#with the wisps framing the moon

[halfbit]

me staring at this stupid ai website google led me to while i was trying to find references/tutorials. incoherently. tempted to log into instagram again just to get inspiration from my old horror art mutuals but i also do not care about digging up my password again and i wouldn't be surprised if some of them have moved stuff off there by now

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・0.6k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・lee know x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship. lazy kisses & mutual obsession. / 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲・for my @rachalixie: you've done well today (♡´ ˘ `)⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

𝟭𝟴:𝟮𝟮 — There’s a certain novelty to experiencing something for the first time.

Sure, the magic lives on as your love for the thing grows, but no sensation will quite beat out the first time the opening riff of your favorite song hits your ears, the flavor of your favorite fruit splashing onto your tongue, the climax of your favorite film rendering you a sobbing mess in a public theater.

But you walk into your room one Saturday afternoon to glance at the man lying face-up on the bed you share, scrolling absentmindedly with a mackerel tabby curled into his side. Cordate, coral lips that you know by now feel like satin and taste like home, catlike eyes framed by thick lashes that could run makeup conglomerates into ruin; perfect, prim nose and chiseled, angular jaw, strong and sharp enough to draw blood should you run your finger along the pretty perimeters.

You clamber onto the mattress as delicately as you can. Not delicately enough, by Dori’s standards. The cat tosses you a disgruntled look before landing noiselessly onto the hardwood, departing from the room in search of his less disruptive siblings.

Moments later, Minho’s phone is face-down somewhere out of reach; you are straddling his waist and leaning over him, your hands cradling his face so tenderly they’re barely there. You come close enough for wisps of your hair to catch onto the delicate curves of his lashes, for the tip of your nose to bump against his like a greeting from a butterfly.

His soft laugh puffs against the seam of your lips like a breath of your own. “What’s the matter with you?”

He threw the curtains aside and cracked the windows open earlier, letting into the room a shower of late-afternoon sun. It now dyes his skin a dewy caramel, lightens his eyes to pools of molten amber. For some time, you are unable to respond, enraptured by all the wonder that he holds. 

Eventually, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, dip down, rid of the distance between you with a soft seal of your mouth his. He doesn’t move until he’s overcome his surprise, but then he brings one hand to your waist, slipping beneath the sheer fabric of your top to press your hips down onto his, and wraps the other around the base of your neck, the pad of his thumb settling over your jugular like a gossamer wing.

You sigh in pleasure and part your lips; he pursues this opening with a fervor, pliant tongue keeping your mouth ajar, head tilting to one side to better savor you, your teeth knocking and limbs entwining in this passionate fray.

By the time you come up for air, the world around you has changed. You’re underneath him now, his hands positioned on either side of your head. His eyes are no longer amber but obsidian, his mouth ravaged and raw in the aftermath of colliding time and time again with yours. The sun has largely vanished beneath the skyline.

You collect yourself just enough to procure an answer to his question.

“Every time I look at you feels like the first,” you whisper.

Minho doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe in spite of how you’d just kissed the air straight from his lungs, doesn’t believe his ears. For that is the exact way he feels about you, always has been and always will, though you have always been the one to first verbalize the feelings that he doesn’t have the words for.

For some time, he is unable to respond, enraptured by all the wonder that you hold.

Eventually, he combs a hand through his hair, dips down, rids of the distance between you with a hard crash of his mouth upon yours, and there the two of you will remain until it’s no longer light from the sun that sets your room aglow, but that of the moon and a hundred thousand stars.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[kingkatsuki]

Old man Bakugou (who isn’t even that old, but god I want him)

Warnings: 18+, retired!Pro-Hero Dynamight, Bakugou is 50, reader is like half his age or more or less idc but Bakugou is older.

Bakugou retires at fifty. It’s much younger than a lot of other heroes that have paved the way for him, and yet he’s accomplished so much that it’s time for him to step aside for the future Pros. The ones that still have so much drive and energy, and are ready to conquer their dreams just like he was.

It gives up a place in the top five rankings for another younger, keen Pro-Hero to take his place. But of course Dynamight is still popular, and he’s still got a loyal fan base that continue to adore him even into his retirement.

Bakugou is still recognised when he goes out to restaurants and coffee shops, full of people trying to grab his autograph or share stories of how they grew up with him and watched him reach number one.

And then there’s you— he meets you one night at a bar when he’s nursing a beer, trying to adjust to having a free schedule instead of protecting the city. And he can’t help but notice the way your eyes glisten when you notice him, leaning against the bar beside his stool as you tilt your head inquisitively.

“No way, you’re Dynamight? My mom used to love you.”

And once again Bakugou is reminded of just how old he is, his blond hair now mixed with wisps of silver, the thick stubble that frames his jaw well on its way to being a beard, his muscular chest now curved with soft pudge and blond hairs and his back aches as he sits on the barstool.

“She had the biggest crush on you when she was younger,” You take a seat beside him as you sip at your own drink, “Had posters and figures up of you and everything.”

Bakugou doesn’t know how it happened— or why a pretty young thing like you wants anything to do with him. He’s gotta be twice your age, maybe more— but the casual conversation continues and you’re practically leaning into him now, pretty eyes glazed over as you stare down at his lips.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck an old man,” You tease, but you should be careful what you wish for, “Can you even still get it up?”

Bakugou reckons he should have you over his knee for that comment alone, but that’s all it takes for him to have his beer bottle slamming down onto the bar as he grabs you by the wrist.

Barely ten minutes later Bakugou has your knees pushed up to your chest inside the dingy dive bar bathroom. Your knickers bunched around them to keep your thighs together as he rams his thick, hard cock inside your tight cunt. The ferocity of his thrusts unlike anything you’ve felt before and you’re certain you can feel him in your lungs. Your naive hole squelches around him, your essence leaking out of you and soaking his heavy balls as the only words that leave your lips now are incoherent babbles. Your hands cling to him for some semblance of reality, painted nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in his forearms. Your grip rough enough to break his skin and join the multiude of scars that already marr his body.

Your head knocks against the mirror with each cant of his hips but you could care less. The pleasure surging through your veins has your mind hazy, his hulking body practically folds you in two as he looms over you, burying his cock inside you to the hilt as you feel so full.

You’re positive you look debauched. Your pretty lipstick ruined as it’s smeared across your lips and cheeks, certain you’re drooling down your chin as he fucks you within an inch of your life. It’s nothing like the inept men around your own age you’d been with before. With age comes experience, and you’re certain you see heaven when a calloused thumb slips between your bodies to press against your puffy clit.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” He groans, “This old man’s gonna have you gushin’ all over his cock.”

[soft-girl-musings]

Salt & Pepper

Moon Knight System x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for teasing, domestic fluff, author does not condone touching people's hair without permission, no use of Y/N

wc: 1,078

fic summary: Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

A/N: i might have a problem lol

_____________________

“Put. It. Down.”

Marc Spector does not startle easily. So when he nearly falls from his perch beside the bathtub, you’re surprised you have to steady him.

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Marc picks up the towel and small cardboard box he’d dropped because of your outburst.

Shifting your focus, you zero in on the latter: hair dye, just as you’d suspected.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m away?” You tut, cradling his temples and shaking your head. "What happened to you?" 

"What? Nothing, I'm-"

"-I wasn't talking to you," you sigh, resting your forehead against the crown of his head. "How long has he been treating you like this, you poor things?"

“Ha-ha.”

You release his face to study it. "But seriously, how long have you been dying your hair?”

 “... For a couple of years. Started to turn gray from stress a while back, and I guess it never stopped.” He fidgets with the loose edge of the container.. “You really never noticed?”

You take the box and set it beside him. “You hid it well.”

You’re not judging him for dying his hair, it’s just… surprising. Marc’s never been one to fuss over his appearance, as far as you could tell. When you first saw his closet, you’d half expected it to be lined with the same outfit ten times, like in a cartoon. Most days, “dressing up” means adding a jacket or blazer.

 “Since when do you care? About your hair, I mean.” 

He shrugs. “I’m not gettin’ any younger, honey.”

“Neither am I.” You kiss the bridge of his nose. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Goes double for me, don’t you forget it.” Leaning in, Marc tries for another kiss, but you duck and grab the hair dye before turning away with a mischievous smirk.

“Gotta keep you honest,” you wink and dart out of the room before he can catch you.

_____________________

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.”

You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his morning tour but had gotten distracted. Very distracted.

“Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.”

Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp.

“It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his.

Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips.

“Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

There’s no denying the heat rising to his cheeks when you talk. “This– you don’t–” Steven caves and sets his book down, hopelessly flustered. “Either go away or get over here. Cheeky.”

He makes room for you to settle into his lap, which you giddily accept. Your hands sink back into his curls and he shivers as you scratch his scalp.

“Did I ever tell you I had a thing for my professor, once upon a time?”

“Oh my days–” 

You’re not sure who kisses who, but you’re certainly not complaining. Neither is he.

_____________________

The time apart has been agony.

You check your phone for the fifth time this evening. They’ve been gone for what feels like months (it’s been weeks) handling some business in California, of all places. Marc said he’d call when they were on their way home, meaning no news is sad news.

You’re pulled from your pity party by a knock on the door. It’s late, and you’ve already signed for your dinner delivery. Slowly, you get up and grab the bat you keep by the entrance (with a sock slipped over the end per Jake’s advice).

The knocking continues, getting more urgent. You take a deep breath and look through the peephole. A large brown eye stares back and you yelp, dropping your bat. The unmistakable boom of Jake’s belly laughter mocks you from behind the door.

“You’re hilarious,” you groan, standing the bat back on its head and unlocking the door.

You’re ready to lay into him when you open the door, but you’re stunned into silence. Jake’s smile is highlighted by silvery stubble, dusted with black. He adjusts his cap as his dark eyebrows raise in mock surprise.

“What, no hello?”

You tear your eyes away from his jaw. “Hm? Oh. Hi.” You open the door wider for him to step in. “Marc said you’d call first.”

“No fun in that, is there? Besides, you looked ready to handle some trouble.” he shrugs off his coat as you lock the door behind him.

“Trouble, yes. Nuisance, debatable.” You sidle up to him and drape your arms around his waist. You place a kiss on his cheek; it’d be impossible for him to not notice how you let yours drag along the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed you too,” he laughs again. “But man, is it warm in here…”

He tosses his cap and it takes everything in him to not lose it when your eyes widen at the sight of his hair, now more gray than black and curls longer than you’ve seen them before. You’re too enraptured to be embarrassed at your obvious loss for words.

“Your hair…” You reach up to touch it, but Jake grabs your wrist.

“Tsk, tsk, you threaten and barely say a word to me, then go straight for the goods without so much as a ‘please’? What happened to decorum, hm?”

“You fucking tease,” you huff. “...please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely–” Jake can barely finish his thought before your lips are on his, your hand tangled in his starlit hair as soon as he lets go.

“I take it we should cancel Marc’s haircut?” he murmurs as you catch your breath.

Your free hand grazes the scruff on his cheek and you grin. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

_____________________

A/N: marvel you cowards give us gray-haired moon knight

ty for reading <3

event tags:@moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I hope you all have a great day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, at least on your end. Lloyd chews loudly, licking his chops, and sucking his fingers loudly. The rose tint is tinged gray.

You pull into the compound and shift into park sharply. You don't move as you wait for Lloyd to get out. He wastes no time ditching you, letting out a shameless belch as he drops down onto the ground. The door snaps shut behind him and you huff.

You look over at the garbage left in his place. That's exactly where you belong. Right there with the trash.

You swipe up the crumple bag filled with wrappers and his half-finished soda. The keys jingle against the paper cup as you swipe your phone out behind you. You dump what's left of the espresso from your own cup and sheath it around the other.

You elbow the door shut and cross the dark grounds. The moon is a sliver that offers little light in the dark. You approach the doors and enter to the muted ruckus of voices and clinking bottles. Yet another night of debauchery. You don't know how Lloyd hasn't fallen right in with his guests.

You go to the kitchen and jam the bag and cups deep in the bin. You have half the mind to go through the fridge and get rid of all those meals you slaved over. Just like everything else, he'll spit it back in your face.

You flip open the door and stop yourself. No, no, he got the reaction he wanted, you're only shooting your own foot at this point. 

Your eyes center on a dark bottle with a silver label. Fuck it. You snatch the prosecco and swing the fridge shut.

You march back down the hall and ignore the din that seeps through from the dining room and various other doorways. You go upstairs to your room and close yourself in, letting the wood slam into the frame. You're not even mad at him, you're furious at yourself. Why can't you just accept it?

You drop the keys on the dresser, your phone too, and keep the bottle in hand. You untwist the wire around the cork and toss it aside. You push with your thumb until it pops and a fizzle escapes the long neck. 

You watch the wisp that rises and you gulp straight from the bottle. You cringe as your eyes water from bubbles and the stringently sweet wine floods your mouth. You gulp until you can't anymore. A quarter of the bottle down, you plunk it on the nightstand and let it sink into your veins.

You undress lazily and leave your clothes on the floor. You don't give a fuck. For one night, you just don't want to think. Hell, if you drink enough, you might just do something real stupid.

You grab the bottle and carry it into the bathroom. As you bend over to twist the faucet, the wine creeps into your brain, hazing your vision in warmth. You pull the lever for the stopper and slowly push yourself straight.

You lean on the porcelain and take another swig. You pop your mouth off the rim and lift one leg, then the other. You ease into the tub, splashing slightly as the water flows higher and higher.

You lean your head back, resting the bottle against the edge as you grip it tight. The ripples around you and beneath the skin and numb the ache in your chest. You close your eyes, drinking without thinking, guzzling until your stomach is full and the tub is nearly full.

You lay as you are, basking in the heat of the water. You could fall asleep right there. Just drift beneath the surface.

That thought jerks you awake. You sit up, dizzy, and get to your knees clumsily. You reach over the side to clunk the bottle onto the tile. You flip the stopper and lift yourself.

You get out, feet crashing onto the bathmat. You cling to the tub and take a breath. You reach for the bar and drag the towel off. You don't feel too bad, just a bit unsteady.

You wrap yourself up and teeter as you bend to grab the bottle. You clamber towards the door. You nudge it all the way open with your elbow.

As you enter the room, you stagger to a halt. You don't expect the figure sitting on your bed, watching you enter as he faces the bathroom door. You blink and squeeze the bottle tighter. 

You're buzzed. No, you're drunk.

You skin singes with self-awareness. Not only of the alcohol that dulls your mind but of the single piece of fabric around you.

“It's not healthy to drink alone,” Thor grins, a paper crinkles between his fingers, “or other things.”

He shows the slip of paper and you shake your head. He clicks his tongue and squints at it, “didn't take you for a cherry girl.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head, confused until you recall hastily hiding away the receipt in your pants. Fuck.

“I don't really use lube myself. Don't need it,” he reaches to drop the paper on the night table.

“What are you…” you clamp your lips shut as a hiccup rises. You swallow it and sway. 

“I don't make promises I don't keep, “ he stands, towering over you as he comes closer.

“You… it was a joke, wasn't it?” You babble dumbly.

“Why would I joke about that?” He stops before you and wraps his hand around the bottle, “mm, not much for bubbly,” he wiggles it free and swiftly empties what's left before examining the empty bottle, “how was your little business trip, eh?”

You frown and cross your arms over the top of the towel, “why are you here?” You ask again.

“I told you–”

“No, why… why did you come here? He hates you.”

“I got that sense of him,” Thor chortles, “doesn't bother me much.” He backs away and sets the bottle on the receipt, “I'm here to play with him. Have a bit of fun. However, he's not as amusing as I hoped. But you…”

“I…” you shake your head, “I'm drunk. I need to lay down.”

“Happily,” he winks as he reaches for you.

You sidle away, “please, I…” you swallow and your eyes flit around, “I can't–”

“Because of him? You’re wasting your time,” he latches onto your hand and draws it away from your chest, “he doesn't deserve you, little lamb.”

“I don't… it isn't because of him…”

“You're a poor liar,” he tuts, “shouldn't take your lessons from him.”

“Stop,” you try to tug away.

“You don't know what you need,” he drags you towards the bed, “it isn't him.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“You don't need to be nervous, I can be nice, kitten,” he purrs as he yanks you against him.

“I can't–” you squeak into a yelp as the towel falls away from your body, “Thor, please–”

“Louder,” he swiftly picks you up with his hands on your ass. 

You writhe against him as he spins and falls with you onto the mattress. It bounces under you and you nearly choke on your tongue. You slap his chest as he leans over you and smothers your mouth with his.

You close your eyes as they tingle and you dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt. You whimper and feel around with your other hand as he kneads your ass. You're overcome by his brusqueness. More so, you can't handle the touch, the way his hot breath consumes you, and that flicker on your core that has the vision of another flashing in your mind.

You turn your head and let out a croak as your tears leak out, “I can't,” you whine, “you're right, okay? I want him. I'm a stupid girl that wants someone like him.”

You bring your hand up to shield your face as he lifts himself on his elbow. He hovers over you as you devolve into sobs, “I'm pathetic.”

“Shhhh,” the soft stroke along your cheek startles you, “little kitty,” he slithers, “shhh.”

He shifts and comes down to his side. He slips his arm under your neck as you curl up, trying to disappear. He rolls you towards him so your face is against his shoulder. He pets your head as he holds you.

“Oh, little one,” he cooes, “it hurts now… but I can make it so much better.”

He stays like that, embracing you as you quake in your despair. You keep your face buried against his shirt as his thick muscles fill you with a sense of security. His other hand rests on your hip but does not wander.

Heaviness drapes over you and your body slowly slackens. The wine dulls your nerves and swirls in your head. You feel yourself spiraling and quickly fade into the void.

❤️‍🩹

Your brow twitches and your nose itches. You nearly smack yourself as you throw your hand up and groan. The effort makes you wince.

Ugh, hungover. It's been a while.

You bend your leg and the blanket falls away to uncover your naked thigh. You frown and peek down as you lift the blanket. No clothes. You blanch and lay back, trying to summon the memories of the previous night.

The buzzing of the shower draws your attention away from your internal search. Along with the thrum is the deep baritone singing a song you've never heard. You blink, long and hard, and push yourself up.

Your heart feels as if it's stopped beating. Your breath catches and you look around the room. There's clothing hung over the chair in the corner. Men's clothes.

Oh god.

You wouldn't…

As the melody carries, slightly offkey, you recognise the singer. Thor. Oh. Oh no.

You curl your fingers against the mattress, barely able to hold yourself up. You remember the bath and then him waiting and him on top of you but everything else is gone. How can you not remember? 

A pit plunges down to your stomach. No, you're not like that. You've held out all these years…

Well, how many chances did you really get?

The shower cranks off and you gulp, hugging the blanket against your chest as you sidle around to the edge of the bed. You can hear him moving around, humming. You don't know what to do.

As the door opens, you try to think of what to say. Hi, good morning, what the heck happened last night?

You're speechless as he emerges butt naked. Brazen as he has himself on full display. Full display.

You snap your mouth shut as he uses a towel to dry his hair and winks as he drops it down to wrap his waist. 

“Morning, kitten,” he growls, “you seem chipper.”

You try to talk but can only cough. You reach to touch your throat and rub the lump free, “Thor, what… last night…” your voice cracks with each syllable.

“Ha, you think we…” he lets the suggestion dangle and scoffs.

You nod. Of course, he's all bluster. He wouldn't actually want you.

“When it happens, you will remember it,” he taunts, “I like to build up to sleep fucking.”

Your jaw falls open, “Thor…”

“Besides, if anything had happened, you would remember it.”

“I…” you flutter your lashes, “I should–”

“Well here you are,” he knots the towel around his waist, “lucid…”

“...get dressed,” you complete your previous threat.

You stand but he blocks you easily. He catches your shoulders and urges you back. Your legs hit the mattress and you sit, unable to fight his strength.

“Now?” You squeak.

He rumbles with laughter as his hands trail down your arms, “just a taste. To pep me up for the day.”

“Uhhh,” your voice rolls out senselessly as his hand crawls over the blanket and he tugs it. You cling to it desperately. 

He snarls and yanks up the bottom, tossing it over his head as he seizes your thighs beneath. You yelp as he bows and pulls your legs apart. You lose hold of the blanket and it rumples at your waist as you catch yourself on the heels of your hands.

You wriggle and try to resist him as his head pokes up beneath the blankets. He has you leaning back on your arms as he pulls your legs over his shoulders. You lift a hand and slap his head as you realise what he's about to do.

Too late.

Your hand falls against his head as his hot breath tingles along your thighs. His cool tongue slips between your folds and you gasp, electricity coursing through you. Oh!

You let out a pathetic noise as you push futilely on his head, still writhing as he nuzzles further into you. His large tongue spreads wide and he flicks it up over your clit. You spasm and yipe in surprise at another zing.

“Thor,” you breathe.

He pulls back for just an instant, “louder, kitten, can't hear you under here.”

He dives back in and the bed bounces as you jolt. You try to smack him again but only urge him. You gasp and quiver helplessly, toes curling and legs tingling. What do you do?

Oh god, what can you do? This is better than any toy you got hidden in your nightstand. This is an actual man. It's real and it feels so good.

He wraps his arms around your legs and rips you down onto your back as he lifts your pelvis higher. He hums into you and it ripples up to your chest. You hiss and slap the bed as lay defeated.

“Ohhhhh,” you drone out as you succumb to the delightful swirls.

He growls and your breath hitches. He turns his head, just for a moment, and nips your thigh, “louder…”

You mewl and utter his name. It's as much a plea for him to keep going as it is for him to stop. He laps at you again and you cry out. That seems to fuel his fervour as he suckles at you eagerly. 

Your voice rises without your permission. Your whines burst from you as you claw at the blanket and squirm. You can't hold back. It's more than just that moment, it's years of waiting, of wanting.

You don't care that it's not who you wanted. You don't care if anyone else hears. You can't think straight enough for any of that as you call out Thor’s name, bucking your hips desperately into an orgasm.

[plutopitou]

◇ Limitless

gojo satoru x reader

It felt so real.. Gojo Satoru was dead. Or so you thought until you woke up in a cold sweat staring in the eyes ot your one and only.

wc 1.9k

warnings: basically sfw besides death (everyones alive lmao. He’s just a sweetheart in this one.

hope u all enjoyed as i havent had the time to write with passion until a couple days ago!

They said he was the strongest.

The six eyes.

The untouchable.

The one who stood tall over everyone else with unforgiving grace and supremacy.

Your lover..

Was dead at your feet.

His eyes that glittered effortlessly- shinier than an afternoon sun on blue ocean water blew out quicker than a fire with no wood, leaving it lifeless with the rest of his body in the center of his own blood like a seance.

Dead eyes stared up towards heaven, arms sprayed out ready to be taken where the god’s felt he shall rest for good.

You couldn’t hear your own scream of despair over your rapid heartbeat and ringing in your ear that seemed to get higher and higher.

Pitchier and pitchier.

You couldn’t even feel yourself being pulled back by his students as you tried to launch yourself to his still body; to hold his hand one last time even if it wasn’t warm anymore from the fire of his passion.

Why are you just laying there?

Get up, Satoru!

“Satoru!” You called out for him again, a glimmer of hope wishing the anguish in your voice was enough to jumpstart his heart back alive.

Satoru.

.

.

“Satoru!” You cry out, feeling wetness drain down your cheeks and swept away as they fell.

The ringing in your ears was still present as you jolt up, taking in your surroundings in a frantic state as cold shivers run up your spine from anxiety and shock.

He’s dead..

The space in front of you was a blur leaving your body in a fight or flight response, hitting whatever was in your sight- a dark silhouette of warmth grasps your shaky wrists together condemning you a danger to yourself.

He’s dead.

Another hand holds the plush of your cheek, wiping away the tears from your hot, damp skin.

The ringing slowly subsides as your name being called repeatedly echos around the room to your ears and your vision becomes clearer.

“(Y/n)..? Hey, look at me..” He calls out for you.

That velvety voice is more coarse than usual as the morning hour slowly rises to shine at you both through the thin black curtains.

Your breath starts to slow, turning into feint, uncoordinated hiccups of air; the cool breeze of the open window wisps by the curtains, lifting to let the moonlight illuminate the figure by your side.

Satoru.

The light of the moon casts over his pale skin and white hair in a sapphire blue sheen, eyes glittering down at you in confusion and worry; lost of its usual unserious nature.

The air hits your sweaty face as you begin to let yourself feel.

His warm hands you thought you’d never feel heat from again.

And the blood running through his veins, continuing to let his heart beat.

His hair messily frames his sharp face as he digests what is happening.

There was no way to describe the fear dragging in his stomach like an achor from waking to the screams of his name wailed out by you at his side.

You don’t answer his questions, instead pulled into his lean chest, basked into the healing sensation of love radiating from his lively body to yours. The thump of his heartbeat to remind you it’s still there,

that he’s still here.

His sweet words muttered quietly to the shell of your ear that it is alright,

“Everything’s okay. I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He whispers running slender fingers through your hair, lulling your worries away. “What’s wrong?” He asks full of soft fret.

Your eyes are clenched in this neck, the mental picture of his morbid body etched inside. “I’m scared to go back to sleep.” You choke out.

It hurt to even say it outloud.

But he didn’t need to hear it to know what you dreamt about.

You now lay down, head to his chest while running your fingers down his now grown out hair that tickles the base of his neck.

Gojo lays you on him, purposefully letting your head rest of the gentle thump of his steady heartbeat, large palm petting down your hair. Your breathing becomes stable, softly huffing breaths as you slowly fall asleep in his comfort.

It pinched his heart knowing dreaming of such things was an internal fear you’ve always had coming to fruition through your consciousness. He lays there wide awake listening to your light snores of sleep. Gojo couldn’t exactly blame you for having nightmares like this. He practically was playing a risky game of chess with the grim reaper every other night.

It wasn’t death that scared Gojo Satoru, the afterlife was the last thing he was scared of.

As a man whose mere existence puts the rest of the world in check, there were many things he could control. But he hated to admit there were some he just couldn’t.

However leaving you alone in a world where he watches cruelty rule over compassion, that is what scared him the most.

Your sweet, angelic self that only deserved to live a life of happiness and self-fulfillment. He was too selfish to leave you by yourself, refusing to ever let it happen.

Even if he was on his last leg, fighting the red devil to crawl through limbo to come back to you, he’d win and succeed to your embrace.

Before he met you, he’d always wondered if death was more kind.

His thoughts are cut off hearing you stir in your sleep, shifting to another position clutched on his body, heart skipping just from how peaceful and enchanting you are.

A world with you without him just simply did not exist in his eyes , and he’d keep it that way.

He’d always win, for you.

So happy to have finished this I kind love it and tried to have a more serious theme in the literature; so I hope I expressed that a bit better 🫶🏻

Really needed some copium if y’all know what I mean :(

Please follow, like and reblog ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

[alyslittlehaven]

First Time, First Rite. Azriel x OC A part of my 'Moonlight Weaver' Series I am making, during one of the annual visits to moon-haven, Azriel finds himself intertwined with the towns lady, the moonlight weaver Ezme, to help her with the fertility rite.

Warnings: Soft sex, Giggling, cutesy smut. very vulnerable Azriel, Sex in a pond, sex that magically fuels the land. "Are you staying, Shadowsinger?"

Azriel felt his words die in his throat as he looked at the woman, her back turned to him as she undid her dress. Ezme was ethereal—a true otherworldly type of beauty he was so drawn to. Her careful words and gentle touches fueled his days when he had come to see her on 'business.' Like he always does. His eyes raked down her body. A small breath left him as he walked up behind her and carefully untied the laces.

"You want me to watch?"

She let out a thoughtful hum before looking at Azriel from over her shoulder, his eyes finally finding hers again as he finished untying her corset. Her body visibly relaxing as she felt the tension around her waist and chest fade away. "I wouldn't mind some company for the rite." Her voice carried confidently as she turned away from him, her hands moving the straps and slowly letting the dress fall off of her shoulders, a warm smile quickly taking her features.

Azriel's attention lingered on her figure as she fixed her hair; he was a simple man, after all. He turned his head away, gently clearing his throat as he let her have her privacy. His eyes widened slightly as a wisp of moonlight swirled around him, his eyes staying on the moving tendril of white light before it swiftly moved up and curled under her chin, forcing his gaze over to Ezme. His breath hitched in his throat as he stared, wide-eyed, at her. The softly glowing tendril slowly retreated to move around her frame. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you participated.”

Her baby blue, almost white eyes now had a hint of yellow swirling in their depths. Her arms were wrapped around her chest to hide her breasts. The moonlight practically seeped into her skin and the lake, just like the stories had said about her and the moon. It's one child—its walking embodiment. Azriel finally let out the breath he was holding as the shock suddenly left his system. The notion of participating in the rite was intimate enough in general, but to actually complete the ritual with a woman like her overwhelmed his senses. 

It was no secret that the moonlight weaver was a dangerous woman , that she could kill you with the simple swipe of a hand. Simply trying to provide a haven for the people who needed it. Which had been created in the somewhat large town they stood on the outskirts of, their most sacred ceremony.

And she was offering to have him perform it with her.

Years and years of searching for someone to want him, to need him just as much as he needed them, practically fell apart as he watched her let her fingers dip into the water, treading across the ponds surface as she walked towards the waterfall. The body of water glowing a bright white, the color seemingly the same shade as the moon that reflected off of it. 

Azriel's wings shuddered behind him as the milky tendrils brushed through and around them, his eyebrows shooting up in confusion as he looked from her to the bundle of moonlight wisps. "You would let me?" His gaze flicked back over to her as the wisps practically purred in his presence, the words coming out more confused than he would have liked. Completely smashing his ego in the process. Ezme's frame, walking deeper into the pond, said, "I am asking, aren't I?" The water was now about up to her belly button, the ends of her hair flowing in the water behind her as she spoke. Her careful words were chosen, particularly not to spook the man behind her. To say he intrigued her was an understatement. Rhysand had been right to send him in hopes she would find him interesting all those months ago.

Azriel couldn't bear to tear his eyes away from Ezme as she stood, treading water. The glow from the pond bathed them both in an almost angelic light. His gaze slowly traveled down her figure, his breath nearly hitching in his throat when she reached up to put her hair in a ponytail. Her eyes remained locked on his, capturing his thoughts completely.

Any woman or man who she attempted to bed would simply be a fool to turn her down. And Azriel was a lot of things, but he would not let himself be a fool.

"Clothes off before you get in..."

He found himself undoing his fighting leathers, taking his time as she slowly turned back to the waterfall, calmly waiting for him there, basking in the cool air from the water. A small spark ignited in his brain as he got his top off and started to work away on his trousers. Eventually, when his clothes were reduced to a heap on the floor, He carefully stepped into the water, making his way to her until they were standing side by side.

He watched as she leaned forward, cupping her hands above her head as her eyes closed and she drank from the falls. The water around them suddenly glowed much brighter than before, the magic seeping off of her like the water fell off of the cliff in front of them. Its overwhelming presence is soothing to Azriel. He took a minute before he tore his eyes away from her and let himself drink from the water as well, letting out a small laugh and cough at how warm and tingly it was. Ezme let out a small giggle as she took him in, her eyes looking at every line, curve, and scar that was on display in his naked form. A small huff left her before she took a couple of steps into the waterfall. Her arms now lifted above her head as the water cascaded over her, accentuating every curve yet hiding what exactly he wanted to see the most. He watched as she waved him in, a small laugh leaving her again. Axriel carefully folded his wings behind his back and took a few tentative steps forward, feeling a sudden rush of anticipation run through him. His eyes fell on the way she fixed her hair, the water falling over top of the two like a shower.

"Does the water hurt your wings?" Her calm voice broke him from his trance, his eyes now focused on her as a smirk tugged at the end of his lips. Shaking his head no at her question before quickly stretching them out for demonstration. A relieved smile formed on her face as she noticed he was fine. Her eyes flicked to his wings.

Illyrians had been a common thing in her town, the many families who chose to leave their camps and save their children from the pain they had gone through. not wishing to continue passing down that torment. But these wings had to be one of a kind, their large form was bigger than any wing type she had seen. Not to mention how sharp the talons were. Eze took a step towards him, still staring at the membranes as her left hand came up and pressed against his chest, the other on his shoulder as her gaze moved from his wings to his face.  A small breath left her figure as their eyes met. "Your wings are beautiful..." Azriel blinked a couple of times, his eyes a bit wide as he registered just how tender her voice was when he spoke to him. His expression softened as she cupped one side of his face with her hand. 

"Thank you, I grew them myself." Ezme let out a laugh, shaking her head as his smile widened into something borderline dorky. She giggled, brushing her thumb against his cheek. "Oh, really? I thought you bought them from the market." He shook his head no, feigning offense. "How dare you!" He chuckled, looking down at her with a gentle smile. Hearing the thundering sound of the waterfall making contact with the water in the pond.

Or was that his heart? He couldn't tell the difference in that moment.

Azriel's hand moved down her sides and rested on her hips, pulling her a tad bit closer to his chest. His smile slowly fell as he stared at her. Both of her hands finally cupped Azriel's face, and she leaned up, capturing his mouth against her own. Their lips moving slowly in tandem. Azriel's hands pulled Ezme impossibly close, their chests pressing against one another as they leaned more and more into the kiss. His tongue swiped over her lips, silently asking for permission before he deepened the kiss. Her hands running down from his face to his chest as she looked up, his own hands flowly moving down and quickly picking her up. Holding her thighs. She let out a small noise of surprise as he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to hold her up. His lips never left her own as he let out a groan. 

She let out a small gasp, chuckling into the kiss as he lifted her up without warning, taking a couple steps till she felt the cold stone pressing into her back. His lips never left hers, even as her legs wrapped around his waist. Their giggles fill the small space underneath.

Azriel thought maybe he was in the heavens and he had died during the last battle, that perhaps the mother had finally given up on keeping him alive and sentenced him to an eternity with her, with lady moon. He was wrong though; he was well and alive, his skin practically burning with desire as she moaned into the kiss, a small fire lit in his belly that hadn't been there in years. She let a hand slowly move out and stroke his wing, feeling the massive things unfold and widen for her touch, a shudder wracking through his body at the soft touches. A low moan escaped his mouth as she gently squeezed the membrane of his wing, the other hand finding itself tangled in his hair, her fingers gently tugging on the wet curls. 

Azriel tensed slightly as the hand that was on his wings slowly traveled down and took him in her hand, letting his head fall down to the crook of her neck as she stroked his length a couple times and lined him up with her entrance. His hands finally rested on her hips as he stared down at what she was doing.

"Cauldron boil me. . You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?" Azriel's voice was low and husky as he looked up at her, watching that slightly ajar mouth slowly form into a beaming smile at his words. Her hand finally left his member, reaching back up for his face and capturing him in another slow kiss, her lips perfectly slotted against his as he pushed his hips forward. The desperate need to be inside of her, to be as close as physically possible, ran through his veins as he heard her let out a little gasp. His wings flared out behind him. Their usual calm and still reactions now traded for a wide stance with a hint of trembling as they stayed there for a moment. 

The back of her head rested against the wall, her body no longer feeling the slight pain of the stone pressing against her back. Her mind stalling for a moment as he pushed himself into her, a gasp leaving her figure as she closed her eyes. Thanking the mother that he gave her some time to adjust to him. 

'I suppose the rumor that Illyrian wings and lengths are proportionate is proven true now.' She let out a little giggle, and confusion started to bubble up at her reaction. 

Soon enough, Azriel began to move his hips. The slow, almost gentle rhythm he had started completely making him forget about the water that continuously fell around the two of them, adding just another thing to forget the world inside of. His touches were gentle as his hands roamed her skin, and she did the same. Her hands moved from his face to his shoulders, and then eventually down to his waist. Soft moans leave them both and fill the air around them.

The two of them were completely lost in the pleasure, their lips barely leaving one another unless it was to gasp or to place them on another body part. The two of them were more focused on the pressure building up in their guts than the world around them, completely forgetting about the rite, the people at townsqare who waited for them. Completely forgetting about their duties to their people. A soft smile tugged on Azriel's mouth as soon as he pulled away from her lips, panting as he listened to the constant stream of soft, pure moans that left her. His hips continued to rock into Ezme at their previous pace.

She couldn't even imagine what the two of them must look like on the outside of this waterfall. Azriel the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court, his hands on her thighs as the moonlight weavers legs wrapped around his waist, holding her up against the wall as the water fell around him. His lips were all over her neck, breasts, and face as he rocked into her. His wings spread on full display behind him, with one of her hands running along the membrane. Their entire world was completely reduced to the feeling of her wrapped around his cock in one of the best ways possible.  His breath left him in hard, ragged pants and groans as he felt the familiar knot building in his stomach. His hand traveled down so he could brush his thumb over her clit. His thrusts slowly picked up the pace as his wings shuddered behind him at her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders and back as his hands gripped at her hips in an almost painful way.

They just stared at each other for a moment, moaning out and holding one another as their eyes locked. Azriel's mind was completely fogged over with pleasure. The only thoughts running through his mind were how good she felt and how beautiful she was looking down at him like that. Like he was the only man in the world for her. His heart clenched in his chest as her body started to tremble lightly, and his forehead pressed against hers as he continued to mindlessly rock into her. Ezme could hardly think, her thoughts buzzing with the shock of all of this and how good he felt inside of her.

Azriel shifted slightly, making a small change to the angle he was taking. Her moans grew louder, legs trembling around him as he hit just the right spot, desperately clinging onto him as he sped up his normally gentle pace.

Her lips crashed into his, and a few moments later she came undone around him, moaning into his mouth and twitching slightly with her orgasm, her pants leaving her mouth as he continued to push into her. Her head fell, her forehead now pressed against his shoulder as her nails dug into his back. Most of the noises leaving her now are just gasps and a word or two. Azriel let out a hiss, and his hips stuttered slightly, pushing up into her with a small curse and holding her hips down against him as he spilled into her. White-hot pleasure burned through his vision as his hand moved to the stone wall behind Ezme. The two of them stayed there for a moment to catch their breath. Azriel's head perked up at the sound of her giggle.

"that, Azriel. Is the fertility rite." Her smile was as bright as the sun, a small, tired twinge in her voice as he just chuckled, carefully pulling out of her and wrapping her legs around his hips again. Leaning up and kissing her passionately, slow and tandem with one another.

--

Cassian let out a small hum, looking around as the townspeople danced and laughed amongst each other. His eyes tried to find the very quiet male who usually stalked behind them. "Rhysand, do you know where our dear shadow singer went?" Rhysand let out a small sigh, twirling around the stick of fruit inside his cocktail. Humming.

"No, I haven't seen him since we arrived; maybe he's off dancing; Cauldron knows he needs this Cass." Cassian nodded, letting himself relax before a startling roar left the crowd, his eyes quickly looking around for what they were cheering at. Cassian slowly reached over, patting Rhysand's arm, who tore himself away from the paper in his hands.

A small giggle left Ezme's lips as a bunch of women screamed when she walked back into the square, her presence meaning the rite had been completed. What surprised Rhysand and Cassian the most was the soaking-wet Azriel, who smiled next to her. A group of men whisked him away with a bunch of knowing smirks.

Cassian cleared his throat. His eyes were still wide as he looked over at his brother Rhysand. 

"Well...now we know where Azriel went."

[lz-didyounotice]

Wrong Doctor

This gif do not belong to me.

Heyyyyy! How are you lots? So. This one took longer than expected, liked none of my drafts and ended up with a totally different story than what it once was… But in the end it turned out okay. This one takes place a few months before “An hymne to love”.  Sorry if the writing seems a bit funky.

Froggit-

Warning : english is not my first language. Lots of fluff, mention of kids going missing.

—----------------------------

The night enveloped her in a blanket of light, the moon casting its ethereal glow upon the valley. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, the chill creeping into her back as she stood in this tranquil surrounding. Her hair danced gently in the breeze, her eyes shut, savoring every subtle shift of the wind against her skin.

In that moment, barefoot and grounded, she reveled in the sensation of grass brushing against her, its touch both enchanting and soothing. The wind whispered softly, a silent companion as she indulged in dreams of a life among the stars.

She had intended to linger for hours, captivated by the celestial spectacle above, immersed in the profound silence of the night. Despite the creeping cold, her breath materialized in wisps of white her thoughts, consumed with whimsy, as she attempted to conjure ephemeral clouds with each exhalation, watching them dissipate into the darkness. To an outsider, she would have seemed to hang on a single string of sanity with only the calming movement of her chest and the shelter of her leather jacket for warmth. For her, the onset of winter was a long-awaited embrace, promising transformation as the yellowed fields would soon be blanketed in snow.

Breaking the silence, the faint sound of footsteps approached from behind. The rhythmic rustle of grass grew louder, drawing nearer . She kept her gaze fixed upon the heavens, as though committing every star to memory.

The stranger hesitated to speak, his attention taken by the beautiful figure he now stood next to. Her short, ginger hair glowed under the moonlight, her eyes bathed in a soft, bluish luminescence. As their eyes met, something ignited  within her as she beheld the familiarity of a man she had never expected to see again.

His unruly hair and long trench coat framed a face adorned with dark brown eyes, each holding the mysteries of the universe. A small smile graced her lips as she admired the beauty of his presence.

Breaking the silence, his voice, warm and soothing, punctuated the night. "A splendid night, wouldn't you agree?"

Gazing back at the stars, she could only nod in agreement. “Splendid doesn't begin to describe it,” she murmured. Sensing him gazing away, she inquired, "And what brings a gentleman like yourself out here in the middle of night?"

"I could ask you the same," he countered.

“I find… comfort in this place… Makes me think of home.,” she confessed.

Seemingly intrigued, he pressed further, “And what might be your name ?”

With a soft smile, she adjusted her short hair before responding. “You can call me ‘Sunny’. And you? What shall I call you?”

“I'm the Doctor.”

“The Doctor? Doctor who?” Her inquiry was tinged with playful curiosity, yearning to see the smile she once cherished.

“Just the Doctor,” he replied, a faint grin playing upon his lips.

“I had a friend who went by that name…” she reminisced.

Intrigued, the Doctor couldn't resist probing further. “What happened to him? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I had to go somewhere he could not follow…” she replied, truth trapped between her teeth .

“Did you tell him ? About where you were going ?” he inquired gently.

“It was the reason we met in the first place. He knew it would happen eventually. But I don’t think he was prepared for it…” she finally admitted.

The Doctor couldn't help but wonder about what remained unspoken. The possibility of meeting one of his future companions filling his hearts with warmth and curiosity . ‘Sunny’ sounded familiar. He was sure to have met her somewhere before but didn’t want to pry further.

“Anyway, have you seen something strange ‘round here recently ?” he inquired, redirecting the conversation.

“Besides you?” she teased.

“I'm being serious.”

“Well, not far from here lies a small village. There have been reports of missing children in recent weeks. What's most unsettling is that the parents seem to forget they ever had them in the first place.”

“How does one forget their own children?” the Doctor pondered aloud.

“I've wondered the same. And with no one reporting them missing, there's been little effort to find them. It's as though they vanish into thin air,” she explained.

“Now that’s dreadful. At least I know where to search.” the Doctor resolved, turning his full attention to her. “Do you happen to have a vehicle we could use to get to town  ?”

“If you ask so kindly, I might be able to lend a hand too. Come on” she offered with a warm smile, leading the way towards her home.

—----------------------------

Soon, a small cottage came into view, its white walls adorned with creeping vines, a charming composition of rustic brick and verdant foliage. Adjacent to it stood a barn, spacious enough to shelter two vehicles within.

Hurrying to the porch, the ginger-haired woman donned her shoes before darting towards the barn.

“I must warn you, there’s not only vehicles in there.” Finally opening the doors, a sort of large laboratory came into view. Filled with spare parts, prototypes made out of domestic machinery. The Doctor's eyes gleamed with a childlike fascination as he explored each and every invention he could put his hand on. “‘Careful with that, wouldn't want you to blow up anything.” she quipped, her tone lighthearted as she watched him tinker with her modified mixer.

"A bit rubbish, don't you think you could have used a different lens for these? The blast could be fuller." Searching for two helmets, the ginger haired girl tried to not be offended by the Doctor's comments. “I do with what I can find, Doctor. Anyway, most of them are just smaller scale machinery.” Finally finding what she was searching for, she tossed a black one to the timelord. “Catch! I hope you’re not afraid of speed my dear.” 

Looking confused, the doctor examined his helmet, and realized what they would be driving. “Oh- That’s brilliant!”

—----------------------------

Long had it been since she had such a thrilling adventure. Dodging monstrous aliens and unraveling mysteries alongside the Doctor. She even found herself yearning to join him aboard the TARDIS once more. Yet, she knew it was a temptation she couldn't succumb to, lest she alter the course of fate.

As they rode back on her motorbike, she relished the sensation of his arms encircling her, his laughter mingling with the rush of wind. His presence behind her, his warmth seeping through her, felt like a dream she never wanted to end.

Upon returning home, she resolved to embark on a journey of her own—a quest to reunite with her lost lover. But as the Doctor passed by the door, she invited him to share a cup of hot chocolate with her, an offer he accepted with eagerness.

Seated together on the couch, they savored each sip, savoring the fleeting moment of companionship.

“You know, your friend was lucky to have you by his side,” the Doctor remarked, his gaze thoughtful as he sipped his drink.

Smiling softly, she leaned closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “I believe I was the fortunate one. I only wish he could see himself as I see him.”

“And how do you see him?” he inquired earnestly.

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“A complete and utter idiot…” she confessed, her tone affectionate as laughter bubbled between them. “But a kind idiot.”

As their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passed between them, as if this moment was meant to be.

"I hope you find him soon. He must miss his companion," the Doctor remarked gently.

“I miss him too,” she whispered, her heart heavy with longing.

—----------------------------

The Tardis was Shimmering. Her to be slightly altered beauty, scratched from previous adventures. She had missed the feeling of  her wood beneath the skin, how comforting it actually was.

Standing outside of the TARDIS door, the Doctor had extended an offer for her to accompany him, albeit temporarily, but as much as she appreciated the offer, she knew her destiny lay elsewhere. 

“Before I go… Though I'm not supposed to know, could you perhaps share your name?” the man requested softly.

“I suppose it won't hurt,” she conceded, stepping closer. “I'm (Y/N).”

“It was a pleasure meeting you (Y/N)” he said with a wistful smile, finally setting foot into the blue box.

“And it was a pleasure to see you again, Doctor,” she replied.

And as the TARDIS vanished from sight, (Y/N) felt her heart swell with determination. She wanted to burst out, claim the very air in her lungs and scream out her farewell. Though tears welled in her eyes, they  weren’t tears of sadness, as hope came through. Hope to be in his arms, reunited with her beloved once again.

[hatsukeii]

hi hatssun!! congrats on 900 followers!!

i would love to be on the guitar and bass with kageyama! i heard someone say "takes one to know one" in my in-ear monitor and prefer my “pining” guitar pick ;) thank you <3

nice! the band you've joined is...

lessons in love / bsf!kageyama tobio x reader

genre(s): angst in between bouts of fluff but this will be a very sweet fic methinks, lowkey found family, subtle but definitely pining, learning to love and learning to live!!!

warning(s): family issues smh, blood because kageyama is reckless and upset ngl, a smidge of depression/implied self-harm + suicidal ideation so pls be cautious! im basing those things off of what i've felt before so im trying not to romanticise it iykwim

wc: ~1.7k

your first gig is at… a waste yard?!

setlist:

🎵踊り子, vaundy

🎵lonely rhapsody, fuji kaze

🎵fake plastic trees, radiohead

Life leads Kageyama Tobio to a wasteland.

His feet kick at soda cans as he treks through mountains of thrown out televisions, yellowed mattresses, emptied beer bottles with the edges smashed open. His hand holds a baseball bat, yours carry along a skateboard. Leaves and paper crunch beneath your board as you jam it into the sooty ground ahead of a worn down Corvette. Once, a long time ago, it must have been the priceless possession of some young, fiery man. Now, it ages with him, alone and rusting through trials of life.

"The car? You sure?"

"Go on. Tell it what you want to." You egg him on, smacking your board into the ground once, twice. Tobio tosses the bat and catches it by the hilt, but his steps are shaky, careful as he approaches the hunk of metal. He raises it by his side, and slams it into the sideview mirror until it comes clean off with a snap. You watch him, hands pressing your board firm into the ground. Tobio is silent, even as he hammers and slashes and plows relentlessly into the rusted metal body of an unloved, unwanted Corvette. You imagine every crack in the car's windows carrying a little weight for him.

"I can't stand it here anymore."

Tobio gives the windshield one final blow, before the entire thing collapses into the cockpit of the car in chunks and shimmers of foggy glass. Frowning, his hands grab onto the frame, palms sinking into jagged shards of smashed window. He'll patch them up for volleyball, he thinks, but for now, he would rather watch them bleed for tonight. His feet push off the bumper, hands pushing further into the glass as he swings himself onto the roof of the car. He lies his head down on his bloodied palms, hair poking into fresh wounds. You sigh, tossing your unused skateboard to the side, and push yourself onto the trunk of the car, standing over Tobio's head.

"You're actually insane, you know? Dragging me out here so I can assault a car." He stares at the sky. The moon cowers behind grey clouds tonight, billions of stars following suit. The only star he sees is hovering above his face, but he's too busy trying not to wince at the stench of his blood oozing into his hair.

"Takes one to know one, Tobio. You fucked it up real good."

He sits up, pushing himself to the side and leaving bloody handprints on the off-white roof of the car. You press your hand onto the cool metal , swinging one leg over. Your boot lands on Tobio's stomach, and he doubles over before falling limp again. A second leg follows up, slinging itself onto the first. His eyes flicker from the sky to your seated figure, legs sprawled across his body, a fallen star in a barren wasteland. If his palms weren't bloodied and battered tonight, he'd lift you back up into the sky and away from the abyss that is himself. You deserve at least that much.

"Need to get away from here." He mumbles into the air, wisps of cold puffing from his mouth.

Your legs shift, one bent for your boot to rest between his legs, the other lying comfortably across his knee. Swallowing thickly, he lolls his head to the side, the corner of his eye catching the way your hair falls loose from behind your ear when you turn to look at him. If his hands weren't stinging like hell behind his head, he would push it back to see you properly. His eyes train onto nothing in particular, melancholic. Tired. You click your tongue and reach over to pinch his earlobe, a pinch that tells him, hey, I'm still here. You're still here. We can stay forever if you'd like. Once an odd quirk of yours turned a habit that seems to ground Tobio every time he feels the dull ache. You've done it so much that he's memorised the swirls etched into the pads of your fingers just by the feeling of them pressed against his ears.

"Hey, y/n."

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I have it in me to live?"

You gasp, feigning hurt as your hand shoots up to your chest. Yet in your mind, you do not want to talk about this, because you have no answer for him. So, you hope that Tobio laughs at you. He doesn't. Instead, he pushes himself upright on his elbows, palms facing the air. The blood has dried and clotted now, streaks of reddish-brown slashing across the pale skin of his hands.

"Live?"

"Yeah, like really live."

He stops to think, eyes rolling to stare at the blank sky, devoid of stellar or lunar presence. His eyes dart around to draw into the clouds, two people sitting atop a Corvette that has expended its time, legs tangled betwen each other, minds connected by brain waves unseen by each other, but so very present nevertheless. Two minds so detached from the rest of the world, from fighting parents that storm into different rooms at midnight, from the horrors that have made their marks in their chests, their heads, their ears, their eyes too. Two wandering souls that bumped into each other on a school rooftop by chance one day, one learning to live, the other living as if tomorrow was not guaranteed.

"I'm still alive, for what it's worth. What makes you think you can't?"

Tobio looks back to you, and it's almost like he's back on that school rooftop a year ago. The rooftop where the wind howls and whistles, no matter how low he crouches behind the barriers to breathe. The rooftop where you pinched his ear for the first time, and he didn't even know your name. Now, he knows where you head to when nights of muffled screaming from downstairs become ringing in your ears, and how you like your breakfast on the mornings that you jog to his house when dewdrops form on leaves at dusk, usually after sleeping through the night in a Corvette at a waste disposal. You know the recurring nightmare that plagues his waking dreams, the one where his toss hits an empty court, his teammates huddled outside the lines, and the anxiety that eats at his very being, fear that he will never really learn how to live freely, to spread his wings and take off.

"I have nothing but volleyball. I don't know if anyone really cares for me outside of that. Except you, probably. Which is weird already."

"What's so weird about that? I think I love you anyways." You freeze at your casual confession, holding your breath. Then you decide that it's not worth it, and breathe out. Tobio stares, the thought of what you have just said being true is inconceivable. Heavy breaths line the silent air, your chests heave at the same pace, and he thinks that maybe your bodies are connected in some capacity too.

"You think?"

"Don't exactly have a good reference to go by now, do I?"

Tobio can't bring himself to nod. The idea that you've chosen to consider loving him, of all people, is frightening. The prospect of you choosing to stay in this abyss alongside him, refusing to go back amongst the stars, where you belong, is gut wrenching. Why? Why stay here? All he knows is volleyball. He can't even figure out how he wants to exist. There's so much waiting ahead for you, beyond the dysfunctional family, and the wasteland, and the Corvette. A youth of dancing on top of cars, and watching planes fly by from grassy fields, and chats of last night's dinner instead of last night's nightmare. So much that he knows someone else could give you, maybe even better than he can. You puff your cheeks, and blow a raspberry at his silence, before he finally breaks it.

"Why me?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm awful?"

"You're just learning to live, like everyone else. That doesn't make you awful. That doesn't stop me from loving you either."

"You've gotta stop saying that, man." You raise your eyebrow at his request, heart sinking to your stomach.

"What, that I love you? Does that scare you?" He shakes his head, and you only just notice the faint pink that lines his cheeks. The clouds above thin out, the glow of the moon is diffused, but finally there nevertheless. His bloodied palm tucks the fallen strands of hair behind your ear, tracing over the curve tentatively. He wants to learn you all over again.

"It scares me. But it excites me. It excites me to like, no end." His fingers ghost across your neck, gliding over your pulse. This feels like the real thing, he wonders if you know when you smile back at him.

"Good. That's what it feels like to live."

You reach for his hand, feeling the cuts and gashes in his palm when you press your own to his. He links his fingers with yours, and sets your hands back on the cold metal of the Corvette. Then, he pushes forward to you, pressing his lips against yours for just a second. This tastes like the real thing, and Tobio hopes that by the way you pull him back in, you know it too. His other hand snakes around to your back, pushing you impossibly close to him. You don't let him go until your lungs are shrivelled discs, begging for air. And even then, you hold his forehead against yours, and breathe against his lips, cupid's bows still touching. His eyes are lidded, staring at the puffs of white that don't stop coming from your mouths.

"Yeah, I think I love you too." His confession sends shivers down your spine, shivers that are caught by his hand on your back, his fingers against yours on the roof of a car, and his lips on yours again.

Life leads Kageyama Tobio to a wasteland. Love leads him into the night sky, right beside you instead.

author's note:

this is an apology and a fulfilment of a promise for ave because yeah ushijima HURT you but im about to pull you back out of it bb<3 have yourself a wonderful angsty fluff pining hurt/comfort found family learning to live learning to love fic i love you also i hope it's angsty enough because i think i went the found family route a little too much so it's not explicitly sad but it's more like melancholic iykwim

off topic but i haven't gone so heavy on like mental turmoil in my writing since forever but i hope that what i've written here is realistic(?) i personally have dealt with most things i wrote here so im not worried about being weird and romanticising awful things but i need to like just clarify LOL

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @catsoupki @staraxiaa @fiannee @akaakeis @4ngelfries @wyrcan @kuroppiii @bailey-reeds

interested in joining a band? come on over to the build-a-band 900 !!

[gumballavocadoharry]

A perfect father's day:

*This is a short blurb based off an upcoming one shot involving Harry, Emerson and Yn. This is just an inside glimpse to what the plot (or theme) of their dynamic is. Swin is a fictional town in London.*

Swin's summers were sometimes mucky- the sticky heat that made sweat damp and moist against your skin. The June sun simmered down on the silky grass between Emerson's toes. A sunhat covered his little head, shielding him away from the summer's sticky heat. A cool wisp patched the back of Emerson's neck. Even more than the swift idea that bounced through his brain.

Father's day. The town would be celebrating with big breakfast deals at the diner or the usually expensive watches and golf clubs would be 50 percent off and maybe the special 'doughnuts with dad' at the school, where the children's fathers would show up and see the special play and music show they had worked all week on. Emerson was apart of it. But today was Sunday. Father's day was Sunday. Waking up against the tick of his alarm- and his father's watchful eye- Emerson was parked under the loopy tree in the backyard, sunhat snatched from his closet over his head and his body perched against the tree bark while the wind tickled his toes and the sunlight heated them.

"Emerson!" Harry's lanky body emerged from the side door, "how long have you been out here?!" Emerson got up and turned to his father, "Since 8 o'clock." Harry let out a hefty sigh before grabbing his son's arm and dragged him back inside the house. Despite the intense fury of adrenaline pumping through his every move, somehow he calmed himself- enough to soothe himself to confront his son.

Turning his little body to face him and then stooping down on his level, "Emerson, I don't ever want you leaving the house without daddy's permission, do you understand?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows, "You know your skin can't sweat buddy- why did you go out there in the burning hot sun?" Emerson looked down then up, "I wore a sunhat though." Harry flattened his lips before picking Emerson up and setting him on the counter. "Well, how about some breakfast?" Emerson gave a perky smile- displaying his dimples before nodding. Harry pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Daddy loves you.... I just want to protect you, that's all, okay?" Harry lifted Emerson's cheek to his face. "Okay." He replied. 

Finishing his breakfast, Emerson kept the pondering thought of Father's day twinkling in his mind. Slowly tiptoeing through his father's bedroom, hand-drawn colored pictures were picture framed and scattered throughout his bedroom. Daddy and me pictures were either on his nightstand or his dresser- even some hanging over the coat rack by his bedroom door. Some were from kindergarten, others were from second and first grade. But Emerson wasn't impressed. He needed something more, fresh and steadfast.

To Emerson, Harry did everything- he was everything: he hung the moon, painted the stars, cooked the world's best meals and the most soothing whisper he had heard. The way his voice would lip through every complex word of his bedtime stories- his soft kiss being pressed to his forehead was like a ticket to Emerson- a dreamland ticket to drift him away into a subtle slumber while the last sound to tingle through his eardrums was of his father's pommy accent.

Creeping back into his own bedroom, Emerson sat at his desk, jotting down ideas for what his gift to Harry should be. Maybe his favorite fruit?- freshly picked red delicious ones, or Granny smiths? Or maybe a zodiac watch- the 500 dollar ones on display at 'Luxe Threads' at the mall.

Or Emerson could get his father a picture of him laying in the grass while the sun shined brightly against his toothy grin. Harry would only love a picture like that. He always pictured Emerson running through the spring's blossoms, dancing around the leaves and pastel petals while the sun was sprinkled through the branches. He dreamed of Emerson swinging from branch to branch in the brass of the summer sun, basking in the glow of July with grass stains on his knees and sweat raining down his temples. 

Maybe a picture of them together- lying against the belly of the earth, hair twirled in the grass, smiles brighter than the sun and eyes twinkling through the frame of the picture. It was perfect, it was everything Emerson could ever want to give to his father. Emerson waddled over to the hallway phone and dialed his teacher's number. "Hello?" A soft voice spoke on the other end, "E'llo, Miss Ln?" "Emerson?"

"Yeah... today is daddy's day or father's day- and I really wanted to take a special picture for my Dad. It's a secret and a super special surprise... so you can't tell him okay?" Yn giggled on the other end, "Okay. I promise, my lips are sealed.... you need my help?" "Mhm," Yn couldn't help but let out another giggle, "Okay... what do you need me to do?"

"Well, I wanna go to the picture studio to take the picture for my dad, but I can't go by myself. So, I know that if he sees you, he'll let you take me." "Mmm, very clever.... okay, I'll stop by." Emerson waited for Yn to come and grew thrilled upon seeing her little silver car pull up to the quaint lane. A knock at the door stopped Harry in his tracks at the counter, wiping the flour on his apron. A slight in his eyebrow shifted- as he gathered to the door. A smile spread across his face as he recognized Yn's face through the grainy ripply glass. "E'llo love, what are doin' here?"

"Well, I just thought I'd stop by and say hello," Harry sensed something through Yn's face- she wanted to say more. "Yn?" A cheekiness dipped through his tone, "Okay..." She leaned in closer, "Emerson wants to go the photo studio and he wanted me to take him because he knew you'd say yes." Harry smiled and nodded.

"Little one, your guest is here!" Harry called from the bottom of the stairs. Yn internally beloved Harry's accent. It seemed to clasp a little louder against his words like everyone else's in the little town. But Harry's was still different. It had this mellowness of elegance intertwined- a naturalness of speech like he was cultured without needing to see the world- he already knew it from all its angles and axels. A small twitch in his nose- similar to Emerson's- nabbed Yn's attention like a fly- delighting in every small detail of himself.

"Coming Dad!" Emerson skipped down every step, almost skidding down the last three over a miscalculation. "Woah there bunny, be careful," Harry cautioned. Emerson had his little satchel with him, and the euros he assumed would be enough for a picture. Emerson looked to Yn with a smile, then his father with the same one. "Have fun Emerson, and be sure to listen to everything Yn tells you, okay?" "Okay, Daddy." Harry bent down and placed a kiss on Emerson's forehead before squeezing him into a hug.

A peach tinted flush swam across his cheeks. A small furrow pinched his eyebrows. Harry pulled away, making Emerson adjust his expression. "Bye bye, love." "Bye daddy." Yn took Emerson's hand in hers and they walked to her car. "And don't stay in the sun too long Emerson! Yn, make sure he doesn't sweat!" Harry called from the door. "Promise." Yn said.

Sunflowers. Clouds. Ladybugs. Families of three, four, seven, were pictured on the walls of the gallery. The young man was in the back adjusting his camera before coming to the front with a chirpy smile. "E'llo, and what can I do for you?" The man was eyeing Yn, but she looked down and motioned Emerson to explain, "E'llo Mister, I would like to take a personal portrait of myself. How much would that be?" The man thought, "Well, if you included extra features such teddy bears or holding a bouquet of flowers, well then it's five euros extra."

"Is sixteen euros enough for one picture?" The little boy wondered. The man was nice, "Of course, it's five euros per picture." Emerson smiled. "What would you like?" "A single portrait with me laying on the grass while the sun- or light- shines on my face." Yn and the man chuckled, "Okay, just have your Mum read these over," he grabbed some papers, "it's just to verify that your over eighteen- even though you're not- but it's standard." Yn's face blushed as she read over the papers and signed them on behalf of Harry. 

The man helped position Emerson on the floor in the perfect position: Hands behind his head, legs crossed and a big chirpy smile gleaming against the glow of the light. It was perfect. The man only charged half the price, leading Emerson to pay only three of his pounds to the man. "Have a nice day!"

"Thank you!" Both Yn and Emerson said. On the way home, all Emerson could talk about was how "happy daddy was going to be once he saw the photo." It made Yn's heart smile herself. Hearing this little boy laud in pleasure was a contentment Yn couldn't even describe. "It's the first picture I haven't drawn for him on father's day. Dad would always wish we could take a family portrait outside one day- but because of my condi- condi-"

"Condition?" "Yeah! Because of that- my poppy says we have to take it indoors. He's never seen me take an outside picture, and this will give the illusion that I did!" "I'm so proud of you honey! Your father's going to love your present for him!" 

"Daddy, we're home!" Harry rushed downstairs and wrapped his arms around Emerson. He smelled like apple pie. In fact, the whole kitchen did. "Daddy.... I have a surprise for you!" Harry raised an eyebrow, "You do? What's the occasion?" "Today's father's day, remember?" 

Harry laughed, "Oh now I do! What is the present?" Emerson beamed. He took the picture out of the bag and showed it to Harry. "Surprise! It's a photo of me being outside, except I was inside since I can't sweat!" Emerson giddily said. "Oh sweetheart! It's beautiful!" Harry's eyes became glossy. It was everything he imagined it to be himself: no rashes, no hives- clear skin and a happy vibrant smile. "I love it! Oh thank you Emerson," Emerson jumped into Harry's arms, giving each other big hugs, "Happy Father's day, I love you daddy!" 

"I love you too, my love." 

A 'perfect' start to a very touching upcoming blurb surrounding these three!!!!

[mayhemscorner]

Middle of the night

Gaara x F!reader

(Seeing as Gaara and Itachi already have a strong lead in the poll, I will be releasing this fluffy one shot early as I have a few Gaara fics on standby that I wasn’t ready to post. Itachi will also be dropping within the week)

Summary: two insomniacs in love. Gaara watches reader at night when she returns from missions. Reader gets home late to finally catch him, FLUFF

The sand village was always near silent when I returned. The dark sky cascaded against the twirling sand in the wind, creating sparkling masterpieces under the street lights. It was peaceful, serene even. After being away so long in the leaf village to help proctor the chunin exams, it was bittersweet to admit I had missed the sand sneaking its way between my toes when I walk. Or how it would always find its way in to my hair just to be washed down the drain in the shower. 

“You’re going to miss your stop if you keep day dreaming, Y/N… And I thought Shikamaru was bad.” Temari chides, bumping me in the direction of my door. I can’t help but smirk when turning slowly to her,” I just missed the sand.”

“Sure. Say that to me again during the next sand storm.” Temari grimaces, already shaking light brown speckles from her shoulder. 

“You just want an excuse to go back to the leaf and see Shikamaru.” I arch my brows as I watch the tint of red creep like a vine up her neck and her failure to turn away in time,” as if. His intelligence hardly makes up for his lack of motivation... Don’t even get me started on how he thinks everything is a drag.”

Temari crosses her arms and hops down from the stone doorstep,” besides, I don’t have time for anymore men. I already have to make sure my siblings didn’t burn anything down or die of starvation. Such a drag.”

“Ha! You’re even starting to sound like him. Admit it, you’re in love.” I gasp almost a little toodramatically at her turned back, causing her to stop in her tracks as the anger bites in her words,” goodnight Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Temari.” I finally give in, turning to unlock my weathered door and mumble a slight victory,” she didn’t deny it.”

My little apartment was dull from my time away. Empty and dark except the golden sand pooled into little masterpieces at the door from blowing through the slight crack, leaving its unique mark and greeting me back home. Taking my time to light the candles to avoid turning on the lights and brew some tea, I lose track of time. Finally I find myself draping across the couch, glancing at the clock on the wall saying it’s almost two in the morning, but my mind and body say it’s barely noon. After cleaning up and getting my training clothes washed, I finally trudge up to the bedroom to convince myself I’m tired. 

“I could’ve swore I closed all the windows before we left.” I mumble to myself skeptically, deciding ultimately to leave it open and let in the cool breeze for the night. Early spring drafts were heavenly, but they came and went too fast before the desert heat of summer dragged in. As I lay down in bed, I can’t help but face towards the window, watching the moon peacefully laze around in the sky and the clouds drifting slowly. After several moments, the soft wisps of sand dancing against the window frame catches my attention. The breeze was low, not even enough to pick more than a few grains of sand up, let alone strands. My feet carry themselves to the window in a sleep drunk stupor, then my body moves on its own to climb in to the frame, looking around. If anyone were to break in, they would’ve used the easy route of the balcony door, literally two feet from the window. I finally turn to look on the balcony, seeing the all knowing flash of vermillion, trying hard to conceal themself against the shadows on the wall.

“For Kazekage, you’re horrible at hiding yourself.” I yawn, jumping the distance from the window to the balcony railing, perching myself in perfect view of the moon and letting my feet dangle in the open air.

“I just wanted to be sure the two of you made it home safely.” Gaara mutters out, taking his time to walk up and slouch his arms over the railing next to me.

“Gaara, Temari and I have been back for hours. What are you really doing outside of my house in the middle of the night?” I ask, draping a hand on to the top of his head. He careens into the touch, his whole body following the inward tilt of his head at the feeling,” I wanted to make sure you got to sleep alright.”

I can’t help but chuckle, caressing my fingers through his locks as he sighs peacefully,” do you do that for all the sand shinobi returning home?”

“Only you.” He admits sheepishly, finally allowing his head to drop in my lap and his arm to wrap over my legs in exhaustion. 

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned for my safety.” I huff out jokingly before continuing,” seems like you do it an awful lot Lord Gaara.” 

“Y/N. I believe we’re at a level of friendship where you can drop the Lord. And you aren’t the most attuned with sleeping normally.” Gaara sighs out, burrowing his head deeper against my legs in comfort. My other hand dances lazy circles against his tensed back, instantly relaxing his posture and causing a sigh of relief. 

“I think you’re the last person who should be scolding me on my sleep schedule. I also thought we were at the level of friendship where you use my front door instead of stalking me from my own balcony.” I say in answer, feeling as his body tenses again.

“That’s not- I was only- I didn’t want to bother you.” Gaara stumbles out, shooting up quickly to defend himself as he fumbles backwards and lands against the balcony floor. He slopes his arms over his legs, curling in on himself in defeat and embarrassment. A yawn sneaks it’s way out as I push his legs down and take my turn to rest my head in his lap,” I was only joking y’know? I don’t mind. It gives me a sense of safety, honestly.”

His arms curl around my frame, pulling me upwards in to a tight and what felt like a much needed hug, head nuzzling comfortingly in the crook of my neck and his arms refusing to let go.  I melt around him, giving in to the needy touch, letting our inner children heal with every second of embrace that we both were robbed of for so long. 

“I can’t bring myself to rest when I can’t feel your presence in the village. It’s as if you keep my demons at bay. I can’t help but to make sure you get to sleep every night before I can finally rest myself.” He whispers, wavering tears present in his shaky voice. His words make it seem like I was gone for years and not days, and in his touch, it was starting to feel that way. Our closeness had come on suddenly after last summer. Kankuro had pestered Temari on not having friends so much that I was the unlucky stranger she dragged home for dinner after training. Awkward dinner conversations revealed trauma within one night, we all realized our similarities in not having stand up parents, but persevere regardless. 

“Y/N?” Gaara asks quietly, shaking me lightly to make sure I’m still conscious,”hmm?”

I can only manage to mumble against his tight grip even if I am fully awake.

“Do you feel any sort of affection towards me?” He continues shyly. I weakly attempt to catch the laugh that bubbles up my throat,” if I didn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now, Gaara. I wouldn’t subject myself to you and your siblings at one dinner table at the same time. The question is, do you like me… or do you find comfort in me?”

“Is it selfish of me to say both?” He questions, raking a hand gently through my hair. I shake my head softly,” as long as you come to bed with me, I might forgive you for keeping me up so late.”

Without another word, he lifts us both effortlessly from the patio floor and ushers us through the door. His gourd clanks against the door as he tries to shut it, causing him to wince slightly. He never once lets go of me, even wrestling with the bedding. Even when he slides the gourd off his back, and shuts off the light. Gaara is stiff as a board beside me, causing me to climb on top and rest on his chest, listening to his frantic heart beat slowly become steady,” let’s get what sleep we can before your sister busts down my door in the morning.”

“If I had to stay awake for eternity to usher the moon and sun across the sky, just to make sure you slept and lived peacefully, I would without question. A night without sleep is nothing new to me, neither is my own sisters temper.” Gaara speaks lowly, finally relaxing. His arms find their way around me once again, resuming the grip that felt as if he let me go, I’d blow away as easily as a piece of paper. I lazily lift my head to place a chaste kiss to his lips that’s broken by another ebbing yawn,” you’re sweet… but you can speak poetically in the morning, after we’ve both woken up.”

My tiredness finally overcomes my strength, drooping further down and giving in to the clenching hands of sleep as his chest becomes a rhythmic melody to ensure my rest was peaceful. 

Sleep was never the problem. It was the disorientation and grogginess of waking up that bothered me, the crashing reality of all of life’s regrets hitting all at once as the sun burns your eyes and the heat drys your throat. This morning was different. My mind was alert with full clarity, a glass of water also sat waiting for me. Then the anxiety of the thought of oversleeping hits. My body spasms, shooting upwards in a panic to reach the dresser before Temari has the chance to reach for the spare key in the cactus pot by the door. My heart clenches as the arms that subdue my panicking body snake around my torso, stopping the race against the clock. Red hair brushes against my shoulder as Gaara rests his head against me in a groggy yet, still alert haze,” Y/N, take a moment to look at the time. Temari won’t even be up for another hour.”

My fingers wrap around his own that rest just above my naval in a protective embrace, breathing deeply before sighing,” force of habit.”

“I guess we both have habits to break.” He yawns, squeezing tighter. 

“Maybe that’s something we can do together?” I question, leaning my head back to rest in to him.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing it any other way.” He answers in a whisper, broken by the familiar scuff of a foot against the window frame.

“It’s not usual for you to leave a window open for anyone to sneak in, i thought you were trained better than that. I noticed it last night and hoped it would be open for a rude awakening.” Temari chides, looking at the empty bed, most likely assuming I’d still be asleep. Gaara doesn’t release me, only turning us so he can face his sister,” and here I thought we agreed as a family, it was best not invade others privacy, Temari.” 

“Please, I hope you know the open window wasn’t the only thing I noticed last night. You truly are awful at camouflaging yourself for someone that’s supposed to be Kazekage.” Temari scoffs back, dropping effortlessly from the window sill to saunter smugly over before glaring at me and continuing,” and you give me shit about Shikamaru.”

“S-Shikamaru?” Gaara asks in disbelief as Temari shrinks in embarrassment,” as if! I have full grown adult brothers to worry about who still think they have to sneak out of the house to go anywhere, let alone creepily wait on a poor girls balcony to watch them sleep!”

“Shikamaru?” Gaara says again, finally releasing me as Temari turns so red, the sunset would be jealous of her new hue. He slowly stalks towards her, sliding his gourd on to his back as she clumsily retraces her steps back to the window in horror,” Gaara, let’s calm down here. We’re obviously both at a misunderstanding here. We’re adults now. We can talk this out.” 

Her leg stretches for the window, not wasting a second to clamber out and jump for the nearest roof as Gaara quickly follows,” Temari!” 

“Adults…Still kids if you ask me.” I yawn, diving ungracefully back for the bed, knowing I’d lucked out in not having to train today. They’d be chasing each other around the village for hours. Or so I’d thought, until a brief guest of wind signals one of them dropping back through the window. Gaara hastily plants a kiss against my forehead and huffs,” family dinner same time as usual tonight.”

“Got it.” I mutter, tossing a pillow at him as he quickly reaches for the window once again as i giggle to myself, enjoying the moment.

Life isn’t about happiness, it’s about finding the happiness in mutual struggles and awkward situations with others. It’s about finding peace in something that was once deemed hateful and soulless. It’s about creating a future in something you’d never thought had a chance. It’s about coming to peace with the demons you no longer fight alone in the middle of the night. 

Most of all, it’s about enjoying siblings that chase each other across a village so you could get another half hour of sleep. 

[soft-girl-musings]

WIP Wednesday

i'm on my period and in my feels today, so i'm distracting myself with wee scenes here and there

here's another part for my MK System x GN!Reader oneshot:

"Love?" "Hm?" "Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.” You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his tour the next morning but had gotten distracted. “Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.” Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp. “It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his. Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips. “Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

@hon3yboy @mrsnadeem send a moon boy over to take care of me while i bleed out lol

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

 And When You Move, I'm Moved

(Read on AO3)

My first BG3 fic, and it's a bit of tooth rottingly sweet smut with Gale and my Tav, Artemis.

edit: after some very nice comments on AO3 I finally feel brave enough to post this here

18+ Minors DNI (smut under the cut) p in v sex, hand jobs, romantic fluff

Artemis steps light-footed towards Gale’s tent, her elven grace keeping her footsteps in the gravel of the camp quiet as she pads forward and crouches down at the opening to lift back the material and check if he's asleep. The lantern inside his tent still flickers, a book held up and hiding his face. She’s not quite sure if he’s awake, but she whispers his name anyway, "Gale?"

Flinching, startled, his book falls onto his chest, but before he can say anything, he’s silenced by the vision of her illuminated by the moonlight outside. A smile crosses his lips at the friendly intrusion. “Tem? What are you – ”

Putting a finger to her lips, a sly smile grows from behind it as her turquoise eyes sparkle at him, the golden flecks around her irises illuminated by the lantern light inside his tent from his late-night reading. "I couldn't sleep," she whispers. Crawling in, Tem pushes back the white hair that hangs in front of her eyes before curling up beside him. "Did I wake you?" 

His arm wraps around her, pulling her closer until the curves of her link to him like the pieces of a puzzle. “No, I was wide awake, you caught me in a moment where I was deep in thought – thinking only of you.”

A soft smile pulling at her lips, Tem hums. It was a lie, but it was a charming one. "What were you thinking about me for?" she asks coyly.

Gale’s warm chuckle fills the quiet between them as he lets the silence hang for a moment. “I often find myself musing over you, my thoughts straying, reflecting on our first kiss…I’ve thought of little else since then. The taste, the feeling of your lips against mine, your breath against my skin…”

She rolls onto her stomach to get a better look at him, resting her chin on her forearms as her long waves of onyx and platinum hair coil together down her back. "It was a very good kiss, wasn't it?” She says with a grin, her cheeks blushing at the memory. 

“It was. Perfect even.” Gale breathes, savoring the thought for a moment before continuing. “And now, I've been ruminating on how those lips might taste the moment I wake. Of how I might savor your breath when I draw close and…”

He stops just short of kissing her, and her gaze falls to his mouth before looking up at him with wide eyes. “And?” She’s already swooning, her vision swimming in the flickering golden light as her heart pounds in her chest, thundering like a storm beating against the coastline. 

Gale smiles, a deep rumble filling his voice as he finally meets her gaze. “And how conceivably your heart might reverberate against mine as I lay with you.” He leans in closer, his breath whispering across her lips as his hand rests against the pulse in her neck. A smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Your heart’s racing.” 

She places her hand on top of his, clasping it tightly, feeling his own pulse through his flesh. “You have that effect on me.” Pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, her lips drift across his skin until they reach the lobe of his ear, and she whispers, "There's a grove just a quick walk from here. I'd rather be under the stars."

His brow raises, mouth opening and closing without words to speak as his throat bobs.

Her smile causes the crescents under her lips to wax into full dimples as she takes him by the hand and leads him out of the tent and into the wilds like a will o’ the wisp, glowing under the silvery light of the moon. 

In the grove, amongst the trees, the branches and leaves cast patterns as shadow dapples her face. Stopping where the light is especially bright, her skin reflects the silver of the moonbeams that glow upon her and he brushes his fingers through the white hair that frames her face, admiring how it seems to sparkle in the twinkling light of the stars. “A moon elf under the light of the moon. How fitting.”

"You're not the only one who appreciates poetry, Mr. Dekarios."

He raises an eyebrow, smiling as he hums at the sight of her. “You, my darling, are the sweetest sonnet.” Tangling his fingers in her silky hair once more, Gale draws closer, tilting his head as he leans down to kiss her.

She cradles his face in her hands, fingers drifting through the waves of hair that curl at his nape, and as she is lost in the feel of him her mind drifts and the thought of a bed fills her thoughts. Her hands slip from him, and her fingers point to the earth below, casting magic that produces a thick blanket of moss around them, a mattress of foliage for them to lay upon, dotted with fragrant wildflowers. 

The perfume fills his lungs and coats his tongue, and Gale is taken aback by the scene she’s created for them. “How very romantic.” Grinning, he pulls Artemis close to him and nuzzles his face against her neck, his lips brushing across her skin.

"Can't have your poor joints getting sore now, can we?" she teases.

Lowering to their knees, slowly , he leans back into the grassy bed she’s made them. She is quick to climb into his lap, to sit atop him, and her fingers move to the ties of her shift, loosening the bonds of her clothing as she leans down to kiss him.

Desire surges through him as her lips trace the outline of his mouth. Running his fingers along her back while his other hand gently kneads the soft flesh of her thighs, he pulls her closer. Groaning as her slender fingers stroke his jaw, burying her face into the crook of his neck, kissing him softly. Her tongue running along his thumping artery. He draws circles on the small of her back over the material of her shift and imagines the smoothness of her skin below. As the intensity of her kisses grows tenfold, his voice becomes husky, “I must have you.” He murmurs, “The truth is... I've been ruminating on this moment for far too long.”

“And you will have me. Patience is a virtue, Gale. Just let me make you comfortable.”

Pulling her hair aside to reveal her neck, his mouth explores every inch of her exposed flesh. “I’ve had trouble focusing on much else, it’s been quite vexing trying to control…” He trails off, his voice a whisper, his mouth pressed to her.

"Where your mind wanders to?" she asks, taking his chin in her hand, having him look in her eyes.

“When I imagine us like this…” His words are broken by a low groan as he pulls her even closer, intoxicated by her sweet, sultry aroma. “I cannot help but account for all the ways I could please you…”

Dragging her thumb along his lower lip, her voice lowers, "You need only be in my company to please me."

He breathes in deeply, the warmth of her breath as she speaks and the feeling of her caress upon his flesh sending a wave of pleasure down his spine. Pressing a passionate kiss against her lips, his hand moves to caress her cheek. “If you keep conversing like this with me... I’ll be powerless to wait much longer…”

Rolling off of his lap, Artemis lays out in the thick moss and grass, her hair flowing out around her head. She's a picture before him, the flowers framing her perfectly. Pulling off the thin shift, she lies nude in front of him. Perfectly in her element. He grins and lets out a deep rumble of pleasure as his gaze slowly travels down her body, his hand gliding over the skin of her hip. “I eagerly wish to please you, but the urge to leisurely savor every bit of you in this moment is far too commanding.” Brown eyes fall to her lips and his body begins to tremble with his need for her.

She sits up, her hands pressed into the spongy ground, her arms set wide on either side of her. Her smile is as bright as the constellations above. "Then savor me."

He exhales an excited gasp as he pulls her closer, pressing his lips to hers, his eyes fluttering shut, then opening to admire her figure. Her body is that of an artist’s muse, lithe and supple, with the soft curves he dreamed about in his days of solitude. Trailing kisses down her neck to her chest, his mouth wrapping around the nipple of each of her breasts, sucking and licking until they become hard. He moans against her flesh, his hands roaming over her form as each breath becomes heavy, his gaze burning with desire.

Taking one of his hands in her own, she brings his index and middle finger – smelling of the parchment of old tomes – to her mouth and she places them on her tongue, her lips wrapping around them as she begins to suck. He groans softly as he watches his fingers slip into her mouth. It’s warm and wet and he loses all sense of himself. His mouth falls from her breast with a wet pop and he draws his fingers from her mouth, pressing them to her chest, feeling her heartbeat as a flush overtakes her. "You are perfect." His mouth traces a line down her neck, his tongue gently lapping against her skin. 

The feeling sets her skin on fire, the whiskers of his beard burning against her. "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, Gale."

He licks his lips. “And right now, I'm so entranced by the vision before me I simply cannot take my eyes off of you.” Leaning in close, his body pressed against hers, his lips brush over hers as he gently caresses her thighs, teasing the skin. Their faces sit only inches away from each other, being this close to her, it’s like they are the only two in existence. “I want your lips. I crave your body.” His words are whispered, the volume a gentle rumble as he leans in closer, his breath fanning against her face . “I desire your heart, Tem... to have and to hold, to cherish and to protect from all harm.”

"You already have it. I've been yours since that moment I pulled you free of that portal."

His eyes light up as he hears her words, his breath catching in his throat, his kisses becoming frenzied, passionate. Tracing patterns down the smooth skin of the curve of her waist with fingers stained by ink. “You love me...?” He asks breathily, his lips kissing the hollow of her clavicle.

"Of course I love you.” She looks at him, her brow cocked. “You had reason to doubt that?"

“I struggle to believe someone could find such a heart as mine deserving.” 

Cupping his face in her hands, she gazes into deep, brown eyes. "You deserve all the love in the world, Gale. I know that Mystra hurt you, but I never will. You don't have to prove yourself with me. I adore you, just as you are."

He stares back at her, overwhelmed by the beauty he sees before him. His hand tracing down her cheek, cupping her chin. Her words warm his heart. Kissing her, gentle and tender, his lips sweet and warm as he smiles against her mouth. “I have no reason to believe a woman like you could ever harm me. You’ve been by my side when most would have abandoned me entirely. You deserve only the best.”

"I don't need the best. I don’t need gods. I just need you, Gale. The man before me. You need not be anything else."

His smile fades, but the desire in his eyes remains. “You are everything to me.” His voice a whisper. “I cannot imagine being without you. And I dread the day I can no longer touch your skin, hold you in my arms, and kiss the lips I adore.” 

"Well lucky for us both wizards and elves live extraordinarily long lives. You need not worry about that for quite some time."

His smile returns slowly. “You're far too good to me.” Kissing her gently, he leans down to lay on his back. “Perhaps this is me being selfish, but -” his voice is a low rumble, almost a purr, “I want to experience all of you for eternity.”

Resting on top of him, her chin on his chest, long black lashes fanning against the apples of her cheeks as she smiles. "I can't promise you forever, but I am yours entirely."

He sighs, wrapping his arms around her and running his fingers through her dark hair, his gaze lingering on the way the stars reflect in her eyes. “That's all I need. To be yours.”

She presses her finger to his mouth, quieting him. "No more words, Gale. Focus on the way this feels."  Undoing the ties of his robes, she frees him of the restraints of his clothing. "You are mine."

His body trembles with a deep thrill as she runs her fingers along his chest and shoulders, stripping him of the material that was draped upon his skin. Sliding her hands down the length of his body, she slips her hand down the front of his trousers. Her slender fingers caressing the sensitive head of his cock and his eyes go wide, but her fingers keep his mouth from opening. She strokes the length of him gently as he grows harder with each pump of her fist.

Gaze fixed upon her, Gale swallows heavily, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. “You'll never truly conceive of just how much I admire you.” His voice trails in a murmur as she continues, his eyes closing as shivers course through him. “I want -” His breath catches again, her touch forcing a moan to escape.

Pressing the tip of her nose against his, she smiles as he still can't help but speak. Her wizard who refuses to be silent and just enjoy the moment. "Shhh." She kisses his lips, denying him the breath to speak.

He shakes with pleasure, their gazes locked in a hypnotic dance as she kisses him. He tries one more time, the words stumbling out between short, labored intervals of breath. “I want…” Closing his eyes, his body rests against the soft blades of grass below him as he tries to turn his focus to take in the taste of her. 

Tem looks at him as if she can see the entire cosmos in his eyes, every star, every unseen region of time and space. He often speaks of the astral plane of the gods, a realm beyond the reasoning of any mortal. In this moment however, it's like the shockwaves from the birth of the universe ripple through the sparks between their skin. His cock getting harder in her grip, it starts to throb. It’s too much. Overwhelmed by sensation, he lets her drive him to the brink of madness, his hands slowly roaming over her body, her skin growing ever hotter as the sensations peak. He finally lets out a gasp, eyes wide. His voice is soft, lost to ecstasy. “Tem, I'm -” He can't help himself, the years of loneliness overwhelming him. But before he can reach his explosive end, her hands slip away from him, and rather than having her fingers clenching him tight, her hips lower down upon him and it’s like the rapture of the Weave as his body becomes entwined with hers. Held in the power of her magic. 

She gasps and moans consumed in their bond, and he loses himself to the power she holds over him. Her love is something he wants, something he needs - and by the Weave, his body tells him he has found it. His breath comes in heavy gasps, his hands roaming up her back. “Tem.” Her name falls from his lips, and he can do nothing but stare up at her as her teeth drag over the pout of her lower lip while wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her like the tide. He lets out a deep groan, his body responding to her every movement. There's little doubt of her love now. Dragging guttural sounds out of him as her velvet walls tighten around him becoming too much to bear. “I love -” He tries to continue, interrupted as his chest heaves, squeezing the very oxygen from his lungs.

Her head tosses back, and the wolf shape she usually takes on dares to break free, but she bites it back, refusing to let the beast come out. Remaining every bit the elf Gale fell in love with. "Gods, I love the way you feel," she cries out with tears in her eyes.

Holding her tight, his fingers dig into her hips, his nails catching along her skin. He’s desperate to hold onto sense, trying to memorize the way it feels being inside her, the sounds she makes, but his mind is taken far afield, running wild. 

She presses her forehead to his, her hot breath fanning against his face as she sucks on his bottom lip pulling him into a passionate kiss. Her nails scratch down his chest as her hips roll against him, curving up to take him deeper, the angle she has him held in rubbing against that perfect spot over and over again. It’s magical – there is no other word to describe it. Feeling their energies combine, meld and dance, a song written in the stars. The most natural thing in the world. Gale’s mind spins as the kiss consumes him. The feeling of her wrapped around him, her arousal drenching him – it’s too much to bear. His eyes shut and it feels like his soul has been bared to the world. "Gods..." He breathes, his voice shaky as he lets his body sink into the blanket of greenery. His eyes fixed on her gaze, his heart beating in his ears. Swallowing thickly, a chill runs up his spine and his hands grip her hips, as if to test that this was all real, and not some overly vivid dream.

Tracing her fingertips along the lines of the orb that rests below his chest, the dew of her sweat glistening in the moonlight, she looks down at him with heavy-lidded eyes as the afterglow begins to warm her. “That was…incredible.” 

Her hair blows around her in the breeze and he swears she has the appearance of a goddess. She is the sunrise and the bright glow of the moon all in one and he is in awe. Splendid rapture . Tem is a million symphonies, a thousand ballads, and the finest paintings and sculptures all made manifest in one soul. He can’t look away from her, and in this moment, he knows he never has or will love another except her. His deity, and he the Chosen of Artemis.

[voidberryart]

Prints and Stickers for Sale!!!

Here's a list of all items I currently have for sale in my shop! If you are interested in purchasing any items please head over to my Ko-Fi shop.

FYI: THE PRINT LABELED "LOST REEL" WAS AVAILABLE ONLY AS A SPECIAL OFFER FOR PERSONAL FRIENDS AND ACQUAINTANCES AND IS NOT AVAILABLE ON MY KO-FI SHOP.

[ID: An information sheet formatted as two purple boxes outlined in green over a black background. The first box is at the very top of the page and takes up only a small portion of room, containing only one line of text written in light purple font. The text reads "Awpie Redacted Prints". The second box taking up most of the rest of the page contains a series of images and text.

The first and largest image, in the top left corner, shows a realistic scene of space, with a large Jupiter-like planet taking up the foreground, a smaller Mars-like planet aligned to the first further towards the background, and a pinpoint of light like a close star aligned to the two planets further in the background. And in the background itself can be seen distant stars. This image is labeled with text next to it as "Convergence / 18x15 / $30".

The next image is to the right of the first and it shows a stylized drawing of a black fluffy cat with bright green eyes sitting up and looking to the viewer's right. The cat's head and tail both wisp off its body like smoky goo, and the head and tail and underbelly of the cat are all painted with a purple/pink/blue nebula. The cat is outlined in the same greenish yellow as its eyes, and the background behind the cat is another, more pinkish scene of a nebula in space. This image is labeled as "Void (holo) / 6x9.7 / $20 + free Pride Kitty sticker".

Below the left-side image are two more with a shared label beneath them. The image on the left shows Chell from Portal falling through a portal with another above her as she points her portal gun downwards, and is wearing a smiling, almost excited expression. The image on the right shows The Prisoner from Outer Wilds: Echoes of the Eye as a burnt photograph looking outside a large viewport aboard the Stranger towards the Eye of the Universe, with the signal blocker mechanism next to them. These two are labeled as "Freefall" and "Lost Reel" respectively with "11x14 / $20" underneath.

Two more smaller images take up the right side of this section. The top of these two images is a morning sunrise painted scene with colorful dense foliage framing the view. The bottom of these two images is another painted scene showing snow-capped mountain peaks and dense snowfall, with a night sky filled with a vibrant view of space and a large moon above. These are labeled as "Sunrise" and "Snowy Peaks" with the additional information of "7.2x6 / $10".

The last section of the page shows two sets of nine stickers each, both ordered in columns and rows of 3. The stickers on the left are all of a fluffy cat's face colored in with various different scenic backgrounds. These backgrounds include, from left to right/top to bottom, a scene of a bright green meadow, a blueish pink scene of space with a bright star shining down from the center, a purplish view of a cityscape through a dusty window, the cat's face painted in bright neon colors evoking an abstract vaporwave vibe, a view of a black hole and its accretion disk in purples and yellows with the face's outlining inverted from black to white, a pink and orange sunset with clouds, a blue and pink underwater scene with coral in the foreground, another sunset scene but with vibrant plantlife and in colors of the whole rainbow, and a midday scene of a grove of cherry blossom trees in colors of pink and blue and yellow. The other set of stickers all show the same simplistic drawing of a black fluffy cat much like the Void cat above, all holding a flag in its mouth but each flag showing a different pride flag. In order from left to right/top to bottom those flags are ace, aro, nonbinary, lesbian, rainbow, trans, pan, bi, and progress pride flags. This whole section is labeled with "Painted Kitty / 3in / $5" and "Pride Kitty (holo) / 2.3in / 1 - $3 / 2 - $5 / 9 (full set) $22" respectively. End ID.]

[meownotgood]

The lights in Hokkaido seem to glow even brighter when you're here beside him. 

Aki breathes out, a cloud of crisp, cold air wisping up from his mouth into the night sky, swallowed by the pale light of the moon. A thin veil of snow falls slowly; tiny, soft snowflakes brush his shoulders, they kiss the top of his head and they get tangled in the dark strands of his hair. The snow settles onto the branches of the dead trees, it covers the ground in a fluffy blanket of white.

He's not used to the city. There's a bridge that curls over the streets below, and from here, Aki has the perfect view; he can see the crowds of people shuffling below, the colorful lights that frame every tree, every hedge. They blend together until he can't make out anything but a wash of blue and purple and white and red.

There's people all around, laughing, taking pictures. Aki can make out bits and pieces of their conversations when their voices overpower the whistle of the wind. There's kids playing with the public binoculars, there's friends complaining about how cold it is.

And then, there's you, standing beside him, admiring the cityscape's luminous glow with stars in your eyes and your face buried in your scarf, Aki's scarf. He wrapped it around your neck when you mentioned how you forgot yours.

It's pretty, isn't it, Aki?

Yeah. Aki blinks, turning his gaze away from you and back towards the city. It's pretty.

The array of lights is a sight he's never known, but the dusting of snow is the one thing his heart can never seem to forget. When the cold works in through the back of his neck and the tips of his fingers, it settles in his bones like it's been there before. It's the kind of cold that feels like darkness coming sooner than you're ready for, that tastes sharp on the end of your tongue.

He's been here before. But he hasn't been here like this in a long time. How long has it been, ten, no, thirteen years? It's always quick trips. He doesn't give himself the chance to linger.

And you're with him. You: gentle soul, twin flame. You're here, even though Aki insisted you didn't have to come, even though he's never brought anyone to his hometown before. You're beside him, sweet when you shuffle closer until the puffy sleeves of your coat are pressing up to his, beautiful when the lights reflect the softness of your hue and when the shadows cradle the intricacies of your face.

You're here. You're right here, and everything is okay. Hokkaido always chokes him, but right now, Aki feels like he can breathe again.

With his gaze still locked on the city, Aki's hand drifts towards your own in a subconscious effort to be closer, and then, in a deliberate one when you feel his fingers delicately brush your knuckles. He exhales a soft sigh, he reaches for just a bit more.

His hand is cold, frost in the future of his palm and the crevices of his fingerprint, but his touch sparks a budding warmth. You feel it spread over your arms and your shoulders. It settles in your chest when he wraps his pinkie around yours like he's swearing a promise to love you.

Just the slightest touch. The two of you, connected by nothing more than your pinkies and the resounding beat of your hearts.

The world seems to grow quieter than it was before. The lights reflect brighter. Time becomes lost to the way the snow falls.

Aki doesn't say anything. Neither do you. But when you turn to leave, you make the promise official; locked pinkies work into your fingers lacing in between the gaps of his own. They become your hand held in his, giving him a tight squeeze when you tug him along.

And then, you're hand in hand as your boots scuff the sidewalk and crunch the snow, you're walking through the twists of color and the arches of twinkling lights without a care in the world, as if you and him are the only people to exist. Like this moment is living. A breath of life, from what was once a shallow grave. This, as simple as it is, is what it feels like to be alive.

Aki's got a ghost of a smile on his face, but when you turn to him once the two of you stop to admire another huge, light-bound tree, he's suddenly looking away, his lips pursed, eyebrows pinched, cheeks red from more than just the biting cold.

You okay? You look embarrassed.

At the sound of your voice, Aki turns towards you, and the moment he sees your face, he can't stop the smile from tugging at the corners of his cheeks, he can't hold back a weak sort of giggle that explodes into a happy sort of laugh.

It feels good to worry about something dumb. It feels good to melt in the comfort of simplicity.

There's a worry that's been lingering in the back of his head for a while now, coiling anxiety in his chest. But it's the good kind. It's the fluttery, dreamy, butterfly kind of anxiety. It makes him feel nervous, but giddy, and he isn't used to feeling this way, his heart doesn't know how to handle it.

He's not sure if he should keep laughing, or start crying. He doesn't know if he should kiss you like he's yearning to or if he should try to find the words to tell you just how much you mean to him, to admit to you right here and now that he's falling for you more than the snowflakes are, and he's been falling for a long, long time.

When he comes here, he's always restless, always thinking about something so much bigger than himself. But right now, he's worrying about something so stupid, so inconsequential. And he loves it.

You're teasing him when he doesn't reply — What, what is it? You gonna tell me? Aki laughs a little more when you pout and shake his arm by his hand, still linked with your own.

He glances around for a quick second. There's still people everywhere, people walking and admiring the lights, people eating from concession stands. People who are in love, who are walking side by side, connected, who look just like you and him...

Aki meets your pleading eyes, with a shy look in his own. He leans down a little closer, and he speaks quiet enough that only you, the snow, and the wintery puff of his breath can hear.

"It's just... when we're holding hands, it makes us look like a couple, don't you think?"

[lanxyuu]

Fanart for my fic I Know You See It (We Both Do) by @havenaxu!

It's genuinely breathtaking, especially how it reminds you so much of the atmosphere of the actual comic. The wisps and the picture frame detail in the panels give it the same beautiful artistic quality that the actual comic has <3 (plus the shadowy figure with the theory that it represents Yun's guilts/insecurities ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL ADDITION TO THIS SCENE I LOVE IT) The fact that I look at this and it feels like it's a canon page from the comic literally sends me over the moon :') this is like every fanfic author's dream.

And the "Below me, actually" panel, I CAN'T EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE IT. The candle backlighting them, THEIR EXPRESSIONS, it's all ON POINT, and flawlessly captures the dynamic I envisioned in my fanfic. I'm so happy they chose this banter moment to draw because they portrayed it perfectly.