#filipina!reader

[ofstarsandvibranium]

A/N: Joaquin Torres x Filipina!Reader bc not?

“Mahal?” You call out for Joaquin.

“Yeah, querida?” He responds from the living room.

“Can you taste this really quick?” You don’t look up from the pot of arroz caldo you’re cooking up.

It’s a chilly day in DC which means you’re cooking up one of your favorite Filipino comfort dishes.

“What’s up?”

You take a spoon and scoop out some of the rice porridge. You blow on it t cool it off and offer it to Joaquin. He happily accepts the offering and smacks his lips together to really get the flavor.

“Hm…maybe add a little bit more ginger? That your mom’s recipe?”

You shake your head, “No, my lola gave me hers because she said my mom changed the measurements so it’s not as flavorful.” You give a little bit of an eye roll. Very typical of your lola to complain about how your mom cooks.

Joaquin snickers, “Well alright. But yeah, maybe a little more ginger. It’s very garlicky and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

You give him a thumbs up and peck his lips, “Got it. Thanks, mahal. I’ll add more and then it’ll be ready.”

“Take your time, querida, I’m not in a rush,” he shoots you a wink and a smile before heading back to occupy his spot on the couch once more.

[needlereads]

aaaahhhh so steamy. and even more intense when you throw in all of Steve's newly sharpened senses. the way he adores her and is so in awe to get to see and feel and hear her on another level.

⸺ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝟰𝟬𝘀!𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — thanks to the super soldier serum, steve gets to appreciate your body in a way he never had before.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MDNI. porn without plot. smut: penetrative sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, copious amounts of cum bc i’m disgusting, pussy drunk steve.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

PUFFS OF AIR TICKLED your ear as sharp exhales left your lover’s body.

You too felt as if the oxygen had been drawn outside of your tiny little room in your shared Brooklyn apartment. You were lightheaded as Steve vigorously thrusted in and out of your cunt, the newfound heaviness from him and the heat radiating from his body still an unfamiliar furor to you. His hands were significantly bigger and meatier, able to engulf both of your wrists in one and pin them above your head. His chest was broader and fuller, the wall of muscle fiercely protecting the thumping heart that lay beneath it. His legs were longer and robust, never faltering despite the immense pleasure he felt while he was inside of you. And those arms. The arms that held you every night were large and burly. Nonetheless, they were feelings you welcomed with

He was still your Steve.

You knew he was when he removed his dewy face from the crook of your neck and stared right through your soul with those crystalline eyes. He gazed at you like a man seeing the sun for the first time. And perhaps he was. With his newfangled heightened senses, Steve could now view your beauty without interference. You resembled Aphrodite reincarnated as you lay underneath him, features twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. Your skin glowed in the candle light exquisitely, the tiny beads of sweat resembling tiny crystals shimmering against you. You were something straight out of a renaissance painting. Only no one else would see you like this, needy and wanton. Just him.

Like a shark sniffing out blood in the ocean, all rational parts of his brain shut down as his nose picked up the barest waft of your arousal. His jaw clenched as his pupils dilated. Steve’s clear-water ocean blues now donned a deeper shade, the kind of blue that made you fear what lurked below the undiscovered waters.  

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, his eyes involuntarily rolling to the back of his skull as your velvety walls squeezed his member when the tip of it hit a particular spot within you. “Fuck, sweetheart, I can smell you.”

A part of you felt embarrassed for a brief moment, the overly self-conscious part of you snapping you out of your trance. But then you looked up and were met with the sight of the love of your life plowing into you anomalistically, looking the most feral you had ever seen the golden boy look through the entirety of you knowing him. His gilded locks were a mess, pieces sticking to his sweat covered forehead. His head was slightly bowed, shoulders hunched as he slowly began to lose control.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” Steve whispered. “I didn’t think you could even feel any better—”

Releasing your hands from his vice grip, he grabbed hold of your hips for purchase. You could feel your delicate skin bruising under the pads of his fingers. Your Steve was not fully cognizant of his strength quite yet, you knew he could never leave a single mark on your body unless you begged for it. Yet, you cared not. His ferociousness was unleashing something within you. You liked watching him lose control in his new body of his that defied limitations. You were experiencing all of these newfound sensations right alongside him.

Your body jerked violently against the bed from the force behind each impel. With a sharp gasp followed by a string of pornographic, staccato cries, you outstretched your arms to pull him to you. Your vermillion varnished nails sunk into the meat of his back as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Look at me, Stevie,” You begged, swollen lips brushing against his. “Please.”

As if he was under your spell, his eyes snapped open to meet yours. A small whimper escaped his lips, his eyes falling shut for just a split second before he forced them open again, unable to look away from you for the life of him.

“I can see you,” He breathed in awe, eyed widening. “Holy shit, I can really see you.” His gaze trailed your body before finding its way back up to your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. The prettiest thing I have ever seen. Look how well you take me.”

It was your turn to whimper, his honeyed praises and the precision of his thrusts a deadly combination. Steve was right there with you. His nerves felt like they were on fire in the best way possible. Every vein on his cock was hypersensitive, highly receptive to every drag against your walls. He crashed his lips against yours as he lost control, shooting his load inside of you. Your own reverie hit you like a bus the second the first rope of cum painted your cavern. You mewled into his mouth, embracing him tightly as you felt his large body tremble. His moans turned into deep, guttural growls as he fucked his spent into you. Steve’s body fell forward weakly, his muscles turning into jelly as your pussy twitched around him.

With another growl and wave of trembles, he came once more. He sloppily continued to pump himself in and out of you, creating a mess where you were adjoined.

"Stevie,” You murmured, pressing kisses against his shoulders, chest, and neck as he came down from his high.

He went completely lax against you, resting his head on your chest as he wrapped his arms around you. With an ear flushed against your bosom, he listened to the sound of your heart with a clarity he never thought was possible. It was his new favorite song. Once its rampant pounding reached a ritardando, he lifted his head. His own heart swelled as he admired you in your afterglow. You belonged in the Sistine Chapel to be rightfully worshipped. Or perhaps in a Greek mythology book.

And yet, here you remained. With him.

Your eyes met his, and the two of you giggled in shock and disbelief. You nuzzled your nose against his before kissing him sweetly.

“This…This isn’t throwing you off?” Steve asked innocently.

You could not believe he had the sheer audacity to even ask you that after what had just occurred, but he wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t. That was all the confirmation you needed.

“You’ll always be my Stevie.”

© all rights reserved to honeystevie

[the-lazyyy-artist]

i saw you in a dream a two-part Karasu Tabito x Filipina!reader story part one

Synopsis: The Japanese Occupation was far kinder than you expected, especially in his eyes.

Word Count: 19.1k

Content Warning: historical au (based in the Philippines), talks about the Japanese Occupation in the Philippines, glimpses of the events during World War 2, love despite the war, angst

Author's Notes: I tried to be as mild as I could with the information of the war, as well as the reader's situation. Based on my research, some families were exempted from the horrors. I tried to be as clear as possible with the story too, so if you have any notes after reading, please let me know thru the comments, reblogs, asks, or DMs! I would love to discuss things with you guys!

Read part two here!

@fishii28 ✨

"We have to do this," your father iterated once more as he paced across the living room in anxiety, "It's for the safety of our family, Y/n, the safety of your sisters and your mother... most especially you. You're our eldest daughter, you have to understand."

"Compliance? For safety? How is that even a good thing, Papa? These Japanese are... massacring the country, our city! The best we can do is fight back!" You reasoned out, your voice raising in frustration. Of all people in the world, you would never expect your father to bend the knee to the colonizers. Sure, his allegiance is to the Americans, who also colonized your country after the Spanish did the same, but he held hope that they would be saved by them. For now, he has to think of the best way for his family to be safe, especially with the news going around about the abuses against women. He couldn't bear to live the rest of his life thinking that the women in his family would be facing the same fate as everyone, so compliance with the Japanese was the best option.

"My dearest, please. I don't want you to be..." he sniffled and lowered his head, then he cried in anguish. "I don't want to endanger all of you. The situation is hard, I understand that, but the best way for us to be safe is to side with them. Despite the crimes they're committing to our country and the people, we need to be safe. Think of yourself, Y/n. Think of your mother and your sisters. They're still so young." He walked towards you and pulled you into a hug, the tightest he had given you. "I love our country. You know that out of everyone. But right now, my love for my family overcomes that."

Two weeks later, a Japanese General, accompanied by his Lieutenant General, entered your home and had a written agreement with them, officially making your family untouchable from the atrocities of the war. You listened to their conversation from your room, peeking through the crack of your door. It was a surprise that the General had some English skills, which you then figured that maybe they had to learn for the invasion. From what you have gathered in their conversation, they have laid out some privileges for the family: you'll sustain your way of life and be exempted from the abuses, forced labor, and serve as entertainment for the soldiers.

That was good enough, you thought.

You then heard a cry from the other room. Your youngest sister's voice can be heard through the walls, and unfortunately, throughout the house. You saw the General and Lieutenant General perk up as soon as her cries spilled out. Your parents' bedroom door flew open, and out went your sister, crying for your father. "Maria!" You exclaimed, bursting out of your room to grab her before she could even reach the living room. You carried her in your arms despite her protests, but your eyes landed on the guests, specifically the Lieutenant General. He was about your age, a little stern at first glance. His blue eyes met yours, full of curiosity and a tinge of annoyance from the disturbance. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you said as you walked away, carrying your crying sister back to your parents' room, closing the door behind you.

A few moments have passed, and you heard the bedroom door open, revealing your father, looking more distraught than he should be. He looked at you with apologetic eyes, and your stomach flipped at the sight. "What did you do, Papa?" you asked, your voice anxious and breaking.

"I'm sorry, my dearest. It had to be done."

Lieutenant General Karasu Tabito became a frequent visitor to your home. The reason? He became interested in you despite your short presence that day, thanks to your good-for-nothing sister. You're forced to face him every day with soft fake smiles that never reached your eyes. You try your best to be kind, at least just for the facade, so your family would be safer. You try your best to entertain his stories, all interesting and questionable. You try to respond accordingly, just as how your mother trained you all these years when the time comes for suitors to arrive at your doorstep.

Karasu was nothing but patient and kind, though sometimes, his eyes gave it away. He would sometimes look like he was analyzing you, the way you move, the way you speak, the way you laugh. Then one day, he said, "You're faking." That caught you a little off-guard. You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat, pulling your skirt down your knees. "I beg your pardon?" you replied.

"I don't like the way you're faking your interactions with me."

Like any other person in this time of war, hearing that would feel like a death sentence, especially with the situation your family was in. You, acting like their sacrificial lamb to this Japanese soldier, and him, a wolf. You smiled at him and shook your head. "I don't think I understand."

"Y/n, I know you feel forced to talk to me almost every day. But I want to let you know that I'm not like anyone out there. I don't agree with what they're doing, and I would..."

"You would?"

"If there wasn't a war, things like taking an interest in knowing you better wouldn't be that hard. Because I want to know you more and take you as my wife," he continued, his eyes full of honesty.

It took a year before you agreed to marry him, which your father was more than enthusiastic about. For him, it meant that your alliance and complacency with the Japanese colonizers were now set in stone and that your family would be forever safe from the horrors you read from underground newspapers that often arrive on your doorstep. You made sure Karasu never found any of it every time he visited your home before the marriage.

Life with him was peaceful, or it seemed to be. You were away from all the noise, and Karasu ensured you would live as a married couple peacefully. Every morning, there was a routine of you two drinking coffee at the dining table, him reading the newspaper, Japanese issued ones, and you humming a tune. It was lovely. Sometimes, he'd hold your hand as he drinks his coffee, and you'd smile at him.

Mornings also included helping him into his uniform every time he's being called to the office, ironing it to perfection. You'd help him button up his shirt, then hand him his hat, sometimes dusting it off before you do. "I'll be back soon," Karasu would say with a smile, and you'd respond, "Take care."

Your afternoons are spent tending the garden and listening to the vinyl records your father gave you as a wedding gift. They were pretty old, and you played them anyway. You'd sway alone in the living room until you grew tired. Then it was time to prepare dinner for you and your husband.

He'd consistently arrive home at 6:00 PM, leaving his boots by the doorway before he walked to you as you worked in the kitchen. He'd give you a chaste kiss on your temple, whispering, "I'm home." You're always glad whenever he comes home because it means things haven't gotten worse yet.

One night after dinner, while you were washing the dishes, humming a tune you heard from one of your records, you heard Karasu rummage through the same shelf of records in your living room. You weren't concerned, no. It's just he never once had an interest in your collection, yet here he was. Then you heard him put on one of the records to the record player you had in your home.

"Y/n," he called out, his feet padded on the wooded floor of your shared home, "dance with me." You looked at him over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Just after this, Karasu."

He sighed as walked nearer to the sink where you were and turned off the faucet. You faced him with a slight disappointment on your features and he just smiled at you. He took a towel hanging from the drawer handles, and then wrapped your hands with it, drying them for you. "The dishes can wait. Please, dance with me." You could only nod and walk back with him to the living room as the scratchy music filled the living room. Karasu placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, beginning to sway with him. "We never danced before," he stated in which you hummed in reply. "I think the war hasn't let us, Karasu."

He shushed you softly as he shook his head. "No mentions of war in this home, Y/n. I told you that before, remember?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. No need to. I want us to live away from it, even if we have to pretend. Keep your mind away from it."

Karasu sighed shakily as he pulled you closer to him, embracing you. You can feel the tension radiating from him, so you rest your hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "Karasu, what's wrong?"

"You've been calling me Karasu for the longest time. Maybe it's time for you to call me Tabito," he said, his voice low, ignoring your question. You nodded and spoke his name. It felt new on your tongue, but it sounds much better now that you won't be calling his, and your, last name. Tabito rested his forehead against yours as you two were engulfed by the silence of the night and the hum of your record player.

It wasn't long until that peace slowly faded as Tabito would spend more time away from your home.

He came home with news of a possible battle, one that was inevitable. He told you in great detail what Japan would do to defend the Philippines from the Americans, and it would be bloody. You listened to him intently, holding his shaking hands. Tabito warned you of two outcomes: either they will lose and leave the country, or Japan will continue their reign over the islands. If you were asked right now, you don't know what to feel. If you were still 2 years younger, you'd feel overjoyed about the liberation of your country. However, now that you've come to know Tabito, and eventually, loved him more than you imagined, Japan losing would mean him leaving you behind.

The news of Japan's surrender broke you.

The sight of Tabito running to you and apologizing broke you.

"I know I never told you this in our whole marriage but remember that I love you. I loved every moment with you, and I would trade everything to be with you," he cried as he cupped your wet cheeks. "I love you, I love you, Y/n."

He left the next day along with the other Japanese troops, leaving you in your once-shared home.

It's such a shame, others would say, that your Japanese husband left you without a child. That you were left alone with hopes of him returning to get you. That after 3 years, you ended up lying on your deathbed.

That your last words before you closed your eyes were his name.

A second part of this story will be posted soon, so keep an eye!

[justiceiswater]

He does it cuz he loves her!!! Heart heart heart! Full heart!

Snack Time

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x Filipina!Reader

As requested by anonymous:  Maybe a kind of To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AU where Peter P goes to get her favourite drink/chichirya from the Filipino store to impres her???

Translations:

chichirya - junk food/snack food

Filipina!Reader Inserts Masterlist

Peter and Ned were already at their table when you entered the cafeteria. You made your way through the maze of tables and students to finally plop down beside Peter, “Hey guys!” you flipped some of your (black/brown) hair off your shoulder and sighed. 

Keep reading

[the-lazyyy-artist]

i saw you in a dream a two-part Karasu Tabito x Filipina!reader story part two

Synopsis: The dreams of a distant war led you to believe that he could exist now. Maybe he did.

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warning: Discussions of history (especially with how Japan teaches it), reincarnation au, reoccurring dreams, fluff, a little ooc (sighs again i know), mentions of Karasu's childhood experiences (lmao huhu)

Author's Note: Now, I know that the discussions of Japan's way of teaching their people about the history of WW II are quite different from how the rest of the world tells it and how it's still controversial, I dabbled lightly around this sensitive topic just to give an insight of how the reader and the other characters dealt with it. I just wanna give you a heads-up on that. If you have any insights about it, please let's discuss it together through replies, reblogs, dms, or asks. I want everyone who reads this part to have an open mind and be willing to give out their points in terms of writing and history. Thank you so much for reading the first part.

Read part one here!

@mininji @wannabepoeticischiya @x3nafix ✨

You were 8 years old.

The dream was always blurry like a camera lens that needed some wiping. The voices sounded underwater; only its tone was familiar to you. The song from the record player was oddly clear to you, but you never figured out what the song was. You can feel the grief in it... because, in the dream, you were the woman left behind by... what was his name again?

At a young age, you'd always read the story of the Japanese Occupation in the Philippines in your History Book almost every week, memorizing the events. However, to your knowledge, you know that there's something more than just the important date of when the Bataan Death March started and where the destination was or what McArthur said when he fled the Philippines for safety. 

You asked your teacher to tell you more when the class reached the lesson, being the only one awake and active in such a boring class. She was more than willing to tell you more after classes for a one-on-one session, further increasing your excitement. She warned you as you sat comfortably beside her desk that the deeper event of the colonization wasn't for children, to which you only responded, "I'm a big girl, teacher! I'm sure I can handle it." 

You did not.

Because who even knew that there were abuses against women, forcing them to bring men comfort? Who even knew that the Philippines suffered the most because of the battles between Japan and America? Who knew the country was almost erased from the map because of the war? Who knew that it was a bloody part of the country's history?

You struggled to sleep that night, and the dream didn't help you much.

By age 12, your parents took you to Japan as they worked there. It was better for everyone to be together; they told you to comfort you as you cried and cried not to let you leave your grandparents' house. They promised a complete family if you just go with them this time. The plane ride in a foreign country, the country that did so much damage to your homeland, made you feel nauseous. You didn't want to be with these people, you thought, as you sat in your seat, unable to understand anyone in class. It was a sad sight. You were thankful that your dad was patient enough to teach you basic phrases and Hiragana. "You'll get better when you make friends. That way, you can talk and learn from them," he told you one night after your nightly tutoring session.

Easier said than done. Until someone did approach you.

He was nice, at least. He didn't care much that you were different and quiet. He sat beside you one day and said, "Otoya." You replied with your last name, and he nodded. Then he started to talk. You tried to understand what he said, and he was patient enough to let you process what he said before saying more. He was so chill around you that you brought him home to introduce him to your parents, saying, "Ma, Pa, Otoya," then turning to Otoya, saying, "Otoya, Ma, Pa."

It was a weird sight that your parents talked to him more than you did to him, your parents translating what they just said in your native tongue. Slowly, he became a frequent visitor in your home, being around whenever your father gave you your daily language lessons. When you started to get the hang of the language, you finally had a proper conversation with him without writing your questions and responses on paper. There would be times that Otoya would correct you, and you'd roll your eyes at him at which he'd just shrug.

You told him about the dream, how it's connected to history, and how your country suffered. You and Otoya had a silent argument about what version of history was right, almost causing both of you to almost break off your friendship.

You decided to say sorry and to just drop the history thing. But Otoya was still intrigued by your dream.

"Might be reincarnation," he said as you two were taking a break from studying, lying on the hardwood floor of your living room. His silvery hair shone from the sunlight streaming through the window. You sighed and started to fidget on the hem of your shirt. "That would be weird. Why would I be a reincarnation of a sad lady?" you asked quietly. Otoya turned to look at you, his slanted eyes looking bored yet interested. "Maybe you'd grow into one," he teased, his tone unchanging. He always spoke nonchalantly, but you always picked up the intention of his words through the little quirks of his voice. You grabbed your notebook and slapped his head with it, earning a little "ow" from him. "And you'd grow up into a miserable old man who will never get a girlfriend."

Otoya laughed softly and shook his head. "You're wrong. I'm already on my sixth girlfriend this year," he said, his laughter fizzled into a small smile on his lips. "Eugh, we're in our second year of middle school and you had 6 girlfriends already? Gross." 

"If you aren't so hung up with your dreamscape husband, maybe you'd enjoy dating too," he replied, sitting up. The ends of his silver hair dropped on his forehead, then he fixed the green streak in front. "Are you really gonna grow your hair out?" you asked, ignoring his comment from earlier. Otoya nodded and messed his hair up a little. "I read somewhere that girls are into guys with longer hair. Might wanna try that out."

You let out another gagging noise before you sat back up. "Enough with the dating talk. You disgust me."

You noticed that the dreams were becoming clearer yearly, revealing more events. The conversations were a little audible, the faces of your dreamscape siblings were no longer a blur, and the song... you were finally able to figure out the tune of the song. The moment you woke up one day, you quickly hummed the song through your phone's voice recorder, hoping one day you'd find the title. 

By the time you reach the age of 17, you realize you've been having the dream more frequently than before, sometimes five times every couple of months. By now, you know how deep the man's voice was, comforting and warm despite the situation. He was caring, he was kind. You wondered if Otoya's guess years ago of this being a reincarnation was true because now, you only wanted to find someone like the man in your dreams. How much of a coincidence would it be when you find the same person as him?

Five years have passed, and you have slowly forgotten about the dream. Maybe it was just your busy life that made you forget how you had it for the past year. Now, it's just an afterthought, a memory of how you experienced a love story every time you closed your eyes at night. 

The classroom door opened, revealing Otoya and the security guard following behind him. "Eita! It's class hours, what are you doing here?" You asked, pushing him out of the room. The kids inside the room gasped and giggled, hushed conversations between them. "You're attracting too much attention now," you scolded him silently. Otoya shrugged and replied, "Come with me this weekend." Typical Otoya, not acknowledging the commotion he's causing. Now kids are lurking by the door, looking at the star footballer and wondering what he's doing with their beloved English teacher. You smiled at them and asked them to get inside, your sweet voice filling the hallways. The kids giggled and hid behind the door. "Eita," you said, returning your focus to your childhood friend, "you could've texted me that you're back in town."

"You could've been busy, and this is easier. I've invited some soccer friends to visit and take them around the city. Plus, they don't believe I have a best friend, so come with me," Otoya replied, his voice a little sing-song tune, but when he sounds like that, he's annoyed. You scoffed, reaching out to tug his green-streaked hair gently. "Alright, I'll accompany you and your friends. Just text me the details so I can clear my schedule, but only on the weekend. Okay?" 

As soon as Otoya nodded, you started to push him out of the hallway. "Now you have to leave. The kids might not be able to stop themselves from seeing more of you." Otoya nodded and waved at the kids peeking through the door, watching him leave. The moment you turned to tell the kids to get back inside, they started to bombard you with questions about your relationship with Otoya and how you knew him. You sighed, knowing that the lessons would be put aside for this.

The moment Karasu heard Otoya mention your name in the locker room after their last match, he knew.

The dreams, he knew this is what it meant. He knew that he was going to meet you one day. "Who?" he asked.

"Oh, interested?" Otoya replied, "Too bad 'cause she's in love with someone else."

He must be interesting, Karasu thought, but meeting you might change everything. Maybe. Chigiri chimed in, saying he doesn't believe that Otoya has a best friend when all he talks about are girls and how to pick them up. "How about we visit each other's hometowns while off-season?" Otoya suggested, throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder, and waiting for Karasu and Chigiri to finish up. Chigiri shrugged, saying he was okay with it. Karasu agreed too, saying it would be interesting to look around.

Your name has been on his mind for years, it's crazy. He has never told anyone about his dreams, how he sees himself as a soldier in high ranks, marrying a girl in a country he has studied so much about, learning as much as he could, even the parts he cannot accept at first but kept his mind open for the possibility that it might be true. It was crazy enough that people might start making fun of him for it, so he kept it to himself, kept it in his heart, and swore to find you, even if the possibility of meeting you were low. He believed that in his ordinary life, this dream made it extraordinary.

The dreams started when he was 8. Every night, it’s always so clear. Karasu could see the face of the lady, the way she smiled, the way she cried when he left, the way she looked when he danced with her. The sad lady, he once called her, became his favorite dream. Maybe that's why he rejected Marisa. He was too in love with her. 

It was sad when he dreamt of the lady less and less as he aged. He could remember her name, her face, and her voice. Karasu knew that this might have meant something.

He read about reincarnation in other religions and how it works. He read about it in fairytales and watched it in romance movies his sister loved to watch. Karasu knew he could be reaching, but if he kept dreaming of a certain woman, this might be it.

Now it seemed fate was working overtime as he and Chigiri waited for Otoya to pick them up at the station. It was a lovely day, too. The breeze was gentle and cool, and the sky was as blue as ever. 

He knew this would be the day he’d meet the sad lady.

"Sup," Otoya greeted as he arrived, walking towards the two. "Where's your best friend?" Chigiri asked, looking around, "You said your 'best friend' would be here."

"She will be here. She has some school things to do," Otoya responded.

"Student?" Chigiri asked.

"Nah, teacher."

The day went on as Otoya took Karasu and Chigiri to local spots to avoid a surge of tourists that day. Otoya was good at playing tour guide for the two, taking pictures of each other, noting places with great deals, and buying souvenirs for their families. It was not long before Otoya took Chigiri and Karasu to Sakae District, awaiting your arrival.

And Karasu knew you before you even spoke.

God, you looked exactly like how you did in his dream. The kind eyes, a smile that could take every worry away, and your hair, though longer, was the same. But you weren’t as sad as you were in his dreams. "Is that her?" Karasu asked, his eyes glued on you as you walked towards them. "Yep."

"Hi, guys! I'm sorry I joined you so late! Had to grade the kids' essay papers," you said, your cheerful voice somehow lifting their exhaustion. Otoya threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you to him. "It's alright. We had fun without you anyway."

"Rude," you scoffed, nudging his rib with your elbow. "Are you gonna introduce me to your soccer friends, Eita?"

"Ah, right. Karasu, Chigiri, Y/n. Y/n, Karasu, Chigiri."

Your mind somehow sparked at the name. Karasu. Where have you heard that name again? 

His eyes met yours, pretty blues that reminded you of something distant. A memory? His smirk reminded you so much of someone you met before. He was familiar yet a stranger, someone you want to know more and get close to. What was this feeling?

You held out your hand for Chigiri, which he was happy to shake, and turned to Karasu who held your hand firmly, and for a split-second...

You were taken back to the conversations in the dream about the war and the soldier telling you he loved you, how he told you he wanted you as his wife, and how his name was...

"Tabito?"

Karasu smiled at you as he stepped closer, meeting your gaze once more.

"So, it really is you, Y/n. I've been waiting to meet you for years."

[eydi-andrius]

Not me crying, blushing and dreaming about all of the scenarios written here for Noche Buena. Then I feel so sad right after because I know they're not real and I hate men. Lmaaaoooo

Another beautiful written prompt, Rika! 👏 You're so amazing! 🫶✨💖

𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎

𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐀

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, & 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

(𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧. 𝗠𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗢 & 𝗠𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗞𝗢, & 𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜)

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ so, it’s officially the night of december 24, also known as the most important day for filipinos, also known as…..the noche buena incident. time to bring your man home and see if he can survive in a houseful of nosey, all too-happy go-lucky filipinos. 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. typical filipino family gathering things. drunk titos. lots of karaoke. slight angst. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Gets excited for Noche Buena every year because it means he gets to be a menace. 

Christmas celebrations with the Gojo Clan are so stiff and formal. He finds them incredibly stuffy and cold, void of the warmth the holidays are associated with. 

Therefore, he clings to you and your family. It makes you feel horrible for him. 

……but like I said, he uses this as an excuse to be an absolute menace too so your sympathy only exists up until a certain extent. 

If you had it your way, you’d keep him out of the house throughout the entirety of prep day because with him around, things don’t get done as fast. 

He doesn’t just distract you, but he distracts your family and they love him so much that they’ll drop everything just to goof around with him.

That being said, Satoru absolutely survives Noche Buena. If anything, he thrives in it. 

For sure brings the majority of the desserts being served. 

He’s nailed down your family’s Buko Pandan recipe, even knowing which Gulaman to buy. He’s single handedly put someone’s mom out of a job by becoming the sole bringer of Buko Pandan to family gatherings 

Along with that, he brings a shit ton of other desserts like leche flan, puto, chocolate cake, and Kikufuku. 

Literally can blend in with EVERYONE.

He gossips with the titas then checks the SHIT out of them before he leaves to go have a beer with the titos, then makes his way to all the cousins your age, and eventually, you kinda lose him until you hear his maniac laugh from upstairs and the little cousins squealing and running. 

Lowkey spends most of the night fucking around with the kids.

You find him in someone’s room in a massive pillow fort and all the little cousins are huddled in there. 

Highkey the life of the party. 

Definitely joins the drunk titos for karaoke and eggs on their drunk antics.

By the end of the night, he’s just sleepily resting his head on your chest looking up at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

All he can do is hold onto you tightly and thank you for giving him everything…especially a real family and a chance to just be a person. 

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Of course he survives noche buena. 

Not a single person can find a flaw in him. He’s so dignified and refined that not even the fact that he took in twin girls at the age of 18 is questionable to anyone

If anything, it just makes your family, especially the elders, be like “Diyos ko. Ang selfless naman!” and boom their love for him is officially cemented into the fucking earth. Filipinos love a good charity story. 

Nanako and Mimiko are doted on literally the entire time. They’re so pretty and well-behaved, which makes everyone love Suguru even more because his kids are proof that he’s a good dad.

 That being said, everyone will be asking you when you both are gonna have a baby the entire night. 

Suguru shuts down all that talk in a nanosecond. As much as he loves your family, it’s not their business. You are his priority and he won’t stand idly and watch your bodily autonomy be pondered with as if it’s up for discussion. 

The titas never ask that question ever again. 

For sure brings some sort of meat that he spent an entire night marinating and the next day cooking like Yakiniku, lobster and steak, or prime rib. He wants to give your family the impression that he takes feeding them seriously and with high regard. 

Everyone wants a piece of his dish because his holy hands touched it. Even if he were a bad cook, no one would say anything. They would simply eat everything and praise him for contributing. 

He sticks by your side throughout the night, joining in on the conversation or simply observing you as you discuss with stupid lovesick eyes.

He’ll leave once in a while to check on Nanako and Mimiko or have some quick chit chat with the elders and the titos, but he always finds himself back at your side. 

Tries his best to not laugh whenever someone off-tune in your family is busting their ass during karaoke, but eventually, he has his head on your lap with his face red from cackling so hard.

Long story short, your family looks forward to seeing Sugurg more than you. He’s the golden child. 

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Your family finds him intimidating and standoffish in a way that borders rude, but they’re too awed by his handsomeness to even give a shit.

But he’s only a little stiff because he’s incredibly nervous. He knows how much your family means to you and wants nothing but to get along with them for your sake. 

Once he warms up, everyone gets to see the charming, sweet, and gentlemanly Kento you know and love. 

He is the PERFECT man for you according to your family…and for your other titas and cousins should things between you two not work out. 

He brings a very big and elaborate charcuterie board paired with a few bottles of wine. 

The main attraction? His homemade ube and cheese pandesal and slices of French baguette. 

Everyone gets a nosebleed watching him roll his sleeves up and slice the bread. Even your titos.

The titos love him because he can out drink him and they think he’s the epitome of a man.

If Nanamin has decided to go Papamin and bring Yuuji, he only earns more respect from your family. 

Everyone loves Yuuji because he’s a ray of sunshine who eats everything the titas and lolas put on his plate with enthusiasm. 

All you hear throughout the night is, “Ay, Yuuji! Try this one, anak. Ma sarap.” “You’re such a good boy, Yuuji.”

Similar to Suguru with Nanako and Mimiko, seeing how well-rounded Yuuji is and knowing it’s because of Kento’s influence will only earn him more respect. 

Also similar to Suguru, he sticks to your side the entire night. He’s there for you after all. 

Makes your plate for you with all of your favorite foods and the perfect amounts of everything. Even your dessert plate. 

He compliments everyone’s food politely and the next thing you know their eyes are morphing into the shape of hearts. 

If you don’t marry him, they will.

Good thing he’s already planned that step. 

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

….Can’t even lie to you, everyone thinks he’s a felon at first. 

How the hell did he get that scar? He’s a single dad? Anak, that’s not good! He comes with baggage! 

Toji is immediately suspicious to everyone. 

But they quickly learn not to judge a book by its cover.

Their lesson? Megumi. 

Your family witnesses firsthand how mature and intelligent Megumi is and they’re like…no..he couldn’t possibly–

YEA. THAT BOY WAS RAISED BY THAT SCARY MAN. 

They start opening their minds up to Toji and suddenly all the signs appear. 

The way he looks at you? The way his touch is always soft? The way he hovers over you protectively like he’s about to catch a bullet for you at at moment? The way he tells your family that he named Megumi his name because Megumi is his blessing? 

Toji is just a family man who has had a rough life. He loves you.

And that’s all your family can ask for; a family man who loves you. 

At some point your mom can’t handle the whispers anymore and while you three are off making your rounds to everyone, your mom gives them some context–his wife died, and he raised Megumi by himself. 

Boom. Sympathy points secured. 

Although no one will admit that they’ve misjudged him or directly apologize for doing so because of pride, they all go home with heavy hearts that night. 

Toji though? He doesn’t give a shit. He knows what it’s like to cut off “family”. He’s already detached himself from all of those who judged. It’s you he proves himself to, not them. 

He takes it in stride, not ruffling any feathers. He knows all it takes is one look from him for everyone to shit their pants anyway.

In true dilf fashion, he brings Filipino-style barbeque chicken and a beer. 

Suddenly the titos are besties with him and he’s one of the guys. 

He eventually congregates with them when a boxing match comes on. Megumi sticks by your side like the best boy and gets cooed at while he eats. 

Toji periodically comes back to embarrass Megumi.

This man literally picks him up and holds him in the air while cooing to him like he isn’t a whole teenager. 

That wins over everyone officially. 

He’s just a dad a man trying to be a good husband now that he has a second chance. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re ─ do not repost, translate, copy, or plagiarize my work in any form.

[justiceiswater]

This is peak adorable! That Peter roped Tony into helping makes me so pleased. I feel like Tony’s favorite thing is just building and creating for others

Costume Hunting

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x Filipina!Reader

As requested by anonymous:  Maybe a Filipino!reader x Peter P where she’s struggling to find a perfect costume for Halloween due to the fact that there’s not many options for her due to the lack of Filipinas in movies, tv shows and books… I’ve always had this problem when Halloween comes around…

Filipina!Reader Inserts Masterlist

Halloween. You always dreaded the Halloween season. You loved trick or treating and going to Halloween parties. However, what you heavily disliked was dressing up. As a Filipino woman, you struggled finding the perfect costume for you. All of the costumes you would see from childhood up to now were for characters that were white with white skin and blue eyes. You definitely hated the fact that lack of Filipino representation in American media reflected this. So when Peter asked if you were going to MJ’s party, you declined.

Keep reading

[haravath0t]

THIS WAS JUST SO WHOLESOME I CANNOT HELP BUT SMILE AND GIGGLE THROUGH IT OH MY GOD

─𝐘𝐎𝐔❜𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄,

𝐌𝐑. 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇

𝗠𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗟 𝗢’𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ "and so, the grinch's heart grew three sizes" || in which your grumpy husband thinks it's feasibly too early to start decorating for christmas, but knows better than to mess with a filipina and her christmas decorations.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. miguel being the cutest grumpy husband ever.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔��𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

“JUST A FEW THINGS.” MIGUEL SAYS STERNLY, a large hand on the small of your back as he leads the two of you into your nearest craft store. 

“Yes, bebito.” You coo, smiling up at him innocently. 

Miguel, however, is not falling for any of your traps. If being married to you taught him one thing, it is that Filipina women were stubborn. His wife could singlehandedly harvest enough power to fight God himself for fun should she feel like it. As gorgeous as that smile was, he was not going to be swayed by the siren’s call. Not today. 

There was no way in hell you were leaving with just a few things though. He knew that much no matter how hard he tried to rationalize with you, reminding you of the numerous color-coordinated tubs of holiday decor in the garage. Miguel could do nothing but deploy useless means of stopping you. 

“We have enough at home.” 

“No such thing.” 

“Do not even start with me. You do this every year. Do Halloween and Thanksgiving not exist to you?!” Miguel argues, feeling his wallet ache as you add another box of glittery champagne-colored ornaments to the cart. 

His words make you whip around to face him, an incredulous expression on your face. 

“Ma yabang mo. Do you think you’re too good for Christmas?” 

Your husband sighs exasperatedly, mumbling a flurry of explicit words in Spanish under his breath as he rubs his eyes. 

“Mami….it’s barely October.” Miguel grumbles. 

“I know! We’re late!” You whine.

And yet, as bratty as you were, Miguel did nothing to stop you. He simply could not–not with the gleeful expression your delicate features wore or with the childlike awestruck sparkle in your eyes. It was easy for him to see the negative in this world. After all, he had loved and lost and now dedicated himself to keeping the multiverse in order as a result. But if there was one thing that brought light back into this world, it was you. You, you, you, you. 

And so, he watches with a barely detectable smile as he hoovers over you, happily pushing the shopping cart after you like a dutiful husband. 

all rights reserved to fushic0re © ─ do not repost, translate, copy, or plagiarize my work in any form.

[dinums]

The Unexpected Visit Masterlist

Thomas Shelby X Filipina Reader

Summary: A modern Filipina woman had accidentally traveled through time and found herself in Birmingham, in 1999.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (Coming soon)

[kara-records]

another sugawara koushi x filipina 🙂‍↕️

Spending moments with your boyfriend (it feels unreal to even call him that) will forever be etched in your core memories. Sugawara Koushi is everything you could ask for in a partner and more. You loved everything about him and with confidence you know he loves you as much, if not more.

One of the many things you absolutely adore about the boy is when he asks you to teach him your language—Filipino. And that's what's happening this certain afternoon. He was asking about endearments and such. Though he had a hard time understanding some words, he'd always push through.

“Hmm...mahal¹ ? Doesn't that mean ‘expensive’?” Sugawara tilted his head, giving you a smile albeit confused with the language. You couldn't help the laugh that came out, causing him to pout at you. “Ang cute mo, Koushi!² ”, you softly pinch his right cheek endearingly. "You're not wrong though, it could also mean that.", you clarified. The setter still pouting but now adorned with a blush, continued to ask, “But really, what does mahal mean?” beaming at him you say, “It means love, mahal ko³.”

As Sugawara processed the information, a wide smile shone on his face. “Mahal.”, says before he pecked you at the lips, a cheeky grin appeared as your face flushed red.

Starting from that moment, without fail, he would always call you love or my love. No matter how much teasing he gets from his team (Daichi and Tanaka to name a few), he does not shy with showing his affections to you.

How could he be embarrassed of you and your relationship? Sugawara Koushi loves you and you love him.

"mahal" = love

"Ang cute mo, Koushi!" = You're so cute Koushi!

"mahal ko" = my love

idk guys i kinda like sugawara ! anw i hope you guys enjoyed it tho it's kinda short 🤷‍♀️

[zyafics]

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. rafe cameron + his filipina! gf 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

— based on this ask right here ✧

[daphnefisherofficial]

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

defy your destiny | rewrite your fate.

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley) x Avatar Fem!Reader/OC

Update Schedule: Semi-daily (schedule depends on my work, most of the chapters are already written and I'm writing buffers coz I can't stop, help--)

Summary: Under the luminous full moon of the pre colonial Philippine archipelago in the year 900, Mira Batala's fate to serve their patron moon goddess, Mayari, as an avatar was sealed from the moment a divine kiss was bestowed on her forehead from her infancy. Gifted with a second chance at life, her extraordinary birth marks the onset of a divine oath to be honored and fulfilled as immortality soon became a curse rather than a gift. As she outlived her family and becomes the last of her olden lineage, Mira embarks on a millennia-long journey of protecting her people and guiding the travelers of the night through its darkest.

bugna: takipsilim (destiny's twilight) is a thrilling saga of ancient gods, boundless love, and a woman's timeless odyssey. As Mira confronts her past and embraces her role as Mayari's Avatar, she discovers the essence of her bugna (true destiny) and the interconnectedness of all strings of fate tied to her own: namely her intertwined destinies with Marc Spector, Steven Grant and Jake Lockley as the reincarnated fragments of her greatest love's past life.

TW/CW: Abuse, Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, Drama, Dreams and Nightmares, Falling In Love, Fluff, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping I'm Sorry, Idiots in Love, Not Beta Read, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Reader-Insert Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Build, Smut, Soulmates, Trauma.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

MASTERLIST BELOW

Prologue | A Kiss Of Intertwined Destinies

Chapter One | Shadows Of The Past

Chapter Two | Dreams Of Fate, Farewell & New Beginnings

Chapter Three | A Chance Encounter Above The Clouds

Chapter Four | The Homecoming

Chapter Five | Ties & Strings That Bind

Chapter Six | Coffees, Paninis & Museum Dreams

Chapter Seven | A Night of Discovery, History and Connection

Chapter Eight | Avatar Of Mayari, Protector Of The Night

Chapter Nine | Forgotten Memories & Inevitable Truth

Chapter Ten | A Taste of Camaraderie & New Adventures

Chapter Eleven | When The Sparks Fly

Chapter Twelve | Between Awakening Desires & Celebratory Nights

Chapter Thirteen | Companionship & Late Night Confessions

Chapter Fourteen | The Hidden Protector

Chapter Fifteen | Bound By The Crescent Moon

Chapter Sixteen | All Has Been Revealed

Chapter Seventeen | Moon Magic & Mysteries Of The Night We Met

Chapter Eighteen | Shared Burdens & Unexpected Alliances

Chapter Nineteen | Choices and Commitments

Chapter Twenty | The Doorway of Accursed Memories

Chapter Twenty One | Lieutenant Darius Carter

Chapter Twenty Two | A Love Forged in War (coming soon)

Chapter Twenty Three | The Jackal and the Moon (coming soon)

Chapter Twenty Four | Il Lamento della Luna (coming soon)

Chapter Twenty Five | Meeting the Sun and Stars (coming soon)

Chapter Twenty Six | Konseho ng mga Diwata // Council of the Gods (coming soon)

MORE CHAPTERS COMING SOON.

Also, I will be cross posting this on Wattpad and AO3 soon, so I have commissioned an artist to create a book cover. Here's a sneak peak.

I'm super excited to show you the rest once she's done. In the meantime, please follow her on Instagram @lindsaynid_arts if you wanna see more of her artwork.

[cogniizaant]

Hey! Can i request froggy x coworker reader who is filipino? I just saw your writting and I just love it I think its great🔥

(This is actually my first ask (^_^; )

Js an idea:

(The reader is pretty reserved and kind but can take charge and be outspoken when need to. And does great with her job and stuff)

(Even if you don't pick this up its okay!)

Thank you for your time! (^-^)/

i'm back, i'm sorry. school is over woohooo! And thank you anon! I'm rlly glad people actually like my writing style lol!

I'll have more time with my new job and no school, so no more spontaneous disappearances now we shall hope.

Froggy x Filipino!Cowoker reader!!

I'm making this one fem reader since the pronouns you used, but i won't explicitly be stating anything specific for the most part.

You were always a great worker in Froggy's eyes. He never had an issues with you, and you never gave anyone else any problems. Your work was always finished routinely and neatly. You never spoke rudely to others or acted unprofessionally. Overall, he enjoyed working with you. You made work go much smoother.

But, that isn't the only reason he enjoyed working with you so much. There are times where things get a bit hectic. Sometimes Meanie and the Receptionist will break out in arguments, disturbing everyone around them. Froggy is easily annoyed by all the noise, so he'll usually end up trying to tune them out or covering his hears. Coral Glasses is non confrontational to an extent, so it's rare that she'd be the first to jump in and stop them. Kane and Dratula both won't do much of anything, either, though I could see Kane egging them on.

So, when no one wants to step up when there's a clear problem, what is left to do? In this case, you have to stop it yourself.

"You two shut up and get back to work."

It works well, as usual. Not exactly yelling, but amplifying your voice enough for them to hear. Your voice was steady and stern just enough for them to listen to you without feeling like they're straight up being scolded like kids. It's honestly one of the best approaches when dealing with work problems. Both people quit their arguing, looking a tad bit embarrassed as they went back to whichever tasks they had before. Froggy uncovered his ears and looked back over to the previous argument in shock from the sudden silence, and Kane kinda grumbled about how his fun was killed, but aside from him, the others were appreciative.

Froggy walked over to you later. He scratched his head before talking a bit hesitantly. "Um, thank you for handling the other two earlier. As always, you handle things really.. well." You told him it was no problem but took note of how he went about telling you. You pat the spot on the dock beside you, silently asking him to sit next to you. Work was over at this point, so the moment of relaxation was earned. He did sit down, but he was pretty quiet this time around.

(I think it's because I haven't written in a few days, but I have no clue how to continue that omg.)

Dating him was like that "He asked for no pickles!" picture. Like, Froggy can stand up for himself perfectly well, but he likes watching how quickly you can switch out your usual reserved demeanor, and switch right back once you're done telling someone off. He also likes being defended though I also doubt he'd ever admit that.

If you were born in the Philippines or even if you aren't, I think he'd ask about your culture a lot. He knows a few things about the place, but he'd be fascinated to hear about it from your perspective. Maybe he'd learn some facts about where ever you're from to try and impress you with them.

Also, something I just wanted to add, but if you speak Tagolog or Filipino, he really likes listening. It's not like he can understand, of course, but he likes the sound of the language.

(That last part was kinda.. biased lowk bc one of my best friends speaks Tagolog and sometimes I hear him speaking it while we're calling it always sounds nice. it scratches my brain yk)

I hope you like thus

10/10 relationship

[alaina-starling]

☁️Cuddles and Kisses☁️

[Lee Minho x Fem!Reader]

summary: reader is on her period, so Minho does the only sensible thing: give her kisses and cuddles (and orders her favorite food but that’s a surprise)

genre: fluff

warning: weird writing, idk i wrote this at 1am. tooth-aching sweet Minho, y/n speaking in another language(?), mentions of cursing god(s) lmao

note: okay so I know he doesn’t understand tagalog, but that diff breed filo skz stan in me kicks in and I have to make you speak tagalog😌💚 (it’s not really a warning but just an additional tag idk why it’s in warning lmao)

Masterlist

“Babe? Can you get me a soda from the fridge, please.” Minho’s shouts are muffled by the thick wooden door of his office but Y/n understood it nonetheless.

She takes small steps, her abdomen aching. She opens the refrigerator door, softly humming a song that pops in her mind. She vaguely remembers a gas station, two annoyed younger siblings in the car, and a steaming engine.

She chuckles, her warm hands touch the cold soda and she shivers. She takes a mental note not to leave her blanket anywhere on days when 40 millimeters of blood is gushing out of her vagina because of her uterus shedding some stupid lining that was prepared for a dumb fetus.

Y/n grumbles when she nears his door, wiping her numbing hand on her shirt then reaching for the door handle when it bursts open and she crashes with an excited Minho.

“Baby- oof!” He squeals, left hand finding her waist while the other grabs the falling soda can that’s about to crash to the floor.

She thanks the gods who gave Minho good reflexes, but curses the one who made him have a habit of not paying attention when opening doors.

“Oh dear, are you okay, hun?” He stabilizes her, his right hand tucking a stray hair that fell to her face. He cups her cheek and she melts to her boyfriend’s touch, leaning in.

He’s soft and passionate with the kiss, despite her neediness. Y/n lets out a whimper, the feeling of a sword stabbing and jabbing right on her abdomen and through her lower back engulfs her senses.

These cramps are messing her up, and yet again she takes a mental note not to miss her monthly chamomile tea before the ‘red’ curse enters (more like violently exits) her body.

“Hah, just peachy.” She huffs out before kissing him again, now biting gently at his lower lip.

“Nngh.” A soft noise slips out of his lips before he can stop it and Y/n stops kissing him, instead staring at him with disbelief etched on her face.

She stifles a laugh, preventing a gush that threatens to stain her pants. “Min?”

He smiles, laughing. This is her first time hearing him being vocal from a kiss, after all that’s always been her job. “Oh come on. You were biting me!” He defends and the look he has is enough to send her to the ground cackling.

“You’re too cute.” She manages to choke out as he pulls her up to carry her, settling her down on the couch. “Mmh, are you spending time with me instead of doing work because of my period situation?”

He nods, rushing to his office, she hears him shuffling around. Probably looking for his phone she thinks, turning her attention to the tv and realizing she doesn’t know where the remote is. “Min.” She calls for him, not wanting to move from her spot on the couch. “Lee Minho, where did you put the tv remote?” She finally shouts, head lifting to go look at what he’s doing in the other room.

He suddenly pops up behind the couch giving her a mini heart attack.

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles apologetically, “I left it in my room, here.” Minho holds her hand in his, giving her the remote.

Y/n smiles, patting the space next to her. Her boyfriend mirrors her, his lips tugging upwards. He lets his bunny slippers fall off his feet as he snuggles beside her, his back on the couch, his chest pressed against her own.

“Good?” He asks, running a hand through her ruffled hair.

“Mmh, as long as you’re here.”

10 minutes later she sees the doorknob of her front door turn, panic digs its claws on her throat and lungs, until she sees Hyunjin by the door. “Uh… Minho hyung, here are the things you asked for.”

[honestly switch to second person pov, im struggling af]

He sheepishly grins, demeanor shy from intruding your cuddle time. “I hope you feel better, Y/n noona.”

After Minho thanks him, Hyunjin bows a few more times before exiting your apartment and locking it with his, seemingly, own set of keys.

“Did you give Hyunjin your keys? Is that why you’re always locked out of your own home?” You tease and he playfully pouts.

“Oh, come on. You know you love helping a damsel in distress.” He jokes, cupping your face and leaving butterfly kisses all over.

You shy away, shifting your attention to the plastic of food Hyunjin brought. “Let’s eat,” you say, eager to taste Hyunjin’s cooking after not having his dishes for a long time.

Your boyfriend nods, standing up to get the plastic, two plates, two pairs of silverware and mugs. “Want the imported tea or the, uh,” he pauses, reading the small writing on the tea bag but not finding the name of the actual tea.

“Chamomile babe, thank you.” You answer, pulling the blanket by your feet over you. “Lamig naman, kakaiyak.” You sigh, complaining about the cold and half expecting him to turn the temperature a bit higher.

“What’s that, baby girl?” He hums from the kitchen, “You know I don’t understand the language, sorry.” He apologizes genuinely, feeling a bit guilty you’re learning korean but he isn’t making an effort to learn your language.

“It’s alright, Min. I’m sorry I didn’t notice, I said I’m cold.” You reply in a nonchalant tone, you don’t care at all, it’s not like he’ll be going to the country, and besides you only learned korean because you were going to the country.

When he finishes fixing you a cup of tea, he brings it to the table in the living room. Setting up everything else for your comfort, and not letting you do anything.

“Alright let’s watch that movie you keep talking about!” He starts excitedly, caressing your cheek before turning to the food and tv.

You relax the rest of the day, receiving absolute princess treatment from Minho. At the end of the day you’ve been pampered with kisses and lulled to sleep with cuddles.

Minho truly is a treasure.

Find all my works under #skzwife-02

[panakinthedisco]

MISTY ━━ Joel Miller

summary: it all started at a station stop, a conversation about your beloved country, and somehow, in that moment, joel miller became utterly captivated by you.

author's note: i specifically made this one-shot for my SEA and filipina girlies rahhhhhh🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅 🇵🇭 🇵🇭 🇵🇭 🇵🇭 🇵🇭 🇵🇭!!! we need more representation in this fandom so i had to do it <3 but i hope y'all enjoy this because this is just FLUFF :))

word count: 3k

“The Philippines must be very beautiful.” Joel Miller says to you when you tell him where you’re from. You trembled at the way he said your name — revealing much more of his Southern accent and also his undeniable charm. Even though no one calls your birth name, folks in your country called you by your nickname except your dear Lola back home in Manila. 

It makes you feel beautiful, or perhaps it’s just the lulling motion of this train to New York, the luxury of having nothing to do -– the way you feel on a holiday, you think, though you haven’t been on one since before you left for the United States five years ago. You’re not entirely sure. And now, you’re overwhelmed by the sensations you're experiencing with Joel Miller — thrilling and intense. Yet, in an instant, your Catholic guilt takes over, making you feel ashamed for enjoying his attention.

Religion has always been a central part of your life, ingrained in you by your overbearing mother, who is almost a fanatic. She vigorously enforced her beliefs, and you obeyed dutifully, attending Mass, saying your prayers, and adhering to the teachings of the Church. Your mother’s strict adherence to Catholicism shaped your upbringing, leaving little room for deviation.

But as you reflect, you admit to yourself that you secretly rebelled when you were younger. Those small acts of defiance, hidden from your mother's watchful eyes, were your way of reclaiming some sense of freedom. Now, as you sit on this train, the memories of those rebellions mix with the current thrill, leaving you in a whirlwind of emotions.

“It is beautiful,” You said softly, a little like a sigh. The sound of that small exhalation hangs in the dry air between you and Joel like a gauzy mosquito net that you and your cousins slept beneath when you were children while you’re staying over at your grandmother’s house. This was before Lola had air conditioners installed and they could shut out the mosquitoes. You had an urge to tell him that. And then, almost as if he hears your thoughts, Joel asks you what your home is like. 

Smiling, you begin to share your memories. "My grandmother owned a piece of land a few miles away from the city. We had a small family farm there. When I was younger, I used to play around the chicken pens and even feed the goats with my cousins. We'd pick pale yellow mangoes from the trees on the farm and line them up in rows on the grass to ripen in the sunshine."

Joel listens intently, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest. Encouraged, you continue, "We used to walk barefoot through the muddy rice fields and catch field snails, which we’d eat in the evening. I remember how we’d have competitions to see who could collect the most snails. I was quite competitive about it," you say with a laugh.

You describe how you would go fishing in the rice field ponds and in the swampy shallow waters, reaching down with your bare hands to catch mudfish. "It was always such a thrill to feel the slippery fish wriggle in your grasp," you add.

Your mind drifts back to those carefree days. "We'd also climb the trees and pick guavas and tamarinds, sometimes sneaking a few bites before bringing them back to Lola's kitchen. The smell of her cooking would fill the air, blending with the earthy scent of the countryside. In the evenings, we'd sit outside, listening to the cicadas and telling stories under the stars."

Joel's expression softens as he imagines the scenes you paint with your words. "It sounds like a paradise," he says, his voice low and thoughtful.

"It was," you reply, a touch of wistfulness in your tone. "Those memories are some of the happiest of my life."

Then Joel asks you, “Isn’t it a country of islands? What are the beaches like?” His hazel brown eyes pierce beneath the reading light of the train, filled with curiosity.

You smile, your mind immediately drifting to the many beautiful beaches you’ve visited. "Yes, it is a country of islands," you begin. "The beaches are incredible, each one unique. I've been to quite a few, but my favorite memories are from my mother's hometown on an island in Palawan called Cuyo."

Joel leans in closer, captivated by your words. "Cuyo is a small, quiet place, but it's absolutely stunning. The beaches there are like something out of a postcard—white sand, crystal-clear waters, and vibrant coral reefs just offshore. I always loved going to the beach there. The water is so clear that you can see the fish swimming around your feet."

You pause, reminiscing about the warmth of the sun and the gentle sound of the waves. "When I was a child, I would often go with the fishermen. They’d take their boats out early in the morning, and sometimes I’d tag along. The sea would be calm, and we’d glide over the water, watching the sunrise paint the sky in shades of pink and orange. They'd teach me how to cast nets and catch fish. It was an amazing experience, being so close to nature and learning from people who had lived off the sea for generations."

Joel's eyes remain fixed on you, his expression soft and engaged. You continue, "During the afternoons, we'd play on the beach, building sandcastles and collecting seashells. The island is surrounded by reefs, so snorkeling was a favorite activity. The underwater world is so colorful and full of life—it's like a hidden paradise."

You share more about the island's charm, the simple yet fulfilling life there. "We'd have picnics on the beach, with freshly caught seafood and tropical fruits. My mother would tell us stories about her own childhood, and we'd sit there, listening as the sun set over the horizon."

The memories flood back, each one more vivid than the last. "I also remember walking along the shore at night, the moonlight reflecting on the water. Sometimes, we'd see bioluminescent plankton, making the waves glow. It felt like magic."

Joel smiles, clearly enchanted by your stories. "It sounds like an incredible place," he says softly.

"It really is," you reply, a warm glow in your heart. "Cuyo and its beaches hold a special place in my memories. It's a place where time seems to slow down, and you can truly appreciate the beauty of nature."

You met Joel at the station stop in Chicago. He smiled at you, and you smiled back. That was all. He found the empty seat beside you. 

And it began with your name. It must have been foreign for Joel to hear a name that is not Americanized. He repeats your name – not like a question, but as though he likes the sound. Joel reaches for your hand, and shakes it, “I’m pleased to meet you.” 

The Amtrak 49 train moves from the Midwest to the East Coast, specifically New York. You opted to take the train to save on airfare, but the truth is, you also wanted a little extra time to unwind during the sixteen-hour journey. You are grateful to have met Joel Miller from Texas, who is also on his way to New York for a visit. It feels like an unexpected windfall, and you are giddy and thrilled to have him to intrigue and engage, just as he intrigues and engages you.

Joel Miller is an enchanting distraction, precisely because he seems equally captivated by you. You savor the minutes like sweets in your mouth. It's been so long since someone has paid you this much attention, and you feel flushed and drunk with it. 

You listen to Joel talk, struggling not to be wide-eyed and open-mouthed, though it’s hard to avoid his hazel brown eyes that make butterflies in your stomach flutter. He listens to you in that same way, as though every word that drops from your lips is candy-coated delicious. Thinking this, you pop a breath mint into your mouth when he isn’t looking. You feel absolutely silly about what you’re doing. 

He is older than her. He must be in his mid-thirties while you’re in the middle of the twenties, quite new to the corporate world and still struggling to keep up with the inflation. He didn’t mention whether he’s married or not but he might have a wife in Texas or in New York. Those thoughts flood into your head and you steal a glance — surprisingly, he’s looking at you too. 

What is he thinking, you think, don’t let him be thinking of you. And then just as quickly, please let him be thinking of me. 

You cannot help allowing yourself this quick sweet rush of happiness like having a man come to call at your house, bringing flowers or candy. Like a date on a weekday evening. Like that certain knowledge that someone yearns to kiss you.

You are wanted. You are beautiful in the eyes of Joel Miller.

As the train continues its journey, the conversation with Joel deepens. He suddenly asks, “Wasn’t there a big revolution in the Philippines in the 80s? The EDSA Revolution? I remember hearing about it on the news. It seemed to captivate the world.”

You nod, your expression turning serious. "Yes, the EDSA Revolution in 1986 was a pivotal moment in our history. My parents were both involved in it. My mother and father fought against the dictatorship. My father was a student activist at a prestigious university, and it was incredibly difficult for him."

Joel's eyes widened with interest, and you continue, "There were times when my father had to hide because of his controversial writings against the president and the government. He told us stories about how he hid in the countryside, constantly looking over his shoulder. It was terrifying for him."

You pause, your thoughts drifting back to the stories your father shared. "But he fought back by writing and eventually took part in the EDSA Revolution. I remember the tears in his eyes when he talked about tasting freedom for the first time. He always said he was doing it for us, for me and my siblings."

Joel is silent for a moment, clearly moved by your story. "Your father is incredibly brave," he says softly. "To stand up against such a regime and fight for what he believed in... that's remarkable."

You smile, a mix of pride and sadness in your eyes. "He is brave. He risked everything for a cause he believed in, for a future he wanted for his children. The EDSA Revolution was a peaceful protest, but it was filled with so much emotion and hope. My father's involvement in it shaped who he is and, in turn, who I am."

Late at night, Joel asks you if you want to get something to eat. The dining car is open. You agreed to his invitation and made way down the aisle. The car is dark and most of the passengers are slumped in sleep, their shapes suggest they are in the most comfortable position possible, given the uncomfortable circumstances. Their heads are buried under coats and sweaters. Every now and then, a snore emitted from an old man. Or a faint cry from a hungry baby in the back of the car. When you stumbled from your step, losing your balance, Joel grabs you and clasps your hand in his to steady you. 

They order cups of coffee and eat crumbly stale chocolate chip cookies out of small carton boxes. You did not remember when you had talked so long or laughed so much. And it is exciting to know that as you both talk, towns and cities rush past in a midnight blur. Both of you are far away from everything. 

Close to four in the morning, you both stumbled down the aisle, back to your seats. You are already sleepy  in a warm, comfortable way. Your eyelids are heavy, like they have been smeared with thick honey, and sure enough, they close stickily. You let your head drop and fall lightly to rest upon his shoulder. 

When Joel reaches over to flick your reading light, you sighed, inhaling his scent. For an instant, you open your eyes but it is completely dark and quiet except for the sound of the train on its tracks. As you exhaled you fell asleep, but not before hearing Joel’s hoarse whisper as he fixed the unruly hair that is covering your face and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

Joel calls you on your phone, his voice urgent. It’s been a week since your last meeting and he asked for your number  — in which you gave it to him. You were not expecting anything in return and your long conservation is enough for you but at the back of your mind — you wish he’ll call you.

Hearing his voice almost made you stunned. You missed him and his presence. 

“Have lunch with me today?” he says. 

"I..I don't know." You said. It is indeed a bad time because you have a lot of things to do which is babysitting your aunt’s daughter but you looked over to the living room where your aunt is already busy taking care of your niece.

He speaks once again, "I have to see you. I have to show you something."

You looked at your wristwatch. You calculate the number of hours and you realize you can get away. You do have the time. You are heartbeat quickens. You want to see what he has to show you. But even more than that, you want to see him.

You clear your throat. In a low voice, you said, "Where should I meet you, Joel?"

Both of you meet in Central Park. Winter is on its last legs, and the air has a bit of warmth to it. Still, you wished that you were indoors. Your raincoat is very fluffy and lined but it is just warm enough for you.

"It's not raining," Joel says when he sees you.

"But it might." You said. "It might get colder. It might rain. I cannot take any chances."

"Okay."Joel smiles tenderly at you. You let yourself smile back, thinking, how dare he be. How sweet he is. He tells you,"Come on, I have a surprise for you."

You both walked briskly through the park, through the tree-lined paths, until they came to the gates of the Central Park Zoo.

"Here?" You asked him, Joel nods. "I was here yesterday. That's when I saw it."

You’re confused what he meant, "What?"

But Joel  shakes his head,  "You'll love it." He says. And he will not say anything anymore.

Both of you walked in the wet puddles that were once ice and snow. Although the leaves have still to emerge, people in the park are out with their books, perched on benches and big rocks by the pond, their faces to the sun as though they are tanning on a summer day.

You shivered, you cannot help it. Because it is cold, yes, but also because of now.

Joel takes your hand. Maybe because he saw you shiver. You glance at him uncertainly, and once more, catch him looking at you.

"Tell me." 

He squeezes your hand. "Be patient." He says, as if to a child.

At the ticket gate, the attendant warns that because of the cold, not all the animals may be out and about. Joel laughs, and says,

"That's perfectly alright."

Once inside the zoo's gates, Joel walks with more speed. You had to trot to keep up because he would not slow down. He squeezes your hand again and tells you to close your eyes.

You did, and you are not afraid to fall with him leading you. You feel the cool air on your face, the gravel beneath your feet. You hear the seals barking, splashing in their pool.

His grip on your hand is stronger. Although you cannot see, you take steps with confidence.

Both of you stopped. You realized that you are both entering a building.

"Step up, sweetheart," Joel tells you. You hope that you didn’t blush. 

All at once, a heat washes over, a fantastic wet, green heat so heavy, you are forced to draw a breath. You opened your eyes. You are in a jungle of thick ripe foliage. There is nobody else around. You can hear the cries of birds, the thick rustle of leaves and from somewhere, the sound of rain and trickling water. You can see trees, of deep green and black and brown, as you take your steps, you feel the soft ground beneath your feet.

You have never seen anything like this before.

You climb the wooden walkway through this tropical rain forest in the Central Park Zoo. The bridge is overlooking a small waterfall and beside it, there is steam rising from what you know is some hidden vent. Tiny beads of perspiration spring to your skin. You blow the bangs off your forehead. 

At the other end of the bridge, Joel is still standing at the other side of the bridge and he is staring at you. As he wants to take everything about you. And then, your heart fluttered by his soft gaze.

And then, he went to you while your eyes never left his. He takes both of your hands in his, leans in and whispers in your ear, warm breath against your neck. “This is how it is in the Philippines, right? Isn’t this the way it is?” 

You nodded and you know what is coming next. You feel that heat and stop thinking. You closed your eyes as Joel went closer to kiss you. 

Moments later, you answered him, “Yes, this is the way it is.” 

You thought if you haven't met Joel Miller on a train or maybe someday, against all the laws of probability, both of you met in another place or time but it doesn't matter right now. Meeting Joel Miller is a prelude to something wonderful and you felt it at the very beginning. 

That swift, surprising transition from nothing to everything.

AVAILABLE ON A03

☆ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | SOCIALS | SIGN OFF BANNER MADE BY. @alderaandors

[dinums]

The Unexpected Visit

Thomas Shelby x Reader

This is part 2, by the way! Check out part 1 first!

Part 3

Summary: Ada gets married, Thomas takes a Barmaid to a Derby, Thomas, and (Y/N) gets closer.

Word counter: 2,056 words

"Should I be crying? You look like an angel, Ada," I said wholeheartedly, helping her with the veil as I admired her through the reflection in the mirror. My words brought a chuckle from her, filling the room with a lightness.

"Do you think he'll like it? Freddie, I mean," she asked, seeking reassurance.

"Of course he will. Ang ganda mo kaya," I replied

"Ganda mo kaya?" Ada questioned, curious about the meaning. I explained, "It means 'you're beautiful.'' With her heart full of love, she left the house early in the morning.

Later that day, Pol asked me to run some errands around town, buy a few things at the market, though I knew she wanted me to take a breather from everything that's been happening, that I was thankful for. As I walked, the mud stained my shoes, and the smoke filled the sky, reminding me that this environment was vastly different from what I was accustomed to. I veered towards a less crowded section of town, continuing my walk, when suddenly, the sound of a gunshot pierced the air. My body froze, and my head snapped in the direction of the noise. In the distance, I spotted two figures—a man and a woman. Without daring to investigate further, I swiftly turned and ran, paying no mind to the mud splattering on my skirt. At that moment, running was the only important thing, outfit be damned.

"Jusko po..." I gasped, leaning my back against a wall once I deemed myself far enough from the commotion. I panted heavily, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath. People cast strange glances in my direction, but I paid them no mind. No one could know what I had witnessed.

After calming myself down for a while, I realized I couldn't simply return home. Walking down the familiar streets, I made my way to the market and purchased the items on my list. Once back home, I placed them on the kitchen table before heading upstairs to change. Convincing myself that the gunshot from earlier were just friendly fire, that utbjust happened on accident.

As I descended the stairs, I overheard the boys conversing amongst themselves. Arthur now owned the Garrison, and Tommy had made an attempt on Ada's husband. They were planning to attend a Derby.

"So, you're taking the pretty barmaid, eh mate?" John asked. I paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, realizing that Tommy had a date.

Peeking my head around the corner, I caught sight of John and Arthur snickering to themselves.

"Whoa, Thomas has a date?" I exclaimed, capturing the attention of the three men. John was the first to respond, saying, "Of course he does."

"And she's a pretty one too, works at the Garrison!" Arthur chimed in. Unbeknownst to me, Thomas had been watching me the entire time, and as our eyes met, I gave him a thumbs-up.

"Good luck, treat her right," I said, my smile turning into a more serious expression. I was well aware of how women were often treated by men during these times.

"It's just business," Tommy replied dismissively.

"Everything is always business to you, Tommy," Arthur groaned, earning a glare from Thomas.

"It'd be nice if you take yourself a woman, eh?" John teased his brother, getting him a smack in the back of his head by Thomas which made me chuckle.

"Well, I heard you own the Garrison now, Arthur!" I interjected, walking over to join them.

"Been eavesdropping, eh, love?" Arthur said with a toothy grin, causing me to blush in embarrassment. When I tried to explain myself, he waved a hand in the air, assuring me it was alright, and mentioned that they would be celebrating at the Garrison. He then began pulling John along with him, leaving me alone with Thomas.

"I heard you tried to shoot Ada's husband. Did you apologize?" I asked, concerned.

"He's not dead."

"Did you apologize?" I repeated, but was only met with silence, I let out a sigh.

"Well, you should. If you're going on a date, you need to show respect to your sister before other women—"

"It's just business."

"Even so, Thomas. When's the date?" I inquired.

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, as I continued referring to his "business" as a date.

"Tomorrow"

"Since you guys will be busy, I'll go out and find a library. Maybe they'll have something that can help me go back. I'll finish my work today and even do some extra to make up for it," I declared, informing him, knowing he won't stop me. When he only nodded, I took that as my cue to leave. Going inside the betting shop to officially start the day.

///

When tomorrow finally came, I went down to find out the boys have left already. I didn't see where Polly was but Finn was in the kitchen, he threw something in the fireplace.

I walked over to him, my curiosity peaked. "Hey, what was that, hm?" When I crouched down, it was a cigarette.

"Finn?" I held it out, wanting him to explain but were just met with a guilty look. I was aware enough that children from these times smoke and drank alcohol, Finn himself wouldn't be an exception, it shouldn't have had surprised me, especially since Thomas and the others smoked quite often.

"You're still young"

"I'd turn 11 soon,"

"Well, you're still 10. Do it when you're old enough to make decisions for yourself, I've got to go somewhere, but no more of this, okay?" He nodded, which made me smile, patting his head.

"Good, if Pol asks where I am, I'm off to the library"

To my surprised, when I left there was a Peaky Boy by the door, when he approached me, he said that Thomas asked him to escort me to the library since it was far away.

///

"Seriously? Still nothing?"

It has been hours and I still haven't found anything concerning time travel. Though this was expected, it still quite annoyed me. I felt hopeless, feeling tears start to make their way to fall down my cheeks.

"Ma'am, shall I take you home? Its getting quite dark." The Peaky Boy said which stopped my train of thoughts. Quickly wiping my eyes, I looked up at him and forced a smile.

"Yeah, sure." After finishing up, we began to walk our way towards town, it was quite silent so I tried to make conversation with the guy.

"So, what's your name?"

"Charles, Ma'am." I nodded in acknowledgment by his answer, chuckling a bit.

"You don't have to be so stiff, call me (Y/N)," he smiled at that and after we continued to walk with comfortable silence around us, letting me forget my frustration for a moment.

"Thanks for escorting me, by the way"

I bid him goodbye before walking inside the house. Once inside, no one was there, guess everyone's out. I went to Thomas' room, which can be considered mine for the time being.

Feeling a sense of boredom, I picked up a sketchbook and some pencils that Arthur had given me. The pages were already filled with a few sketches done by both me and him. Reflecting on the events of the day, I attempted to draw my brother, trying my best to capture his face. I couldn't help but worry that if I stayed here any longer, I would forget—forget my friends, my family, and the cherished memories we shared. It dawned on me that while I'm here they're probably looking for me.

Deciding to create a comic strip depicting my memories and descriptions of my family, I couldn't help but tear up a little. I had already forgotten my mother and brother's voice.

"Ma, miss kona kayo ni kuya... Mama..."

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and I quickly composed myself before inviting the visitor in. It was Polly.

"Pol..."

"The boys are at the Garrison, celebrating. I came to pick you up. Are you alright, love?"

I smiled and nodded. "I'm alright, Pol. It's nothing, just a bit of homesickness. I'll stay here for the night. Do tell them I said congratulations." She nodded, relieved that she didn't pry any further, and left, bidding me goodnight.

///

Unable to sleep that night, I found some peace in my drawings. I kept a candle by my bedside to provide light, sitting with my knees drawn close to my chest and my back against the wall, facing the door with the notebook resting on my thigh.

After a while, I could hear the sound of people talking downstairs. It seemed like Arthur had indulged in a few drinks as he kept yelling, something about a man called Kimber. When the commotion subsided, there was another knock on my door, followed by Thomas' voice asking if I was still awake. I replied affirmatively, and he took it as his cue to enter. Closing the door behind him, he remained silent, prompting me to break the silence.

"So, how was the date? Did it go well?"

"I told you, it's business, eh?" he chuckled, walking over to sit beside me.

"What brings you here?"

"It's my room."

"Fair enough. But why are you here?" I asked. However, instead of responding directly, he asked a question of his own.

"How did your visit to the library go?" I sighed, playing with my hands as I slumped my shoulders.

"Terrible. I feel like I'm trapped here forever. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be with you all, but I had a life back there, you know? If I stay here any longer, I'm afraid... i just miss my mother, brother, and my friends."

"You have a brother?" he asked, glancing back at me. I nodded, slightly distracted by his question.

"Yeah, he's annoying but caring. We used to play games together."

"Oh, really? What kind?" he inquired. I smiled and lightly punched him on the shoulder.

"Are you just trying to distract me?" I teased. He shrugged, pursing his lips in an attempt to suppress a smile, though I could see it in his eyes.

We continued our conversation, and somehow, before we knew it, we found ourselves lying in bed, facing each other. I kept talking, and he listened.

"Are you sure I'm not bleeding your ears?" I asked, squinting my eyes at him.

He shook his head and encouraged me to keep talking by gesturing to the side.

"Where was I again?" I questioned, testing if he was genuinely paying attention.

"You were talking about your dog named 'Dog,'" he replied.

"Ah, right."

As I was drifting off to sleep, I noticed him getting up, trying not to disturb me.

"Hey, Thomas..."

"Hm?"

"If I met you in my time, siguro nahulog nako sayo"

///

Those were the words that left (Y/N)'s lips. Thomas, though not fully understanding the context, couldn't help but smile nonetheless. He bid her goodnight before leaving to sleep downstairs.

Only he knew the true reason why he had sought her out after returning from the Garrison. Somehow, being with her made him feel like his former self, the boy he was before the war. She brought a genuine warmth to his life, treated him like a normal person and not something broken, not someone without a heart, and not someone that killed so many in the name of war. When she looked at him, he feels like she sees the boy he was, coaxing him to come out little by little, and that comforted him because she sees him, sees someone he thought he can never be again. What began as fascination had blossomed into something deeper. He yearned to know more about her, to delve into the stories and memories she shared. Her voice brought him a sense of comfort. In his own way he wanted her to feel heard, wanted her to know he was there, with her, with everything she will do while she's here.

But deep down, he knew she didn't belong here, and that she would eventually have to leave. So, as much as he wanted to make her stay as memorable as possible, if he could be selfish with her, he hoped against hope that she would choose to stay.