#ugh my baby
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fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency · 3 months ago
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fuku. can i get out? nap over?
- @pms-white-reaper
*he's in the kitchen away from the monitor. He doesn't hear him*
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alcqraz · 14 days ago
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★ summary — after yet another tough loss in the australian open, y/n finds solace within her boyfriend. ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a. carlos being a cutie patootie? ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 3.2k ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff. it's carlos. what do you expect? ★ authors note: for the girls! i really need to write some x male!reader for myself... ben drabble coming next and then we go from there. also ugh, he's so cute i love him so much. after 6 decades, 4 redbulls and 25 million complaints, you shalt recieve whatever the hell this monstrosity is... i apologize, this is terrible. ⠀⠀⠀❛⠀⠀ @yungbludz ; @csainzcalcaraz ; idk who else to tag.
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Bitterness was an odd sort of sensation. It wrapped around the heart within a warp of seamless, thick fog- the cold tendrils seeping into the crevices of positivity that she deemed to find after such a loss. It whispered to Y/N in moments where she stood in front of the media, rumbling off a number of responses given by her public relations manager. One for which she believed to have almost no effect upon her relationship with the public. It lingered, like some sort of lurking shadow amongst the thoughts that crowded her back of mind as the reality delved deep into her bones. As the media had swooped down as vultures and ripped her performance apart with each piece of mindless critique that, most of the time, could be said to have been terribly wrong.
She’d known the drill. Exchanging hands with the devil within every turn that crossed her path, with every early round exit that haunted her presence as she packed up to head towards the next tournament. One which would lead to the abiding taste of victory or once again; bitterness. It followed her every step, with every ground stroke, with every serve missed. It was only when the umpire would shout out the words- game, set match; followed by a name that was not hers, would she realize. It settled in slowly; similar to the dust that set on the shelves after being unused for far too long, and eventually did she finally feel the truth of it all. 
Australia seemed to disdain her existence as a whole. Y/N had decidedly chosen to believe so after a handful of upsets. Within the premises of a place far too beautiful to be spiteful, does she drown within her sorrows of the match. The Australian Open always rubbed like salt within her wounds, lost matches after lost matches, and she wondered to herself what she could possibly be doing wrong with her career. It was not as if it were common. Undoubtedly, Y/N would lose; just as the greatest to ever have played the game had done so before, but within the years that passed by, it only tended to happen with a good run. Perhaps losing upon the semi-finals or the finals could be regarded as a wider received upset, however the expectation that crawled upon her skin with every waking moment only pressured her further to go for a deeper run.
And yet, as the sun dipped lower upon the evening-lit sky, it sank deep within the horizon as such a carefully crafted and cared for gold coin slipping into the darkened waves of the ocean. Casting hues of colors that in any other situation, Y/N would find extraordinary. What was not to appreciate a good sunset for? But it was not the stunning beauty of the sunset that plastered her thoughts, and to her utter surprise and relief, was also not the stalling weight of the loss. Instead, her mind subconsciously drifted to the Spaniard that she knew would be waiting upon her arrival. 
Carlos was never one short of a support system for Y/N. In a sort of way, she wonders faintly what she would do without his constant encouragement and advocacy. Who would be there for her after such a loss? Who would be the one to woefully wrap their arms around her as she doubted her ability, the one who would whisper sweet nothings into her ears until she truly believed it? Y/N knew that she couldn’t escape it again this time, despite the need to potentially be alone for multiple hours before truly being in a mindset to talk to others without resulting in a bout of tension due to snappy answers. 
She knew that he would’ve watched the match. Sitting atop his hotel room bed in which she had fallen asleep in for many days beforehand, never daring to book a shared room due to the fear of being caught by, not his team, but others. News outlets, reporters- those who would do nothing less than to dwell low for an eye-catching title. Sprawled across the sheets, she could imagine him, his mouth pursed into a tight line; not at the loss, but at the disappointed glances the camera would’ve caught with ease. He never cared for her results, not in that sense, but in the sense of that he would not judge her for an early round exit such as today. The only thing that mattered to him would’ve been what she had felt- frustration, agitated, disappointed, seemed to all be on the table on this fateful night.
And in a certain light, she looked forward to those tender moments. The feeling of a ripple of being loved and appreciated within an ocean of critical and in times, cruel comments that had been made of her. For her tennis, her looks, her image; there always appeared to be something to grumble about albeit it be for the tiniest, most inconspicuous things. Carlos always shook his head, his head of grown hair shaking in such a way that was endearing to Y/N. He’d reach over, gently plucking the phone from his hands although unable to hide his pique of interest in what his girlfriend so… encapsulated. He’d learnt quickly that it was never good in instances as such. 
There would be some form of tension as the Spaniard would look up, an odd frown stretching across his face. It never fit him right- frowning, it just didn’t feel right, like a human in an animal enclosure. Unbelonging. Conceivably, it was because she was used to his bright, joyous and up-lifting grin, that goofy smile that could assault a ray of light upon the darkest of days. Seeing the opposite of it was unfathomable. There would be a mumble of words, half mixed with Spanish as he would set the phone down, an arm slowly easing up to provide a source of comfort. 
Arguably, the drive back to the exquisite hotel in which she had been assigned could be determined to be the longest and shortest drive she’d ever experienced. The driver made no attempt to start a conversation in any variation, instead decidedly for the better, kept his mouth tightly shut. Y/N had assumed that one not so nice glance, which- for the record, she did not mean to give, shut him up real quick as from a viewpoint, he looked fairly friendly. Like the sort of person to make small talk with strangers without making either party feel vastly uncomfortable. She’d never gotten out of a place faster in her life. Mumbling out a soft thank you, because if honesty was policy, it was the least she could do after such a drive.
She was thankful that at least the hotel had a welcoming atmosphere, the constant chatter of guests that could care less of her arrival. Or even better, did not recognize her for who she was. Her team had followed back within another car, not that Y/N had requested so, but it felt more of a moral perception. They knew what to leave things at, and she could come to appreciate having a group of people that understood. Within the dynamic lighting in the building, she could vaguely make out one of the tournament cars pulling into the entrance. 
Hauling the bag that slung across a singular shoulder, and quietly adjusting the hanging strap, Y/N stumbles her way back towards her room. The hallway stood eerily silent, the usual foreigner- or group of foreigners had either disappeared into the night, taken an early exit, or drunk on a dance floor. The latter, she had assumed. Notionally, it would’ve been far better than having to be questioned by the eyes of another guest, making polite small-talk as the elevator shuddered and picked up its pace. They’d wish her luck, not knowing the slaughter that had happened on court not even hours before. 
A part of Y/N wants to immediately head over to Carlos’s room. To drop everything and melt within his strong arms, to go home. But she knew better than to show up at his front door, sweaty, pissed off and with an arm load of bags. And so she resisted, grumbling a number of curses as she punched in the floor that her suite had been on, waiting as the elevator whirred to its heart's content. It feels far too long, the walk back grudging and slow, with every drag of her foot feeling as she were walking through puddles of wet concrete. Perhaps it was the exhaustion after a match dwelling down, or perhaps it’s the mental aspect of everything- Y/N never could truly pinpoint this feeling, despite the half-hearted attempts at understanding.
Her bags are carelessly strewn across the floor, allowing her jacket to fall upon one of the unused chairs of her suite. The room is big; far too big for a single person living in it, and whilst Y/N had admired the spaciousness of the area when she had first arrived, now it had felt more despondent than ever. Even showering felt enervating, too hot for a minute, then too cold for another, and she wonders how such an expansive hotel could reserve for a lavish waterfall in its lobby, yet not have enough for a capable showerhead. She had to admit though, she’d felt better after such a shower, muscles relaxing and the stench being wafted away within a moment's notice. It feels as if she’d done it a million times, coming back after a match, trying to take a relaxing shower before she was to be grilled by her coach for the next. It felt more of a simulation, as if things were repeating itself over and over again, like a clock resetting after every twelve hours. The only time that would differ would be around Carlos, the Spaniard making time feel irrelevant to the universe, until it was only them that mattered. Nothing else, nothing more.
It’s always for that reason she found herself back in this position, new comfortable clothing that hung loosely around her shoulders, hair up for it to dry faster. There would be no makeup involved, she’d known Carlos for long enough that she knew he could not care for what she looked like in these moments. Instead, worrying about further issues. It’s almost embarrassing how many times she found solace within him, as he would finally open that god damn door to his hotel room, that stupid smile that could light up the entire town, the way he never seemed less excited to see Y/N no matter how many times he’d actually seen her. He was so… how could he be so… she never grasped at how or why, never could comprehend. It never changed. 
“Y/N?”
Carlos peers curiously, eyes glinting with a sort of inquisitiveness no one else could replicate. That look, the one that Y/N could never get used to, one that shone like the moon upon a dim evening sky. “Estas bien?”His words cut through the uttered silence, his head cocking to the side like a mackerel. For a moment, she profoundly forgot where she was, taking more than just a second to process the Spaniard’s words.
Her eyelids flutter, open and shut, shut then open, as if trying to clear a haze that had clouded her vision. Deliberately, she let her head sway from one side to another, strands of hair falling from the elastic that held her hair together. “Oh, uh-” She stumbles over her words, as if she were suddenly at a loss, a lump forming cautiously within the midsts of her throat. “Yes, yeah- I’m fine, estoy bien.” The words feel jumbled as it comes out of her mouth, as if she hadn’t spoken in many years before advancing her way towards Carlos.
He looks around, protruding his head from the frame of the wooden door, as if he were searching for something, or perchance, it was looking out for her. When he had decidedly chosen that the coast could be deemed as clear, Carlos gently ushers Y/N in, a hand swiping behind her back and brushing her into the room. It’s far messier than her room, as well, Carlos was Carlos and old habits die hard, but it feels much more of a humble abode. The smell of Carlos wafts airly within the room, like a warm, familiar embrace, dancing lightly throughout the suite. It wraps around like a fuzzy blanket, easing the tension that spooked through her veins, allowing her to sink into a contraption of intimacy. 
Carlos’s mouth opens, as if he were to say something, but he hesitates wearily. Y/N is sure that it’s because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, that would rub her in the wrong way. The thought stings a little, knowing that Carlos felt as if he couldn’t say what he truly thought to her without the fear of retaliation. “No estuvo mal.” He says the words slowly, dragging across his tongue, syllable by syllable. “Te veías bien.”
There’s a hint of truth that comes with his words, Carlos didn’t enjoy lying, especially to her, Y/N quickly realized soon into their relationship. He knew of the pain of hearing those around him lying of how he played- good or bad. He discerned, to only speak of the truth. Yet he also, deep down, fathomed that she would not believe what he said despite the sincerity. Knew that it was a battle already lost, and there was not much he could do about it other than whisper caring endearments until the discomfort of the loss passed. 
“It didn’t feel good.” She responds, not quite a snap back to Carlos, but more of a defense mechanism to protect herself. 
“Losing does not feel good ever, yes?” His words are coated with an accent, one that she found more endearing than anything else. The attempt was enough to fill a crack of her heart with warmth, and it only grows further as Carlos takes a couple steps in to enfold his arms around Y/N, in a well meant attempt to shield her from any negative critiques or thoughts. “Pero eso no significa que no fuera bueno, ¿verdad?”
She knew what was to come. Knew the little spiel of words he had crafted carefully within his mind. He would remind her of the positives. Of how it could do more good than bad, and that it was just a single tournament in an ocean of others. She would come back, win the next title, and all would be forgotten as the media turned back to the bouts of adoration for her antics and play style. 
Carlos sighs, shaking his head in such a manner of disappointment. “Ven aqui.” He mumbles softly, his words barely breaking the silence that touched the room. He takes a few purposeful steps toward the bed, tugging her alongside him. His touch lingers, a gentle pressure that presses Y/N against the comfortable mattress in a way that feels tender and intimate, exuding a warmth and familiarity that only Carlos could convey to her. It’s a moment cuddled with unspoken connection, where every brush of his hand spoke volumes of the devotion he felt.
There was nothing she would want more, nothing that could comfort her in such a way that it made the whole world feel at peace. He could make her forget in a number of ways, but this- his body pressed up against hers, breath hot against her skin as he tangled them into a spooning position. It feels as if heaven were on Earth, the sensations greater than whatever pleasure tennis could bring to her. “Todo va a estar bien, si?” Carlos whispers, carrying not only a sense of warmth but tinged with secrecy as well. A sacred space that only withled the two of them, with no allowed space for others. A fleeting moment, that has Y/N’s heart thumping within her body.
“Maybe if you’re always here after I lose in straight sets.” 
Her response isn’t biting, it’s not bitter as she would’ve expected it to be. Perhaps it was because he found it nearly impossible to act so rudely towards Carlos. He smiles though, in an answer, his lips stretching lazily into that stupid, stupid grin. “Siempre estaré aquí para ti, amor.” Carlos says, lips just tracing over the lobes of her ears, and for a moment, Y/N shuddered at the touch- so intimate and close, so indescribable. His fingers lay on her delicate skin, one that had been soaked upon sweat just hours ago, and it feels as if the area had been set on fire. His touch warm and fascinating, his lips soft and ginger as he slowly bestows a kiss on her own. 
It’s a feeling Y/N would never be able to shake off no matter how many times it happened. The elusive tingle that tinged up her spine, then throughout her bones, every nerve as if it had been lit on fire. The way his hands slowly caresses her face, not intruding and not pushing for anything further, just to have her in such a way that only the luckiest woman in the world could imagine to have. And when he pulls away, it leaves Y/N yearning for more, eyes trying to convey a message of need and desire. But Carlos is quick to shake his head, and although dismay aligns across his features, he’s firm about it. 
“Descansa un poco” He murmurs, turning so that Y/N would lay on the mattress in a manner that he knew she’d prefer to anything else. Likewise, she was tired. In spite of everything- the match, the weight of the loss, the media that gawked, their smirks playing along their faces as she spoke, every word a better headline for them, in a fashion of twisting her own words and using them to stab her against the back. It was, perhaps, the worst part of tennis, one that Y/N wished she could evaporate with a snap of her fingers. But she could not, she did not have the power to do so, and it was not as if it would be of any use if she had tried. 
With a defiant huff of a breath, she tried to ease the restlessness that lodged between her bones, letting her eyes fall shut, easing into an acquainted darkness. With the pressure of Carlos around her, the soft breathing that snuck in and out, sweeping across her right ear, Y/N mitigates into a calming state of bliss. One in which she only found moments like these, where she did not have to shine as a radiant poster boy, where she could finally just let herself be. And during that interval where she felt not quite asleep, yet not awake either, she smiles to herself, knowing that for one, she could rest easy for the time being. That she was safe, within the consolation of home. 
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moonfulmoony · 2 months ago
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guys im not ready to let him go:(
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willo-ly · 7 months ago
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Everyone commenting on @nikkicafeina ‘s post about wrestler!Gideon and Rhea Ripley is to blame for this drawing.
Rhea is hot and very much Gideon, so I used one of her photos as a reference. 👀
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captaindysdexic · 7 months ago
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YES, YES YES
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I have been waiting for this notice since CN released this update. MY CHILDREN WILL COME HOME!! (About 110 pulls total)
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cirie-sandra-michaela · 3 months ago
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CEDRIC NOOOOOO
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prowerprojects · 2 years ago
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I can't believe I got to be Tails's sidekick, and he was so sweet and supportive and uplifting this is the greatest game ever made 10/10
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ilovemutantturtles · 5 months ago
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Idgaf about hun or the others but 87 raph definitely deserved better in this movie😭
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mattspoetdepartment · 2 years ago
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No don’t get me started because the way Karen treated him was so foul but the way he treated Mandy…. 🙃
NO BUT EXACTLYYYY
I’m rewatching it and I always wanna skip this era cause I can’t stand to see him he so obsessed with her 💀💀💀
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timaeusterrored · 2 years ago
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🌸~SFW Questions for Vax~🌸
🌸Favorite candy
🌸Favorite drink, non-alcoholic
🌸Favorite video game
🌸Favorite place to have a romantic date
🌸What is Kerry's favorite thing about him?
🌸What is his favorite snack food?
🌸What is his favorite outfit to wear?
🌸What is his favorite outfit that Ker and Venus wears?
🌸What's a cozy outfit for him?
🌸What is his favorite cozy game or movie?
🌸Who's more romantic, Ker, Vax, or Venus?
🌸What is his favorite season?
🌸What cheers him up instantly when he's down?
I knew I could count on you🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💓
-Favorite Candy: KitKats! Probably the dark chocolate ones
-Favorite drink- nothing like a classic coke to hit the spot
-Video Game: He and Jackie used to play Mortal Kombat a lot when they lived together, and I think Vik got him into it as a teen. Maybe he passed that love onto Ted
-Romantic date place: Kerry’s Yacht! He loves being on the water and the sound is really calming to him, and he and Kerry always find some of the best food to eat on those nights
-What’s Kerry’s favorite thing about him? His patience. During the whole Us Cracks thing and just in general, Vax is nothing but patient with him and listens to him and takes him seriously. When he’s ranting and looks over, Vax is giving him his full attention on the matter.
-Snack Food: SunChips🥰 they’re his favorite kind of chip
-Favorite Outfit: This comfy little number when he’s got a day off but is married to a rockstar and has to stay discreet
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Favorite outfits on Ker and Venus:
Kerry: Listen the white button up unbuttoned completely and golden jewelry really gets Vax going
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Venus: Vax LOVES Venus pulling out the Cowboy aesthetic vibes and rocking it completely. He looks so good at all times
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Cozy Outfit for Vax: I COULDNT FIND A PICTURE BUT JE REALLY LIKES WEARING LIKE SHORT SHORTS AND SWEATERS ON COZY DAYS BECAUSE ITS RAINING AND FUCK THAT HES NOT GOING OUTSIDE
Cozy game or movie: Mmmmmmmm I feel like Kerry would get him into Lord of the Rings (totally not projecting those are my favorite cozy movies)
-Whos more romantic: Kerry 100%, he loves taking the boys on romantic dates and vacations
-Favorite season: Winter!! He lives in Night City so it’s always warm there, so Kerry takes him somewhere cold for Christmas and he loves seeing the snow
-Instant cheer up: Kerry singing the boat song to him. He lays his head in his lap and let’s him sing and it’s so nice and makes him feel better
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ask-feedees-jikook · 2 years ago
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*crawls over with his belly hanging down. Gives big pleading eyes. Sets his head in your lap. Begs.*
Koooookie~ please feed me and rub my belly as I fatten up for you~ Puppy is /begging/ for it~ please!
*He blinks and chuckles, reaching to run his fingers through your hair*
You are literally the cutest. Of course I'll feed you and give you belly rubs baby~
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liliaceae-x · 5 months ago
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my cat finally sleeps on the bed with me, i could cry
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tortiefrancis · 1 year ago
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[ ID: A digital, stylized, looping animated gif of Michael Afton, from Five Nights at Freddy's, as a red fox, wagging his tail. He has his front paws on the ground and his hind paws raised. He has medium length, straight, dark ginger hair and wears a gray vest with cut off sleeves and light gray shorts. /End ID ]
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Haha
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ecstarry · 2 months ago
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i love petty and a bit obsessive james potter like yes he did just push someone to get to class first and sit next to regulus but what he doesn't know is that reg is the exact same just more discreet
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silusvesuius · 3 months ago
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baby👶 drawings. these are very dear to me rn.. 2nd pic is my Nelavis with @barvin0k's Varonur 🩵 last one is a baby bosmer and snow elf, hairiest of them all. although the bosmer was meant to be my girl Barletta too lols
#tes#skyrim#my art#oc#nelavis#barletta#😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔 babies are so sweetum ugh my heart is crumbling rn#referenced some anne g*ddes stuff for dis#i call them snow elves instead of falmer like g*lebor would want me to#i never really get to talk about my elf anatomies at length cus i'm lazy but i sprinkled some info in the first pic#altmer society is EugenicsLand so you could only tell if your child has 'good' traits when they hit puberty#ex. height and shoulder width is something very important to them#if you don't have those traits ur pretty much a failure#other elves have it easier 🤓#idk i still might make some kinda infographic for the way i picture them but umm maybe not who knows#on snow elves and bosmer the fur is still 'confused' when they're in baby stage and is pretty much everywhere#it evens out w/ age and stays on the back; neck; sides of face the most and in places where human body hair wud be#idk ummm..and i think all elves grow their nails out unless they're very intertwined with humans in their life#ex. my snelf elisif; she has her nails trimmed to be regarded as more human i guess#nails are most important to altmer tho and might be a status symbol of some kind... they like using them in combat too#it's shameful for an altmer to not have long nails for any reason but there can be exceptions#like my el*nwen that can't physically grow nails out because of burn injury#so she has fake ones on her combat gloves#it's cute#elf nails aren't as frail as human nails and are more like an animals claws (corny) but bosmers' are the sturdiest#and their nails are curved in shape. for U know. Climbing and stuff#cause dunmer and altmer etc. have straight nails. they can hit the nail salon
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togament · 5 months ago
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You’ve always known Ume’s great with kids. With the way he’s always so playful with them, so helpful with whatever they might need — it’s like they’ve got a big brother in him. And it’s true to some extent. He sees everyone in Makochi as family, after all.
So when you spot him cradling a shop owner’s newborn baby in his arms, it doesn’t surprise you. Even babies love him. No surprise there.
But when he coos at the little one so gently, gazing down at them like one of his own, letting them grab his finger with their tiny hands, you feel your heart flutter. You walk over to stand beside him, stunned with your heart absolutely melting at the sight.
He turns to meet your gaze with the brightest smile on his face as he makes the baby give you the tiniest, most precious wave. You give them both a tiny wave back. Leaning towards you to give you a kiss on the crown of your head, he whispers an “I love you” into your scalp. You could only muster a soft hum in response, leaning your cheek on his shoulder with your arm wrapped around his waist, reaching a finger out for the baby to hold too.
And he understands. Maybe someday it’ll be one of your own in his arms.
‘Our kid someday’, he thinks to himself.
Someday.
Maybe someday.
౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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