#hm… I’m going to try posting right now at 2am

[kazscrows]

Six of Crows Reread 🪶

Chapter 38: Kaz

I have been waiting to get to this chapter-

This is going to be a long one so settle in and buckle up

I’m not kidding this one goes for ages—

He’d gambled on Matthias’ feelings for Nina, but he’d always liked those odds. The real risk had been in whether or not someone as honest as Matthias could convincingly lie to his mentor’s face. Apparently the Fjerdan had hidden skills.

Kaz is a Helnik shipper you can’t change my mind

And lmao he thought Matthias wouldn’t be able to lie basically because he’s “too good”—

He reeks of decency, right?

Kaz throwing up the bombs to fell the sacred ash is… something

I made a post about this last night

He had lock picks and extra pellets of that weird knockout gas they used earlier in the cells in his gut too—

Oh he learned to do this via a fire breather magician

I guess it kind of makes sense

But then Kaz notes that the magician died due to poisoning himself accidentally—

Man (meaning Kaz Brekker) is insane

He remembered Inej standing on the embassy roof, aglow with some new fervour he didn’t understand but could still recognise – purpose. It had suffused her with light.

She was glowing to him

He’s so proud of her

I’m so proud of her

I really like that we got to see exactly where everyone was when the black protocol bells began

Gives it that heist movie feel of recapping the mission but from other points of view

Does that make sense? Do you guys know what I mean?

He’d waited, counting the minutes, but there was still no sign of Nina or Matthias. They’re in trouble, Kaz had thought. Or you were dead wrong about Matthias, and you’re about to pay for all of those talking tree jokes.

Imagine the plan failing because Kaz made fun of Matthias one too many times

That would have been tragic

He quickly tries to think of a way to get to the treasury but…

Would he be going to help Nina and Matthias or just to grab the target?

Luckily we don’t have to find out

Hopefully he’d choose to help his new friends

I like to think he would

He’d been about to call out to them when the explosion hit, and everything went to hell.

They blew up the lab, he’d thought as debris rained down around him. I definitely did not tell them to blow up the lab.

I love when Kaz thinks things like this

It happens at least once more in Crooked Kingdom

You’ll see when we get there

I’m thinking about a line from the auction

Kaz hoped the Shu boy he was holding on to was a surprisingly young Bo Yul-Bayur and not some hapless prisoner Nina and Matthias had decided to liberate.

I mean.. you never really know with Nina

The voice of god. There was always truth in legend. Kaz had spent enough time building his own myth to know.

Woah this just made me think about Kelsier from Mistborn

Has anyone here read those?

Sometimes Kaz and Kelsier are pretty similar, but also polar opposites

They both run a thieving crew so there’s the obvious similarity

Kelsier loves to smile though so there’s a difference (he smiles out of spite, but it doesn’t really matter right now)

Water had a voice. It was something every canal rat knew, anyone who had slept beneath a bridge or weathered a winter storm in an overturned boat – water could speak with the voice of a lover, a long-lost brother, even a god. That was the key, and once Kaz recognised it, it was as if someone had laid a perfect blueprint over the Ice Court and its workings.

What god do you serve? Inej had asked him. Whichever will grant me good fortune. Fortunate people didn’t end up racing ass over teakettle beneath an ice moat in hostile territory.

He’s already starting to think about Inej

Also side note: “Fortunate people didn’t end up racing ass over teakettle” is just a really funny line-

He thinks that while tumbling blindly down a freezing cold river in the dark

Survive. Survive. Survive. It was the way he’d lived his life, moment to moment, breath to breath, since that terrible morning when he’d woken to find that Jordie was still dead and he was still very much alive.

Pain

I’m gonna cry

Kaz tumbled through the dark. He was colder than he’d ever been. He thought of Inej’s hand on his cheek. His mind had gone jagged at the sensation, a riot of confusion. It had been terror and disgust and – in all of that clamour – desire, a wish that lingered still, the hope that she would touch him again.

Hope doesn’t have to be dangerous

It’s beautiful really

When he was fourteen, Kaz had put together a crew to rob the bank that had helped Hertzoon prey on him and Jordie. His crew got away with fifty thousand kruge, but he’d broken his leg dropping down from the rooftop. The bone didn’t set right, and he’d limped ever after. So he’d found himself a Fabrikator and had his cane made. It became a declaration. There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong, and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken. The cane became a part of the myth he built. No one knew who he was. No one knew where he came from. He’d become Kaz Brekker, cripple and confidence man, bastard of the Barrel.

He really does go after Pekka brick by brick

He didn’t let his limp define him

He used it to sculpt how others saw him

They see him in the exact way he wants them to

In a way it made him stronger

I just want to copy paste this entire chapter

But the flashes of memories Kaz is getting:

Hot chocolate with Jordie and his warning to let it cool

Himself signing for the Crow Club

His first time seeing Inej, in purple silk, and with kohl around her eyes…

When he gave her her first knife, it had a bone handled hilt

She named it Petyr…

Her crying after her first kill and him ignoring the sobs…

Do you think he regrets that? What if he’d tried to comfort her instead..?

Kaz remembered her perched on the sill of his attic window, sometime during that first year after he’d brought her into the Dregs. She’d been feeding the crows that congregated on the roof.

“You shouldn’t make friends with crows,” he’d told her.

“Why not?” she asked.

He’d looked up from his desk to answer, but whatever he’d been about to say had vanished on his tongue.

The sun was out for once, and Inej had turned her face to it. Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbour wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world.

“Why not?” she’d repeated, eyes still closed.

He said the first thing that popped into his head. “They don’t have any manners.”

“Neither do you, Kaz.” She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

Oh window scene my beloved

I’m stronger than this, he told himself. My will is greater. But he could hear Jordie laughing. No, little brother. No one is stronger. You’ve cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

The sound of water is Jordie’s voice for Kaz

A twisted tragic version of him

He’s trying to hang on and survive so he things of his revenge first

But it doesn’t work…

Only thinking of Inej saves him

He hopes she’s alive and that she escaped

He thinks about how if she’s trapped he has to live to safe her

The ache in his lungs was unbearable. He needed to tell her … what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near. He needed to thank her for his new hat.

I love this beautiful broken boy who’s decided to try

The water pressed at his chest, demanding that he part his lips. I won’t, he swore. But in the end, Kaz opened his mouth, and the water rushed in.

Imagine an episode of the spin-off ending like that

That ends part 5, onto the final part!

Part 6: Proper Thieves

First | Previous | Next

[spliffymae]

nobody has to know, a. ojiro

synopsis: it’s caribana season, but instead of catching the dirtiest of wines, aran is moping at his place, thinking about you.

⚠️afabreader, fwb!aran, aran post time skip, reader is caribbean, established fwbs, jealous aran, smut, mentions of phone sex, implied (un)protected sex, MINORS DNI !

kio’s notes - wishin all y’all a hot girl/boy/person summer !!!!

now playing

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

“y/n, you know you have to get permission before you can walk out like that.” your friend teased you once she saw your costume. it was the day of caribana, a day that shouldn’t have tasted bittersweet on your tongue, but did when you realized you wouldn’t be going with aran, your original date for the day.

you kissed your teeth as you grabbed your keys off the counter, dropping them in the side bag strapped to your waist.

“fuck permission. and fuck ojiro’s goofy ass anyways”

3 weeks earlier….

“oh my god, you’re fucking stretching me outtt.” you whine, your lips pouty with fat tears rolling down your face. you were sitting on aran’s lap, being slid down onto his hard dick as you two sat on the couch in your living room.

aran doesn’t respond just yet. he’s too busy trying to keep his composure, stopping himself from cumming before he can really enjoy you.

“aren’t you glad i answered that call, hm? got to give your spoiled ass just what you needed to feel better.” he was a deep baritone in your ear, the velvet of his durag slightly rubbing against your face when he lowered to speak to you.

“but i-it’s not what i wanted.” you let out with a huff. “you’re playing games with me right now, oji.” you were trying really hard to not be the whimpering, babbling mess he knew you were. you were trying to prove him wrong.

aran laughed, “like you weren’t playing games when you let that whack ass take you out. now be good and watch the movie.”

he was right. after all, this all started because you called him to fix a bad hookup you had with a good first date.

“it’s 2am, i thought you and whatshisface were linking.” aran was curious when your name popped up on his phone. after you told him about the date and texted him that the guy wasn’t a creep, he figured he’d hear from you in the upcoming days.

“the stroke game was nonexistent. he came from a handjob and couldn’t get it back up. i’m mad i wore this for nothing.” you were on facetime, so aran could see the annoyed look on your face; the way your brows knitted together and creased, with your eyes filled with disappointment. your brown lips were pushed out in a pout and without a second thought, you flipped your camera to show your mirror. you stood in a pink lingerie set, and the sight of you had aran’s cock twitching in his pyjama pants.“i don’t get it. i look so pretty tonight, oji. don’t i?”

the way his name fell from your mouth made his heart skip. the neediness in your tone, the yearning he could hear just from his name. how you wanted him. aran swallowed back the carnal groan that tried to creep its way out his mouth, “yeah, you look so pretty, princess.” he said with a comforting smile. he looked back up at his tv, his nba 2k23 mycareer opened with his friends spamming his chat and yelling at him to snap back to reality and back to the game. his mic was on, but he had muted them to focus on you. they, however, could hear you two.

you sighed, “can you come make me feel better? …i don’t feel pretty.” and aran hated that you let this dickhead get to you like this. how you looked in the mirror with sad eyes. he knew you shouldn’t have gone on that date. he knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied with anyone but him.

“of course, i’m comin’ right now.” he didn’t waste a secon contemplating on whether he should leave to go to you at 2am. he turned off his ps4 and hung up the call, grabbed a t-shirt, hoodie, his phone and his car keys, and was on his way to you.

2 weeks earlier…

“bro, you literally just disappeared on us last week. you know that was the only free time all of us had.” osamu pushed aran as the two stood in the starbucks line. they were meeting some friends from high school at the coffee shop to hang out. since graduation, each of them went their separate ways, focusing on achieving their respective goals. they always made time to hang out once a week though.

aran mumbled a meaningless apology, “sorry man, had to take care of something.” he wasn’t sorry. he honestly didn’t care. if he could choose between playing video games with his friends or spending a night in you, he would pick you everytime.

“something or someone. y’know one day we’re gonna have to meet this girl. it’s been going on for so long now.” samu gave aran a final look before stepping up in the line. he was next to order, watching as the girl in front of him stepped to the side.

you had looked up from your position at the cash register of your job to see two familiar faces. one being your friend osamu from volleyball camp, and aran—the man, who just last night, was moaning into his phone about how bad he needed you while he pumped his hand around his cock.

“y/n! looking radiant as ever!” osamu winked.

you flashed a smile,“thank you osamu, what can i get y’all today?”

“i’ll take a white chocolate mocha, spinach and feta egg wrap, and the truth from aran about his secret girlfriend!” the last part came out of nowhere catching both you and aran off guard. you laughed a bit, but out of pure nervousness. your heartbeat even increased.

“samu!” the young man yelled, giving osamu a slap to his shoulder.

you simply giggled, “this girl must be pretty special if you gotta keep her a secret, oji.” the nickname didn’t come out in the usual way aran was use to hearing. with your voice breathless and filled with an adoration for him. instead it was purely friendly, with a little hint of playfulness. it was different, and it made him miss the former.

“there’s no girl, samu. i ain’t find anyone worth my time, alright? aran ojiro is meant to be a free bird, so let me fly.” aran said as he walked to the other open register, eyes completely missing you as he gave a flirty smile to your coworker. and of course, she loved it. you on the other hand, found yourself to be irked.

1 week earlier…

“bro, you seriously ghosted me over something you took out of context?” aran had finally gotten the chance to be face to face with you after a week of radio silence from you. you two had both shown up to kita’s birthday party. you had come just to show face. you weren’t gonna stay—you were simply there to hand kita his gift and leave before a certain six foot wing spiker showed up.unfortunately, aran spotted you handing the present off to kita with an apologetic smile, attempting to leave before you could see him.

before you could step off the porch, aran had dragged you back into the house, disregarding the looks from guests and protests from you, and pulled you upstairs into the bathroom. he pressed you on your absence, on how you refused to pick up his calls and leave his texts on delivered.

“i’m letting you fly, what’chu mean? you’re a free bird, right?” you knitted your brows in curiosity, “i mean,” you smiled, “that’s what you said…right?”

aran pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration. he leaned against the bathroom counter, standing in front of you, seated at the edge of the tub in front of him. “seriously? i was just saying that to get samu off my back. and even if i meant that shit, so what? we’re just fucking.”

you scoffed, “so now it’s just fucking?…don’t give me that shit, aran. you and i both know we passed ‘just fucking’ a long time ago. but you wanna go flirt with other people in front of me? like you weren’t on my phone begging for me?” you had an attitude, that was for certain.

“bro, why are you trying to make this complicated? i swore we weren’t supposed to be anything serious.” he was defensive, honestly he didn’t know why. he just didn’t like how you were coming for him.

you nodded, “right. so we can just act like we don’t care for each other.”

“i didn’t say all that. i’m just not understanding why you’re getting at me over a misunderstanding.” he honestly wasn’t looking for this. he was just hoping to get a brief explanation and maybe even a lil’ sum sum, but instead he was getting an earful. and it wasn’t an earful of your moans, the way he had hoped.

“because i like you, asshole. because you fuck me and say shit like ‘this my pussy’ or ‘i’m the only one for you’. because you take me out and shower me with affection. because you’re there whenever i need you. and you expect me to what? not feel a way? be okay with you flirting with other girls in my face?what, am i just hear to make you hard?” you raise your arms in frustration.

it was clear from his reddened eyes he had smoked, and the vodka breezer he held in his hand let you know he was lightly drinking too. you say all this because it had to be these factors that made him respond to you the way he did. with a half smirk and laugh, “what’s wrong with just making me hard?”

but you found nothing funny about this. not anything about you finally telling him how you felt was funny to you. it was a pain. a giant and irritating one that you wanted to be free of, but somehow just seemed to worsen. “you know what, you clearly don’t care so i’m not gonna either. see you around, oji.”

the nickname was in a different tone this time around. no adoration, no playfulness. you spoke it flat, with no emotion. and as you stood up and left aran in the bathroom by himself, with the last words being his name in such an emotionless voice, he couldn’t help but think he might have fucked that up.

present…

aran was sitting on his front porch, spliff in hand as he looked down at his phone. today was caribana. he was supposed to be there with you. but instead he was nursing what kita described as a ‘cracked heart’.

he was thinking about you. about how hurt you looked as you left the party. you went radio silent on him afterwards. didn’t hit him up for anything; not to link, not to fuck, not to talk...you were ojiro free—and he hated it!

“so y/n was the secret girlfriend.” osamu had come outside from the kitchen, two cold beers in his right hand.

“wasn’t a girlfriend.” aran mumbled, taking a pull from his spliff.

osamu rolled his eyes, “shut up, she might as well been. look how she got you. meanwhile where is she?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but aran took it literally. with his phone in his other hand he went to instagram and ironically, your story was the first in the long and seemingly endless line of instagram stories. he tapped the icon, immediately seeing a video of you posing in your costume with shensea’s shen yeng anthem coming through your phone.

osamu leaned over to see you and mindlessly whistled at your appearance. “you fumbled a serious bag, my friend.” he ignored the glare aran sent his way because he knew aran knew he was right.

“shut the hell up.” the bitter man mumbled, eyes looking back on his phone to see the next story you posted. it was you on the street, posing with people from your band as you all held up your country’s flag. aran got a better look of your costume. the way that its colors; the purple bands and silver jewel stoned garments that connect to them, brought out your rich and warm undertone the way your headpiece demanded the attention to be on you. you were all smiles with your girlfriends, and aran loved to see you happy. your smile was probably his favorite thing about you.

pissed him off he wasn’t the one making you smile like that, though.

“tsumu just texted me that he sees her.” osamu said just as the timer for your story ran out. it then went to atsumu’s who was holding his phone high up, recording not only him walking w the parade of people, but walking behind you…who was carelessly wining against his crotch to the sounds of gyal you a party animal.

osamu had just so happened to glance back at aran’s screen and his mouth instantly fell at the sight. there was his twin brother, handing his phone off to someone next to him as he flipped to the back camera. he took your hips in his hands and began to move against you making you cheer in excitement.

it was all harmless, a careless bubble he caught because he was your friend. there was nothing serious about it, and that is what made aran the most upset. to know you were okay to do that. because you weren’t his, he had no right to get mad at you just dancing with atsumu because you two are not together, that’s what he knows you’d say if he were to bring this up. but he made it his right to have, the jealousy. because who did you think you were to move against any other man the way you moved against him?

osamu wanted to laugh! because of course this would happen to aran. of course the man who was ‘too busy for love’ would find himself pining after “the one that got away”.

some time had passed and aran was now three spliffs in, a beer in hand as he sat on the beanbag in his room. some random show was playing in the back, but all his attention was on the various instagram and snap stories you posted. he would even watch the snaps of your friends just to see if he’d catch you doing anything. yeah, he was down so bad. here you were having so much fun without him. so much so that not only was he annoyed, but he finally decided to just cave and text you.

ojiro (don’t answer rn)

honestly i’m too high

but fuck it you won

i care about you

and you make me hard

so call me when you see this

[gswgain]

hello everyone!! i’m super excited to be here as a personal enjoyer of cosmic horror and the supernatural :-) i’ll be writing for lee gain, local miserable accountant and the living half of a pair of twins lmao ...... unfortunately i’ll be a lil spotty in the coming days bc i have the worst timing ever lol (in the middle of a move welp), but! if u’d like to plot, please leave a like and i’ll drop by ur dms! also available on disk hoard @ iffy miffy#3901 if u would like to plot there instead!

basic rundown + extras + plots under the cut! (CW: mentioned parents & sibling death)

lee gain, 33, local from what was previously the northern village in the nari village (ok she was there for like. barely 24 hrs), now an accountant in dangam-eup spending her days in the smoking area (see: rooftop) of her workplace

bio/bg tl;dr: born the day before the singing stone appeared which killed her parents, grew up with her identical twin sister (gaeun) and grandmother, gain turned out as the more subdued twin vs gaeun the 'troublemaker’ and was even the vp of their student council during high school, during senior yr gaeun dies under uncertain circumstances which gain may or may have not been involved in

and since senior yr, gain’s been plagued with nightmares and visions of gaeun, accumulating to a lil identity crisis moment when she finds that she has a new mole on her face in the exact spot where gaeun's trademark one was :-) 

gave her the death reversed card so there’s gna be some personal change and transformation going on, but is it just metaphorical/emotional??? lol guess we’ll see!

so now she’s 33 and living in an apartment with zero mirrors which. well....... isn’t great but also explains why she looks like she wears the same outfit almost every other day. bc she does

works in an accounting firm so if u need help w business finances and ur taxes then theres that! but her customer service-sona is god awful (as in she doesnt have one) so tread carefully

personality-wise, she’s erm... not exactly the most approachable w those sketchy vibes and all.... if there’s a smoking area at some resto/cafe/bar then u’ll probably find her there / the gym she goes to at like 2am bc she’s deadset on not sleeping most of the time / aimlessly walking around the island

i’d imagine she was just classically?? introverted when she was younger but post-gaeun has both hardened n fractured her shell so now she’s more deadpan + distrusting + rude (some would say a little bit like how gaeun was..... hm......) 

re: the supernatural stuff, she isn’t a skeptic but it’s more of a case where she doesn’t want to believe bc then she has to entertain the idea of her dead sister trying to claim her body as an actual thing so.... take that as u will

but now theres that big squid ... welp!

now onto some v poorly thought out plots (i’m much better w brainstorming so pls let’s do that if none of these work)

this is just wishful thinking but someone who knew her from high school as the mild-mannered vp and witnessed/came back to this almost completely diff person that strangely reminds them of someone else

someone who has a familial connection to the northern village that might’ve heard abt the twins who were born right before the singing stone destroyed everything

fellow neighbour in an unnamed apt complex in dangam-eup who might think of her as a shady character not to be trusted bc she rlly does dress and act the part....

maybe u rlly do need help with ur taxes and therefore hire her services but much to ur surprise she actually gets the job done even though she looks like she’s this close to throwing something at u every time u ask a question

ok im stumped but ty for making it this far and i look forward to plotting/writing with u <3 

[dokifluffs]

Falling Asleep on Him | Tsukishima, Akaashi, Iwaizumi

Pairings: Tsukishima X Reader (gender neutral), Akaashi X Reader (gender neutral), and Iwaizumi X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: sleepy fluff 🥰 

Author’s Note: time to bring back more group hcs tehe

Falling Asleep on Them | Kenma, Kuroo // Falling Asleep on Them | Oikawa, Atsumu // Falling Asleep on Them | Yamaguchi, Ushijima, Osamu 

Tsukishima: 

The bus swayed ever so slightly on the road as Karasuno returned back home to Miyagi from Tokyo

The dimming sun glistened over the bay as Takeda drove over it

Out of the corner of his eye, with an elbow propped on the window sill, he could see your head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake

He could feel it too with the earbuds the two of you shared

“You know you can sleep, right?” his voice broke the silence and still atmosphere on the bus amongst the snores from the team as they slept after playing two full games back to back,

He peered down to your figure in the seat beside his, seeing you struggle to hard to stay awake for some reason

You wanted so badly to curl up in a ball to conceal yourself from the cold air of the air con

You simply nodded to his words and leaned your head back into your seat, finally giving up trying to fight your need to sleep and let your body relax

It didn’t take long at all with the music playing, the sway of the bus

You melted into sleep, letting your body go, letting your burning eyes rest

Tsukishima kept his own eyes on the horizon, his cheek pressed into his fist resting on the window

His legs were finally able to relax after today’s strenuous day, the games lasting longer than anyone else in the gymnasium could expect

With his eyes finally closing under their own weight, he could remember vividly looking up into the stands, hearing your voice cheering out for him after blocking a ball with Kageyama and Asahi beside him

The block that tipped the game into Karasuno’s favor after what felt like a year long rally

The light in your eyes, excitement bubbling in your voice when he heard you

Even though you were so far away before but you were there

You were here

He could feel his own strength regaining when you threw up a peace sign, a thing the two of you shared-

His eyes opened feeling the sudden bump on his arm, turning to find your head resting on him

He thought nothing of it and let you be, watching you at ease, thinking about how many bus rides and how long it took for you to reach the gymnasium today

But before he could sleep himself, he didn’t miss the goosebumps on your arms, the way your body jolted ever so slightly to the cold air whereas he was unaffected with his club jacket on

He unzipped his bag sitting on his lap and pulled out his beige sweatshirt, draping it over your body without moving too much to bother you

You subconsciously grabbed onto the soft fabric that filled your nose with Tsukishima’s homely smell, making you sigh in your sleep

He felt his ears growing hot, turning his eyes back outside as he slowly returned to his memories that lulled him to sleep for the rest of the bus ride back home

Akaashi: 

Soft rain trickled down the sides of the house as it tapped off the roof, bouncing off the leaves and windows, all surfaces outside

The rainy breeze blew through the screens of the windows that were pulled open, making the sheer white curtains in the bedroom float briskly, the ambiance in the room so peaceful

And the best part was being beside Keiji

His fingers danced with yours as he laid on his back, head propped on his pillows with his glasses on, legs propped up with a book in his other hand

You laid on your back, his body acting as your pillow for you as you held your own book

Your mind let you flit through the flowery fields in a different world on the edge of your comprehension, imagining Keiji beside you, the two of you without any worries in life, nothing being a bother

As you took the words in of the story of the two main characters, you imagined yourself and Keiji as them

He spun you around in the sunny field, pulling your bodies close together so he could dance

Your hand holding the top of your book to your stomach wavered, the book wobbly, your breathing slowing down

He smiled to himself seeing the way your chest was rising and falling slowly, your eyelashes struggling to hold open your eyes

The feeling of taps on your wrist pulled your mind from the world you were in, pulling you bask to reality

“Tired?” He brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing it back so he cleared the hair from your face

“Just dreaming with my eyes open,” you spoke, turning your body to the side to meet his sea green eyes as they looked down to you as you nuzzled your face in his hand, his thumb rubbing your cheek just below your eye

“What about?” You closed your eyes against his touch

“Us,” you kissed his palm

The way you did this so easily always made his heart flutter, bis body welling up with a warmth like no other

“What’re you reading?” You asked, repositioning yourself as you closed your book and set it to the side, laying beside him, your arm and leg draped over his

“I’ll read it to you, hm?” He asked, shifting his head to look at you as you nodded

Keiji’s voice was soft as the words rolled off his tongue, painting vivid images in your mind, yet again bringing you to an entirely new place

He read on, finishing the chapter, smiling to himself already knowing you were fast asleep with the way your body stilled against his

Your breaths slowed and deep, cheek squished into his shoulder

“Cute…” he leaned and pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing his reading

All the books he could possibly read could bring him thousands of miles away to an entirely different universe but he didn’t need to let his imagination take him anywhere else, keeping him grounded here where he was with you

You were his world and able to take him on an adventure just being with you

Iwaizumi: 

You jumped harshly to the sudden booming sound of an explosion that sounded all around the basement theater of Hajime’s house, sending your heart racing in your chest

His theater was one that was adjusted perfect to his preferences so he could watch all the movies he wanted in the comfort of his home

The two of you were on a mission that started after dinner to kick off the start of summer- a movie marathon of all of Hajime’s favorite movies that you had never seen before, starting with his all time favorite, Godzilla

So far, the two of you were two-thirds of the way through and it was already almost 2am

It wasn’t too long, about an hour after the usual time you slept but you had been all over the city today to run some errands, ending the day with Hajime

You leaned on a pillow rested on his propped up legs on the couch, your jolt going very noticeable by Hajime

“Are you scared?” He laughed, his hand rubbing your thigh

“No,” you smiled tiredly in the dark, leaning your head back to look up to him, the light of the tv illuminating his face. “I’m just tired,” you yawned

“Do you want to go upstairs and sleep then?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head. “If you want to finish the movie, then let’s go up after it’s done.” You took his hand in yours and rested it on your chest, your body naturally cuddling it, fingers trailing up and down his forearm, taking in his warmth

“Sleep here, then.” He moved your pillow and lowered his leg slightly, making room for you in his lap

The thunderous booms went off again, making you jump that just made Hajime smile at you as the heroes in the movie continued to fight against the villains

You laid across his lap, laying down at an inclined angle

Your back rested on his thighs, feet still propped up on the couch

His arm became your personal pillow, the other resting on the side over your body, his hand drawing shapes on your back

“I got you,” he smirked to himself peering down to your sleepy self, your breathing already slowed

He turned the volume down a bit for the rest of the movie

Hajime found himself glancing down to you every now and then, readjusting his arm that was your pillow so it wasn’t uncomfortable for you

He shifted his legs, bringing your body even closer to his, not minding the weight or how hot his body was getting with yours on top

You breathed gently, your nose filling with the scent of Hajime holding you lovingly

He savored this feeling, knowing he was going to be going hundreds and thousands of miles away by the time this summer would be ending

He only had this last summer with you, with his friends and he wanted to make all the memories he could before he would be in an entirely different country, halfway across the world from you

“I’ll always got you,” he said these simple words you didn’t even hear but meant it with his soul as he leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, his attention drifting away from the movie and more onto you instead

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan@turquoiselace​ @macaronnv  @oxmaddy​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​ @curiouslilbeast​ @oyasenpai​​ @plantisnotplant

[secondhand-trash]

Decadence

A/N: I felt a sudden dash of inspiration at 2am and this is the result lmao

Descrption: Fushiguro Toji was like a cat, came and went as he pleased. It never really provided you with a reason to let him back in each time, yet it had become a habit of yours to leave a window for him in the times he was away. 

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x reader

Warning: slightly suggestive, if you are reading a toji fic I’m just going to assume you have read the manga, smoking, mentions of drinking, not exactly a happy piece of writing 

Word count: 2620

Playlist:

Cigarettes//Russian Red

-

Sometimes you just laid there and stared at the ceiling after you woke up, the tender rhythm of your breathing echoing back to you through your eardrums reminding you that you were still alive no matter how much it didn’t felt that way.

They said there’s a weight to your soul, but right now you just felt nothing.

There was a special type of letting yourself go called waking up when the sun was shining bright outside, the blinding shine breaking through your cheap curtains. You had just woken up but you wanted to go back to sleep again, yet the heaviness in your head almost alluring to what having a fever felt like forced your eyes awake. 

You had no choice, or rather, no motivation to do anything but stay put right where you were, on the thin mattress that you took from the previous tenant who lived next door (”What?” you clicked your tongue at the above you man who paused as he slammed your back down on the bed, it was not comfortable and he most definitely felt that one spring stabbing at his knee, “it’s free.”). There was a stain at the corner of your tiny room, probably because the kitchen fan forcefully installed on the wall was not doing its job. The greasiness lingered in the air every time you tried to cook anything, making you sick in the stomach when you buried your face on your pillow that was just a few steps away from your stove. 

You gave up cooking soon entirely, it was not like there was anyone you could eat with anyways.

Fushiguro Toji came and went as he pleased, showing up at your door with a few cans of beer and a pack of cigarette whenever he was in the mood like he did not disappear without a word after the last time you saw him.

You didn’t ask where he had been or where was he before he was here at your place, you knew this was why he always came back to you. 

Just like how you never asked him, or yourself for that matter, whether any of this meant a thing.

“Don’t smoke here,” you said with your arms crossed in front of your chest, your back to the door as he tilted his frame to pass through your doorframe that seemed ridiculously small with him under it, “took me days to get rid of the smell last time.”

Sometimes he came every few days, mostly you would see him waiting under the lamp post at the corner of your block every other week. There was one time when you did not see him for a good few years. You were certain he had died, he had business enough people for it to not be a surprise to anyone. You could not say a word when you came back and saw him crouching in front of your door with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, toying the lighter in his palm. He was staring ahead but not focusing on anything, looking so out of place in the middle of the thin corridor of your apartment building.

It was also the one and only time you had felt the urge to ask him if he was okay, you refrained.

instead, you gave his frame a push with your heel. He did not budge, like you did nothing but gave him a tap on his shoulder and looked up. “You look like shit, Zenin.”

Where have you been? You swallowed the words that were so close to the tip of your tongue back down to your stomach together with the knot at the back of your throat.

He only shook his head as he stood up, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and took a breath that would have been a drag. “No,” you had no idea what had gotten into him, “Fushiguro.”

He did not sleep with you that night, but you did let him smoke in your tiny little flat.

To this day, you still had no idea what made him show up at your door again.

“Hm,” you were not sure if he was really answering you when he slummed down at the foot of your mattress. It was a talent how he acted like he had never left, like this was his spot as he leaned back with one palm holding him up and cracking a can of beer open with another. You always had a fascination with how easy he made it look, one crock of his index finger and you could hear the foam rushing out, “you want one?”

The smashed cans were still laying on the small table at the corner of your room. It was your dining table, writing desk and bedside table all at once, you hoped you did not spill anything on it last night. The half-gone pack of cigarettes was next to your bed, the joints sliding off of each other in the stack it was in. 

There was an ashtray next to it and it was really just a centerpiece when Toji was not here. You had refused to get one for the longest time, but gave in after you realised the only difference it would make was that the burnt out tobacco would be in your kitchen sink or somewhere it should be. The one he had lit up when he finally crawled off of your tired body begrudgingly was roughly put out on the glass, bent into half and somewhat intact.

Shamefully, you did not have nearly as much distaste for his addiction as much as you protested it. You could not deny that it was a picture when he leaned against the only window in your flat, his back to you in all his glory as the spark lit up and cast a warm glow to your ceiling. He sounded calm when he took the first drag, a soft hum following the inhale as white smoke blended into the dark of the Tokyo sky. It was never really quiet out there, and sometimes you would hear the cars running by the highway at a distance or the people with a home they refused to return to shouting down the streets. All with the swirls coming out of his lips, his shoulder easing down slowly with each puff.

Sometimes you wondered if you should be like the girls you saw in films, reaching out for the brooding man looking out their window and ask them to come back to bed sweetly. Perhaps you should act more lovable, like someone that would giggle into their lover’s chest when they did come back with a gruff.

The thought made your skin crawl, and you turned to your side until you could not see his frame before poking your tongue out in disgust.

That was not the way things worked with you two.

You had no idea what time it was but you guessed that it could not be early. The shadow that cut diagonally on the wall had already gotten defined, the sharp black border moving slowly across the oxidized wallpaper. Occasionally, in midst of the silence, you could it each time a train drove in and out of the station. The railway being near your apartment was the only thing good about it, but it also meant that each click on the tracks pounded into your ear like piles driving into your brain.

Tuk. Tuk. Tuk.

The room was starting to feel stuffy and hot, the body next to yours on your crowded mattress did not help at all. Toji usually left first thing in the morning, either that or he would not stay the night at all. You could not remember when was the last time you woke up next to him, but it was almost always followed by a long period of him being out of your sight. The thin blanket felt tiny trying to cover his large frame, the fabric pulled taut with you refusing to give up on it. It was your blanket on your bed in your house, who was he to hog it? 

You felt the temptation to reach out and trace the faded cut slashed down his lips with them parted just slightly, a rare serenity on his face. His lashes were long, that was another thing you had picked up on as you just watched. You could imagine him to be a beautiful man, before the scares and the scrawl and the smell of smoke lingering in his breath.

Fushiguro Toji was like a cat, came and went as he pleased. It never really provided you with a reason to let him back in each time, yet it had become a habit of yours to leave a window for him in the times he was away. Do not ask where he had been, the only thing you would get is your own reflection in his eyes. He was not your cat, never. You doubted that strays could truly adapt to domesticity.

Or rather, you never had the guts to see what would happen if you trap them down.

Instead, you watched, watched as the cat elegantly yawned and stretched its limbs out like the tyrant it was.

The blanket slid off his chest when he moved, showing you the many scars littering all over his skin. Scratches did nothing compared to all the other ones that darted over his frame like badges, you gave up trying to leave a trace anywhere on him a long time ago. One hook of your leg around his waist caught his attention and he yanked you by the arm to place you on his chest, not forgetting to slide his palm down your waist under he was cupping the swell of your hips.

‘Tsk’, you wanted to snicker, ‘skillful.’

“You wanna fuck again?” he quirked one eyebrow up, his tone sounding more like a question than an invite by any means.

“Huh...” the nasal in your voice was apparent as you laid your head on his firm muscles. 

And it was not like you had never wanted to make him stay past the few moments he was with you in the rare hours of daylight you spent together, you were just certain things would get messy whether he did as you asked or not.

Afternoons in bed were lazy, slow, sticky and hard to peel your hands away.

That just wasn’t what this was supposed to be.

“Don’t you have anywhere to be?” you asked, as always.

“I do, actually.” 

You lifted your head to look at him in, “But the horse races are not open today.”

He gave your ass a slap, and you gasped before trying to hit him back.

“Surprise, surprise, I’m working again,” the corner of his lips tugged up into a lazy smirk at your irritation, “someone contacted me, I’m going to see what they are offering today.”

You blinked.

“Are you taking it?” you asked, carefully.

He shrugged, before giving where he smacked down a condescending pat before sliding you off of him. 

“Who knows,” he rolled his arms back, the defined edges of his biceps flexing as he cracked his neck, “depends on how much they are paying me.”

So he would be gone for god knows how long again, lovely. You gave yourself a subtle nod of acknowledgement at how you saw this coming. 

He strode to the side to pick up his clothes that were littered across the floor, and your gaze followed him as he went to your table last.

If he was just a regular man you happened to bring home, you would roll your eyes at him for not at least shoving the beer cans into the trash as he took his shirt from the pile.

You tucked your arm under your pillow as you watched his fingers took one out of the box swiftly, feeling your body sink down the ill-quality mattress.

It was always at this point that the rush to ask him to stay would surface. But you would never try to do that, obviously.

‘When will I see you again?’ you were almost tempted to ask when he had one hand on the doorknob, but you weren’t sure if this was something he could give you an answer to.

So you said what you always say when he was about to disappear from your life again, with a smile as you bury your face deeper into your pillow.

“Try not to die.”

-

There was a daunting feeling that this was it. 

But again, the thought always plagued you during these blank periods.

Something at the back of your head told you that something went wrong. Maybe he died, you savoured the taste of these words on your tongue as you laid flat on your bed. After all, no one could say it was a surprise if he truly got killed on the job out there. He never really told you too much about what he did for a living. You figured out the gambling part on your own, and the scars on his skin warned you against asking further. 

Your relationship, if there ever was one, relied heavily on neither of you caring about each other enough to want to know more than the way he liked you to take his shirt off for him and the spot behind your ear was sensitive. There was a moment when you wondered if you had, or ever was in love with Fushiguro Toji. Back when he was still Zenin Toji, or when you felt the drop of your heart as he casually told you the change in his family name. 

It would be a travesty if you did.

The pack of cigarettes he forgot to take with him was still laying exactly where he left it, together with the lighter that was tugged into the cap. You had never smoked, one thing that he always made fun of you for. You did not like the smell and could barely imagine what it tasted like. 

You only liked it when you were the one watching him do it.

The tiny stick felt strange on between the pads of your finger, and you awkwardly mimicked the way you had seen him do it all these times. A forceful shove of the window sent a current of wind into your flat, the breeze tickling your cheek as you let your head fell back and took a deep breath.

Like someone waiting for their cat to come home.

Your body hung out of the window with one arm on the frame. The lighter did not work until the third click, and you stared as the end of the cigarette slowly started to glow under the flame.

The pungent smell made you furrow your eyebrows together and you clicked your tongue. The sun was starting to sink in a distance and the white smoke was all the more visible under the bright orange sun. You lifted your hand up to the sun, and tipped it like you would at a toast.

This was for you.

One inhale sent you coughing, and your eyes teared up at the unfamiliar sting at the back of your throat.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed, slamming down on the window frame as you sucked in a deep breath to wash the feeling away.

If he ever showed up again, you thought to yourself as you violently put off the cigarette on the ashtray, you were definitely questioning him what was so good about this.

-

You did not see him for a long, long time after that.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.

That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.

Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.

In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.

The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.

He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.

And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.

He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.

For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.

A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.

Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.

The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.

Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.

They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.

“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”

Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.

“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.

“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.

“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.

“Can I hear you, baby boy?”

He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.

He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.

“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.

“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.

Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.

So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.

It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.

As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.

So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.

He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.

He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.

Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.  

In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.

“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”

Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.

“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”

He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.  

“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”

“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”

“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.

“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”

“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.

“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.

“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.

“Good boy.”

“You know I am.”

“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”

MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game.  They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.

Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.  

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”

That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that?  The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?

He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.

That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–

Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing –  he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.

It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.

But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.

Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.

He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.

He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.

Well, none except for one.

“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.

“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.

“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”

He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.

“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”

Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:

“I need to see you.”

Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–

“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.

Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!

Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.

Right?

“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”

Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.

Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.

But.

Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.

“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”

That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.

Right?

“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.

“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–  

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”

Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.

Some other times, it felt good to forget.

[writingssummit]

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 !

dancing headcannons !

content: fluff, that’s really it lol 

characters: sugawara, terushima, tendou, yamaguchi, oikawa.

a/n: not me listening to a haikyuu playlist and getting inspo from it- totally didn’t stay up all night to finish season 3 either wha t ? idk what you’re talking about.

i noticed my bnha post didn’t do so well, so i’ll stick with the haikyuu guys (and girls maybe? ooo) for now <3 hope you enjoy some silly fluff with them !

sugawara !

2nd most wholesome on this list.

Suga and you are just cleaning up the gym after practice one day.

You’re not exactly glad to be doing it, but you had offered to help your boyfriend out earlier,so there was no turning back now.

You had decided to play some music at some point, opting for an upbeat playlist to help you.

With motivation, of course! Upbeat music got you in that mood. Plus, the sound was cool inside the gym.

You hear Sugawara humming along every so often, the way you two moved around each other as you cleaned was almost like it’s own kind of dance, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sugar, come here.”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you away from the task at hand all of a sudden

You protest a little, but you give in and just stay put.

He’s grinning at you, tugging you a little closer.

“What’s this?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“Just a little dance, c’mon! The clean up can wait a bit longer. Your face will get wrinkles with how much you’ve been pouting.”

Okay backhanded remark aside, you couldn’t just say no

You laugh as he sways back an forth with you to the beat, occasionally stepping on each other.

“Guess we both have two left feet, Y/N.” He jokes, spinning you around as the song changed to a slower one.

Any dances with him are just lighthearted and fun, neither of you really minding the fact that it was so offbeat.

Get dance lessons smh 

He’d add in twirls here and there

Eventually you’d settle down from all the laughs and goofing off and just sway back and forth slowly, you head resting on his chest, his hands on your waist.

Please omg I want this :’)

You guys get so caught up in it that somebody ends up coming back and then catching you both (yes, it was daichi, and yes he left awkwardly).

terushima !

This mans tries to be suave when he dances

You aren’t fooling anybody okay

stick with the sprinkler or something -

If anything, his dancing can be described as chaotic and random.

Sure, he has some moves but sir you aren’t michael jackson or something- 

One night in particular though, it’s a bit different. 

He kept bugging you to check something out with him that night, and so you just agreed instead of arguing about it at 2am.

He shows up at your window and he climbs inside your room.

Yes, yes he did and I do not regret that 

“Y/N! Check it out!”

You have to shush him because wtf it’s 3AM SIR

He’s quick to apologize, and just shoves one of the earbuds to his phone at you, and you of course pop it into your ear

And then you’re being pulled close and away gently, and his tongue is sticking out in slight concentration. cute :’)

i honestly forgot what this was called so uh my bad but it’s really fun trust me

“Somebody’s been practicing.” Tease him, please LOL

“It’s fun, right??”

So he CAN dance, if he actually tries. B)

Yeah don’t forget that he literally snuck into your house, because I sure haven’t

Your parents woke up not soon after you both started to laugh and giggle, but you didn’t hear the footsteps because you both were to wrapped up in the music and each other

Let’s just say he was banned from the house for a month or so 

Worth it though

tendou !

At this point it’s common knowledge that he breaks out into little dances randomly 

He isn’t even confined to any actual type of dance, he just goes for whatever he feels like doing in the moment, whatever feels right

So whenever you dance with him, it’s always really entertaining to watch him

But

He’ll tug you into a dance literally anywhere without a care in the world.

Which is cute omg, but social anxiety could never

This time just happened to be on the sidewalk, because there was a musician, and in Tendou’s words; “We can’t just let their music go to waste~”

So yeah, he’s dancing with you on the sidewalk in front of literal strangers and you’re embarrassed to say the least dw i would be too T^T

Like sir please why here

He’s reassuring you over and over that you’re just fine, let the people stare, etc etc. After all, you’re just having fun together, and that’s no crime

True, y’all could be robbing the pet store of hamsters if you really wanted to. yes i imagine he would do that and I’ll say it again smh

You end up loosening up eventually, he was just too happy and c’mon, this is Tendou. :’)

Y’all may have started a public dance floor

And it’s awesome as hell when you think about it

He twirls you dramatically, waving his free hand around as he hummed along to the song.

“Y/N, see what happens when you have just a liiiittle bit of fun? Hm~?”

Okay fine you see his point there

Literally sounds so fun to do this, so he gets 100/10 

yamaguchi !

Here’s the most wholesome one imo. unless that was tendou, idk-

Yams is so sweet with you, to the way he holds your hand, how he talks to you, all of it.

Dancing with you is no exception here.

He and you were sitting in the living room, all snuggled up on the couch together because it was a rainy day. 

Rainy days were always so calm and nice with him, just watching tv or napping together.

Yams asked you if you wanted to dance this time, rather bashfully though

And then you had an amazing idea

“What if we did it outside? Like in the movies?”

“H-Huh?”

Baby is blushing :’)

But he’s totally up for the idea, he’s nodding and agreeing right away.

Which is how you guys ended up outside in the pouring rain. 

You both were not prepared for the feeling of wet clothes sticking to your skin, it was mildly uncomfortable to say the least-

But you guys were just barefoot on the driveway and you both were holding each other close, just enjoying being there together that it kind of outweighed the initial discomfort

You settled for gentle, slow swying as your head rested against him, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek every once and awhile

Yes his head is resting on top of yours, or at least his chin is resting on your shoulder

He makes a joke about how it’s weird to dance with no music

And then you end up just humming together and making your own. :’)

By the time you guys are done, you both vow to do it again, it was actually really calming

But of course y’all are soaking wet so it’s dry off time

Expect many cuddles after :D

oikawa !

Okay as much as he’s not my favorite of all time

I can appreciate the idea that he’d be the most knowledgeable dancer on this list

Like mans can serve and set like nobody’s business

But he can also dance.

He’s honestly proud of his dance skills, and takes it upon himself to teach you.

He’s a a bad teacher tho -

You guys are at your house during a holiday with your family, and he of course said his present to you this year is to teach you how to dance

Your family finds it funny because they know you can’t dance for your life.

But they’re egging Oikawa on

“Please no, end my suffering”

“So dramatic, tsk tsk. C’mon, Y/N-chan, it’ll be fun! I’m a great teacher.”

No you aren’t but go off LMAO

The first 15 minutes is awkward because you literally don’t know where to put your feet or hands.

Oikawa is smirking at you, because he finds it adorable 

After a bit of teaching you have some of it down, so now it’s just you both waltzing around the living room, trying not to bump into furniture

Your family is clapping and hooting because that’s what parents do apparently

You smack his arm lightly when he leans down to peck at your jaw real quick

Sir please

He gets a A+ for actually knowing an actual dance dance, but a B because

I know he would suck at teaching.

thanks for reading this ! i hope these were decent, i had fun writing tendou’s and suga’s, it gave me serotonin LOL - 

asks/requests are open ! check yay’s and nay’s in basics for this blog !

[song-fox]

A/N: Can't believe I forgot to post this one smh...

This was a little more of an experimental one! I was first gonna do the dialogue first to see if it helped the flow of writing, but I rlly liked how it turned out without narration, so... take this.

*

Hy-drate Or Die-Drate– Analogical

*

"Logan? What are you doing?"

"Work...? Why?"

"It's 2am, why are you still even awake?"

"It is? Oh, my apologies, I hadn't noticed."

"Dude, it's not me you should be apologizing to. Go to bed."

"Virgil, I appreciate the concern, but I assure you, I'm fine. You should go to bed yourself."

"Dude."

"What?"

"It's literally 2 o'clock in the morning. Aren't you the one saying that you should go to sleep at like... 10pm at the latest?"

"Yes, however-"

"'However' my ass. As your boyfriend, I suggest you go to bed before I drag you off your butt and put you there myself."

"Virgil, I'm perfectly fine, you don't need to worry."

"...seriously? The boyfriend card didn't work? Gagh, it always works when Patton does it on Roman- okay, as Anxiety, I'm making you go to bed."

"What do you- Virgil! What are you doing? Put me down-!"

"Sorry Specs, this is how it works."

"What are you-?"

"Go. To. Sleep."

"Hmph. Well, sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm going to-"

"Get back here and cuddle me, asshat."

"...are you trying to tempt me into healthier sleeping habits?"

"Is it working?"

"..."

"That's what I thought."

*

"...Virgil?"

"*UNHOLY SCREECHING–*"

"AGH! Virgil, what are you-"

"'Virgil, what are you doing awake at this hour?' Yes, yes, I get it, but why are you awake?"

"I was awoken by the sound of footsteps, why are you-?"

"...uh, I..."

"Hm?"

"..."

"...ah. I understand. But you should go to bed. Remember what you told me last week?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, circadian rhythm, blah blah blah, I'll go to bed."

"Good."

"..."

"...would you like to sleep in my room?"

"...maybe. Why are you patting the door like that?"

"Come here, kitty kitty kitty. Pspspspspsps–"

"Oh dear god, why am I in love with you–"

*

"Two jars of Crofters, four mugs of black coffee, six hours staring at your laptop screen... 'healthier habits', huh?"

"Virgil! Oh, uh, I wasn't aware you were watching."

"Dude, I've been standing here for the past twenty minutes. Are you alright?"

"I believe it would be futile to lie, so I might as well tell you that– ...what is the purpose of this?"

"It's called a water bottle, genius. Hy-drate or die-drate."

"Interesting phrasing."

"Just drink it, you haven't had a drop of water since last night. When Princey threw tap water at you and you accidentally swallowed some."

"...okay, I see your point."

"Awesome. Now come with me, get some air outside."

"But it's 7pm...?"

"Never stopped me before."

"Alright, I suppose I'll accompany you outside. But no longer than ten minutes, I have to get back to work soon."

"Dude."

"Okay, fine. Half an hour, fourty five minutes at the most."

"Done. Pleasure doing business with you."

*

"Virgil."

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Reading one of your Agathe Christie books, like you suggested. This one's actually pretty good. Why?"

"Virgil."

"Yeah?"

"I'm fully aware that you know what I'm talking about."

"Nope. But do enlighten me."

"You're sitting on my desk."

"Your point?"

"You're sitting on my belongings."

"And? It's not like I eat enough to break any of them."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Ugh, what are you trying to do, anyway?"

"...it's not a subtle ploy to get you to stop working, if you're asking."

"...and you had to sit on my desk because...?"

"Well, I was gonna just steal your laptop, but that would have taken too much work."

"You were going to-?"

"Unimportant, you need to relax. The others have something set up in the commons, they wanted us to join them."

"Ah."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, I just... I suppose I didn't–"

"Didn't want you there? Trust me, L, I know the feeling."

"I thought they'd assume that I'm working, like usual."

"And you were."

"Yes, however–"

"Just– come on. They're waiting for us."

*

"HELLO VIRGIL ANXIETY SANDERS, HAVE YOU BEEN EATING THE PROPER AMOUNT OF FOOD REQUIRED FOR THE DAY SO FAR?"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST–"

"Oh– my apologies, I didn't intend for that to happen."

"Agh... it's fine, whatever. Help me up?"

"Of course."

"GAGH– uh, thanks. Now why the fuck were you yelling?"

"Roman suggested that the best way to get your attention was to catch you by surprise."

"...and you–"

"In hindsight, yes, it was a bad idea."

"...right."

"Actually, you never responded."

"To what?"

"My question."

"Yeah, probably because you barged into my room and made me fall off my chair."

"Okay, so an answer?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...viRGIL SANDERS GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW– NO DO NOT CLIMB OUT THE WINDOW OH MY GOD–"

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE-!"

*

...well that was dumb.

[sdv-mostly-shane]

The Flowers.

Summary: the farmer is inundated with anonymous flowers-they can’t figure out who it is, until a certain hooded someone is seen in the shadows.

‘Hm. That’s strange.”

The farmer huffed in a bemused manner. Right in front of them, stuffed precariously in their mailbox, was a carefully tied bundle of flowers: but not just any flowers- handpicked wildflowers. From the looks of it, they came directly from the little patch of meadow right by the mountain lake. They were vibrant and effervescent (even if a little disheveled from being stuffed in the mailbox)

“How beautiful. There’s no note though.. I wonder who left them.”

The famer had never received flowers prior to this moment, but they were able to hunt down a vase from the dusty rafters of the cellar. The wildflowers, now decidedly placed on the center of the small dinning table, stood proud; the farmer admired their beauty, and then continued about their day-happy to see them once more before they clamored into bed for the night.

“Huh. Another one?”

The farmer stopped themselves from bursting through the door before they trampled over the bundle on their doorstop. The first floral arrangement sitting on their table had not even begun to wilt yet, and yet the farmer had now recieved double the amount of flowers they’ve ever gotten in their lifetime. They scooped down to pick up the flowers, noticing how this bundle was delicately wrapped in newspaper and twine. The delicate petals were pristine this time, having been carefully laid on the doormat. As the farmer searched for another vase, eventually settling for an empty mason jar, they briefly wondered who could have sent them- maybe their parents in the city? For now, they settled with placing their prize on the table, next to the first arrangement.

“Okay that’s a little weird-“ the farmer exclaimed while removing a parcel of sunflowers from inside the hay bailer in their chicken coop “-why here?”

The farmer had already recieved, arranged, and placed their third flower bundle on the table next to the other two from the days prior, but was taken aback by having found a fourth one that very same day.

“Sunflowers aren’t even in season right now... they’re so hard to come by. Why give me these-they’d be much better given to someone they lo-“

The farmer stopped themselves from finishing their sentence; they didn’t want to admit that they potentially had a secret admirer, and was more comforted by telling themselves that it must just be Lewis making them feel at home... okay, maybe not comforted by that thought, but it was better than the anxiety of wondering who could possibly like them enough to deliver anonymous, expensive flowers. The farmer curiously inspected the beautiful specimens as they made their way to the kitchen to find yet another vessel to work as a vase- this time, a small bucket.

“If this keeps happening I’m gonna have to go buy an actual vase... and maybe a bigger table.”

Over the month, the discoveries of more flowers had increased in frequency to the point where the farmer had almost expected them. Parcels of sweet peas, tulips, roses, crocuses, daffodils, and more had now made daily appearances, each day to be found in a more curious spot. It had expanded to where the farmer was finding their secret gifts not only on their farm, but around town. Some of these places the farmer had an easy time of finding, such as tied to the saddle of their horse, hidden in one of their many storage chests, or stuffed in the trelles of a green bean stalk. Others, such as tied upside down to a branch on a tree next to the wizards tower, floating on a log in a puddle on the beach, and (the most curious-) placed under a light rock on the 34th level of the mines, were quite a bit harder to find. Thankfully, these more obscurely hidden ones had a note with the word ‘FARMER’ scribbled on them, but still no name.

“Yeah I definitely need a bigger table.”

The mysterious flowers had completely taken over the kitchen table, and had migrated to every available surface space in their cabin.

1:50 AM struck on the farmers watch-they had just finished milking the sleeping cows, and had in their hand their 49th bundle of flowers, found waiting for them in their milk pail. Only a little exasperated at having to search for a container at 2AM, and a lot anxious to know who they hell, why the hell, and how the hell someone was playing this game on them. As they cautiously made their way toward the farmhouse, eyes opened for any straggling bundles of flowers, a figure hovering by the side of the cabin caught their eye.

A blue tattered hoody, a tangle of jet black hair, and solid hands had clutched in them a bouquet of gardenias; the farmer gasped in recognition and realization of their mystery flower deliverer.

Shane, startled by the farmers loud gasp, had a few moments of brief terror in his eyes, and then hastily ran down the path into town, still clutching the flowers.

“Wait, don’t-!” But Shane was already out of sight. “Does that mean he’s been the one giving me all these flowers...?”

The next day, the farmer got their answer... well, AN answer. When the farmer opened their door at the strike of 6AM, there on their doorstep was not a bouquet a flowers, but their long awaited note. Hurrying, the farmer bent down and read it-

FARMER:

it’s NOT ME. You didn’t see me at your house last night, and I DEFFINITELY WAS NOT holding anything. Not anything, not even flowers. I wasn’t hiding anything, especially not flowers. And I am deffinitely NOT the one responsible for hiding any flowers. Not me. No. And even if I WAS there, I deffinitely WAS NOT trying to hide anything in the rafters of your house. Nope. Okay bye.

love ,

SINCERELY,

SHANE

ps totally not me.

“Yoba please don’t let them know it was me.”

Shane sank into his bed, now back at home at 6:10 AM. Unfortunately for him, his 6:30 alarm had just screamed at him to get ready for work, and he begrudgingly made his way to the shower.

7:10 AM, and Shane was out the door. Or, at least he WAS out the door, until he stopped himself from trampling a box left on his doorstep. He cautiously opened the package to be greeted by the beautiful warm scent of fresh pepper poppers, and taped to the lid, a note :

Shane:

This box was totally and 100% from me. I DEFFINITELY cooked the fastest batch of poppers in my life, and I FOR SURE ran down here to deliver them, all in the span of an hour. It was me. And I also DEFFINITELY tried to take a peek in your window to catch a glimpse of you. Me. Okay bye

Love,

Farmer

ps, nice try on crossing the ‘love’ out on your letter-still DEFFINITELY saw it.

pss, thank you.

“Well fuck.”

Shane looked up to see the smiling face of the farmer leaning against a tree in front of him.

“Maybe they still don’t know it was me who hid the flowers...”

Inspired by :

[a-happy-little-cactus]

Midnight Cuddles

Summary: You can’t sleep, so you go to your friend Bakugou for help, though it’s a bit more than what you were expecting.

Word Count: 1,571

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey ya’ll! I haven’t posted in a really, really, really long time, but here ya go! Let me know what you think! (Also, I’ve been meaning to write this for a very long time, but never got around to it. Super happy I finally did!)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As much as you loved it here at UA, it had officially screwed you up.

Within a few days, you have somehow managed to go from great eating habits and sleep schedule to living off Bang, Monster energy drinks, and black coffee while getting somewhere around 2 and a half hours of sleep.

With midterms starting in a few days, for both normal and hero classes, your sense of self-preservation seemed to have taken a nice long vacation. Between studying and training, self-care was pretty much one of the last things you were worried about at this point.

As of now, you were looking aimlessly between your computer and your notes, debating how many questions you could miss on this test without absolutely failing. Hearing a sudden knock at your door jolted you back to reality, though it took you a minute to register what was going on.

“(Y/N)! I know you’re still awake in there! Let me in for a minute!” 

Usually it wasn’t weird for your best friend Mina to want to have random midnight talks, so this wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Pushing yourself out of your chair and taking a swig of your coffee, you walked to the door, careful not to run into anything on your way over, since you had forgotten to turn on the light even after the sun went down.

“Hey Mina,” you said tiredly.

“Hey girl, I-” Mina paused, glancing behind you at your room, which was currently being illuminated solely by your computer screen, as well as the mess that was currently occupying your desk.

“Uh, is everything okay?” she asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah it’s all-” you stop, having to yawn, before plopping yourself down on the bed- “It’s all good. Just a bit of studying.” 

“Okay, girl, what cup number is that?” Mina asked, gesturing to the coffee cup sitting amongst the many other empty cans.

“Honestly, I’ve stopped counting,” you replied, laughing tiredly.

Mina rolled her eyes, walking over and grabbing the cup of coffee, despite your objections, “Look, you’re going to sleep. This can wait until tomorrow. Besides, Aizawa’s not gonna be too happy if you pass out in the middle of his class.”

“Ughh fine, I’ll go to bed,” you said, accepting that that was probably the most you were going to be able to cram for tonight.

“Good. Well, good night (y/n)!” Mina half shouted from down the hall, in somewhat of an attempt to not wake up everyone else.

“Night!” you yelled back, forcing yourself up from off the bed to get ready to go to sleep.

~time skip~

Despite being unbelievably tired, it had been about 30 minutes since you had finished getting ready for tomorrow morning and laid down, yet you had been completely unable to fall asleep.

‘Stupid caffeinated drinks’ 

You cursed yourself internally for drinking so much coffee. Frustrated, you thought about your options:

You could sneak out downstairs to the common area, but if Aizawa-Sensei happened to be down there, you’d definitely be in trouble.

You could try to cram some more, but you had a feeling if you looked at your Chem. notes one more time you would actually die.

Lastly, you contemplated doing something completely and utterly stupid and irrational: Asking to crash in one of your classmates’ rooms. 

You didn’t know why, but for whatever reason, you found it a lot easier to fall asleep with others near by. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem, since none of the girls really ever minded having an unplanned sleepover. However, considering the fact that it was just over one in the morning, and class started in five hours, you guessed they were all probably asleep. 

You thought about asking one of your guy friends, but Kiri slept like, well, a rock, and wouldn’t wake up without a blaring alarm. You would ask Kaminari, but he was probably still gaming, and it’s not too easy to fall asleep with him yelling at his console in the background. Sero would be a good choice, but he was at a family gathering, and wouldn’t be back until next week. Considering you didn’t really feel comfortable asking the other guys in your class, that left you with one other choice: Bakugou.

While yes, usually Katsuki did go to bed earlier than everyone else, like you, midterms had screwed that up. Even though he was still doing well in class, you had actually bumped into him during a 2am snack run a few days ago, so you guessed it wasn’t too far off to say there’s a chance he might still be awake. Even if he did end up telling you to screw off, it was at least worth trying.

Walking through the boy’s dorm hall, you noticed that you were indeed correct, as even while passing his dorm you could hear Kaminari shouting. What intrigued you though, was seeing the light peeking out from the doorframe of Katsuki’s room.

Knocking, you called for him, “Katsuki, I know you’re at least awake, can you open up?”

After about a minute of silence, the door to his room swung open, and you had a rather irritated looking Bakugou staring you down, the draft flowing from his room making you shiver.

He was wearing a black hoodie with sweats, and had a pair of glasses on, which made you notice the pile of notes, costume redesigns, and other sheets of paper scattered across his desk.

“What do you want dumbass, it’s late, and I’m busy,” he said.

“Uh- Oh right! Um, so, I was uh-” you stuttered out, trying to figure out how to word your sentence, which was proving difficult with the combination of his glare and your tiredness.

“Get to the point extra-” he warned.

“Look, can I sleep in your room tonight?” you asked.

His eyes widened, before regaining his irritated composure.

“How come? You got a room, don’t you?”

“Well, I can’t sleep,” you admitted, though that part was obvious.

“And what makes you think sleeping in my room is gonna change that?” he asked.

You looked away, before answering in a quieter voice, “It’s just, well, it’s just easier for me to sleep when other people are around.”

“Can’t you ask one of your other friends?”

“No, they’re all sleeping, and I don’t want to wake them up,” you replied.

After a moment, he sighed, before opening the door all the way and stepping aside to let you in.

“Fine. But you owe me,” he said.

To that, you lit up, nearly knocking him over with a hug, “Oh my gosh thank you so much! And yeah, that’s fair.”

Katsuki froze, before pushing away from you, averting your gaze.

“Whatever, just don’t bother me,” he said.

“Okay, that’s fine. Do you have any extra pillow’s I can borrow? I’d sleep directly on the ground, but it is hardwood, so I don’t think my skull would particularly like that,” you asked, taking in the rest of his room, which was really just a bed, dresser, and some more miscellaneous papers scattered across the room.

“Why the hell would I have extras, I’m not Mina. And don’t sleep on the floor dumbass, you’re going to wake up with bad back and neck pain, and you’re not going to be able to be at your best for when I beat your ass tomorrow,” he said.

Realizing what he had said, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

‘Just use his bed? But then, is he meaning he wants us to share?’

 The more you thought about it, the more you blushed, so you put the thought away, and made your way into the bed. Thankfully, he only had his desk light on, so you faced the wall to deciding you should be able to sleep just fine like this. 

“Oi, scoot over. You’re hogging the bed,” you hear after a few minutes.

‘Wait, what?’

You turned around to face him, confused, but he only gestured for you to move.

Blushing slightly, and glad he had turned the light off, you comply, giving him room to slip into the bed.

“Um, I uh, I thought you were working?” you ask, glad that the two of you were currently facing opposite directions, though it didn’t really help with your nerves.

“I was working. But it’s two in the morning, and I guess your dumbass reminded me to go to bed,” he said, chuckling lightly at the end. 

“Oh.”

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, you felt the draft of his room again, even with the covers. You had known he kept his room cold, but this was just stupidly cold.

“Hey Katsuki?” you called weakly, in case he had already fallen asleep.

“Hm,”

“It’s really cold, do you have any extra blankets, or could you like, change the AC settings?” you ask.

After a moment, you felt him shifting behind you, before feeling him put his arm around you, his body pressed against yours, and sending warmth back towards you.

You couldn’t do anything other than sit there, a blushing mess, and yet again unbelievably grateful that he couldn’t see your face. 

“Better?” he asked.

“I-um, uh, yeah,” you stutter out, covering your face with one of your hands, making him laugh.

“Good,” he said, sounding a bit proud of himself for his job well done.

That night, despite everything, you two slept better than you had in a very long time.

[cirvat]

Week 4- Creatober

(Ahhh! Week 3 drew a blank! But week 4 brought me back!)

Prompts: Obsession, Become, Repress, Dusk, Exsanguination, and Break

Havenwood Apartments, Maddie mused to herself, was like a feel good monster cartoon come to life. Everything, from the campus grounds to the general theme of the building, was like a bastardization of an Addam’s Family spinoff. 

It was the little things. 

The general color scheme of the building, a dark wood paired with sophisticated shades of teal and gray, evoked a feeling of perpetual dusk. The refusal of the sun to break through the clouds and shine on any part of the grounds. Even the quirks of the tenants were odd.

Ms. Pennyweather of apartment 2A never went anywhere without her needlepoint projects which were always complex collections of foreign words and dark imagery. She would smile in that sweet auntie way while embroidering gory scenes of war and death. Maddie quite liked the bloody embroidery she had done on one of her jackets. She’d called that one ‘Exsanguination’.

Mr. King, in apartment 2B, was never seen during daylight hours, or what passed for daylight hours here. A knock at his door elicited no response before 8pm and his cat, affectionately called Fido, was never in his apartment. The animal was always napping elsewhere, in the kitchen or library or sitting area.

The twins, Misters Warton (apartment 4A), on the other hand never slept. Whenever Maddie got up, be it 7am or 2am, either one or both of them would be up in the library dithering away in their books and debating some inane topic of history.

Finally, there was the Garcia family in 4B who were the most normal tenants in the whole building, and yes Maddie knew that included herself. Or, they seemed like it until she had witnessed Mr. Garcia say, completely unprompted, how chilly a midsummer day was going to be hours before the wind came. 

The only person that seemed halfway average was Regina, Mr. Garcia’s daughter and Maddie’s newly enforced best friend. She attended the same little private school Huang Mulan, Maddie’s latest guardian, had enrolled her in. She giggled like a teenager, watched makeup tutorials, and posted artful pictures of her food to her Instagram. 

The only weird thing about Regina Garcia was how determined she was to be Maddie’s friend. She was kind and helpful and it set Maddie’s teeth on edge like nothing else. She didn’t even complain when Maddie started staring off at the spirits that were haunting her shadow or glaring down the ones that got too close. 

Maddie shook her head, repressing that warmth that bubbled under her skin. She let her eyes refocus back on her newest obsession, although maybe that was too strong of a word.

Watching Huang Mulan, Ms. Huang as Maddie had taken to calling her, paint was quickly becoming one of her favorite pastimes. 

Ms. Huang was honestly the coolest adult Maddie had ever seen. She either dressed to the nines with collared shirts and slacks or she looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Tattoos traced their way from her neck down her arms and spine in waves of dragons and plant life. The septum piercing was pretty cool too. And the pet raven.

“Not a pet.” Ms. Huang said as she dipped her brush in a frankly gorgeous shade of robin’s egg blue.

“What?”

“Have you gotten a chance to explore all that Havenwood has to offer?” Ms. Huang ignored her question as she traced the blue along the tree branches on her canvas. “Perhaps you could allow Ms. Garcia to give you a more in depth tour.”

“Are you really trying to get rid of me right now?” Maddie frowned. “I���ve already seen everything.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, everything I was allowed to see.”

“‘Allowed to see’?”

“Yeah, I’m not a creep!” She huffed. “I didn’t go digging in anyone’s apartments and Mr. Warton told me not to go snooping on the third floor.”

“Hm.” Ms. Huang smiled. “Charlie really should mind his own business on these kinds of matters.”

“What?”

“Madeline. A-Ying. You can go through the third floor.” She turned to look her ward in the eye. “You have my blessing.”

“What, really?” Maddie’s shoulders tensed. 

“Of course.” Ms. Huang turned back to her painting. “Bring your friend along. Who knows what you’ll meet.”

Maddie, who had checked out of the conversation as soon as Ms. Huang had given permission, bolted out of the room. The door of their ground floor apartment slammed open and she turned to the stairs in her sock clad feet. 

She sprinted up the steps, two at a time, to the fourth floor and pounded on the door to apartment 4B. When Regina opened the door she grabbed her arm immediately.

“Huanggavepermissiontoraidthethirdfloor! Mr. Gracia! I’m stealing your daughter!” She screamed into the apartment, hearing something vaguely like an ‘ok’, before yanking Regina out into the hallway. 

“Wait, Maddie, what’s going on?!” Regina stumbled on the carpet. 

“Third floor!”

“What about the third floor? We can’t go there, remember?”

“Ms. Huang gave me permission and told me to bring you so that means you have permission too and we are gonna raid the place I bet there’s some cool shit like dead rats and rotten furniture and maybe you can take a picture for your Insta or some shit! Come on!” She barely spared the time to breathe as she pulled her snooping buddy back down the stairs to the floor beneath them. 

“Uh-Um.. A-are you sure she meant me?” Regina fumbled for her words. Maddie would never understand this girl’s fear of her guardian.

“Who else is forcing their friendship on me? Fido the cat?” She scoffed as she took Regina’s shoulders and frog-marched her to the door for apartment 3A. “He doesn’t give a shit. He’s probably in here all the time.”

“I-I don’t know, Maddie.” Regina rubbed her hands together. “Mr. Warton said that we shouldn’t-”

“And Ms. Huang, you know the owner of the fucking building, said that we could. So we’re gonna.” Maddie tried the door and immediately knelt to pick the lock when it didn’t turn. “She said that ‘Charlie’ should keep his nose out of it.”

“I doubt she said that.”

“Spiritually, she did.” Maddie smirked when the lock clicked and the door opened. 

“You can pick locks?” Regina blinked when she sprung back up to shove the door open. 

“Hell yeah, I can.” Maddie winked at her. “I gotta use these delinquent skills somehow. Come on!”

The room that they entered was nothing like Maddie had expected.

Instead of old wood and dust there were stacks and stacks of paintings. Canvases and frames covered every wall. Almost every square foot of floor space was taken up with statues and busts. There was a small winding path that led through the unlit room. 

The girls glanced at each other before making their way inside. 

“Is this just where she dumps all of the crap she doesn’t sell?” Maddie frowned as she tiptoed along the path. 

“Do you mean Ms. Huang?”

“Yeah. She paints, like, all the fuckin’ time. I just assumed she sold it all to afford shit like this house and art supplies. You ever look at the prices in those art stores? It’s crazy expensive!”

“I guess I didn’t think she had a hobby like that.” Regina shrugged. “I thought she just went around fixing broken stuff and collecting rent.”

“Don’t you do her dirty like th-! Stop!” Maddie threw out an arm, freezing in place. “Did you see that?!”

“See what?” Regina looked over her shoulder. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Sh!” She pointed. “There it was again! Something moved!”

“Oh, god. Do you think there’s actually rats in here?!” Her friend took a step back. 

“No, no! It was up high! Look, look!” Maddie pointed again. This time she caught the movement and watched as a ink-black goldfish slowly swam through the air. It floated over to a painting and disappeared into the canvas, becoming part of the image depicted there.

“What in the world?” 

“There’s more!” The two girls looked up and watched as a school of goldfish meandered through the ceiling beams. Regina glanced to the side staring at one fish as it sailed into another painting and tugged Maddie to watch as the painting itself began to change. 

A young girl swung on a rope swing as a storm slowly approached from behind her. Wind shuffled the leaves, changing their colors, and tugged at the girl’s hair. The fish made its way to her and she started to laugh, cupping the creature close.

Soon they noticed that each painting moved. A seascape patterned through a rushing tide. Ink slowly dribbled across fresh snow. A single wolf shifted in between forest trees. A young man blinked at them from his spot at a low table. 

“Maddie, what’s going on?” Regina tugged at her sleeve. 

“...” Maddie closed her gaping mouth and smiled. “My aunt is a fucking witch!”

[seokjinsdisciple]

A Tiny Favor

jimin x reader, ex!namjoon x reader

warnings: supernatural, some language maybe, tbh this one is pretty pg

Word Count: 1.7k 

The lights surrounding the bus stop were flickering, you checked over your shoulders a few more times. It was almost 2AM, the bus out of your run down town was running late, and as much as you wanted to go back to the comfort of your own home, you knew that was impossible. You sat on the uncomfortable stone bench the terminal has outside, thinking about all of the reasons you were leaving this godforsaken town. 

Yes, you hated it here, your job didn’t pay you as well as it should and your rent was more expensive than it needed to be. Those were all good reasons, you tried to convince yourself, but you knew the real reason why you had left was your now ex-boyfriend. It’s not like there had been anything wrong, at least, that you could prove. Namjoon had just started acting weirdly, and it put you off. So now, you were running away. Like the absolute coward, you were. 

It was almost funny that you had been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t seen him approach. That was, until you felt a presence next to you. 

Luckily, your eyes met with someone who was not your ex, but that didn’t make you feel any better. This man was gorgeous, and when you say gorgeous, you meant it. His perfect complexion, blonde hair, and smile took your breath away. As you tried to gain your composure, the most beautiful laugh you have ever heard filled your ears. 

“I would tell you to take a picture because it’ll last longer, but to be frank, my beauty wouldn’t show up.”

You rolled your eyes then, of course, a man that beautiful would be full of himself.

“You look like you are deep in thought,” he smiled, a knowing smile playing on his lips for just a second, “wanna talk about it?”

You took one last look at his face before letting out a sigh, “I don’t like talking to strangers about my problems.”

“I’m not a stranger!” He spoke, a flash of hurt crossing his face, but leaving as quickly as it had come, “I just meant that we can be friends…”

You knew this wasn’t smart. Telling a stranger everything about your life could get you into serious trouble, especially after you had gone through so much effort to try and disappear. There was just something so familiar about this guy that made you comfortable enough to start your story. 

You explained the whole situation about Namjoon, explaining details you had once forgotten, and answering any lingering questions. When he asked you to start at the beginning and tell you everything about this guy, you were shocked. It wasn’t exactly a short story, and most of your friends hadn’t cared to hear the whole story. But he was invested, hanging onto your every word as if his life depended on it. So you told that story too, and before you knew it, you had told him more stories than you could count. When a comfortable silence fell, he tsked. 

“Tell me,” he spoke, searching your eyes with his own, “Do you believe in God?”

At this you just scoffed, your life has been way too much of a mess for there to be a higher being involved in it. 

“I believe in ghosts more than I believe in God,” you laughed, glancing at the man’s half-smile. 

“Hmm, I think you are like a lot of people,” he winked, causing a laugh to bubble out of your throat, “We still haven’t introduced ourselves.”

“Ah,” you groaned, having been too invested in your stories to be polite, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” the man smiled, “I’m Jimin.”

“Thank you for listening to my stories, Jimin.” You smiled, glancing at the clock outside of the terminal, “What the-”

It read 1:52AM, only 10 minutes later than the time it had been when you looked at it at least an hour or two ago. Jimin followed your gaze, another knowing smirk on his lips. 

“Hm,” He sighed, glancing at the curious look in your eyes with a smile, “I guess it’s broken.”

You just nodded, standing up, “I’ll be right back Jimin, I have got to use the ladies room.”

He just smiled and waved you off, as you curried away, leaving your bag there just in case he thought you were trying to run away from him. 

You noticed the empty desk before you pushed the door into the office open. A bell sounding as you made your way inside. You were planning on asking the nice woman who had helped you earlier where to find the bathrooms, but at her empty desk, you were forced to look around yourself. 

It took you a few minutes of wandering through the winding hallways to find the restroom, but you did it. As you finish up, you took a look at yourself in the mirror, and while you had been outside for most of the night, you looked terrible. You took a moment to splash water on your face and freshen up before returning to Jimin. As you make your way back to the front office, the buzzing noise returned. You pressed a comforting hand to your head, mostly as an attempt to stop the buzzing. 

“You ok, dear?” The woman asked from behind the front desk. Taking in your distressed appearance and smiling lightly, “We get a lot of people trying to run away, but I do gotta say, not many people talk to themselves.”

You frowned, “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean any offense dear, it just looked like you were talking very passionately to yourself. Had to assure other passengers you weren’t going crazy.”

Your eyes flickered over to the window, Jimin’s frame in view from here. Why would she possibly think you were talking to yourself? It’s not like he was hidden from view, in fact, you could see Jimin as clear as day. Not wanting to upset her, and frankly a little confused, you just laughed and gave her a passive excuse, your thoughts drifting to the mysterious man on the bench. 

When you found yourself at the bench, Jimin smiled again. You weren’t going to fall for that this time, however. You were convinced something was up with him, and you were going to figure it out. 

“Do you wanna tell me why the front desk lady is asking me why I’m talking to myself?” You asked, putting on your most intimidating face and scowling as Jimin’s lips curved up. His smile almost conveying a sense of pride in the question you asked. 

“I’ll answer that soon, YN,” he laughed, “But first, allow me one more question?”

His voice was sickeningly sweet, and before you could deny him, you found yourself nodding yes. Your body completely betraying your mind. 

“Hm, I thought so,” he smiled, “I know you don’t believe in God, but what do you think about guardian angels?”

You had to laugh, your grandma had always firmly believed in her guardian angel, and she died believing that her’s would save her. But she was dead, and no guardian angel ever showed itself. 

“I think guardian angels are just ways that people cope with troubling and traumatic situations.”

“Interesting,” he smirked, another knowing look crossing his features, “and tell me, YN. How would you feel if you had just been told your entire existence was merely a coping method?”

You didn’t get it at first, his question swirling around in your brain for a few moments before it clicked. And when it did, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, barely breathing because you were laughing so hard. 

“You mean to tell me,” you paused, trying to catch your breath from your laughter, “That you are a guardian angel.”

“Not just any guardian angel, love. Yours.”

You burst into another fit of laughter, he was insane. There was no other explanation. You wiped the tears from your eyes, the smile dropping as your gaze fell onto Jimin. Jimin who you had been sitting with all night. The same Jimin who now had blindingly bright wings behind him. Your laughter was cut short, a sense of awe replacing your features. You blinked, and when you did, his wings were gone. 

“I thought you might need a little bit of proof.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and taking all of this information in. His sudden appearance on the bench, and the other customers not being able to see him. It was all adding up. But this was insanity. There was no such thing as a guardian angel. Plus, if he was actually your guardian angel, he was doing a shit job. 

“Are you new or something?” you asked, the thoughts of all of the shit things that had happened in the past year circling your mind, “because you might need to get more training or something.”

Jimin just scoffed, “This past year, wasn’t me, love. In fact, I haven’t been able to protect you since that douche started dating you.”

It was true, all of the bad shit that has happened to you has happened after you started dating your ex, but that makes no sense. Literally, how would that stop your so-called guardian angel to not be able to reach you? 

“But, why come see me now? And tell me all of this?”

“Well,” Jimin started, “Heaven’s in a bit of a tough spot, and to be frank, we need your help.”

“My help, why on earth would you need my help?”

“You’re special, YN. So, I promise to help you get anything that you want if you help me with this itty, bitty, tiny little favor.”

“What is the favor?” You asked, your heart rate accelerating at his proposal. Your breath caught in your throat as he showed you a picture of your ex. The one you were currently trying to leave. 

“I’m assuming you recognize him?” Jimin asked, his face serious for one of the first times all night. You could only nod, to which Jimin nodded back, “I need you to kill him.”

“What?” You questioned, “How can you possibly expect me to kill someone for you! I don’t even know you! Plus Namjoon’s my ex-boyfriend, how could killing him possibly save Heaven?”

“Just trust me, YN. You need to kill him.”

“You can’t actually that I’d kill another human being for you!?”

“No, no, no. I don’t want you to kill a human, darling,” Jimin smirked, his eyes twinkling with a boyish sense of excitement, “I want you to kill God.”

a/n: i was completely inspired by this post, and this is what came about from it. Plus the fact that Jimin is my ult and i haven’t written anything for him is shameful.  i might be open to a part two but who knows!!

[solcheeky]

can i request a soft imagine with jaehyun and fem reader?? lets say she’s going through really stressful time (work, school, whatever) and he comes to distract her from it by cuddling and stuff? i hope u know what i mean 😂 also i LOVE your blog wow

“what are you doing here?” you make the weirdest face at jaehyun standing at your door

“a little birdie told me you were still working,” your boyfriend raises a brow clearly distracted by something on your face, “and it’s past midnight, so I came round to check up on you.”

he frowns a little then licks his thumb before bringing it up to your face to rub something off your cheek, “you got pen here.” he mumbles

the cute tilt of his head and worry plastered on his face makes you breathe smile for the first time today

but then you remember what you need to do

“jaehyun I kind of just want to finish up some work tonight,” you lightly push his wrist away from your face, “you can come and distract me tomorrow.”

jaehyun quirks a brow, “you’re not going to let me in?”

you give a him dry look.

“I won’t say anything,” his words incredibly unconvincing, “I promise I’ll just stay on your bed.” then he pretends to zip up his lips, lock them with a fake key and throw it into thin air

“I’m on my bed.” you pout, “if I’m on my bed you can’t be on my bed.”

“says who?” jaehyun ruffles your hair as he makes his way into your dimly lit dorm

you have paper splayed all over your bedsheets, your laptop in the middle and textbooks piled on the floor

jaehyun ignores them though and makes himself comfortable on your sheets

with his back against the wall and legs spread open he looks back up to you

but you’re still standing where he had left you, the front door still wide open as if to tell him he should leave.

but it’s his dimpled smile that melts your heart

“come here,” he pats the space between his legs, “let me keep you company.”

you can’t help but give in

and soon enough you’re pulling your laptop onto your thighs after getting comfortable between his legs

jaehyun wraps his arms lazily around your waist, your back leaning flush against his chest, and his chin resting on top of your head

and just like he had promised, he stayed quiet. letting you type away for little longer and stay focused on whatever you needed to do

at least that’s what he thinks he’s let you done.

from time to time jaehyun pecks the shell of your ear, or presses his lips onto the bare skin of your shoulder

figuring it’s okay because he doesn’t say a word

sometimes jaehyun even lets himself play one-sided footsie with you, or accidentally tickle your skin when his slender fingers find their way under the hem of your top

it’s annoying because you both know he hasn’t broken his promise yet because his lips are still sealed, so technically you shouldn’t be bothered by him

except you are

but only because you love it so much

“jaehyun,” you warn, “please, I’m trying to work.”

“it’s 2am,” he states, “and that thing isn’t due until next week”

“exactly. if I get it done now I can start on the other thing that’s due in next week too”

“y/n”

jaehyun defeated lets go of your waist, the back of his head knocking into the wall behind him, “god you’re stressing me out too.”

your fingers fiddle with the ends of his, a part of you feeling really bad

“it’s two in the morning babe,” he sighs, “you have all day tomorrow finish this up. you’re tired and stressed. you look like shit-”

you squeeze his fingers hard at his playful comment

“ah! I’m kidding!”

his chuckles making you feel warm inside

“you just need some sleep. so let me help you with that.”

but you can’t bring yourself to say yes out loud, especially with your laptop sitting on your lap, your essay glaring right at you 

so instead you lock fingers with him then squeeze

“okay,” jaehyun says under his breath understanding you right away

“okay” you echo after bring his hand up to kiss the back of it

“thanks” you mutter as you watch him move all your stuff to the side so there was enough room for the both of you to lie down

“hm?” jaehyun falls into your pillows patting his chest

and you gratefully take his invitation, “I said thanks” you say quietly into his clothes

“no worries,” jaehyun kisses the top of your head, “that’s what I’m here for.”

end.

(thank you sm!! for loving my blog c:

ps um so, I know you asked for a soft thing but this gave me an idea for a more,,, let’s just say,,,, risqué plot, so I’ll be posting a lowkey smut ver. soon lol hope that’s okay with you

edit: here it is!)

[headoverhiddles]

Business Hours - Matt Graver (Josh Brolin, Sicario) x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You can't stand your fellow team member. The feeling is not mutual.

Notes: Hey everyone, here is the long awaited Sicario fic I promised! Don't worry, there will be another one coming, I'm going to see the sequel tonight, so expect another fic posted tomorrow (ft some Benicio 👀😍). Thank you all for continuing to read my stuff! Means a lot. 💜

Matt Graver.

Even thinking the name makes you want to punch something. Preferably the man himself, but the entitled asswad was nowhere near you right now; probably asleep, as you should be. You had been out drinking last night to forget the shit you saw crossing the border. You were somewhat used to it. Make no mistake, it was a good call to volunteer you instead of your sister, Kate-- you're ex military, turned DEA, and a little more used to blurring the code of conduct under heat than she is. This being said, it was a little tough to see dismembered bodies strung up from every bridge, when all you're used to seeing is packs of cocaine. You think back to your preliminary debrief.

"So. DEA, huh?" Matt nodded, tossing your file down. "DOD myself. We go together like that..." he links his two pinky fingers together, and flashes you a smile. You look away from him."

Hitting the button on the kettle, you hoist yourself up on the counter, rolling your neck.

After that exchange at the debriefing, he had found you again, donning a pair of slacks and some lovely green crocs.

"Ready for some action tomorrow?" he grinned, and you hesitated.

"Tomorrow?"

"Oh, did no one tell you?" he asked boredly, popping in some gum, "We're moving out tomorrow instead of next Tuesday, so pack your stuff."

"Thanks," you grit out, and he comes up to you, staring you straight in the eye. He's only inches away at this point, and you clench your jaw. He just gives you that smug smile.

"No problem." He looks you up and down. "If you need a little help packing up, call me."

"Like I'm going to let you go through my panty drawer, asshole," you shoot back.

"Man, you're crushing my dreams here, (y/l/n)!"

You were rarely ruffled, but his blatant disregard for convention disarmed you. Reminded you a little of... well, you. You swirl the tea bag around in your mug.

"You married?"

You shake your head. "Never had the chance."

"Well yeah, would've been surprised if you said yes. How old're you, anyway?"

"27."

He grins. "Yep. Young and sweet."

You snort. "Everyone who's called me innocent in the past has learned quickly."

"I don't doubt it," he nods, "Chill out. I don't intend to make that mistake."

A knock at your door wakes you from your thoughts. You walk over, and peer through the eyehole to see the man himself, Matt Graver, standing in your doorway with his usual button up, slacks, and flip flops.

"What?" you crack the door open in exasperation.

"Morning, sunshine," he says, checking his 2AM watch time.

"Graver, I'm not in the mood, I've got the daddy of all fucking hangovers," you mutter, and he hums, coming in and sitting down with that shit eating grin.

"Say that again."

You frown, and lock the door. "What?"

"Daddy," he smirks, and you flip him off, pouring some chamomile tea.

"Would you like some tea, Matt? Thanks, I'd love some, (y/n)," he feigns, raising his eyebrows at you, and you resist the smile twitching at your lips, turning away so he doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing it.

"This is my last tea bag," you grumble.

"All the better to share with the guest," he says, and you sigh, pouring him a mug and setting it down in front of him with a punctuated thump. Joining him at the table, you shrug.

"So? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Matt leans back, and you try not to let yourself look down at the bulge he's got in those cargo pants. The fucker probably goes commando, which was even worse with someone that... gifted. He tilts his head at your question. "Eh. Thought I'd drop by."

"Uh huh?" you nod, "Business hours are tomorrow. Like I said, I'm not in the mood."

"Okay, alright, shit," he chuckles, "You take no prisoners. Here. Came to give you this." He slides a manilla folder across the table, and you go to open it. He puts a hand over yours. "Wait until I'm gone to read it. Then I can deal with all your annoying questions tomorrow."

"Annoying questions?" you repeat.

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't ask such annoying questions if you didn't give me such an annoying answers," you retort, and look down. His hand is still on top of yours. He notices that you've noticed, and slowly removes it, not without that smirk.

"What did you do before you became DEA?"

"I've always been DEA."

"Nah, I think you're just a private person. C'mon... I'm curious."

You take a deep breath, and give up. "I served in the army."

He sobers up. "Where?"

"Iraq. Like my sister's partner."

"I respect that. I respect you, contrary to what you probably believe."

You scoff, taking a sip of your tea. "I believe you respect very few people, Mr. Graver."

"Keen guess, and you're one of 'em."

You look up at him over your cup, and can't help but believe his honest eyes... and the way he's looking at you--

God, the tension between you two has been killer since you met. It seemed as if even the others had begun to notice. It's just his confidence, his carefree attitude, the ease with which he does his job. You wouldn't call it graceful, but you would call it smart.

"What're you thinking about?" he asks softly.

"You."

He's surprised at the straightforward answer. "Really?"

"I don't know what to make of you. You're a mystery to me, yet you're the least mysterious person on this god damn team. I hate mysteries, Graver."

"I don't think you've seen many guys like me. That's all," he says, "Guys who nail the whole, maximum results, minimum effort deal."

"But I can't figure something out," you mutter, pushing your cup away in frustration. Does he like you, or does he just like to play?

"You're wondering if I was pulling all that flirty stuff outta my ass," he nods, chuckling. You bite your lip at the deep sound, and rub a hand over your eyes. "Well... truth is, no. It wasn't all bullshit." He sits forward. "I think you're a fuckin knock out, and I wanna have you on every surface of this room. There, boom. The truth is out." He puts his hands behind his head. "Like I said. If you need help, I'm always here."

You blink at him, then slide forward to press your lips to his. He warmly reciprocates, putting his large hand behind your head to keep you there, and using the other one to pull you into his lap. You moan into his mouth, and he bounces you, stealing your lips into his mouth with a grunt. You reach down feverishly to unbuckle his pants, and he helps you with yours as well. It's as if both of you are racing the other to see who can get who undressed first, and he ultimately wins, yanking your pants down and off. You take off his shirt, running your hands up his heaving chest, and he does the same for you, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You gaze down at him, your lips barely ghosting over one another's.

"You're the first guy who's gotten it on the first try."

"What can I say? I've cracked the code," he smirks, and kisses you again, lifting you up so that your legs are wrapped around his middle. You continue to make out with him as he holds you against the wall, using one hand to drop his pants. You cluck your tongue as you look down at his cock, boxer-free.

"I was right."

He gives you a funny look, before reaching down to grab a condom from his pocket. "Do me a favour, open this?" he asks, and holds it up for you to rip with your teeth. "Impressive."

"Why the hell did you bring a condom?" you sigh, wondering why you're even asking.

"I guess you could say my intentions were not pure," he grins, and slides the protection on. You bite your lip, feeling yourself get even wetter at the prospect of taking that. You had only had a few skilled and endowed lovers in your lifetime, and you had a feeling that this was going to put all the others to shame.

"Ready?" he groans in your ear, pumping himself in his fist.

"Yeah," you whisper, and he reaches down to dip two fingers into you, running them through your slick and then parting your folds. He moves his fingers up to your clit, and begins to rub as he finally pushes himself in.

"Ahg--" you fall forward into his chest, your arms looping around his neck tightly, "Ohgod-- Matt..."

"Use your words, honey," he coos gently, starting up a steady, rocking pace. His hips rotate as if he's swinging them, each time thrusting deep inside you. After the sixth thrust, you feel him reach your g-spot, and you gasp.

"There! There, there... oh fuck, Matt, please..."

He gives a self-satisfied smirk. "Enjoying yourself, huh?"

"Fuck... you..." you growl, throwing back your head.

"You're doing a sweet job of that, (y/n)," he laughs, and starts going harder, increasing his thrusting.

"Please... pl... pl... oh..." your clit throbs as he continues to stroke and rub and stimulate it, and while that hand does that and his hips hold you against the wall, he uses the other hand to wrap a hand around your left breast, squeezing and massaging until he moves onto the other one.

"Beautiful," he muses, and you moan again as he continues to take you against the wall. After a moment, he bites his lip, and spins you both around, setting you on your back, on the table. The tea spills a little-- neither of you care. He covers your body with his larger one, thrusting in perfectly, again and again until you feel your orgasm coming.

"Matt... Matt, oh!" You get lost in the headspace. "Fuck me, daddy!"

He groans, eyelids squeezing shut, and now he really starts to fuck you, so hard the table moves. "That's it... what a good girl for daddy... daddy's girl, hm? That's amazing, sweetheart, let daddy fuck you just right..."

"Mmm," you whine, grabbing onto his arms, and he connects your lips one last time as he tugs your hair back, exposing you neck for him to suck.

"Mine..." his voice vibrates through you as he marks you and repeats that against your skin.

"Please... Matt, daddy, daddy please let me..."

"Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart," he murmurs, switching his quick, rough thrusts to slow, deep pounds as he holds one palm flat on the tabletop. You just about sob at the feeling.

"Please, let me come!"

"Don't let me hold you back," he smirks, pressing a kiss to the corner of your open lips, and you climax hard, feeling your wetness coat him. He keeps fucking you through it, until he's sure you've had your fill. Then, he pumps a few more times inside of you, shuddering and moaning your name. You hold onto him as he comes too, meeting his eyes. He looks debauched, and you're sure you do too.

"Two surfaces," he breathes, falling back into his chair.

"What?" you pant as well as he grabs his shirt and sits back down too.

"I only fucked you on two surfaces," he begins to smile, "That's a couple fewer than I promised." He runs a hand through his hair, wiping away the sweat on his forehead.

"You keeping score?" you smile a little.

"I am now," he says, and shakes his head. "I thought you were gonna punch me when I confessed."

"That was my first instinct," you tell him.

"Well. Me and my penis are sure glad you went with your first." You get up and shove him, and he sets off laughing. "Fuck," he exhales, looking at the time, "I'll see you tomorrow at base."

"Uh huh," you simply mutter back.

"And tomorrow night."

"Debateable," you huff.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow night," he says, and takes one last sip of his drink, licking his lips. "Damn good tea. You gonna have some more of that? You know, tomorrow night? When I see you again?"

"Sleep tight Graver," you roll your eyes, ushering him out the door. With a playful little wave, he's gone, and you're left to contemplate your job, your love life, your sex life, and whether or not you actually want to contemplate those things.

Fuck it. Matt's sexy, in every sense of the word. You could die any day, any hour right now. This is definitely what you need-- and he knows it.

------

Tag List: (ask to be added!) @kitcatimpala67 @crailb @the-undateable @booklover2929 @messoria109 @mass-moriarty-effect89 @fabulouskilljoyonpatrol @hauntedshepherdsharkpainter @hotintopeka @bananzaa @neganrpblog @lostdarksoul6 @gallifreyangrandtorino @der-weisse-teufel

[bisexual-disasters]

christmas oneshot

hey guys!! i was wondering if i could have your opinion on this christmas oneshot? im not sure if it’s good enough to post. i also need help for a saying to put on Karen’s sweater (it’ll make sense when you read the story) if you have any suggestions!

-fuckingparty

-

Grace flattened out her dress as she looked in the mirror, turning slightly to see how the back looked. Her red curls stood out against the dark green of the dress, which was shorter and tighter than she would typically wear. Being forty… one- she tried to wear more “age-appropriate” clothes, but she knew that the person she was trying to impress tonight would prefer the garment that flattered her curves much better. Or at least Grace thought. What she thinks looks good is typically the opposite of what she finds fashionable, but Grace hoped she got it right this time.

“Grace, what are you doing?” A voice says, prompting the redhead to turn from the mirror to meet the eyes of Will. He wore a red, knitted turtle neck sweater that made him look even more like a dork than usual. “We’re just having a small get-together, you look like a- a-“

“A whore? It’s 2018, don’t slut shame me. And what? A girl can’t dress up for her friends?” Grace responds, walking past him to the kitchen.

“Your friends are two gay men and a woman who’s going to be too high to remember what happens tonight.” Will remarks, following Grace.

“Sorry that I put effort into my outfits when people come over.” She replies, annoyed, grabbing the large bottle of Cabernet from the wine cooler.

“Last time Jack came over to watch Riverdale with you, you wore a stained sweatshirt and no pants.” He states, grabbing wine glasses from the cupboard.

“That was different, I was on my period.” She responds defensively. “Why do you even care?”

Will grins. “Because Jack is going to be devastated that you aren’t wearing the Christmas sweater he bought you.”

Grace narrows her eyes at him, only now noticing that his turtle neck has “Ho-Ho-Homo” in large white letters knitted into it “I am not wearing a sweater that says ‘Happy Hoe-nukah’.”

Will pours himself a glass of wine. “When did you become such a stick in the mud?”

Before she can respond, Jack enters the apartment with a loud “Happy Holigays!” He smiles brightly at the two of them, proudly sporting a “Fruitcake” knitted sweater. His expression quickly turns to a frown when he notices Grace. “What happened to your Chri- Hanukah sweater?” He pouts, placing his hands on his hips. “You look like one of Santa’s prostitutes.”

Grace rolls her eyes. “I thought I would dress up a little.” She leans against the counter, trying to pose.

“It’s a Christmas miracle.” He deadpans. “The one time you don’t have to look good you actually put effort in your outfit.” He flops onto the couch, crossing his legs. “Even if that effort is in vain.” He mutters.

Grace sighs in frustration. “Do you think Karen will be wearing her Christmas sweater? That woman hasn’t touched anything that wasn’t designer since I’ve met her.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “She’s gonna! She promised she would. And even if she didn’t, what’s your excuse? Is my Christmas sweater less tacky than anything you’ve worn in the last, I don’t know, twenty years?”

Will sits down on the couch next to Jack, stifling a laugh. “Grace, are you trying to impress Karen?” He asks through a smirk.

“No!” Grace’s denies, her face growing red from the comment. “I’ll put on the stupid sweater, you assholes.” She yells, walking towards her room to change. She can hear Jack say something about her being a lesbo but ignores it. The redhead struggles to unzip the short dress, turning her back to the mirror and trying to sneak a glance at where to reach. After a few minutes of struggle and a strained back, she unzips the dress and lets it fall to her feet, kicking it to the side. She rummages through her closet for some pants to wear, finding a pair of black jeans that were at least a little flattering. She then throws the ridiculous sweater over her head.

“Honey? Are you in there?” The familiar high-pitched voice makes Grace turn her head towards her closed door.

“One second!” She calls out, flattening the sweater, attempting to make herself look as attractive as she can in the stupid outfit. Thinking she looks presentable, she walks to the door and opens, meeting the judgemental eyes of Karen, though panning down the redhead sees that she kept her promise. The smaller woman wore a knitted sweater just like hers with the words “placeholder” on it. “Nice sweater.” Was all Grace could think to say.

Karen grabs at the fabric of Grace’s own sweater. “I’d say the same for you but I’m not Jewish.”

Grace can’t help but crack a smile, noticing that Karen does the same. The two had been playfully flirting ever since they met, but it’s been getting far more serious as of late. Grace knows that she shouldn’t give into these desires, considering that Karen is a married woman, but the brunette really doesn’t help by constantly seeing just how far she can go.

“Jack said you’ve been in here for twenty minutes, are you done rubbing one out?” Karen says with a smirk.

Grace blushes and looks away. “No! I was just changing. Believe it or not this wasn’t my first choice for an outfit.”

The two walk out of Grace’s room, the redhead can feel Karen’s hand brush against hers and her smile grows.

“Woah you two! Stop right there!” Jack exclaims dramatically.

“What?” Karen asks, slightly annoyed. “If I don’t have a drink in my hand in the next two seconds I’m going to be charged with a hate crime.”

Jack jumps over the back of the couch, tripping over himself. “Look up.” He says with a knowing grin on his face.

From the ceiling hung a small bundle of fake mistletoe, secured awkwardly with Scotch tape. Grace couldn’t help but laugh. “Jack, did you seriously put that up when I was changing?”

Jack looks away innocently, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Who me?”

“Very funny, but we’re not gonna-“Grace is cut off as she feels her sweater being pulled towards her left, her lips crashing into Karen’s. Her eyes widen, but quickly close as she lets herself forget her surroundings and melt into the kiss, tasting the alcohol on Karen’s soft lips. She doesn’t know how long it lasts, and she doesn’t really care, either. She knows that this may be one of her only chances to give into her desires with Karen, and she will most certainly take it, no matter the teasing that she will inevitably get from the boys. The two disconnect, both trying to catch their breath, and she realizes that it must have been quite long for her to be so breathless. She looks down at Karen who gives her a quick wink before turning and walking down towards the kitchen.

“Sorry honey, but the faster we got that over with the faster I’d have a drink in my hand.” She pours herself a glass of Cabernet.

Grace, snapping out of her shock, looks over at the boys, who look equally as surprised as she is.

“Well, you’re welcome, Grace.” Jack says, satisfied.

“What? Why?” Grace asks, her face still flushed.

“My tacky Christmas sweater impressed Karen enough to get you the most action you’ve had in months.” He says, sitting back down on the couch. “You know that wouldn’t have happened if you decided to wear that dress.”

“What dress, honey?” Karen asks, joining the two boys in the living area.

“Green, short, adds thirty years.” Jack responds.

“Hm.” Karen says, sipping her wine. “Yeah, sorry Gracie but no way you would have gotten that with that mess on.”

The night goes on, the four drinking and chatting, enjoying each other’s company. Eventually they decided to watch a Halmark Christmas film and make fun of it, though Will fell asleep in the process, being a lightweight. Jack followed thereafter, leaning against the other man as he snored loudly. Grace and Karen were so enthralled in their own conversation that the hardly noticed the others had fallen asleep, only noticing when Jack snored particularly loud.

“Pussies.” Karen states, downing the last of her drink. “You’d never catch me passed out after a night of drinking.”

Grace raises an eyebrow. “I can think of multiple occasions.”

“I guess I should go, then.” Karen says, lifting from the couch, ignoring Grace’s comment.

Grace instantly feels the absence of warmth when the other woman leaves her side, only realizing now that they were sitting so close. “Why not stay the night?” Grace said before she understood the implication.

Karen pursed her lips. “Really, Grace? You’re trying to get in my pants on Christmas Eve? I know you Jews don’t celebrate it, but this is the lord’s day!”

Grace rolls her eyes. “Come on, Kare. It’s 2am.”

Karen noticeably softens, walking back over to Grace, grazing her fingers on her hips. “I’m kidding, Honey. I’ll stay.” She leans in slowly, closing her eyes, until their lips touch once again. The kiss was so different than the one before, soft and passionate, no rush. It felt like they could stay like this forever and Grace would be a happy woman. It felt too genuine to be a product of Karen’s pill-popping or drunkenness, it held too much intent, like this was the one thing the brunette is sure is right. This had to be right. Nothing could feel this good and be wrong.

They break away from the kiss just as slow as it began. “Merry Christmas, Gracie.”

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

More of the Misadventures of Aish rereading Misadventures and fixing typos, like a cowardly fool because I can’t sleep

chapters 21-25 oh no here we go

(actually I did this in like November on my phone but only just now remembered that I never posted it so here ya go, this is all weeks old)

Okay so with the chapter titles, I didn’t actually start naming them until about ch27 or so, but I had already nicknamed this chapter something like “IT’S FRIENDSHIP YOU COWARDS” bc this one got a surprising amount of notes on tumblr and I’m 99% sure most of the people who read it did not realize that this is in fact a Kimax fic

And also THIS CHAPTER WAS THE TURNING POINT. I could either have kept the fic rly lighthearted until way near the end, or decide to start shoving in the Angst much quicker. 3 guesses what I picked >:D

Oh highkey same Alix?? except for me it’s not superpowers or anything it’s just called “anxiety disorder”

The obliviousness physically pains me

I’m the guard who just blatantly lets Alix steal popcorn. also why was there just casually popcorn there. god I don’t even know what I was thinking when I wrote any of this

Oh yeah I remember!! I was mad at people setting off the smoke alarm while making popcorn in the middle of the night!! just uni things am I right

...why am I noticing now that the whole popcorn thing is just a metaphor for Kim’s entire love life I am going to throw this fic out of the window I swear

IT REALLY IS, UGH I HATE THIS, ARE YOU TELLING ME I DID THAT BY ACCIDENT

this is a freaking game of Civilization where one civ takes a runaway lead in the science victory while the rest are all still stuck in the industrial era

Kim is me watching dinosaur movies too tbh, dinosaurs are so frickin rad

well this is depressing

and adorable

I hate so much that I know what the Bad Dream means I hate it I hate it I h

IT’S OKAY KIM I’M PROUD OF YOU, YOU’RE MY SON AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

“It’s not up to you to question why people care about you so just roll with it” damn past me, that’s actually some really good advice???

Alix is a Kimax shipper even this early in the fic, btw. whenever she talks to them about each other she’ll always say stuff like “oh yeah you two are so close” or “he cares about you so much” without specifying whether she means that platonically... my dudes... she’s shipping it

Kim having an existential crisis in early hours of the morning is such a mood because it’s 2am and I’m having one right now

BAD FORESHADOWING, YES BAD THINGS ARE GOING TO START HAPPENING SOON LIKE ASSASSINATIONS AND STUFF, YOU WEREN’T WRONG

Alright chapter 22 now

the carriage guards!! my favourite characters in the entire fic!!!!!! they’re the BEST okay they just casually chill at school through the entire thing and only show up again in the last chapter omg they’re so amazing I love them??? absolute LEDGES

Kim’s parents being all like “yeah if our son doesn’t wanna come home from school then just KIDNAP HIM and bring him back lmao”

“Hey, do you want me to threaten your guards with my snake or something?” WAS THAT FORESHADOWING??? BECAUSE SHE VERY MUCH DOES DO THAT LATER. TO DIFFERENT GUARDS YES BUT IT’S LEGIT A THING SHE DOES

talking on the phone is stressful? yes it’s that good old “anxiety disorder” again, really a pain tbh

god I’m so proud of Kim, already that good good character development

also Kim’s grandma is me

omg I have to put Kim and Alix’s dumb chess games in the sequel, I came up with an entire thing about how they blatantly cheat etc and it’s ridiculous and Max gets a headache whenever he has to “referee” (aka make sure they don’t fight), it’s so great okay

me: *thinks about chapter 34 and throws up*

oh I’m the snake too btw. the snake also will hate chapter 34

Max holy moly repressing your feelings isn’t healthy??? stop that

hhhhhhh chapter Lila now, like literally that’s the entire chapter 23, it’s basically just Lila

this is just the damn Volpina episode

dupainchien!!!!! dupainchien!!!!!!!!!

I know this isn’t even that much of a big deal in this fic but like... can Marinette and Adrien just get together already lmao

hskdjhdkjfhgs for the record Lila and Kim is actually a pretty good ship?? but they’d both try to out-brag each other and it would be ridiculous so uh

hm anyways. time for CHAPTER AROACE

Kim’s like. ABOUT TO start falling for Max oh thank god, I need this

Lila: *just stabs Kim’s homework with a parasol*

Kim just... Did That??? WE STAN

(oh and later note: in this he just treats Lila like how Adrien treated her in Chameleon lol)

I remember at this point I wasn’t sure if Lila would actually really return in the fic, and then literally like 2 chapters later I brought her back already because damn that girl needs a redemption arc

do I hug Kim or do I hug Max?? you FOOLS, you ABSOLUTE BUFFOONS, I am going to hug ALIX for having to deal with all their romo bullshit

Max trying to get drunk on orange juice is the mood

JULEKA’S MAGICAL GAYDAR!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!

(also Juleka is absolutely wearing a Reflekta dress)

Juleka, outright: “Max. my dude. alix is aroace you dense idiot. you are all idiots. you absolute fuckwits.”

I’m still the snake btw

hhhhhhhhhh I wanna make a daisy chain now, or just go outside and sprawl in some grass, I can’t because it’s 2.30am and I live in the city and it’s winter, screw this fic for making me miss my school days

oh no I’m having an allergic reaction again

I mEAN IT’S CUTE THO, IT’S CUTE, BUT I KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN A BIT LATER SO THIS IS JUST PAINFUL

“You need more sleep” me calling myself out

I am going to hit Kim over the head,,

STOP BEING WEIRD JUST TELL HER YOU LIKE HER?? GOOD GOD I DON’T EVEN SHIP IT AND I STILL WANT YOU TO GET A BLOODY MOVE ON

oh good, he wants to smack himself in the face too

no nonono no Alix I think you are cute too. but you see, I mean it in the adopting way. but you ARE objectively adorable (source: the Reverser episode and also like all the other episodes) people just don’t say it in this au because of your TERRIFYING PET SNAKE

she offered to give him a telephone... lov that foreshadowing

*unimpressed* “are you in love with me?” OH FUCKING FINALLY

skdfhskdjfhsd avoiding people and having a heart attack when someone knocks on your door? I see the return of that anxiety disorder eh

Alix didn’t bring the snake (me) with her on purpose bc she knows Kim is still a bit scared of it at this point and doesn’t want him to be in a bad mood while she’s crushing his heart and soul

GOD YES I LOVE THIS SCENE

I hate myself because when I was writing this I was thinking “oh mood?? oh mood worm same hat???” and yet still. didn’t. realize. I’m. aro. *le sigh*

I’m gonna cry this is so sweet

“So are bossy, intimidating, hot girls your type?” no actually because Ondine is neither bossy nor intimidating (tho yeah she is hot) (and not particularly relevant in this fic unfortunately)

Alix is not in fact as oblivious as she claims to be btw, she just thinks it would sound mean to say “oh yeah I guessed you had a thing for me but I aggressively ignored it bc it annoyed me since I’m aroace lmao”

I’m genuinely going to hecking cry omg I remember now why this was my Ultimate Brotp for so long ugh it’s so good, @ ZAG LET KIM AND ALIX BE FRIENDS

I’m laughing?? so hard??? at the fact that their height difference is so ridiculous that literally like he has to kneel down??? god this is the funniest thing

oh also btw she was internally debating with herself like “should I give him the mistletoe kiss?? sounds gross but I feel so bad for him dammit” and decided to right there on the spot because she was lowkey curious anyway, which I’ll be honest is still an aro mood

OMG I’M ACCIDENTALLY SUCH A GENIUS OMG LISTEN NO LEMME EXPLAIN

SO LIKE. there are two (2) instances in this fic where I tried to pretend to be funny by dropping in the word “heartrate”. one is near the beginning, and the other is right here

in other words, the exact start and end points of Kim’s crush on Alix?? AND I DID THAT BY ACCIDENT OMG I’VE CHANGED MY MIND I’M PROUD OF MYSELF NOW

oh... oh no. uh oh. the dreaded evil Chapter Twenty Hecking Five

it’s called “Pain” for a reason. also my OG nickname for it was “Death”. also for a reason.

I even listened to Death Valley (the FOB song) on repeat while writing it (along with the next like 9 chapters lol) because the word DEATH just seemed so accurate

no really this is THE real turning point in the fic, where it stops being just a dumb teen movie and starts being all A N G S T Y

like this is the first chapter that has NO lightheartedness AT ALL

okay. here we go

this is all??? foreshadowing??? for dumb chapters like 30 and 34??? I Hate

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO THE SNAKE

I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK JUST READING THESE WORDS THIS IS SO HORRIFYING ALEXA PLAY DEATH VALLEY

this is the equivalent of seeing a kwami die, for the record. like I know kwamis can’t die but THIS IS HOW IT WOULD FEEL

god this is even worse in hindsight knowing what happens later, bc poor Alix is all like @ herself “oh well it’s a nightmare so it’s not real” and I’m just like... oh dear. honey. sweetie. welp. I mean on the bright side you’re psychic so that’s kinda cool right

I love how Jalil is actually really sweet and a genuinely cool brother, you just never get to see it when Kim’s around bc he hates Kim lmao (I mean for good reasons..)

“I can’t live without this snake!” I MEAN YOU’RE NOT WRONG

these timeline powers are SO cursed man. why was I so evil and cruel holy actual shit

(the whole “some character deaths but not really” tag refers to all this clusterfuck btw)

okay it’s funny how this bit with Adrien is the Collector episode despite it not having aired yet when I wrote this, I guess I’m psychic too

Nathalie being sympathetic huh? not so much in the sequel when I get round to it...

Adrikins being all “I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER” I’m dying

uh yeah there’s a difference between being grounded, and like, literal actual house arrest

damn... capitalism really is bad

so is imperialism

fix this damn typo thing where I used the word “soon” twice in one sentence like was that really necessary

DUPAINCHIEN

I love how Kim is so obviously bi that even Marinette notices and straight-up tries to set him up with a hot commoner boy

oh noes here comes The Death

Hi Aish Snekwami, I am afraid

god imagine how horrible it must be??? to have something traumatic happen in another timeline but you’re still aware of it in this one so you still suffer the effects even though nothing bad happened in this timeline????

Max shows up for two seconds this chapter to remind everyone that I have an anxiety disorder again and then hecks off, good for him

HOLY FUCK?!?!?! IMAGINE LITERALLY DYING ACTUAL DEATH IN ANOTHER TIMELINE AND EVEN THOUGH YOU SURVIVE IN THIS ONE YOU STILL HAVE TO LIKE. FEEL THE WHOLE TIME YOU’RE DYING OF GODDAMN COBRA VENOM HOLY FUCK WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO ANGSTY

I mean I think I remember writing this when I was on a very heavy painful period which full-on incapacitated me but like even that’s nowhere near as bad as fucking. snake. bite (ye I did some research, it was creepy...)

man this is so evil... I can’t

THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO DIE

god that’s so haunting ughhhhhhhhh

honestly whenever I stub my toe etc I always think to myself “is this karma for that time I lowkey killed Alix off in chapter 25?” and yeah, it probably is

OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH FOR NOW