#kind of enamored w the idea that ** * **** ****** it would just come across to most like * **** **** ******

[icarianiscariot]

awake past midnight? u know what time it is <3

[xoculture]

listening to music and falling even more deeply in love with my men so here's a couple of songs 4 them. pt 1 hee hee

If I Should Die Tonight by Marvin Gaye just screams Fernando to me cause like he's just a guy. Like he is so enamored by you and loves you even if he isn't the most PDA or showy person when it comes to it. He doesn't know how to express how much he loves you and it scares him because what if something happens to him? His worst fear is him leaving you behind and you feeling like he never really loved you because he does. Esp after everything yall been through he knows being with him is not easy but he is forever grateful that you stick by him through and through. He knows that you are the best thing that happened to him and he just cant get over the thought of just meeting you. He's feels so lucky to have known you and hold you because he knows that other dudes wont ever know what this kind of love feels like like he genuinely feels bad for other people. Fernandos with you for the long haul, you're literally a walking dream to him. It's so sad for him too because he feels like hes gonna die fast (spoiler alert, he doesn't) but he cant shake the feeling so every moment he spends with you he revels in your presence. He's not a religious man but he prays. He prays for you and he prays for him to stay with you for as long as you live because there's no point in living without you. ALSO CAN I JUST HAVE A MOMENT TO TALK ABT. HOW GOOD HE HOLDS YOU? Like seriously hes so good at hugs and holding people its so unfair because what words fail to say what can get the message across is how he holds you.

Things he does to show you he loves you: late night cruisin' listening to oldies, getting you food from your favorite taco shop, bringing you things when comes back from Peru

OMG MANOLO NOOOO. literally fucking sobbing over him bc so many songs remind me of him like corridos but also the song Todo Cambió by Camila is just such a perfect example of his love for you. like before he met you he was just this scrappy new mexican kid who got into fights and everyone was lowkey intimidated by him, but you liked him. You didn't even know him, he literally beat your best friend's ass but you still talked to him after class. if he was honest, the minute he knew he was gone was the minute you two locked eyes after he got pulled off another kid by the narcs. then the more you spent time together during his punishment for the fight (its a thing I'm writing ill post it later) he swears his life changed. He fell in love so hard and so fast, like 'Todo cambió cuando te vi, De blanco y negro a color, me convertí' like that was fr him the moment he met you. I CANT THIS WHOLE SONG IS REALLY YALL LIKE IM ACTUALLY CRYING OVER IT. He's just so down for you and hes not much of a PDA guy (at all) but he is never embarrassed to show you how much he loves you (ok a little he is but its only bc hes not used to PDA). He defends your honor so fiercely and like if other girls try to holla at him even after he already rejected them he doesnt give a fuck he'll tell them to fuck off and kill themselves because he is so grossly devoted to you he doesn't even want to entertain the idea of other girls liking him. And even tho his homelife is fucked up he tries to never bring it to you because he doesn't want you to have to carry that weight but it is okay to share the burden and you're always there for him and he cannot even begin to tell you how thankful he is for you.

Things he does to show you he loves you: hears you talking about whatever of yours being broken and fixes them the next day, cooks for you, locks arms with you when you cross the street

FREDDY... Freddy :( he was sooo hard finding a song because even though A Que Saben Tus Besos by Anthony Cruz fits his situation w/ u before yall started dating PERFECTLY. I don't think it fits now (also he doesn't listen to salsa often so) another song i think would fit is I Could Fall In Love by Selena. Freddy didn't really listen to Selena before being with you, but after you forced him to watch the movie and series AND listen to her entire discography he can say he has a special place for her. I think this song fits both ways, before he was dating you and during, because yall start out as friends and hes always purposely annoying you (snapping your bra strap, licking your face etc) and he doesnt realize that hes in love with you until he thinks about it then hes like "oh shit" but he keeps it to himself bc your cousin is his best friend and you're his friend like he doesnt wanna jeopardize that. So here he is listening to Selena in his car because she reminds him of you. Like he's so in love with you its so gross to him. Everything about him is smooth and fast but whenever hes around you everything slows down and it literally hurts his soul that he cannot be with you. The way that he's so perceptive and in tune with you is insane because like i said he is your best friend when you go to Jersey, he knows literally everything about you and knows how you're feeling and shit like if yall are out and you wanna dance but your date doesnt guess whos coming up to you and telling- not asking- telling you to dance with him like "Let's go dance" and holding his hand out like i cannot. Literally the smoothest but the minute yall start dancing it doesnt matter whats playing he just looses himself to you. AND WHEN YALL START DATING??? GOODBYE GOT ME FUCKING SOBBING. OR IF YOU DID SOMETHING DIFFERENT ABOUT YOUR APPEARANCE, HE ALWAYS NOTICES. it never fails like "Damnn gata, got your hair done? who you tryna impress?". Like dudes so fucking in love with you and hes so unashamed once yall become public. His hands are on you and hes telling you daily how much he loves you :(( telling other bitches to "fuck with someone else" bc he got a woman at home. :( Freddy will literally devote his life to you do not play with him. Literally defends you for whatever if the guys are ganging up on you a little too much and you're getting overwhelmed hes telling them to back off ASAP. if someone in ur family is making some sideways ass comment about you he does not give a fuck he will call them out. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HIM AND UR FAMILY BC HE IS THE BEST GUY TO BRING TO YOUR FAMILY. I CANT DONT HMU.

Things he does to show you he loves u: if a new game is coming out and you take interest he's gonna hack the system and snatch that game, unashamed affection 24/7, asks you to run errands w him so yall can spend time together

[plus-size-reader]

Cooler than Him

Wade Wilson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2312 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Wade flirting with you, a rival headhunter that hangs out sometimes

(Part of draft clean out, just an idea I had that I really liked)

—————————————————————————————————

You were cooler than him.

Wade was perfectly aware of that, but that didn’t deter him from becoming absolutely fascinated by you, even when Weasel told him it was a terrible idea.

You would squash him like a bug.

He knew it, and so did everyone else.  

There wasn’t anyone in the scene who didn’t know who you were.

You had been around for a long time, and maintained one of the highest body counts around. If somebody needed someone else dead, they would come to you for a heavy price.

By all accounts, you would chew up Wade Wilson and spit him out but he really didn’t seem to care. 

If nothing else, the fact that you were so scary only made him more interested in you because he was a glutton for punishment.

You were stunning, with the sort of blank stare that let him know just how much you hated his guts.

That was something that a guy like Wade couldn’t pass up, after all, women were so much hotter when they hated him.

He couldn’t help it.

“I’m gonna go talk to her” the words came from his throat with a decided nod. He had been staring at you for the past hour or so, but only now did it seem like a good idea to address you.

It certainly wasn’t.

No amount of time would ever make that a good idea, but when Weasel once again tried to tell him that, he was only waved off. Surely, the bartender didn’t know what he was talking about.

You couldn’t be that bad.

If there was one thing Wade had, it was game, and he was sure that once you got to know him, there would be nothing keeping you from falling for him.

Besides, no harm could come from him offering to buy you a drink, so that’s exactly what he did.

Before he could risk his best friend talking him out of it, Wade made his way across the grungy floor to where you were sitting with a sly smile on his face, confidence practically oozing from his every pore.

Wade thought that if he had anything, it was game, but in fact, all he had was blind confidence and the fact that he was immortal.

Though, in order to think that talking to you would be a good idea, he had to also be an idiot.

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked, doing his best to be smooth as he slid into the chair across from you, not missing the look you shot his way as he did.

No one ever bothered you while you were sitting here, not unless they had a job they needed done, and Wade certainly didn’t look like a client.

You worked for high dollar clients, men who would pay thousands to have work rivals taken out and women who wanted their husbands dead.

You definitely didn’t do whatever it was he needed.

“You can’t afford what I’m drinking” you allowed, not even bothering to look at him. Your eyes were trained on a few men across the bar, a fight budding between them.

That was far more interesting to you than whatever this guy wanted, something you weren’t sure he’d ever actually get around to asking you.

When you finally did let your eyes slip to his face, you saw that he was just staring at you, as if he couldn’t get any weirder.

“Well, then maybe you should be buying my drinks” he joked, though as he laughed, the dead air hung around him as a stale reminder that he had no business being here.

Luckily, tact was one of those things Wade just never seemed to develop.

It didn’t seem to matter that he was most assuredly striking out, at least he’d gotten to talk to you.

He was a glass half full kind of guy, after all.

“Can I do something for you?” you wondered, downing the shot in front of you that he’d brought with him from the bar. 

It was not what you’d been drinking, or what you’d drank for a long time, but it would have to do.

This guy wasn’t going away anytime soon, and talking to him sober was sure to give you a migraine.

The action seemed to astound Wade, who was already so enamored with you that you could have stabbed him and he would have thanked you for it.

You were just so much cooler than him.

“Absolutely, I mean, anything” he hummed, practically picking his jaw up from the floor as he admired you. Had he been anyone else, Wade would have scurred away with his tail between his legs, but he wasn’t anyone else.

There was only one Wade Wilson in the world, and he wanted you.

He had already made up his mind.

“You couldn’t afford that either” you allowed, the corner of your lip turning up just enough for Wade to gather that you were trying to tell him a joke, after he’d swallowed his tongue.

He really was in way over his head.

“I’m pretty resourceful, you never know” he countered, really doing his best to be smooth, even though it was becoming more and more obvious that he wasn’t. As confident as he was, you weren’t even breaking a sweat.

Clearly, he wasn’t the first guy in this place who tried to hit on you, but he was the first to have gotten this far.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” you muttered, glancing between where Wade was sitting in front of you and where the bartender was, intently staring at the pair of you like a crazy person.

In fact, as you looked around, you noticed that quite a bit of the bar had turned their attention to you.

Evidently, they had been expecting you to put him on his ass, and every second that passed with him still sitting in front of you shocked them further. It was pretty impressive that you hadn’t shooed him away.

...or broke his arm like the last guy.

“Friend of yours?” you asked, gesturing over to where Weasel was, not phased in the least by being made. He just couldn’t imagine that Wade’s insane plan was working. After all, he’d watched you put a lot of people in their place.

It wouldn’t have been hard for you to do the same to him.

Wade looked at you for a moment more before turning around to finally get a good look at whatever it was that had captured your attention.

The sight before him was embarrassing to say the least. His friend was leaning over the bar with his jaw resting on his hand, eyes glued to the impossible sight of Wade Wilson sitting so near to you.

Shit.

As if you needed any more reason to think he was a total loser.

“Uh, I guess you could call him that. He’s more of an informant” he lied, hoping that would make this whole thing a little less elementary. 

It wasn’t lost on Wade that you were on another level, and every moment of your time you spent here was a gift.

Not that he was really making good use of it.

Really, he was blowing it.

The obvious lie got a laugh out of you, a sound that was music to Wade’s ears from the moment it left your lips. He actually got you to laugh?

There was no way, he wasn’t even that funny, and if memory served, you didn’t ever do that. At least, he hadn’t ever heard you laugh like that before.

“Oh, that’s funny huh?” he joked, turning around to face you completely once again, hoping he could ride this wave for a little longer. 

He didn’t have the nerve to ask you out quite yet but that didn’t mean he was giving up either.

He just needed a better segway.

“Yeah, it is. What kind of information does Weasel get you? Middle school bullies and dime store thieves?” you prompted, trying to figure out how well that worked out for him.

After all, there was no way he was used to a clientele like yours.

Not the serious kind.

“Ouch” Wade chuckled, holding his heart in fake pain, though he couldn’t blame you for that assumption. It was true, the two of you were in two very different businesses but that didn’t mean you didn’t have anything to teach one another.

He could use some help polishing his image, and you certainly couldn’t hurt your own with a bit of softening.

“What? You’re a mercenary, not a high dollar assassin. It was simply an observation” you shrugged, that sly smirk pulling on your lips as if daring him to call you on your words.

You knew he wouldn’t.

No one would, but you assumed that perhaps a small part of you was curious to see just how far he would take this whole thing. 

Clearly, he came over here hoping to get something from you, and you wanted to know what.

Talking to you, out of the blue, uninvited was a ballsy move, if nothing else and you were impressed.

As much as someone like you could be, that was.

“I bet I could be, if you gave me a shot” he shrugged, not quite understanding what made you so different from him. 

You both killed for money and you were both having a drink in this shitty bar.

How different could you really be?

Just when you were starting to get bored, Wade found a way to pull you in again. That was one hell of a claim to make, especially to someone like you.

“Oh yeah? You think you could do what I do?” you questioned, and for a moment, Wade worried he may have actually upset you. 

You had been giving him the benefit of the doubt thus far but he couldn’t be shocked to know he overstepped.

It wasn’t until you smiled again that he realized you had something else in mind.

“Probably, I kill criminals. What do you do? Take out rich white guys who’re cheating on their wives?” he pushed further, no longer worrying at all about upsetting you. 

It was obvious that if you wanted him gone, he’d be gone.

Now, the two of you were just having a conversation, like any other two people.

“I deal with all kinds of clientele, but if you’re so confident, perhaps you’d like to give it a shot?” you offered, sure that he would back down once you called his bluff but you didn’t understand who you were talking to.

Wade wasn’t just some guy trying to impress you, he was also completely devoid of common sense.

He wasn’t ever going to back down from a challenge.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I only have one condition” he decided, finally finding his way in. He smiled, leaning a bit closer over the table, that whole plan coming together better than he couldn’t have planned.

It was happening.

“What?” you asked, shuddering to think of whatever it was he had in mind. 

This conversation had actually gone okay so far, but just like every other guy, it wouldn’t shock you if he ruined it last minute.

You were just hoping he wouldn’t.

So far, Wade had managed to actually capture your attention in a way that wasn’t common for you and the potential that had wasn’t lost on you either. All you could do was hope that he was real.

It would definitely suck if he was just like everyone else always was with you.

“If I do it, you have to let me take you out” he grinned, trying to be as sly as he could. This wasn’t really something that ever went well for him, hitting on women and all that, but he knew he had to try.

If he made it this far and didn’t at least put it out there, he would never forgive himself.

You sighed, sort of relieved that he hadn’t come over here to try and get in your pants without any sort of interest in you, or to tell you that you weren’t nearly as talented as he was. You got plenty of that.

What was less common in a place like this was finding someone actually interested in you as a person.

It was rare, especially in your business.

“Okay Wade, you have yourself a deal” you agreed, sort of hoping that he didn’t get himself killed doing this. Going out with him may not have been where you thought this was going, but it might not be the worst.

He was interesting, and if he actually managed to do what you did without fail, you would definitely owe him something. Though, you didn’t have a ton of confidence over it either.

Wade wasn’t really prepared for this in the way he thought he was.

“I have just the client for you” you hummed, reaching into your pocket and handing him a card. 

You had been doing some light recon on this guy for the last few days but there was no real reason not to let him handle it.

Not if he was so willing to do this.

Then, once he’d taken the card, you got up from the table and headed toward the bar’s exit, leaving Wade all alone.

He looked at the card for a second, a single name written on one side of it, who he assumed was the guy he had to find before turning it around. On the other side, of course, was a set of numbers.

Your phone number, if he had to guess.

God, you were so much cooler than him but it didn’t matter now. All that Wade cared about now was getting that date, after he killed this guy.

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[trashytummiez]

Jack has an upset stomach. So Prefect gives him ginger ale for him to chug and makes him really gassy.

Yuu always loved cuddling with Jack on the couch together. The musclebound wolf was such a sucker for physical affection that he always kept Yuu firmly wrapped in a protective and loving embrace. This made it easier to rest her head against his broad chest and rub his muscular tummy from beneath his shirt which always made his gray tail wag merrily.

Jack's stomach was pressing out tightly and his perfect abs were thinned. He'd just had a very big meal and was enjoying some post-food tummy rubs from his girlfriend. The wolf always loved having his belly rubbed by Yuu it came with being a wolf boy. Canines always loved having their tummies rubbed.

And Yuu loved Jack's tummy a whole lot. It was a win win for everyone.

But then Jack's stomach uttered a sickly deep bubbling. The kind that was both loud and really unpleasant sounding.

Jack grimaced and sat up from his side of the couch along with Yuu.

"Are you alright?" Yuu asked.

Jack bared his fangs and winced with a hand gripping his stomach hard.

"Ungh...my stomach's been bothering me for an hour actually..." Jack confessed.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Yuu asked.

"W-Well it's not like I couldn't handle it or anything," Jack said back defensively. But an even sharper churn made him recoil with pain. "The belly rubs were helping but they were just dulling the pain not making it go away..."

Poor boy.

Yuu just smiled and patted Jack on the back. She hopped up from the couch and went to the fridge and eventually pulled out a two liter bottle of Ginger Ale. She gave the bottle to Jack and told him to drink up that ginger ale always helped with an upset tummy.

At first Jack was dismissive of the idea pulling that macho silliness that he was a wolf and that he could handle a little bellyache. But when his belly started aching just a little too much with another intense churn he caved and took the bottle.

Jack brought it to his lips leaned back and began chugging a hearty amount of the soda all at once. His throat bobbed with really thick gulps that squelched loudly from his throbbing Adam's apple.

Yuu watched with heat in her cheeks while her beefy boyfriend slugged down a great deal of soda in a short timespan. Jack being a wolf meant he had an intensity to his appetite that most students couldn't match. It also meant he could down liquids a lot faster than everyone else except Leona and Ruggie. The sound of every thick wet gulp Jack gave was like music to Yuu's ears.

She listened and watched as the soda drained from the bottle at a remarkable pace. When she looked down she saw Jack's tummy beginning to stretch out. It was growing more bloated the more soda he downed and getting tighter by the second.

After getting a third of the ginger ale down Jack pulled the bottle aside and gasped heavily. He needed to catch his breath for a second there. But then Jack uttered a big rumbling burp that Yuu could feel reverberate beneath her.

BEEEEEEEEEELLLLUUUURRRRCH!!!!!

Jack panted then winced as more gas bubbled in his belly. He gave the side of his stomach a firm pat and uttered another large gassy burp. An even louder burp followed right after that then a weaker one.

"Unnf, man," Jack huffed and patted his belly with relief.

Yuu blushed so intensely at that action.

"...Excuse you," she uttered.

Jack simply grunted and gave his tummy a gentle inquisitive rub. "Huh. Starting to feel a little better," he admitted.

Then he went right back to chugging more ginger ale.

He was sucking a great deal of the beverage with heavy gusto. Little golfball sized lumps rippled down Jack's throat with the amount of soda he was chugging all at once. His tummy continued expanding a little from all that soda filling him up along with the meal he already ate.

Jack paused to catch his breath after getting a good amount of soda down then once again burped so hard that Yuu could feel her bones rattle. Then he went right back to chugging while Yuu fawned over him.

Jack's tummy swelled out enough that his shirt started riding up. By the time he finished his abs were barely visible anymore from how bloated and taut his stomach had become. But the unpleasantly sour and sharp gurgling in his belly was being overtaken by a noisy deeper burbling from being so full of soda.

Oddly enough the latter was much easier for Jack to deal with. Anytime the bubbling got too intense Jack would pull the bottle away and let out the deepest burp Yuu had ever heard. Jack's burps were so strong that Yuu felt it each time he erupted with one. The sound alone turned her on but the feeling of reverberation was a whole new level of stimulation which riled her up.

But eventually Jack Howl finished the soda and tossed the crinkled bottle into a nearby trash can.

Then Jack threw his head back with the loudest and longest burp Yuu had ever heard him utter.

BWUUUUUUUUOOOOOORRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHRRRROOOOOOOOOOAAAARRRRUUUURRRRRRRHP!!!!!!!!

Yuu's face couldn't get more red by that point as she counted each second in her head. That was a ten second long burp easily!

"...That was a really good one Jack," Yuu expressed. The arousal in her voice was not at all subtle.

Jack moaned and slumped back on the couch lazily rubbing his bulging belly with both hands.

"Ungh...I'm so full..." Jack huffed moments before releasing another rumbling burp for Yuu to delight in.

Jack's belly was round and so incredibly tight looking. He was so bloated that his shirt lifted up enough to expose his belly button.

Yuu settled down besides Jack and put her hand on his expanded tummy. It felt so warm and taut. The way it gurgled so heavily beneath her hand suggested Jack's stomach was in flux from all that soda going down at once.

She rubbed Jack's belly in tension-reducing circles. Her soft delicate hand gingerly glided across that rock hard burbling tummy in wide circles that left Jack huffing. Yuu's hand ran up and down the side of that expansive stomach right around Jack's firm ribs. Her hand firmly ran from side to side to feel up the rounded crest of Jack's stomach.

Like before the soda chugging Jack's tail was once again wagging from the tummy rub. Yuu giggled and gave Jack's tummy a teasing pat which caused Jack to hiccup.

With so much pressure in his belly Yuu decided to help by applying a little more pressure to Jack's stomach.

The added pressure was enough to make Jack release a tremendous burp.

HOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRRHP!!!!!

The air had a semi-sweet smell from the ginger ale Jack consumed.

All that soda in his belly was making Jack really gassy and Yuu was loving every second of it. She pushed on Jack's belly again and the wolf gave another big throaty burp in response. He panted and couldn't help letting out another one right after that.

"You're really letting them out today huh," Yuu teased while she rubbed her hand over Jack's belly button.

"Hmph yeah yeah," Jack grumbled and blushed. He knew all about his girlfriends fetishes and even though he didn't get any of them he was begrudgingly okay with indulging them.

Though in this case, it really was just all that soda settling in his tummy.

Yuu continued fondling Jack's rounded belly pressing and kneading into it while she rubbed. And every time she did another forceful burp would erupt from Jack's throat. Sometimes a few in a row would come out whenever one got stuck and a big one rolled out freeing the others.

Finally she squeezed out one final burp that lasted almost as long as that ten second monster Jack let out earlier. After that Jack panted and went limp. Yuu fawned and giggled cuddling up besides Jack and more gently rubbing his bubbling tummy.

"Hows your tummy feeling now?" Yuu asked while delicately tracing her finger across Jack's tender lower stomach.

"...Exhausted..." Jack panted.

Yuu giggled and kissed Jack's belly button.

The young wolf blushed hard and looked away with a flustered grumble.

Jack sure was easy to fluster. But given how enamored Yuu was with his big tightly packed tummy and all the sounds it was making, Yuu figured it was about a tie for who flustered the other more.

BBBRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!!!!!

Jack burped one last time and thumped his chest with a softer burp.

"Unf...'scuse me."

...Okay, scratch that. Even though he wasn't even trying to, Jack definitely out-flustered Yuu.

[tough-bit-of-fluff]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt 1: Foster

It was a quiet afternoon in a low-rent neighborhood of the Goblet, where small shops and residences pressed closely together, worn but tidy. The heat of the day had urged most shoppers and residents along, either back to their homes for a nap before continuing the evening's work, or down the stone path to the brilliant turquoise pools of the posh Brimming Heart district.

It was from one of the aforementioned small shops though, one blessed at least with a large tree to shade it, that came a high-pitched cry, pleading and dramatic.

“Aww, come on, little guy, you hafta eat *something*! Your cute chubby lil tentacles are starting to look all listless, and you're not half as slimy as you were a week ago!”

The shop was the Compass Coffee and Second Chance Shop, and the cry came from Alyona Amariyo, who ostensibly worked there. At the moment, the fluffy, distraught miqo'te was lying on her belly in the middle of the floor, peering closely at a squat, strange creature that almost defied description. The “little guy” in question. Rejected foodstuffs lay scattered around them.

“Might it not be wise,” rumbled the canny hrothgar merchant Cielbasa from behind the counter, “To be a bit more specific than urging the beast to eat ‘something’?” He ran a hand across his furry face and muzzle, and shuddered, imagining the creature latched there.

“That's a g...good point,” Letharon agreed, sweeping a hand through his own dense thatch of cerulean blue hair. He frowned with concern down at Aly, who was pressing her round, pale cheek against the rubbery lavender hide of the blank-eyed animal in an affectionate nuzzle that went absolutely unreciprocated. “We d...don't even know if it's an am...phibian or insect or…” Or an abomination from the dark spaces between the stars, sent to enslave or consume all of mankind, starting with a too-trusting catgirl. “Or w..what,” he concluded, taking a protective step closer.

“Maybe he's a kind of frog,” Flavia suggested, the taller girl smoothing her skirts as she crouched down to join in observing Aly's new “friend.”

“Your belief is that this squelching, six-legged *thing* is a *frog*.” Ciel raised a bushy eyebrow.

“I like frogs,” Flavia explained, as though that was reason enough.

“I like frogs too!” Beamed Aly. “And I like solving mysteries with my friends. And we'll figure out what he is and what he wants, together!”

“Ninki Nanka,” came the proclamation from a shadowed shop-corner, by the bookshelves. Victor stepped dramatically into the light, causing the staff and scattered customers to gasp. Aly clapped at the theatricality.

Leth blinked. “W...what?”

Qoribucha, a tall Xaela shop regular sipping a comparatively tiny cup of espresso, offered a grave nod. “Perhaps he is speaking the words which shall release it back to the Void.”

Victor repeated, “Ninki Nanka. That's apparently what this thing is. Or at least I'm reasonably sure. Look at the striations on its tail.” He gestured to the book he was holding.

Cielbasa frowned. “Let me see that.”

Victor shrugged, and, focusing, used his telekinesis to float the tome across the room to the leonine shopkeep’s hands...perhaps with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

Ciel flipped rapidly through the pages, while Aly unsuccessfully offered the possible nanka a carrot, a gysahl green, and a handful of birdseed.

“A, ahem, ninki nanka, does not have six legs,” Ciel stated, tapping an illustration with his clawed finger.

“There will be more meat to harvest, when eventually its time comes,” Qori observed. “Perhaps it is a boon.”

“Maybe...this one's just special,” Aly suggested, not responding to the au ra’s suggestion, and massaging the nanka’s back. It made a wet noise that might have been a growl or a trill, or simply the passing of gas. A faint fishy smell filled the air, wrinkling the noses of everyone in the room, aside from the two enamored, oblivious women, and the creature itself, which didn't have a nose to wrinkle.

“You do tend to find the special ones,” Victor chuckled, reaching down to rub a pink, fuzzy ear.

“Ohh, no no, don’t eat that, silly!” Flavia chided the creature, who was waving its tentacles inquisitively at a “coffee” concoction she had made with unground coffee beans, an entire cup of sugar, and, by the look of it, several small pinecones, their sap-encrusted ends protruding from the unwholesome brew. “That’s people food, and it could make you sick.”

“That’s h...half right,” murmured Leth, bemused.

“I dunno,” said Aly. “He hasn't shown this much interest in anything at all today, maybe you could let him have a...bite? Sip? However you would interact with all that?”

Flavia nodded, holding the mug out to the nanka. It waddled over and descended upon the brew with a savage enthusiasm, tentacles flailing, thick tail thumping, as surprisingly loud slurping, splorching sounds filled the air.

“He likes it!” Aly cheered. ”Flavia, you're a culinary genius specifically for nankas, that is a highly specialized skillset, good work with that!” The other woman beamed at the peculiar praise.

The group watched the strange, six-legged nanka messily finish its decidedly unwholesome repast, then scurry around the floor in circles, before scuttling around the corner and down the stairs.

“He certainly seems...energetic, now,” Victor remarked, brushing off his vest and shirt-sleeves as if he felt slightly less clean for just having been in the same room as the strange animal.

“Maybe he went downstairs to get more coffee,” Flavia suggested.

“That's p...probably not the best idea,” Leth said, heading downstairs himself. The others followed his lead.

But when they arrived, the sight that greeted them was not of a nanka burrowing into the beans, but of a nanka frolicking in the fountain. Aly clasped her hands together joyfully, and ran to the creature's side. “Look how moist he is again! And ooh, you're making so much slime, little guy!”

Leth joined Aly and looked down with dismayed distaste. “The w...water’s turning all viscous and s...slimy, like from a h...hagfish!”

Aly nodded, tapping her lips in thought. “Do you think we should save some slime for the next time he's looking a little dried out? Or maybe he should just stay in the fountain…”

Leth put his hand on the miqo'te’s shoulder. “Aly, this is a w...wild animal we don't know much about. D...do you really think it's a good idea to k...keep it?”

Aly looked up at Leth with earnest gray eyes. “There's a lot about *us* we don't know yet. Stuff about my past, the way your machine parts work… And besides, isn't this supposed to be a place that helps travelers who aren't sure of their way? This little guy is a long way from home, and he needs our help!”

Letharon, a long way from what he once called home himself, sighed. “What are you going to c...call it? It probably won't be a l..little guy, forever,” he noted with no small amount of trepidation.

“Yes,” Ciel agreed archly from the stairwell. “What are you going to name the ‘frog’?”

“That's a great idea, Ciel! We will name him Frog.”

In the fountain, Frog ceased his splashing, and put his front feet on the ledge. He looked out into the basement café, and seemed to nod. His tentacles bobbed in apparent agreement, and his tail swished and gently sloshed in a satisfied way. Another wayward wanderer had come to the Compass to stay.

@eorzeanharmony @garleanfluff @sharp-cast-sharper-words and more, thank you for sharing your wonderful characters.

You can visit the Compass too! https://compasscoffee.carrd.co

[whitherliliesbloom]

of two minds, yet one heart

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ my writings ]  ★ [ prompt #10 - avail ]

[ deftarm & wol ] ★ [ 1,734 words ] ★ [ post-heavensward ]

vath deftarm and mentions of mogzin and linu vali, some minor spoilers for heavensward beast tribe quests. deftarm has a minor crush on illya and has no idea how to deal with it.

it’s the first time in a long while the deftarm wishes he could share one mind with someone

Loth ast Vath has never been noisier. Traffic in and out of their quaint, modest little village away from the Onemind has been prosperous, in no small part thanks to the efforts of a certain hero, whose name has been rattling incessantly in his carapace ever since her lengthened absence. 

It was no secret that the Warrior of Light was the the very reason he’s managed to achieve all that he has to this day. Despite the differences that set Vath, Moogle, Goblin and VanuVanu apart, all who were considered allies and business partners to the Nonmind would never fail to echo his own sentiments of the young lady’s kindness and altruism. 

Overwhelming gratefulness was one thing, and undoubtedly he held a large amount of admiration for her - as did the other beast men the hero has helped. 

But there was something else, a sensation that stirred at him and troubled him for the following bells to come. A heat, a restlessness, and the jitter of his normally sturdy limbs that was exclusive to only him - and only towards her.

He’d consulted his newly acquired friends about his predicament - Linu Vali, and unbelievably, master Mogzin of the Moogle builders, who’d proceeded to laugh his kupo nuts off when deftarm suggested his master to be the cause of his continuously racing heart. 

 “Maybe, maybe you like her?”

Ridiculous! Why it has got to be the most preposterous thing Mogzin has ever said to him - a tall feat with all of the moogle’s tendencies for absurd pranks and jokes considering. 

The deftarm had vehemently denied the possibility, despite his furry companion’s insistence otherwise. 

His once master.. now someone he’d proudly declared to be his friend, was someone he greatly respected - the first of any mortal he’d grown to admire and trust. Nothing more, nothing less. 

The thought of his courting instincts being riled by one of another race than himself - let alone a lalafellin that he’d considered to be his mentor above all else had left the deftarm so flustered that he could scarce concentrate on anything else. 

And before he knew it, she was gone, left on yet another one of her grand adventures that he could only ever dream of participating it. He was one of a deft arm, but not daft in the head to think he’d ever stand a chance of standing by her side, for the Warrior of Light’s reputation precedes what even his many new friends would boast. It was hard to imagine a singular figure more renowned in name in the entirety of Dravania, and Coerthas for the matter, and even the deftarm struggled to the day to understand the true scale of her fame. He was but an adventurer with little renown serving his own people - while she will continue to rise like a shining star, whose name would be uttered again again by the people like she was their only salvation. 

She’d certainly been his.

Melancholy accompanied the pride and loneliness that lingered in the Warrior of Light’s wake, and while he dared not hope for her to ever return, busy as she must certainly be..he’d be lying if he said that fleeting, worthless hope hadn’t crossed his mind at least once. 

“How fare you as of late?”

And what perfect timing for the accursed mortal herself to appear before him, basket of nanka eggs slung over her arm and an oblivious smile plastered on her face. Deftarm furiously clucks his mandibles and taps his claws, and the other nonminds around turn to glance and chuckle in his direction.. he isn’t sure if he’s glad or not for Illya to be largely uneducated about Vath body language. 

“G-good! We’re been keeping in touch with the other tribes more, and practicing our dance with as passionate a fervor as when you’d last visited!” 

“That’s wonderful to hear!” The deftarm is acutely aware of every little detail of her expression - the slight curl of her lips upwards to form into a smile, the tiny folds of her skin around her eyes and the plumpness of her round and full cheeks that cradled a small, button nose. 

A hard carapace was a universal sign of attractiveness to Vath and Gnath alike, a trait Illya sorely lacked in. And yet he could not help but to still think, against his better judgement, that the softness of her entire stature and being was adorable. She’s closer to a moogle than she was Vath in that regard, the pure white of her hair does no favors, but she is most definitely way cuter and less infuriating to bear the company of. 

“W-w-what.. <click> <click> Um.. brings you here, m-mas- Illya.”

He utterly rattles in his scales as he speaks her name, and it felt as taboo as it did exciting. 

“Hm? A-ah.. To visit you, deftarm.. I’ve been busy lately b-but.. I wanted to drop by from time to time and help out like old times... I-if you don’t mind, at least.” Her voice was one of the softest parts about her, like a melodic wind chime that danced slowly in the wind. And what she lacked in the clicking of mandibles, she more than made up for with stumbles of her tongue, and the darting of her eyes as color rose up her cheeks. He’d been made aware that that was the sign of a flustered mortal, and it did nothing but worsen his own rattling and tapping.

“Of course I don’t mind! You are ever welcome in Loth ast Vath!” 

He manages to stop himself before he could add anymore unneeded sentimentality into his words, and watches with intent as the lalafellin gently nodded his head and placed her little basket of offerings upon the counter, where Vath Keeneye accepts warmly after clucking twice in a tease towards deftarm’s obviously enamored state.

And yet his idol, innocent and oblivious as she is, saw nothing amiss as the deftarm held his claws together, his head twitching and restless as he’d attempt to conjure words to say to her.

“May I ask you something, I-Illya?”

“A-ah, y-yes! Of course, you can!”

He taps his feet against the ground twice, and places the flat of his claws against the top of his carapace.

“W-what do you think of me?”

The suddenness of his question leaves Illya speechless for a moment, and her voice sputters out uselessly before she slowly thinks to regain her composure. Not even the most well read of her own kind would understand her flustered jibberish. 

“W-well.. um.. you’re very brave! And kind.. and you’ve worked very very hard to help your village. Y-you’re very wonderful...” Affection laces her voice as she speaks, and though it wasn’t quite the answer Deftarm had been looking for, he’s utterly smitten by the sweetness of the words that leave her lips. “A-and..what do you think of me, Deftarm?”

What does he think of her? There were so many and more words he could think of saying, of words he wanted to say to her for a while. And yet not a single one would come to mind to form a cohesive sentence, or anything he believed would allow her to understand the depths of his heart.

“Y-you... are my hero. You are.. very vibrant! And shiny!”

“S-shiny?” 

“Yes!” he clicks and frantically nods his head. “You are like.. a beacon of light! And I..admire you very much! B-but.. not in the same way as... other people..”

High praises never get any less easy for her to digest without going utterly red in the face, no matter how many times and from how many people she hears it from, but the manner of his voice trailing off catches her attention and piques her interest.

“N-not in the same way? W-why is t-that?” 

“W-well! It’s like... um.. Sometimes.. I wish we were of onemind, you see?”

Had Illya been more aware, she’d have noticed the barely audible gasps from the other eavesdropping Vath, and the way Deftarm basically crumbles under the blatant confession he’d just made. 

But curse all her twelve for having her be born a natural nonmind, for being a lalafell, who could only assume his words to be borne out of a relapse of his own will.

“T-that’s not good! Are you hearing voices again?” She turns from frantic and nervous to heroic in an instant, and stomps her foot forward with a furrow of her brow. “Don’t listen to them, Deftarm! You are your own person!”

“No no! That’s.. not what I meant!” 

Illya’s already girded up, with a heavy scowl on her face and hands balled into fists ready to pound and fight at the injustice of the hive mind his kind have had to overcome and suffer through. And it would seem his best reassurances would only serve to worsen their misunderstanding.

“N-no, just.. forget I said anything, Illya!”

“Are you sure? If you start hearing voices again-”

“I assure you, I won’t.” Deftarm clucks in defeat, and his shoulders visibly slump. It does little to wipe the expression of worry off the girl’s face. 

How much easier would if be for him to get his heart across to her if they were of onemind? If they were able to share their thoughts, to hear the beating of each other’s hearts.. surely she’d understand thoroughly without him even having to utter a single word. 

But that was a fruitless dream, one of physical impossibility. He could only dream of them being of one heart. 

“W-well.. Just know... you’ll always be Vath Deftarm. You’re important to me, a-and I..I would never want to see you have your thoughts and feelings stripped away again.” Her face glows as she flashes him a radiant smile, and he finds himself blinded by the beautiful twinkle in her eyes. “Your mind and your heart are of your own. Nothing can change that.”

It’d certainly be nice to be of one mind with her, would that he could understand the depths of her sincerity and kindness, and learn for himself just what she truly thought of him if she too understood his feelings. 

But Illya was right, as she ever always is. If being of onemind would avail him naught, he just had to try a little harder to express his own feelings with his words and actions. 

[wonjaekook]

Kaleidoscope

A/N: I really meant to make this a happy take on the trope and not a depressing one… I guess I couldn’t help myself :’) also, always feel free to come to my ask box or reblog with input in the tags! I always welcome feedback, whether it’s compliments or criticism or anything in between.

21 Tropes: 7. Soulmate AU (colors) + coral w/Jungwoo

Description: Life is a kaleidoscope, with different colors and patterns appearing with each shake. Each moment is a new color added to the tube and, sometimes, it gets shaken too hard.

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: very brief sex mention, [SPOILERS] death mentions, terminal illness

Jungwoo has been told before that life is more beautiful in color. He always thought that everything he saw was like a kaleidoscope, but in black and white. He’s okay with that - black and white still mix to make a million shades of gray and he can still see glittering crystals and silvers in the tumbling shapes of life. “One day, you’ll find the one,” they always say. He knows they’re right and he’s never felt hopeless about finding the one, so he’s in no rush. He’s okay with the way he views the world right now.

But perhaps being able to see color would make the aquarium a little more interesting.

Right now, he’s not third-wheeling per se, but he’s one of the few people of his group of friends that can’t appreciate the colors of the various fish and lights and plants that fill the aquarium.  His friend, Lucas, was beyond excited to finally be able to see color after he met his soulmate last week, so he forced a bunch of people to come to the aquarium with him. To be perfectly honest, Jungwoo hadn’t completely thought it through when he agreed, but, now, standing in front of a large fish tank where he can barely tell the fish apart from each other, he’s more than a little antsy. Why couldn’t they have gone to a zoo where the animals are bigger and have more distinct patterns and shapes between them?

“Woo, I gotta call my girl so we can meet up, so I have to step out real quick. Be right back.” Jungwoo turns away from the tank when Lucas starts talking to him.

“‘kay. I’ll just be here.” From across the hall, Jungwoo can hear Mark eagerly explaining something to Haechan, one of the few others who also can’t see color yet, about one of the types of fish, but he can tell that the younger boy probably doesn’t care too much. He turns back to the exhibit in front of him.

He peers into the tank again, watching the many fish swim by. Then, through the glass, he sees someone on the other side. You’re not unattractive to look at at all and you seem to have a kind, friendly face, so he smiles and waves when you make eye contact and you give him a shy wave back, face warming from the attention of a stranger. He tears his eyes away and looks back into the tank, observing the many types of coral at the bottom. Out of the corner of his eye, he swears he sees the flash of a color that isn’t grey. Looking over, he spots a piece of coral glowing what he would later find out is a pinkish-orange under the fluorescent light. Confused, he looks closer and suddenly, the world is bursting into color around him.

The fish become distinguishable not just by shape and pattern, but by their color differences both large and subtle, with descriptions on the outside of the tank to match. The light inside the tank glows blue and he steps away from it, looking around at everything that had suddenly come to life. He doesn’t want to blink for the risk of it being some trick of the mind, but when he does, all of the color is still there, wrapping the world in a sort of warmth and cold and shallowness and depth that he had never imagined possible. In the past, he had tried to imagine what this would be like, but nothing in his wildest daydreams could have come close to what it really feels like.

Suddenly, he’s remembering the cause and whipping back around to face the tank. At the same time, he sees your blurry figure turn towards him through the glass and water, the same bewildered expression on your face that he’s sure is on his. When you make eye contact again, you’re both rushing to the side of the tank, shouldering past people and ignoring the calls of your various friends as you run to each other.

You emerge from around the side of the tank and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful. Both of you rush forward, barely stopping yourselves from barreling into the other. Without much thinking, you’re holding each other’s hands. Now, you’re paying more attention to the way his eyes look in this light than to the fact that the world just blossomed in front of you not even a minute ago.

“Hi,” he breathes, barely breathing because he’s afraid that the magic will somehow diminish or scatter. “I’m Jungwoo. Kim Jungwoo.”

“(L/N) (Y/N).” You can hardly say back, your body so numb with the buzzing emotions and colors and everything that you’re experiencing for the first time. His hands in yours hold a type of warmth that you’ve never felt before and every look, every touch sends your heart beating faster and your skin tingling in the most pleasant way. Even though you’ve never met him before now, you feel like you’ve known him for ages. Without a doubt in your mind, you know he’s your forever.

When he had hardly paid any attention to it before, he can really feel his heart beat in his chest now. He feels like he’s awake and dreaming all at the same time, looking at you, holding your hands in his. Your hands, the hands of a person so strange to him but closer to his heart than anyone else. Your hands, that he’s touching for the first time now but that he’ll be able to hold for the rest of his life. The strings of your hearts have finally met, connected, and each second you’re together, he’s certain that they’re intertwining further. Forever had been such a lost, foreign concept to him before, but now he knows what it feels like. This, you, are the first step to his forever.

Life is a palette of colors for the two of you to choose from, to paint onto your very own canvas. Each color is a piece to be added into the kaleidoscope, where you’ll see something new every time you shake it and look in. That day, when your hearts finish aligning and you can finally think clearly again, the two of you agree to discover the shades of the world together. You both think that the colors of the rainbow would be the best place to start.

So, when he thinks of red, he thinks of the first time he saw the autumn leaves with you.

It was a couple months into meeting you. You had met in the late summer, when everything was in full bloom, so it’s no surprise that neither of you had ever experienced the changing of the leaves before. The day before, you had been walking past the park when you saw the most brilliantly red tree and you knew you had to share it with him.

“I can’t believe you saw it without me first,” he whines, but lets you tug him along.

“Oh, hush. I can’t help what I see when I walk home from work. Besides, I’m showing you now, right?” He can’t deny that you’re right, but he also can’t help but wish that you had shared that first together anyways.

Yet, as the tree comes into sight and the two of you stop underneath it to stare up into the canopy, the sunlight shines between the fiery red leaves, dappling your face and cascading it in shades of warm colors. As he looks at you, the disappointment at you having seen the tree first without him fades into an internal warmth that makes him realize that this will be the memory of leaves and autumn and redness that will stand out to both of you, not that first glance. In his mind, he fills in the color red with this memory and the way you looked smiling up at the glowing fall leaves.

When he thinks of orange, he thinks of the sunset he saw coming out of the aquarium with you, and every other and sunset the two of you go out of your way to experience together.

There would have been no way for anyone to properly prepare either of you for the way that first sunset looked. The two of you stop, staring at the horizon. All things considered, it isn’t that remarkable of a sunset, but, to the two of you, it’s the most amazing sunset that there ever was. Your grip on his hand tightens more and more as you look on, but he doesn’t mind. The two of you stand there, on the steps leading out of the aquarium, staring at the sunset until all sunlight slips out of view. The first space he fills in is the color orange, where he thinks of the many shades of the sunset and the tightness of your hand in his.

When he thinks of yellow, he thinks of the field of sunflowers he took you to on your second date.

The date idea was Taeil’s - he was always one of the romantics of the group and was more than happy to give Jungwoo advice, especially once he told him about their idea of experiencing colors together. Haechan had overheard and laughed, but Jungwoo took you there the next day anyways. When the two of you arrive, the sight is beyond anything that he had ever expected, with the rolling fields of flowers continuing for what seemed like miles. He looks at you and you’re just as enamored, soaking in the sight of so much yellow and life around you. He fills in the color yellow with the sunflower petals that you had accidentally scattered in his backseat on the way home, too eager to bring too many of the large flowers home. Though it isn’t really a color, he also fills in yellow with the sunniness of your smile that day.

When he thinks of green, he thinks of the matcha drink that you get whenever you go to your favorite coffee shop.

Any time you’re having a rough day and need a pick-me-up, he stops by that cafe and gets one for you, along with a pastry. At first, you had resisted him buying you things, but when he wouldn’t relent, you eventually just let him. In exchange, whenever he wakes up a bit too late or spends a little too long on his hair in the morning, you bring him a cup of his favorite coffee, or, if he skips lunch, you bring him a sandwich from a deli down the street that he likes. After a couple of months, the barista at the coffee shop knows Jungwoo almost as well as he knows you and the owner of the deli has become familiar with your face and cheery noon disposition. Your favorite coffee shop quickly becomes his favorite as well and your respective coworkers who witness the alternating exchanges of beverages or food every few days coo at your relationship. He’s dubbed “The Boyfriend” and you’re “The Girlfriend.” He thinks that, though he might not have all of your orders memorized just yet, he’ll eventually know all of them. Because matcha is the first that he commits to memory, he fills in that shade of green with it.

When he thinks of blue, he thinks of the bright sky above and the chipping paint of the inside of the pool that you fell into in your first summer together.

After almost a year of knowing each other, you were more than comfortable joking around and revealing skin. So, at Johnny’s pool party, he should have known that you wouldn’t back down from his taunt to push him in. His reflexes are fast enough that he catches your wrist as he falls, pulling you into the water with him. Your cry of surprise and the sound of the outside world is cut off as you’re both submerged. Opening your eyes, you see a blurry image of his face surrounded by the blue of the paint on the bottom of the pool, his hair swirling around him. Your wrist is still in his hand, so, underwater, he pulls you closer to him to press a quick kiss to your lips. You nearly laugh out loud at him, some bubbles escaping your lips, and he releases your hand so the two of you can resurface. He closes his eyes, the sting of the chlorine becoming too much, and swims back to the surface, taking a breath as he emerges. Blinking the water out of his eyes, his vision eventually clears and he sees you staring up, taking in the bright blue, cloudless sky above. He finds himself staring up with you, water droplets cascading down your body in sync with his. In his head, he fills in blue with the paint on the bottom of the pool and the color of the sky reflected in your eyes.

When he thinks of indigo, he thinks of the forgotten color of the day bleeding into the night that he didn’t realize was there until you pointed it out to him one night.

By the time you’ve known each other for three months, he thinks that he has seen enough sunsets that he would be able to flawlessly describe every color in one. But, when you’re sitting on the roof of your apartment building together one night and you point up at the sky, you surprise him once again.

“Look,” you say, arm extended, “see that color there?”

“I think you have to be a little more specific than that,” he says back, trying to follow the line your hand is making.

“That indigo. It’s so cool that that’s the only thing separating night from day. It’s not quite blue but not quite violet. People always forget about it.” You lower your arm back to your side, cuddling closer to his side. “I think I really like that color.”

After that, he makes sure to find the indigo in every sunset, filling in the box with that in-between color, making sure not to forget it.

When he thinks of violet, he thinks of the pin in your hair, holding it back when he just wants to tuck it behind your ear for you.

Once he gets comfortable enough with you, he occasionally plucks the pin out of your hair so that he can play with it more easily, stroking it when you put your head in his lap. He lets you put the pins in his hair, making it stick up in funny ways in return. Sometimes, he hides your bobby pins just because he wants to see your hair falling loosely and naturally from your head. You know he does that. You don’t mind. Somewhere along the way, after seeing you wear it so much, he associates the color violet with you, coloring it in with the shade of your hair pin.

He can’t decide if his favorite color is the pinkish-orange coral he saw when he first met you or if it’s the rosy blush that covers your cheeks when he makes you laugh. Maybe it’s the hazy gold glow you get after sex, or the deepest color in your eyes that he has to really get close to see, or the bright red color of the little matching string bracelets both of you wear, or the dark green of the spider plant you picked out to put in your apartment and was the first thing you took care of together, or your favorite violet nail polish that you put on because it matches your pin and you like the way your fingers look intertwined with his, or the baby blue of the shirt you were wearing when you first told him you loved him. Every time he’s with you, his eyes open more and the strings of your hearts fully entangle, woven tighter with each color you experience together.

But, the more colors there are in the kaleidoscope, the easier it is to make you dizzy with a single twist. The colors start to blend together and what used to be so easy to pick out and associate with good feelings becomes overwhelming. The patterns that appear start to become so scary that you almost wish you hadn’t looked into the other end of the tube at all.

No matter how hard he wants to believe it, not all of life is beautiful and good. Nothing, not even something planned by the universe itself, lasts forever. The colors slowly start to twist and what was once sweet becomes bitter in his mouth.

Now, when he thinks of red, he thinks of the blood you coughed up in your second year together. You wished, he wished, everyone you knew wished that it would be any easy diagnosis, like you coughed too hard or something. It was just the beginning.

When he thinks of orange, he remembers the glossy paper hospital bracelet around your wrist. It’s almost constantly there - a beating, harsh orange that stands out against your skin at all times. He just has to look down at your wrist to remember where you spend so much of your time now.

When he thinks of green, he doesn’t think about the matcha drink that used to be your favorite, but you can’t stomach at all now. Instead, he thinks of the slight tinge to your skin when the nausea is about to overcome you and he has to stand over you in the bathroom, holding back your hair while poison rushes through your system and you vomit all sorts of colors that shouldn’t be coming out of someone who should be healthy.

When he thinks of the blue, he thinks of the glowing light in the corner of your hospital room, where he can’t fall asleep in the chair next to your bed and can only watch as your body falls apart. He spends as much of his time there as he can and though the room is mostly barren white, the blankness is almost relieving. The little blue light is one of the few spots of color and he can’t help but stare at it, trying to remember the feelings that came with the range of colors you experienced together. When the barista at the cafe had known him well before, now the nurses and doctors know him even better. The looks of happiness are replaced with those of pity.

When he thinks of indigo, he thinks of the ink that runs when your tears hit it, blurring the words of your diagnosis together. You don’t want to leave him. You don’t want to leave him alone in a world without color and without the other half of his heart. You don’t want to go. All he can do is hold you and wipe away your tears, even though all he wants to do is fall apart with you. You do enough crying for both of you, but that doesn’t stop him from shedding a few tears of his own later, sitting in that stark white hospital room, staring at the little blue light in the corner.

When he thinks of violet, he thinks of the pin that you used to wear, but can’t anymore because your hair has thinned out and you’re afraid that if you touch the strands too roughly, they’ll break. He thinks of the veins that stand out too harshly under your skin, which has lost so much of its color. He thinks of the place where the sunset blends into the night that is supposed to look indigo but is filtered through the window that changes the way the colors outside look, which you can barely see from your hospital bed anyways.

When he thinks about seeing the brilliant autumn leaves, he can’t imagine seeing them without you.

The orange of the sunset is no longer quite so orange and he knows that, soon, he won’t be able to tell the sunrise and sunset apart.

The field of bright yellow sunflowers isn’t so sunny, especially as winter begins to creep in. He wants to feel that warm, bright memory again, but he knows he can’t.

He barely goes home enough to see the dark green spider plant that you bought together, but somewhere at the back of his mind, he knows it’s wilting from lack of care. It’s the least important wilting thing he has to see now.

The baby blue sweater is tucked away in your closet somewhere, which he hasn’t touched since you went to the hospital because he knows you’ll be frustrated with him if anything is messed up when you get back, even though he knows you’re not coming back.

Watching the sunset was something that was meant for the two of you, so, when he had promised not to, he begins to forget what that shade between blue and violet, day and night, dark and light is. He doesn’t want to remember indigo if it’s not with you.

He puts your favorite purple violet nail polish out of sight in the bathroom so that he doesn’t have to look at it and be reminded every time he comes home to an empty house without you holding his hand, with you stuck at the hospital which he knows will be the last place he ever sees you.

Life is a kaleidoscope and after shaking it so hard, the colors have started to blend together and make both of you too dizzy to look anymore. He knows it’ll blend it black and white again, but he doesn’t care about that. You’re the stars in his eyes and the magic in the air and everything beautiful about the world.

And he’s going to lose you.

If he had to decide, he would say his favorite color is the pinkish-orange of the coral that he saw when he first met you, before you were shaken too hard and began to fall apart.

[luxexhomines]

DR2 boys reactions to S/O who is staring at them with a goofy smile and when they ask what’s up, S/O shrugs and says “I’m just wondering how I got so lucky to call you my boyfriend.”

Hi, I love this prompt! Although it’s not word for word (I also changed the phrase a bit for each time because I got tired of writing the same thing), it’s still a super sweet thought and it was fun to write. I cranked out Hajime & Nagito at a different time from the rest, which I did today. Lengths kind of vary because I was trying really hard to get this done and do at a quality I can still be proud of.

Also, an announcement! I will no longer be taking requests with character counts of 8 or above. I would like to recommend you maximize your requests from 4-6 characters in the future; current requests with 8 characters will remain at 8, however. It’s because I can’t handle so many characters with one prompt when I use the style I do to write, and because this is my personal side blog, I don’t want to compromise my writing style. 

Here you are, under the cut! It’s kind of long altogether.

SDR2 Boys x S/O “I’m just wondering how I got so lucky to have you as my boyfriend.”

Hajime Hinata

Your arms resting on the white island table as you sat on the bar stool, you watched him come in from the door and put down an armful of bags.

“Phew, it sure is cold outside,” he commented. And upon seeing you sitting there, he laughs. “But you’ve been nice and toasty in here, huh?”

You nod as you watch him take off his winter coat, hanging it up and putting it in the closet carefully along with a long, green scarf that was previously wrapped around his neck. He was a rather organized and careful person, after all. He rarely just left things sitting around, even if you might be more prone to just throwing the coat on the couch and running off to do something else.

“Are you hungry, s/o?” he asked, turning toward you and walking to the island table, leaning down and resting his arms on the countertop in a similar fashion as you, folded across each other.

His face came surprisingly close when he did so, and you blushed slightly before replying.

“A bit. What should we make for lunch?”

He smiles.

“Of course. Well, why don’t you leave it up to me for today? I have an idea in mind that I’d like to try out,” he says. “But don’t blame me if it goes wrong.”

You tilt your head slightly, smiling right back at him.

“Never. I’ll be glad to eat whatever you make, even if it turns out to be a plate of black ashes,” you chuckle. As he walks to the refrigerator and starts pulling out ingredients, he answers you, sounding mock-offended.

“Please have more faith in me than that. I can cook at a fairly mediocre level,” he responds.

He starts cooking, chopping up vegetables and putting the white rice in to cook, with a green-brown apron tied around his waist. The two of you chat for a bit as you watch him cook earnestly, sometimes looking online to check if he’s doing things right, and then he sets down the dishes on the table along with two bowls of white, steaming rice.

You grab two pairs of chopsticks and place them at each of your spots, sitting down as he does.

He claps his hands together.

“Well then, let’s eat!”

He starts digging into his meal rather vigorously, and dazed, you watch him, a silly smile stretching wide across your face. He looks up, bewildered.

“Aren’t you going to eat, s/o? If you stare at me like that, I’m going to lose my appetite,” he jokes, but he does look slightly flustered.

You shake your head dreamily, looking him straight in the eye.

“No, I will… I was just wondering how I got so lucky to be able to call you my boyfriend.”

He abruptly swallows whatever was in his mouth and almost starts choking, coughing intensely and sputtering. You bring him a glass of water and rub his back in concern.

“Are you okay, Hajime?”

His coughing finally ceases, and he looks up at you with a red face and embarrassed smile. “I’m fine. At least, I think I will be. Being around you isn’t good for my heart,” he laughs.

You smirk.

“Well, best get used to it. I’m going to stick around you for the rest of our lives, or as long as you let me,” you smile, placing a kiss on his cheek, which rapidly deepens in hue as you do so.

Nagito Komaeda

When you got to the subway station where the two of you had agreed to meet up, Nagito was already there, sitting on a bench and calmly awaiting your arrival.

You waved as you jogged over, huffing slightly.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I had to bring this kid to the police station because he was lost.”

Nagito smiles, standing up and stretching his long limbs.

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine. I haven’t been waiting long. Shall we go?”

You nod before linking your arm around his, ready to traverse below and take a subway to the mall.

“Mhm! Let’s go,” you cheer, throwing your other arm up as he chuckles at your giddiness.

The subway was extremely packed, but having Nagito around was pretty lucky because even though he’s thin, he’s rather tall and can act as a bit of a guard between you and other passengers. The two of you exchanged amiable looks in silence since it wouldn’t do to disturb the other passengers.

Then the subway lurched, and you fell forward, face-planting into Nagito’s chest. You somehow manage to peel yourself off of him in a timely manner, blushing.

“S-Sorry, Nagito… The subway’s a bit shakier than usual today, huh?”

He nods, and although he appears rather calm, you spot a red tint on his ears.

“Oh, it’s fine. It sure is.”

Nagito doesn’t get easily flustered, so seeing him be flustered is only making you more flustered as your cheeks warm further, and you avert your gaze toward the ground shyly.

When you arrive at the mall, the two of you spend the entire day window-shopping, trying on clothes and have lunch together as well. It felt like time went by in a flurry, as it usually did when you spent time with him.

At the end of the day, the subway was comparatively empty as the two of you sat side by side. Across from you, the seats were empty, and you could see Nagito’s reflection. His fluffy, creamy white hair was slightly bouncing with the motion of the subway, and his lips were spread in a casual smile. You turned to look at him directly. After all, the real thing was infinitely better than a reflection in darkness.

You trailed your gaze over his handsome features, his pale skin…and then he turned to look at you.

“Something wrong? Is there perhaps something on my face?” he wondered, his green eyes meeting yours.

You shake your head, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips uncontrollably.

“No… I was thinking about how I possibly got this lucky, to have you as my boyfriend.”

He stares at you in utter shock for a moment, before his face relaxes into the same charismatic smile, and he chuckles.

“My, you always manage to surprise me with the unbelievably sweet things you say… I’m the one who’s lucky to have you, after all,” he says adoringly, putting a hand to your cheek gently. “You can’t even begin to imagine how lucky I am.”

You laugh and lean in give him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, I think I could… After all, I have you.”

Kazuichi Souda

You peek in the doorway, and you spot Kazuichi in his garage, fiddling with a large object of which most of it is under wraps.

“Kazuichi?” you call.

He stands up quickly, almost falling over from the dizziness resulting from the adjustment in height.

“Whoa! Oh, s/o, you’re here!” he waves happily.

You nod and jog over carefully, making sure not to step on anything important, and give him a hug.

“I sure am. Are you ready?”

He adopts a pensive look and then glances back.

“Well… Almost, to say the least.”

Well, it wasn’t like the two of you had made some kind of dinner appointment out.

“Okay, you can finish that up first, then,” you beam.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t want to keep you waiting,” he says, but as he does so, he throws another worried look at whatever it was he was working on.

“Nah. All I ask is that you let me sit here and watch you work.”

He lights up.

“That’s all? Sure thing! You can watch anytime,” he says, giving you a thumbs up before returning to work.

To his credit, he finishes relatively fast, and you find yourself enamored as he takes a rag and wipes the sweat and grease from his face, letting out his breath, and then turns toward you with a sharp smile.

“Okay, I think I’m all done! Shall we go out?”

When you don’t respond after a couple of seconds have passed by, he trots over.

“S/O?”

You feel yourself wake from zoning out into his face.

“Oh! Sorry,” you reply sheepishly.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks curiously.

You reply rather automatically.

“You.”

His cheeks are looking a little pink now.

“W-What about me?” he laughs awkwardly. “Is it unattractive, me being covered in sweat and grease like this from work? I can go shower.”

He starts toward the door, but you’re quick to shake your head.

“No, that’s not it,” you object fiercely. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to call you my boyfriend.”

He stops mid-step, and his jaw unhinges and then closes. The process repeats many times as you watch him overheat like one of his machines once did. Only he visibly turns red.

“I-I,” he stutters. “I’m just as lucky to have you,” he finally replies, looking bashful and smiling back shyly. You liked this side of him, too, and you pecked his cheek lightly.

“Thanks, Kazuichi.”

He’s unable to leave the garage for some time longer since he’s overheated and malfunctioned.

Gundham Tanaka

It was time for your weekly session with Gundham, grooming and caring for the animals you had grown to love almost as much as Gundham. After all, there was nothing that could possibly surpass your love for your boyfriend.

You combed through the bunny’s soft fur gently, carefully. Gundham was beside you, handling his four Dark Devas and cleaning their fur.

“Be still, Cham-P!” he declares.

You look up for a moment to see Cham-P plop his furry little tush on the sink obediently, and stifle a giggle. Gundham’s relationship with his animals was as peachy as ever.

For a moment, you let yourself just look at your boyfriend for a bit. One of the benefits of caring for the animals with him was that you got to spend extra time with him and looking after him, whether he knew it or not. You also got to see more sides of him. A tender smile sometimes comes to his face as he cares for the animals, one that you wish you could save your brain infinitely. But perhaps it’s how fleeting it is that contributes to its beauty.

All of sudden, he turns, and you notice that he’s blushing a bit.

“Is something the matter? I have been feeling your gaze resting upon my bodily incarnation for some time now.”

You shake your head, trying not to laugh. The way he talked, too, was simply too adorable.

“No, nothing’s the matter,” you say, grinning widely. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you as my boyfriend.”

You swear you don’t see him breathe or move for a moment, and Cham-P fidgets under his unmoving hands. Then, like the red of a thermometer rises, Gundham’s face colors a deep shade of red, and he pulls his scarf up, turning away.

“Y-You flatter me… Although I admit that I am above mortals, your words are too good, even for someone as great as I,” he states, stammering nervously.

You move a step closer, and then slowly wrap your arms around him from behind.

“Nothing is too good for you, Gundham,” you say sweetly, and feel his body temperature rise in kind.

Nekomaru Nidai

“Alright! We’re done for today,” Nekomaru bellows. “Time for a break! And then we can head home for dinner.” He takes a towel from the bench and offers it to you, which you gratefully take to wipe away your excess sweat.

“Thanks, Nekomaru,” you smile, and he chuckles.

“No problem! You did well in training today,” he remarks, looking pleased–with himself or with you, you’re not sure. Perhaps both.

You hang the towel around your neck.

“Thanks again,” you say, and tilt your head as you look at his stature. Sometimes you wondered if you were really making progress, but if Nekomaru was saying so as your coach, you knew you could trust his words. Of course, he was your boyfriend too, so you knew he wouldn’t lie to you either way. Not that he would condone lying in other situations, though. You rambled on and on in your head, thinking about Nekomaru and the training that just ensued.

Then you snapped back to attention and watched him down at least half a water bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. The rest of it, he capped and put into his training bag.

Noticing your stare, he met your gaze.

“What’s up? Is something on my face?” he pats his face, appearing concerned.

A smile forms on your lips.

“Nope, not at all. I was just wondering how I got so lucky as to have you as my boyfriend,” you admit innocently.

He’s still for a moment, and although it makes absolutely no logical sense, you fear that he might be mad. And then he leans over and sweeps you into a huge bear hug, guffawing, and you feel his chest shaking with laughter against your own.

“What a wonderful thing to say! I’m just as–no, more lucky to have you with me,” he announces, squeezing you tightly.

Let’s just say that it’s a while before you’re put back down on solid ground.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

You’re sitting in a restaurant, face-to-face with Fuyuhiko, and the two of you have just finished ordering.

“Fuyuhiko, should we get dessert afterward?” you wonder, putting a finger to your chin thoughtfully.

He shrugs, looking apathetic, but you surely know better.

“Up to you. I don’t really care,” he replies, looking away.

You clap your hands together.

“Okay, then dessert it is!”

He sighs, resting his chin in his hand as he leans against the table.

“You’re almost obnoxiously cheerful today. Should I even ask?”

You simply laugh.

“Ah, maybe you’re just in an abnormally bad mood?” you joke.

For a moment, you think you see a faint smile, and then it dissolves into the lines of his face.

“Seriously, though. What’s got you so happy today?” he asks, his gold eyes piercing yours.

You can’t stop yourself from smiling.

“You wanna know? Guess, guess!” you sing, wiggling in your seat a little, to which he lets out a combination of a groan and a sigh.

“Now I’m wondering if I really want to know. Are you going to harp on about it forever to me once I find out?”

You shake your head.

“No, because it’s self-explanatory!”

Now he looks slightly curious, and his chin raises slightly in the palm of his hand.

“Okay, just tell me already, then.”

A silly, toothy smile appears on your face, and your eyes narrow in affection.

“I was just wondering how I got this lucky, to be able to call you my boyfriend.”

Fuyuhiko looks taken aback, more so than you’ve ever seen him. His eyebrows have raised to almost a comical point, and he’s silent for a couple seconds. Then, you hear him answer quietly–so you can barely hear.

“Not as lucky as I am, being able to have you with me.”

But, in classic Fuyuhiko style, he doesn’t repeat those words, and your orders arrive, interrupting your interrogation. It was too bad, but you figured once was already an unexpected gift, as was spending time with him like usual. You really were lucky.

Teruteru Hanamura

You woke up to the sunlight filtering in the cracks of the blinds, and you rolled out of bed, smelling something sweet and savory from the kitchen.

Following the scent, you came to the kitchen to see your boyfriend serving a plate of pancakes and a plate of omelets filled with spinach, cheese, tomatoes, and other delicious toppings.

“Teruteru?” you say. “You made breakfast?”

He turns toward you, putting down the plates and pan, smiling.

“Yup! Come have some before it gets cold.”

You walk over, still slightly sleepy, and plop down in your seat, slouching. Somehow, you manage a spoonful of omelet, and you suddenly feel incredibly energized, straightening up and continuing to finish your serving.

“That was just as good as usual,” you comment. “Although, I think you did something different. Did you change some of the spices again?”

You sniff.

And he confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm! You’re as sharp as usual, s/o.”

You nod proudly. Even if you couldn’t cook like him, at least you had the taste buds to appreciate and discern in cooking.

“I’m lucky to be able to sample all your cooking and various experiments,” you reply happily. “I wouldn’t have half as much to think about when I eat without you, and your influence actually makes me think more inquisitively about all kinds of things–not just cooking.”

He strolls over and places a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m glad you think so,” he smiles, and you can see his genuine joy on his round face. Your boyfriend is pretty cute–when he wants to be, at least, and isn’t trying too hard. He starts eating his portion at the table too, but when he realizes you’ve been staring at him for a while, he stops and looks up at you.

“What’s up? Are you too enchanted by me to look away?” he jokes.

You smile back.

“Kind of. Just wondering how I got so lucky to have you as my boyfriend,” you say as you offer him an appreciative look.

He almost chokes on his food, but downs a glass of water and doesn’t appear to be suffering afterward.

“I did not expect that answer,” he says, looking almost worn-out. But he appears equal parts thankful. “I’m lucky to have you, though, s/o. Never forget that,” he proclaims, blushing slightly and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Byakuya Twogami (The Ultimate Imposter)

The two of you are walking back to your house, and the sun is setting rapidly, weaving a quilt of warm colors across the sky; orange, pink, and purple are its main colors of choice.

He moves relatively quick but you notice that whenever the two of you are walking together, he tends to slow down for you, which you greatly appreciate. It’s little things like that that always make you realize how considerate he truly is, despite his prideful and aloof demeanor.

You reach out and grab his hand, which is soft and warm, and he looks at you. He’s known you were watching him for a while now but didn’t feel the need to address it until you had acted on it.

“Something the matter?” he asks, pushing his glasses up with the other hand stoically.

You shake your head, smiling contentedly

“Nope. Just thinking about how lucky I am to be able to call you my boyfriend,” you reply, gently squeezing his hand.

He turns his gaze back to the road, and you spot a bit of pink on his plump cheeks as his grip on your hand tightens ever-so-slightly.

“…That’s a nice thought,” he states.

He says nothing more, but you hear what he doesn’t say. He’s just as grateful to have you by his side as you are to have him with you.

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 22: 1x03 Where No Man Has Gone Before

Today, the second pilot, aka Kirk fights his ex-boyfriend, the superhuman space mutant.

Whaaaaat TV screen by the chess set? That’s such a funny transition for me for some reason.

Spock thinks he can win lol. I love that he’s sassy from the start. And throwing shade at Sarek, which is how I choose to interpret “my ancestor married a human woman” when he very well knows it’s his dad.

“Materializer.”

For a moment, I thought Spock was of a lower rank but then I realized the pilot uniforms only showed three different ranks so who even knows.

I’m barely even paying attention to the plot, I’m too distracted by the outfits and the banter.

Are you certain you don’t know what irritation is, Mr. Spock????? Are you SURE?

THIS ELEVATOR SCENE IS STILL MY FAVORITE IN THE WHOLE SERIES. Kirk is so obviously in love with Spock already, like just the way he looks at him??? And Gary is bitter. Did you finish your GAME GUYS? How was the GAME?? You like that CHESS?

Lol at Kirk’s microphone. I love how different the pilot is and how much more obvious the differences are because it’s sci fi. (Their screen/windshield is also hilarious for some reason? It looks very fake.)

Sulu is head of astrophysics?? Really got a demotion there. This needs to be a thing in fic though, somehow.

Kirk is so brave. Gonna explore this weird space thing to save future space travelers.

New drinking game: take a shot every time there’s a random shot of Kirk looking beautiful.

My mother asked if Gary was hoping he could hold Kirk’s hand when the alien force field attacks and I said yes. Dig it in there Mr. Kirk.

Kirk and Spock flying the ship.

Sulu looking gorgeous.

Some gratuitous k/s arm grabbing.

Love how they show the ship has no warp by having it move really slowly across the screen. But actually--completely underrated problem that I forgot about it what with the whole Gary God Complex thing--if you have no warp capabilities you are stranded for real.

It took me a suuuuuper long time to figure out why most esper people died and two became supermutants. The force field targeted the most susceptible but was too much for most of them.

Also I love how the force field was just literally never explained. It just is. Nor was it explained that that other ship was, which Kirk seemed to think shouldn’t have been in deep space in the first place.

I can’t believe Dehner is telling a literal alien “this is how this thing is and there’s only one version of the thing and these are the limits.” Like??? He has all sorts of abilities you don’t know about? Why do you assume that things as they have been observed on Earth are the only way things can be, especially outside Earth? When you are talking to someone whose very existence would be impossible by your measure?

Looking at medbay, can’t help but feel that McCoy really spruced up the joint.

Gary rearranging himself just so for Jim’s entrance.

I legitimately don’t know what “this long hair stuff you like” is. I was born in 1988 so, that’s my excuse.

A STACK OF BOOKS WITH LEGS

IN LT. KIRK’S CLASS YOU THINK OR SINK.

Kirk is giving Gary those “I love you” eyes. They’re exes. Clearly.

I mean “I outlined her whole campaign for her”? First, putting unnecessary characters into a story because the short version is homosexual is ITSELF homosexual and second--that’s very gay on its face.

Kirk is clearly trying to be the Cool Ex (and, uh, boss) and Gary’s still bitter. “Friend Captain.”

No privacy on the Enterprise I see.

“The one you used to know,” Spock says, clearly jealous.

Love poem from 1996--so ancient.

Imo Spock is glad for this opportunity to shade Gary Mitchell openly. Finally, I can tell Jim my real thoughts: we should kill him.

Dr. Dehner is awfully enamored of this whole “new kind of human” thing given that she must have some knowledge of Earth history, including, you know, the horrifically deadly WWIII fought over exactly this idea but w/e.

Sulu bringing the math.

Spock saying “Jim” again. He definitely actually does this a lot? Maybe later he pulls himself back on purpose on account of Too Many Feelings.

D E L T A V E G A .

Forgot they poached that name. Should have kept it a mining planet. I wonder if it is supposed to be the same place and if Ambassador Spock was thinking about Gary while he was there.

“You’re talking about Gary!” This Kirk and Spock scene is really good too. Just about as good as the elevator scene. I literally cannot read this through anything other than the “ex and future boyfriend” lens and it makes it so much better. (Not that it’s not a good story on its face because it is. But just like the additional layers??)

“Our task: maroon my ex-boyfriend on this abandoned planet.” They’ve known each other 15 years.

Kirk and Spock taking Gary down.

That is 100% a drawing taken from the cover of a 50s sci fi novel.

Spock is so ridiculously, comically armed. Pacifist who? They keep on saying he doesn’t have feelings and yet ALL I see are feelings. Arming himself to the teeth for Jim. Clearly bitter about Jim’s feelings for Gary. Ready to thrown down all the time.

RIP Kelso. Good thing he got that commendation.

“Command and compassion is a fool’s mixture.”

“Don’t wake up Spock until I’m gone or he’ll follow me.” True.

Just Jim and his ridiculous weapon now, off to ruin Gary’s date.

Kirk and Spock would love all these flowers.

“You were a psychiatrist once--ten minutes ago.”

“Did you hear him joke about compassion?” I know the powers corrupted Gary but...did they do all the corrupting? Or did they just allow him to say some stuff he really means?

That “phaser rifle” looks like a supersoaker. (Mom: it probably is.)

Gary claims to know Jim so well but he doesn’t even know his middle name.

He’s so dramatic. SO DRAMATIC. Calling Jim “James” all the time; clearly his personal name for him when they were together. Whereas Jim continues to call him by his last name, which is funny.

And then Spock sees Jim is about to get sad and makes sure to come right over. “I felt for him too,” he admits, reluctantly.

It’s weird how much more dated this ep looks imo. Like I strongly maintain that even on the basis of style TOS ages very well (better than TNG which is 90s to the hilt), but this one looked very...50s/60s sci fi. Not in a bad way, just in a very obvious way. I feel like even the Enterprise looks a lot different after the pilot, in ways I can’t really explain or describe or pinpoint. It’s just subtly.... more unique. More real.

Mom and I were discussing where this fits in the timeline. She thinks early 5 year mission, which is what I’ve always assumed...but I’m bothered by how 99% of the crew is different. So now I’m thinking, like, pre-5 year mission? Maybe like a short mission? This is Kirk’s first command, maybe they sent him out for like a year first. It doesn’t explain how Gary and Spock have “worked together for years” but Dehner could have been wrong about that, or she could have meant they both have 15 years + in Starfleet.

The AOSverse should have rebooted Mitchell instead of Khan and that’s all I’m saying about that but it’s true.

I have always assumed Gary is First Officer in this ep but I don’t remember it actually being mentioned and now I’m wondering if we’ve all just collectively made that up.

Next up is the absolute classic The Naked Time. Maybe I’ll find an opportunity to watch it in less than a week’s time?

[mcubernthal]

Frank Castle NSFW Alphabet

You can find this on my AO3 along with all my other fics (link in bio), or search #raewroteit.

A = Aftercare Aftercare and post-coital cuddling are very important to Frank. To him, they’re a part of the sexual act; he would never neglect or ignore someone after sex, no matter the context. He’s touch starved, so he’s going to take every moment of that tired bliss and use it to be as close to his partner as humanly possible, making sure they’re comfortable and feeling okay physically and mentally.

B = Body part Frank has never really thought about the parts of himself that he likes. Everything about his body reminds him of how dangerous he can be -- his hands and arms and chest. He’s all boxy and brute strength. Maybe his thighs are okay. He likes the way they ache after leg day and the way his partner loves getting themself off by rutting against the strong muscle.

As for his partner, there’s not a single part of their body that Frank isn’t totally enamored with. The swoop of their neck is the perfect place to bite, leaving marks that they’ll try to hide in the morning to no avail; their jaw is sharp and always ready for the kisses that Frank never fails to pepper across it; their chest is Frank’s favorite pillow; their hips were made for him to hold on to; their legs are soft and what’s between them is even better. Frank is completely obsessed with his partner’s body and making sure they feel as beautiful as they are.

C = Cum Frank isn’t typically one to be very fascinated with cum, so he doesn’t have a particular preference. It would really be up to his partner. He wouldn’t have any qualms with cumming inside them or in their mouth, but if their partner wanted it somewhere less vanilla, like on their chest or ass, Frank might need some convincing. He’s usually a pretty clean person, so this might gross him out a little. It would take some getting used to, but if Frank knows that his partner enjoys something, it’ll excite him too. Their pleasure turns him on more than anything.

D = Dirty Secret Frank has always wanted to have outdoor sex with his partner, but he’s too nervous to ask. It seems so outlandish to him -- so nasty and simply not his style, but he can’t push the idea of fucking his partner against a tree out of his head. He loves the outdoors and he loves his partner. Having them both at the same time would be heaven to him.

E = Experience To be honest, Frank isn’t the most experienced when it comes to sex. He lost his virginity in high school to his only serious girlfriend. Then there was Maria. Then that one night with Beth. And now his current partner. Sure, he’s had sex plenty of times, and he knows what he likes, but he hasn’t been with many people, so first experiences are often awkward and trying. But once he gets to know his partner, what they like and how they fit together, everything would be smooth between them.

F = Favourite Position Contrary to popular belief, Frank is the Softest man in the world and also a Bottom. His favorite positions are whichever ones allow maximum skin on skin. He wants to hold hands, kiss lips, squeeze thighs, and caress hips. He loves to have his partner on top and in control of their own pleasure.

G = Goofy For the most part, Frank is serious. But with someone he loves, he allows himself to be more vulnerable and simply enjoy the moment. Sex can be awkward, and Frank has no problem with laughing it off and moving on. He likes when his partner throws out jokes spoken through moans. They laugh out of breath, they smile into kisses. It’s love. It’s safe for him to be himself here.

H = Hair He’s a military man. Frank keeps himself well groomed, trimmed but never shaved.

I = Intimacy There is no one on this earth who values intimacy more than Frank Castle. Sex is really important to him — he’s in it for love and his partner’s gratification, not his own selfishness. Sex is intimacy in his book. He wants every time to be something special because he wants his partner to be able to feel exactly how much he loves them.

J = Jack Off Frank is used to long periods of time away from his significant other, so he (as most are) is well versed in the art of self stimulation. He’s not a huge fan, though. For the most part, Frank only jerks himself off when he’s stressed or in need of release. Of course, there are nights when his significant other is on his mind and he’s in no position to see them any time soon. On those occasions, he’s got plenty of mental images (and maybe some physical ones, too) of his partner to get him through the night.

K = Kink Listen. That’s just not who he is. It’s been said before: Frank gets off on satisfying his partner. If there’s something that they like or really want to try, Frank would love to do it for them. Anything that would make his partner happy will make him happy.

L = Location He’s an old fashioned kind of guy. Nothing screams romance like Frank picking up his partner bridal style and getting them to the bedroom. He likes the couch and sometimes even the kitchen table when things are more light. It doesn’t really matter to Frank where he is as long as it’s somewhere comfortable for his partner and they can be in private.

M = Motivation His partner. The way they smile and the way they pout when they’re not getting what they want and the way they don’t put up with any of his bullshit. Once Frank falls in love, he falls hard. That man is someone brand new when he’s with someone who makes him happy. It’s not hard to get Frank excited. Anytime his significant other does something that tugs at his heartstrings (literally every twelve minutes), he can be ready for action.

N = NO Obviously, if it’s not something that his significant other wants, he’s not gonna touch it with a ten foot pole. But for himself, Frank isn’t a fan of painful punishments for his partner or degradation in any form. It feels too similar to the things he did when Agent Orange had his team torturing and killing innocents. He doesn’t ever want to bring violence home to his lover.

O = Oral Everyone likes getting sucked off, but Frank’s kink for his partner’s satisfaction makes him prefer giving head. The way their hips arch up off the bed and he has to hold them down to keep his angle right, the soft sounds they make just as they near their climax, the way they wrap their thighs around his head to keep him there (as if he was going anywhere). He loves everything about it.

P = Pace While Frank is never too rough with his lover, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t he doesn’t know how to pace himself. He’s an expert in the art of the deep stroke and will never cease to remind his partner of it. Maybe he’s more vanilla and less adventurous in the bedroom, but he’s got his partner memorized to a T and will do everything that they’ll love every time.

Q = Quickie Frank doesn’t always have a lot of time on his hands. Between his partner’s fairly normal life and his own rather turbulent one, he doesn’t always have the time or energy to take them to bed as often as he would like. So a nice quickie before his partner goes to work in the morning or in the shower before he goes out for the night is good for the soul.

R = Risk Experimentation is one thing, but risks are another. Frank would try lots of things (albeit hesitantly) if his partner was intrigued by the idea. Risks, though, aren’t for Frank — not here. He wouldn’t touch them in public or risk getting caught by their friends. The most obvious reason for that is his being a wanted criminal, but more than that, he respects the dignity of his partner too much for it. Also, he’s a jealous son of a bitch and would shoot someone in the face if they were looking at his partner in a way that is designated for his eyes only.

S = Stamina Let’s be honest — Frank has acquired a lot of injuries throughout his adult life. These as well as his age and basically constant state of exhaustion all play a part in his stamina not being the most spectacular. He can last an average amount of time, but his partner shouldn’t expect multiple rounds in one sitting. Two times in one day has happened, but it was hours apart.

T = Toy Frank isn’t a huge toy enthusiast during his sexual encounters with his lover, but he does encourage them to have toys of their own for when he’s not around. Frank knows that he’s gone more often than not, and he wants to make sure that his significant other is being taken care of no matter what.

U = Unfair Although it’s not very often, when Frank teases, it’s not in an unfair way, but a playful one. Even so, he learned how to delay orgasms when he realized how much Maria liked it, so it’s something he’s comfortable with and pretty good at. He doesn’t see that as teasing, though — that’s a different thing entirely.

V = Volume Frank is not a particularly loud person — he doesn’t moan, exactly, he talks. He may not know much, but one thing he’s sure of is that his voice is sexy. The occasional grunt and growl would be punctuated with phrases of encouragement and pleasure. (Take it. Just like that. Fuck, you’re so good. Take me so good. Don’t even deserve you. Fuck, I love you.)

W = Wild Card Frank Castle is a goddamn teddy bear. After sex, he’s wrapped like a koala around his lover. He’s heavy and his grip is tight and he’s emitting so much body heat, but his partner doesn’t have it in their heart to tell him to move. This is Frank at his most vulnerable. It’s when he’s in this position that he’ll talk about anything — Maria and the kids, his own childhood, war stories. Anything that’s on his mind. Anything that his partner asks about. He feels so safe here.

X = X-Ray Everything about Frank Castle is big. His dick is no exception. He’s about average length but thick. And he knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning His sex drive isn’t too crazy — he’s getting older and he’s never been any kind of sex addict. But he can pretty much always find it in him to want it. Nine times out of ten, if his partner wants him, he feels the same way. If Frank’s at home all week, then they’re probably going three or four times.

Z = ZZZ There’s horror behind his eyes. Sleep never comes easy for Frank, and after sex is no exception. Exhausted as he may be, he finds it hard to rest. He’d rather hold his partner and talk with them until they fall asleep. Maybe he’ll be able to rest his eyes for a couple of hours.

[headlessartistblog-blog]

Post 1: On Poetics

Poetry, am I right? Who needs the stuff? Well, I do. I get paid to go to school for it. I’m not going to bore you with some longwinded introduction where I satisfy your checklist of things that constitute a reliable source because I know you don’t really care. Instead, I’ll direct you to a list of the top 5 most important things to keep in mind when reading and writing poetry (for all ages!). As you can see, they aren’t written on stone tablets, so feel free to disagree with anything I say here (if you do leave comments of dissent, please be kind enough to follow it up with a “because” for others who may be interested).  This is just my personal take from my experiences. Take what you will.

1. Your Poem Should Have Some Sort of Surprise or Insight (It Should Change You) 

What distinguishes a good poem from a great poem (or a good poem from a bad poem) is its transformative qualities. To put it simply, a great poem is a poem that truly changes you. You should leave the poem feeling that you’ve learned something about yourself or about the world. Not only will minding the transformative qualities of a poem help you assess others’ poetry, but it can also serve as a guide for your own endeavors.

When writing a poem, we sometimes find ourselves engaging with things (emotions, memories, ideas, art, etc.) that we don’t quite understand or can’t account for. Let us, for example, say we are writing a poem about something wholly original and not at all trite: love. Anyone who has ever been in love has felt the strange emotions that circumspect its comings and goings: euphoria, despair, infatuation, apathy, content, anxiety, reassurance, fear. Now, imagine trying to describe these emotions in a way that accurately conveys their essence; “I’m afraid” isn’t much of a poem (though the conciseness of T.S. Eliot’s “and in short, I was afraid” is quite striking).

The arrival of the surprise in poetry is the result of a successful engagement with the ambiguous and arduous. Put simply, you get the surprise by working through your thoughts and emotions on paper. Be aware that there is no way to foresee the arrival of the surprise. In fact, you might find that it’s in the first few lines you’ve written. Conversely, you might find that it takes weeks of writing or revision to arrive at some sort of insight. Regardless, you should leave the poem somehow changed.

Examples of Surprises:

The Archaic Torso of Achilles- Rilke

The Warning- Creeley

2. Let the Poem Be Its Own Guide (Don’t Force It)

A successful artist is an artistic who recognizes their art and works with it. Well, what the fuck does that mean? Much like every other art, intention often finds itself at odds with the poem. Intention essentially means the objective we bring to the table when we make art. A simple example: “I want to write a love poem.” Great! Everyone loves a good love poem. However, where most beginning poets -and experienced poets time and time again- stall is reconciling intention with output. By output, I simply mean what ends up on the page.

Imagine this: you’re writing your love poem and, suddenly, you find yourself writing about a box of photos you found in your grandmother’s attic. Well that just won’t work, will it? We’re trying to write a love poem! Not a poem about old pictures of your grandmother. What the sensible person would do is get back on track, cross out those inane lines and continue their trek of love. What the poet does is follow the trail of memory. The poem knows what it wants to be just as your intuition knows what the poem should be.

Perhaps one of the greatest struggles beginning poets tend to face is the seemingly sporadic nature of intuition. “This is what I want the poem to be! Why can’t I get it to do what I want?!” Well, uh, that’s because the poem is kind of like a person. I mean, it’s being written by a person based on that person’s experiences, and we all know human experience is anything but simple and linear. Trying to force a poem to do something is like trying to force a person to do something.

As artists, we often forget that our art is not always going to be in tandem with our goals and aspirations. That’s okay. In fact, it’s great! It keeps us from being indebted to our own egos. “Oh? You thought you were going to write the modern epic? No no no! You’re going to write about the hole in your shoe.” Additionally, who’s to say that love and the box of photographs are entirely unrelated? Love is a complex and multifaceted emotion. There are many kinds of love: romantic, sexual, familial, idealistic, etc. What the poem is trying to show you is the relationships between your love for a partner and your love for your grandmother. Let the art run its course.  

3. Avoid Clichés

This, in my opinion, can be a make it or break it for poetry (and all art). Nothing turns an audience off like being cliché (think dad-rock). Unfortunately, there’s no end to the barrage of hip, Instagram poetry that somehow passes as insightful and profound (@ Milk and Honey). I try not to sound like a pompous asshole as much as possible, but everybody has a line in the sand, and this is mine. Just don’t do it. Don’t be that person (poet).

For one, it’s contrived, and it’s obvious because you can’t tell the difference between any of the people writing the “poems.” Two, it takes little to no effort to write Instagram poetry:

Just because you’ve decided to

Stay inside doesn’t make you

Anything less.

Even the butterfly needs

Time alone to grow

 Truly inspired.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, there are other clichés that you’ll want to avoid. The most common ones usually occur in metaphor or simile:

My love, you are like a flower

Swaying in the summer breeze

Okay, so let’s break this down. One, there’s nothing really surprising about comparing your love to a flower. It’s been done many times; at this point, probably too many times. Two, there’s also nothing surprising about a flower in summer. It’s to be expected. Three, while the entire image itself is beautiful (flowers in the summer breeze), it doesn’t reveal anything unique about the speaker’s love. In fact, some would find the use of such a bland and predictable simile almost insulting.

*Now, here’s where an exception to clichés comes in. This would be a perfect simile if you were trying to be sarcastic or humorous about your relationship without being too on the nose*

So how do we spice this up? Well, we make the simile surprising:

My love, you are like the muddy river that runs under the bridge

Cool and murky as you drift through my fingers in the summer’s heat

Okay, not the greatest lines ever written, but more interesting than flowers in the summer breeze.

What often helps all writers think about interesting comparisons and images is being honest about the emotions behind them. We understand that you’re in love, so we want to hear about it, actually hear about it. When you think about the person you love, do you actually think about flowers in the summer breeze? Or do you think about the dumpster behind the cafeteria where you first kissed? Or how they snore in the middle of the night? Or how you’re always late because you both decide to lounge in bed until 2 in the afternoon?  I guarantee you that being honest about the mundaneness of love (or whatever else you decide to write about) will produce something with more candor and accessibility (meaning, resonant with others) than lofty misconceptions about what love is.

As a final note on the cliché, always remember to be true to your own voice. Emulating other people’s poetry can be a fun and useful exercise to develop your own skills, but it is not an end. I’m honestly surprised how many times I’ve encountered poetry from the 21st century written like this:

Hark! Mine fellow scholars! Doth thou hear the gentle wings of poesy?

No, sir, I don’t hear it. Chaucer is dead. Shakespeare is dead. And for good reason. Let’s keep it that way. While most of us don’t speak poetically often, we certainly don’t speak like that anymore. Stay true to the times.

Examples of subverting or flirting with the cliché:

Porphyria’s Lover- Browning

The Flea- Donne

4. Play With Formalities of Structure and Grammar

I’ll keep this point brief because it’s pretty straightforward. Poetry does not have to abide by the formal rules of structure and grammar. In fact, there are very few rules at all.

You can write your lines as whole sentences

Or you can break them up.

You can use commas, periods, exclamation points, etc.

Or you can completely forgo them?

CAPITALIZATION and italics can help

Emphasize certain words that you think are IMPORTANT

Words can be bro     ken up in any num-

Ber of ways do(n’t) be afraid 2

Experiment w/the formalities of language!

5. Stay Grounded in the Real

This may seem like an odd piece of advice but it’s something that has significant consequences for most art. A few, short years ago I was briefly enamored with the complexities and possibilities of language that poetry offered, which manifested in this poem:

For if she flees I should pursue, Through vision, Thereafter? Feather footed, criminal as we are.

 Samael, So once we were, Golden swans littered across the sky, Bathing/bourn/bearing

Light

 Time beyond candlelight, Wicks, unto you, Progenic burning, Great love, Fallen

 Meadows, Whisper sweetly and, Slither into my dreams, Carry with us, black as we rose So Mourned, Thus forgotten

 Disembodied, I will never be beautiful

 Windows, Searching fragments, Arrested above the surface, And if we look back, Snatched away

 Remnants, Objects of decay

 Simply, perpetually, Echo

 From you, Eternity, Effusive threshold, Forlorn foundation, Dripping through fingers, All the things you are

 Cuping flame, Gentle blow

 I was new enough to poetry to still be proud of my writing and gave it to my mentor for his thoughts. After reading it, he asked me “what part of this poem is grounded in the real?” At that moment, I realized that I had gotten so caught up in creating images that I had forgotten to give the poem any kind of “soul.”

Indeed, all this poem is is a bunch of nebulous images that say nothing of the world. There’s a reason we relate to Lucifer instead of God in Paradise Lost. It’s because Lucifer represents us, “the real.” Despite the fact that he is a celestial being, his actions and emotions are human and that’s why we like him. He’s grounded in the worldly.

Think about it like this: the reason you probably hated those books you read in high school and college is because they didn’t resonate with you (yet?). There’s nothing in those books that speaks to your reality. Take, for instance, The Crucible; it’s written well-enough, but I hate it because it doesn’t say anything about my experience. It doesn’t say anything that I can relate to or care about. You “don’t get” Shakespeare, or Chaucer, or Faulkner not because you’re dumb or you didn’t try hard enough, but because their stories might not speak to your experience as a human being.  

It’s also worth noting that age does play a factor in almost every kind of art. That’s why you grow out of certain literature, tv shows, genres of music and people, because they no longer speak for or reflect who you are. The art that remains is the art that continues to say something about the world in our eyes.

[eliancs-blog]

*itzy  vc*  hey  hey  hey   !   (  i  see  that  i’m  icy  )   what’s  up,  i’m  diana,  i’m  nineteen,  and  i’m  ur  resident  girl  group  stan.  i  reside  in  the  est  timezone  &  go  by  the  pronouns  she/her.  now,  finally  introducing  …  loona   !!    jk,  her  name  is  eliana  &  u  can  read  about  her  under  the  cut   !  (  stream  norman  fucking  rockwell <3  ) 

﹤ park jiwon, she/her, cisfemale ﹥; * - hello eliana ‘lia’ wu. long time no see. i know a lot about you. like how you’re twenty, how you’re a european studies major, and in fact.. how you’re the face of your parents church but are hiding the fact that you’re anything but innocent---and that you got kicked out of your catholic university for having an affair with your professor. would be a shame if it got out, wouldn’t it ? so let’s play a game. * TRUTH OR DARE ?

(    𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫.   )

born on october 12th in blacksburg, virginia, eliana’s first impression of the world was a crisp autumn day

she was her parents first and only child and soon became their pride and joy. her parents both came from wealthy families and dedicated their lives to the catholic church they owned

so, eliana grew up around the church and was raised catholic. her parents made her the face of their church. she was the perfect choice, dripping with innocence and purity

eliana learned at a fairly young age the corruption that ensued behind the scenes, behind her parents backs. growing up, she often spent her afternoons at the church. while her parents were off trying to grow their following, eliana was left alone at the church to observe bribery, adultery, and so much more

she was a ghost of a girl; most of the time, people had no idea she was there. they made it easy for her to learn all their secrets

eliana was sent to catholic boarding school for all her years of schooling. at boarding school, she worked her way up the chain of command through bribery, manipulation and blackmail.

she would leave for the majority of the year for school and return during the holidays and for summer break. she would take annual summer trips to europe visiting extended family, staying mainly in italy and france. eliana grew to love europe, she wished she could live there forever

with both catholic school and the church being corrupt, eliana had little faith in the religion and most of the people who followed it. she felt like they were either hypocrites hiding behind a facade, or naively unaware cowards that needed something to believe in. she fell into the first category, while her parents fell into the second. eliana felt sorry for her parents and continued to act like the perfect little church girl for their sake (and for their money, of course)

eliana grew to be quite a selfish person, at least almost everything she did was in her own self interest. if she had nothing to gain, she didn’t see a point in entertaining things. while eliana masqueraded herself as being a charitable, altruistic person, she was quite the opposite

during her high school years at catholic school, eliana began using coke. with pressure from her parents to excel in her classes, extracurricular’s, and volunteer work, she needed something to take the edge off. it started as something she did now and then, though eventually she began to grew addicted (yes, she has the coke cross like kathryn from cruel intentions)

also while away at catholic school, eliana began to experiment with other things. she discovered she had a sexual and romantic interest in girls and guys and started to explore it. although her parents demanded she remain a virgin until marriage, eliana didn’t quite follow those rules, though she kept up the image. her sexual partners and romantic relations were kept on the low for the most part in order to maintain her perfect image

she discovered that sex was just another thing she could use to manipulate others and for her own self interest. after high school, eliana went on to attend a catholic university. during her first semester, she began to have an affair with one of her professors

usually the one in control, eliana found herself recklessly falling for her professor. for him, it was just lust, but for her it felt like more. one day, her private affair became public among some and eliana was kicked out of the university to avoid a scandal

this was bad news for eliana, who had to come up with a way to hide her expulsion from her parents and continue an education elsewhere. the following semester, eliana continued to pretend to attend the catholic university but later decided to tell her parents about transferring to UVA

she came up with a lie about the school having a better program for her major and promised to continue her biblical studies outside of class. reluctantly, her parents allowed it. they trusted her. she was their perfect daughter, after all

so, eliana continued her education at UVA after blackmailing her old school for a dazzling letter of recommendation

eliana is studying european studies, with the desire of eventually moving to france. she is enamored with the art, history, literature, cinema, and the food. honestly, eliana does not want to do anything for a living and is hoping to live off her trust fund and the money she would eventually inherit from her parents, but she loves learning and going to school and bettering her education

(    𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀.   )

eliana is a libra sun scorpio moon (the rest of her placements are tbd)

if u click the link, u can read more about what that means but even the label attached to that combination itself is super fitting for her --- the ‘masquerader’

eliana is not a mean person by any means, but a lot of what she does is in her own self interest. she considers a lot of her friendships to be mutually beneficial arrangements

however, once you become her real friend, though she likely doesn’t have many, she will remain extremely loyal and do anything for you 

once her mind is set on something, she must see it through. this aspect about her can come across as being obsessive in a way (it’s her scorpio moon ok)

when it comes to relationships, eliana tends to see them kind of like business arrangements. love is kind of the last thing in her mind, but it’s definitely possible for her to get swept up into romance, as much as she hates to think so

so, eliana prefers hook ups. however, she still tries to maintain her pure image with people she does not know very well until she gets a read on them. she keeps all her relations on the low and even comes up with mini terms of agreement before getting involved with anyone. she reallyyyyy hates other people knowing her business

eliana is superficially nice on the surface. when i say superficial, it’s not to say that she isn’t friendly but it is superficial at first until she knows who she is dealing with. regardless, she is a friendly person because it does not really benefit her to be any other way. however, if you mess with her, she will find a tactical way to get you back and ten times harder

she drinks and does drugs in moderation because she likes to be in control of herself (minus her coke addiction bc u know). also does it on the down low because again, she’s maintaining an image here

her whole life is pretty much fake, so she often loses sight of herself. she doesn’t know exactly who she is but she is very good at pretending, and she even convinces herself sometimes

she’s pretty lonely tbh though she’ll never admit it. it’s been this way since she was little

her favorite books are anything by jane austen and les liaisons dangereuses by pierre choderlos de laclos, aka the book cruel intentions was based on. she also really enjoys sylvia plath, mary shelley, and virginia woolf

favorite shows: big little lies, sharp objects, killing eve, twin peaks, handmaid’s tale

favorite movies: pride and prejudice, marie antoinette, thoroughbreds, cruel intentions, annihilation, ex machina, stoker, the handmaiden, black swan, atonement, mulholland drive

her fav colors are mint, pastel pink, white and beige

pls look at the pinterest board i made for her <3

(    𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.   ) 

ex-fling/gf/bf - eliana could have a few of these. they could be on good or bad terms. if they’re on bad terms eliana would prob be keeping a close eye on them because she doesn’t want word really getting out. maybe the sexual tension is still there. we could plot out the details and make if fun and interesting hehe

unrequited crush -  ur character could have feelings for eliana, but maybe she doesn’t feel them. this could develop into her eventually having feelings for ur muse or not, whatever we want ! OR eliana could have a crush on someone who does not like her back. maybe that person is super non-committal, or they simply do not like her back. we could plot this out however but it would b interesting for eliana to actually have feelings for someone

current fling/friends w benefits - someone she is currently seeing/sleeping with. could be no strings attached, or there could b some feelings there. maybe they don’t want to make it anything serious, maybe one person is ready to go further, and the other isn’t.

enemies w benefits - imagine the tension!!! they started out hating each other, but ended up hooking up. maybe it was a one time thing, or maybe they can’t stop going back to each other. i think it would definitely have to be something kept super secret, she doesn’t want anyone else to know. this could develop in soooo many ways !

ex-friends - someone she used to consider a close friend, but they had a falling out for whatever reason n maybe they hate each other now. maybe they want to re-kindle their friendship but don’t know how. this could b juicy if they know a little too much about her

sibling-like friendship - someone she sees like a sibling. they’re there for each other and look out for one another, always have each other’s backs. being an only child and not really close to her parents, i would love for eliana to have a friend that’s like family !

dynamic duo - basically like her current best friend. this person is prob one of the closest people to her and might know her very well ! they could b a power duo, always looking out for each other

take care - ok i would love it if for one night, eliana lost control. she either got too drunk or high and was kind of a wreck. someone was there and kind of came to her rescue in a way, they got her home or maybe she slept at their place. after this night, maybe eliana would feel awkward (but also grateful) that someone actually took care of her and looked out for her. maybe your muse did it to have something over her, or maybe it was actually genuine to help her. this could be plotted out in sooo many ways yes i love it

confidant - someone who confides in her or someone she confides in, or they confide in each other. they don’t necessarily have to be the closest friends ever, but they get along, trust each other, and maybe they talk more in private

rivals - they hate each other for whatever reason. maybe it’s jealousy or their personalities just clash, but for whatever reason they do not get along. i love a good enemies plot. they can just b nasty to each other !!! maybe they bring out a really bad side to eliana that most ppl dont see (because she’s usually very lowkey even when she’s angry or dislikes someone)

victim of manipulation - eliana can be very manipulative. whether through bribery, blackmail, or whatever the case, i would love to have a plot where your muse is someone she could manipulate. maybe she bribes them to do her dirty work, or has something over them. she wouldn’t make them do anything too crazy, but this person would just be someone she has a hold over 

partner in crime - okay pls give me someone eliana schemes with. like imagine the powerrrr they would have. they would just plot n scheme together to help each other out or for some personal gain

dealer - idk if any of the muses r drug dealers, but if yes, someone who deals coke to her. they might know firsthand about her addiction. we could plot this however!

these are all the plot ideas i can think of for now, but i’ll prob make a plots page later on and add more stuff !

aaaaaand this is everything !! it has taken me longer to write this than i care to admit...pls don’t ask. i would absolutely looooove to plot so please hit me up on discord stream norman fucking rockwell#5522 (or i can hit u up). i cannotttt wait to start interacting and stuff <3

[wordlesscaptain]

The Mere Idea of You (Steve x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barista!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: language

Prompt: 2. “Little does she know - he thinks about her, too.”

Summary: Steve finds himself drawn to a particular coffee shop in the heart of Midtown and can’t seem to get a certain barista off his mind.

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-at-bedtime’s Marvellous Marvel Writing Extravaganza. I apologize for how late this is. Thank you so so much for your patience!

This fic is written from Steve’s POV. You can find the Reader’s POV linked below soon.

The Very Thought of You | The Mere Idea of You

The cold was gruesome and rigid. Its bite was bitter and unforgiving, always leaving behind a lingering sense of agony and remorse. It brought back disheartening memories that Steve did not need to relive. He avoided it as much as he could. On icy days like this, he always cut his morning runs short. The burn in his lungs from the frigid air becoming too much to stand.

However, despite the arctic weather, he somehow managed to venture back out in it time and time again. It was only a short, brisk walk until he found his place of solace—a small and inviting coffee shop in the heart of Midtown. Although it wasn’t his ideal location—Midtown being a hot spot for tourists and alien invasions—something, someone, kept bringing him back.  

Whenever anyone on the team asked why he always had to go to that coffee shop when he could just stay at the tower and make his own coffee, he just shrugged and said it helped clear his mind. That was all entirely true. His first venture out to that quaint little shop was to help put his mind at ease after a particularly rough mission.

He had visited various coffee shops, not wandering too far from the tower just in case danger struck. Most places were too busy and noisy for his liking, filled with people scurrying to get their caffeine fix at all hours of the day. But one shop in particular stood out to him.  

Fairy lights flickering in the windows drew him in. The shop was small, but warm. The scent of freshly brewed coffee instantly putting him at ease. Delicate candles sat atop ivory tables, somehow making the space feel larger than it was. The thing that stood out to him most, however, was the familiar jazz music playing throughout the shop. Once he stepped inside, he immediately transcended back to his time. A time where things were simpler and less chaotic. A time where all he worried about was his mom and his best friend. A time where he didn’t have to protect the world he lived in. That was exactly what he needed.

The cherry on top that sealed the deal was the friendly barista who always made Steve’s coffee—black with an occasional splash of milk—with a smile on her face. The two of you shared pleasant conversation every morning he stopped by. He appreciated that you were kind to him, unlike a handful of baristas he had encountered around the city. He also liked that you kept his identity on the downlow, unlike the occasional barista that would yell ‘Oh my God, you’re Captain America’, alerting the entire establishment of his presence.  

Steve couldn’t put a finger as to why he kept visiting that little coffee shop just to see you. There was just something about you. His thoughts often ran back to you all throughout the day. Maybe he kept going back to see you to finally find an answer as to why he had become so enamored with you.

He walked into the coffee shop on another particularly cold morning, jazz music melting the frigid cold off of him. His eyes instantly glued to your form, his smile slowly growing at the sight of you. You were behind the counter, obviously deep in thought.  

Steve inched up to the counter, rolling on the balls of his feet before breaking the silence. “Mornin’, Y/N.”

Your eyes grew wide in recognition, a big grin instantly adorning your face. “Steve,” you breathed. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he echoed with a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m good, great,” you smiled. 

He smiled again. “Rough morning?” he asked with earnestness. You seemed a little out of it today.

“Oh, just the same old, same old,” you shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” he hummed. He genuinely felt bad for you. He heard stories about some of the interactions you had with customers. Hell, he had even seen some of the interactions. It was shocking how rude people could be.

“It’s okay. Not all of the customers are terrible. So,” you paused, “the usual?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded. He loved how he had been here so much that he had a usual and that you knew what it was.

“Coming right up,” you swiveled back towards the kitchen, filling up a glass with hot coffee. You returned and handed him the warm cup.  

“Thank you,” he beamed. He stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out his wallet, hoping he’d be fast enough before you turned down his payment.

“Nuh-uh, this one’s on the house.” 

Nope. Not fast enough.

“But it’s always on the house. Let me pay you, just this once,” he pleaded.  

“Consider it a thank you for protecting this crazy world. Lord knows you don’t get thanked enough.”

“Okay,” he let out a breath and smiled. It was a kind gesture that he just couldn’t say no to. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you,” you grinned.

He flashed you another smile before sitting in his usual seat next to the window. He pulled out his sketchbook and sprawled it out in front of him, pencil on one side of the book, coffee on the other. He peered out the window, hoping to find something to sketch and trying to not get distracted by you. However, he could see figments of your reflection dancing in the window, so that was a lost cause. He decided to continue sketching the same subject he had been focused on ever since he stepped foot in this coffee shop—you.  

Steve desperately hoped you, or anyone, never found his sketchbook. He thought it might be a little creepy and unsettling if you ever found out all he ever sketched was you. No, it was definitely creepy. But he couldn’t help himself. He loved sketching you. How the warm lights illuminated your hair, how you smiled at each customer—despite how rude they were, how much care and focus you put into each drink you crafted. He got lost in putting the details of you onto paper.

The scratching of graphite across the page came to a sudden stop when Steve’s phone buzzed. He sighed and looked down at the glowing screen. Much to his dismay, he had to leave his safe haven and go back to avenging.  

He threw his sketchbook and pencil into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Picking up his empty coffee cup, he walked back to the counter to bid you farewell.

“Heading out?” you asked. 

“Afraid so,” he gave you a sad smile. “Duty calls.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “Be safe out there,” you gave him a small smile. “Can’t have my favorite customer getting injured.”

His heart fluttered at your words. Your favorite customer. But you said it with a hint of unease. He could tell you were worried about him. You always seemed to be worried about him whenever he left to save the world. He hated that he caused you to worry. He wished he could assure you that he always tried his damn hardest to keep himself out of harm’s way so he could come back and relish in the comfort of your company.

“Always,” he gave you a sympathetic smile. Giving you a small wave, he walked out the door.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he made the miserable walk back to the tower in the cold. His thoughts wandering back to you. ‘Can’t have my favorite customer getting injured.’ repeated over and over in his mind, a smile forming on his lips. He hope he won’t have to wait too long before he could see you again.

—

Moscow was cold and unforgiving. A mission that was supposed to last a couple of days had extended into a couple of weeks. Steve longed for nothing more to leave the frigid country and bask in the warmth and comfort of that little coffee shop in Midtown.

He had been finding it incredibly hard to stay focused on the mission at hand. His mind kept wandering to you. How were you doing? How many rude customers did you have to deal with today? Did you think about him as much as he thought about you?

Thoughts like this he would’ve let freely flow if he wasn’t currently in hand to hand combat. He had been so distracted this entire mission, today even more so for some reason. Since his focus was obviously elsewhere, the enemies were able to land a few good blows. Steve hoped nobody would notice, but it was such a rare occurrence for him that he was sure he’d be pestered with questions later.

“You alright, man?” Sam asked after they made it back to the safe house.

“Yeah, I’m just a little out of it today,” Steve shrugged in one of the uncomfortable arm chairs, a tablet with information on the mission in his hand.

“I’ll say,” Sam scoffed. “They’ve actually been kicking your ass out there. Definitely something I thought I’d see when pigs fly, but Bucky isn’t airborne yet so,” he shrugged, a smirk growing on his lips.

“I heard that!” Bucky yelled from the other room.

Steve sighed shook his head, continuing to scroll through the seemingly endless information.

“But, for real,” Sam continued, “You doing okay?”

He looked to Sam and paused for a minute before responding. “Yeah, just don’t like the cold.”

Sam nodded in acknowledgement and didn’t press further, seeming to buy Steve’s answer.

Steve continued to scroll through the tablet, the words evaporating in thin air before he could make sense of them. Images kept flashing in his mind, images of you. The slope of your nose, the cure of your lips, the wide grin you flashed him every time you saw him. What it would be like to be wrapped in a sea of blankets on a cold night like this, touching and caressing your soft and supple skin. Man, he had it bad. How had you come to occupy so much space in his mind? He didn’t know you all that well, and yet you had him wrapped around your finger.

Did he have the same effect on you as you did on him? Did the mere idea of him distract you from your daily life? Perhaps he would never find the answer, but he was content with always wondering, as long as he was wondering about you.

Little did he know - you thought about him, too.

Taglist:

Permanent:

@memyselfandmaddox @shilohrudd98 @bibibucky @12thatsanumber @elephantstudies-andmore

Steve:

@thebakerstboyskeeper @wowikindasuck @musical-whovian @coffeebooksandfandom @manchuria @19mrs-rogers18 @zlixlle

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, please go here or send me an ask!

[noona-clock]

Bound - Part 2

Genre: God AU 

Pairing: Jongdae x You 

By Admin T

“I’d like to be a human, even for a while, and stay by your side. Will you let me?” 

You gaped once more. You didn’t care how ridiculous you looked. You couldn’t control your face. The God of Thunder and Lightning was here with you, asking if he could be a human with you. 

“What?!” you responded, your voice rising much more than it should. 

He flinched and tried to find the right words. He mentally scolded himself for not thinking this through. 

“What I meant to say was... I’d like to pretend to be a human and I think that you’re the perfect one,” he said with a nod and smile that indicated that he was proud of himself for clarifying what he’d just meant. 

You shook your head. “That does not... why?! And me? Aren’t there rules or...” you stammered, still in utter confusion. 

“I’m hiding myself from the rest of the gods right now as we speak,” said Jongdae, his smile still proud. Out of all the lessons he’d had to learn, this was the easiest one to figure out, only because he’d used it so often to hide from Suho. “I’m much better at it when I’m around you, apparently.” 

“Well, w-why can’t you... hide somewhere else?” 

Jongdae sighed. He hadn’t thought he’d had to convince you. Who wouldn’t want to spend time with a god? Then again, he’d wanted to be the complete opposite. Maybe because you were everything that he wasn’t. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen me already,” he continued with a teasing smirk. 

“Er, um...” you murmured. You definitely have. Again, you thought you were seeing things. He was there at the market. Or, when you were on the way home. Or, at a neighbor’s party. But not once did you feel threatened. If anything, you felt comforted. 

There was one particular night when you’d taken care of your neighbor, you had to walk home by yourself. They’d offer to let you stay but you wanted the comfort of your home. So, you set out by yourself, your ears perked and hands ready to reach for the pocketknife you’d hidden in your skirts. Nothing happened save for a flash of lightning in the sky that lighted your way home. You thought you’d seen him but you weren’t scared. You were home before you knew it. 

As your thoughts swirled, Jongdae smiled, his hand tentatively reaching for your cheek. “So, may I? Stay with you?” 

His touch was soft and your heart melted. 

You nodded. 

You are a logical person. You are a person who did not make rash decisions. You thought, calculated and measured everything. It was how you survived for this long in this land. As an orphan, you didn’t have much of family in the first place. You learned how to fend for yourself. So, the small yet cozy home that you had meant a lot to you. Even more so was the reputation that you’d built for yourself within the neighborhood. Others respected you, respected your work and trusted you. 

So, then why was it that with one touch and a hesitant smile that Jongdae won you over so quickly? You figured it was because he was a god. There were tales of gods raining down vengeance because they were not followed. Not that Jongdae seemed that type but, then, one never knew these days. Or, was it because that somehow, with him, you felt at peace? 

You were flustered and slightly angry with yourself but his presence comforted you even when he walked alongside you towards the market. You’d somehow managed to find him clothes: trousers and a sleeveless shirt with a hood that you didn’t know you had in the first place. But he still donned them and he blended in well enough. 

Despite your silence, the market was bustling with vendors shouting, carts making their way past and children laughing as they ran around. You always loved the market, no matter how busy it was. 

You spotted a fruit vendor nearby and your face beamed at the thought of something sweet. Jongdae’s eyes glanced over at you and he couldn’t help but smile. His lips twitched and curled upwards in fascination. 

Within a few seconds, there was a yell as a runaway horse clattered through the street. You were too focused on the fruits you’d intended to buy that you hadn’t seen it come your way. Jongdae’s hand grabbed your wrist, immediately pulling you towards him, your body flushed against his as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. 

He eyed the horse as if it done something wrong (although, it was probably the owner’s fault) before moving closer to the sidewalk. 

“Are you alright?” he murmured, his eyes searching your face, your arms, your hands for any sort of injury. 

It happened much too fast and you were suddenly overwhelmed by him, his smell and his touch. What was it about touching Jongdae that made you this way? You let out a breath and tried to remember how to use words, “Fine, I’m fine. Thank you.” 

The end of his lips turned up, which you found endearing and alluring at the same time, as he smiled at you gladly. “Good,” he muttered. You saw a flash of sternness in his eyes despite his kind face. “Be careful. Can’t have getting you run over while I’m staying with you.” 

“Y/N!” came a bark from one of the vendors that woke you back up to reality. You cleared your throat, disentangling yourself from Jongdae. “Have you finally found yourself a suitor?!” 

“F-fruits are this way...” you murmured. This time, looking both ways before crossing the street as you rushed forward, hoping that you could hide your blushing cheeks while Jongdae chuckled in amusement and followed you. 

“And who is this young man?” smiled the grandpa in front of you, his eyes twinkling with delight as he eyed Jongdae. “He looks somewhat familiar...” 

You gulped, handing him the herbs and oils he’d asked for. “Here you are, sir,” you replied as you ignored his question. This whole ‘keeping-a-god-as-a-human-by-your-side’ was not boding well with all the attention Jongdae was getting in your shop. You always had a talent for healing herbs, oils and anything to soothe the body. It didn’t take long for you to set up the local apothecary. Jongdae, however, smiled at the customers and immediately won them over. You weren’t sure if you disliked or liked it. 

“I’m her husband.” 

You’d almost dropped the items in your hand as you stared at Jongdae. He stood there with a cheeky smile that almost mirrored the grandpa’s equally excited and mischievous smile. 

“Oh, Y/N, everyone would be so delighted!” 

You gasped. “He is -- .” 

“So happy to meet you. She’s always told stories about her customers to me,” interrupted Jongdae. It was then that you’d wanted to wrangle his neck out of frustration. 

“Y/N is just so sweet,” grinned the grandpa. “She always knows exactly what I need. I’m glad you’d finally found someone, dear.” He patted your cheek for good measure before handing you the coins for his purchase before walking out the door. 

You stared momentarily before turning towards Jongdae. 

“My husband?!” 

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It makes the most sense. Besides, everyone’s complimented us on how good we look good together.” 

You huffed but door opened and the bell rang as someone else walked in to your store, causing you to reel your anger. Jongdae waved excitedly. “Ooh, a new customer!” 

He walked quietly next to you. The sun was setting and the weather had been calm today. The light breeze made you smile. He bit his lip in an attempt to hide an incoming smile. What was it about you that drew him in closer, no matter what? 

He was avoiding a lesson, as always, so he hid in the human world. Your world. Up there with the gods, it was much more constrained. He felt that he couldn’t be himself. And, as soon as he saw you, he was enamored. Not just by your physical appearance, of course that was hard to miss, but you were kind, helpful and selfless. If there was a definition of a goddess, he’d chose it to be you. You deserved to be up there much more than he did. That was probably when I fell for you, he thought to himself with a slight hum. 

“You’re staring,” you murmured, glancing over at him warily. 

He cleared his throat nervously, his ears flushing pink and suddenly glad that the shirt you gave him had a hood. You’d insisted that he wore the hood on his head all day for fear of anyone noticing him. ‘Not that it’d do much good hiding that smile of yours,’ you muttered accidentally under your breath, causing an even brighter smile from him and more flushed cheeks from you. 

“Just thinking,” he finally replied. “So, is this what humans do?” 

You shrugged, looking back down at your feet. “We do what we can. We survive.” 

“But you also enjoy, don’t you?” he asked innocently. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. You’d heard that reminder before but you couldn’t figure out where. "We try. I try.” 

"I have an idea,” he grinned and you stilled. You looked over at him and his lips curled into that usual smile. “Let me cook for you.” 

“Cook?! But you don’t know how -- .” 

“Then, teach me,” he chuckled softly. Behind him, lightning flashed silently for a brief moment but it came too quickly for you to catch it. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

You smirked. “Gods know how to heal themselves, right?” 

Jongdae put his hand to his chin. “I think they taught that to me in my lessons one time.” 

You sighed, walking away. 

“No, wait... I’ll be safe, I promise! Y/N, wait up for me!” 

The clouds rolled across the sky and lightning flashed. 

Find Part 3 in the Chen Masterlist!

[prettylilparker]

shopping with peter parker headcanon

my masterlist <3

“a fluffy, innocent peter x reader where they’re out shopping and the reader needs to go get a bra” fuck yea (okay this turned out kinda lowkey smutty, but i promise there’s a bunch of fluff too!)

omfg

peter absolutely adored shopping with you

yea he acted like the usual, annoyed bf, but he was secretly so damn happy shopping w you (well, really, doing anything w you)

so ofc whenever you asked him to come with you, he jumped at the chance

“peter, i’m going to the mall aftersch-”

“yes”

“i didn’t even finish m-”

“yes”

you guys most definitely get all those quality mall snacks

if peter does not get his pretzel he will pout so hard

“ok let’s go into this store... peter why do you look like that?”

he’s staring between the pretzel vender and you, his lower lip jutted out adorably

you giggle at his childishness, pulling him into you with the sleeves of his sweatshirt and kissing his pouted lips

“okay petey”

“wow i love my girlfriend” 

he’d say it a bit too loud, wanting everyone around you to hear him

dude

peter would literally shop w you, like he’d be right by your side, helping you by pointing out things he thought you’d like (and some he rlly wanted to see you in)

“what about this?” peter asked from across the rack of clothes

he was holding up a miniskirt

definitely a little too short

“peter,” you sighed exasperatedly

he kind of just shrugged

boi thought he was so slick

at the cash register it somehow ended up in your pile

you bought it to wear just for him bc u knew you could never go in public w that scandalous of clothing, or rather lack of clothing... he was a happy boy

lord... dressing rooms

peter would be munching on his pretzel, when you’d suddenly walk out of the dressing rooms to the little lounge area he was sitting

he fucking dropped the pretzel

his jaw dropped

you were wearing a red dress that hugged you in all the right places, all the places his hands always seemed to find their way to, like magnets

you looked stunning and peter was a stuttering, blushing, flustered mess

“oh my g-gosh, you look- you look like an...”

“a what, peter?” you asked, smirking at the effect you had on him

“a-a-, i was going to say, an angel”

“more like the devil”

“wouldn't mind that either,” he managed to say

HIS BROWS WERE RAISED SUGGESTIVELY AND U KNOW U BOUGHT THAT DRESS

peter would hold all your bags too

and wouldn’t complain at all, about how heavy the bags were getting or about being tired or anything

because he was just so glad to be in your presence

you were like a health boost in a video game

he got an extra heart every single time you kissed him

sooooo you needed a new bra

and there was a victoria’s secret right there

you’d never made peter go in with you before, but yeah you rlly wanted a new bra especially since there was a sign outside announcing a sale

“peter...”

“hm?”

“do you mind if we go into victoria’s secret?”

peter whipped his head around at you, blushing

“like as in-”

“yes, as in underwear, bras, lingerie, thongs-”

“okay, okay, i get it,” he shifts awkwardly

“it’s okay if you feel too uncomfortable-”

“no,” he smiled, “anything for you”

oof why did he always say the most perfect things??

okay so you two walked in the store, hand in hand

peter was so nervous and it was so cute

he avoided looking at all the pictures on the walls bc he only had eyes for you and looking at anyone like that, so exposed, felt like he was betraying you

he only ever wanted to see you like that

you walked over to a section that you spotted a red and blue bra, smirking while you led peter towards it

peter had been looking down at his phone, texting ned bc he was basically hyperventilating

“hey” you whispered to catch the boy’s attention

peter’s eyes raised to what you were pointing at

and his breath hitched in his throat

“is that?”

“my favorite superhero’s colors”

“m-”

“captain america”

peter looked horrified

“i’m just kidding of course, silly. spider-man is my number one, captain america being a close second”

peter ignored the last part of your sentence, enamored by the idea of you wearing what was in your hands

“are you going to, to get it?” peter was trying so hard to contain his growing smile (y’all dirty smh)

“we can match, but i have to go try it on first”

you found your size, then found the dressing room, leaving peter just outside

it fit almost perfectly, a little tight, but it would stretch after time

you took quite a while (you didn't whatsoever but peter was getting so impatient, he wanted to get home as quickly as possible and kiss you, a lot)

“y/nnnnnnnnnn”

“peterrrrrrrrrr”

“are you done yet?”

“yeah, come in”

CUE BLUSHING MESS PETER

he hadn't expected you to say that

he’d seen you in a bra before

(lol ur make-out sessions got kinda intense sometimes)

but this was different, because now the lighting wasn’t just from the dimly lit lamp in his bedroom and he wasn't busy admiring your lips to not notice the rest of you

he asked if you were sure once more and you said yes

he slowly opened the door to the dressing room you were in

you were standing in the middle of it, facing the wall-length mirror

you caught peter’s eyes in the mirror, grinning to hide the blush starting to crawl up your cheeks

peter bit his bottom lip, concealing the lust in his eyes as he scanned up and down your body in the reflection

the leggings that hugged your hips alongside the bra sporting the colors of his alter ego made him melt

he felt like jello as you spun around and tugged the handle of the door behind him closed

“you look, you look ravishing”

that was a new one

you liked it

“oh, do i?”

“undoubtedly”

you lovebirds definitely had a lengthy make-out session in there

thank god no one else was in there bc peter was loud

later, after brushing down your messy hair, you guys walked out shamelessly

bc you weren't ashamed of being so deeply in love with the other

how could you be?

you bought the red and blue bra

and peter benjamin parker couldn’t contain his smile

“save that for later, parker”

and he did