He wonders what’s going to happen next. Would he be able to court you properly, would your father accept him?

He hears you shuffle around before your face pops into view, blocking out the sun above him. His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you. You looked nothing short of an Angel, golden light haloing around your head as you smile down at him. 

“I know you’re busy where you live, but why don't we meet in this forest once a week?” You say. 

“Or I can walk down and meet you closer to your village, that might be easier.” 

No, he couldn’t handle the idea of you walking these forests alone, or walking that long at all.

“Let’s meet here.” Suguru agrees, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. 

Neither of you want to be the one to look away first. So instead, you just continue to gaze into the others eyes. 

Suguru hears an older man call your name just outside the sanctity of the forest. It must be your father, and by the sounds of it he was angry. Probably upset that dinner hadn’t been made yet, if Suguru had to come up with a reason. He didn’t want to dislike your father, after all he had a hand in creating you, but he didn’t appreciate the way he treated you. 

“I suppose I’ll have to leave now…” you trail off, your voice caked in sadness. 

Suguru’s grip on your cheek tightens, and he resolves to do something he’s never done before, yet dreamed of countless times. 

He sits up and leans in, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Suguru…” You whisper, looking into his eyes, the movement of your lips tickling his. 

“May I?” Just this once, he wants to beg. Let me taste you just this once. 

He waits for an answer that doesn’t come. Instead, you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him softly. It was everything he had dreamed of. Your lips were soft, the lingering taste of the sweet strawberry jam he always brought to you mingling with his own. 

If only he could stop time. 

If only nothing existed but the two of you. 

As soon as it starts, it’s over. You’re pulling away, your eyes flickering open to look at him. He can hardly breathe under your gaze. His fingers itch with the need to grab you, press you against him, show the love he’s been feeling all this time but has been too afraid to say aloud. 

Suguru’s lips tingle as he watches you slowly rise to your feet. You dip your head in acknowledgment, tossing over your shoulder. 

“Coming, father!” 

Stay, he thinks. Stay. 

“Goodbye Suguru.” You murmur, giving him a smile. 

He watches you scamper out of the forest, feeling like you took his heart with you. 

He isn’t sure he’s ever going to want it back. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites

If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know. Please specify what you want to be tagged in such as only this series, all my works, all my jujutsu kaisen works

[pfhwrittes]

it’s mothering sunday today in the UK so i’m gonna pop down some thoughts about what tf141 get up to

(headcanons for gaz, price and soap’s immediate family below. ghost is the only one with a canon family so i’ll be sticking with that)

TW: light angst for ghost’s headcanon

price does his best to go visit his mum if he can. he’ll turn up with a fresh hair cut, his facial hair trimmed down to stubble, wearing one of the shirts she gave him for his birthday or a jumper that she says really brings out his eyes. he’s got her a box of her favourite chocolates, a bouquet of pink tulips and a tasteful card. you know this man has made lunch reservations at her favourite restaurant and he treats her like a queen for the entire day (no different from how he usually treats his mum honestly). if he can’t visit her, he’s ordered a frankly massive bouquet to be hand delivered to her with a card to apologise for missing her today. he’ll make it up to her the next time he visits. 

gaz, much like price, also tries to visit his mums if he can. he’ll coordinate the gifts with his younger brother (his brother chooses the gifts, gaz pays for them) before dropping round the night before with a huge bag of takeaway from two different places so both of his mums can have their favourite meals. he stays overnight at his mums’ house in his childhood bedroom so he can get up bright and early to make them both breakfast for mother’s day like he has done since he was 11. (he’s learned not to bring it into their bedroom now, he doesn’t need first hand evidence that his mums still enjoy a very active sex life)

soap doesn’t go up to visit his mum (and his horde of sisters and sisters-in-law) but he does spend a small fortune on flowers, gift cards, presents and cards. every single female relative of his is getting a present for mother’s day regardless of whether they’re mothers or not. he consistently out performs the other male relatives in his family (much to their chagrin) and he knows it. he’s definitely unbearably smug about it too. 

ghost would rather be left alone for mother’s day. he might go to visit his mum and beth’s grave and pop flowers on them. more often then not he just turns his phone off, ignores the telly running mother’s day adverts and reads one of beth’s favourite books. later on he’ll dig out one of the few photos he has of his mum and rubs his thumb very carefully over her smiling cheek before tucking it away somewhere safe.

[calliemity]

Orin Scrivello's Lost Head Prop: A Masterpost

Written and researched by Calliope Avery

Content Warning: Very very mild and low quality special effects gore, implied violence, uncanny valley stuff(?), Orin Scrivello's face.

Little Shop of Horrors (1986) has an unfortunate reputation of leaving a lot of really cool things on the cutting room floor. The most infamous would be the movie's original ending, a beautiful and impressive sequence of puppetry that ended up completely scrapped. However, today we're talking about a prop that never made it into the final movie in any form:

Orin Scrivello's Decapitated Head!!!

Pictured above are the only 2 photos of the prop in its original state that I can find at the moment. The left photo was taken for promotion and advertising purposes, and the right image is actually a Topps trading card! (Which I have a physical copy of, hehe!)

To put it bluntly, I am slightly (very) obsessed with this prop head. There's so much mystery around it, and everything I've managed to dig up both fascinates me and makes me very upset. So much thought and hard creative work was put into the creation of this thing, and it was left completely left out and forgotten! I desperately want more people to be aware of this, so here is my big and (hopefully) well organized masterpost on everything for your learning pleasure. Alright, let's talk about some heads!!!!!!!!!

Forming a Timeline

The earliest mention of the head can be found in an early draft of the movie script, dated February 14th, 1985. There's plenty of concepts in this script that never seemed to get past this draft, but the severed head concept was not one of them. Here, take a look!

source

This section, found on page 66 of the script, not only established the existence of the head, but also establishes the facial expression it will later take on! Clearly, this concept was good enough to be held onto once actual production started, which is good for us! If it wasn't, then this post would be a lot shorter.

Early production of the prop began after the actors were cast, as face molds of Steve Martin were created as bases for the head.

source for the left image - source for the right image

Oooo, check these guys out!!! The left one is made of plaster, and the right one is made of rubber. The website sourcing these images included a quote from Steve Martin about the casting process. Here's the full provided quote:

"These molds were taken of my head for Little Shop of Horrors. It was cast on the lot at Pinewood Studios outside of London, and I got exceedingly claustrophobic during the casting. My entire head was covered with plaster and two straws were placed in my nose for breathing. Argh." - Steve Martin

I unfortunately don't have much information about the crafting process of the prop. I'm currently trying to track down anyone who could've worked on it, but the few people I've managed to contact haven't responded to me yet. So I can't say anything concrete about who worked on it and what went into creating it. The only thing I can assume somewhat confidently is that the creation of the prop happened around the same time as filming for Orin's scenes. It would allow them to make the face molds and also match up Martin's post-mortem Orin face with the facial expression of the prop.

Here's where it starts going downhill. From what I've found, the prop was never filmed with its face toward the camera. In the workprint that I accessed from the Internet Archive, the prop appears for 2 shots, and both of them only show the back of the head. Take a look:

source - timestamp: 1:02:59

[Video description: a low quality, slightly green tinted video depicting a deleted scene from Little Shop of Horrors (1986) where Seymour is feeding the decapitated head of the dentist, Orin Scrivello, to the plant. The video starts with a man in glasses reaching into a garbage can and pulling out a dark-haired decapitated head, holding it upside-down by the fabric on its neck. The head is faced away from the camera, so only the back of its hair is visible. There are vines flailing in the foreground of the shot. The video cuts to a shot of the plant puppet laughing silently. The video cuts again to a shot of the man slowly shuffling forward while dangling the head in front and away from himself. The plant is seen on the left side, still laughing and flailing its vines. Throughout the video, there are brief flashes of light that resemble lightning. The video's audio only consists of thunder noises and an unidentifiable sound that resembles chewing noises. End ID.]

My best guess for this choice is maybe it isn't as convincing when filmed? In the photos it looks really well made and realistic, but perhaps it didn't come across that way during shots. Regardless, the head was still in the film at this point, so that counts for something!

But as you and I both know, those 2 shots were left on the cutting room floor, completely removed from the final product. The prop was left completely unused and unspoken of... except for one instance.

Remember the trading card I mentioned at the beginning? It's a part of a full set of trading cards that were made and distributed by the brand Topps. Back when the movie first came out, you could buy a pack of 5 mystery Little Shop of Horrors themed trading cards, along with a stick of bubblegum. This 44-card set is notable for featuring a lot, and I mean a LOT of images from cut movie scenes. There's photos of the original ending, there's photos from the cut sequence The Meek Shall Inhereit, and of course there's also the card featuring the prop head! However, those 2 sequences would later be rediscovered, cleaned up, and then added into the Director's Cut rerelease of the movie. The prop head wouldn't get this treatment, staying obscured, unknown, and unmentioned.

Fast forward about 30 years. A certain unused movie prop would be offered in an auction, allowing us to not only see high-quality photos of said prop in its current state, but also to allow us to know the exact materials it was made of! Without further ado, I present Orin Scrivello's decapitated head, circa 2018:

source

This absolute freak of a guy was up for auction at the "Profiles in History: Icons and Legends of Hollywood" auction on June 5th, 2018. No one ended up buying it (I would. I need to buy it actually. Please sell it to me.), but the auction gives us some absolutely divine information about the prop, such as what it's made of and its dimensions! Here's a quote from the auction website describing its materials:

"Vintage original hollow cast resin character head painted in realistic flesh tones with brown eyebrows and eyes. The 13 x 8 x 9 in. head has been polyfoam filled for stability. Exhibiting cracks to the crown, which is brittle and with other wear and age. A striking likeness of Steve Martin. In vintage good condition."

How neat! The high-resolution images allow us to see the detailed sculpting of the prop, which is still evident and impressive with its age and missing parts! The creases on the forehead, and around the mouth and eyes, the realistically colored teeth, this was clearly sculpted with a lot of attention to detail. I would've loved to have an image like this back in the prop's prime, back when it still had hair and a fresh coat of paint.

Why was it Scrapped?

This is entirely just me theorizing, but I have a feeling it's for the same reason the original ending got snubbed.

If you take the time to watch the archived workprint, you'll find a lot of cuts and changes were made that changed the tone of the whole finished project. Orin's death and dismemberment scenes got edited down a lot. Shots of him struggling and knocking things down as he falls to the ground got cut, the voiceline where he begs Seymour for help is gone. The shot where Orin's legs jolt when Seymour brings down the axe is gone too.

It's not just Orin-related scenes either! Mushnik no longer cries out for Seymour when being killed and eaten, and that's ignoring how different the scene happens in the stage musical. And obviously, the entire ending got changed so that Audrey and Seymour survive, leading to the cut of the magnificent ending sequence where all the Audrey II's destroy New York. In a way, the film got murdered and gutted of any of its real horror, with attempts to cover up any of the blood they couldn't scrub out.

In the movie's later quest to rebrand as a softer version of itself, it only makes sense that 2 shots of a decapitated head wouldn't make it. The appearance of the dismembered leg made it through, probably because it's less gruesome, but a head is... different. I obviously think it should've been kept it in, along with almost everything they trimmed from the workprint, but alas.

Tldr, they cut the head off of the movie because it wasn't funny enough.

Conclusion

This is where the information I have ends, unfortunately. I do have more research routes I would like to take, but one of them involves desperately contacting random people who I suspect could've been involved (I've tried this, I've gotten no responses from those who I've managed to find an email for), and the other route involves taking a road trip to the actual goddamn Library of Congress, which is not something I can do right now or even in the near future. So this is probably as far as I'm getting!

However! If I find anything new, this post will be updated and/or remade again, depending on how big or little the info is. For now, I think this is good enough to share, and maybe letting people know will encourage others to research this prop as well! It'll probably be easier if it's not just me, y'know.

I'll finish by saying that I think research and preservation of art like this is very important. While it's common for cool artistic things to end up cut from movies, I think preserving that those cool things existed in the first place is something worth doing. Even though this prop head was a very small part of the movie, it's clear a lot went into creating it! I feel bad that I'm not able to credit any person or people for their work, but I hope getting the word out about it will do some justice.

If you've read this whole thing, thank you so much! I appreciate your interest and I thank you for taking the time to read all this. I hope you found it as interesting and fascinating as I do!

Oh, by the way, if this post looks familiar at all, you've probably seen the original version of this post I made awhile ago. I wasn't happy with the formatting of that post, and I ended up making too many discoveries to just continue updating it. I'll keep the original up to preserve it, but reblogs will be off for it, as I want this version to be the one to go around. Thanks!

[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 5

Previously…

Denholm and Markus were on their way to their client when they discovered a bodysuit of a man who disappeared a year ago. They decided to keep the suit and see what happened to the man and how he ended up being a lifeless suit in a box from a strange janitor.

—————

“So, what are we gonna do with him?” Markus said.

“I think I should wear him.” Denholm said.

“What?? But.. that wouldn’t make sense.. A suit cannot wear another one! You might risk yourself getting hurt!”

“But I’m not fully a suit! I want to live this man’s life to give it proper closure!” Denholm argued and grabbed the suit’s legs.

“Well.. here goes nothing.” He starts putting on the suit by opening the back zipper. There, the deflated biceps of the guy became chiseled, the veins in his arms bulged out, and the legs became more bolder. As he puts on the mask, his chest started puffing out, and the perfect jawline appeared out of the face.

Sweating, he pants and turns around to Markus, and Markus was in awe.

“Did it.. did it worked?” Denholm said in a new sexy Vietnamese accent.

“Damn your voice… it’s so baritone and suave!!” Markus’ sex drive was driving him insane.

“Well he is ripped. I’m sure he spent a lot of time building this perfect bod.” Denholm said as he looked at himself in the mirror. His now black hair, brown eyes, piercings and earrings, and tattoos gleamed out.

“Ok then, you do what you gonna do to that body, I’ll just take over your student council duties for today.” Markus said as he left.

“What’s this?” Denholm noticed Markus dropped a bag with panties in it.

“But I thought he was gay…” He added while looking confused.

Denholm scourged through the guy’s memories to see what his past life had looked like. His name was Vince Long, a Vietnamese-American who was born from a wealthy family, and an alumni from the same high school as him. Vince was a top-tier student with straight-As, and to top it off, he had a hot girlfriend. They were the perfect couple, and the happiest one, until Vince suddenly disappeared.

One night after their 2nd year anniversary, Vince and his girlfriend Aurora left the restaurant at night to head home, when suddenly a white van appeared from the dark and took Vince and Aurora in. To her surprise, Aurora was spared by the men and left alone, she was left scarred and in pain to this day.

As for what happened with Vince next, Denholm couldn’t dig into any more memories, as the load must have stopped once he was turned into a full bodysuit.

“Could Aurora been also spared and left as a half-bodysuit like me?”, Denholm questioned as he looked through the pictures in Vince’s home.

It’s been a year since Vince’s disappearance , and his flat has been maintained by his family’s staff in honor of him. Denholm puts down his bag on Vince’s bed and looks in the mirror.

“You know what… maybe I should have a little bit of fun first”, Denholm says as he takes off his shirt and starts squeezing Vince’s hardening cock.

“Oohh… haven’t tried this in a while to be honest..” Denholm whispers as Vince’s sexy deep tones come out of his mouth.

“Ahh yes.. I’m Vince the engineer.. come here baby.. the fuckboy’s gonna unleash all his cum to you..” Denholm was shocked that even the way he speaks resembled very closely to Vince’s. The months long abandoned bedroom of Vince has been blessed not by holy water, but with his fresh loaded cum that hasn’t been released since 2022. Denholm lies down in bed in satisfaction as he tastes Vince’s long-expired cum.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. Denholm got dressed and answered it, and to his surprise, it was Vince’s parents, Mr and Mrs Long waiting for him. They held tight his son while they burst into tears.

“We’ve looked for you everywhere! We miss you so much!” Mrs Long said as she hugged her son.

The parents took him back to their family mansion where they had a Thanksgiving Prayer with a reading on the Prodigal Son, to celebrate’s Vince’s homecoming.

Then, Denholm filed an official statement regarding Vince’s kidnapping to help solve the people responsible for the his kidnapping and the others as well. A joint investigation took place while Denholm gave the police more details about a “bodysuit factory”.

After the party was over, Denholm went home to Vince’s place, where he saw Aurora.

“Babe… babe is that you?!?” Aurora started tearing up and ran up to him.

“I missed you so much…” ‘Vince’ said in shock while he hugged his girlfriend.

The two shared a romantic kiss and embraced each other with the reunion. For Denholm it felt like he gave Vince the closure he needed, but he cannot live as Vince forever.

Aurora made the next move. She dragged Vince up the stairs and the two started undressing.

Excited, Aurora undresses herself and undresses Vince’s long sleeve, and his tank top.

He revealed his white Calvin Klein boxers while his cock barks back at her as he starts to get very horny.

“This is… wrong.” Denholm whispered as he started grabbing the sheets. “Babe.. what do you mean? I missed you so much!!” Aurora was biting her lips.

“Your breath… your armpit hairs… your leg hairs… your Amazon rainforest in your cock… every single inch of you I am craving right now.” Aurora was starting up the engine.

“Oh I miss doing this.” Aurora said while she touches Vince’s abs. “Babe.. maybe we should slow down.” Vince tried resisting. “Oh fuck this. give me that!” Aurora ripped his boxers wide and revealed the arching cock that she’s been craving for.

Aurora then starts teasing his manhood until it did a standing ovation. They then started kissing mouth to mouth and rolled on the bed, knocking over the bed sheets.

Vince’s mouth started watering as he grabbed Aurora’s breasts to drink her milkshake. He gave her clitties a blessful kiss, and he started inserting it in. The hole kept declining though, like a debit card refusing to be read by an ATM.

She then licked his ass, with the expired butt hairs electrifying out like that one Nair video.

“Why not repair my ass? Civil engineering? Fuck that.. engineer this pussy.” She started cracking up.

“What the fuck is this woman on?” Vince started to get so scared. She then resisted him pulling away and she bited his pecs. He screamed faintly like a little girl but felt delighted and rubbed her back again.

“You know what…? Let me fold you like a fucking pretzel.” Vince grinned. She screamed out loud as he bent her back and put the funnel into the bottle opening. She screamed and screamed and screamed. They were both suffocating in each other’s saliva, cum and seemingly piss. They were banging the walls and even squeezed themselves in the closet. She was freaking out as he chased him down the halls, both naked.

They Netflix and chilled, he pulled her many times to kiss her, and she rubbed his pubic hairs like petting their Shih Tzu Tracy. It was a very immaculate and blessed moment.

They did various poses! Doggy, cowboy, missionary, and our favorite, 69. They did it and did it until they got sweaty and started panting.

Aurora slurps out Vince’s loaded manhood like she’s slurping out a big bowl of ramen. She giggles as his load explodes out of her face, and she kneels down as he starts inserting his rubbery dick into her rubbery pussy. (Hold on… rubbery pussy..?, We’ll get there later on.)

Vince was making sure the zipper at the back of his neck wasn’t opening out as he exerts extra pressure against Aurora in bed. They both giggle as Aurora licks Vince’s smooth sweaty abs and she starts biting them. Vince screamed out but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected, it felt like he got bit by a dog while wearing a silicone rubber pants.

“Let’s do it again.” Aurora said while running out of breath. They initiated their sacred rituals again and again throughout the whole night. Fuck me ‘til up daylight indeed.

As Vince and Aurora finally covered themselves under the sheets, they both rest and as they cuddle each other, not knowing something behind there was opening up. Let me turn it into a saying, Don’t leave the fridge open at night.

Both drenched in sweat, Vince goes to the bathroom to get toilet paper to clean up the exploded fluids in his room. But something was wrong. The zipper opened a little bit, and was stuck.

Aurora then discovered this and just stood there as if she knew this whole time that he was a bodysuit.

“Babe.. it’s not what it looks like.. I promise.” Vince was in shock and started shaking.

“I- um.. I no… no..” Aurora was also nervous. she turned around to look away, but then it was another jaw-dropping moment: her zipper was also opened, she thought it wouldn’t get exposed but the bra she had just put on wasn’t enough to conceal it.

“What…?? WHAT?!?” Vince tried grabbing Aurora’s arm but she ran as fast as she could and fled the scene.

Denholm chased her down to the garage, but the bodysuit was starting to melt as the zipper had been exposed. He tried unzipping himself a few more tries, and managed to get out of Vince’s body.

Denholm now ran to the garage door but Aurora had locked it. Denholm tried breaking in, using everything he had on the house to reach the inside.

Denholm figured out that he could simply open the front garage doors and catch her in the act, so he pushed the button and the front garage lifted upward and he rushed inside, but it wasn’t what he was expecting, never at all expected what it was.

He took a step closer but to his surprise, Markus was there, seemingly apprehending the now-empty Aurora suit.

“Markus what the fuck are you doing here?!??” Denholm freaked out.

“I.. I don’t know! I just found this body snatcher somewhere and I followed her to this home! I didn’t know this was your bodysuit’s home!” Markus said.

“Dang it. FUCKKKKK!!!!!” Denholm let out a very loud scream as he started kicking the nearby objects. He was angry. He was FURIOUS.

“I think this suit is also like you, Denholm. I think she was also spared because she’s not hollow right now, she has a pulse.” Markus said.

“Well we better drive her home safely then. I’ll also take home Vince and keep it in our property.” Denholm said as he started the car to head home.

As he headed out, a nervous grin and a blush came out of Markus.

“I wonder if he’ll ever know…”

(17 Hours earlier…)

Aurora: “Yes, yes that would be 45.99 for the jeans.”

Customer: “Ok, I’m paying by credit. I really love your local boutique!”

Aurora: “Thank for you shopping here! This boutique means a lot to me as me and my late boyfriend invested a lot on it!”

Markus then walks in while wearing a face mask and sunglasses.

Aurora: Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique— AHHHHHH!!!

Aurora let out a loud scream and passed out.

Markus: Welcome.. and goodbye bitch.

Markus laughed maniacally as he lifted Aurora and unzipped her back, which transformed her into a bodysuit.

He then started sliding his legs into her more smaller ones, causing a huge stretch on the suit. Her body also expanded wide as Markus’ masculine torso squished in to fill in the void. Soon once Markus put on the mask, the suit realigned and formed itself: The legs started to shrink into a more feminine physique, and the waist significantly decreased and compressed Markus’ body. It was uncomfortable for him but it was all worth it. His new breasts also grew out to his desire. Markus looks into the store’s mirror.

“Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique!” He said in a new feminine high-pitched voice.

“Hey Vince.. hey baby… hey… Denholm.”

She said while she seductively stares into her reflection, and giggled. She packed up her stuff and left to go to Vince’s place.

— TO BE CONTINUED —

[chipchopclipclop]

i just started rewatching soul eater for the first time since i was 15 and Stein is so much more interesting to me than he was then... what are ur soul eater thoughts chip if youre willing to share

i did not experience soul eater as a wee youth, the first time i watched (and then read it) was 4 years ago (give or take) so i do not have the beautifully tinged nostalgia for the series others might. i say this only bc it colours my thoughts of the series pretty well lmao.

the anime is alot better than the manga just by virture of bones' animation being incredible but also its like 40% less painfully fucking horny (though still is its shounen) and the way some of that plot goes in the second half is so fucking bad in the manga (though not all, but god). It's not like the anime gets rid of everything like that stupid ass argument black star has with maka still makes me want to murder him but ultimately i like the anime and its writing more. i think my minds canon is just a meld of parts i like from both lol.

ohkubo is also just on my top ten list of mangaka i need to actually kill like hes a solid #3 on the needs to die list. his designs and art improvement were fun to watch and i do love halloween world and his toony stuff, undeniably bangs, but you can really tell by the end where his transformation into horny moe artist came from. sometimes i see people shocked by this and soul eater not's existence and i have to think did we read the same fucking manga...??

sorry i needed to get my bitching out before talking about stein. i love stein. so many things wrong with him. he is 70% of the reason i got around to watching it and 95% of the reason i kept reading it. i think how expressive he is is alot of his charm, like he does alot of moe body language you might not expect of his type of chara.

hes #crazy and #madscientist and #edgy and #insaneasylum but also very silly and whimsical... kind of emblematic of the world of soul eater at large actually, this is also alot of the other characters appeal in this universe too (DEATH THE KID).

he's obsessive, hes empathetic, hes also sadistic, hes got a screw in his head, megane, fun with kids, perfect man. hes also got both an equal capacity for getting worse and better in him which can be fun to think about in either direction, and you've got characters that do influence him either way for that in the series. im also kind of remembering clicking the screw in his head is to help somewhat deal with his mental state actually, king of the disability aid...(?)

you can treat his character very seriously or lightheartedly, i think the writing in both versions maintains that balance well. It also makes everyone else who actually sticks around him somewhat deranged too (the fact he did surgery on spirit at school but spirit still interacts like pretty normally at work with him after meeting again. lmfao. THEY WENT DRINKING TOO) the fact he still calls spirit senpai also is so funny. its like 40% a dig at him but also 60% genuine. i hate gay people btw.

i like the thought that he was more stoic when he was younger but as he got older stopped trying to hide his eccentricities as much, and became more expressive lol. younger stein to me is a guy screaming in his head 247 but looking like 😐 while spirit stares at him trying to decipher what his eyelid twitching today means.