#i love me some angst with fluff

[georgette-mademoiselle]

Georgette dying onto sekidos arms but in disney classic sekido brings her back to life with his kiss of electricity the moment she awakens and says his name he clutches onto her not wanting to let go

Hes very prideful of his power but after this incident he sees it as a true miracle to wield such element.

[vivipoery]

Just like her.

including: angst. teeth rotting fluff with mentions of insecurities. fem!reader. soft spoken!blade. mentions of kafka.

a/n: this is my first semi serious work but i was feeling the angst and needed to write abt it. anyw hope u like it and feel free to share ur thoughts w me id appreciate it lots!!!!

Blade is a very cold person.

You knew this the moment you met yet that didn't stop your crush on him to stop blooming. You always stuck by his side despite the hardships.

Someone else has also stuck by his side, never leaving him alone to your dismay.

Kafka. The beautiful stellaron hunter and Blade's favorite colleague.

"Let's go, Bladie" She would whisper to him with a honeyed tone and he would comply quietly.

You, on the other hand, was threatened once you accidently let a "Bladie" slip from your lips and it hurt.

That only fueled the comparisons between yourself and Kafka. She was a mature and mysterious woman with an alluring aura. You were just a pawn in Elio's script, a silly girl with her heart on her sleeve.

Thoughts of her and Blade clouded your mind, she had everything you didn't have and it made your heart burn with jealousy. Oh how you wished you were Kafka.

"Are you listening to me?" Blade's sharp tone cut through your foggy mind forcing your attention back on him.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"You need to go fetch some supplies for Elio."

"Alright" your gaze fell to the ground, suppressing back a sigh.

"I'm driving" He stated. Another question hung heavy on your tongue yet you were afraid of saying it out loud.

Afraid of appearing weak and insecure.

"Let's go" He rushed you, making your thoughts die down as you followed him to his car without another word.

After gracefully getting into his car, you waited to see if someone else was joining you but to your surprise it was just you and Blade.

"Is Kafka not joining us this time?"

"Hm?"

You bit your lip anxiously, the metallic taste of blood seeping into your mouth.

"Never mind." You mumbled as the car engine roared to life. Blade snickered and started driving.

You leaned your weight against the door, the side of your head resting against the window as you looked out into the beautiful night sky.

Your thoughts started drifiting back to Kafka. She was never really mean to you, she helped you settle in when Elio found you.

She was never really the evil woman they made her out to be, she was kind to you. The guilt of having such negative thoughts about her was suffocating you, your heart felt stuck in your throat.

"What got you so quiet today?" Blade's voice pulling out of your thoughts once again.

"Nothing"

"You're usually so loud."

"I'm sorry" You said with a weak voice.

"What are you apologizing for?" he stopped at a red light giving him a good opportunity to turn and look at you, crimson orbs boring into your figure and you can feel the burn of his stare.

"A few things" Turning around to face him with glassy eyes, trying your best to hold back your tears.

"Care to give an example?"

"I'm sorry for liking you." He would say he's surprised but he saw the fond gazes directed at him, the sweet smiles and your blushing cheeks. He wasn't a dumbass.

Blade remained quiet.

"I'm sorry I could never be like her."

"Who are you talking about?" He asked, his usual sharp tone becoming a little softer.

You almost choked on your words. You were not brave enough to say her name to him, to show him the insecure side of you.

Shaking your head, you giggled softly and wiped your tears.

"Forget it."

The stellaron hunter remained quiet the entire ride, his eyes focused on the road and you went back to looking out the window as if nothing happened.

You arrived at your destination shortly after but before you could think about getting out of the car Blade's warm hands gripped your wrists.

Looking up at him with confusion, you tilted your head.

"Tell me." He spoke so softly to you, your heart rate picking up.

"Tell you what?" Your voice barely above a whisper, he got closer to you.

"Who's bothering you"

"N-No one really, I was being silly." Your heart was racing, you can feel the warmth radiating off his body from how close he got to you.

"Don't lie to me." Your eyes dropping to look at your shoes.

"Look at me" He added, his hands moving to your cheeks forcing you to look at him.

You felt as if your heart was about to burst from your chest.

"You" The word slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

"Me?" His grip tightened and you couldn't stop yourself anymore.

"Stupid boy, making me so sad. Why do you have to treat her differently? Why are my feelings not enough for you? I could never compete with her and you know this."

Your words came straight from your heart and they were soon followed by salty tears, soaking your cheeks and his hands.

Blade was at a loss for words. He really didn't know what to say or how to comfort you.

"She gets to call you Bladie, hold your hands and play with your hair whenever she pleases. She is the perfect one for you. Why can't I be her?"

He knew who you were talking about. No one else calls him Bladie but Kafka.

You wanted to push him away, yell at him and call him out even more but you were taken aback when Blade leaned in and placed a soft kiss against your lips.

At first you were a little stiff, taken aback but then you leaned into his touch and kissing him back.

He broke off the kiss, his crimson eyes once again holding your gaze.

"Tsk. Silly girl."

"Blade-"

"Listen to me. Why are you comparing yourself to her?"

"Because of the way you treat me and her." You said with a shaky voice.

"Does she help me after mission? Does she take care of my wounds and bandages? Does she get to comb and braid my hair out of boredom? Does she get to hold my hand out in missions?"

You were left speechless.

"You are the warmth I constantly seek. You are my anchor" The way he kept speaking softly to you made you tear up once again.

"I'm sorry" He leaned towards you, resting his forehead against your own.

"I like you too" You gasped.

"Blade-" Your hands coming up to rest against his own who were still cupping your cheeks warmly.

"Will you be mine?"

"Yes. Always has been"

© banner by cafekitsune

[caelanglang]

dear diary… one day I met the little prince…

but just as the storybook said… we got separated… all I know is that somewhere out there… we see the same stars…

ps. they found each other again...

[elsecrytt]

so i had a thought.

what if 236 is actually jujutsu tech propaganda?

mei mei is broadcasting this entire thing, right? what better way to protect gojo from bounty hunters etc., than convince the entire world that he's already dead?

the final battle happened offscreen, with significantly less fanfare. gojo rescued megumi, defeated sukuna. the day was saved.

at a cost.

gojo gave up everything - at least, everything he valued. the six eyes, his abilities as a sorcerer. he assumed that would make him a normal man, and he was right -

what he didn't realize was that it would also make him blind.

so now... you live in a nice apartment complex. a guy moves in next to you.

you can't help but notice he happens to be blind - at least, he's wearing a blindfold, uses a cane, but he's often swearing and stumbling through his porch, over his entryway. he is very, very blind.

you, wondering what the fuck up is with your obviously blind neighbor who seems to have no sense of self-preservation.

he walks into objects all the time, especially hitting his head on things, since he's so tall. forgets his cane when going out. the dude just left his door open the other day, like, WIDE OPEN, who DOES that?

helping gojo learn, not only how to be human, but how to be disabled. how to not be disgusted with being disabled.

gojo learning that being blind isn't the end of his life, nor the end of his happiness - life is still worth living, even without one of his senses.

helping gojo mourn his lost sense while still finding things to enjoy. gojo who learns to cook by taste, by feeling heat or texture, with your help. gojo learning to organize things so he always knows where they are from memory.

bringing gojo audiobook versions of your favorite stories even if he teases you for your taste. he listens to them when he has nothing to do, which is most of the time, now.

he goes out on walks all the time because he doesn't have a job, you learn. while it's nice to not have to work, you can tell he comes from money, his life comes with a gaping hole inside it, one that isn't entirely explained by the blindness.

gojo who's overstimulated all the time because he no longer has infinity as a barrier, but somehow also as touch-starved as ever, alone in a foreign country away from all his students and colleagues.

gojo, who has only ever done Big Things with his life, who has only ever been an Important Person doing world changing things, now, just an ordinary guy.

he barely cares what happens to himself now. it's not that he wants to die, or anything. it's just that he doesn't have a reason to live.

and that wouldn't change overnight. not with cooking lessons or audiobooks or friendly greetings whenever you see him by the door. not with smiles or waves (he can't see them) or a braille rubik's cube you find online (how did he solve it in under a minute??) or karaoke (he has an AMAZING singing voice, and he knows so many songs better than you do?).

it wouldn't change overnight, because nothing worthwhile forms in a day, or two, or even a week or a month.

but gojo's life doesn't have to be amazing a day after he's gone blind. or a week. or a month. it's okay if it's difficult, he learns, it's okay if he hates it, hates himself, hates every choice that brought him here, even if he would never take it back.

it's okay. it gets better. with you there? it's getting better.

[gt-daboss]

Nightmares (8)

"Dammit"

First | Previous | Next

PS: secret poll under readmore!!

[haezen]

how he apologizes 

suna, makki

haikyuu!!  genre: hurt/comfort

a/n: they’re so silly and i’m in love with them (heheehehahaha) if you guys like this, show it some love.  (i love seeing you guys reblog with # ! i read them and they make my day!)  maybe i’ll do sakusa and atsumu next :>

dedicated to my lovely best friend @nami66m !

HOW SAKUSA APOLOGIZES

masterlist

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

SUNA

Rintarou is unbearably stubborn. 

He says things that he doesn’t mean and his words are venomous. When the two of you got into a fight over something that didn’t even really matter, you are shocked when he spits your biggest insecurity back in your face. He will never forget the pained expression that washed over your features and almost instantly, he regretted ever saying it in the first place. 

You held your head up high, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat and the tears threatening to spill, before heading out of your shared home. He could tell that you were heartbroken to hear something you told him in confidence thrown back in your face. He knew that he fucked up, but yet he stood there unmoving like a statue, too afraid to move a muscle or utter a word. As he watched you storm out, he told himself that he never wants to see you leave out that door, running away from him again.

He stood in that same spot for a while, frozen. Why did he say those things? What were you even fighting about in the first place? How can he fix this?

He doesn’t know what to do. Before, all he did was run from his problems and avoid people he wronged like the plague. He’d ignored their texts and calls. He’d act like he wasn’t home when they’d knock on his door, begging for an explanation on why he went ghost. He’d even act like he didn’t know them when seeing them in public. 

Rintarou doesn’t know how to admit he’s wrong because he believes that if he admits it, then you’ll find somebody better. You deserve somebody who wouldn’t hurt you in the first place: someone who acknowledges their faults and overcomes them with humility. And he has never done that — he doesn’t know how to. 

So as he sits on the couch with his head in his hands and unbecoming tears streaming down his face, he decides that he needs to drive to the only person he can trust to ask for advice: Osamu.

You finally come home at midnight. Your cheeks and nose are red and he instantly realizes you’ve been walking out in the cold. 

But when you open the door, you’re greeted by the warmth of the fireplace, candles lit everywhere you look, and Rintarou standing right in the kitchen like he’d been waiting there for hours. He offers you an uneasy smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. He smiles like he’s unsure of what to say or what your reaction will be. 

Deep down, he wants to run and hide like he usually would. He’s afraid that you will leave him first because you’ve seen how ugly he can be.

He gestures to the kitchen island, and you see he’s made you your favorite food. It’s not perfect and the display looks awful, but the hopeful look in his eyes is begging for your acceptance and validation. You know he’s never done anything like this before. 

The gesture makes you want to cry all over again, but you’re hesitant to forgive him so easily. When he’s met with silence, he continues.

“I made it all myself.” He explains, “But...I had to ask Osamu for help because I didn’t know where to start.” He admits, voice a little lower than before.

You step into the kitchen to take it all in  — the kitchen is a mess, the sink full of dishes and it looks like he spilled something all over the stove. But you know he’s trying, in his own stupid way, to make it up to you.

He approaches you carefully, scared that you’ll storm out again. To his surprise, you await his embrace. He wraps his arms around you while you hesitantly wrap yours around him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers for the first time, “I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You think he might be crying.

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

MAKKI

He hates to think that he could’ve done something wrong in the first place. 

Because it was only a joke.

You had invited your family over for dinner. While all of you are having a good time and getting along for once, Makki decides to make a joke in an attempt to make your family like him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the time or the place for this particular joke —   it’s inappropriate and borderline offensive, especially to you.  You, most out of everyone, are appalled and shocked that he’d even bring something like that up. It makes everyone stiff and the aura is suddenly uncomfortable; the air is stuffy and no one knows what to say in response. You excused yourself from the table, dragging Makki outside to the balcony by his ear. He groaned in complaint and once you left the table, everyone shared knowing looks. By the time the both of you returned inside, everyone had already finished their food and was ready to leave, eager to leave the tense atmosphere. You were beyond embarrassed and disappointed that the night had gone awry.

You pointedly ignored him for the rest of the night because you decided that you were too upset to fight. You cleaned up by yourself despite Makki’s protests to let him help you. You shouldered him off and he didn’t know what to do. He was starting to get frustrated, but he knew not to say anything in retort. 

Unfortunately, like most men, Makki has his pride. But, he realizes that he would much rather admit he’d done something to upset you rather than sit, brood, and refuse to apologize. Of course, since it is Makki, he has to put a fun and exciting twist to it.

He’ll usually give you your space for a few hours, acting like he is oblivious to the silent treatment you always give him when you’re upset. He looks past all the harsh glares you throw his way and he ignores the scoffs you make when he walks past you in your shared apartment. He even gives you a flippant, ‘bye!’ when you leave to get some fresh air because the tension is so thick that the both of you feel like you’re going to suffocate.

While you’re gone, he scrambles to get things ready as he prepares to build a blanket fort for the both of you. It might be childish, but the two of you have never been afraid to indulge in ‘kiddie’ activities. And he knows how much you love to watch movies together. He even makes the quickest trip to the convenience store in his life – rushing to get you your favorite snacks and drink. 

He barely makes it home before you return. He's putting the final touches when he hears you unlocking the door.

 As he whips around, you walk in and your eyes go wide.

“What’s this?” You question, eyeing his guilty expression. 

“I’m sorry.”  Is all he says.

You scoff for probably the hundredth time today. As you unlace your shoes and shrug your coat off your shoulders, you hear him messing around with the television. Your heart is racing as you try to decide if you’re still upset at him. 

“Do you know how uncomfortable you made everyone? You’re so–” 

“I shouldn’t have made such a stupid joke.”

“You think?” 

You fail to realize that your boyfriend has closed the distance between you two. He sweeps you off your feet, strong arms picking you up to hold you bridal style. 

“Hey!” You scream.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs with a soft smile, before he playfully throws you inside the fort, your back hitting an array of pillows. You squeal in response and he is quick to follow you inside. You look around and he’s put a lot of effort in – he even used the bar stools so that you’d have more room. He sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you to his side. 

“Please forgive me.” He whispers into your ear, kissing all over your face and neck as you protest. 

“‘Hiro!” You laugh, trying to fight him off but it’s fruitless. You enjoy his proximity and even, you recognize the fact that he’s doing his best to cheer you up.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles up from your throat as he restlessly starts attacking you with his affection.

 Then, you forget why you were even mad in the first place.

[yellowheartz]

Not hating on Kuboyasu Aren, like don't get me wrong, that's gang and I love him.

But I think that if he did achieve his dream of being able to marry a lady and have a family, there would be a lot of loopholes in his relationships.

Like, yes, he's a very respectful dude and he'd probs treat the woman like the only girl in the world but let's say they had a fight, right?

Dude wouldn't know the first thing to do, 50 outta 50, he'll apologize because "that's what a man should do" but what if he felt wronged as well? Either way, whether he apologizes or not, there would be a little toxicity at least, surrounding his relationship with his lady, like please do yall get me? 😭

Istg, I'm not hating, he's literally my fave character, but if he really ended up with a normal girl and lived a normal life, there'd surely be problems, most likely if he had a daughter.

[peterstrk]

“When will you stop calling me Mr. Stark?”

“I don’t know… never? It is your name, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, I know it, but Pete, you know you can call me Tony, right? Or anything you want, for that matter. You have my permission, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Sweetheart, I like it! Anything I want, huh, Dr. Stark?”

“Ugh… I brought that on myself, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. However, I have a question to ask you.”

“Sure, ask away.”

“Um, I know it sounds silly, but I can’t help but feel like you’ve lived all these moments with others too. And no, I don’t judge you or anything, but it’s just… everyone you’ve ever been with has had the privilege to call you by your name and just… ugh, what I’m trying to say is, I love you, Mr. Stark, I truly do. But I want to come up with something that would be only mine! And I’m rambling again, I’m sorry… Anyway, my question is, can you wait for me to do that, please?”

“Oh, Pete, I didn’t know you felt this way. I’m so sorry you’ve gone through so much distress because of it. But Pete, sweetheart, the love of my life, never, you hear me, never question yourself around me, okay? I can’t change my past actions, but I don’t even remember their names, honey. You are the one for me… all I can think about all day is you and just how much I love you.”

“It’s always Peter,” Tony whispered, looking deep into Peter’s eyes and leaving faint kisses across his face. Peter’s bright, relieved smile reassured Tony that everything would be alright.

“Thank you…I think I came up with something for just us. What do you think of Anthony?” Peter said teasingly, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. Tony’s eyes lit up with amusement. He was all too eager to hear his boyfriend call him that.

“I love it, Peter. Anything you want, sweetheart, anything you want,” he replied with a hint of amusement. If anyone who knew him saw him now, they could easily tell how fond he was of the young pretty man standing before him.

[kii0mi]

Ok so, hear me out, what if Danny thinks he and clockwork have a mentor and mentee relationship, almost like a family dynamic even. He gets to sleep on a couch on clockworks tower, hang around, and clockwork might sometimes even help him.

He’s happy, it’s everything he didn’t have with the Fentons, but, what if, clockwork only did it to avoid a bad timeline? He didn’t actually care about Danny, could care less what happened to him as long as it didn’t affect the timeline, and Danny discovers it for the first time when clockwork is very willing, and not at all affected, to end his life if he doesn’t complete a certain task for a “better timeline”

It’s not even a definite will, it’s just a slight chance of the timeline going wrong, and then Danny truly sees how little their relationship means to clockwork. It all crumbles around him as he realizes that the only “healthy” relationship he thought he had was build on straight up lies, he grieves for the mentor he apparently never even had on the first place.

Danny finishes the mission, and as clockwork goes to Pat him in the head for a good job so similar to a dog, a loyal pet to just follow orders in exchange for the bare minimum of affection and care, Danny avoids his hand and just flies away, core empty, void of any meaningful relationship, alone

He stops visiting clockwork altogether, and clockwork doesn’t visit either, barely keeping an eye on the boy to make sure he doesn’t step out of line, and if they capture and experiment on the kid? It’s not his problem as long as the timeline turns out alright

[whatwooshkai]

18!!

Boulder taps the tips of their digits together. "I have a question."

"What do you need?" Blades asks. He's putting up a garland around the perimeter of the basement, something he's been working on for days now. There are tiny little hand made models of their alt modes, trees, rocks, and other oddities that Boulder can't identify, made out of yarn big enough to hand knit with.

They're cute, and quite nice. Really bring a homey air to the place. "I need a bit of code altered."

Blades' helm whips around so fast he nearly falls over. He searches Boulder's face, but apparently doesn't find what he's looking for, because his face sets in a panicked frown and his rotors start flicking erratically. "You can't be serious."

"I'm serious," Boulder says, clasping their hands behind their back. "You're our medic, so I assumed-"

"Boulder, I am a field medic at most," Blades stresses, and some of his loose garland starts to flutter from the breeze created by his rotors. "I have no credentials. Hell, the only reason I know as much as I do is because Heatwave gets hurt so often it's all trial and error! They would never let me into the Academy, you know, they'd probably ban me from ever practicing-"

"Blades," Boulder says gently, but Blades' talking only gets more frantic.

"But code? Boulder, I can barely understand my own code, you really want me poking around in your helm? What if I mess something up? I could completely fuck up your coding, and I couldn't live with myself if I did that, living with unfulfilled protocols is horrible I can't imagine living with something broken-"

"BLADES!" Boulder shouts, and the helicopter shuts up, but his rotors are still flapping.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"It's something I can do myself," Boulder starts carefully, holding their hands out placatingly. "I just need a spotter."

The flapping dies down a little. "A spotter?"

"Yes, a spotter." Boulder clasps their hands again, this time against their chest. "Just in case."

"Just in case," Blades parrots, hugging his arms around himself. "What exactly do you need done?"

Boulder chews on their lip. "I just..." they trail off, trying to figure out how to phrase this. The pressure of the air has been changing all day, the sky getting darker, little beads of condensation appearing on their frame- the telltale signs of an oncoming storm. Someone like Blades would be able to better detect the changes in the atmosphere with his sensitive rotors, but Boulder doesn't have anything like that. And well... "I want to quiet a fear response."

Blades' face changes immediately. "Oh, Boulder," he says. "You can't just shove that down, you have to-"

"That's not what I meant," Boulder gently interrupts. "It's a fear response that's useless to me now. And it's going to storm."

"Oh." Blades' field reaches out in understanding, and Boulder brushes it with reassurance from their own. "You're scared of thunder."

"Not thunder. I want to experience it."

"The noise."

"Yeah."

Blades sighs. "Alright. I'll spot."

They find themselves on the floor, sitting with their legs crossed, across from each other. Their wrist ports are open and Blades has unspooled the cable from next to his, handing it to Boulder to let them plug in.

They do without much fanfare, initiating handshake protocols, and then Boulder guides Blades to the corner of their processor where all their instincts from their past as a miner lay dormant.

Well. Dormant-ish.

Where is it? Blades' voice is nice, inside of Boulder's processor. Warm and buttery smooth, but still somehow with a nervous lilt. It's kind of cool, the way it bounces around.

Here. Boulder pulls up the protocol and with it a memory- a huge bang that rattles the cavern and sends dust and pebbles showering down over Boulder and their coworkers. They dive for their positions, curling into balls, preparing for the worst. The fear is bone deep. Blades' very presence shivers with it. I want to be outside.

I know.

Blades' presence seems to hold them steady as Boulder dips their hands into the code. It shifts like water beneath their digits, slippery as they grasp for the strands that connect to their emotional core. They pinch and tie the line with a few more lines- simple things they'd been practicing doing, just extra stimuli needed to activate the protocol itself, like falling rubble, and suppressing it when rain registered as sensory input.

Boulder sighs as they finish up, letting it slip back out of their hands. Blades' relief is palpable, and it washes comfortingly over Boulder, then nestles in their spark even as they disconnect from each other.

"That wasn't so bad," Blades hums, mostly a reassurance to himself.

"Not at all," Boulder agrees.

-----------------------

That night, Boulder faces the rain.

[pixlokita]

Fic: -and the literal dead character who can’t even eat or sleep or feel anything and is in eternal agony knew his friend had it worse than them, sure the friend was alive and depressed but being dead meant they weren’t suffering like their alive friend was who btw was also the reason they died slowly and painfully in the first place -

Dead character: -also feels guilty for blaming their friend for literally killing them even though they legit DIED because of them-

Me:

Me: no I’m sure the dead character has it worse.

[shinakazami1]

"Love is stored in (un)familiarity": Rhack snippet based on my TFTBL AU

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58404214

less than 2k words This is a snippet of a bigger AU, at the happiest moment of it :^) but before we get there, it will take quite a bit so, I thought I would post this already!

Rhys' bad tastes and Jack being a sweetheart,,,

===

"Heyyyyyy-- pumpkin?" "Yeah, Jack?" Rhys looked over the kitchen counter, trying to remove a stain from the unwanted Skag guest. "What's the question for the day?" "Oh, well I wanted to ask you what you want for dinner but, if you're so insistent - what's your favorite ice cream flavour?" 

Rhys stared down at the man. The last few 'daily questions' were a bit more stimulating. How he got the prosthetic, what it was like to be an Atlas CEO, had he kept the Jack AI, some heavy stuff in general. This felt like a trap, but one that was most welcome. 

"I don't like ice cream. I like frogurts way more." 

Jack stared back at him, waiting for him to continue. The man's face, frozen solid, was enough for Rhys to know something was up. This state was only a few seconds long but that was still more than wanted. The sudden drift to a salesman's smile was also not a sign of everything being okay.

"OK, if you have such a blast destroying your taste buds, tell me at least what knife you're using. I need to know if I should ever let you cook or not. I feel if you'd try to poison me, you'd actually make me healthier, knowing your-" "Chocolate dill pickle." 

Jack seemed frozen solid for longer than before. But something was... different. This exact scenario happened a few times before already but, every time, it left Rhys a bit on the edge. He could imagine the big hands wrapping around his trachea and snapping it if they wanted to. It felt like a matter of time, even if the man before him hadn't made such a gesture before. The eyes were the key difference. They weren't, like a moment ago, staring through a fog at the world surrounding them. The small shines and the relaxed brows didn't keep Rhys off his guards, but they did make him wait for something.

He didn't expect laughter. Not just any laughter - a whole fit. A maniac, full, from the chest, belly moving, spine bending laugh. Hands flying, from thighs to the forehead, to waving in the air, as the big, loud, manic laughter, continued. It caused Rhys to relax - Jack probably was imagining the taste and while he loved it, Jack probably hated even the mental image of it. Something, about watching this man laugh to such an extent, made the warmth spread in Rhys' chest. It was not perfect but, it was nice. It felt like they were used to this. And - to make that happen, Rhys decided to be more confident and say something more. 

"You can't judge a good frogurt just by some mediocre tastes! Why do you need a vanilla when you have Last Night Midnight? It was a limited edition taste that had ingredients making -" "You're not him!" 

Barely, through a dying laughter, Jack, with the help of a chair he was holding on, got those words out of his mouth. Scared, a bit disappointed, Rhys could only stare at the man as he still fought through the teary cackles. Jack, with his hard-working diaphragm, barely got any words out. 

"It's cus-oh, oh kiddo, oh my god - it's not him! My Rhysie - man! Ah, oh my - - loves some citrus-- Cheesy Lemon Zest--lord! Kiddo, oh God your taste is so shit - - Chocolate Flush the most!" 

Rhys let Jack slowly get out of the torturous laughing tone. The warmth was no longer making him flutter. It felt embarrassing, it felt sad and burning through everything he's done wrong till then. If not for him... 

"You're not him." Jack panted, sweat slowly dropping off his forehead. 

It was true. He was not him . 

And it made Rhys feel stupid for being so happy hearing that.

===

For the rest of the evening, Jack spent the time in the kitchen. The new policy of not sleeping together made Jack quite insomniac but, Rhys felt he shouldn't comment on that at all. It felt like a very important thing for him to do by himself. Still, Rhys couldn't stop being worried for the man. Especially after Rhys wasn't let in the kitchen. 

The first sign was Jack telling him to get busy and just do things around the house. Then, it was him not being allowed to even brew some coffee. After enough pestering, Jack made him some and closed the door, telling Rhys he couldn't come to the kitchen for some time. Thinking it was a bad prank, hungry for a snack, Rhys attempted to get to the kitchen with no fruition, especially since he didn't get the fruit he wanted. Being told 'later, kiddo' and given a banana made him feel like he was back at school but he tried his best to not show how it annoyed him. Jack's comments about poutiness not being the stronger weapon said he sucked at it. 

The worst, however, was the moment Jack smashed the door in his face when he was trying to sneak in and take a slice of the pizza they had for dinner. Annoyed, hungry and tired, through the door, he told Jack if he wanted to cook some pot, the kitchen was the WORST place for that type of cooking. Instead of any of the typical Jack-making remarks Rhys expected to hear, the man opened the door, checked his nose he even forgot he was holding, and gave him a heated-in microwave two pizza slices and soda with three ice cubes. 

Apologies coming from that man's mouth felt still like a fever dream - too face-warming. Too weird. But it was important to hear and receive.

"I'm just making something atrocious in the kitchen. Smells horrible - so I'm doing you a favour, Rhysie. Don't stay up too late, we have a few things to do tomorrow." 

Nodding in agreement, Rhys stood up and went to eat what he was given and slowly, very slowly, in fact, prepared for bedtime. Scanning through all his Echo Eye files for some clues hadn't been fruitful for the past few days but there were enough folders to check for eternity. He had that, in a way - just not at the place he maybe would want. Not realising when he stopped seeing the Echo Eye layout, with a droll falling from his left cheek, Rhys slowly opened his eyes, seeing a figure above him. The hand on his shoulder didn't leave many suspects on who it might be but, the cold point on his cheek wasn't as easy to guess. "Open up, buttercup." "Oaaaghaa?", Rhys said very charismatically, obviously. "Come on, it will melt. Just say aaaaa or eeee, both are good. Or even waaaah, just don't do it too loud. We're no longer in kindergarten." "Mmwha waw you tal'in aboth...", Rhys straightened his back and said in the most professional tone. "I'm talking about the ice crea- yogurt, I mean, oh you get what I mean. Taste it." "I ion wanna. I washed my teeth, just.... now...." "Princess, it's 4 am. You're dressed in your clothes, you have one shoe still on and it's only between you and one Skag probably where the other is gone. I want to fall asleep soon but I won't be able to finish this if I don't know, you know like, if I did a good job." "Mm but is athrosiosh...." "To me. Fortunately, there is only one person with good taste in this room, so this should be up to your liking. Now chop chop, I don't want it dribbling off my fingers and staining me for life."

While the metal of the spoon was getting a tiny bit warmer, the trails of the frogurt slowly melting off Rhys' skin made him reluctantly open his mouth and give the cold mass a lick. The familiar taste made his eyes open, while not fully, a lot more, and he grabbed the spoon, eating everything off it.

"How did you find Fran's here?" "Who's Fran." "The frogurt lady. Unless she started selling these goods through grocery shops." "Oh yes, pumpkin. I just spent 7 hours on opening shop-bought creams." "That sucks on you." 

Rhys cackled and yawned. "But, where did you find my Fran's fav?" "Where? Well jee, princess, let me think of every shop being close by. Oh, right - they typically don't have atrocious and horrible tastes. I'd be scared living here if others would like this as much as you." "Mm, so, was this what you got from Elpis?" "I don't think - - My God, please don't act dumb, I'm doing everything in my mind not to kiss you at this moment. No, it's--I worked on it. All day. Based on the description you said. No ice shop here, and no van with fun music around. It's just me, making you a treat." 

Rhys felt his mind open a bit more, finally letting the information he was hearing process. "Wait so - you made it?" "Unfortunately." 

Jack's face was still covered in shadow but, the softness of his voice and the hand, wrapped under the right ear as the thumb was slowly careering his cheek, felt like enough signs the guy was in a good mood. 

"You didn't have to but... How did you get the perfect combination of flavours and textures? It feels just so right." "I had my fair share of horrible meals I had to make in my life to sustain someone." "You truly didn't...have to-" "Yes, and I won't redo this massacre anytime soon. But check the freezer on your 'sad nights ice cream times' or some other shit mood." "No - - I meant the kissing. I mean - both." "... Kiddo I..." 

Rhys' consciousness was drifting back and forth but he knew he was speaking very nonchalantly.

"Come to bed then. You look tired." No one had ever said these words in a more confident, job-winning way. "I need to put the atrocity in the fridge but -- I'll uh. I'll be back." "That would be nice." "Don't fall asleep before I'm back. Wait for me." 

Not even five minutes later, after running what felt like a marathon, Jack came back to the master bedroom and heard Rhys soft snores. Shaking his head and talking about how the guy would get mad in the morning for the state of the clothes, Jack gently joined him in the bed and wrapped his arms around him, finally feeling the tiredness hitting. He didn't mind it, though. The warmth, spreading in his chest, helped him fall asleep easier than the past few alone nights. This wasn't a sweet moment. Probably not even bittersweet. 

But a weird mix of ingredients the guy in his arms liked. 

His tongue was to be examined but... 

Maybe some other time.

[ifwebefriends]

I love goofy-ass ships. I love ships where it’s two absolute goofballs, just two absolute honky honk buffoons being silly and goofy and engaging in tomfoolery together. And they also cuddle and make out.

[highlynerdy]

If there was anyone to ever get through this life With their heart still intact, they didn't do it right. The last time I felt your weight on my chest, you said, "We didn't get it right but, love, we did our best."

x for my fellow angst gremlin and arthur lover, @queerofthedagger 🖤

[kunikisss]

all fanfiction of every single character i ever like is smut and ON TOP OF THAT 99% of it is noncon😭😭 what is this curse

[starry-snippets]

ash + salt.

um. in a mood for angst. tw breakups <3  based off of autoheart’s “no beat to my heart” 

anyway jotaro x gender neutral reader angst 

“I’m breaking up with you.” 

You’re on the rooftop, enjoying lunch together like you have since high school started. His chopsticks are still in your bento box after you both ate the one his mother prepared. A hand in his lap and his elbow resting on his thigh while he holds the cigarette he was smoking, he stares right into your eyes with an expression you can’t read. Jotaro isn’t scowling; his face is actually free from any emotion. Doesn’t make his gaze any less intense. 

“What?” 

You hate yourself for chuckling in shock, but with the influx of emotions you need some way to get it out before you break down sobbing. Feeling your lip quiver, you realize that weak laugh wouldn’t prevent you from breaking down on the rooftop where you were just laughing — just telling each other how much you loved them. Well, you said it first after he reached to hold your hands, not fighting the way you love to intertwine them. He nodded and clenched your hand which is normally his way of saying “I love you too.” 

“I don’t love you anymore.” 

Before he’s finished his words you’re tearing up. Nothing escapes your waterline, the little water you’ve had today rendering you unable to express how painful his words are. Jotaro stares deep into your eyes with his vibrant blue ones, that look along with his words piercing through your heart. He watches intently as your hands shake as your hold the bento box on your lap, and how his chopsticks have now rolled onto the floor. 

“It’s over.” 

Jotaro concludes before standing up, dropping the butt of his cigarette, and crushing it with the heel of his foot. You watch as the smoke diminishes, how the ashes leave a nasty smudge on the roof. He hasn’t left yet despite destroying his cigarette, so you stare at him with teary eyes and a blank expression. 

“I hate how you smoke. You’ll kill yourself.” 

You say as a, perhaps petty, confession to… maybe retaliate against him breaking up with you. Jotaro mutters his catchline in a tone you’ve never heard him use towards you. The same tone he uses whenever his groupies are trying to cling to his side, trying to convince him to date them. You watch with glossy eyes as Jotaro heads back inside.

Leaving you with the smell of cigarette smoke and an unbearable burn spreading from your chest to your face.