#ordering a cake and being told to add a tip to the order with no indication of what amount is expected for that

[satanfemme]

generally I'm not the kind of person to complain about "tipping culture" in america, but sometimes. oof. come on.

[moonprismo]

╭︎ ✧︎ : 𝓶𝔂⁸︎𝓬𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓼 Ꮺ࣭

┆︎ 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉/𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒷𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓈

┆︎☁️ •︎ 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯 // 𝓰𝓷!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 // 𝔀.𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 𝓷/𝓪

┆︎𓏲࣪ 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗈𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽? 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖽

╰︎ ✧︎ : 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 : @tinystarstay (𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀୧˚

the customer that you remember because of his distinct appearance || you remember him because he sometimes forgets what he orders and likes it a certain way || manages to come only when your at work ((you know cause you asked people if they’ve seen him before and they say no))

“uhm..i’d like a grande iced white chocolate caramel macchiato, extra mocha drizzle with cinnamon powder on top & extra ice. and a warmed blueberry muffin”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖲𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺୧˚

the customer that makes you blush and giggle like a school girl || his drink usually changes between a hot and an iced drink || he likes the way you make his drink because you look so focused and you’re quick

“may i have a hot chocolate today? a grande in a venti please with extra whipped cream. also 2 warmed chocolate chip cookies & a coffee cake.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖸𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈୧˚

the new regular customer || he doesn’t drink coffee and usually asks for suggestions and he usually gets what you suggest || he’s gonna be one that wants to try every drink first

“i really liked that chai you made me yesterday! i’d like one of those but big and iced. maybe add a little extra vanilla and an extra chai pump too. let’s add 2 double smoked bacons & a birthday cake pop.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀୧˚

the on and off again customer || you’d see him like every so often and he gets the same thing each time so you remember his drink || you both ended up following each other on instagram because he works as a bartender and goes live while he’s at work

“oh hey what’s up! can i get double tall hot french vanilla latte with whip. thank you”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖲𝖺𝗇୧˚

the customer that comes in with his cat || you also remember him because he never comes by himself, he’s always got his little kitty in this little bag and she’s always looking around || he’s very sweet and tips really good when you complement and boop his kitties nose

“hi there, can i just get a trenta lemonade with peach & strawberry inclusions. uhmm.. a croissant for byeol and a lemon loaf, please and thank you.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂୧˚

the juice customer || he told you specifically that he can’t handle coffee because of his acid reflux and when you told him you sell apple juice he was hooked || comes in orders and then dives right into whatever he was working on

“i’d like a venti apple juice with no ice.. wait. can i get it hot? i can? then a venti hot apple juice and 2 vanilla bean scones.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖶𝗈𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀୧˚

the coffee-holic customer || you worry about him sometimes || he already seems jumpy and with the amount of shots he gets in 1 drink is threatening sometimes || you once made his drink and tried it… you had no idea espresso could be so 𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖈𝖞

“i’d like to try something a friend of mine got once.. in a venti iced cup can i get 8 shots of espresso with extra ice… no no water it’s fine. that’s it~”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈୧˚

the easy new customer || he likes sweets every once in a while but not all the time || he’s the customer you give extra shots/free pastries too || will sometimes bring you treats he made at home for being so nice

“i’d like a small iced americano with 2 sugars and extra ice. oh and a lemon loaf please.”

[chaoslulled]

' you haven't gotten used to it yet -- the way that i look at you in this life. ' - from erwin, reincarnation

it's  supposed  to  be  a  good  thing,  getting  the  memories  of  your  past  life.    it's  supposed  to  mean  that  you're  either  one  of  the  nine,  or  there  was  unfinished  business  that  you  still  had  to  take  care  of.    it  was  always  just  a  legend,  something  kenny  used  to  mumble  about  after  he'd  come  home  smelling  of  cheap  beer    &    fighting  with  his  boyfriend.    uri  always  called  a  few  hours  later  to  check  in    &    make  sure  he  was  fine,    &    the  one  time  levi  had  mentioned  it  to  him,  uri  had  looked  almost  horrified  that  it  had  been  spoken.      ever  since  then,  levi  hadn't  mentioned  it.      it  felt  like  something  foolish,  like  something  a  child  is  told  in  order  to  fall  asleep  at  night.  

now  though,  now  he  understands  why  uri  was  horrified    ––    him    &    kenny  had  already  had  their  memories    &    were  working  through  them.      which  it's  already  hard  enough  to  get  kenny  to  talk  on  a  daily  basis,  let  alone  with  something  like  this.      

still,  levi  hadn't  thought  anything  really  of  it.      now  though,  now  remembering  feels  like  a  CURSE.      a  curse  because  he  looks  at  erwin  playing  with  bryn    &    remembers      ––        remembers  that  he  let  him  die.        that  he  had  made  the  choice  on  that  damn  rooftop  to  follow  through  with  erwin's  wishes,    &    let  him  die  a  hero's  death  on  the  battlefield.        he  had  tucked  him  away  in  that  home  to  rot    ––    left  his  memories  there  too,  with  his  face  in  his  knees    &    the  damn  brats  squawking  excitedly  about  new  discoveries  that  were  being  made.  

it  hits  him  when  he  least  expects  it,  the  guilt    &    the  way  that  the  bile  rises  in  his  throat.      sometimes  he's  fine,  going  about  his  business    ––    he's  got  a  cake  order  to  fill  for  some  kid's  birthday  party    &    the  second  his  tip  touches  the  buttercream  to  add  the  icing,  it  slips;      blue  turns  into  red    &    for  a  moment  all  he  can  see  is  the  blood  on  his  hands.        how  many  titans  had  he  slain  thinking  that  they  were  mindless  monsters?        how  many  lives  had  he  ended  even  when  he  knew  they  were  humans?          would  his  squad  ever  forgive  him  in  that  forest  after  zeke  turned  them?        would  erwin  ever  forgive  him  for  giving  up?

&    then  it  morphs  into  erwin's  suicide  charge    &    it  gets  to  be  too  much    ––    hands  shake      &    he's  forced  to  put  his  work  down,  abandon  it.      instead,  he  sits  with  his  knees  pulled  up,  precariously  balanced  on  the  horrible  little  stool  that  had  almost  creaked  underneath  erwin's  weight  when  they  had  first  met  up  here.        when  they  had  been  under  the  guise  of  groceries    &    misconstrued  intentions.      he  presses  his  face  into  them    &    attempts  to  breathe  through  the  memories,  the  overwhelming  sadness  that  settles  into  his  chest  like  lead.    he  attempts  to  breathe  through  the  overwhelming  guilt  that  sits  over  his  head  like  a  cloud,  threatening  to  open  its  downpour  at  any  minute.  

farlan's  presence  when  he  goes  home  most  days  isn't  welcomed  either    ––    he  remembers  being  the  reason  that  farlan  died.      he  remembers  watching  him  salute  as  he  was  broken  in  half  by  titan  jaws,  all  because  he  had  been  selfish    &    hellbent  on  killing  erwin.        he  had  been    so  foolish  then;      what  kind  of  leader  was  he?        looking  at  isabel  makes  him  cry    ––    he  remembers  her  head  rolling  underneath  his  boot    &    closing  her  eyes.          seeing  hange  makes  his  throat  clog  up  with  emotion;      the  fourth  he  had  had  to  let  go.          him    &    mike  don't  cross  paths  as  much;    he  still  remembers  finding  bits    &    pieces  of  him  strewn  across  the  landscape.      

there's  the  twisted  guilt  there  too  of  how  he  managed  to  move  on,  how  he  managed  to  find  happiness  in  terms    &    conditions  even  though  he  shouldn't  have.      he  looks  at  farlan    &    sees  acutely  every  mistake  that  he's  made.      he  looks  at  erwin    &    sees  a  life  that  he  had  wanted  so  badly    &    knows  that  he  should  leave.      that  erwin  has  a  life  here  now,  one  full  of  happiness.        being  a  father  looks  good  on  him    ––    bryn  is  a  bundle  of  joy    &    he  finally  gets  the  opportunity  to  be  good.      to  be  happy.

there's  also  mortification  in  his  veins  for  the  fact  that  he  had  been  with  zeke  of  all  people,  the  very  one  who  had  ended  erwin's  life.        who  had  ended  so  many  scouts'  lives,  including  his  squad.        who  had  corrupted  so  much    &    destroyed  so  much.        he  hadn't  been  able  to  stomach  even  seeing  erwin  for  a  week  straight  once  zeke  was  remembered,    &    that  was  before  he  had  thought  of  the  half  assed  distancing  plan  to  get  himself  out  of  erwin's  life  before  it  was  too  late.

when  levi's  memories  had  come  back,  he  had  distanced  for  as  long  as  he  could.      he  had  begged  erwin  to  let  him  go    ––    there  was  too  much  at  stake    &    levi  has  always  been  the  catalyst.        he  can  see  that  now;      he  is  a  harbinger  of  death,  the  very  thing  that  comes  at  you  with  a  scythe  when  you  look  in  old  tales.        getting  away  now  would  be  the  best  thing  for  erwin    ––      &    if  he  had  managed  to  do  it  before  erwin  regained  his  memories,  everything  would  have  been  fine.        erwin  could've  been  blissfully  unaware,  happy  as  a  single  father    &    thriving  with  a  child  that  looks  at  him  like  he's  hung  the  moon.  

levi  is  selfish  though.        levi  doesn't  do  it  in  time.        &    it's  how  he  ends  up  here,  pressed  into  the  window  frame  of  erwin's  living  room.        the  moon  is  high  up  above  the  city    &    full  tonight;      it  illuminates  the  backyard  that's  full  of  children's  toys    &    a  grill  that  he  has  a  sneaking  suspicion  that  erwin  has  some  horrid  apron  for.        some  fatherly  joke    &    the  company  he  keeps.          his  temple  leans  against  it,  slate  reflecting  the  glow  back  as  he  swallows  hard.        he's  been  too  quiet      ––      even  bryn  has  noticed,  their  normal  chatter  after  dinner  pittering  off  as  they  quietly  headed  toward  their  room  for  some  late  night  drawing  before  erwin  had  scooped  them  off  to  the  land  of  dreams.  

there's  a  throb  in  his  temple,  the  sign  of  a  headache  coming  on;      there's  no  longer  a  bond  that  produces  it,  but  he  thinks  there's  a  phantom  of  it,  one  that  still  punishes  him  for  even  breathing  half  the  time.          tongue  presses  up  against  the  roof  of  his  mouth      ––      he  feels  sticky    &    hazy  in  the  way  that  he  does  when  it's  syrupy,  floating  through  his  veins    &    his  mind,  a  whisper  of  who  he  is    &    what  he  was.

erwin's  voice  pulls  him  out  of  it,  floods  him  a  little  closer  to  the  surface.        his  body  tenses;    he  loses  that  soldier  ability  of  listening  too  keenly  for  intrusions.        the  words  though  make  something  in  his  chest  squeeze  tight    &    he  lets  out  a  shaky  breath.

terms    &    conditions  were  the  last  things  that  they  had  had.      he  remembers  wooden  room    &    stolen  kiss,  demands  of  love  me.        he  remembers  bonfire    &    rooftop,  climbing  into  a  lap    &    putting  erwin  off  balance,  laughing  into  his  mouth.        he  remembers  the  taste  of  horrid  kitchen  wine  that  he  had  snagged    &    the  fact  that  he  had  felt  erwin's  death  already    &    known  that  he  was  holding  on  to  a  ghost.        he  remembers  kissing  erwin  for  their  third,  cold    &    gone  already.          he  remembers  too  much.        it  makes  that  hitch  in  his  throat  settle  up  again,  the  anxiety  attacking  waiting  to  happen,  waiting  for  him  to  run.

the  erwin  of  now  is  unabashed  when  he  looks  at  him;    there's  an  open  fondness,  no  restrictions  holding  him  back.      it's  quiet,  the  way  that  that  he  moves      ––      the  way  a  parent  learns  to  do  that  they  don't  wake  a  child.        he  is  at  levi's  side  moments,  fingers  sliding  through  brunette  hair,  tugging  at  it  in  order  to  make  levi  look  at  him  instead  of  avoiding.

erwin  is  no  longer  his  commander,  but  his  body  follows  the  command  nonetheless.        it  is  used  to  being  guided  by  these  hands.

levi's  jaw  sets  as  he  stares  up  at  him    ––    oceans  that  are  lapping  against  the  shore,  that  didn't  see  the  expansive  world  before.      but  sometimes  he  looks  at  levi    &    levi  feels  it  in  his  chest,  in  his  very  being.        these  are  looks  that  erwin  had  reserved  for  wooden  rooms  when  he  thought  that  levi  wasn't  looking.        these  are  looks  that  erwin  holds  forward  now  because  he  can,  because  he  is  not  obligated  to  holding  back.      he  is  not  obligated  to  isolation    &    self  punishment.  

"  you  should  hate  me,  "      are  the  words  that  he  chooses,  voice  cracking  quietly.     

[letterstotheflre]

that’s the thing about illicit affairs

summary: james was never hers to lose.

warnings: CHEATING, age gap (not specified but reader is in her 20s), tiiiny angst?? i don’t think it’s sad lmao, allusions to sex and one miniature sex scene, some food mentions, and a very badly written argument.

word count: 3k (why are they always so long ffs)

a/n: my first james potter fic <3 i love this man so much, sorry for making you the bad guy here. this one’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks, and since i’ve been feeling kinda sad i finally got around to edit it. also hedric rights!!

They always meet like this.

The room is dark except for a small sea salt lamp she bought on sale from Target. Her clothes are piling up on the floor, discarded carelessly by her lover, and his are not too far from meeting the same fate.

He is kissing her hungrily as he could never get enough of her. His hands travel all over her back while she unbuttons his shirt, their lips never parting. He moves her to her bed, the sheets a pale green that reminds him of—

No. He closes his eyes tightly, pretends the green is actually blue like the lacy bralette that covers her breasts and moves his lips down to her jaw. He sucks and nips and bites, letting her moans echo freely between the four walls that make their little sanctuary.

Her hands quickly undo his belt and stroke him lightly through the fabric of his boxers. He groans against the junction of her neck, the skin softer than anything he’s touched in years.

He pushes her down on the bed, cupping her face while he looks at her properly, noting the tangled hair caused by his fingers. Her lips are puffy and shiny, his kisses being the perpetrator of their current state. He waits for her to say something, to give him a sign that this is okay.

(It’s not okay, and they both know it. It’ll never be okay.)

She nods her head, and he kneels in front of her, pushing her legs wide open before he dives in.

—

She is laying on her bed, the sheets covering her body as she watches him try to fix up his hair in front of the mirror on her makeshift vanity.

“Make sure no one sees you leave,” she says, “and put—”

“Put my hood up, I know,” he finishes the sentence for her. It’s not the first time they do this dance.

“Sirius and Remus are with Harry at home. I told them I was going for a run, so they won’t say anything if I show up all sweaty,” he adds, trying to fill the awkward silence.

She just nods her head, fingers playing with a loose thread on the edge of the sheet, pulling it a bit more every time she twists her index finger. He steps forward, then sits on her bed and traces her cheekbone with his knuckles. “You know I care about you, right?” he asks.

Her heart clenches, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest that makes it hard to breathe for a second. She lowers her eyes, refusing to stare at those hazel irises that started everything. “I know, James,” she assures quietly, looking at a picture of her and Harry that’s stuck to the wall just behind him.

James brushes back some stray hairs that are still stuck to her forehead, then presses a small kiss on the slightly sweaty skin. He gives her a tentative smile before heading to the door, and she only looks in his direction when she hears the click of the door.

(He might care, but not enough.)

—

Sundays are always a slightly awkward affair at first.

Both of their families have been friends for years, getting together every Sunday for lunch at the Potter’s. James and Sirius always man the grill with her dad, all of them wearing those corny ‘kiss the chef!’ aprons. Her mother helps Lily make the salads in the kitchen while they gossip with Remus, who steals a few tomatoes when they aren’t looking. Now that it’s summer, she and Harry splash each other in the pool instead of catching up in his room.

It’s always strange seeing James in the light of day, pretending that this is the only version of him she knows: the version of him that is a friend, a father, a husband.

But she knows the other version of him: the one that has her on her knees begging for a taste of him, the one that grips her hair while he pounds into her from behind, the one that lets his tongue explore places of her no one else has. The version of him that kisses her forehead and plays with her fingers while their bodies are tangled together under the sheets. The version of him that kisses her as if she were the only one made for him.

(She isn’t.)

They are sitting around the table eating. Sirius is laughing about something with his arm around Remus’s shoulders, his bark of laughter echoing across the garden. Her mother’s shoulders shake as Lily rolls her eyes in amusement. James and her father have gone back to the grill to bring everyone their second round of burgers, and she can hear her father complaining about something from work.

“Here y’go, kid,” says James as he places the plate in front of her before ruffling her hair. She tenses up for a second before relaxing, muttering a small “thank you” before reaching for the ketchup.

She hates that nickname. It’s so impersonal, keeps a distance between them that truly doesn’t exist. As if he isn’t the only person that can make her vision whiten and the colours of her room hazy while she clutches his shoulders. As if he isn’t the only person who can pull so many different sounds from her vocal cords, sounds he knows no one else has ever heard before because he is the only one who can create them.

She can feel Sirius’s eyes on her as she stretches one arm, so she hesitantly glances at him. He raises an eyebrow, eyes switching back and forth between James and her, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind.

She gulps anxiously, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and goes back to eating.

—

James’s moans are loud as he gathers her hair in a makeshift ponytail. His cock is buried in her throat, and he watches as she gags for a second before relaxing her throat.

She’s taking him so deep that her nose nuzzles his pubic hair, the musky scent of James filling her nose as she breathes deeply through it. She starts moving her head up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip every time she rises.

He is a mess above her, needy whines and wanton moans leaving his mouth. His hips thrust up softly, slowly fucking her mouth, and he relishes in the small choking sounds she makes. His head rolls back as he groans, “That’s it, baby, so good to me.”

She winces at the name and pulls away from him. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters, but her hands never stop stroking him. She takes him back into her mouth and starts sucking with a newfound fervour, his voice echoing inside her head as she tries to make him forget about her.

(She tries to forget too.)

—

Honey rays filter through her window.

They are both laying on her bed, James on his stomach while she refills the glasses with some cheap wine she got from the store. He looks at the tiny purple splotches on her neck and the red fingerprints on her hips, then smirks proudly. When she turns, she smiles at him softly.

There’s a summer breeze that ruffles her curtains, and he can hear some teenagers laughing as they walk down the street over the music that plays from her speaker.

She places her glass on her nightstand, her nipples brushing his naked back as she leans over him. She lays down on her side, her fingertips softly drawing shapes on his skin. It takes him a moment to realize they are not random shapes but letters.

Her name, written over his scattered freckles and connecting his moles with cursive loops.

He takes her hand and kisses it, slightly chapped lips pressing against her open palm. Then he kisses her lips, still bitterly sweet with grapes, as his tongue moves languidly against hers while he pulls her by the hand on top of him.

It feels like a distant memory. It feels like a dream.

—

The cacophony of different voices singing “Happy Birthday” rings in her ears.

Harry is at the front of the table, an adorable blush dusting his cheeks at the attention. On either side of him are James and Lily, smiles wide as they watch their son blow the candles. Cedric is behind him, hands on his shoulders, and he leans forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

She sings and claps, whooping with Sirius when Harry blows the last candle. She eats cake and drinks the pretty cocktails Lily ordered. She smiles and laughs, pretends she couldn’t see the way the candles made the golden band on James’s ring finger beam like the sun.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way James holds Lily’s waist before kissing her. She pretends she can’t see them dancing slowly to a song Remus put on the Spotify playlist as a joke.

She pretends she can’t hear his footsteps following her when she goes to the bathroom. She feigns disinterest when he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards a deserted corridor.

But she can’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach when he kisses her, the thrumming in her veins when he pushes one leg between her thighs, nor the pleasure-filled gasps and moans that leave her mouth when he helps her roll her hips along his covered thigh.

It’s thrilling; they’ve never done something like this in public, much less in such proximity to friends and family.

(In such proximity to her.)

Even though she knows it shouldn’t, it gives her a sense of victory. Because he is here with her now: he is kissing her, making her moan, and whispering dirty things in her ear.

A faraway call of his name breaks the spell they’re under. They pull away hastily; she fixes her dress while James makes sure there are no lipstick stains on his face. The footsteps are getting closer, heels hitting the floorboards at the same rhythm as their rapid beating hearts.

It’s Sirius.

James almost breathes a sigh of relief, but she remains tensed up. Sirius looks between them, the same look he had that Sunday all those weeks ago on his face, and she feels bile rising in her throat.

“Lily’s looking for you,” he says, his thumb pointing back over his shoulder towards the reception where everyone’s gathered.

“Right,” says James. “Better go see what she needs. You do not want to see an angry drunk Lily.” He laughs, almost oblivious to the awkward tension between his two friends. He goes back to Lily, leaving her leaning against the wall and Sirius standing in the middle of the hallway.

Sirius looks at her, and even though his mind already knows, he refuses to believe it. “I didn’t know where the bathroom was,” she offers as an explanation. It’s a flimsy excuse, she knows that, but it’s the best she can do under this kind of pressure.

“Right,” he whispers with a short nod, then follows James.

She stays rooted to her spot, lips tingling with the ghost of James touch and a guilty mind.

—

Hours later, she clings to a pillow as she lays on her bed alone. The same pillow James was resting on less than twelve hours ago.

She breathes in deeply, trying to catch any scent of him she can, but there’s only the scent of her fabric softener.

There’s no James. No citrus shampoo or woodsy cologne nor salty air from the beach near his house. Because he never wears any cologne when he comes to her, ensuring that there’s no trace of him once he leaves.

Like he doesn’t even exist.

—

It ends in a parking lot a month later.

She was waiting for Luna to arrive at the mall but ended up asking for a rain check when James texted her, saying they needed to talk.

‘Meet me behind the mall’, she texts him.

She walks to the back of the building and waits for his red car to show up. She already knows where this conversation is going to go, and her heart shatters at the thought of saying goodbye to him.

She raises her head when she hears a honk in front of her, and she gets in while whispering a small “hey”. He doesn’t start the car again, just settles for turning the ignition key off. She looks at the families leaving the mall through the tinted window, refusing to look at him, as her knee bounces up and down anxiously.

The silence is heavy, and she suddenly feels cold in the August heat.

James takes a deep breath, “We can’t keep doing this.”

She can’t help the snarky comment. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday while you had your fingers buried inside me.” He looks at her unimpressed, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s wrong,” he says— as if she doesn’t already know that. “C’mon, baby, don’t make this harder than it has to—”

“I told you not to call me that!” she raises her voice, and the car gets silent again. She hates the tears that gather in her eyes, hates that she cares so much about him and their stupid game, but she couldn’t help it. Not when he whispered so many sweet nothings in her ears and caressed her skin so softly, almost afraid to break him if he was too rough.

(Not that he cared about that when he stretched her wide open and thrust so hard into her that the bed frame banged against the wall.)

“You can’t just show up here and tell me it’s over like you weren’t the one that came to me first,” she jeers, and she can see the tick of his jaw as he clenches it. Good, she thinks, make him angry.

“Don’t just blame me. You didn’t say ‘no’ once.” He grounds out, “In fact, I can recall you were begging me to fuck you against the wall.”

Her cheeks turn into a small fire, a slight feeling of shame overcoming her. “Oh, like you were any better!” she exclaims. “‘Been thinking about you for months.’ ‘You have no idea the things you do to me.’ ‘No one can suck my cock like you.’ ‘I care about you!’” She deepens her voice to mock him.

James opens his mouth to keep the ball rolling, and she wants him to do it because it meant that the fight was still on, that they wouldn’t have to end this. Instead, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m telling you now it’s over. Stop acting like a kid who didn’t get her Christmas present,” he says, knowing exactly what he is doing with those words.

“I’m not a kid,” she snaps, her eyes fighting back angry teats at his dismissal. “Then stop acting like one,” he shrugs.

Her hands turn into fists, nails digging themselves into her palms as she tries to keep her anger at bay. “Do you know how much of myself I gave to you? How many plans with my friends have I cancelled in case you called? How many guys I stopped seeing because they weren’t you?” she rants, her voice increasing in volume as she lets her frustration take over. Then, she pauses. “You’ve ruined me, James.”

Her voice is so pained that it makes his heart clench, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at her. He knows, God, he knows what he’s done, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so lonely with Lily spending so much time at the hospital, and then there she was with her caring and understanding nature. With her adorable laughs and those touches that were so addictive, a mercurial high that gave him the lowest lows whenever he tried to stop.

He keeps his mouth shut; there’s nothing left to say anyway, and it’s better for her to hate him rather than anything else. “You are not going to say anything?” It’s meek, vulnerable, and she wants to slap herself for acting this way. She knew it would never last, that he would always choose her.

He was never hers to lose, so why is she still fighting?

She nods her head in surrender, biting her lip to stop herself from sobbing. The anger now gave way to sadness, “I can’t believe I let you make a fool of me.” Her voice is hoarse, a result of the lump in her throat that prevents her from swallowing comfortably.

She gets out of the car and slams the door shut, then leaves the parking lot, leaving him behind. She keeps walking, fingers gripping the straps of her bag until she reaches an empty street.

The golden sun is ready to dip on the horizon, and she can hear James’s car speeding behind her.

—

She doesn’t let the tears fall until she’s inside her apartment.

The moment she closed the door, she crumbled to her knees, loud sobs falling from her mouth and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It takes her a moment to gather enough strength to walk to her room.

She cries and cries, buries her face in her pillows and starts sobbing even harder because she can smell him. The salty scent and citrus shampoo finally embedded themselves in the fabric, and she can’t believe that after all those days she craved to feel him close to her, he chooses now to leave a trace behind.

She cries for hours until her eyes are puffy and red, and snot comes out of her nose. Her chest heaves with short breaths that don’t really fill her lungs as she clings to that damn pillow before throwing it across the room. She can’t believe it ended like this: with her completely broken for anyone else while James gets to go back to his life and act like nothing ever happened.

Yet she knows that if she had to choose, she would do it all over again because if she had to choose someone to be her ruination, she would choose James Potter a million times.

TAGLIST: @emmaev @gxtitobxby @ildm4ev @capsmischief @arisblackhole @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @tonystarksmutgarden @blowing-mikey @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @glossiable @remusjlupinisdead @amixedwitch @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour — if you want to be added tap here

[pippytmi]

1, 4, 14?

The one hope Kara has for her roommate is that Lena Luthor will not be a smoker.

Alex had told her not to have high expectations; after all, this roommate arrangement was all organized through Winn, and Alex has always stated that she doesn’t trust this man’s self-preservation tactics. (“Once, during an earthquake drill, he started to climb up the building. Kara, what kind of a moron does that?”)

But Kara isn’t as cynical as her sister…or quite as mean. So she trusts that Winn’s people skills are better than his survival skills, and resolves not to write off Lena by virtue of association alone. It’s expensive enough to live in National City; when Winn had promised a roommate that “probably won’t be tempted to murder anyone anytime soon,” that had honestly been a good enough draw. (That had, of course, been sandwiched in a perfectly normal explanation about Lena being the best student in their shared pre-med classes—Winn maintains that anyone pursuing med school that rigorously will be too tired to consider recreational murder on the side.)

So Kara takes her tentatively-moderate-expectations—along with a box of donuts as a gift—and makes her way to apartment 9b. This is technically her first time ever being a real roommate; her only other experience was sharing a wall with Alex during their teenage years, and occasionally during their college years when they weren’t driving each other crazy. So maybe, because she’s never had to deal with boundaries or tact with her sister, she kind of…abandons all formalities and just uses her brand new key to open the front door.

(In hindsight, she really should have knocked first.)

“Golly!” Almost immediately, Kara is jumping right back out into the hallway, and the box of donuts is falling to a tragic death on the carpet. Oh no. Oh gosh. This is more embarrassing than trying to climb up the library during an earthquake drill—

She is still sitting on the floor, dumbstruck, with maple glaze smearing on her jeans when the door opens again. Lena Luthor pokes her head out, and she is simultaneously everything Kara expected and everything she didn’t. Per Winn’s description, Lena is indeed “classically beautiful,” and she has one of those faces: slightly closed off, hesitant to emote much. And when she has clothes on, she truly does have the fashion sense of an aspiring college professor, albeit with a touch more lipstick than Kara would expect.

“Okay, maybe I’m crazy,” Lena says slowly, “but did I hear you say that out loud?”

Kara immediately lifts her head up to squint at the direction of the strange voice. Lena has very pretty green eyes, but they are exceptionally confused at the moment. “What?” she says, echoing that same perplexment in her own voice.

“I could’ve sworn you said ‘golly,’ like some kind of peasant in a Christmas Carol or something,” Lena says, as if that’s a totally normal route of conversation to take after being caught naked. She leans halfway out the door, looking down at Kara with that attractive, baffled expression on her face, and all Kara has taken from this encounter so far is that her new roommate is hot.

“I...did say that,” Kara says after a beat. “But in my defense, I was completely surprised.” As one might be walking in on anybody naked, she thinks, but doesn’t actually say out loud.

“Right.” And then Lena frowns, slightly, in a manner that makes her lipsticked mouth twist down a corner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by today. I could have sworn your text mentioned your move in day being the third.”

Kara stretches her leg out and pretends the sole of her shoe isn’t caked in chocolate icing. “Today is the third,” she points out, and then hastily adds, “And um—I’m sorry. I should have knocked. I just didn’t know you were…”

“Showering,” Lena finishes, at the same time Kara says,

“...a nudist.”

Lena stares. And then she blinks, and then she stares some more. “What?” This time, that careful kind of confusion entirely drops, and now she’s looking at Kara like she has grown two heads. “How do you automatically jump to that?”

“Because you’re naked in the middle of the day?!” It’s pretty self-explanatory in her opinion, but Kara still gets up off the floor in order to better face her new roommate (and because it feels strangely like she is the one being judged right now). “Everyone knows that showering is a night or a morning time thing—walking around naked any other time is weird.”

“Wow,” Lena says, and she actually crosses her arms, further cementing the whole Kara-is-the-one-being-judged thing. “I can’t believe you think nudists are weird. That’s pretty ironic coming from Tiny Tim.”

“Hey, I never said I thought nudists were weird. Just, their hobbies are. Is being naked a hobby?” Kara considers delving into that discussion, but Lena is squinting at her (and Lena has a very piercing squint), so she drops the subject. “Anyway, it’s fine if you’re a nudist. I can just…start wearing sunglasses inside, or something.”

“Because my naked body is that blinding?” Lena scowls. “I don’t go out in the sun much, alright, so sue me for being pale—”

“That’s not what I meant!” Kara blurts, helpless, and she knows in that instant she’s gone entirely red in the face. “I, uh. I didn’t mean to sound judge-y. Really, I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Unless…can I ask if you smoke?”

And it is with that sheepish question that Lena’s affrontive attitude slowly begins to fade. “No,” she says, in a manner that is faintly amused. “But I’m glad that’s your priority. Seriously? Are you really just going to say you’d be fine if I spent every single waking moment in our apartment naked?”

Kara shrugs, still flushed up to the tips of her ears, and makes a valiant effort not to think about that when Lena almost-smiles she can see the indent of a possible dimple on her cheek. “Well, if that’s what you want,” Kara says. “I won’t…stare or anything, I promise.”

“That’s comforting, but I’m not a nudist.” Lena smiles, and yep—dimple—Kara is pretty much done for.

“Okay.”

“No, I mean it.” And then that smile drops as Lena suddenly reconsiders something. “Also, why do you assume it’s weird to be naked in the afternoon?”

Kara gestures vaguely with her hands to where her watch would be. “Because,” she says, “it’s weird to shower in the afternoon.”

“But what if I had been naked for another reason besides showering?” Lena apparently has the ability to raise her whole eyebrow, and it’s unfair how mesmerizing that is.

“Like…non-nudist reasons?” Kara asks, and Lena’s smile comes back in a mischievous form.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Uh,” Kara says ineloquently, and suddenly her mind is coming up with far too many scenarios that she really shouldn’t. “That would be fine. Too. I mean, I can wear earplugs with the sunglasses. Or I can just wait out here too, until you’re…done. The carpet here is pretty comfortable. Is it the same in the apartment? ‘Cause if so, I mean, the landlord really outdid himself. I’ve had carpets that aren’t half as fluffy in hotel rooms that charged way more than—”

Lena cracks the door wider, and then her gaze drifts over towards where Kara’s housewarming donut gift has landed. “Have I broken you?” she asks. “Or are you always this awkward around naked women?”

“I’m—what?” Kara sputters. “I’m completely normal around naked women. Sometimes I am also a naked women.”

“Right,” Lena says, “when you shower in the morning. Or night.”

Kara frowns. “Yes,” she says, “and that's completely normal. And not weird.”

“Noted.” Lena pulls open the door the rest of the way, then throws a dangerous sort of smirk over her shoulder. “You are Kara Danvers, right? I’d hate to have to re-do the apartment tour, so if you’ve just come to break in, I have to warn you: I’m saving for med school, so I pretty much own nothing of value.”

“Yeah, no, I’m...Kara,” Kara says, slightly bewildered, but she gathers her bag and her donut box trash and follows Lena inside; she’ll have to deal with the mess outside later. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I just forgot, with the whole…”

“It’s alright.” Lena scrunches her nose up apologetically, suddenly quite sheepish; if Kara had to pick a word, she’d call the tic adorable. “I didn’t exactly introduce myself either. Well, at least in the traditional sense.” She leads Kara into the kitchen, where there is a bottle of wine sitting on the table. “Can I make it up to you with a drink?”

And Kara doesn’t know how, exactly, she’s going to live like this—going to live with the knowledge that her new roommate apparently showers in the afternoon, and drinks a whole bottle of wine alone, and makes sexual references to people she’s known for all of twenty minutes. In other words:

“Yeah,” Kara says, nudging her glasses up her nose and delighting in the curve of Lena’s ensuing smile. “I could go for a drink.”

[sofijaeger]

Okay bestie, I saw your event and my brain turned to domestic life with Levi. Since there's a pandemic going on right now, I imagine staying indoors to be the most ideal situation?? So, how about an indoor date with hubby Levi? Holding hands and going grocery shopping together to get all the necessary ingredients we need to cook/both of us having our aprons on and letting each other taste test what we're stirring in the pot/just having a quiet but relaxing night at home 😌 I don't know why, but I live for domestic life with Levi huhuhu

JULS ITS YOUR TURN BAE 😆 this idea is so so cute, and i’ve got lotsss and lots of ideas to add!

warnings: none

- levi isn’t so much of an outdoorsy person unless nature is involved of some kind, only then does he find it peaceful.

- so when he’s told he’s required to stay indoors by law he is not opposing 😭

- and food shopping with him is just ADORABLE. He feels most comfortable when his hand is piled on top of your own and between the shopping cart as you browse through each isle.

- he’s got a specific pattern to find everything. Dairy products? Front of the store to the left for the quickest route. Cake mix and frozen items? follow the last isle on the right all the way to the back to find what you’re looking for.

- his grocery list and its order only disorganize when he can’t reach the mixes on the top shelf, either you reach up and get it for him or call an employee because he is not going to stand their on his tip toes reaching for it like a child.

- despite him enjoying more peaceful rides home, levi is honestly fine with any genre of music too! keep it soft or on the down low and you might just hear his own precious little hums.

- something about levi being the bigger person in the relationship despite… physical difficulties makes him feel the most happy. he would never touch you inappropriately, such as holding your thigh he claims, but you better not move your hand thats assisted by his on the gear shifter.

- YOU GUYS HAVE MATCHING APRONS OH MY GOD- something totally cute like “property of the chef’s” or “don’t touch my food/ i’m the food;))”

- you go through half the utensil drawer because he refuses to use the same spoon that touched your mouth to mix the pot again, but he’s generous enough to let you try as much as you’d like.

- and with the help of your cooking expertise you make a fabulous dinner for yourselves! you bet he’s gonna trace his fingers over your hips, covering your face in little kisses and swearing that he’d be “so mad” if you messed the dish up.

- he’ll be the kindest gentleman under your eyes only, carrying your plates over to the couch or table and helping you get all comfy as you enjoy your meals.

- that look on your face, that gleaming smile of satisfaction convinces him that this night couldn’t have ended any better.

I HOPE OT WAS ALRIGHT BAE🥺

[bestiesenpai]

youtuber Sukuna pt2

I wonder what things will happen in this part? I hope there's sparknotes, I don’t feel like reading all these words…

Content warning: *more* mean internet comments, Sukuna doxxing ppl(idk if that needs a warning?? But just in case)

part 1 --- part 3

Being a Youtuber was a lot more work than Sukuna thought it was. When he’d picked you up early in the morning, he wasn’t expecting you to come out with such a fancy camera and microphone. You looked cute as all hell too, hair styled nicely and your outfit was perfect for a day at a countryside cafe.

“Thanks for driving!” You said, climbing into his car and smiling at him. Sukuna could smell your perfume  as it wafted off your body and he immediately felt the urge to buy a bottle as well and spray his pillow with it.

“S’no problem.” He muttered, driving off as soon as you were secure. He’d looked up the place beforehand, reading their menu over and over so he’d know what to order. Slowing down at a red light, he glanced over at you taking pictures.

He wished he could ask you to send them to him so he could save them in the never ending folder he had, but he couldn’t. It would be weird, you weren’t exactly close, and it’s not like you shared any pictures anyway.

“Hey Sukuna, what’s my contact photo on your phone?” The question came out of nowhere and he looked at you in confusion.

“Contact photo? You don’t have one.”

“What, really? I’ll send you a picture then! And add a few cute emojis with my name.” Well, that was easy. He wasn’t expecting you to offer to send him a picture, but he wasn’t going to decline it.

“Okay, I will.” Turning his attention back on the road, Sukuna turned the radio on to fill the silence. “Should I...send you a picture of me?” He had the perfect picture in mind to send you, it was a thirst trap he’d snapped post-shower after a really good day at the gym. A towel hung low on his hips and he still had a few droplets of water on his skin and dripping down from his hair.

“Yes!”

The drive to the cafe was quick and easy, not a lot of traffic early in the morning. The sun was just beginning to settle in the sky and the dew on the grass was fading. The cafe you’d chosen was in a small countryside town, barley fields just a few yards away and farmers with their dogs walking by.

“This the place?” Sukuna asked, pulling into the small parking lot in confusion.

“Yup! I’m so excited!” Hopping out of the car, your camera was immediately put to work filming the surrounding area. It was peacefully silent all around you, the only sound the occasional breeze or dog barking in the distance.

Panning the camera to yourself, you took a quick couple breaths and babbled a few times before speaking properly.

“Hi everyone, as you can see we’re in a different place today! Me and Sukuna are at a cafe in the countryside that I saw online and fell in love with. Say hi Sukuna!”

“Hi.” He was standing at the edge of the lot where a field of wispy tall purple grass started. He waved dumbly, feeling like a dumb kid taken to Disneyworld.

“This is the name of the cafe…” Turning your attention elsewhere, you filmed the rest of your intro. Once again, Sukuna was amazed at the proficiency at which you did things and how smoothly he knew the shots would look.

Looking at the cafe on the outside, it didn’t look like anything special. It was a wooden and concrete building with two large windows. He could see the minimalist decor and furniture inside was wooden as well, probably handcrafted by someone in the town.

“All finished, let’s go in.” Waving him on, Sukuna jogged to be the first to the door to open it for you. Filming as you walked in, when Sukuna entered, he still didn’t understand the hype you’d placed around it.

The air smelt like a strong tea and the humidity was definitely higher. He was right in thinking that all the furniture was handcrafted, all the chairs and tables had a rough quality to them only achievable with a human touch.

“Look, this is what I came here for!” You were standing right at the dessert case, pointing your camera at whatever you were looking at.

“Why is it...?” Sukuna looked at it in confusion. There was an airbrushed cake shaped exactly like the peach emoji sitting in the case with a realistic leaf and stem as well and you looked inexplicably happy over it.

“The owner makes these cakes herself, and she’s doing a cute emoji series!” Bouncing on your heels, you tugged on his sleeve. “I’m totally getting a slice, what’re you getting?” Suddenly, the research he’d done the night prior meant nothing as he looked at the cake.

“I have no idea.”

“You’ve got time to think about it, I’m gonna ask the owner a few questions for the video.” Leaving him at the case, Sukuna saw you go up to the owner waiting at the counter from the corner of his eye. Since the two of you were the only ones here, he could hear your excited voice gushing about the cakes and decor.

Fifteen minutes later, you and Sukuna were seated right in the corner of the cafe, where the two windows intersected on the building. Not one for sweets, Sukuna got a plain poppyseed muffin and a hot tea; the cafe didn’t serve coffee.

Setting up the camera on the table next to you, you took a bite of your cake and loved it, immediately singing its praises to the camera. Sukuna ate as well, trying not to be too stiff as you spoke.

“Sukuna, you should try this too!” Holding up your fork filled with cake, you held it out to him.

“Hm, okay.” Grabbing your hand as well, he expected you to let go of the fork. But as he guided it to his mouth, you didn’t, and you were staring right at him as it went into his mouth. “Why ya staring?” He mumbled, feeling his ears burn.

“I need to know if you like it.” Sukuna didn’t let go of your hand as he chewed and you didn’t make a move to remove it either. You were too focused on his reaction to care, waiting on the edge of your seat for him to say something.

“It’s a peach flavored cake.” He nodded, snorting when you motioned him to say more. “It’s too sweet for me, but if you like it then I like it.”

“Good enough for me!” Finally you pulled away from him and put the fork down, turning to the camera and pointing in his direction. “Can you believe Sukuna doesn’t like sweets? He’s like an old man, he only got a muffin.”

“Please, could an old man deadlift almost 300lbs?” Sukuna scoffed, slapping his chest and flexing his arm.

“That’s so much! You have to train me some day Sukuna, I wanna lift that much!” Your shocked face made Sukuna smirk and he flexed the other arm as well. Your wide eyes got even wider, bouncing between both his arms.

“Anytime, (Y/N).” Sukuna felt confident enough to wink at you, and he saw the way your face faltered at it. Ducking your head away, you pretended to fiddle with the camera, the tips of your fingers shaking slightly.

It was afternoon by the time you finished in the cafe, walking out into the warmth of the sun. Looking out, all the land surrounding the cafe was flat, covered in fields of barley or tall grasses.

“Hey Sukuna…” There you were, touching the purple grass with your fingers.

“What?”

“Will you take a few pictures for me? For Instagram?”

“I don’t think I’ll be any good.” Sukuna barely knew how to take pictures of himself let alone another person.

“That’s okay, just try your best!” Putting another camera in his hand, you grabbed his wrist and tugged him to join you deeper in the field. “That camera is pretty simple, just point and click.”

“Alright.” Holding it up, he immediately snapped a picture of you.

“Wait for me to pose!” You laughed. Sukuna chuckled as well, and when you were ready, he took the pictures. He took as many as he could, clicking the button over and over.

“Take a look.” Twenty minutes later he was handing the camera back at you. Looking through the pictures, you instantly burst into laughter.

“Sukuna, why’d you take a picture of the sun? My head is in the corner, it looks like a toe!”

“I told you it’d be bad!” He couldn’t help but laugh as well. You really did look like a toe in the corner of the screen.

“Oh my god, I’m taking you to a photography class, some of these are too much.” Giggling your way through the rest of the pictures, you put the camera back in his hand. “Let’s take a couple together!”

Sukunas heart leapt for joy. He would be able to take a picture with you. It felt like he was a fan of yours and not someone you knew on a personal level.

“You’re gonna hold the camera, your arms are longer.” Flipping the viewfinder up, you slided up to Sukunas side. He muttered something unintelligible, too busy looking at the two of you together. He could almost imagine you were a couple.

“Sukuna, hold the camera like this.” His hand had gone limp, casting a bad angle on the two of you.

“Don’t face that way, the light will make you look bad.” In one of the pictures, you’d changed poses.

“I know you only take serious gym pictures but smile for this one!” His face had dropped down to a scowl, his normal resting face. After who knows how long, he was finally free from taking pictures.

Wandering back to the car, it was silent as the both of you settled in. You were busy looking over the photos and Sukuna was busy watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Anything else you wanna do here?” He asked after a while of pretending to look on Twitter.

“Mmmm, we can drive around some more! I don’t really know what else is out here.”

Sukuna drove you through the countryside town, marvelling at the farmers and all their animals. You stopped to get a couple handmade candies from an old man, and Sukuna made sure to pick up some food that wasn’t just sweets for you. Eating at a small restaurant, when you hit the road again it was nearly evening.

Driving back in near silence, somewhere along the way you fell asleep. Your head rested against the window, jostled a few times by the road or a turn. Sukuna couldn’t help but look at you any chance he could, and although he felt like a major creep, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a picture of you.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.” Sukuna groaned as he got closer to the city, coming upon a wall of traffic. Far ahead up the road there was an accident that wasn’t going to be cleared away anytime soon.

“What’s up?” You asked with a loud yawn, stretching out your arms and legs as best you could.

“Traffic.” Leaning his head out the window, he let out another groan. “Might as well put the fucking car in park.” Shifting the gear and sinking low into his seat, Sukuna sighed. It’s not that he hated traffic, but he wanted every moment of this outing to be perfect, and this was seriously hindering it.

“Do you want me to send you some of the pictures we took together for your Instagram as well?”

“Yeah, send ‘em over.” At least Sukuna could stare at the two of you together to pass the time. The amount of pictures you sent him was seemingly endless and included a few he didn’t know you’d taken of him eating and looking out the window.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” You whined, kicking your feet out in boredom.

“At least an hour.”

It was quiet for a few minutes, the sound of the radio and other cars around you filling the background. Sukuna could see you fiddling with your phone, opening and closing apps. He could see you getting antsy.

“I’m already so bored.” There it was. Your pitiful whine accentuated with your head pushed back. Sukunas fingers itched to reach out and squeeze your cheek, it was glowing from the sun. “I think I’m gonna get on Instagram live or something so I can complain more.”

Laughing at your honesty, as soon as you went live Sukuna got the notification on his phone. Your head was tilted away from him, only your side of the car showed. Waving at the camera a few times, you smiled really big.

“Hi everyone! I’m stuck in traffic!” Your eyes flicked across the screen, reading the many comments coming in. “Hm, what do you mean who’s car am I in? I bought this car!”

“Liar.” Sukuna mumbled with a cheeky grin getting bigger when you tried to hide your own chuckle.

“I swear I bought this car!” You couldn’t keep the lie going, and broke down in giggles the more Sukuna looked at you. “Alright, I’m in Sukunas car.” Panning the phone out, he saw himself on screen.

“Hi.” He waved, reading the comments asking if you were on a date. “Don’t you remember from the last live? We aren’t on a date we’re filming some fucking vlog.”

“It’ll be up soon! You’ll all really enjoy it, Sukuna was a great guest.”

“The best.” He nodded along. You responded to a few more comments, but there were some that kept coming up.

‘(Y/N) kiss Sukuna’

‘(Y/N) kiss Sukuna’

‘(Y/N) kiss Sukuna’

“Stop spamming that fucking message like a weirdo.” Sukuna finally snapped. You had done a great job at ignoring the comment, but it was all Sukuna could see on the screen. “You’re gross to ask us to do that.” But Sukuna did wish he could kiss you. Ever since the first comment came through, he’d taken glances at your lips as you spoke.

“Oof, don’t make Sukuna mad, he’ll kill you.” You teased, and your hand went out to squeeze his arm. “He said he can deadlift almost 300lbs, so watch out.”

“That’s fucking right.” Flexing his arm proudly, Sukuna nearly put it around your shoulder, faltering at the last minute and landing on the center console with a thud.

‘It would be kind of cute to see them kiss…’

‘I bet Sukuna can’t even hug (Y/N)’

‘I bet after today they’ll come out and say they’re dating!’

Now all the comments were talking about the two of you dating, and how cute it would be if you really were. Biting his lip, Sukuna watched your reaction closely. Truly he had no problem with the comments, he wanted them to be true as well, but if you were uncomfortable he was ready to put everyone in their place.

“Gosh you guys ship us so hard.” You seemed okay with it, your face wasn’t tense and you were still making eye contact with Sukuna. “Are you going to subscribe to my channel if I kiss him?”

“What?” Sukunas eyes widened and the comments poured in promising life long dedication to you if you went through with it.

“Alright.” Setting your phone up on the dashboard, you turned to Sukuna. “I’ll be quick, okay?”

“What?” He parroted. His hands were getting clammy just thinking about it and the look in your eyes wasn’t helping. With a nervous lick of his lips Sukuna leant forward and had just begun to pucker his mouth when you loudly kissed your palm and pressed it to his cheek.

“There! I kissed Sukuna!” With a big grin on your face you kissed your hand again and put it on him. “I did it twice! Now go subscribe!”

“What the hell.” Sukuna mumbled to himself, feeling like an idiot for thinking you’d really kiss him. He spent the next fifteen minutes in a stupor, vaguely replying to comments and trying to get over the embarrassment he felt.

Dropping you off nearly an hour past the original time, when Sukuna got home he buried his face into his pillow and let out a short yell. The biting shame he felt at almost making himself a fool in front of thousands of people was still fresh. He knew there’d be fancams of the moment just waiting for him. A buzzing on his phone pulled him out of his thoughts.

(Y/N): you need to send me a picture for your contact photo!

That’s right, the picture. Sukuna didn’t even need to scroll that far to find it, it was in his favorites. Sending it to you without a second thought, he didn’t even have the mind to check your reaction. Leaving his phone on the bed, he rushed to the shower to cool off.

When he returned, there were a flurry of messages from you waiting to be read. Most of them were unreadable keyboard smashes and a few emojis.

(Y/N): SUKUNA!

(Y/N): you can’t just send me a picture like that!!

(Sukuna): why?

(Y/N): you know why!

He could practically hear your flustered little whine.

(Sukuna): enlighten me please

(Y/N): SWSGMLU

(Y/N): you’re such a bully!!

(Sukuna): haha sounds like someone's embarrassed

It was a long few minutes before you replied and Sukuna could see the typing bubbles appear and reappear several times.

(Y/N): I’M GOING TO BED

(Sukuna): you that tired? it’s only 9pm

(Y/N): YES GOODNIGHT

(Y/N): BYE BULLY

(Sukuna): lol goodnight then

In a week, the vlog was up and Sukuna made his debut into the world. He rewatched it several times over, in awe of how well you’d captured the countryside and translated it to video. He even screen recorded some parts, like when he was flexing for you, just to replay your reaction over and over.

In the weeks following, Sukuna watched your channel grow exponentially. Your number of subscribers wasn’t small, but it was nowhere near his, yet you made the leap to over a million and a half practically overnight. And with that new success, came a lot of pressure.

You’d recently taken up streaming, and Sukuna was at every single one. He had made a Twitch account just to watch you and he subscribed immediately, blushing when you read out his name and personally thanked him in a text a few minutes later.

Entering your stream as soon as it started, Sukuna was ready to sit and watch you do whatever. Usually, you played a game like the Sims, but sometimes you’d cook or put makeup on for a stream.

But this time was different. When your face appeared on the screen, you looked down. Almost as if you’d been fighting back tears. Immediately, Sukuna grabbed his phone, ready to call you and ask what was happening.

“Hey guys.” He could hear it in your voice that you were sad. It warbled and broke, and you sniffled a few times.

‘(Y/N) why’re you crying??’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Did something happen? You can tell us, we’re here for you’

“No, don’t worry everyone it’s just…” A stray tear fell down your cheek and you wiped it away with a shaking hand. “I-I- just-” You quickly broke down crying, turning your chair completely away from the screen.

Sukuna was swiftly dialing your number. He had no idea what was wrong, you hadn’t told him anything was wrong, but he needed to know. He was prepared to go to your house if you needed him to.

“I’m okay, I promise.” Feverishly wiping your tears, you turned back to the camera. Taking several deep breaths, you didn’t look at the camera as you spoke. “I’ve just been getting a lot of hate comments recently and you know I always ignore it but-” Your voice caught, and Sukuna was glued to the screen. “It’s just been a lot honestly.”

‘(Y/N) WE LOVE YOU’

‘PLEASE DON’T CRY WE’RE HERE FOR YOU’

‘I bet it’s all of Sukunas fans, they’re so fucking gross’

‘Totally Sukuna fans, all the real fans love (Y/N) and would never do this’

“N-no, don’t blame Sukuna! He can’t control what people say!” It was totally his fans and he fucking knew it. His call had gone unanswered two times, but on the third time you answered. “Hello?”

“Put me on speaker.”

“But-”

“Put me on speaker!” He demanded. Sukunas blood was boiling, rage rolling over him in waves.

“Sukuna’s calling, I guess he has something to say.” Holding the phone close to the microphone, you kept wiping away tears.

“Listen here you insignificant dirtbags, stop leaving shitty little hate comments on (Y/N)s stuff. You’re all fucking piss poor losers who can’t even wipe your own asses, probably jerking each other off in a pathetic circle. Go get a fucking job, worthless pieces of shit. Don’t think this is something you can get away with either, I’m going to make sure you fucking regret the day you were born.” His voice was dripping with so much malice it scared you. While Sukuna was used to talking like this, you’d never heard it in person and you could tell he meant every word.

“Thanks Sukuna, but you don’t have to-”

“Tell me who they are. Where’d they leave the comments?” Angrily setting up a shitty webcam he had, Sukuna was preparing to do a livestream himself.

“I don’t know…”

“(Y/N).” Taking a pause, he stared at the screen. You were worrying your lip as you stared at your phone while the comments begged for you to tell him.

“Alright. Most of them are under the vlog we did together, and there’s a lot under my most recent Instagram pictures.”

“The ones with us together too?”

“Yeah, those are the worst ones.”

“Keep me on the line.” Sukuna had never been this angry in his life before and it showed in his actions. He was slamming things down in a rush to set up his stream and letting out frustrated noises in the back of his throat.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?” You’d gotten your emotions under control enough to stop crying, your glassy eyes shining in the light of your room.

“I’m setting up my own stream.” Just as he spoke, his face appeared on the screen and he was live. “Tell everyone to send me screenshots of the hate comments, I’m going to teach these assholes a lesson.”

“I think they heard you.” Indeed they had. The phone was still close to the microphone, and now there were comments pouring in telling Sukuna they’d send links through his stream.

Clicking on almost all of the ones that popped up, his screen was bombarded with pictures of people leaving hateful comments on your posts. Many were saying that you didn’t deserve to be alive, to be so close to Sukuna, and many called you ugly or other mean names.

“Let’s see what this fucker looks like.” Going to one of the profiles on Twitter, Sukuna nearly spat on his screen looking at it. “This ugly sack of shit wants to leave some mean comments? Well it’s your lucky day bitch, you’re the first one to go.” It took Sukuna all of five minutes to find the person's Facebook account where they posted more personal information.

“Oh, that’s a pretty high brow uni you’re going to! It would really be a shame if I sent an email to the dean.” Sukuna said mockingly, already typing up a long email. “You’re not gonna be studying to be a doctor any fucking more. Have fun digging ditches bitch.”

Sukuna’s stream easily went from 200 viewers to nearly 40,000 just in the time it took him to dox the first person. The next one was even easier, and it snowballed from there. Sukuna had no qualms about sharing this personal information, from their addresses to their personal phone numbers to where they worked.

“You really don’t have to do all this.” You kept saying over the phone. You’d ended your own stream to calm down, but you didn’t hang up the phone.

“Yes I do.” Sukuna replied instantly. “People have no respect for others, it’s fucking gross. If they think they can get away with this they’re idiots.” So many comments were egging him on as well, with a lot of people promising to harass everyone exposed until they apologized. “I hope every single one of them loses everything.”

“Sukuna…” With a sigh, you sat back and watched him do it. There wasn't anything you could say to stop him, he was on a warpath and intent on causing harm. Eventually, you had to hang up the call as it got well into the night and he was still going.

“Keep sending the fucking links, I can do this all night.” Sukuna repeated several times, fighting off sleep. His eyes burned from staring at the screen for so long and his back had begun to ache but he wasn’t about to stop now. There were still so many people that had to pay.

After nearly eight hours of streaming himself doxing people, he finally stopped after his channel got banned. His manager had emailed as soon as the sun rose, frantically screaming at him to stop what he was doing or he could get sued.

(Sukuna): tell me right away if this happens again I’ll handle it

He texted you right after getting banned. His body hurt from exhaustion, he could truly pass out at any moment.

(Y/N): I will

(Y/N): sukuna...thanks for doing all that. It really meant a lot to know you care about me

(Sukuna): Of course I care about you

Sukuna was about to type out that he liked you, of course he did all of that and risked himself getting sued because he liked you and never wanted to see you cry again. Almost admitting to how he wanted nothing more than to give you a big hug, but stopping himself at the last moment.

(Y/N): you’re such a good friend Sukuna, thank you

(Sukuna): you’re welcome

It hurt to be put into that category, in the friendzone. It made his tongue curl in disgust, a rancid place that he wanted no part of. People that were in the friendzone were spineless and too weak to just confess their feelings - and Sukuna seemed to be one of them.

After that incident, you went on a break from all social media and Sukuna began to patrol your comments sections. He actively posted that he would start doxing people again if they said anything bad, citing all the damage he’d done to the previous victims. Sukuna had gotten what he wanted, all the people he exposed suffered in some way, most losing jobs and friends.

On a run to the grocery store, Sukuna was listening to a podcast you’d been on. He missed the content you posted, and while he did text you sporadically about Youtube stuff, he didn’t feel comfortable messaging you about anything else. His mind always stopped him, questioning him on if what he wanted to say was really worth your time.

“Hi Sukuna.” Standing at the bread section, Sukuna nearly jumped into the air hearing your voice pop up next to him. There you were in a baggy hoodie and sweats, looking every part an unnoticeable member of society.

“(Y/N)? W-what’re you doing here?”

“Hm? I’m shopping.” You chuckled, showing him your handbasket.

“Right.” Nodding slowly, Sukuna eyed you up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and he could see they were red as well. You looked tired and worn down, not your usual happy self. “Hey (Y/N).”

“Yeah?” You were unprepared for the heavy arm that landed around your shoulders and even more at being pulled into an embrace. Sukuna hugged you to his chest tightly, squeezing the back of your hoodie in his hands.

“I…” He could feel you relaxing into his arms, heaving a deep sigh like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. “Don’t feel sad anymore.” Sukuna seemed to have a habit of saying the things he wanted to say in the worst way possible. What did that even mean? To tell you not to be sad anymore instead of offering something else, like his friendship, during this time. He wanted to tell you he’d be here for you.

“Thanks Sukuna.” Hugging him back just as tightly, he could hear you sniffle a few times. The hug lasted for a while, just standing in front of bread, and a good two minutes passed before you started to unwind yourself from him.

Keeping a loose arm around you, Sukuna kept you close, searching your face for any hint that you would possibly start crying. Your eyes were a little misty, and your lower lip quivered just a little, but you sent him a smile that made it all better.

“So, what’re you getting?” He asked, attempting to be casual.

“Well, I’m actually done shopping now and I just saw you standing here.” You admitted with a chuckle. “I know it’s been a while since we last spoke properly.” The last message you’d sent to each other was about a sim card two days ago.

“Don’t worry about it, you were going through stuff.” Shrugging his shoulder, Sukuna grabbed the bread he wanted. “I don’t want you to force yourself to talk to me if you don’t want to.”

“Sukuna, I want to talk to you more though! I know we only talk about Youtube stuff but I want us to be better friends.”

“Really?” Nearly crushing the bread in his hands, Sukuna quirked a brow at you.

“Yeah!”

“Well...alright then.” That made him really happy, like really really happy. You wanted to pursue a stronger relationship with him and while it wasn’t a romantic one like he hoped, he was still ecstatic on the inside.

“I have to go, but can we video call later? I have some things I wanna ask you.”

“Okay.” Giving you a brief wave, Sukuna watched you walk out of the aisle and out of sight. A silly smile stretched his cheeks at the thought of your call later, and it stayed on his face the whole way home.

Later that night, Sukuna was diligently waiting for your call. He kept his phone glued to his hand, something he didn’t normally do, just in case you called. At nearly 7pm on the dot, you called and Sukuna answered right away.

“Hi!” You weren’t in the baggy clothes anymore, it looked like you were in pajamas sitting on your couch.

“Hey.” Sukuna was sitting at his computer doing editing, so he didn’t have to worry about you seeing the lack of furniture in his home. All you had to look at was a blank wall behind him. “So, you wanted to ask me something?”

“Mhmm! I was wondering- well first, Sukuna do you watch anime?”

“Anime?” His face twisted up in mild disgust. “No, that shit is fucking lame.”

“Sukuna!”

“What? I’m not that much of a fucking loser to like anime.” Rolling his eyes, he immediately envisioned a man in his mothers basement jerking off to pixelated tits. “Why? Do you watch it?”

“Yeah…” Now you were embarrassed, and it showed on your face.

“Fine, you’re not a fucking loser.” Propping his phone up on his desk, he tipped his chair back and looked at the ceiling. “At least, not a total fucking loser.”

“Sukuna!” Now you were laughing at him, and he smirked at you. “You’re so mean, you know that?”

“Hey, that’s my brand ba-” He was about to call you baby, the word catching thickly in his throat. Luckily, he stopped himself and slammed his chair back down on the ground to cover it up.

“Well, now I don’t know if I want to ask you my question! You’re gonna say no right away.”

“Tell me.”

“No!” Shaking your head hard, you panned the phone up to your ceiling. “You’re definitely gonna bully me!”

“Who knew you were such a baby?” There, he’d called you baby like he wanted to. Not in the context that he desired, but he still got to say it.

“Am not!” Glaring at him, you exhaled shortly. “I was wondering if you wanted to come to this anime convention with me? It’s happening downtown in a few weeks and I’m a guest on a lot of panels this year. I want you to come with to help film stuff for me so I can make it into a highlights reel for my channel? As sort of a comeback video since I’ve been gone for a while.” It was amazing how you’d managed to say all of that so quickly without taking a breath.

“A convention?” Sukuna had only been to fitness conventions and a few that his manager made him go to.

“Yeah! And I wanted to know if you watched anime because I wanted to see if you’d cosplay with me!”

“Cosplay? What the fuck is that?” It sounded stupid.

“We would dress up as characters from an anime! Have you heard of demon slayer?” No, he hadn’t and his silence told you as much. “Look up Nezuko from demon slayer, that’s who I’m dressing up as!”

“Fine, one sec.” Quickly typing it into his computer, Sukuna’s brow rose seeing the character. “You’re gonna dress up as some BDSM girl?”

“It’s not BDSM!”

“Then why does she have that thing in her mouth?” What else could it be for?

“That’s because she’s a demon and they don’t want her to eat people!”

“God that’s lame.” Looking between his phone and the computer, Sukuna tried to imagine you in this outfit. It was cute, a cute pink kimono with a little hair tie and sash. The more Sukuna looked at it, the cuter it got. “But on you it’ll be cute.”

“So will you dress up with me?” You asked immediately, your eyes shining with excitement. “I already know what character you’ll be! There’s a boy named Inosuke that-”

“No way, save your breath. I’m not dressing up.” Doing a quick search of the boy in question, Sukuna let out a snort. “And why do you want me to dress up as someone with a boars head on? You saying I’m ugly?”

“You don’t have to wear the head!” The opportunity was quickly slipping through your fingers at seeing Sukuna cosplay. “It’s ‘cause you’re so fit and so is he! And you’re pretty similar too.”

“I don’t care if he was my twin.” Shaking his head, Sukuna closed the tab and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell ya what, I’ll come to this thing and take all the videos and pictures you want and in exchange, I won’t dress up.”

“Wait, how does that logic-”

“Just go with it. Now send me an email about the thing and I’ll clear my schedule.” Waving off any further questions you had, Sukuna quickly got the email for the convention. It was about two weeks from today, and it was going on for the whole weekend.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to make it?” You asked tentatively, worrying your lip.

“Of course.” Sukuna would definitely need to do some serious schedule rearranging. “I’ll pick you up like last time, just let me know the time.”

“You’re the best, Sukuna!” You smiled big at him and Sukuna smiled back. Maybe during the convention, he could show you he was more than just a friend.

When the day of the convention came, Sukuna got ready bright and early to pick you up. The sun had only just settled onto the horizon and he was chugging coffee before leaving.

“Hey.” You yawned loudly as you got in his car, still clearly half asleep.

“Cute.” Sukuna said in response. You looked absolutely adorable. The pink kimono looked good on you, the sash accentuating your waist well. The little green gag he’d seen earlier was hanging around your neck, and you had a cute pink ribbon in your hair.

“Hm? You like it?” Shuffling around, that was when Sukuna saw how high the slit was on your outfit, coming high up on your thigh. His eyes were glued to the skin that showed, unable to look away.

“I do.” He whispered, glancing at you briefly to see your eyes were closed.

“That’s good, I spent a lot of time on it.” Putting your seatbelt on, you yawned again and pointed lazily out the window. “To the convention!”

It was a short drive to the convention, and you were some of the first people there. With a badge around his neck, Sukuna followed you into the hall. You weren’t carrying the bag of camera equipment you’d brought, Sukuna insisted on carrying it so it wouldn’t ruin your costumes aesthetic.

“We’re here really early to get pictures! I booked with a professional photographer, and my pictures are going to be used as promo for a few brands here today.” You explained as Sukuna followed you into a room with a full photoshoot set up.

“Okay.” He was completely lost watching you begin to take pictures. After chugging an energy drink, you hopped straight into it. Sukuna made sure to watch the photographer closely, looking at the computer as the pictures popped up to make sure they weren’t indecent for you.

Nearly an hour and a half later and you were finally done. Sukuna had begun to film some parts of it for you per your request; his job as videographer started now.

“The convention hall is open now to everyone, it might be kind of overwhelming to see all the people out there.” You told him as the photographer was packing up.

“Eh, I’ll be fine.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Sukuna left the room and stepped out into the main hall. Immediately, he knew you were right. There were so many people already milling around dressed in costume, most from shows and games he’d never seen. The only readily identifiable characters for him were from Nintendo.

“Told you it was a lot.” Bumping him with your shoulder, walked out into the convention space. If Sukuna didn’t stand right behind you, he feared he would lose you in the crowd. There were other people dressed up as the same character and he couldn’t trust himself to differentiate between all of them.

Filming a little bit of walking around, Sukuna could hear and see people looking at him in shock. It wasn’t unknown that Sukuna had a distaste for anime and the whole culture surrounding it. Some of his most popular videos were him making fun of people at the very same thing he was at now.

“E-excuse me, (Y/N)?” A young teenage girl approached you, nervously fiddling with her phone.

“Hi!” You waved, immediately seeing her phone. “Do you want a picture?”

“Yes, please!” The girl's nerves quickly dissipated at your question, but she still looked scared of Sukuna.

“How about we take a few selfies?” Sliding next to her, you put an arm around her shoulder and posed. You and the girl took a numerous amount of pictures, and when she left she had a happy blush on her cheeks.

“Is that gonna happen often?” Sukuna asked, watching the girl disappear into the crowd.

“Yeah, sorry! I posted that I’d be going to this for the second and third day and a lot of people said they were gonna ask for pictures.” Rubbing the back of your head nervously, you sized up Sukunas face. “Sorry if it annoys you, I know it can be kind of tedious.”

“I don’t mind. Let's get going.” With a casual shrug, Sukuna walked to where your first panel was. He stayed off to the side as you talked to the organizers and other guests, feeling awkward that he couldn’t hold a conversation on whatever it was you were talking about.

The people soon filed into the panel, filling the seats and whispering excitedly about you and the other people sitting at the front of the room. Some of them noticed Sukuna and whispered about him too.

Ignoring them diligently, Sukuna filmed your panel from the back of the room. He didn’t need to worry about picking up any sound, you were speaking into a microphone. All he had to worry about was capturing good angles for you.

He did this for a few more panels as well, slowly getting more comfortable with people noticing him there. He even waved at a few fangirls that saw him, their faces erupting in a scarlet flush and giggling silly.

“We have almost two hours before my next panel, do you want to grab some food? I’ll pay.” Waiting in the back of an empty room, you tried to reach for your bag that Sukuna had slung over his shoulder.

“No, you don’t have to pay.” Pushing your hand away, Sukuna kept you at arms length.

“C’mon, you have to let me pay! You’re doing so much for me already!”

“Nope.” You tried to struggle past him and grab your bag, but Sukuna was strong enough to keep you at bay with one arm. “Fine! But I’m buying you a plushie later!”

“Whatever.” With the matter settled, the two of you left the room. Almost as soon as you came out, there was a loud gasp from a few people outside the door.

“Oh my god, your Nezuko is so good!” One of them shouted. Sukuna eyed him up, a young man dressed with a strange green and black checkered overcoat.

“Thanks!” You replied, fiddling with the edge of the brown one you were wearing. “I spent ages on getting everything just right!”

“Y-you’re (Y/N)! I didn’t think I was going to see you today!” Another man had on a similar getup to the first, but he was clad in yellow and orange.

“It must be your lucky day!” Laughing a little at his shocked face, you quickly noticed the third man standing there. “Sukuna look, this is what I meant when I said you should dress up as Inosuke!”

“Huh.” He looked at the shirtless man in front of him. The guy was muscular enough, not nearly as much as Sukuna was though. The brown pants he wore were too baggy for Sukunas liking, but he could see the way you were looking at him.

“Can we get a picture please?”

“Of course!” You quickly got in the middle of the three of them and crouched down, throwing up peace signs and smiling brightly as they took the selfies. Sukuna was watching all of their hands, making sure no one touched you or got too close.

“Sukuna, will you take a group picture for us?” You asked, already handing him a phone.

“Yeah.” You didn’t really leave him with a choice and it’s not like he was going to say no to you anyway. It was harder to keep track of just where these men were putting their hands, and every so often Sukuna would look to make sure that the hand placed on your back stayed there and didn’t go any lower.

“Thank you so much!”

“You’re the best, (Y/N)!

“Bye, please tag me in the pictures if you post them!” Waving cutely at them, you walked away. “Ah, that was so much fun! They were so cute!” Gushing about the pictures, you didn’t notice Sukuna had a vein throbbing in his forehead. He seriously wishes he’d dressed up in that dumb costume with you so you could feel the same way about him.

Quickly eating some fast food - much to Sukunas disgust - you were back in the convention hall. There seemed to be even more people here than before milling about. Gripping the back of your top, Sukuna made sure you didn’t get too far from him in the crowd.

“Let’s go check out the merch!” Leading him to a larger space in the convention center, your eyes sparkled looking at all the different vendors spread out. “Sukuna, is there anything you want to check out?”

“Not really.” The only thing he could see that he knew were some overpriced candies. “I’ll just follow you.” And that he did. You stopped at nearly every booth, rejoicing about how cute something was and how much you wanted a certain figure. Sukuna offered to pay for whatever you wanted, but you staunchly refused.

“Sukuna, which one’s your favorite?” Coming upon a booth filled to the brim with different plushies, you crossed your arms and squared your shoulders. “We aren’t leaving here until I buy you a plushie!”

“I don’t need one.” Not only would it ‘ruin’ his tough image, he didn’t like those things to begin with.

“Yes you do!” Stamping your foot childishly, you pointed at them. “Pick one!”

“Who knew you could be so mean?” He teased back with a flick to your forehead.

“Shut up.” Puffing out air, you grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the booth. “I’ll even help you decide.”

“O-oh.” You were holding his hand. You were definitely, 100% holding Sukunas hand. Your two hands were squishing his one in your palms, shaking it side to side as you looked at all the choices before you. How was Sukuna supposed to pick something when you were holding his hand so close to your body? He could feel the tips of his fingers graze your sash every couple seconds.

“What about this one?” You pointed your hands to a brown bear with a giant body but a tiny head.

“What’s wrong with the head?” He looked concerned at the doll.

“It’s supposed to be like that!”

“I- okay.”

“Do you like it?” Looking at him hopefully, you squished his hand even more. “It’s so cute, you have to get it.”

“Let me see it.” Picking it up with his other hand, Sukuna stared at the unmoving, smiling face of the bear. Squeezing it in his hand, Sukuna let out a short sigh and put it down. “Alright, I’ll get it.”

“Yes!” Letting go of his hand, you rushed to grab your wallet before he could stop you. “Make sure to send me a picture of you with it!”

Right after you finished paying, Sukuna nearly demanded to buy you stuff as well. He’d seen the way you were eyeballing the figures and some books, and he wasn’t going to be the only one to leave this part of the convention hall with a souvenir.

The bags he was carrying were definitely heavier now when you left to go to your next panel. They put a little strain on Sukunas arms but he wasn’t about to let you carry anything and quickly ducked back to his car to put it all away.

Right in the middle of your next panel, Sukuna ducked out to go to the bathroom. He was keeping well hydrated during this whole day and it was surely catching up with him now. Wandering the halls, he eventually found a bathroom to use and on his exit, he noticed a sign for something called an ‘artists alley’.

“Let’s check it out.” Here, there were people selling things but they were clearly fan made. There were paintings and pins, stickers and fan art everywhere. Wandering between the vendors, his eye caught on a particular booth.

“Sukuna?” The person gaped when he walked up but he wasn’t paying attention to them. On a cork board above them was a moderately sized drawing of you, dressed up in an all red get up.

“How much?” He pointed at the drawing, looking at the red cap you had on that matched with the red jacket.

“The (Y/N) x Cells At Work fan art? It’s $35.”

“I’ll take it.” The artist was clearly surprised, scrambling to grab the drawing and put it in a protective sleeve. “Keep the change.” Sukuna slapped 40 down and turned away. “Oh, and don’t tell anyone I was here.”

“O-okay!” They shouted after him. Sukuna kept the drawing close to his chest and when he got back he quickly hid it in his bag so no one would notice. He started filming again like he’d never left and you didn’t question him on it when it was over.

“Man, I’m so tired!” With the convention over hours later, you all but collapsed into Sukunas car. It had indeed been an eventful day between speaking at panels and taking pictures with countless people.

“Yeah, I’m beat.” Sukuna agreed, taking a moment to sit in silence in the driver's seat. He hadn’t expected to be so tired after today. He’ll have to prepare better for tomorrow.

Driving you home, both of you were like zombies as you departed. Sukuna didn’t even have the heart to properly disrobe when he got home, collapsing into bed with the plush you’d gotten for him still in his hand.

The next day was just as hectic as the day before, the word had gotten out that you really were at the convention and now more people swarmed you in between panels. Sukuna took the pictures for all of them, giving any man that wanted one a harsh glare before he started. He was easier on the younger girls, but he still made sure that they didn’t try to flirt with you or anything. No one could be fully trusted.

“Sukuna, I forgot yesterday but we need to go to the artists alley!” You exclaimed in shock, grabbing his upper arm. “They have such cool stuff!” Oh, Sukuna definitely already knew about it. The drawing he’d bought of you was hanging in his room, by his full length mirror so he could see it whenever he wanted.

He pretended everything was brand new to him, acting as if he’d never seen the pins before or the stickers and tote bags. Coming upon the artist he’d bought from yesterday, he noticed there was more fan art of you there.

“Oh my gosh, that’s me!” You giggled happily, pointing to yourself drawn as a Pokemon trainer. “It looks so good!”

“Thank you so much (Y/N)!” The artist gaped, clearly shocked to see you here. “I-I studied all of your pictures so I could get everything just right!”

“You did a great job!” The two of you went on and on about the drawings and other paintings that were there. Sukuna wished he could chime in and say that he really liked the art he bought yesterday, but there was no way he was explaining to you that he bought a drawing of you as a red blood cell. He would rather die.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, all the panels going by so fast and melting into one another. He didn’t feel the same exhaustion as the other day, but Sukuna was definitely still tired as he walked to the car.

“Sukuna, thank you so for this weekend, it really means a lot!” You were the happiest he’d ever seen you. The footage he’d filmed for your video perfectly captured all the good parts of the convention, with several shots of your smiling face with fans and other panel members. “How can I repay you?”

“Well…” There was something he’d been wanting to ask you for a while, ever since he saw you in costume. Today was the last day of the convention and subsequently the last day you’d be wearing this costume. “Can we get a picture together?”

“What? We never took a picture together?”

“No.” Sukuna chuckled at your surprised face. Rushing to his car, you set up a little stand for your camera on the hood of his car.

“Okay, let’s take some!” As soon as Sukuna was standing next to you, you wrapped your arms around his middle in a tight hug.

“W-what’re you doing?” Immediately, his face began to blush.

“You deserve a hug, Sukuna, you’ve been amazing.” Sukuna could barely breathe. Not because you were holding him firmly, but simply from the fact that you were hugging him of your own accord. His hands were shaking slightly as he moved to hug you back, grinning shyly at the pleased hum you let out when he did so.

The drive home left a bittersweet feeling on Sukunas tongue. He was glad it was over so that he didn’t have to wake up so early and deal with the gross crowds of people. There weren’t potentially disgusting men and perverts trying to take upskirt shots of your costume or grope you that he had to worry about.

Stopping at a light though, he realized how much fun he had as well. Listening to you talk and share your opinions on the panels was interesting and getting to hear others talk to so passionately as well had made him interested in a few shows. He knew you’d be ecstatic to hear that he could potentially get into anime, and Sukuna knew that at the next convention, he’d dress up for you. He also loved the bear you’d bought him even though that was something he’d never admit.

“Thank you again Sukuna, seriously.” You squeezed his arm as he pulled up to your house.

“Don’t mention it. Let me help you with the stuff in the back.” You’d bought even more things today than yesterday, mostly for friends and family that couldn’t make it to the convention. Gathering all the bags, Sukuna walked them to your door and wandered right into your apartment.

“You can put them all near the couch!” Closing the door behind him you quickly jogged over to the couch to help him with the bags.

“Whoa, your place is nice.” It actually looked like someone lived here as opposed to Sukunas place that looked like an upgraded jail cell. There was a fluffy rug on the wall and a few cute figures and small plushies on shelves, you had plants hanging down from the ceiling and it smelled vaguely floral. There was also a space dedicated to fan made art and gifts, with some fresh flowers sitting in a vase.

“Thanks! Maybe we can film a video here someday!”

“Definitely.” Mumbling dumbly, Sukuna was vaguely aware of you staring at him. “What?”

“You’re such a good friend, Sukuna. I can’t thank you enough!” Again, you hugged him. Burying your face into him, you shook his body side to side before quickly letting go. “Anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask!”

“Hey that’s my line.” Patting you on the head, Sukuna let a dumb smile spread his cheeks. He truly had the most fun ever with you, and for a moment he could pretend that you were a couple and that he was going to spend the night here, cuddle up with you and talk about all the dumb little things happened the past few days.

But he wasn’t dating you and his daydream only lived a few seconds before he made his departure. Going back to his own home, as Sukuna stepped inside he got a notification that he’d been tagged in a photo.

It’s one of the ones you’d taken together where you were hugging each other tightly. Your smile was genuine, showing all your teeth. Your eyes were crinkled at the corners, looking at Sukuna’s kind of surprised face with an indescribable warmth.

‘I love my friends’

That was the caption you’d put with a simple heart emoji after. There were people in the comments asking if this meant you were dating now, begging for you to admit it so they could say their ship sailed. Reading the caption over and over, Sukuna bit his lip to contain the feeling spreading in his chest.

‘I love my friends too’

He commented. And one day, he promised himself that he’d get to call you something more than just a friend. Wandering further into his apartment, he smiled like an idiot at his phone, quickly screenshotting the post.

“Ow!” Bumping his shin hard into his plastic foldable dining table, he was faced with the jarring reality of his surroundings. If he wanted to call you his, he needed to get some furniture first.

[jean-kayak]

A Little Reward

Summary: You agree to help Keishin study with a way that might help the information stick (GOOD GOD I am bad at summaries pls just read it)

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x black!fem!reader

Warnings: smut (18+!!), unprotected sex, minor fingering, dirty talk, degradation, daddy kink, ass smacking, handjob, groping, reader is picked up, a lot of biology references, college!au

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: So, I finally understand what I’m doing in my bio 183 class, and when I tell y’all I am ECSTATIC, so that’s where this came from

Tags: @her-majesty-kiara​, @iwascrybaby​, @mxhriii​

When Keishin came to you asking if you could help him out with biology, you'll admit that it took him more than a couple of times to convince you. He claimed that he was so bad at it and that he didn't know how well he was going to do on the test.

You also knew that he was so bad at hiding how much he wanted to fuck you.

You weren't stupid. You always caught the way he would stare at you, and you liked the attention, purposefully putting a little more swish in your hips, knowing his eyes were drilling into your ass.

He was always catching you before you could walk out of the science building, offering to walk you back to your dorm, and he would spend the whole walk trying to charm the pants off of you. You wondered how many girls fell for it, not saying that you weren't falling for it either, you just thought you could make him work a little harder.

And it's not like you didn't want to fuck him either. He told you he played volleyball in high school, but he's seemed to bulk up a little more over the course of you knowing each other, his clothes like a second skin, so it wasn't hard for you to imagine what was hiding underneath.

He sighs as he running a hand through his hair, effectively pulling his headband with it, so he takes it off, wrapping it around his wrist. "I'm never going to get this," he groans in frustration.

"You haven't even tried," you say lightly, moving to lean against his desk, resting your hands behind you.

"I've been trying for thirty minutes," he sighs again, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe you need a little incentive," you offer with a shrug, and he leans back in his chair, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah? Like what?" He smirks, and you tilt your head to look up at the ceiling like you're trying to think even though you already know what you have in mind.

"I'll ask you a question," you start. "And for every right answer, I'll take something off." His eyes widen a little, and you give him a sweet grin.

He scoffs. "You're serious?" You hum as you shrug again. "What's the catch?"

"Nothing. But I don't think you'll get very far," you taunt, and you can see the challenging shimmer in his eyes, a look he gets whenever you both try to be competitive with each other.

You give him about another thirty minutes to go over about a quarter of the notes before you get ready to start the questions. "Ready?"

He nods confidently, thinking that this will be a piece of cake when you know that it's going to be the complete opposite. "ATP. What is it?"

You start off easy, and he huffs as he leans back in the seat, resting his hands on his thighs. "Bottom line, it powers cellular processes," and you smile as you nod your head. "Come on, baby, you gotta do better than that."

You give him a bored look, but you chuckle at his obliviousness to your plan. You uncross your arms before slipping your shirt over your head, letting it slide off your fingers and onto the floor.

You see him take a deep breath as his eyes zero in on the white lacy garment adorning your chest, accentuating your brown skin, your nipples just shy of being seen. "How's it made?"

He doesn't hear you, or if he does, he's too focused on your boobs to answer, and you snap your fingers, and he blinks slowly. "From ADP," he answers, clearly distracted. "Substrate level whatever," he adds, and you roll your eyes.

"What's it called?" His gaze hasn't left your chest, and you walk up to him, leaning down to rest your hands on the arms of the chair. You know your boobs are falling over the edge of your bra, and he releases a breath before he brings his eyes up to yours.

You walk around to stand behind him, leaning back down as you slide your arms over his broad shoulders before you hover your head next to his ear. "Answer the question, Kei."

"Phos...phorylzation," he says slowly, and you smile widely. You walk back to stand in front of him, and you see his hands turn into fists when your hands reach under your skirt.

You thumb at the side of your panties before slowly pulling them down your legs, stepping out of them, holding them on the edge of your finger. "Good job," you quip, and he watches you throw them to the side, the article landing on your shirt.

You take a step closer to him, and you lightly push his hands off of his thighs before you replace them, straddling him, and he bites his lip to stop himself from making any sound. You can feel your slick soaking his sweats, not expecting to get so affected by how he was only looking at you.

"What's the role of oxygen?" you ask next, and he closes his eyes for a brief second before he opens them, feeling another wave of arousal rush out when you see how hazy his eyes are.

You brush a few blonde strands out of his face as you wait for an answer, and his hands are twitching from how bad he wants to touch you. "It, uh," he licks his lips, his head slightly falling back on his shoulders. "Carries out metabolism."

His voice is airy, and you hum softly as your hands run down his sides, staying at his waist. "You're starting to get it," you praise, and you grab the hem of his shirt. He looks at you, his brows jerking slightly at your actions. "Wouldn't be a lot of fun if I'm the only one stripping," you explain, and he slowly lifts his arms up, allowing you to pull the clothing over his head.

You bite your lip as you toss it to the side, your eyes landing on his lightly defined abs, and he tenses when you softly run your hands over his abdomen. His clothes did a bad job at telling you what they were hiding.

You internally shake your head, remembering what you're supposed to be doing, and you look up to meet his eyes as your fingers lightly press into his skin. "The four main stages, in order," you tell him next, and he sighs shakily as your nails drag down from his shoulders, making him shudder.

He gets halfway through the answer, and you roll your hips just a little, and his hands shoot up to your hips before stopping himself as his head falls back. Your arms wrap around his neck, your hands lightly pulling his head back up by his hair. "Finish it."

You can barely hear him, but he gives you the rest of the answer, and you grab his wrist and guide him to the clasp of your bra. He quick to undo it, and you slowly slide the straps off your shoulders, your tits falling onto your chest as you slip it off, throwing it on top of the rest of your clothes.

"Shit," he mumbles, his eyes focused on your nipples that are starting to harden from the exposure of the cold air.

You chuckle softly, starting to feel your body becoming warm under his heated gaze. You guide his head up by his chin to look at you. "Pyruvate. What happens to it?"

His eyes dip down to your lips as you speak before returning back to your eyes. "It's oxidized."

"Yes. And?" you press, and he's starting to have a hard time controlling himself. "You've been doing so good," you praise, grazing his sides with your nails, and he bites his lip again.

He can barely get the answer out, and you shift again, his breath hitching at the stimulation, and yours hitching when you feel how hard he is under you. You can practically see his arms shaking with the urge to touch you, so instead of stripping you allow him to touch.

You can barely get the words out before his hands are moving to your chest, cupping your tits in his large palm, and you moan softly. His fingers play with your nipples, and your hands grip his shoulders. He moves his hands to your thighs, barely covered by your skirt, and he runs his calloused hands over your skin before they make their way under.

His hands run over your ass before gripping the flesh in his hands and spreading you open before pushing you down onto him. You let out a louder moan in surprise, and he does it again, groaning just as loud as he bucks up into you.

You feel the air slip from your lungs for a split second before you stop him. "Slow down, tiger. We're not done yet," you chide even though you want to fuck him just as bad as he wants to fuck you, but you want to tease him just a little bit longer even though you're teasing yourself in the process.

He lets out a small whine in protest, not having enough friction, but he lets you keep going anyway. "Let's make this more interesting, yeah?" He barely lets you get off of him, but his hands grudgingly let you go, and you stand before getting rid of your skirt.

He shamelessly lets out another groan at the sight of your shiny folds, and when you pull at the waistband of his sweatpants, he's quickly lifting his hips so that you can pull them down. You go to scoff when you see that he's gone commando, but your mouth falls open when his dick springs up, hitting his taut abs, the tip a deep shade of red.

He watches you bring two fingers to your dripping hole, swirling them around at your entrance before sliding them in, and you both moan simultaneously. You thrust your fingers inside of you a few times before slipping them out, your fingers coated in your juices.

You rest your other hand on his thigh, moving the other one towards his straining erection, using your slick as lube as you stroke him. Your hand leaves him, and he feels like it's gone too soon, but then he sees that you're putting your legs on either side of him as you line yourself up.

He grips your hips tightly when he's fully inside you, sighing easily at the feeling of your warm walls around him. "Next question," you speak up suddenly, and he's looking at you like you have two heads, and you chuckle softly. "We have to make sure you grasp the concept."

You're asking him questions, and he can barely answer, the only thing he can focus on is how your walls are grasping him. He knows you're doing this on purpose, asking him the same questions but in a different way, rolling your hips every time he takes too long to answer.

And that's his breaking point.

You're about to ask another annoying question, and you cut yourself with a yelp when he picks you up, moving you to his desk. He brushes everything off in one sweep, setting you down, and pounding into you as soon as he sets you down.

You cry out, your arms wrapping around his neck. "Answer this question, sweetheart," he groans in your ear, grabbing your ass to further spear you with his dick. "You like it when I fuck you like this?"

The only thing you can do is make incoherent noises, the last thing on your mind is responding, and he smacks your ass, hard. "Answer the question."

"Yes, Kei! Fuck," you gasp, your eyes closing and your body going limp when he hits that sensitive spot inside of you.

"You like teasing me, huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a bitch in heat?" Granted, you didn't really expect this outcome, but you're nowhere near complaining.

The only way you can answer is by breathless, incoherent noises in his ear, and he's moving you, pushing you down flat on your back on his desk. He pushes your legs to your chest before resuming his punishing pace.

"You wanted to be fucked by Daddy's cock like a little slut, yeah?" he spits, leaning down to breathe against your mouth, and you don't know if he can see your nod, the only thing you can do to answer him. "Daddy's fucking you good, isn't he?" he asks, a shit-eating grin on his face knowing that he's rendering you speechless.

He reaches down to press down hard on your clit, making you jump as you dig your nails in his arm. "You gotta answer, or I'll stop," he threatens, thrusting his hips with a little more force to really nail your g-spot.

"Y-Yes, Daddy, s-so good," you moan, and he swears when you clamp around him, your climax nearing its peak.

He rests his elbows on the desk to give him more leverage, and that pushes your legs further into your chest, the air seeming to slip out of your chest. "Shit," he moans, savoring the feeling of you sucking him back in every time he pulls out.

"God, Kei, 'm close," you barely manage to say, and he closes the minimal distance between your lips, and you can barely kiss him back. He pulls your lip between his teeth when he pulls away.

"Then cum, sweetheart, cum," he breathes, and his body is tensing up as he spills inside you, but he keeps moving until you cum right after him, riding out both of your highs before slowing to a stop.

He moves his arms so that your legs fall, and you take in a huge gulp of air before your breathing quickly again. He puts his arms back beside your head before kissing you deeply, your hands brushing the hair plastered to his forehead.

"You know, I think I need some help with calc if you wouldn't mind?" he says, and you chuckle breathlessly.

"I wouldn't mind at all."

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - part 1

Here I am with a new Rowaelin. This will be a much shorter than ALB both in chapter length and story length. The idea came to me while on the bus home after work. It’s angsty,

A special thank you to @whimsicallyreading for being my wonderful beta <3

------

Rowan is involved in a motorbike accident while on his way to work. A crash that will have some consequences on his marriage with Aelin when he realises that he has lost his memory. Day by day they will have to find their way back to each other and and survive the challenges that life throws at them. 

-----

When the silver haired man opened his eyes it took him a moment for his vision to focus and take in his surroundings. The walls around him were a pale beige colour and the smell of disinfectant was the first thing that hit his senses. In the background there was a steady beeping sound and when he moved his head towards it he saw a machine tracking his heart rate. Hospital. He was in a hospital. A couple of bags with liquids were hanging from hooks at his side and the long plastic tubes ran to his hand. Another gentle motion of his head and he saw his right arm in a splint and his right leg propped up and enveloped in a protective support.

The man pushed his head back in the pillow and groaned. He was in an hospital. And slowly he realised that’s all he knew. His mind felt empty as he tried to think about how he got there. But nothing. There was nothing. He closed his eyes and blackness hit him. He clearly broke his arm and his leg, but how it happened? He had no idea. Slowly he realised that all his memories had started from the instant he woke up. That was all he had and a wave of panic hit him.

In that instant a nurse walked into the room to check on him “Oh, Mr Whitethorn, you finally decided to join us. How do you feel?”

“Whitethorn?” His voice gruff.

“Yes, that’s your surname.”

The man looked at her with a confused stare.

“Do you know where you are? What day it is? Your name?”

The man shook his head “but from the fancy machines and your attire I guess I am in hospital.” He managed to utter, his throat feeling scratchy from disuse. How long had he been asleep?

“Let me go and call the doctor.” And she hurried out of the room.

Whitethorn, his surname was Whitethorn. That was a start.

A moment later a woman entered the room “good morning you. Glad that you could finally join us.” She smiled at him and checked a few things. The doctor flashed a penlight in his eyes then held a finger in front of him “follow this.” She moved the finger from left to right and back and he followed it with his eyes.

“So, the nurse said you don’t remember much.” She straightened her back and saw her write some notes on his chart. 

“I can’t…” he whispered “why am I in hospital?”

“Your name is Rowan Whitethorn. A month ago you had a motorbike accident on your way to work. You have been in a coma ever since. You had a helmet on but still sustained some serious head injuries and you are now experiencing amnesia. It will be temporary and the memories will eventually come back.”

Rowan closed his eyes, he had a name now, another small piece to add to the infinite puzzle in front of him.

“I will schedule another MRI to check your progress since surgery. Now rest, I will get in touch with your wife and let her know that you are awake.” And the doctor left.

Wife. He had a wife. He was married and his name was Rowan and he had an accident.

*

Aelin left the OR exhausted. The last surgery had lasted for hours but she had saved a kid’s life. She threw her OR scrubs in the trash and walked back to her office, looking forward to sit down on her chair for half an hour at least. Her back was killing her and she definitely dreamed about a back rub in that moment. But her plans were thwarted when she got a page from doctor Westfall. Rowan was awake. He was finally awake. She told the nurses she was going to the neurology ward and that she had her pager on if they needed her and she ran to the elevator.

Once on the correct floor, she stopped. She had been waiting for that moment for a whole month and now she was scared. She was a neurosurgeon as well and, although she was a paediatric one, she knew what his injuries might cause. She spotted Yrene in the corridor and ran to her in a frenzy “Yrene, I got your page.”

“He is awake,” said the brunette “his functions are okay but he is has amnesia. We talked about the possibility.” She explained and Aelin nodded “I have ordered another MRI and I will have a better idea after.”

“Can I go in?”

“Yes, but remember that he might not know who you are.” And she patted Aelin’s shoulder in support.

Aelin nodded and pushed back the tears that had been forming at the corner of her eyes.

Rowan was awake. She had awaited that news for the last month but the happiness in her soul was shackled by fear. Deep unyielding fear. She might have him back but at what price? She knew that the type of injuries he had suffered could affect the memory. As a doctor she was prepared to face it, but as his wife, she could feel her heart aching at the possibility of being a stranger to the man who held her heart. Of him not recognising their children. With a deep breath she steadied her nerves and eventually she opened the door to his room. She had been waiting for that moment for so long, for the day she would go inside and find him awake, his pine green eyes on her once again.

A step inside and her hand went instinctively on her belly over her scrubs where her bump had barely started to show.

“Rowan…”

*

“Rowan…”

A female voice distracted him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a woman with golden hair and the most amazing blue eyes with a ring just as golden as her hair. She wore scrubs, probably another doctor checking up on him. But the way she had said his name was different from how doctor Westfall had said it.

She was stunning. That much he could admit.

“Ro…” she said it with a soft tone and moved a step toward him and he had a feeling she was not just a regular doctor checking on him. Why was she crying? Then his eyes moved to her left hand on her stomach and spotted a ring. He looked at his left hand and saw a matching one on his fourth finger.

His breath hitched at the realisation. The doctor had mentioned a wife. Was it her? Panic rose in him. He was not ready.

“Who are you?”

“Aelin. My name is Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius.”

Rowan froze. That was his surname and she had used it with what was possibly hers. The woman never moved from her spot. She just stood there staring at him, her blue eyes on him and he had no idea how to react. This woman was apparently his wife. What could he say to her?

“I am Rowan.” He said feeling stupid. She knew already but in that moment was all he could say.

“I know.” She whispered, finally moving a step in his direction “I have known your name for a very long time.”

“I don’t know you.” He admitted feeling his chest tighten.

“I know.” She sat on the chair beside his bed “I know. Amnesia will be temporary. It will slowly start to come back to you. You just need to be patient. Both of us.”

He looked at her and something tugged in him. It was as if although his mind could not recognise the woman in front of him, his body could. It was a strange sensation. The sense of familiarity. His guts were telling him to trust that woman.

“We’ll face it together. To whatever end.”

He had no idea what she was talking about but he wanted to believe her.

“Do you want me to tell you something about us?”

Rowan nodded, eager to piece together some pieces of the mystery his life had become. How had he ended up with her?

Aelin’s hand caressed her stomach.

“We met at University of Terrasen. You were studying law and I was in med school. We had friends in common and I met you at a party and  I thought you were the most obnoxious and annoying man alive.” He heard her chuckle “until a year later when you brought me coffee in the library while I was cramming hard during an exhausting exam session. Then you brought me cake and slowly I realised you were not that annoying.” She continued her tale while her hand gently brushed the tip of his fingers.

“You kept me company and studied with me while I was rambling on medical terms, procedures and other crazy stuff.” He heard her sob “and then we both realised our feeling had changed. We dated. A year later we moved in together. Once we graduated you proposed to me. We got married.” Aelin stood and paced and a ragged sigh left her mouth “after a lot of heartbreak and miscarriages we had our little boy Thomas. A year and a half later Freyja came along as well.” 

Rowan gasped. They had kids. He was married to this woman and they had a family and he could not remember any of that.

“Stop.” He said in a harsher tone than intended “This is too much.”

His wife sat back down and her puffy eyes broke his heart. How was it possible that he felt so heartbroken for a woman he had just met?

Except he didn’t. They had been together for a long time and that feeling of familiarity came back to hit him like a sledgehammer.

“I need to be alone.” He said, turning his head and heard her sob loudly and felt the urge to reach out to her. But he fought it.

He needed space.

“I have to go back anyway.” She stood and pressed a kiss on his head “I will see you later.” And left the room.

Rowan threw his head in the pillow and felt his eyes swell with tears. Why was he crying? Why sending that woman away hurt that much? No, not just that woman. His wife. He had a family, a wife and two kids and all of it felt overwhelming.

He wanted to know more, but at the same time he was scared. What if turned out he hated the life he had? Until his memories started to return he had to trust her. Believe that he had chosen that life.

He sighed and his thought kept going back to Aelin.

Eventually he fell asleep with the smell of lemon and verbena still tingling his nostrils.

Aelin quickly went back to her office, locked the door and collapsed on her chair. And cried. She knew it was a possibility. She had discussed it with Yrene after his surgery. She had been preparing herself for the last month but it turned out she had not been as ready as she made herself believe. In that room she had been a stranger to Rowan. Their kids were strangers to their father and she could not tell him again that another baby was on its way. It would have been too much. 

She cried, remembering how happy Rowan had been when, two months before, she told him she was pregnant again. 

They wanted a big family. They both had good jobs and could afford it. After years of loss they finally had their dream. And then that blasted accident happened. The car driver had hit Rowan and her life was suddenly plunged into hell.

A hell in which for a month she had to tell their kids why dad was not home yet. Console them when they could not play with their dad or have him read stories before bed. Her mum had been helping her looking after the kids while she was at work. But they missed their dad. Freyja especially who was his exact copy and not just physically.

Her sobs grew in intensity. 

She missed her husband too. Her heart ached for him. For the comfort she would find in his arms after a bad day at work. 

Her pager went off and Aelin quickly brushed her eyes and cleared away the tears and left her office in a rush.

She could hide her pain into work. Pretend, for a few hours, that she was not living in a nightmare. That her life with Rowan had not been put on hold. 

For a few hours, inside that OR she could just be Aelin.

[keijisdumcumster]

TALK TO ME NICE OR DON'T TALK TO ME TWICE

synopsis: you get into a fight

A/N if a bitch keeps trying you? bitch, knock the bitch out, i don't know what to tell you

PT ONE PT TWO

IZUKU MIDORIYA

"you feeling froggy?"

first and foremost, it was your second year at ua

you were at a restaurant celebrating your birthday. izuku had a surprise party planned back at the dorms but he wanted to take you out first, just the two of y'all.

the beef started when the hostess told you that you'd have to wait a while because the restaurant was understaffed.

that's a legitimate reason. that's fine but you weren't upset at that. what pissed you off was the fact that 5 minutes later when Izuku showed up, her whole tune changed. strike one

the second thing that shortened your fuse was when she was then assigned to wait your table. the hostess placed one menu in izuku's hand but let yours fall flat onto the the table before you. on top of that, anytime she approached the table she only responded to your boyfriend. it was like he was at this restaurant as a party of one. strike two

izuku was aware that this girl was just pissing you the fuck off at the point so he kept asking if you wanted to leave. he didn't want you to be in a bad headspace especially on your day but you assured him you could take it and you were fine.

the final straw was when your food came out. you'd ordered a sausage rigatoni pasta and when the girl served your food, she tipped the plate and the contents of it fell onto your white jumpsuit.

you weren't too concerned about the scorching hot food in your lap not the fact that that shit was gonna be stained a nasty red for who knows how long like izuku. you were more interested in the fact that this dumb bitch had disrespected you for the last time today

with all the commotion, you climbed up out of you seat and leapt across the table, successfully lunging at the girl

you'd gotten a few punches in before you were pulled off of her. you'd come up with a barely inflamed face from the one measly slap you received whilst the hostess had a busted lip.

you both ended up leaving with a complementary mini cake and a new order boxed and ready to go

"next time if you try to stop me while i'm whooping somebody's ass within 60 seconds, your ass is next"

KATSUKI BAKUGO

"talk shit get hit"

you were a known hot head. i don't know what possessed you into liking a mf like katsuki but it is what it is now he's stuck with your cute ass.

it started as a "who's better than who" type of competition until you both mutually agreed you could topple anybody if they even tried. this however unbeknownst to katsuki does not only apply to your hero training

you were no stranger to a hater talking shit and whispering about you or your relationship either behind your back or when you walk past them

now you mind your business fairly well, minus whenever mina and the girl come running to share the latest tea that's going around. you purposely however don't go around sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. people should take notes

this time you were having a bad week. you're stiff from encountering a villain attack whilst on patrol during your internship, you got into it with your mom the other day and you get to school today and monoma just being a little ass kid.

katsuki was walking down the hall with you, trying to help you keep it together

"you don't need to be big and bad all the time idiot. fall apart in front of me if you want to"

you weren't crying but anybody could tell that you were visibly upset.

all of a sudden, quite loudly might i add, someone said "look at that, the perfect couple. a hot mess and a hot head. guess which one's which"

you applaud her for her bravery. she'd tried the right one on the right day. anyone can say what they want about you but if you got something to say about katsuki, you got 5 seconds to talk your shit and then take this ass whooping.

you silently gave your boyfriend your earrings and bag before walking up to the bitch who was giggling with her little friend

"if you got something to say, say it to my face"

before any of them could get a word out, you socked the bitch in the nose. unlike izuku, katsuki didn't put much effort into pull apart the fight. he only heavily intervened when it was clear the bitch couldn't fight back as much. we don't kick nobody while they down

at the beginning, the girl's friend tried to jump in but katsuki gave her a look that basically said 'i suggest otherwise'

you walked away pulling your hair back away from your face and sighed "i really need a massage. i think i fucked up my back more"

[healpeony]

Cake

Eren yeager x fem!reader

Hello! Sorry for posting it so late I forgot xd.

Warnings; curse words, suggestive, 18+

Modern au

Gif not mine. Taglist; @erenswhore0

Who the hell made the recipe for cake soo difficult?, Why couldn't she just add flour, eggs, milk and finally mix. Y/n would've never even start doing the cake if she have known it was more difficult than it looked.

"I have to start all over again.." Y/n had said disappointed when she realized that what she made didn't even taste like cake and it was slightly burnt

She heard the door, and panicked. Did they let Eren off work early because of his birthday?, As the question went through her mind Eren had already made it to the kitchen where he stopped, looking around at the mess she made.

"Uhhh Happy birthday?" y/n murmured nervously

"Y/n.." Eren signed chuckling

"Hey! What's so funny Eren?" y/n asked him pushing him playfully

"You know you don't have to do this" Eren told her

The brown haired guy smiled grabbing both sides of her face, placing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"But I want to" Y/n protested "I can't even make a damn cake, look it got burnt" she pouted looking at the disaster of a cake that she made

"Don't worry, it's not like your gonna get it in the first try" Eren spoke while saying the famous phrase next "Practice makes perfect"

Y/n signed, "What present should I give you?, I wanted to make something myself, but look how that turn out"

"You being with me it's the greatest gift I could ever ask for" Eren answered, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her against him

"You're soo cheesy" Y/n had said blushing and rolling her eyes at his words

"You love me that way" he cockily says "Lets just order pizza, I love pizza"

"Yeah at least they don't burn it pizza, like someone burns cake" Eren said taking out his phone to order the pizza, and moving away from her to stand on the kitchen door

"Pizza sounds good" Y/n agreed

"Excuse me?!" Y/n hit the back of his head with a spatula

Eren laughed, right before the pizza place pick up the phone.

"Hello, Can I get a pepperoni pizza and a Vegetarian one as well, the one of pepperoni with extra cheese, please. Wait, let me ask someone real quick" he said before covering the speaker and looking at Y/n who was staring at him with a smile on her face "do we have soda? Or should I order one? Do you want anything else?"

"No, we have soda here. And I don't want anything else" she responded watching as Eren went back to the phone call and ending the call after asking for the total

"Well, guess we have to wait now" he told her

"Soo what do you want to do?" Y/n asked smirking at him, walking up to him and putting a finger on his chest trying to seduce him

"Oh I have a few ideas" the turquoise eyed guy responded also smirking at her, he lean down and stopped when his lips were close to her ear "Let's watch a movie" he whispered softly, before turning and walking towards the couch

"I fucking hate you Eren" Y/n said rolling her eyes, her skin felt so hot, she just wanted to get out of the clothes she had on

"So what do you want to see? A crime Documental? A chick flick? maybe Supernatural?" He asked her going through Netflix

"Supernatural" she said laying her head on his lap

They weren't sitting for too long when they heard the door bell.

"I'll go" Y/n stood up grabbing money from her purse and jogging towards the door

When she opened the door she was surprised to see that the delivery guy was Connie.

"Hey Y/n!" Connie happily said

"Connie, why are you working as a delivery guy?" she asked him confused

"Oh it's temporary, I want some extra cash so I don't have to use any money that my parents give me for poker" Connie responded while passing the two boxes of pizza to her

Y/n give him the money, with a few dollars as a tip for him.

"You want to come in?" Y/n invited him moving so he could come in

"No I have to work you dumbass" the boy answered flicking her forehead "Happy birthday Eren!" Connie yelled seeing Eren on the couch, even though he had already wished him a happy birthday in the morning

"Thanks!" Eren said from his place in the couch while lifting his head looking back a Connie

"Well bye!"

Y/n closed the door making sure to lock it and walked over to Eren giving the boxes to him. She went into the kitchen getting cups and the soda, before returning to the couch.

"Come on sit down" Eren was already eating from the vegetarian pizza and tapped his lap motioning for her to sit, which she did "I already want to see you stuffing your face with Pizza"

Y/n laughed taking one slide of pizza, and taking a bite, her eyes rolling to the back of her head from the delicious taste.

"I can make you do that way better" Eren whispered biting her ear lobe

The girl in his lap turned red hitting his shoulder "We're eating you pig!"

"And? If you want I could always eat you instead" Eren raised his eyebrows up and down

"Oh my gosh, what's wrong with you?... Stop it!" Y/n buried her face in his neck

"You're adorable" Eren laughed grabbing the cheek that wasn't pressing into his skin

"Stop.."

And to think this started with a slightly burnt cake that she didn't even bother to throw out instead feeding her friends with it almost a week later.

"Y/n!, this tastes disgusting!" Jean said throwing up the cake, while the others told him to stop doing that infront of them

"As long as it's food" Sasha said continuing eating the cake

Y/n laughed while shaking her head at her weird friends.

I tried to not make it smut or suggestive, but I just couldn't. I need help.

[gumnut-logic]

Virgil hurried through post-flight. The rescue had been a simple one, fortunately. He had been able to manage it on his own and in the shortest time possible. There were matters at home he would be more comfortable seeing to in person.

Sure, there was nothing serious to be concerned about.

He told himself that as he lowered Two’s hatch and leapt onto the concrete hangar floor.

Really, it was only a flu.

One that had kept his helmet on the entire rescue. God forbid if he transmitted anything to people already in dire straits with their health.

Fortunately, standard procedure kept both him and their equipment bug free.

He still didn’t like it.

Removing his helmet was bliss itself as he strode into the lockers. A few breaths later he had taken off his uniform, baldric and all; stashed what needed stashing and chucked the rest in the laundry.

The hot shower was absolute bliss.

So okay, there may be some aching muscles, but the exosuit had been needed. He could handle it.

He didn’t luxuriate in the water, he had more important things to attend to.

A towel and a loose jumpsuit later and he was padding barefoot up into the depths of the villa in search of the one brother who had been on his mind the entire rescue.

He found him in his bedroom.

The holoprojector was projecting some kind of fish and there was music blaring...well, it could be called music, he guessed. It sounded more like recycling bin lids being smashed together or that time Two  dropped a pod onto the hangar floor from twenty metres up.

His brother lay prone on his bed, eyes closed, brow wrinkled, skin pale.

Virgil fished the remote out of a limp hand and hit the kill switch.

The sudden silence was a blessing.

“Wha-?” Bleary eyes opened and sought out the cause. “Birg?” A slow blink. “Whatcha do that for? Pu’ it back on!” A hand flailed for the remote and missed.

“Gordon, you were told to rest.”

“Don’ wanna. Wanna die fightin’.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying. You have the flu.”

“Dyin’. Tell Penny I love her.”

It was at this point Virgil realised the state of the room. “What the hell have you been doing?” There were food wrappers, crumbs and a smeared slice of cake on the bedcovers.

“Last meal. Wanna go out ‘appy.”

“If you’re eating, you’re on the mend.” Which was a good thing and had Virgil feeling immeasurably better, but his brother’s bed was a rubbish tip and definitely a health hazard. His fingers darted over the covers, nabbing wrappers and several empty crisp packets. “You are a slob.”

“I’m a dyin’ slob. I live an’ die true to my nature.”

“You can say that again.” Virgil grabbed a recycle bin and a pair of latex gloves and began shovelling crap off his brother’s bed.

“Hey, that was still goo’.”

Virgil eyed the half-eaten pancake with congealed cream. “Perhaps, if you want to add food poisoning to your death certificate.” It was tossed into the bin. “Where did you get pancakes from anyway?”

“Stash. Emergency stash. I’ secret.” Gordon flopped in a dramatic way. Particularly dramatic since he was still lying down.

An arched eyebrow. “Sure.” But the next wrapper contained the remains of a stick of Blackpool Rock.

Virgil held it up, examining it. “Gordon, is this mine?”

Foggy brown eyes peered up at him. “Oh.”

“Gordon! Penny gave them to me.”

“But I wanted some.” It was such a whine, it was painful.

“Then why didn’t you ask her to get you some?”

The grump that appeared on his brother’s face was almost comical. It would be more comical if Virgil wasn’t holding back the urge to add strangulation to his brother’s supposed death certificate.

As it was, Gordon’s mumbled response was a clear indication that he had asked Penny for some Rock, but had been denied in some manner.

Hence the thievery.

Virgil sighed. “You could have ordered your own.”

“Not the same.”

“But stealing mine is?”

“You don’t mind. You’re a softy and I’m sick.” Yes, that was definitely a childish pout.

“I’m a softy, huh?” He must remember to disprove that allegation and seek the appropriate revenge.

After his brother was better.

Virgil sighed.

Gordon knew him far too well.

“You suck.”

“I’m dyin’ here.”

Virgil shoved a slice of cake in the bin, followed by three more empty crisp packets and a cookie wrapper. For god’s sake, the rescue had only taken him an hour. How much could one flu-ridden aquanaut eat?

There was raspberry jelly in a big blob sitting in a crease of duvet fabric. For a split second, his mind registered it as blood and his heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon!”

“Wha-?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Wa’ accident.”

“You could have cleaned it up.”

“Can’t. Dyin’.”

Oh, for crying out loud. “You’ll need to get out of bed and change the sheets.”

“Why?”

Virgil pulled back the edge of the duvet to uncover his brother for some motivation only to find a worm of spray cheese curled up beside him.

“My god.”

“Wha-?”

“Gordon, get out of bed.”

“Why?”

“I need to change the sheets.”

“Why?”

“Because you are disgusting, that’s why.”

“Don’ wanna. Dyin’.”

Oh, he was getting closer to dying by the moment. Fratricide. Definitely fratricide.

“Move your ass or lose it.”

“No.”

“Gordon.”

“Let me die in peace.” And as if to prove the point, his brother coughed a little and then burst into a horrendous fit, possibly attempting to turn his lungs inside out.

Virgil’s heart softened as he held him. “C’mon, Gordon, relax. Calm your breathing.”

Gordon let out a decidedly childish whimper and curled up under the rancid covers in a ball of misery.

Another attempt. “Let’s get you out of those bedclothes and into something clean. You will feel so much better.”

Gordon grunted. “Leeme ‘lone. Dyin’.”

Virgil straightened up, his back creaking. A sigh. Okay, they were going to have to do this the hard way.

Just like any mission, Virgil gathered his tools first. Fresh sheets, a spare duvet, pillow and pillow case. He stacked them up in strategic positions beside his prone and still moaning brother.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of bed, so I can change the sheets? You do realise I have a duty of care. One that means I have to make sure you don’t expire due to exposure to your own swill.”

“I’m not a pig.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“You hur’ m’ feelings.”

“Too bad. Get out of bed.”

“No.”

“Gordon...”

“No. Lemme die in peace.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He didn’t give his brother a chance to question that before ripping off the disgusting duvet and throwing it across the floor. Gordon yelped and curled up. He was only wearing pyjama shorts in typical Gordon fashion.

“Virgil!”

Without another word, he stripped the sheets from beneath his brother, whisking them away not unlike a magician removing a tablecloth from under fine china.

Gordon still yelped.

The pillow was chucked and with some determined aquanaut manipulation, the bottom sheet was replaced. Gordon squirmed under his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What needs to be done.”

The pillow was replaced and the new duvet gently laid down.

Gordon grabbed at it as if it might suddenly disappear on him again.

“There, done. Please try to keep them clean this time otherwise I’ll do that all over again.”

“You are cruel.” Gordon glared a teary glare up at him.

Virgil grunted. “Yeah, well, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m dyin’. Give me a break.”

Virgil snorted and piled all the discarded bedclothes together and threw them down the laundry chute. He must remember to put in some serious germ killers in with that lot.

“Go to sleep, Gordon. You will feel better, I promise.”

“Hate you.” His little brother curled up into a ball of misery.

“Yeah, sure you do.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and brushed Gordon’s hair back from his forehead. He was a lot cooler than he had been earlier.

Thank god.

“You’re getting better. Get some sleep.”

Gordon mumbled something into the sheets and closed his eyes.

Virgil brushed his hair again, gently stroking his fingers amongst wavy strawberry blond.

He didn’t leave until his little brother’s breathing dropped into the regularity of sleep.

A small smile to himself and he headed towards the door.

Tripping on a stray soda can, he nearly fell flat on his face, barely catching himself on the edge of a desk.

His hand landed in something sticky.

Oh, god.

He bit back his brother’s name as he stalked out.

Disinfectant.

A hose.

Maybe Two’s water cannon.

Yes, his water cannon.

It would solve so many problems.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Pairing: Suit Saeran x Non Gendered Reader

Description: A little fic based on that gorgeous Suit birthday title screen CG we got this year. Go on, put on that dazzling outfit. There is one problem here with Suit’s plan though…you don’t know ballet to perform for him. Guess you’ll just have to dance together </3

Little note for readers who don’t identify as female: On stage, EVERYONE wears makeup (lipstick, eyebrows, all of it) in order to emphasize features for the audience to see. And costumes are also very important, including ones with glitter! Suity here doesn’t discriminate, everything here is following performing arts rules. Feel free to think of the costume in any way you like as it isn’t referred to as a dress! It’s anything! Local theater kid here isn’t a lier promise.

I wrote this pretty much exactly after the CG was revealed :3 so it’s older

————————————————————

“Perfect...what a well behaved doll~”

Saeran crossed his arms in front of him, showing you his signature smirk in a smug look of victory. He studied you, traveling down from your face to the outfit you so graciously modeled for him, admiring the way it hugged your waist and fell with such a poof at the bottom, black feathers adorning the soft silky material. He coughed upon noting the exposed bit of skin the outfit left in your chest area, and he made it painfully obvious that where his glance landed up was the cause of the tiny loss of composure.

You couldn’t help but feel rather flustered under his gaze, relief washing over you as his eyes finally met yours again.

“So...it took it being a special day for you to finally listen to me? Well? Did you enjoy the show at least, toy? Wasn’t it cute? The little dolly made of my little doll finally doing what you’re supposed to do. Entertaining me! That is your purpose! And today…,” he huffed through his nose with laughter. “You’re finally going to do that properly! That wasn’t just any old puppet show...but a demonstration of how today is going to go. You’re going to dance for me as I sit back and enjoy my cake in front of you...and if the performance is good enough, you can have a bite. Aren’t I generous today?”

He snickered as you tried your hardest not to sigh tiredly, not necessarily completely annoyed by him but…needless to say this wasn't something you’d have planned. There was a short pause as he tapped his foot a few times impatiently. Clearly you weren’t getting his message.

“So then, toy? Dance for me! And dance for this sugary treat~”, he cackled, sliding the small plate in your direction before pulling it back, taunting you much like a toddler. Perhaps waving a reward in front of your face would light a fire under you.

It was moments like these where you found yourself wondering what good you initially thought you’d get from blindly following a complete stranger to a hidden location in the mountains. Truth be told, today you were mainly humoring his whims because of the sheer amount of detail and effort he put into this charade, and because you were curious to try on that exquisite costume. Birthday boy or not...this couldn’t become a regular thing of his.

“Oh..oh oh oh and one more thing.”

Saeran rather excitedly crouched down for the blue present box underneath the table, easily popping its lid off and pulling out the final piece of your outfit; the same feathers and golden crown worn by your doll.

“Aren’t you excited? You get to be royalty for the day...my prince(ss)..my birthday present to play with! Why else did you think I’d instruct you to wear your hair like that before I came?”

Sending someone in to do your hair for you that evening and pamper you was the proper explanation for what actually went on. It wasn’t like it would be an easy feat to add such a lovely jeweled hair piece to your do alone. The timid believer who assisted you even brought you a perfume sent by him...so you, according to the note attached, “wouldn’t smell so awful”. On the bright side, you really did feel dazzling, the pearls in your hair matching the ones on your new attire.

“Well...come closer so I can put it on you. I won’t bite...as long as you listen,” he teased, bringing himself forward to close up more of the gap between you two.

You bowed your head slightly in response as he fiddled with how the headpiece sat, occasionally feeling his hands smooth down and readjust little parts of your hair. Once he was confident the job was done, he took a step back to admire his work of art. He seemed proud of his accomplishments; his ability to get you to play dress up for him and how the puppet show went so perfectly after so much practice...and now was the time for his hard work to pay off. He expected you to make every bit his birthday fantasy come true, which was evident in everything from his expressions to body language. But there was a problem. You didn’t know ballet.

Saeran took his birthday hat and placed it upon his head grumpily before plopping in the seat you once previously enjoyed his performance in. He sat with a slouch, bringing his plate of cake to him, noming down on a small bite before speaking again with his mouth a bit full.

“Come on, toy! I’m waiting now that you’re all ready!”

He tapped his foot impatiently again.

You decided to address your concerns slowly.

“Uhm...Saeran..? The dance you made the puppet do was ballet…”

“Yes, aren’t you clever? So do some ballet for me.”

“That’s the thing...I haven’t done ballet since I was practically a baby. I’m not sure how to...and you’d have to turn on the music-”

Rational thinking interrupted your nervous attempt to reason a proper way to do this. “And hey...why am I dancing for you anyways?”

He tilted his head, raising a brow in disapproval.

“Because I say so, and because you value your life and your stomach. Remember? I can toss you out at any time,” he puffed, “and this cake will save you from your misery of having an empty belly. You will work for your food and convince me you deserve it!”

“...Ok..? But again...I don’t know how to do ballet anymore-”

Saeran cut you off with the sharp screeching of his chair’s legs dragging backwards against the ground, standing swiftly.

“Did I ask for excuses..? Hahaha...most people would be more pleasant on their birthdays..”, he stepped towards you. “...Is that what you’re expecting from me? Hmm? To be all sweet and sappy because it’s my big day? Extra nice to you? I still won’t tolerate disobedience...in fact, I have less patience today!”

He finished his march to you until he could make certain his dominance was well established through a face-to-face threatening scowl, towering over you best he could. He cupped your chin, tilting it up so you were forced to meet him in all his fury.

“You’re going to dance today. You’re going to dance today because I ordered you to do so, little airhead. Even if I have to force you!”

Releasing his hold on your face, he then grasped your left hand, intertwining your fingers, giving you a good yank forward into him. He caught you on his chest as you gasped in slight shock, the feeling of his hand making its way to the side of your waist; the unexpected cold touch making you shiver as you felt it through the fabric of your outfit.

There was an awkward pause as the two of you stood together in silence for a moment, Saeran just watching you with bated breath. The quiet was eating at you, feeling your heart clamoring against your ribs as you waited for him to initiate something. Your stare drifted down to his chain which sat within your outfit’s front feathers before moving back up. It was cute that he’d pick out a gold one for his birthday. You piped up as you heard him finally swallow saliva.

“We uh...need music..if you want to dance together. I think this is a good solution, actually.”

You gave him a smile, the same gentle look he’d cursed dozens of times before for making him feel so gross in the stomach. He kept quiet this time, but your expression made him feel no different than usual, if not more so.

“I knew that. Obviously we can’t dance to nothing. Tch, don’t get smart with me…”

Sure he knew that.

He let go of your hand to reach out and press play on the little radio he’d tucked away behind the little stage, contorting himself to stay close to you before returning to your old ready to dance position. He pulled you to the right with a shuffle together away from the set to a clear space in the room, closer to the window, the glow of the soft moonlight catching on the intricate glittery details of your costume.

Saeran stared for a mere moment, stiff as a statue as you placed your free hand on his shoulder. You could tell from the shifting of his eyes he was trying his best not to gawk now that he was getting a solid look at you up against him, clearing his throat with an “akhem” to collect himself. He’d never admit the tips of his ears felt hot to the touch.

Finally, with your prompting, the inviting melody which drifted through the room allowed the two of you to begin swaying together; Saeran watching your feet to understand the 1-2-3 step movements you did. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, grinning confidently as he took more lead and a firmer hold on your waist. It was a simple dance, rocking a tad and moving in a circle, the expression you showed him sweet and caring as he peered into your reflective (e/c) pools, (and perhaps it was flustered and nervous too). He, on the other hand, wouldn’t allow his mask of cocky satisfaction to be taken off so easily, despite the rosy hue his pale cheeks took on.

“My my...such a warbled little smile I’m receiving from you~ are you enjoying this, doll? Don’t lie, I can see just how red you are..pfft- is dancing with your prince something you’ve day dreamed about before? You and your delusions-”

You decided to outright call him out. He can’t just tease you like this when he came up with this whole plan in the first place, now can he?

“Says the one who made a detailed puppet set of the building we’re in. And two dolls of us. And got me a costume. And got me ballet shoes, which my whole outfit matches the doll’s exactly, by the way. And you even put on a whole show, plus made me do my hair the way you like...who’s day dream are we actually living out? Oh and don’t forget...you’re the one who took my hand to dance too~”.

You winked at him, eliciting a low growl which rumbled in his throat. His face grew redder, perhaps with rage.

“Hey...I never said I didn’t like it. The detail is incredible, and I’m being honest. I’m not sure how much work you put into it all...but I can tell it was a lot. You, sir, have a hidden talent. I’d like to see what else you can do with more free time for yourself….”

He sneered, “I’m not going to keep humoring you with more stuff like this, if that’s what you’re implying. Maybe with more free time, I’ll only find myself coming up with new ways to make you bend and break! But, I will take your compliment as you can at least appreciate this all as a work of my geniusness. I’m a busy busy man, but I found free time to set up a playdate with my toy. So stop pushing my buttons! You should feel lucky I graced you with my presence! It’s my birthday...and I’m stuck looking at your stupid face!”

“Hmm...again, with all that planning I think someone wanted to see ‘my stupid face’. And I do feel lucky, because I get to spend your birthday with you, although I wish I could have organized something myself. And what I meant was...Saeran this is a work of art. The dolls look hand crafted and painted, including the outfits which must’ve been sown for today in order to match perfectly. I also noticed the pearls on my costume match the ones on your birthday hat. And the set...some of the paint even appears as if its liquid leaf...which it might not be but still. Once we’re finished dancing, I want to go and admire your efforts. Especially the cute little replica of yourself you made~!”

Saeran sputtered angrily.

“You….are certainly an A grade weirdo. Don’t you hate this, even a little? Isn’t it sucky for you? Having to be my puppet today!”

“I’m no one’s puppet. I’m enjoying myself because I get to dress up, dance with you, and learn about a new skill of yours.”

He stopped your swaying with a halt, and you could feel his once icy hand in yours growing hotter by the second. His grip tightened as if to warn you he might hurt you with a squeeze, but within a second, it softened, and he let go momentarily to run it through his poofy locks. He grumbled.

“I don’t know why I even bother with an airhead like yourself. You didn’t even use the stamps I left so clearly out in front of you.”

You grinned at the opportunity suddenly presented to you. You hadn’t given him a birthday gift yet, and here was the chance to give him something small, but memorable.

“Hey Saeran...do you like the shade of lipstick I’m wearing today? It’s kind of purpleish..you know, a combination of red and blue. Like your stamps if the ink is mixed.”

He gulped, furrowing his brows.

“What are you getting at? I don’t care about your silly stage makeup I instructed the believer to do...”

You faked a sigh, “Sorry, sorry. I’ll make sure to get on that last bit right now about the stamps, since we’re no longer dancing.”

Without hesitation, you took him by the open sides of his striking suit jacket, pulling him to you to turn and plant a quick but firm kiss on his cheek. You then let him go, drinking in his wide eyed blushy appearance, raising his hand to touch the prominent lipstick mark you left on him. He wiped the area as if to show he didn’t like it, only to look down at the swipe of purple on his fingertips.

“See there? A stamp! And there’s more where that came from~”

[winterhawk-olympic-bang]

How To Edit Your Writing

Guest Poster: Chronicwhimsy

Here is our final Writer Workshop post, written by Chronicwhimsy. Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.

Editing: a drive-by guide

Hi, my name is Claire, and I’m an editor.

(Hi Claire)

I’ve been asked to give a quick guide on tips for editing your stories, as I’ve been a beta/editor for various fanfic writers over the years. I’m a professional editor, working for a publishing house in the UK, and I offer independent freelance editing too, via my website. I’ll be on the Discord server answering questions this evening, but I’m also happy to chat to people either through my website or even if you wanted to drop me a line on tumblr.

The key thing to remember about editing is that the end goal is to make your story the best it can be, and make sure your initial idea comes across as clearly and purely as you first imagined it. It’s about ensuring that the lines of communication between you and your reader are 100% open.

To do that, you need to have finished your story, because you can’t fix something that doesn’t exist.

Then you edit.

What now?

So, you’ve finished your Winterhawk Olympic Bang Fic, and you’re wondering what to do next?

The very first, and most important thing you should do? Celebrate. I mean congratulate the hell out of yourself, pat yourself on the back, and have some cake. Finishing stories is hard. Getting through a first draft is one of the trickiest parts of writing, so you should be proud of yourself, and proud of your story.

Because in a short while, editing is going to make you hate both.

I mean that in the nicest possible way of course, but you absolutely are going to be thoroughly sick of this whole thing by the time you’re done, and you’re going to question everything you’ve ever written. You’re going to get a close-up view of all your narrative bad habits which will make you think you’ve never had any skill at all, and you’re going to re-read your work so many times that it’ll feel trite, old, uninspired. This is normal and it is your brain lying to you. If you remember nothing else, remember that!

“The writing itself is no big deal. The editing, and even more than that, the self-doubt, is excruciatingly impossible.” Jonathan Safran Foer

Don’t lose faith! Editors and editing exist for a reason, no first draft is perfect. You’ve done something amazing in finishing, and now you’re going to make it incredible.

Before You Start - Take a Break

You know the phrase “can’t see the wood for the trees”? It could just as easily be “can’t see the story for the words.” It’s never recommended to go straight into editing as soon as you finish writing, and part of the reason for that is because you’re too deep in the story to be able to assess it objectively, or to catch things that are missed out because you know they’re there, but the reader wouldn’t.

“Once it's done, put it away until you can read it with new eyes. When you're ready, pick it up and read it, as if you've never read it before.” Neil Gaiman

Most writers and editors advocate putting a story away for a month or so before returning to edit, so you’re looking at it with fresh eyes. Obviously, with a Big Bang (or other fic event) this sort of time is usually at a premium! Try and make as much space as you can while still leaving yourself time to edit.

If you really don’t have any time, one trick that can help is changing your location. If you write in your room, can you relocate to your kitchen? Or a café (if you can safely)? Could you print it out? (Printing Top Tip: if you do print it, try and do it double-spaced - this makes it easier on the eyes, and gives you room to make notes. Also, serif fonts can often be easier to read than sans serif fonts, as it gives stronger distinctions between different letters.)

The Filter System

I like to think of the editing process as a series of different filters which, when used one after the other, produce a finely-sieved finished product. Each filter stage has slightly smaller holes than the one before it, as you look increasingly closely at your work.

Filter 1: Structural editing

Does the story make sense? Is the pace okay? Do all the scenes work where they are, or would they be better elsewhere? Do some scenes need to be there at all? Is the characterisation consistent? Does anyone change names halfway through? Did you forget what time of year it was set halfway through?

Filter 2: Line editing

Is this phrase as tight as it could be? Have you repeated yourself anywhere? Does this sentence add anything or does it throw the pace off? Have you gone overboard with adjectives and similes? Have you been too sparse with them?

Filter 3: Copy editing

Is your style consistent? Did you start writing in present tense and switch to past tense? Could this scene transition be snappier? Are there any bits that you want to tidy up? Have you left any half-finished sentences because you got distracted before you could end it?

Filter 4: Proofreading

Is everything spelled correctly? Have you caught all the strange grammar mistakes?

Some of these things might be picked up by your beta reader if you have one. Different beta readers have different styles, and also they will work based on their relationship with you and what you prefer. Some may stick to proofreading and consistency-checking, others may be more confident to dive right in and look at structure, pacing and characterisation. Some may work through the process with you as you write, others may only look at the story when it’s complete so they can get a full overview. There is no right or wrong answer, and having a conversation with your beta about your respective styles at the start can help you work better together!

Filter 1 - Structural Editing

For this stage, you want to read your whole story through from start to finish, and resist the urge to tweak anything to begin with! You will want a way of making notes as you go through because as you do, you’ll make yourself a cheat-sheet to help you with your line edit. Things to keep track of:

Character name spellings

Character ages

Character relationships (drawing a relationship web can be very helpful to visualise this!)

The time span of the story - the date it starts, the date it ends.

As a subset of this, I find it can be very helpful to set up a spreadsheet with a timeline of what happens in the story, and who is involved. Doing this both chronologically for the characters and in order of how it happens in the story can help you keep track of what characters know when, and also when the readers find out certain information. You might have one of these from when you were planning your story (as detailed in Sara Holmes’ workshop). If you’ve kept it up to date with changes to the plot and structure as you’ve written, this will be super helpful.

At this stage, you’re looking to see if everything works as a consistent story. You want to check to see if it feels like it’s the right pace, or if there are bits where it drags or rushes through the action. Why is this? Are there scenes which aren’t adding anything to the progress? Could they just be referred to in passing, or removed entirely without impacting the story? Are there other scenes which need to be added to provide more detail and growth? Is there anything that you as a writer know that is essential to the story, but you forgot to actually put in the text?

“Crafty writers...don't allow Exposition to form Lumps. They break up the information, grind it fine, and make it into bricks to build the story with.” Ursula K. Le Guin

You’re also looking to see if the characters feel true to themselves all the way through. Do the relationships spark? Do they sound like themselves? Can you hear them in your head?

Some people recommend doing several structural edits, with a different focus each time. One pass to look at the pacing, one pass to look at the characters, one to look at the story arc. You’ll work out what floats your boat, but you will be re-reading this story a lot of times before you’re done editing - which is why it’s very important to write what you love and want to read! You’ll go through many stages of hating this story before you let it go, and that will be even harder if it wasn’t something you enjoyed in the first place.

Filter 2 - Line Editing

So you remember I told you to make all those notes during your structural edit? Here’s where you’re going to use them. Now’s the time to go through your story line by line and check that the details in your cheat sheet are correct all the way through the story. I’ve written a novel that I initially set in November, but by the time I finished it, I’d decided it was taking place in early May. I had to go back and fix all the dates and weather descriptions to make sure the action hadn’t actually been yeeted forward six months spontaneously in the middle of a conversation.

Arguably, the line edit will be the most painful part of editing. At this stage, you will be taking a fine-tooth comb to everything you have written, examining it to within an inch of its life, and casting judgement. You’re going to find every stylistic tic you have (for me, everyone is constantly quirking their eyebrows and smirking like they’ve got cramp in their facial muscles), and you’re going to get rid of them (a person only has so many eyebrows, and they can only quirk so far). Now is the time to kill your darlings - don’t hang on to anything unless you feel it’s really doing a job to further the story and the characters.

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler's heart, kill your darlings.” Stephen King

If you have ever worried about the unbearable sensation of being Known, the line edit is where you will experience that with every word, and you’ll be doing it to yourself. This is when the doubts will really start to creep in and you will maybe feel like everything you write is unoriginal, derivative trash and unfit for human eyes.

Here I’ll reiterate what I said above:

This is a normal feeling, everyone experiences it when editing. E V E R Y O N E.

It’s a lie. No-one else will ever read your story in this state, no-one else will ever read your story this closely. Of course it feels obvious and uninspired to you - you wrote it. It’s your idea, and you’ve read it several times, it holds no surprises for you. (I may be projecting my feelings from every time I’ve edited something here, but…)

You’ll also be catching any ELEPHANTS or whatever your mammal of choice for placeholder text is that you’ve stationed throughout the story as a flag for you to come back and add in a name, or a food, or a song title later. You know, the things you decided were a problem for Future!You. I have bad news, the future is now.

Top Tip: if you have changed someone’s name halfway through, DON’T for the love of Mike, just do a straight find and replace to correct it. Because that’s when you suddenly find out how many other words actually contain names (Mark became Bill? That’s great, until your characters are going to the superBillet to buy groceries). Some word processing programmes have a “whole word” option which is your friend, otherwise ensure to put spaces either side of the word when you search. If you don’t, you’ve just made another horrible job for yourself...

Filter 3 - Copy Editing

Once you’ve made it out the other side of the Line Edit (and given yourself a nice treat to congratulate yourself because that stage is HARD), we get onto copy editing. This is basically the set-dressing stage. You’ve built the house, you’ve decorated the room, and now you’re just making sure every bit of furniture is in the right place for optimal feng shui.

Here’s where you go through and go, do I really need a dash here, or could I just use a comma? Could I use fewer commas? Could I go in and move all of @kangofu_cb’s commas around because I’m the sort of person who will come into your house and change how you hang your toilet paper or where you keep your ketchup.

Now is the time to be as picky as possible, like you’re an interior designer for the most demanding client in the world and the ornament must be exactly equidistant from both ends of the mantlepiece and facing precisely south-west. Things that may have just survived your line edit will be measured again, and if they’re found wanting, then they get binned.

“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very’; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.” Mark Twain

Another thing you might like to do here is check that all your features and things are correct. Did you make a wild claim about the lifecycle of salamanders, or the average price of corn and then never go back to verify this? Take a second to just do that now. It may be that you decide it’s not a problem (I received one copy edit note saying that an idiom used in a book wasn’t recorded until 200 years later, and I made the editorial decision that no-one would care), but for bigger things you may want to make sure you’re accurate.

If you google it (as I just did, to make sure I was definitely giving you the right information), copy editing is often conflated with line editing, and that’s because in reality a lot of the elements of copy editing actually wouldn’t usually be done by the author, and are probably irrelevant to fanfic. The copy editor is responsible for ensuring the book has a consistent grammatical style in line with the preferences of the publisher (em-dash or en-dash, curly quote marks or straight ones, how you deal with acronyms, what needs to be italicised, etc. etc.), which isn’t necessarily required for fanfic. In reality, for fanfic I’d use this stage as a second, lighter line-edit to see where things can be tightened up in phrasing, as well as perhaps a preliminary proofread where you start to mark up any spelling errors.

Filter 4 - Proofreading

By this stage, you’ll be exhausted, and sick to death of the blasted thing. But the end is in sight! Now you’re onto the proofread. This is another close read, where you go through and check for spelling errors, typos, missing full stops, strange formatting stuff (which probably will be less of an issue as AO3 basically makes everything uniform anyway).

Before you even start this, change your font.

We’ve all been there, thought we’d caught every spelling error, every weird typo, only to spot six immediately after posting. That’s because after a certain point our brain becomes used to the font we’ve written in, and will automatically correct things that aren’t right. AO3 has its own unique formatting - colour, spacing, font - and the minute your fic appears on there in this new format you brain wakes up and is like “oh shit, yeah, that’s not how it should be.”

By changing the font before you proofread, you preempt this step.

Another thing to remember: it’s unlikely you will ever catch every mistake. Published books regularly go out with a smattering of typographical errors throughout the text - how many first editions of books are valuable because of misspellings that slipped through the net? You’re only human.

“Connie's other job was proof-editing which she did very badly. Transferring the author's corrections to a clean sheet of proofs was something Connie was unable to do without missing an average of three corrections a page, or transcribing newly inserted material all wrong... she put angry authors' letters about the mutilation of their books under the cushion of her chair to deal with later.” Muriel Spark, A Far Cry from Kensington

Often, spelling errors and things you would look for in a proofread are things that a beta reader will pick up as they go, as they’re the easiest things to spot, but it’s also worth looking over yourself for anything your beta might have missed.

Whether you decide to follow any or all of these steps, always do the proofread last.There is no point carefully spellchecking a chapter you are then going to delete, or proofreading the whole thing, but adding loads of new paragraphs later that either don’t get looked at or mean you end up having to proofread twice. That’s the only hard and fast rule when it comes to editing, and it will save you a lot of unnecessary work!

FREEDOM

And then, finally, unbelievably - you’re done. Your literary child is ready to leave the nest. Resist the urge to keep re-reading and tweaking. Instead, click “publish” and give yourself a nice little treat. You’ve earned it.

Miscellany and Disclaimers

These editing stages are ones that would be applied to a published novel. An author would probably do this several times - once on their own to get it ready for submission, then perhaps again with their agent, but the really heavy work would be done with their editor. The structural edit would be done under the advice of an agent or editor where the author looks at their comments, rejigs things accordingly, and lather, rinse, repeat until everyone’s happy. The editor would undertake the line edit, and the author would decide what they wanted to keep or change. The copy edit and proofread would be done in-house or sent to freelancers, with queries and changes wafted past the author for clarification or approval.

Self-published authors will often hire freelancers to help at various stages to get feedback and advice.

Very rarely would an author go from draft to final published piece by doing all their editing alone. Because it’s hard fucking work, and because your brain will get exhausted.

In light of that, you need to remember:

You’ve written a fanfic

The editorial standards of fanfic are significantly less stringent than published books

Editing by yourself is really hard work that many people are often paid to do for published books

No-one is paying you for your fanfic

Fanfic is supposed to be fun

Some published authors will edit and rewrite and edit and rewrite again and again. At a panel I attended, Joanne Harris said that if she didn’t rewrite her work at least five times she was being too easy on herself, while Joe Hill said he usually aimed for three rewrites - Joe edited as he went along, going over the previous day’s pages before continuing, where Joanne completed her manuscripts before editing. Elizabeth May has talked about her stages of drafting, starting with her Trash Draft, then her Clean Draft, and then rewriting and editing after that.

These are people who are writing professionally, getting paid for their work, and so the time they put in has monetary results. If you want to write original fiction, their advice is extremely valuable.

For fanfiction, it’s a large time investment for something you’re doing as a hobby for free. If I’m strictly honest, I’m fairly lax with my fanfiction editing. I do structural discussions and tweaks with my beta reader as I write, and then a spell check. I’m also aware that my fanfics aren’t narratively complex, nor do they seem as polished, rich and deep as some of the other works out there. That’s fine by me. You simply need to find the level you’re happy at, where you can still feel proud of your work but you’re enjoying the experience.

In the end - it’s all for fun!

Resources:

Online

Curtis Brown Creative: An Editor’s Guide to Editing Your Novel

Joanne Harris: Ten Tweets About Editing

Joanne Harris: Writing Resources

NerdsLikeMe: Beta Reading vs Proofreading vs Editing

Books

Stephen King - On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Ursula K. Le Guin - Steering the Craft: Exercises and Discussions on Story Writing for the Lone Navigator or the Mutinous Crew

[cali-holland]

Priceless- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: You’ve never liked people spending money on you or being at large parties, but Tom seems to forget that as he goes a bit overboard when celebrating your birthday.

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: I wrote this weeks ago and forgot to post it, my bad if it’s shit- it’s unedited; also I have no clue how much student loans are in the uk or if they even exist so i made it based off the us average and i’ll just stop rambling now oops

~~~

“Tom, this place is really nice.” You breathed out in awe of the dimly lit, but extravagant restaurant. While you felt almost embarrassed by your simple little black dress and non-designer shoes, your hands began to shake a little, thinking about how expensive this dinner must be.

“Anything for my special birthday girl.” Tom beamed, pulling out your chair for you to sit down.

“I wish you would’ve told me we were coming here. I would’ve dressed better.” You said quietly as you sat down in the chair, eyeing the women in fancy dresses at the tables surrounding you two.

“What are you talking about? You’re the best dressed person here.” He sat down across from you, adjusting his tux as he did so, and a sharply dressed waiter came up to the table, offering you two champagne immediately. Before you could kindly decline the offer, Tom insisted on the drinks.

“We’re celebrating tonight.” Tom stated, holding up his champagne flute out to you once the waiter had left. “To the best day of the year: happy birthday, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, clinking your own glass against his before drinking the expensive liquid. 

Being with Tom for the past two years, you were used to the sweet date nights and the amazing birthday gifts; today was just different though. He’d never taken you to such an expensive restaurant before, not one that is so pricey that they don’t even bother to add prices on the menu (which upset you because you couldn’t even choose the cheapest option). You loved your boyfriend very much and you were appreciative of all the romantic dates he took you on and of the incredible gifts he’d give you, but sometimes it concerned you how he’d so willingly spend his money on you. He’d give you a million dollars if you asked for it, no matter what day it was. That is exactly why he didn’t know about your student loans or any of your past due bills- you were a staunch believer in making your way on your own, and that meant not using your boyfriend’s seemingly endless cash flow to help yourself out.

Tom knew you weren’t a fan of him spending money on you, and he also knew you weren’t one for big parties or celebrating your birthday. The diamond necklace that sat on your neck from your last birthday was proof enough of how Tom used your birthday especially as an excuse to give you more expensive things.

“You know I’m paying you back for this, right?” You said as you looked over the menu. Tom laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re not paying for your birthday dinner.” He replied, taking your free hand and holding it in his.

“I’d let you pay for the full meal if we were at McDonald’s, not at some 5-star restaurant.” You stated.

“I think it’s only 4-star.” He joked, but his smile dropped when he saw your frown. Tom lightly squeezed your hand in his. “Let me spoil you tonight, please? Just for tonight.”

“You’re unbelievable, Holland.” You rolled your eyes at him, but still cracked a smile, your thumb gently tracing against the back of his hand.

“I love you, Y/N, but I’m paying for tonight.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled, and he leaned over the table to kiss you.

After a rather delicious five-course meal, you and Tom got into the car, and he took off his suit jacket. While he removed his tie, you took the opportunity to look at the dinner receipt from his jacket pocket.

“Wait, stop!” He reached to take it out of your hands, but it was too late because you had already seen the receipt.

“£400? Are you crazy?” You exclaimed, blinking to make sure you’d read the receipt right- that wasn’t even including his very generous tip (which you weren’t going to complain about that bit).

“Was it not a good meal?” Tom questioned, taking the receipt back from you and putting in his pants pocket this time.

“It was the best food I’ve ever had. I just wish you wouldn’t spend so much on me.” As he pulled out of the parking lot, you took out your phone, pulling up Venmo.

“No, you’re not allowed to pay me back.”

“Well, I said you weren’t allowed to spend that much money on me.”

“It’s your birthday, please let me spoil you a little.” Stopped at a red light, he turned to you and pouted. You sighed, locking your phone.

“For your birthday, I’m taking you to a ridiculously expensive restaurant too.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before the light turned green and he had to start driving again. It took you a minute before you realized he was going in the wrong direction of your flat. “Where are we going?”

“I thought we could go for some drinks before going home.” Tom suggested, but something about his smile made you think it wasn’t a spontaneous thought.

“Yeah, why not?” You replied, not seeing the harm in just going with him. It’s not like you had a choice since he was already driving there anyway. You really just wanted to go home and have a nice night with him, but he was excited about whatever surprise he had planned for you and you weren’t going to ruin that for him- you already felt guilty enough about the dinner (although you did actually really enjoy it, all expenses aside).

“What are you up to?” You asked as he parked the car in front of a strange building. It was too dark for you to even try to guess what it was.

“Come on, love, you’ll see.” He smiled, getting out of the car and hurrying to open your door before you had the chance to. He held your hand, walking you up some sketchy looking stairs. It wasn’t until you got to the roof of the two story building that you really got confused. It was far too dark for you to decipher what was going on.

“Happy birthday!” A large crowd of people shouted, the lights kicking on to illuminate the roof. You smiled, speechless, seeing all the people cheering for your arrival. You weren’t even sure that you recognized a good amount of them.

“Happy birthday, darling.” Tom grinned, wrapping his arms around you. He gently kissed the top of your head, proud of his work.

“Wow, thank you.” You told him, sounding effortlessly enthusiastic about the party. Music started playing from the large speakers, and people started dancing along to the beat, getting back to their own conversations.

“Follow me.” Your boyfriend tugged on your hand, dragging you through the crowd to the far corner of the room, where a birthday cake was sitting in the middle of a large table. The cake itself was the size of a small table; in fact, you were sure it wouldn’t be able to fit on your own kitchen table. It was the most beautiful birthday cake you had ever seen for yourself. Covered in white frosting, it had your favorite flowers and lace all around it with “Happy Birthday, Y/N” written in your favorite color across the middle.

“Do you like it? I got it from the nicest bakery in town. My mum helped me with designing it, and I know we already had dessert at the restaurant, but you can’t have a birthday party without-” You cut off Tom’s nervous rambling by kissing him softly.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You reassured him, giving him another kiss to calm his nerves and to calm yours as well. You already knew how expensive dinner was, and something told you this party and that cake definitely wasn’t on the inexpensive side of things. His heart was in the right place, but it was just too much for you. Needing another distraction, you spoke up again, “Drinks?”

“Right this way.” He led you over to the rooftop bar, ordering you both a couple cocktails. As the bartender worked on the drinks, Tom got a call and stepped out to the stairs for some privacy.

“If you’re the birthday girl, why are you looking so down?” The bartender asked you, a kind smile on her face.

“Is it wrong of me to say I’m not into big parties like this?” You replied with a small laugh, “I’m grateful for it, but it’s not my scene.”

“So I’ll make this extra strong for you.” She joked, but still had a heavy hand as she poured tequila into the mixture, “You know, you’ve got a pretty remarkable boyfriend there. I’ve worked here a long time and no one’s ever rented this whole place out.”

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, not sure what she meant.

“This is a rooftop bar. We don’t do individual birthday parties, but,” She trailed off whistling, “When someone offers up that much and they’re a celebrity, can’t exactly say no.”

She laughed and slid your finished cocktail over to you. You knew she meant nothing bad by her words, and yet you still felt your gut twist as you looked around the party at everyone socializing. It was a sweet gesture, yes, but did Tom really have to dent his wallet for it? With how much he was spending for today, you knew it had to have some effect on his wallet.

Just before you could take a sip from the cocktail, your phone dinged. You looked at it in confusion as a notification came through from your bank account app: “new transfer pending”. Your heart started to race, thinking someone was somehow scamming your money, but when you looked, you saw a ridiculous amount of money being transferred into your account with the memo: “happy birthday, darling”.

You shot up from your seat at the bar and marched off to find Tom. He was still at the stairs, having just gotten off the phone with a small smile on his face. He must not have processed the angry look on your face as he started, “Your birthday gift still isn’t here. I’m sorry, I really wanted it to arrive by today.”

There was a lace of sadness in his voice, clearly disappointed, but you couldn’t focus on that. Instead, you held up your phone, displaying the new transfer on your bank account. “What the hell is this?”

“That’s for your student loans.” Tom said, the happy smile returning to his face. “I don’t know how much you owe because you won’t tell me, so I just kind of guessed.”

“Tom, you can’t just give me 15,000 pounds!” You exclaimed in frustration.

“Is that not enough? I can-” He started, reaching to take out his phone again.

“No.” Tom paused at your harsh tone, “Stop giving me money. It’s suffocating me. The world already thinks I’m a golddigger just because I’m dating you and they know I can’t afford diamond necklaces.” You pointed to the shiny piece on your neck. “I know your heart’s in the right place, but I can’t keep feeling like this, like I’m your charity case first and your girlfriend second. I want to be with Tom Holland, the dorky boy from Kingston that I fell in love with, not Tom Holland, the celebrity that just flaunts his wealth every chance he gets. If you want to make me happy and make me feel special on my birthday, make me a cake yourself or something; I’d much rather have something priceless with sentimental value than have something expensive that you bought just because you could.”

It was Tom’s turn to be speechless now, completely taken aback by your words. You sighed lightly, stepping forward to give him a quick kiss.

“Thank you for tonight, but I think I’m just going to go home.” You left down the stairs quickly, calling for a cab as you did so, leaving Tom abandoned at your own birthday party as he tried to process how his genuine actions backfired so much.

You didn’t sleep well that night, too caught up in knowing you’ll have to talk to Tom about all this eventually. It wasn’t something that you wanted to break up with him over, unless it got too out of hand, like if another 15,000 pounds suddenly appeared in your bank account. As much as you needed the money and appreciated the thought, you couldn’t accept it. You loved Tom because he was so considerate and thoughtful, and you knew he was only doing this because of that loving personality of his.

It wasn’t until later that night that you started to grow worried about your relationship. Normally, if you two ever fought (which only really happened once and for some reason neither of you remembered now), it would take only a couple hours before one of you apologized, and it had been hours since you left Tom, hours since you last heard from him. You had texted him last night to let him know you got home alright, to which he replied later that he was also home, but there was no “we need to talk” text or call.

Just as you were about to go lose yourself in a pint of self-pitying ice cream, you heard a knock at the door. You were expecting Tom on the other side when you opened the door, but you weren’t expecting him to be holding a covered platter and a gift bag.

“Is it too late to celebrate your birthday properly?” Tom asked, hopefully. You smiled, stepping out of your apartment to give him a kiss.

“Come on in.” You replied softly. You opened the door further for him to step inside beside you. He placed the gift bag and the platter down on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“I’m sorry for last night. I overdid it. I just wanted you to feel special.” He said, sitting down on the couch and you sat down beside him.

“I don’t need a fancy dinner or a big party to make me feel special. You make me feel special whenever I’m with you.” You reassured him, and he picked up the platter, shakily handing it to you.

“I can’t promise it’ll be any good, but I tried.” Tom admitted sheepishly as you unwrapped the aluminum foil around the platter. You smiled in awe, looking at the two layer round chocolate cake on the glass platter, which you now recognized as Nikki’s. It was the exact opposite of the cake from last night- a messy frosting job with no flowers, lace, or letters. You could even see the cake sticking out from under the frosting when it was spread too thin.

“You- you baked me a cake?” You asked, looking over at him. You felt tears prick at your eyes and Tom let out a nervous laugh.

“You’re not supposed to cry. Does it look that bad?” There was a sense of worry in his voice, but he felt relieved as you leaned over to kiss him.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” You set the cake aside to come back to it later.

“I didn’t make the frosting though. I tried, but it was too runny.” He stated, making you giggle.

“That’s when you add more powdered sugar.” You explained and he handed you the gift bag next. “Is this what was supposed to be here by yesterday?”

“Yes. It arrived this afternoon. There’s actually two things in there.” He replied,  a smile playing on his face while he wrapped an arm around your waist. You reached your hand into the bag and felt around. You didn’t need to fully unwrap the tissue paper to know it was a jewelry box, your eyes subconsciously widened at the feeling.

“It’s not what you think it is.” Tom laughed, knowing you’d think it was a ring.

“Not like we don’t know my answer to that.” You teased as you took out the gift. You opened the small black box to see a thin silver necklace of your birthstone resting against the velvet backdrop.

“Now, if you don’t want it because of last night, I- I can take it back.” He offered, scratching the back of his neck. “I know you don’t want me spending excessively, but I saw this weeks ago-”

“Tom, I love it.” You gently took it out of the box, handing it to him so that he could put it on you.

“Okay, so the last one,” He started nervously, before rambling, “I’ve been working on it for a couple weeks, I just needed the one last thing to actually finish it though, so I couldn’t really do it until today. I can always fix it if it doesn’t look right. And, yeah, just open it.”

“Well, now, I’m intrigued.” You laughed, slowly pulling the last gift from the bag. Tom tensed beside you, but you were far too overwhelmed, holding back tears, as you looked over the blue photo album. You turned through the pages, taking in each photograph he had put in it, reading each comment he’d written under it. It was like a story of your relationship over the years, and there was still plenty of room left in the back of the book for the future.

“See, the book was late, and that kind of set me back. I didn’t mean to ignore you today, but between the book and the cake, I was preoccupied.” He laughed lightly.

“You’re by far the best boyfriend ever. I love you so much.” You turned to him, letting a few tears escape. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and kissing you.

“Happy belated birthday, darling.” He told you softly once he’d pulled away. You quickly got up to grab a couple forks from your kitchen before sitting on his lap on the couch. You balanced the photo album in your lap, so you could continue to go through it, while Tom held the cake platter.

“Let’s see how good this cake is.” You teased, clinking your forkful of chocolate cake against his. Tom watched as you ate your forkful first. The sweet chocolatey taste you were expecting wasn’t there; instead it tasted bitter and almost like bananas. You swallowed it and smiled, trying to play it off, but Tom could tell.

“It’s shit, isn’t it?” He asked, putting a forkful in his mouth before you could respond. He groaned at the horrible taste.

“Did you store it next to bananas?” You laughed.

“Only for like a hour!” He defended.

“I think you put too much baking powder in here. It shouldn’t be that bitter.”

Tom sighed, setting the platter down on the table. You smiled at him, still laughing a little at the cake, “You tried, and I love you for that.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​  @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​ @hollandsamor​

Tom Tag List:@quaksonhehe​ @tomkindholland

[peaxhcringe]

Katsukoia Headcanons

This is for my lovely mutual @vhskenma for Christmas. I absolutely love you so much and I’m so happy we became friends. I love our simping nights and talking about anything and everything. You are so sweet and I love you so much! 

Genre: Fluff and smut (the last scenario) 😈

Paining: Bakugou and Sequoia ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Songs and Lyrics:

I see us dancing by ourselves

We do it better with

No one around, yeah

Just you in my imagination, yeah

In my imagination, oh, oh

'Cause I loved you dangerously

More than the air that I breathe

Knew we would crash at the speed that we were going

Didn't care if the explosion ruined me

Baby, I loved you dangerously

Cooking w/ Katsukoia

Will always end with one of you covered in flour

No matter what you’re trying to make flour will be EVERYWHERE

There will be a few stolen kisses here and there

The first thing you guys try to make will be a cake as in Bakugou’s words

“It’s simple enough for a dumbass like you to make”

Well...it wasn’t

A few dropped eggs, spilt sugar, and some stray bowls later you had a pretty good cake

He wouldn’t let you eat the cake batter though 😔

Every time you tried he’d knock the spoon out of your hand and call you a dumbass

Now there was a time where you guys ended up burning cupcakes

It totally wasn’t because you guys ended up making out on the counter top and forgetting about the cake....yeah totally not that

Just...don’t remind him about it unless you want to tease him of course 👀

Study Sessions

Study sessions could go 1 of 2 ways 

A typical study night that ends in cuddles 

or 

With you underneath him covered in marks littering form you neck down to your thighs 

It all really depends on how you do during your studying

Remember that scene with him teaching Kiri? 

Yeah, he’s like that

It doesn’t matter that you two are together 

He is here to help you learn 

Typically study sessions consist of him drilling the questions and answers into your brain until you could say it in your sleep 

He can be a bit harsh at times, but he never means it truly

On the nights where he’s a bit horny though? 

He’s completely different 

He makes rules for you to follow 

For every question you get right is one orgasm

but

For each wrong one is one taken away 

Best expect him to pick a hard subject some days, but then a very easy one that WILL leave you overstimulated by the end of the night 

And on those nights...

You will not be able to walk for the next day 

Clumsy

When you told him that you were clumsy he didn’t think it was that bad 

It was that bad 

You’d trip over air or bang your fingers in the cabinets as you grab a bowl 

Mans really thinks of you as a child sometimes 

He’s always bandaging you up

He’s also very rarely seen you without a band-aid on your face or ever around your fingers 

He’s very carefully around you sometimes, because you seem to always have a new bruise on your body 

You really hit the limit though when you showed up in his room with a cast on your arm 

He just looked up from his phone and rolling his eyes at you, before opening his arms

He didn’t bother to ask what happened, knowing it most likely something stupid 

Which is was 

He was very correct 

You had actually broken your arm from falling down the stairs at UA 

How did it happen?

You blame it all on Denki and Kirishima 

You all were running through the halls (much to Iida’s dismay) and you didn’t watch where you were going and fell down the steps

Of course you all laughed after you got up

that was until the pain set in 

Recovery girl was not pleased so she only healed you halfway 

Bakugou might act like you get on his nerves, but he does love taking care of you 

He does like cuddling with you for hours when you get hurt 

Mans is just touched starved

Spanish Bakugou Smut 

When Bakugou began learning Spanish you though it would be great idea, him focusing more time on that than training almost all hour of the day. Well that was until he began using the Spanish in more way than just typical conversation. You blame all of them on Sero, that man knew exactly what he was doing when he agreed to help Bakugou.

It was about a month after he began learning the language when he started using it in the bedroom. Although you didn’t understand what he was saying much, the tone and his voice said it all. His deep voice speaking in such a fluent and smooth way made your stomach flutter every time his whispered or growled words into your ear.

You still remember very vividly when he first used it in bed. Your head was pressed into the mattress, your hands trying to grasp onto anything to ground yourself. One of Bakugou’s hands was placed on your lower back while the other was holding down your head, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair as his cock was burrowed deep inside you.

You could barely speak, your brain turning into mush as his cock hit your g-spot at every movement he made. Your legs trembled as you held your ass high up into the air for him, your toes curling at the pleasure.

“Katsuki~” You moaned, his name being the only thing your brain could comprehend

In a swift motion the hand that was deep into your hair, pull your body up towards his your back now pressed against his sweaty stomach as his other hand came and wrapped around your stomach, his fingers tilted downward towards your clit.

“Te sientes tan bien princesa (You feel so good princess) “ He mumbled into your ear, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear 

Your pussy clenched against him when he spoke, the deepness of his voice and the words making your body feel 10x hotter. You felt him smirk against your, before his lips kissed along the shell of your ear down to you neck.

“Oh? A mi princesa le gusta mi español? (Oh? Does my princess like my spanish?)” 

Although you had absolutely no idea what he was saying, the words lit a spark inside of you. You body keened forwards as you felt his fingers brushes against your clit, one of your arms raising up and wrapping behind his neck in order to keep your body up, your fingers tangling into his unruly hair. 

“Answer my question princess” He spoke, his fingers pressing softly against your clit, careful to not add enough pressure to send you over the edge 

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond as you couldn’t understand. You eyes fluttered closed as his began to place careful circles around your clit, your climax so utterly close. 

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you asked yes~” You moaned, your hands tightening in his hair causing a deep groan to leave his throat 

“Buena niña (good girl)” He said, his hand removing from your hair to travel down to your breast, his fingers finding your nipple and twirling it 

Your eyes closed at the pleasure, your heat beating heavy against your chest. 

“I-I”m gonna cum” You moaned, your head leaning back against his shoulder, your legs trembling as your feel your high on the tip of your tongue 

“Cum para mi princesa (Cum for me princess)” 

At his words you felt your body keen forward, this being the hardest you’ve ever cum. Bakugou groans behind you,as he cums, his hand move from your breast to your face moving your head towards his. His lips press against yours into a  loving kiss, the room falling silent, only the sounds of your breathing filling up the space.  

Ever since then Bakugou has always made sure to tease you, whispering random phrases into your ears while your doing homework or just randomly in class, which of course always ends up with your bent over something and his cock shoved deep inside of you.