#life is busy and not very kind at the moment

[izvmimi]

“Talk to me, mm?”

In a world where everything is alright and you’re not out of sync with the love of your life, Izuku wouldn’t need to prompt you to do so. You’d let your mouth run freely as he listens, nods, affirms or offers an alternative perspective, his hand always finding its way to hold yours or his lips finding any way to press against your skin, anything to keep you physically connected.

But you’ve been upset with him for the past few days, perhaps weeks really, an ever-present gnawing at your very bones, discomfort like an invisible swarm of small insects marching under your skin. You're unsettled to your very core, but holding it in, holding all the pieces of you and your relationship together with cheap glue.

You hate to complain, and you can’t even come up with a complaint that feels less silly than I need you, I want you to come home more often, I want you to choose me, as if you are a grade school child asking for a kind look from a busy parent. So instead your lips have remained sealed and tight, and despite trying to remain warm and receptive, the cold seeps through.

Izuku has finally had a moment to breathe between Hero-ing and Helping and being everyone else’s safe haven, and now he insists on being yours again. 

“Baby.”

It’s hard to look at him now, when you’re this close. Izuku has once suggested that when you have conversations of a certain intensity, you do so in a quiet room, as close as physically possible, unable to look anywhere but each other’s eyes. It was silly to you when he’d suggested it and you’d giggled and agreed, but now, sitting face to face with your legs overlapping his and your faces two head spaces apart, it’s impossible to escape him or your feelings for him but you’re almost too overwhelmed to speak.

He grips your hands gently at the wrists, but doesn’t say anything more, just caressing your skin with the pads of his thumbs. There’s a smile on his face, peaceful, as if he’s just enjoying being in your presence, having the skin of your nearly bare legs in shorts graze against his waist. He’d murmur that he loves you, but he doesn’t want his feelings to matter more than yours.

You let out a sigh that wracks through your whole body and lean forward - you fall against his chest and he’s quick to hold you close.

“I miss you,” you whisper. And that’s it, all in a nutshell. You miss the warmth of his body and the arms that wrap securely around you right now, and knowing that even if he belongs to the world, he’s your first and foremost to have and to hold.

He holds you tight and sighs as well, kissing the top of your head before burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply of your love for him. 

“I know. I miss you too. But no matter what, I'm always yours.”

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

emma woodhouse is the funniest austen girl. she has one-sided drama with the most reserved girl who has done nothing but literally just mind her business. she gets angry about not being invited to a social event even though she would have said no just because she would have liked to be asked. she's said she's aiming to read more for years but has never actually read more. she refers to her best friend as being naive and not very smart and kind of manipulates her while simultaneously both complicating her life greatly from the moment they meet to being her ride or die. she is literally The Problem. she denies that she is The Problem. she makes me want to pull my hair out. I love her more than anything.

[stars4chratt]

Pins n' Needles p.2

Pairing: Chris x fem!reader

Warnings: Smuttttt / reader is a bit rough in the beginning / angst (kind of??) / piercing kink / public sex (sort of) / piercer!Chris / fem stimulation / cunnilingus / vibrating tongue piercing / nipple play / switch!Chris / switch!reader / chris gets jealous ;) / ‘sugar’, ‘ma’, ‘mama’ / Chris + vertical labret, eyebrow & tongue pierced

Summary: You have been seeing Chris for a while now. You and him have made a connection outside of his piercing shop. However, he’s taken aback by what you have underneath your clothes.

Author’s Note: Guys ik i haven’t posted anything proper in ages. I’m making it up to you today I promise. But i hope you enjoy this one bc i certainly did like writing this. From Maxine, with love ♡.

“Baby, step outside your mind. You’ve been really good, you’ve been really good. You’ve been thinking ‘bout being bad ever since I put you on.” - LIFE OF THE PARTY, THE WEEKND.

𓆩☥𓆪

A notification illuminates the dark surface area of your room from your phone. You roll over across your bed for it to be a reminder of your appointment at the piercing shop today.

The grip over your phone tightens. It had been a while since the two of you met up one on one at his workplace.

You were incredibly excited about seeing him again after what happened the last time you went for a piercing from his parlour. Your head fades into a blur for a second as you recollect everything that’s happened every single time you and your body piercer go to see each other.

Besides all the intimate times, you get along great with him. You’ve come to realise that you and him have incredibly similar interests. This has concluded to Chris latching onto you even more, although neither of you have consulted each other about taking things to the next level and trying something more serious.

Chris’ sense of style and taste in fashion has always piqued your interest ever since you first walked into his store. Ever since you first laid eyes on him you always prayed that each appointment, he’d be there working a shift. Outside of his work, you have gone over to his place from time to time. You ask him if you can borrow his clothes because you’re so obsessed with his seemingly dark yet tame aesthetic. You and him have grown to be so close.

But what you’re most fond of was the way he’d twirl and twist the metal bar clasped onto his tongue around his mouth, sliding it over the shell of his enamels, shiny from his spit.

It was your favourite piercing of his, you love it just as much as he does. You grow hot and bothered reminiscing about everything that’s happened between you and him.

You look down at the time. ‘8:30’. You rise up from your lying position and get ready for the appointment.

𓆩☥𓆪

You breathe slowly, trying to help soothe the tingling nerves jolting down the curve of your spine. Trotting down the steep stairs to the familiar sanctuary where he resides.

Again, the place was empty. A moment of confusion floats until realisation hits you.

He’s probably cleared his schedule again…

You reach over the counter to try and peak over into the back. As per usual, the room is mostly dim. The LED lights kindled a red hue along the edges of the walls.

There’s more posters propped up around the place. Chris really does like decorating the place. It’s what he does the most when he’s not busy with an appointment.

You’re trying to find any sort of silhouette of a person coming into your vision. It’s hard to see and you have to squint to view anything properly.

“Hellooo… Chris?” You ponder out. After a few seconds, you hear tussling and rushed footsteps coming your way.

Chris, your body piercer. Who you’ve been fucking every now and again ever since you got that particular piercing on that very fateful day.

His locs, which once were dishevelled and messy, are now cut short. You can actually see his eyebrow piercing as clear as day now. You grin at the thought of him pampering himself up like that. You quite like the new change in his appearance.

“Hey, sugar! I’ve missed you.” He exclaims with sheer delight in his voice. “What can I do for you today, hm?” He slouches and rests his elbows on the desk. Your arched position across him releases and you stand upright again in embarrassment.

“Hi Chris, I’m here for another piercing today.” You grip at the zip of your grey hoodie. You start to fondle at it trying to avert your eye contact from Chris.

“Is that so?” In the corner of your eye you can see Chris lick at his lip making the top ball on his labret barbell wet.

“Did you make sure I was the only appointment today again?” You giggle sarcastically. The bitter confidence in your question made him grin feverishly.

“Mhm, like always Ma.” The nickname he’s been using on you for a while now. You’re still not sure whether you’re used to it or not. You love it either way though.

Chris gathers the waiver in his grasp and hands it to you. Veins running down from his hands all the way to the end of his forearms. Sculpting around his muscles capsuled in his black graphic tee with a deer in headlights plastered on it.

He still wears the large Vivienne Westwood orb around his neck. You never noticed before, but as his finger taps to the beat of the music playing in the background, his finger has a sigil tattoo that is plastered right below his nail bed.

From what you’ve gathered from him so far, Chris doesn’t like to appear as “normal”. But he doesn’t stick out too much either. He perks out the crowd only slightly with his few piercings and a small tattoo. He doesn’t try too hard. You like that in him. Piercings and body modifications is also something he personally and genuinely enjoys. He didn’t choose this job because it was his one and only option. He loves the idea of people being creative with their own identity and partaking in helping them with that task. It’s what makes you so attracted to him. Besides the fact he’s so handsome.

“Signature here and here please, sugar.” He gestures down at the document as he mutters offering you the pen pinched between his thumb and pointer.

You snap out of your trance. You take the pen and engrave your details in. You glance up at Chris for a second to see him staring down at you. He tilts his head to the side when he notices you look up.

You immediately break eye contact and finish writing your signature and stumble back to your feet again after leaning on the desk to hand the paper back to him.

“Come head down here in the back for me, Ma.” Chris uses the middle and pointer finger to beckon you to follow him. And you do so without hesitation, just like before.

𓆩☥𓆪

You’re sitting on the stretcher waiting patiently and admiring Chris simply doing his job. Like always, Chris has his sterilised equipment and black latex gloves.

He breaks open an alcohol pad with his teeth and rubs it against your skin. He sets it down onto the steel tray with a large array of needles and jewellery.

“How’ve you been holding up, anyway?” You break the silence and Chris turns around after his focus has shifted. Your legs are rocking back and forth from the adrenaline pumping through your blood vessels in preparation for the piercing.

“I’ve been fine, mostly. I haven’t seen you in a while. Why don’t you stop by more often, sugar? You never come ‘visit unless it’s a new piercing you want.” Chris speaks as he has his back turned once again. Trying to look for the right needle gauge. 

“W-well, I wouldn’t really wanna bother you at your place of work. I’m pretty sure you’re busy with other customers.” You sigh hesitantly.

“Whaaat?” Chris exaggerates his confusion. You huff out a laugh and Chris turns around again, gazing at you.

“Didn’t I tell you? You’re my favourite customer. I’d love to have you over any time, Ma.” The glint in his eye matches the shine on his piercings.

“Hmm, I’ll have a think about it.” You return slyly. Chris chuckles and moves the tray closer to you.

“Is it okay if you take your jacket off?” He asks. 

You grit your teeth. You purposefully didn’t wear a bra today for the sake of the jacket being there yet you’re now starting to regret your choices. 

You hesitantly pull the sleeves and drape it down and put it beside you on the stretcher.

Chris’ lively expression sank. His jaw clenched as he looked down at your shirt. The shape of two piercings on both your nipples peeking out of the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly. You look down at the floor in shame.

He scoffs bitterly because he knows, he knows that he wasn’t the one who did those piercings for you. The unpleasant surprise made his mood change almost instantaneously.

The atmosphere between you two grows thick. You try to look the other way as Chris positions the needle onto your now pink skin.

You can feel his glare on you. It’s burning deep into your skin, he refuses to look away whatsoever.

“On three. One, two, three.” Suddenly, the needle sinches your skin as the needle and jewellery goes in. The pain is harsher and more fiery. You audibly groan and sniffle, trying to stifle the tears welling up.

You’re also upset at the sudden change in mood from Chris. He was being so warm and welcoming earlier. He definitely noticed your nipple piercings.

Chris never struck you as the jealous type. You always thought he didn’t give a shit about what happens outside of meeting up to hang out or for sex. You two aren’t dating, so it’s understandable why you thought that. Chris also seems nonchalant when it comes to stuff like this. Your assumption is dead fucking wrong on your account though.

You wipe at your cheeks trying to conceal your overwhelming emotions pouring through. 

Not a word came out of Chris’ mouth after the piercing. He’s gone cold all of a sudden. Not a single bit of praise, not even reassurance. He’s pissed off at something for sure.

“Chris? What’s wrong?” You ask him gently. He fails to look at you directly. He rushes to take the gloves off and throws them back into the tray carelessly.

“Nothing. Why?” He responds dryly. You’re still wondering if this is all because of what he saw beneath your shirt.

“Stop being so stale with me, Chris. I’m trying to communicate with you here.” Your tone hardens into stone. Your eyebrows furrow deeply and you grab Chris’ shoulder, swivelling him around so he’s now facing you properly.

Chris tries to dismiss you as much as he can. Even though he said nothing was wrong. You didn’t know he was this arrogant until now.

You take a step closer towards him. Your feet are almost stepping on his. Chris tries to inch away but hits the metal countertop with the tray resting on it clumsily. He swallows thickly and you can clearly see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he does so.

You can see his tough guy act go soft. He gets so nervous around you. And, fuck does it turn you on. You can hear the breaths coming out of his mouth both from how tense he is and how close you two are together.

Your tits practically grazing against his shirt. You take one step closer until your lips are almost touching.

You can feel the cold metal of his lip ring press against your skin. Sending shivers through your entire body. 

Your figure is now fully pressed onto his. Chris can feel the hard bars pinched in your nipples digging through his shirt onto his skin.

He stutters as he palms the countertop behind him and grips at it. You can feel his breath turn into hard and sharp pants. You smirk, you almost laugh at yourself for being so upset about him being a dick earlier.

“What’s wrong, baby? Hm? ‘You jealous that I went to a different piercer this one time? Without telling you?” You tease him. You breathe down his ear gently while spitting these harsh rhetorics at him. His body shudders and you can feel something twitch down below.

“‘You getting hard over this? Really? How pathetic.” You utter through your teeth. Chris whimpers at your sour comment. You reach down to the bulge in his sweats and palm over the fabric.

“O-oh fuck…” he chokes up quietly. You can’t help but grin maliciously over the control you have over him at this moment in time. Him trying to act all pissed off before all this has you screaming inside with fulfilment.

You’re incredibly agitated at his stubbornness. You’re riled up especially at the fact that Chris was being so stern earlier. 

He reaches down to make contact with your lips, but you refuse and glare up at him. He whines sadly with regret at your spiteful manner. He really fucking wanted to kiss you. To at least make up for his negativity towards you. Your hard stare matches his from a few moments ago. Giving him a taste of his own shitty medicine.

“P-please kiss me. I-I wanna feel your lips so bad, Mama. I’m so desperate…” He hides his lip ring in his mouth as he feeds his bottom lip inside it. His hands now clasped tightly around your waist.

“Tell me what’s wrong first, sweetheart.” You reply in his ear gently. Chris’ face fills with red as he tries to find the words to speak.

“...Y-yeah, I am jealous that you went to another piercer. Why did you do that anyway? I thought you were comfortable around me. You didn’t even tell me about it either. Kind of a dick move to be honest, Ma…”

He looks away shyly, removing his hands from your waist to rub them over his face. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, baby. Honestly, I wanted it to be like a fun little surprise for when we next hooked up. I didn’t think you’d be so upset about it. I should’ve warned you beforehand.” You lean in and interlock your lips with his. The kiss is short but passionate. Chris’ hands make their way back down to your waist again.

“It’s okay, sugar. I like them a lot, actually. They’re hot as fuck.” His labret migrates slightly from the grin on his face. He cups one of your tits softly, breaking the tender moment. 

He squeezes it which makes you squirm. His dick twitches harshly against you again.

“Fuck surprises. You should’ve told me you were getting these. I would’ve jerked off so much to the thought of your tits pierced.” You whimper as Chris’ hand makes its way underneath your shirt. He pulls and tugs at the piercing just enough to send a jolt down to your slick pussy.

“I-I actually might get a Christina. Do you want me to go to a different piercer or…?” You smirk up at him. He loves how fucking dirty you are. His dick is begging to be let out of his sweats. His eyebrow ring glints and he bites his bottom lip again. Fully hiding his labret.

“Fuck no, baby. I want you all to myself. Come to me when you wanna get a Christina. ‘kay, sugar?”  Both of his hands are underneath your shirt, pinching and tugging at your nipples making you whine desperately, squeezing your legs shut.

Chris is so good at finding your sweet spots. You can’t say anything other than a pathetic “‘kay.” In response.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispers down your ear, still squeezing and pulling at your nipples. You whimper into his neck. You fucking loved Chris’ praise. Your puffy and red buds are fully hard and perked out now, sticking out your shirt to match with your slutty piercings alongside them.

“W-Want me to give you another blowjob? Just like the last time we were here alone.” You ask genuinely desperate for a breath. He looks back up at you after being severely distracted by your tits.

“Nevermind me, baby. I wanna make you feel so fucking good tonight. I wanna make you cum, Ma. Over and over. To make up for being such a dick earlier. Do you wanna help me change my tongue piercing? It’s for a good purpose, trust me, sugar.”

You’ve grown so impatient. You just wanted to shove him on the stretcher and fuck him senseless. But you oblige anyway.

Chris opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out. You twist the ball sitting right on top of his tongue and unscrew it carefully. You bite your lips in focus as he has his mouth agape, waiting patiently.

You successfully take the entire bar out. Leaving his tongue completely bare. He looks naked without it.

“Good girl. Now just sit down on the stretcher for me, baby.” 

You sit down as Chris follows behind not long after.

He leans in slowly underneath your jaw to pepper soft kisses across your neck. You can feel the tip of his nose skim gently across your skin.

The sudden feeling of the cold shard of metal on your skin mixes with his hot breath and warm hands reaching under your shirt again.

He moves his head down teasingly to the roses of your nipples. Breathing on them slightly. That was enough for you to whine out as you start to grab onto Chris’ hands. 

“You’re so sensitive, sugar…I wonder if it’s because of these slutty piercings.” He coos down into your ear connivingly. You feed your bottom lip into your mouth and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

His hands hastily tug onto the waistband of your pants. Trying to undo the button and zipper.

“Take these off, Ma… let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” As Chris pants out his words, he preps his different jewellery to put in whilst positioned in between your legs.

You sigh out a “Yes, Chris.” before twisting the button out and unzipping your pants and pulling them off completely.

You kick off your pants impatiently. You closed your legs, Chris staring down at you, completely vulnerable like this made you feel timid. What was underneath were deep, cherry red panties. Fully lace, barely hiding how fucking wet you are.

“Holy shit… you have such a perfect ass, sugar. How come you’ve never shown me this side of you before? You’re so fucking sexy.” He breathes. Worshipping the round cherries of your ass cheeks. Trying his hardest to not bite at them and leave a bruise.

“I-I like to make you feel good… because it makes me feel good.” You shiver under Chris’ touch. He rises to a full stance to lean over you, he sticks his tongue out again.

“Put the vibrator in, Ma.” With no hesitation, you screw it inside. You can already see the metal inside it start to condensate from his breathy pants. Chris pulls you into a deep kiss. The piercing feels so much more heavy. His soft and taffy tongue with the thick, steel bar in between made you so fucking turned on. You wrap your legs around Chris’ waist and he hums into your mouth in approval. Pressing his tent into your soaking wet panties.

He pulls away leaving a long and sloppy string of spit on both of your lips. He crouches down again and grips your thighs. Your hips buckle upwards in shock as he forcefully spreads your legs open.

“You’re so wet for me… such a good girl, aren’t you?” His voice echoes onto your clothed cunt. He gently rubs at your swollen clit with the pad of his finger slowly just to tease you.

He breathes on your pussy making your whole body tremble. You moan out into the air desperately wanting Chris to devour you.

He moves his head to smother gentle kisses across your thighs, his irises flushed baby pink with so much lust. He grunts into your blushing skin, glancing up at you to admire how fucking hot you look every now and again.

“Chris…”

“Yes, baby?”

“Fucking eat me out already…”

“Of course, Ma.”

He pulls your lace panties to the side slowly. Revealing your dripping wet pussy. “Fuck…” Chris moans as he drags his hand into his sweats.

“You have such a pretty wet pussy for me, Ma.” He whimpers on your clit as he touches himself underneath the stretcher. You become agitated at his slow pace and grab his hair and force his mouth onto you.

He grunts in surprise as he laps up at your juices. “Fuck yes, baby. J-just like that…” You speak into the air. You throw your head back as your back arches. Your moans and whimpers intoxicate the atmosphere and only do nothing but make Chris harder than he was before.

“You’re doing so good for me… If you keep this up I might cum soon.” You rebutt how good you feel just for Chris to hear. He moans a quick little “Mhm.” every single time you praise him. When he sucks on your clit, your legs lock and wrap around his head tightly. Keeping him in place. 

He pulls away, suddenly. Your juices smothered all over his lips and chin. You raise your head to see Chris with his tongue out, turning on his vibrator piercing. As soon as he does, there’s a low hum sound.

He leans in and presses it against your hot pink clit. Your hips jolt up and your thighs shudder. “F-fuck! O-oh my god…” Your moans have become so rowdy that people from outside can hear. Like either you or Chris give a fuck.

He can’t help it. He loves it when you lose all control. He loves it when you let go. He grabs onto your thighs as an attempt to try and keep you still while he rubs the toy on your tight cunt.

“I-I’m so close..!” Chris’ tongue stays in the same motion as before. Your body still shaking and your eyes roll into the back of your skull with euphoria.

“I-I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum… C-cumming, c-cum-...” You feel your orgasm crawl up from the pits of your stomach to the furthest depths of your brain. The hold your thighs have around Chris’ head is incredibly tight, to the point where he can’t move.

Chris remains still as you ride out your high until you eventually calm down. He stands up fully and turns the vibrator off.

You gaze up at the ceiling, exhausted. Your head fuzzy and your chest rising and falling heavily from the amount of cum you released on Chris’ tongue.

The light you see is dimmed when Chris leans over you as he licks your juices off of his lips.

“How was it, Ma? ‘You enjoy it?” He beams down at you, you giggle at the way he’s talking because of the vibrator.

“You sound funny.” You sigh, he chuckles and leans down to peck a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll take that as a yes then, sugar.”

“It felt so good.” You smile wholeheartedly up at him.

“I know it was, sugar. Sugar’s a fitting nickname for you, you know, your pussy tastes sweet, like sugar!”

“Oh, shut up. Otherwise I’m never coming here for that Christina.”

𓆩☥𓆪

Author’s Note no.2: YAYYY PART 2 FINALLY OUTTT. I’m so happy with this one honestly and I’m sorry it took forever to come outttt. I have another Matt one planned for y’all so stay tuned ;) I’ll see you later pookies. 

༝༚༝༚, Maxine.

Taglist: @gamermattsgf @luverboychris @worldlxvlys @chrissystur @chaosisalwayscrying @bellasfavbisexual @luvmxtt @tillies33ssss @breeloveschris @mattdamunch @b2cute @stasiesturn @luvangelbreak @fmdmbaa

[a-hermit-pining]

Geto as a House Husband

Genre: Fluff Pairing: House husband Geto x Reader AN: I love him. He's so damn pretty. Who should I write next?

Have you seen him? He is mother material. Born to cook forced to slay. Let's say in a different world, you whisk this beautiful man into the domestic bliss of marriage.

Massive cottage core vibes with this one. He is very taken by the idea of not being regarded as a killing machine. Immediately busies himself with the task of decorating your shared home.

Just take this man away. Elope to mountains and save him (hermit begs you).

Wedding planning is another demon. He debates every single decision. Asking you about your preference between white gardenias or white peonies. (You love him and he is too sweet for you to say out loud that you for the end of the world cannot distinguish the flowers)

He creates elaborate flowcharts to compare the pros and cons of different cake flavors, or insists on stress-testing the honeymoon resort's structural integrity with a cursed technique (much to the staff's bewilderment).

Let's not even get into Gojo's best man speech. No one really recovered from that.

DIY projects are his shit. Renovating a raggedy old dresser into a vintage masterpiece is where his magic lies. Let this man cook.

Your home with him is a a whimsical blend of vintage finds and hand-stitched throw pillows adorned with subtle wards against lingering curses. Even the strategically placed spider plants weren't just decorative – they doubled as a natural barrier against negative energy (a discovery that both surprised and amused you).

His transition into a normal 'monkey' life was endearingly awkward, like the time he spent hours meticulously decoupaging a floral pattern onto a chair, muttering about the inefficiency of glue compared to a simple binding spell.

And the day Suguru is introduced to the world of crocheting, your world flips on its axis. The pure look of joy on his face unravels the seams of your heart as he presents you with the mood changing octopus on your birthday.

Weekends with him are craft days. With a classic rom-com in the background as he sits next to you, his hands busy in the dance of needles and yarn. Better even your fingers run through his hair, braiding his hair only to wake up to your husband with perfect mermaid waves next day.

You both are the kind of sickly sweet couple that cause Shoko to gag in cringe during holiday gatherings.

Your husband glows with the simplicity of life. His hands busy themselves with crafts, chores, gardening, never a moment of rest even in the hull of domesticity.

He is your Disney princess that rushes out to refill the bird feeder with the first rays of Sun, hums pleasantly at the sight of a perfectly baked batch of cookies, or paints the most delightful sceneries on your ceilings.

Geto Suguru was made to create. He loves the fresh scent of sheets, experimenting with new flavors of tea, or going down the path of BookTok with Faerie romances much to your astonishment.

It isn't long before, you both end up adopting teeny tiny twins from the local orphanage. Suguru's darling girls he spends his life nurturing.

He took to fatherhood with the same surprising zeal he brought to everything else. His days were filled with braiding tiny pigtails, reading bedtime stories with dramatic voice inflections (complete with a surprisingly convincing rendition of a grumpy troll), and building elaborate pillow forts that rivaled any jujutsu barrier.

And on nights when dreams of a different reality kept him away, you held his hand in yours. Calling your girls for a family sleepover in the living room. That was all it took to whisk the sadness away from your beloved's eyes.

[lightlycareless]

uuu just imagine reading manga with naoya in bed while being cuddled up together <3<3

Hello!!!

Ok so this is sweet—kind of domestic amirite? oof. I love me some domestic Naoya when he's nothing but a loving husband. akgfhaksjghkjaghjkashgjas and a nerd too ahahah awww anyways...

warnings: very tiny mentions of smut. implications really. fluff outside of that.

happy reading!!

Imagine it being a cold snowy day where Naoya doesn’t have to go out on missions, tend to clan responsibilities, or anything else.

A day where he can simply spend his time in nothing but his favorite, deserving things, such as catching up with his favorite series, enjoying a well-deserved break from all those countless missions, and of course, spend time with you—his needy wife who didn’t hold back from letting him know how much she missed him.

“What would you like to do today?” is how the days would begin, with you peppering endless kisses across his face while the two snuggled underneath the sheets.

“Hmmm, I feel like spending the whole day in bed.” He sighs, kissing the top of your head. “The new chapter of the manga I told you about came out yesterday, and I want to read it.”

“I’ll make breakfast, then.” You smile, ready to push yourself up from the futon and rush to the kitchen—though Naoya had something else in mind too.

“What’s the hurry, my love?” he murmurs, pulling you back to him. “Going away from me so soon? I just came back…”

“N—No, of course not… I could never!” you blush. “I just… just wanted to make the best of today, you know? Please you.”

“You know, there’s one thing that will immediately please me.” He breathes against your ear, you shudder.

“…I still have to get your bath ready.”

“Can’t see why we can’t do both.”

You press your lips together, heated by his words.

“Ok, but we can’t get too distracted—I still want you to enjoy your day! You rarely get to rest as of lately….” You pout, he laughs before leaning to give you a kiss.

“With you by my side, there’s no way I cannot.”

After that is done, followed by a relaxing bath and a delicious meal prepared by you—Naoya insists in only being fed by you, not the staff; you happily oblige—you’re quick to take your place by his side on the futon, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and rest your head against his chest while his free hand holds up one of his favorite magazines, the one that publishes his favorite anime of the moment.

“I read they had to reprint this issue solely because of one mistake. Nothing too big, but apparently big enough to have the whole publisher pull out the magazine…”

“Gee, that must’ve been quite the task—And to allow it too! Is the author that big or something?”

“Kind of, he’s the best seller at the moment.”

“No wonder, if he’s not happy, that means no business for them.” You sigh. “I wonder if the change is even noticeable.”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I’ll figure out now—they usually point it out anyways.” Naoya squeezes you against him, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, that’s sounds like a wonderful plan!” You grin. “And if you get hungry, or want something to snack on, just let me know and I’ll bring it to you.”

Naoya blushes.

“I love you.”

It’s your turn to blush.

“I love you too.”

The rest of the evening would go on that way, with Naoya reading his manga, eyes intently fixed on the panels while murmuring to himself whenever particularly interesting scene occurs, if not scoffing when a character does something stupid—just as he did in real life; both gestures that you found incredibly cute, how relaxed he is when doing things he loves.

And though he was very focused on that, he was still attentive enough to your presence and gestures, hands and lips looking for yours whenever you reached out to him or vice versa, as well as allowing you to feed him, careful enough to not distract him that much.

Because you just couldn’t snap him out of trance, you know? He looked so adorable!!

Although it would turn a bit… too much soon enough.

“I don’t—I don’t want anything else, Y/N—” he protests when you try to shove another piece of popcorn into his mouth, going as far as moving away, but you simply stuck to him.

“Come on, you have to eat!”

“Not to this point!” Naoya gasps, stomach full to the point of exploding! Of so it feels. “I don’t—I don’t want anything else!”

“Tough luck, Naoya—If you didn’t want me to spoil you, you shouldn’t have stayed home!” you giggle, and Naoya just relents, because he can’t do anything else when he’s putty to both your adorable charm and insistence, his beloved wife.

A side of Naoya that fortunately, is just for your eyes to see.

I just realized that Naoya was the kind of guy to say: "I want a wife that is submissive, that is only attentive to me and knows her place and yadda yadda yadda" until you came along and he was like "ok I like that but... I also want kisses...."

Idk I just keep thinking he's very desperate for affection hahaha call it ooc I DO NOT CARE I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM. 😶😶

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small thing 🥺❤️ him getting all flustered because you're always so caring to him is AGH healing!!! We could literally change him...

Now, thank you so much for sending in this ask ❤️❤️❤️ take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the albatross - m. murdock

a/n: hi everyone! so this is that weird and off putting reader i was mentioning earlier! she's not that weird but she's sort of odd so yeah. also i know bucky is the winter soldier but idk how else to tag this so oh well! i do have lore and stuff for readers time as a soldier so i'll include that in later installments! i was kind of in a writers block and this pushed me out of that. so enjoy! please please tell me what you thought and if you want more! warnings: cursing, mentions of death, war, torture, pain, people being dead, reader having horrible people skills and ptsd, mentions of sex maybe? uhmmm in general reader is just sort of strange and this is her and matt's early relationship, so sorry if i missed anything ! word count: 3.6k summary: you have spent the past ninety (give or take) years tortured and in pain. then, a handsome stranger comes into your life and changes everything. pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!fem!reader now playing: the albatross - taylor swift "i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"

You’re working a morning shift at the bakery when he comes in. The pastries in the case are laid out just so, and you have been meticulously working on this sign for your fall specials. You are determined to focus on something that is not how poorly you slept, your hair tied up in a braid behind you as you work.

You’re determined to get these pumpkin stems drawn correctly; a green marker clenched in your hand. Your knuckles are white with the tension you are holding in your fingers. It’s around eight in the god damn morning, and you have been awake since around three a.m.

You don’t even hear the bell ring, nor do you hear the click-clacking of a cane on the tiled floors, you only hear an awkward clearing of the throat, to which you spin around, about to throw the marker at the customer, but stopping when you realize what you’re doing.

The customer smiles awkwardly at you, and you recognize instantly that between his glasses and cane, he is most definitely blind. You almost feel silly, until you remember everything, and you wish that there was more moments where you think you’re silly for being paranoid.

And there’s something else, too. You look at this man for a few moments, before realizing that he is so god damn hot. Which, is weird, because you have not felt anything for any man or woman in years, too busy focusing on other things, too busy thinking about everything that’s happened. But god, the stubble tracing his face, the way his dark hair falls, and the way his hand wraps around his cane..

But what gets you really is his lips. Maybe you’re staring, maybe you don’t care. But his lips are this pretty pink, and you find yourself getting lost in the nicest daydream you’ve had in a very long time..

And then, you snap out of that fantasy to remind yourself that you are working and don’t even know his name.

“Hi, sorry,” You cough awkwardly, “Was just focused,” You tell him, approaching the counter. You wipe your sweaty hands on your apron, before putting on your best ‘I’m a friendly bakery worker who just wants to sell you pastries, also tip me please!’ smile on. “What can I get you?” You ask.

“Do you guys have apple turnovers?” It is the first time this fall that is under 65 degrees, so you understand that there is some cravings for autumn snacks.

“Yeah, yeah,” You move towards the case to get some, “Just the one?”

“Three, actually. For the office.” He hums.

“Some big office,” Your voice is a sarcastic mumble, not really for the an to hear but he chuckles at it, and you almost think it’s weird that he an hear you but your brain tells you not to judge, since there is a whole lot the handsome stranger could judge you for.

“We’re a small business. Very friendly, very personable.”

You cannot help yourself, and you find yourself asking, “What sort of business are you in?” What the handsome stranger does not know is that you are insatiably angry at yourself for asking that because you had pretty much promised yourself that you were never going to have any sort of relationship—it wouldn’t be fair to them, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And as previously established, that wasn’t a problem, because you weren’t really attracted to anyone before this handsome stranger waltzed on into the bakery.

“I’m a lawyer.” He smiles. A lawyer.

“Well, Mr. Lawyer, your total is 10.75.” He pulls out a twenty and when you hand him change, he asks, “Which one is the five?” and you wordlessly pull out the five from the stack you handed him, before he puts the rest of the change in his wallet, dropping a five and a small card into your tip jar. “You have a good day now.” He hums, before making his way out of the bakery.

You watch intently, maybe a little too intently, and you hear the voice of your best friend from your teenage years in your head saying, ‘You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.’ And a small smile finds its way to your face.

Then, you notice the card he dropped in the jar before fishing it out. On the front, it reads,

‘Matthew M. Murdock, Attorney at Law.’ On the back, you read,

‘Nelson, Murdock & Page, Attorneys at Law,

Hell’s Kitchen’

Accompanied by this is a phone number and an address.

You pocket the card, and before you know it, costumers are flooding in, and you ease into the day, forgetting about the handsome stranger until you leave the bakery at around six o’clock that night. You finish cleaning up from the day before letting the woman who works to prep for the next day. Then you leave, heading home to the too quiet, too small apartment.

You don’t have much in your apartment. You sleep with a gun under your pillow and you have a cheap TV on your dresser. You spend most of your time catching up on books or movies. You make yourself box mac and cheese before eating it right out of the pot, sitting on your kitchen floor.

As you cook the mac and cheese, you say his name over and over again, letting it sit on your tongue and escape your lips, thinking about him intently. You glance at your watch and decide that maybe it’s early enough that he might still be at his office.

You fish your tiny flip phone out of your pocket, dialing the number on the card and waiting. You’re holding your breath as the phone rings. A thought runs through your brain that maybe he gave you a wrong number and then your brain immediately reminds you that no man is ever going to give you his card, printed out, just to fuck with you.

“Nelson, Murdock & Page, how can I help you?” A voice asks, and you blink, hesitating for a minute.

“Uh, I’m looking for Matthew.” You say, and there’s some light shuffling, and again, this regret shoots over you until you hear a very smooth, very familiar voice,

“Hey,” His voice is like honey and you long to hear it clearer—The first time you’ve desired a better phone. “I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yeah, well, Maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”

“You know usually, that’s my line.”

“Wait, that works on people?” You hear his laugh on the other side of the phone and a shiver runs down your spine as you itch to make him laugh more.

“Telling people they’re beautiful doesn’t hit the same when you’re blind.”

“I guess not..” There’s a silence on his end of the phone, before he says,

“I never got your name.” For a moment, you consider giving him a fake name, but you find yourself giving him your name, the one that your parents gave you all those years ago. It’s foreign on your lips, a rare gem that you do not often give out. He repeats it and you swear you could almost die right then and there. “What are you doing tonight?” 

You’re taken back by his forwardness, not anticipating that maybe this handsome stranger, Matthew, wants to be around you just as bad as you want to be around him. And then you look around at your dingy apartment, with your boxy TV, the gun under your pillow, and you, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, having just finished eating box mac and cheese with a wooden spoon that just for a second tastes like the one your mother used to cook with, the one you’d get tastes of sauces, soups, anything you could get your hands on.

And then you remember everything that happened after those days sneaking tastes of your mom’s cooking and you feel guilty for pursuing handsome Matthew, because he has no idea what he is getting into.

“Just finished dinner. Was planning on just relaxing.” Reading until around midnight and then getting an hour or two of sleep.

“Well, how about we go do something?” You detect a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself,

“Like, like a date?” And he laughs again.

“Yes, like a date.”

“I don’t know,” You start, “Usually I have to ask my father’s permission before I go out on the town with a boy.” You want to slap your hand over your mouth because you sound your age. Oh god.

“Really?”

“..No.” You hope he finds your weird, totally not a cover up, joke funny. And he laughs again, telling you,

“You’re funny.”

Yeah, really fucking hilarious.

“So, a date?”

“A date.” You consider this for a moment. A date might lead somewhere real. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere you haven’t been in.. years. Years might be an understatement. Your heart thuds against your chest, and you find yourself full of that nostalgic thing you call desire.

“What would we do?”

“Anything you want.” He tells you.

“Anything? That’s dangerous.” Because this whole thing is dangerous, you want to tell him, maybe you should mention the whole age thing, the whole assassin thing, the whole brainwashing thing, the whole thing.

“Yeah? What dangerous things do you have in mind, doll?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear to breathe, because it feels like someone just took the winds out of your sails. Suddenly it is 1940 something and a boy is flirting with you, and you have to act like a lady in hopes that he will treat you right.

Odd thing to think about today, but you’re an odd person.

“What about ice cream and a bookstore?” You ask, and for a moment you want to hit yourself for not suggesting something cool like a club or something and then you realize that you have no idea what counts as a cool date in this day and age.

Did you know when you were a teenager and had the world at your fingertips, eighty (give or take) years ago?

But to your surprise, handsome Matthew just responds,

“That sounds nice. Do you want me to pick you up at your apartment?”

The idea of handsome Matthew being at your tiny apartment that is not suitable for a date makes your heart race.

“I’ll meet you at the ice cream place in an hour. You know the one near the bakery?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

“Yeah. See you.” And when you hang up, you realize just what has happened. For the first time since 1944, You have landed yourself a date with a handsome man that is genuinely interested in you and in your infinite wisdom decided that ice cream and books were the best way to impress him.. Books.. Blind man.

You lightly bang your head against the counter behind you, muttering to yourself how stupid that was. But you an only dwell on it for a moment before you are standing up and making your way over to your room to get ready.

You’re still in your work uniform. And you look like an idiot. So, you clean yourself up and pull on something presentable, something comfortable. There is no confusion as to the nature of this meet up, you two are going on a date and you asked a blind man to go to a bookstore. You feel like an asshole. And you’re aware that you’re putting emphasis on that, but still!

You go through outfits and outfits, trying to figure out what an appropriate outfit is for this first date. You end up in something casual, and you hope you’re not underdressed. Honestly, you know you’re making a fuss over something as standard as a date, but you are genuinely desperate to have this go well.

You finally decide on an outfit and make your way out the door, grabbing your jacket and stepping out of the apartment. You stop outside of your door before turning around and going back into your room to change your top.

But eventually, you do get to the ice cream place Matt and you had discussed on the phone. And there he is, in all his glory, wearing the same outfit he wore when you saw him in the bakery that morning, only, without his tie, and he looks more disheveled. Somehow it’s more charming to see him like this, more exhilarating to imagine a life with such a low stakes man (You’ll look back on this thought later and laugh)

“Hi,” You greet, and Matt smiles in your direction.

“Hi.” He hums, and again, you feel nervous! So, before he can say much else, you blurt out,

“So, This is my first date in a while.. So. Sorry about that.” You say awkwardly.

“A while?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. You’re struck by the fact that he is around 70 years younger than you. “Like, a few months?”

A beat.

Handsome Matthew is much busier than you are, it seems.

“More like a couple of years.” And by ‘a couple’ you mean eighty some odd years, but Matt doesn’t need to know all of that right now. But he just hums and nods, before answering,

“That’s alright, I’ll be gentle.” Your face flushes, and with a nervous laugh, you ask,

“You mean we’ll take it slow?”

“Sure. Whatever. We’ll figure out the details of it all later.” His hand finds yours, and before you can protest he pulls you into the ice cream shop. Handsome Matthew orders chocolate chip cookie dough because he is perfect in every way, and you order..

“Butter pecan, please.” You get odd glances from Matthew and the seventeen year old minimum wage worker behind the counter, but neither of them say anything. You manage to beat Matthew to paying for the ice cream, and as you walk, he asks,

“Butter pecan? Really?” And you roll your eyes. Young people today, always judging.

“You’re lucky they didn’t have butterscotch, that’s my real favorite.” You respond, before taking a lick of the ice cream. Your handsome date, gives you another bizarre look.

“Okay, what’s your third favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Mm..” You take a few minutes to think about it, before deciding on your answer. “A tie between pistachio and coffee.” And at your answer, Matt laughs at you. You let out an offended gasp, although you’re not being serious, before asking, “what’s so horrible about that?”

“You have the ice cream preferences of an eighty year old,” He laughs and you laugh too, because oh, if only he knew.

“Sorry, my pallet is straight from the 40’s.” It’s a joke. That’s a joke. Not at all based in facts or actuality. You continue working through eating your ice cream and talking to your handsome date. “So, does the handsome lawyer have any family I should know about?”

“You think I’m handsome?” He grins, and your face flushes.

“Answer the question.”

“No siblings. My dad died when I was young and It’s only recently that I’ve been talking to my mother.” Interesting, you think, and then this dawning realization happens where you realize that the next thing out of his mouth will be the inevitable question, “How about your family?”

You consider lying but you decide against it. If this is going to lead anywhere good, you don’t want to base it off lies.

“Not much to say. I’m the sole survivor.” You shrug, keeping it vague. He frowns a bit before squeezing your hand.

“A couple of orphans, huh?”

You squeeze his back.

“Seems like it.”

You kind of aren’t over the death of your parents and your siblings and quite literally everyone you knew as a teenager and young adult—You’re not over so many fucking things that if you went through it all, you’d probably keep poor Handsome Matthew up all night.

But instead of talking about that, Matt finds himself walking with you to the bookstore. You hold the door open for him and begin to wander. You quickly move past the books on World War II, as if faced with an ex you want nothing to do with them.

You begin to look at the romance books, scrunching your nose at how cheesy and surface level so many of these young adult novels are. But then you remind yourself that you are a hundred years old. But you look like you’re in your late twenties, early thirties. As you’re looking at the books, Matthew makes his way to the aisle next to yours, and talks to you through the stacks.

“So, what’s your favorite book?”

“That’s like asking a mother her favorite child.” You answer quickly, and you hear him laugh. Your face flushes.

“Try for me.”

“Uh, I really love Great Gatsby. I’m kind of fascinated with the zombie genre, too, it’s sort of new and interesting, and uh, oh, I read this Neil Gaiman novel, uh, Stardust? I really liked that.” You confess. Matt listens as you fumble through novels, both of you making your way towards the end of the aisle.

“And movies?”

“Why is everything about me? I didn’t hear your favorite novel.”

“The Outsiders.” He responds, and you make a mental note to try and find it in the bookstore. “So, movies?”

You’ve had autonomy for around three years now, so.. Your movie knowledge has been kind of stunted, so you wrack your brain to try and come up with something impressive.

“I really like the Indiana Jones series, uh, oh, The Matrix, and..” You ponder your brain. “Oh! And King Kong!” You saw that one in the theatres for your thirteenth birthday.

“Like, the one that came out in 2017?” He asks, and again, you consider lying, because you actually have seen that one because when you looked up ‘King Kong’ it came out, and it really blew your mind how far CGI had come.

“No, the one that came out in ’33.” As if it is the most normal thing in the entire world.

“One of your favorite movies is one from 1933?” And the old woman in you wants to insist that you loved the decades you grew up in, and that seeing King Kong in the theatres was a marvelous thing because you could barely afford rent. And then you remember you shouldn’t reveal your history with the Great Depression to a man you’re on your first date with.

“Yup.” You assert, and ask, “You?”

“Star Wars, any of them, and the Princess Bride.” Again, you make a note to add it to your list.

“Interesting.” You hum, and you find The Outsiders, wanting to read it, to consume it, to consume him, and every thought he has. The two of you meet at the end of the aisle, too close to be platonic as his hands come to find your arms, and you shudder at the affection.

“Touch starved, huh?” He grins. You flush and roll your eyes.

“You’re so mean.” You huff, and he laughs. His hand moves up your arms and cups your jaw, enjoying the feeling of your warm cheeks.

“Well, you’re odd.”

“Odd?”

“Everything about you. Your movie tastes, your jokes, your ice cream flavors.” He hums, with a soft shrug. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just.. Trying to figure you out.”

“You’d be the first to accomplish such a feat.”

He laughs at that, and he’s so beautiful.. That you cannot help yourself when you lean up and gently press a soft kiss to those beautiful pretty pink lips that had caught your attention that morning. He kisses you back, without hesitation.

You feel at peace for the first time in years, as if everything you had gone through, every moment of torture and pain, has been worth it because it leads you to this. To Handsome Matthew, who kisses you so tenderly that no matter how simple it is, you are left breathless and desperate for more. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, pushing him back a bit, his back pressed against the stacks. The book in your hands is crumpled, and eventually, Matthew pulls away, before pushing you back a bit.

“Easy,” He says breathlessly, and you need the reminder, because you try to catch your breath. Holy shit. “Easy, easy..” he repeats, his hands rubbing up and down your arms a bit. “I’ve got you, just breath.” He laughs, and you lean your forehead against your shoulder. Fuck.

“When can I see you again?” Is your only thought, and he chuckles gently.

“Whenever you want.” He promises, and you nod, before leaning up to kiss him again.

One day you’ll tell him everything. You’ll tell him all of the horrible things you’ve done and have had done to you, and you’ll tell him why the nightmares came, and why they won’t ever go away. One day, you’ll tell handsome Matthew why you sleep with a gun under your pillow and why you have no family and why you are so odd.

For now, you decide that you deserve a few nice things.

And when he kisses back, you realize that maybe he is just as infatuated with you as you are with him. Maybe. Maybe he is full of secrets and his own horrors that plague him while he sleeps, and maybe that’s the unspoken reason you are so deeply fascinated with one another.

Maybe.

Maybe you’ve spent the past ninety years going from fight to fight, to nightmare to nightmare. Maybe you’re owed some time in the sun with Handsome Matthew.

Maybe.

[kynimdraws]

Fellas is it gay to travel together to a dude's homeland

Yone design ref for this verse can be seen in detail here

To see the story drabbles check this tag, or if you want general Yosante Runeterra works go to this tag!

Again story rambles under the cut lol

Their travel from Navori to Bel'zhun was uneventful, the worst thing being Yone's initial seasickness at the start of the trip. Despite that Yone was quite thrilled to see the world outside of Ionia. He often wondered if this was what his brother had seen years before their last encounter. It waa also nice that K'sante recalled a few of the things he had seen in these stops (a day in Bilgewater, three days in Piltover/Zaun), so it was not a wild whirlwind of him getting lost or stranded in strange lands.

The other man grounded him, made him feel...safe. The feeling reminded Yone of how he felt at home back in his more innocent childhood days, just a little.

As they finally reached Bel'zhun, K'sante eagerly brought Yone up on deck so both could see the Shurima harbor city coming closer and closer. Unlike the elegantly branching city of Navori (Ionia being famed for melding with their arboreal environment), Bel'zhun had a different kind of structural beauty carved from the harsh wind and sand.

"We still got a long ways to go before reaching Nazumah, but welcome to my homeland!"

Yone smiled. The morning heat was overwhelming and the lack of spiritual energy, a presence taken for granted in Ionia, was very different but not unwelcome. This was the lands that shaped K'sante, and he did join him because he wanted to know more.

In Bel'zhun, they take a few days to prepare for travel. K'sante even takes Yone to a bazaar where he sees a Nazumah cloth merchant selling their wares. There he buys Yone a travel cloak as a gift. Yone immediately wears it, feeling less out-of-place in his Ionian garb. He noted that the cloak's weight was heavy enough so it would not be blown too easily away by the strong desert wind and gave him decent protection from the sun. It was also...much thicker than what he expected for desert wear. Werent they supposed to be lighter to be cooler? In fact, K'sante kept wearing his thick gear even in the heat...

"Wouldn't your clothes be a hindrance while we travel out through the desert?"

K'sante laughs.

"Daylight is ideal for short hunts and trips. Longwr travel is done when the sun is low. Trust me, the desert isn't all heat."

Yone inwardly chastises himself for assuming, and nods.

After their prep, the two set off to the southwest with several other travelers going in and out through Bel'zhun for various businesses. And just as K'sante said, the desert certainly was much colder at night...and the cloak was perfect in keeping Yone warm. By day they would take shelter in the shade produced by the ruins or crags of rock that stuck out in the dunes. All were apparently remains of ancient wars and civilizations, according to K'sante.

It was hard work trekking the desert. For Yone, the best part of traveling was around dawn, when the sun would rise and they would settle for the day. No matter how tired the two were, K'sante would talk about some folk tale or a story he had related to the area they were at. He was very expressive during these moments, pointing out to the skies, the landmarks, or just making gestures to emphasize his narration. Regardless of what he did, Yone would listen, and quietly place his hand over the other man's own whenever K'sante used it to bring Yone closer to him. This often happened when his storytelling got intense. Initially K'sante would apologize about it, but over time the two didn't even bring it up.

After all, they felt like they belonged, being together like this under the vast sky as life went on around them.

[svt-sunnie]

SUNNIE | 엘르 코리아_ELLE KOREA ! Ask Me Anything

893K views | 91K likes | 1.02M Subscribers

Premiered Feb 29, 2024 #ELLEaskmeanything

@seolboba @allthings-fandoms @miyx-amour

ASK ME ANYTHING (with Sunnie)

10 QUESTIONS

“Hello,*waves* I’m Sunnie from SEVENTEEN, and today I’ll be answering questions from Carats that <Elle> has provided me with!”

Q1 - What is your favorite SVT/Solo Song?

“Oh, that’s a good question! For Seventeen, it’s probably Mansae, Kidult, and Heaven’s Cloud. And for my solo songs, I love Star, perfect 10, and Our Street.”

Q2 - Do you prefer Blonde hair or Red hair?

“Hmm, I dye my hair blonde quite often, but it gets damaged kind of easily, and I had my hair dyed red during Super, and I really liked how it turned out, so red!”

Q3 - I miss your song covers.. Can we expect any anytime soon?

“Well I’m kind of busy recently and I haven’t had a lot of time to do any.. but you can expect some in the next few months!”

Q4 - Noona! How did it feel to win the Daesang last year?

“I still don’t think I’ve fully processed it? *laughs* it was such a happy moment for all of us, and it felt so nice to receive it with all 14 members on stage.”

Q5 - Favorite acting role?

“Mei, since Train to Busan was the first movie I was in, it was such a fun experience and.. probably Hong Jia? I had a really great time acting as her, and I’m excited for Season 2.”

Q6 - If you could do any concept, which would it be?

“I like scary concepts; I want to do more of those definitely.”

Q7 - Do you want another pet? If so what kind?

“Another pet?” *hums* “I already have 2 dogs; still, if I were to get another pet, it would probably be a cat. But I’d have to discuss it with The 8 and Jun since we live together.”

Q8 - Which era had your favorite stage outfits?

“Personally I liked Fear, Home;Run, and Super!”

Q9 - What are Yuming’s 2024 goals?

“I feel like I have the same goals every year.. *laughs* I just want to cherish life to the fullest and happily enjoy it with my members as well.”

Q10 - How do you feel about the success of your last solo album, and what do you hope for with your new one?

“Okay, last question! Well, Obsessions' success was something I didn’t expect at all? I’m very thankful for all the support that Carats gave me and even more thankful that I won Album of the Year in 2022! “And for Good, Bad, Ugly, I just hope the album can bring my fans a lot of comfort like it brought me.”

“Today, I’ve answered all the questions submitted by Carats! Thank you so much for watching, and make sure to check out my solo album that just released, Good, Bad, Ugly!” “Bye, everyone!”

[lilybug-02]

CT Comic Speedpaint - Page ??? (Part 25) I’m not keeping track 😔

[dantelionwishes]

and they lived happily ever after, the end!

[eisenartworks]

One things I genuinely love abt opm is that being kind to kids and caring for children is a virtue

[ghosts-of-love]

yo anyone wanna come to a national trust place with me today? 🍁🍂

[countess-of-edessa]

i don’t need a boyfriend and my life is full and fulfilling without any romance! as long as there is a cute boy texting me constantly, going to all social events with me and hanging out with me there the whole time, driving me everywhere, hanging out with me during all our formal events, spending at least three or four hours a week just talking with me in his car, sending me pictures of sunsets he sees, complimenting all my outfits, and going with me to get ice cream and look at the moon together, and he only does all of these things with me and nobody else, i do not need a boyfriend to feel fulfilled.

[ronanlynchbf]

"all this foreshadowing abt declan dying and then he didn't even die" well personally i think declan got murdered dead by mstief in greywaren so. actually 2 me he did die. Badly.

[jamelalatise]