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#ignore this i’m in a weird mood
lilyaceofdiamonds · 1 year
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The sentence ‘my mother is pissed at me because i refuse to quit my retail job so i can fly to [redacted state] for christmas and when i said they could come to my state she said they had already bought tickets’ is just. How does that even sound real.
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skyward-floored · 5 months
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Logically I know it’s been five years so it shouldn’t be surprising that I do actually look older then I do in the pictures from 2019 my mom is sorting through but also. those five years aged me a lot
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skinnyscottishbloke · 10 months
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woke up, might cry later idk
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catilinas · 2 years
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Silius Italicus, Punica 2.296-303 trans. J.D. Duff
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vampyrsm · 1 year
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i think one of my eye opening realisations whilst i write is that i’ve never had real aftercare & so when i write it, i put in everything i would want someone to do for me because i never got it LMFAO
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cloneboywonder · 1 year
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im so CWCcoded
#anyway my apologies for gaslighting you all about not personal diary posting bc my dad just texted me goodnight and it made me sad#him and my mom both tried to call me all day I feel bad when I ignore them#bc I know they’ll be dead someday and they won’t be able to call me and I won’t be able to answer#and my brothers both tried to call me I know my mom narced that I was weird yesterday and now everyones scrambling to keep track of me#it’s very nice of them but I really do hate being reminded that I’m the family member that like#they’ve all quietly agreed is always going to have to be monitored and taken care of#I wouldn’t be surprised if Andy and Alex haven’t talked about who I’m going to going to live by when our parents are both gone#it was kind of funny Andy invited me to like go install a security camera with him today#I said no but I do think it could’ve been a fun experince#I was gonna see my mom but she didn’t want to go out again so I waited around until my dad tried to call me again#so then be brought me with him to a hardware store where he tried (and failed) to return paint or something#we love a schemer#and then we picked up Andy and got milkshakes but I was ill so he got me real food on the way home#but I’m going to have to find a way to throw it out tomorrow bc I didn’t eat that much of it and I don’t want him to be sad about it#and I have to clean my room bc Lydia will be here soon#I was weepy in the car and my dad kept saying it’s nice you’ll get a few days with her before the concert#I know :-(#to some extent I love that he’s so incapable of handling emotional moods bc he just puts on songs and complains about them#bc he knows I like to complain and I think he gets scared when I don’t talk and that’s his attempt at getting me to#I need to finish my costume and make bracelets and clean my room these seem doable#okay bye please don’t unfollow me#also I love the name doxing bc these are for me and me only and maybe burke when he logs on I love you#my posts
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I see all of these positivity posts about all of my favorite blogs. I’ve been sort of MIA and slacking in the sending of random positivity messages , so they aren’t from me. BUT I SWEAR WHOEVER IS SENDING THEM IS TAKING THE WORDS RIGHT OUT OF MY MOUTH. You are all so wonderful and lovely and I want to squish you with affection. ❤️❤️ thanks for putting up with me and max.
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sunnibits · 1 year
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*insert that one office meme* making ocs is so cool, I’d love to know literally anything about them some day :)
#vent that I will probably regret later incoming sorry!#feel free to ignore#aaahahaa I honestly need to stop looking at other ppls oc art because it literally just makes me mad!!#whyyyy the fuck is everyone else always better at making ocs then I am 😐 I’m tired of it#yes I may post nonstop ab loving Reggie but honestly. I am constantly sick with envy about other ppls ocs#it just feels like everyone else always has soooo many more cool ocs and they’re so much more developed#like they actually know what’s fucking going on and they’re actually interesting#and have cool ass designs that I could never come up with#and I’m sick of it!! I’m sick of it!!!! I just want that!!#why am I literally incapable of making characters I actually care about I don’t get it#every time I try to come up with an original story I get bored fucking instantly#it has helped a little but to stop worrying about stories so much and just make ocs that are fun to draw#but god I just want cool fun ocs!! more of them!!!! that I actually know shit about!!#like am I just lazy or is developing characters sooo hard#no matter how much I like a character in the beginning I always feel like everybody else’s ideas are a million times cooler#ugh#I’m fucking tired of it#like how am I supposed to fulfill my childhood dream of writing a novel if I never produce any original ideas that I’m able to stick to 😐#I’m just! so jealous!#ugh sorry for venting and being embarrassing I’m just in a weird mood tonight#probably will delete later
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averruncusho · 2 years
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Honestly, I’m pretty disappointed that no one i know on tumblr has taken up my offer of free lodging in Singapore. It’s almost like all of us are too poor to travel or something smh
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marshmellowtea · 2 years
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agghh that sucks
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lilyaceofdiamonds · 2 years
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Me, sitting alone in my apartment wearing short-shorts and a cami because it’s hot as hell: omg they know, they’re going to tell on you
UGGGH. Brain please. No one is there. I know. Before three years ago we couldn’t leave the house in outfits like this because what if someone saw and told our mother or the cult leaders. But it’s okay. We don’t live near any of the countless people who knew us by sight, even if we didn’t know them. We do not have to worry about strangers knowing who we are and telling on us. No one knows us here. The cult can’t find us *please still be true please don’t have our new address Again*.
We haven’t even left the apartment the last two days. (Partially because of the hypervigilance, partially because it’s hot as fuck outside) No one has seen us. No one is outside the window. We are fine. Please stop panicking about wearing slutty weather-appropriate clothing. Also: fuck the cult, which is another point for ‘why we should wear it anyway’. Plus it’s fucking hot outside.
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spicysucculentz · 6 months
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that one sappho fragment about being broken with longing for a boy…… literally me rn trying to study for finals!!! I think I can recite it off the top of my head but I better double check
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xxflyingwiththestarsxx · 11 months
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I don’t really.. like thinking. Actually it kind of hurts if I’m honest.
But I am also no longer trusting, cause as gullible as I am/was, now I just think everyone’s trying to take advantage of that so I won’t believe a word you say.
I mean - I guess that’s not entirely true (not liking thinking) ‘cause I like thinking about cats. And a world where everyone’s actually nice to each other, and talks things out, and everyone’s reasonable and the only conflicts are because someone put ketchup on something that was not supposed to have ketchup, but it ultimately ends peacefully because everyone understands that just because someone likes something different than you doesn’t make it wrong or dangerous or scary.
But then I get hit with a reality check and I’m back to not liking thinking again.
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gaylotusthatexists · 1 year
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i really gotta. stop laughing when being told that people have died.
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rachalixie · 3 months
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can’t get you off my mind
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all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?
warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader
genre: fluff, comfort
word count: 4k
it starts at a bar. 
or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.
but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 
“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 
“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”
you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 
“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”
“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”
“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 
he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.
he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 
a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 
the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 
your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 
another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 
“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”
“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?
“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”
the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 
by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.
changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 
“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 
“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”
“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”
“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”
“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 
“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 
“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”
“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”
“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”
the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 
— 
he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 
god, is everything about this man endearing? 
he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 
he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 
“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 
“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 
four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 
“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”
“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 
“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 
“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”
“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”
he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 
it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 
“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”
he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 
“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 
“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”
“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”
“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 
“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 
“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”
you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 
your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 
you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 
you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 
you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 
“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”
it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold
onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 
“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 
“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 
“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 
chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 
“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”
“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 
your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 
chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 
“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”
“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 
“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 
“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 
“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 
“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”
you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 
he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 
as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 
the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 
you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 
you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 
your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 
he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 
he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 
you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 
he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 
“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”
“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 
“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”
he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 
“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”
“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”
he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.
“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 
“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”
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emmyrosee · 4 months
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I found out akaashi calls Kuroo ‘Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo-San’, so here you all go
——-
“No, truly.”
“Like, he’s so cocky, for what?”
“Literally!”
“And don’t even get me started on his hair today; like good lord, did he look in a mirror?”
From around the corner, Kuroo and Bokuto listen intently, one with a small smirk, the other with worry in his eyes. You and Akaashi had been talking in between practices for the past three days, for hours on end, and it was about time the two captains called you out on it.
What they didn’t take into account, was the one and only, calm, collected Akaashi Keiji to be such a gossip.
Even Kuroo’s got to admit, it’s kinda hot to hear his insignificant other and Bokuto’s wrangler talk shit.
“Do you think they’re talking about me?” Bokuto asks, and Kuroo shakes his head in mischief.
“No, they’re talking about me, Bokuto.”
“How can you tell?”
“They’d never talk bad about you- one, they adore you, and two, Akaashi knows better than to risk putting you in a mood-“
Interrupting Kuroo’s countdown, there’s a groan from the other side of the wall, followed by an akaashi chuckle, “hey- he’s your man.”
Kuroo smirks, “number three.”
Bokuto’s worried expression turns to one of amusement, “ohhhh, you have ugly hair!” He cackles, pointing at Kuroo. Behind the corner, the two of you go quiet, and Bokuto covers his mouth. “Well good luck, Kuroo!”
“Thanks, Bokuto,” he chuckles, stretching before making his way around the corner to face you both. “Heyyy,” Kuroo sings as he walks towards you. He lowers his eyes as you shift in shock, and Akaashi merely looks up at him in challenge. “I was wondering where you two disappeared to.”
“Same place we always do,” Akaashi says flatly, taking a sip of his water. “I’m glad you’re able to use your cognitive thinking skills to find us.”
He gives Akaashi a fake, dramatic smile, before letting his body language drop back to casual. He casts you a look, “hey babe.”
“Hey love,” you mewl, resting your head against his thigh cutely, and he knows you know he heard you and Akaashi not thirty seconds ago. He smiles and gently uses a large hand to cup the back of your head, thumb gently stroking your temple.
“Whatcha talking about?” Tetsuro chirps, smiling fakely. “Got all nice and quiet when I came around the corner.”
Akaashi rolls his eyes, “talking about them potentially becoming a manager for your team. Why’re you acting weird?”
Tetsuro lets out a loud “ahh,” in understanding. “Was that before you asked if I looked into a mirror today?”
Akaashi smirks, “before, of course.”
“Right, obviously.”
You blink at him in mercy, “we were just kidding…”
“Oh, I’m sure,” tetsuro says, pinching his brows as he nods in understanding. Then, he hunches over to be closer to you, face to face.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you pay.”
You scream as he scoops you in his bulky arms and tosses you over his shoulder, ignoring your flailing limbs and laughter. “You, I’ll deal with later,” he says, locking eyes with Akaashi.
Who only gives him a smirk to rile him further, “in your dreams, Kuroo-San.”
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