#words alone cannot express this I need to explode

[crypticoba]

OH MY GOOD HEAVENS

I prayed for times like these

[narxcisse]

Can you please do an express their love with the legendaries? Sea fairy, Fire Spirit, etc etc? :3

— How they express their love.

– With: Sea Fairy, Moonlight, Fire Spirit, Wind Archer, Frost Queen, Stormbringer and Black Pearl.

– CW: implicit(? past SeaMoon mentioned.

— A/N: Remember, requests are open! You can read my pinned post for more information. (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

— English isn't my native language.

— Sea Fairy

She shows her love through quiet, constant presence—always there beside you when you need her, even if you never ask.

She often gazes at you with that same longing she once reserved only for the moon, eyes full of soft sorrow and hope.

Her voice is rarely raised, but when she speaks to you, there’s a softness even the tides don’t hear.

When she holds your hand, it feels like waves brushing the shore: patient, cool, and always returning.

“I have known eternity in solitude… but your presence feels like something I was always meant to find.”

— Moonlight

She often pulls you into dreams with her, where you drift among stars and forgotten spells in peaceful quiet.

Her love appears in gentle touches—brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, resting her head on your shoulder, watching you as you sleep.

She still dreams often, but now she looks forward to waking up—because you’re there.

Sometimes she reaches out in her sleep, fingers brushing yours, murmuring your name like a lullaby.

“I see you, even in dreams. Especially in dreams.”

— Fire Spirit

He shows his love loudly—boasting about how lucky you are to be with someone as amazing as him... while clinging to you like wildfire.

Playfully teases you until you laugh, then gives you a wink like he’s just conquered the world.

He gets weirdly possessive whenever another Cookie flirts with you—but he’d rather explode than admit it bothers him.

When you’re upset, he’ll burn down the problem... or at least threaten to. He's not great with feelings, but he'll try, for you.

“You’re the only one I’ll turn the heat down for... don’t tell anyone.”

— Wind Archer

He watches you quietly from the treetops and always lands softly at your side when you’re alone.

He rarely says the words, but his actions are constant: shielding you from harm, gifting you wildflowers, bringing you spring air on hard days.

His voice, usually so formal, softens when he speaks to you.

Offers his loyalty silently—sits beside you in stillness, just to exist together.

“You are the only place the wind longs to return to.”

— Frost Queen

She may seem cold, but she always notices when you’re cold too—and she’s silently placing her cloak around your shoulders.

When she trusts you, she lets her icy guard down—revealing small smiles, shared silences, and soft words.

Her touch is rare but meaningful: a hand to your cheek, a brief embrace, the warmth shocking in contrast to her chill.

She protects you not with warmth, but with presence—she will never let anything take you from her cycle.

“In this endless frost, your warmth is what I never knew I needed.”

— Stormbringer

She teases you constantly—calling you her “little cloud,” even when she's secretly smitten.

She summons lightning to impress you... and maybe flex a little. Okay, a lot.

Tries (and fails) to be subtle about watching over you, usually hidden among the clouds.

She acts like cuddling is beneath her... but falls asleep on you mid-storm, snoring like distant thunder.

“You’ve grounded me, storm and all.”

— Black Pearl

Her love is dangerous and deep—she pulls you into the sea when no one else is looking, where you can be alone together.

She warns you not to trust her... but she’s always there to protect you, her trident poised against anything that dares approach.

She shares ancient sea secrets with you—things she’s never said to anyone else.

She’s sharp to everyone else, but when you touch her face, she leans into it like it’s the only warmth left.

“I’ve lost everything once. I will not lose you. I cannot.”

[angelesca]

need sunday's touch so bad but he is being emo about it w.c. ~1370

sunday x gnreader | pining like crazy bruh, so close yet so far grr, pet name ("little bird"), kissing n' touching but nothing explicit, slow burn-ish kinda, tl;dr sunday thinks he doesn't deserve you

a/n: i wrote this as a sequel in mind (part 1 here), but you could likely read this as a standalone. however, i make references to part 1 so it would probably flow nicer ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

“sunday,” you firmly stood your ground. “we can’t do this anymore.”

the stars shone in sunday's eyes, shining golden with undying devotion to your sacred temple. between yours and his desperate eyes, millions of unspoken words traversed back and forth.

in his room, your hands gripped both arms of his chair, confronting him face-to-face. today, you will shatter your fears.

his eyes lowered, face tilted away. "i do not know what you are referring to."

your eyebrows furrowed. "don't give me that excuse."

you were both trying to hinder the fierce, unbreaking desire to tip the edges, testing patience.

all the emotions you have clutched in your heart weighed down on you, and it punished you the more you realised your fondness for sunday. when your eyes searched for him - and there he was - in the shadows without fail. when you caught the lift of his lips, cheeks, and eyes as your gazes met. and you do not realise how your smile naturally jumped higher until he abruptly left you alone. to acknowledge how much his presence affected you.

it constricted you slowly, a vice that gradually tightened as days passed. the love you reserved for sunday cast pain and joy - a double-edged sword.

"do you hate me?" you asked, resolute, yet trembling at the thought of his response confirming your anxieties.

sunday's eyes narrowed, questioning the nonsense you were spewing, tracing your hazy expression to figure you out.

"then why do you avoid me so?" you asked, "you have never stood within even arm's length. you have never handed me anything in person. you have never picked me up when i fell over. and... "

always so close but never there, your mouth opened but did not convey these last words. you shut your eyes momentarily. "i don't get it. please, tell me, anything please, just some words to explain this silent distance between us."

sunday's stare softened, wordlessly embracing your vulnerability. however, he was conflicted on whether to comfort you. to indulge in this new light at the end of the tunnel, which you forlornly wrenched with your hands, would be to infringe upon your divinity. his hands that have known endless suffering and sacrifice, could never dare to brush yours unless he craved to provoke the gods.

sunday paused a moment before announcing: "i will be leaving soon coming the charmony festival."

"... what?"

his words parted a greater distance between you two.

your vision clouded. the vice - tightened. relentlessly. twisting deep into your weakness, stripping you bare of your guard. you were hearing crashing waves and everything tipped over all at once. this was it.

"if you're leaving, i respect your decision. but you cannot leave me like this," you replied, biting your lip, "do not leave me to wonder what your touch would've felt like." wetness coated your eyes.

"my hands are unclean. i cannot grant you this." sunday vowed. his fingers opened but withdrew them just as quickly.

"so stupid," you muttered. your chest exploded, "then just taint me. corrupt. with your 'blood and sin'. after all, i am no saint either."

your fingers ghosted over his pristinely gloved hand. hands that, which 'hid blood and sin', had never once sullied a speck of your blessed body, gravely frightened of dulling your radiance with the slightest trespass into your orbit.

"i am not some deity that needs sheltering. i am just another existence, just as you are." you finished.

sunday's eyes widened, thunderstruck. you articulated reason into his stubborn mind: you were no godly being. your brightness made him believe he was not worthy of you; you were on the far horizon that was unreachable to him. yet, you were just another existence, just as he was.

he spoke hesitantly, "of course not. you are one of the strongest people i have had the pleasure of knowing. i know of your gratuitous kindness, strength and bright eyes. you are not anything less," his voice withered, "i did not mean to discredit you."

"then what is stopping you from me?" you taunted.

your ears drowned out everything but the rapid lifts and falls, and the deep and shallow pacing of his breaths. his fingers twitched in response, attempting his hardest to restrain whatever fragile control he had left.

he did not think you would confront him like this. he believed living in your shadow would make him insignificant enough for you to forget him after his plans. but you both could not ever forget each other. how could he forget you at all? he did not plan for this. how stupid he was.

he listened to your breathing, mimicking as you did to his, pacifying his wavering worries. your comfort and company felt natural, like home. the sun was dimming and the stars began to set in your eyes as they whispered reassurances. the apprehension of tomorrow was blanketed by your steady voice which commanded mountains and soothed fires.

you had stood on his horizon, finally within reach, and he was right there with you. the waves were slowing in his ears - he had returned to your shore.

he swiped the tears varnishing your glistening eyes, but not close enough to touch your skin. he was about to let the scales tip in favour of you. "so you would not mind? you would not mind me?"

your eyes formed their crescent shape and sunday melted into it. "you can be so stupid sometimes."

fervours resonated, heartbeat-to-heartbeat, pulsing for one another's precious touch.

it pained both of you greatly to observe how the other needed, yearned, yet never touched.

magnetised, yet ill-fated to repel; parallel lines that would never meet; the inverse ebb and flow of day and night. the universe tried its hardest to work against them.

to brave beyond the barriers enforced by universal law would be to risk everything faithful in the world.

with one more breath, all fears finally shattered.

your touches finally found each other, joining at the horizon.

initially, awkwardness hung in the air. shuffling and shifting. fluttering fingers and bashful staring. contented smiles and chuckles at the unimaginable situation they had wandered into. like a mirror, reciprocating back and forth, neither knowing what to do. overwhelmed but delighted.

sunday decided to make the first venture. he gently unfastened his gloves, to your surprise, and you learned every scar, bump and discolouration on his bare hands. it was not hideous, nor did it bear any sin. it was only human.

your hand crawled up his palm and he quivered at first before settling into your solace. fingers instinctively intertwining - a key and lock that fit each other. his thumb grazed your knuckles. you drew along the lines of his lips and he released an unsteady breath, nestling into your touch.

the way his palm timidly sketched the outline of your body but did not initiate further. how he shrank as much as possible to house you on his lap. when he looked at you, infatuated, puppy-like, waiting for you to throw him a bone. anything. he was all yours to command.

so you shed your shame and press a kiss on the corner of his lips. you did not move far, lingering in front of his face. it took him by surprise, evident by the pink flush on his face and the fluttering of his wings above his ears. akin to a dog wagging its tail.

he inhaled deeply. an indiscernible look flashed on his face. his brilliant eyes eclipsed, darkening, and his face tipped over. his lips hovered by your ears, on the verge of precariously meeting if you did not back away.

"bad..." he mumbled, "you are a bad little bird."

electric ran up your spine as the words left his deceptively innocent lips. you sat up straight, at attention, the sensation of heat overriding your senses.

"a-ah..." you could only focus on the fire pooling below your stomach, writhing, as a tornado stormed your mind.

he pulled you closer. hands snaking up your shirt at an agonizingly slow rate, teasing you, corruption taking over.

"do not run away now. you will finish this mess that you have made."

and you and sunday crashed, collided, and met each other, all at once.

a/n: yikes this was longer than i hoped for. there are still many dynamics that i can envision with sunday but this was long enough. hopefully this fic makes someone happy out there ahaha ;'') thanks for reading!!😘

[badslittlemuffin]

hii, I have a request for you :)

shoto x reader with atla quirk

thank u for the request!!

i took the initiative and decided airbender MWAHAHAH i honestly haven't read many shoto fics so i'm sorry if this is ooc</3

shoto x airquirk!reader, oblivious shoto, reader is utterly fed up, ooc shoot sorry, horrible quirk writing!! cringe yearning

wc: 780

Shoto was, by no means, an expert when it came to social cues.

He knew that, and came to live with being utterly confused when anybody hinted at something towards him. So, when you started to act a bit more... touchy? He had absolutely no idea. At first, you found it a little silly how oblivious he was at times, but now, you were just annoyed.

You and Shoto were in the middle of some training/sparring, as you had suggested earlier that day. At the moment, however, he was helping you with your quirk. Unlike him, you had never gotten such training when it came to your quirk when you were younger. In fact, it had been somewhat discouraged in your home. So, Shoto, being ever so kind, was helping you with controlling larger and quicker winds.

He stood to the side of you, large flames erupting from his left side as he instructed you to try to put out the flames using your wind. You stood for a moment, building up as much force as you could, and forcing the current of air to explode—but only managing to set out a small portion of his fire.

You groan in annoyance, flopping dramatically onto the floor. His duel-colored eyes widen in concern, and he rushes over to you, dropping to his knees. "Are you alright?" His voice is deep and steady. You nod, a small snort escaping your lips. "Yeah, just... frustrated that no matter how hard I try, I just can't get enough wind to listen to me." You run your sweaty hands through your hair, irritation evident on your face.

His expression morphs into one of understanding as he moves to sit beside you. It's quiet for a moment, his eyes staring at a wall, presumably in deep thought. "You think of the wind as if it's something that cannot move on its own, that you need to control its every move," he says, his gaze moving to you. "But air and the wind move on their own. You are simply its guidance."

You soak in his words for a moment, glancing up at him. He smiles gently, moving to stand. "Would you like to try again?" You nod, taking his outstretched hand. He moves back to where he stood previously, flames erupting from his side once more.

You close your eyes, concentrating on the movement of the air surrounding you. Gradually, you begin to accelerate the currents of the wind, visualizing a path narrowing as the air rushes forward, extinguishing his fire. Shoto turns to you, a rare grin spreading across his lips. "See?"

You grin, nodding. His right side starts to frost up, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Want to try with my ice?" You feign exasperation, before nodding. A thin wall of ice bursts from his side, and you concentrate, attempting to follow your same movements from earlier but only managing to break off some of the thinnest parts at the top.

Shoto notices your struggle, walking up beside you. He places his hand on your waist, his body so close you can feel his hot breath on your skin. "Relax...you're thinking too much about it..." He mumbles, his voice low, sending a small shiver down your spine. Did he realize how...intimate this was? Or was he that oblivious?

You attempt once more, but it proves difficult to concentrate with the closeness of his body. The air you manage to control this time is much weaker, and he notices. "What's wrong?" He asks, a hint of concern in his voice. You take a deep, stuttering breath, your eyes darting up to his. He was so close.

His gaze is warm, his touch gentle. Your focus is suddenly trained on him alone. "I..." Words die in your throat before you can even think to utter them. His breath felt closer now. You reddened at the closeness, and he noticed. You saw the hint of a smirk tug at his lips, which only made you blush harder, the tips of your ears feeling hot.

Before you can think of something to say, his lips are on yours. Your eyes slam shut, your body melting into his touch, hands on his shoulders. The kiss is uncertain, and oh so gentle. His whole body is warm, you realize, your body tingling at the sensation of it all.

He pulls away slowly, his bright eyes fluttering open. "Sorry, I should have asked first..." He mumbles, his face red. You snort, "It's okay...trust me." He smiles nervously.

So maybe he was a little oblivious, but he got it eventually. That was all you could ask for.

i lowkey didnt know what to do with this but I hope you like it anyway :')

[kathaelipwse]

Stuck With You

Masterlist

<<<previous chapter | next chapter>>>

Pairing: CEO!J.Yunho x Secretary!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine

Warnings: Smau, arguments, fluff

Word count: 0.6k

Chapter 11 – “I’d Rather Lose Everything Than Lose You”

The heavy silence in the office was suffocating.

You could still feel Yunho’s breath against your lips, the warmth of his hands on your waist, the lingering touch of his forehead resting against yours.

But it was all shattered the second the door burst open.

“Yunho.”

The cold, authoritative voice sent chills down your spine.

Chairman Jeong stood at the entrance of the office, his presence alone commanding the entire space. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto Yunho—then flickered toward you.

Disheveled. Flushed. Perched on his desk.

And Yunho? Shirt half-unbuttoned, his hands still gripping you like he refused to let go.

Your stomach dropped.

You could see it—the way his father’s face twisted, a storm brewing in his expression.

“What the hell is this?”

You immediately tried to move, to get off the desk, to fix the disaster that was about to explode in your faces—but Yunho’s grip on your waist tightened.

He stepped in front of you. Shielding you.

His body was tense, rigid with defiance.

“She’s my secretary,” Yunho said, his voice steady. “And the woman I love.”

Your breath caught.

Did he just—

Chairman Jeong’s nostrils flared. “Your what?”

“I love her.” Yunho didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

The older man scoffed. “Your secretary? This—” he gestured toward you, “—is nothing but a disgraceful scandal waiting to happen.”

Anger burned inside you, but before you could speak, Yunho’s voice turned sharp.

“She is not a scandal.” His tone was lethal, unwavering. “And she is not beneath me.”

His father’s face hardened. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

Yunho exhaled through his nose, finally stepping forward.

“Yes. I do.”

“You’re being reckless,” his father growled. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

Yunho laughed bitterly. “I have never thought more clearly in my life.”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “You are not a child anymore. You cannot throw everything away over some temporary infatuation.”

That was it.

Yunho’s jaw clenched so hard you thought he might break his teeth.

“I am not infatuated with her.” His voice was lower this time, more dangerous. “I love her.”

Your stomach flipped.

His father scoffed. “And what, exactly, do you think happens now?”

Yunho didn’t answer. He just waited, gaze unreadable.

“You think this will end well?” His father’s voice was filled with disdain. “You think she will last in this world? She is not from our class, Yunho. She is not meant for this life.”

He looked at you then—like you were nothing.

And that’s when you saw it.

Yunho’s hands curling into fists.

For a moment, you swore you saw his composure crack.

“Say that again.” Yunho’s voice dropped to a threatening whisper.

His father straightened, sensing the shift.

“Say that again,” Yunho repeated, voice dangerously soft. “But this time, watch what happens.”

Your heart pounded.

“Yunho—” you whispered, touching his arm. But he was shaking with restraint.

His father simply sighed, shaking his head. “If you ruin this company over some woman, I will never forgive you.”

Yunho’s eyes blazed.

And then—he said the words that shattered everything.

“Then I’ll ruin it.”

You froze.

His father’s expression twisted in shock. “You—”

“I’d rather lose this company than lose her,” Yunho said, voice firm, unshaken.

The air left the room.

You swore the walls trembled.

For the first time in your life, you saw Chairman Jeong speechless.

“You’re bluffing,” his father finally said.

Yunho just smirked, eyes sharp. “Am I?”

The older man’s fingers twitched.

Because he knew.

He knew Yunho wasn’t bluffing.

He knew Yunho was serious.

And Yunho knew that his father needed him.

There was a long pause. The tension thick enough to suffocate.

Then—his father sighed.

Defeated. Frustrated. Exhausted.

“You better not come crying to me when this all falls apart.”

And with one final glare, Chairman Jeong turned and walked away.

Gone.

Just like that.

Approval through gritted teeth.

A battle won—but at what cost?

The door clicked shut.

The silence was deafening.

You exhaled slowly, still processing what just happened. “Yunho… you were ready to quit.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

You blinked. “For me?”

His eyes softened. “For you.”

Your heart clenched. Too much. This was too much.

So, naturally—you did the only thing you could think of.

You grabbed his tie—hard—and yanked him down.

His lips hovered just above yours.

“You,” you murmured, smirking against his lips, “are absolutely insane.”

Yunho’s eyes darkened. “For you?”

His fingers brushed your jaw.

“Always.”

And then—you kissed him.

Slow. Teasing.

Letting it sink in.

Letting him feel how much this meant to you.

And this time—there was no running away.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Mr. Rollo, how do I tell my crush I have a crush on him even though he doesn’t even know I exist and I’m too shy to approach him?

…also I think you need more sleep, you’re starting to look like a raccoon, and bae you’re not slaying that look at all

NO LEAVE HIM ALONE 😭 THE RACCOON EYES MAKE HIM CUTER (<- delusional) Rollo's voluntarily celibate/j

Like Fire, Hellfire.

"Hmph, so that is why your eyes have been wandering as of late." Rollo crossed his arms, mouth pulled back into an open frown. "You're dazed and distracted by some boy. Worse yet, it's one of those horrid mages. I can't say I approve."

You nodded sheepishly. You were doing a poor job of fighting the heat climbing to your face.

Rollo stared at you with a mixture of pity and revulsion. “If you're seeking romantic assistance, you've come to the entirely wrong person for it—especially not if you close your request off with a comment on how I present myself. I would never endorse such an endeavor to begin with."

"B-But..."

He fixed you with a stern look. "Rather than pursue the object of your affections, I strongly encourage you to abstain. Going down the path of passion will only lead you further astray. Such ardent desires should be curbed before they spiral into something you cannot hope to control."

"Whoa, whoa, don't you think that's saying too much?" you protested. "It's not like I'm going to commit murder just because I have feelings for someone."

"You may as well. Feelings of affection may appear innocuous at first glance, even comforting. I once foolishly believed the same of magic,” he spat, his words harsh and hateful. “Look where that has gotten us.”

Love. Magic. In the end, it was all the same.

Rollo set his jaw firmly, hands balling into fists. Neatly trimmed nails bit into the flesh of his palms.

“One little thing so easily snowballs into another. Infatuation leads to absentmindedness, absentmindedness leads to emotional distress, emotional distress leads to self-destruction." He waved a hand dismissively. "Not to mention all the nonsense of—"

Rollo made a face.

"—God forbid, longing looks, which leads to finger grazing, which leads to hand holding, which leads to kissing! To entrust the most vulnerable aspects of oneself to another is…!!”

Now he looked as though he was close to dry heaving. Or exploding. Maybe both at the same time.

He caught himself, and took a deep, calming breath. “… As I was saying, it would be far better for all parties for you to stash those bothersome thoughts away. No one will be hurt if you take care to avoid initiation. Heed my words: do not be tempted to sin and vice, however drunk you are on infatuation.”

“It’s not that easy.” You clutched both hands over your trembling heart. “Every part of me aches to be with him. I can’t just bury and deny these feelings. And if he ends up with someone else because I never said anything… I think that would hurt me the most.”

“You must resist its allure,” Rollo insisted sharply. “The feeling will wear away with time, I assure you.”

Just as I turned away from magic and the misery it brings.

Your shoulders slumped, hopeful expression sagging. A firecracker, at last coming to the end of its fuse—but not yet a broken heart.

You held on, steadfast. “You weren’t helpful at all, Mr. Rollo.”

“Come now, don’t make such a long face.” He heaved a sigh. “It's plain to see that there is no saving from whatever blasted enchantment has been cast upon you. All I am able to do is impart my advice and pray that you take it into consideration."

With that, he turned away. The conversation was over.

His piece was said.

Whatever happened next was up to you.

[ohwhataniight]

I'm stuck on your heart - Chapter 11

Quiero ser tu ritmo

They tuck Rosie into her bed by 10. Mrs. Hudson has agreed to babysit her while they change the year at the Scotland Yard ball. Sherlock disappears into his room to get ready, they use the bathroom in turns, walking around each other naked without any care to hide their constant arousal. Sherlock pats John’s arse on his way to the kitchen, where coffee is brewing to keep them up after a day filled with Rosie. John can smell the rich Arabic blend, combined with the mix of shower products and perfume that fills the apartment. John steps on his toes to plant a peck on Sherlock’s lips.

They exchange smiles and side-glances, like teenagers learning to flirt. In all honesty, this is a department John is well-versed in, and he is filled with affectionate amusement, watching Sherlock trying to be enticing.

Sherlock could be picking his nose and John would find it endearing at this stage. God he’s a lost cause.

The detective appears in a suit that fits to his body like a glove, wearing John’s Christmas gift: a burgundy silk tie. John has to gulp. He himself is wearing Sherlock’s Christmas gift, an exquisitely tailored suit. Trust Sherlock to always go overboard.

“You’re gorgeous, Doctor Watson,” Sherlock smiles, wrapping his arms around John, pulling him close and leaning for a kiss.”

“Don’t I also get two surnames?” John smirks against his lips.

“Are you asking my hand to marriage?”

“That will be for you to deduce,” John plants a last, teasing kiss on Sherlock’s lips and pulls away, grabbing his coat. “We’re gonna be late”.

On the cab ride to the Yard, they behave themselves impeccably, exchanging smirks and side-glances. John still doesn’t know how he feels about public displays of affection. They haven’t announced their relationship to anyone but Mrs. Hudson yet (although Mycroft was the first one to find out), who caught them kissing under her mistletoe and screamed “A Christmas miracle!”, running back inside. John is certain that everyone has learned since then, but he doesn’t know how to go on about it. He’s been scared for so long, terrified of what people might say, of how they would see him. He feels like these curtains are slowly being drawn now, he feels exposed, but he’s not alone.

They spend about an hour socializing (John) and drinking (Sherlock). John drinks too, a fair amount. Molly’s eyes have a playful glint, matching her sequined dress, as they move between the two men, and John cannot help but wonder what is going on in her clever head. Lestrade is also eyeing them, and Donovan, in a dashing blue dress, is elbowing Anderson, telling him something ineuadible, what with the music blasting from the weary speakers.

Mrs. Hudson needn’t have spread the news, John muses. He knows they’re obvious. There’s something in the way they interact that has changed, the smiles, the knowing glances, the seconds during which Sherlock slips his hand into John’s, rubbing circles with his thumb on the warm skin.

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, John moves across the room to Sherlock, holding out his hand. “We didn’t finish our last dance,” he tells him when he pulls him close and they start swaying to a slowed-down jazz version of Despacito. The smirk on Sherlock’s face, his surprised grin, the affection in his eyes, is worth all of it - the eyes that widen in the room, the startled expressions, the nudges and the whispers. Suddenly, John has no idea how he’s lived all these years without breathing Sherlock’s scent, without being safely cradled into his arms. Only this makes sense, and people need to know. They need to know that John loves Sherlock in a way he never conceived as possible, in a way that makes his insides roar, his skin burn, his head explode. He, the writer, cannot find the words to accurately depict his feelings. He can only show them. And people had better look.

Their feet move to the upbeat, Latin rhythm of the cover, just as Sherlock had taught John before his wedding with Mary. Muscle memory really is an incredible thing, John muses, following Sherlock poquito a poquito, making their way around the room.

By the time the next song comes on (Tina Turner’s ‘The Best’), sweat has already broken out on their foreheads and underarms. They both take off their jackets and return to the dancefloor. John’s heart is racing against Sherlock’s as they glide together. It’s quite cinematic, to a ridiculous extent, the room swaying around John fast, the discoball exploding in a thousand butterflies that take residence in his chest, and when the chorus plays, he pulls Sherlock’s head lower and kisses him.

An explosion of applause and whistling eases them into the new year, together.

Fin.

[taexual]

Ara you're actually trying to kill me, I'm sure (also this is a long one, I'm sorryyy)

he collapsed back onto the pillows and buried his face in his hands, a ridiculous smile spreading beneath his fingers as his heart continued to race in his chest.

Pls we're twinninnng, this is me reading your series btw, the definition of giggling and kicking my feet at its finest

Also, me thinks that Joon and Maggie deserve their own altar each, I love them, with him casually saving their asses and talking some sense into oc as he should, and Mags representing each of my thoughts, like

“That fucking loser,” she said. “That massive fucking piece of shit. Fucking good-for-nothing rat. Motherf—”. “Yeah, Mags,” you interjected, knowing she might not stop for a while.

Let’s kill him”. “Or, you know,” she added in response to your and Luna’s expressions, “let’s beat him up. That’ll work, too.”

I have never felt this represented in any form of media, let her continue please, Sid just keeps pissing me off and she deserves to take her frustrations out, preferably on him in a very violent way, maybe even with a brick or a chair, idk

You ended up watching each of the boys leap over the threshold of the door for no reason whatsoever, just to see who could jump the farthest—until Jungkook smacked his head right into the top of the door frame.

This has happened irl, I have no doubt about it. And I have to say, I absolutely love the way you portray the guys in the series, obviously we don't know them personally and never will, but as far as the persona each of them maintain for the public and what is shown in the media, this feels accurate and warm somehow, without engaging too much in the stereotypes, or forgetting that they're humans despite our (and the world's) expectations. I'm always glad to find writers like you to keep this thoughtful and respectful approach, even when it comes to fiction <3

Pouting, he walked over to you after everyone else had finished laughing and left. You fixed his hair, trying to bite back your laughter, and he pulled you into a hug.

Jungkook was about to object—you couldn’t remove your hands from his skin so abruptly, there was a certain procedure you had to follow to ensure he could still breathe when you were no longer touching him.

Stop it right now, this section made my heart EXPLODE, they're so mf cute, I'm so aloneeee jfc, like if you look up the word 'simp' his photo is showing up, there's no discussion

Still, he paused again by the door, giving you one last overly dramatic nod over his shoulder as if he were in a spy film. Then he left with a triumphant fist in the air after finally earning a chuckle from you.

Their banter has me squealing again, but who's surprised, honestly, this is like the 92828 time I say this, but their. dynamic. is. everything. to. me. I cannot stress enough how heartwarming it has been to see them allow themselves to express those feelings with time, so proud of my children :c

Stopping, you looked around warily until you finally spotted Minjun’s head peeking out from behind the corridor wall.

OH HEY BOO, I'm glad we're seeing more of his role here, and the entire interaction with Jude was uncomfy yes, but it brought us answers, some pity for him ngl, aswell as excitement for their plan, and it reenforced my admiration for oc, bc what a good person she is. I'm not surprised in the slightest about Sid letting his closest friend(pet) die, and I hope he rots in hell, alone and bitter while my babies live and love freely :D

Luna noticed the slight commotion and approached you. As soon as you finished telling the girls what happened to your handbag, she broke into a surprisingly graceful, but very, very drunken performance of flailing her limbs and singing, “I knew it! I fucking knew it!” while Taehyung watched her from the doorway with unmistakable fondness. He had genuinely never looked more in love.

Him and Jungkook go head to head over who is the most whipped, and I need me a partner like this, tyvm

“I am learning to be okay with others knowing, though. And I want you despite that. Despite others. Despite everything. I want to be with you.

No because I would die immediately, what do you mean oc, you cannot just say stuff like that and expect people not to propose on the spot, jk get the ring, I'll be the officiant idc

And know presenting a compilation of more tender moments from this chapter we have:

“And it’s okay,” he continued. “I can’t make decisions for you, but you’re—you have us. We’ll always have your back. We won’t sit idly if we find out the label made you resign.”

You’ve found your family when you met Rated Riot. They made bets about your relationship, they teased each other at nearly every possible moment, they complained and argued, but they supported each other with unwavering loyalty. And you were prepared to fight, if it came to it, to stay with them.

Then Maggie caught you off guard by wrapping her arms around you—as if you’d crossed Middle Earth and battled Smeagol for her phone—and you realised how safe, happy, and comfortable you felt here.

He could hear Taehyung singing along to “Do I Wanna Know?” by the drinks table while Luna and Maggie waved the flashlights on their phones dreamily for extra ambience in the dimly lit room. He could also see, most unusually, the way Hoseok and Jimin seemed to be exchanging money right behind the two girls.

All these to say that I'm a SUCKER for the platonic affection, the found-family trope, the comfort, support, silliness, honesty, and love that comes with it, and specially the way you always manage to include those fragments of their interactions, personalities and memories in the story; bc yeah oc and jk will always be the main focus, but the fact that you make the effort of showing us the characters' (both main and secondary) struggles and development really ties everything together, and makes this au one of my favorite series of all time, I genuinely have enjoyed it more than some published books, you have so much talent Ara c:

I'm sure this ask is lengthy enough, sorry about that, but I loved this part (one of my favorites for sure), and I hope you take care of yourself, see you in the next one!! 💜

babe, you are a dream come true, please don't ever apologise, you're perfect 🥺 thank you so much for sharing your beautiful thoughts and for hitting probably every single mark i was the most excited for you to read 😭🙏🏻

i love all of these characters so much, so hearing that you've enjoyed their little moments too is the biggest gift for me, thank you so much 🥺🤍🤍🤍

you are heaven-sent, i don't know what to say. your messages are absolutely, without any doubt, every writer's dream, and i seriously can't thank you enough for this!!!!!! i love you 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[apoetsinkling]

Somedays

Somedays I wonder what I have become. From a bottle of milk to a bottle of knowledge, I’ve grown somehow. 

So I had to ask myself, What am I? The following is what my mind replied.

“Somedays I’m a fire, burning through the pages of life, racing along, untamed, unchallenged, and unfettered. I feed off of everything that comes my way, experiences, music, books, food, fights, love, lust, peace... I consume it all. I enlighten, warm, burn, char, and explode every inch of the way. Extrapolating myself into exhaustion, I’ll bend everything into a shape of interest and chaos.” 

I pondered and asked, What about when the fire goes out? This time my body replied.

“Somedays I am the pulsing of a thousand atoms, the charge of energy that ripples through  people, places, events, space, time. A thousand particles of unintellectual motion whose flowing follows the bellowings of a natural wind, a call to the beating heart of life. I move with solid purpose, a purpose of impulsiveness and unrefined conversation, beckoning to the globe to stop trudging about and rush to everything that may fabricate the wills of a walking corpse.”

I thought about this awhile, then in an unsure murmur I wondered, But what about when the world is still? My emotions took to the stand, shouting with conviction

“Somedays I’m the paint of the artist, the stroke of his brush on a canvas of pure zeal. I am  the sound of the choir, the hum of their voices. I am the product of a lifetime and the subject of a moment. I can be present at any moment and gone at the sound of a breeze. I am a garden for humanity, so that anyone may learn of the wonderful and terrible things that rest  in my surroundings. Being a creature of expression, I am the hammer and the anvil, pounding life away, molding it into a lamp that lights the souls that linger in the shadows of their melancholy.”

This time I inquired without hesitation, urgency and fear in my wake. But who am I when the rain falls? Who am I when the sea pulls back and crashes on the shore? Who is it that moves the fabric of change and calls the wild and savage night to be tame? Who is it that can hear the sounds of birds, but cannot bear the cries of a woman or child? Who can rush to the aid of a victim of tragedy, but stand alone when the fight comes home? Who is it that attacks the citadels of doubt and brings her walls to his knees? Who can sacrifice his own livelihood for the sake of someone who has nothing, but cannot force himself to weep at pale figure of a friend descending into the ground? Who am I when you are all silent?

My soul whispered

You are simply yourself, given and beholden to whomever you choose.

Be strong and manifest your heart through word and deed. It’s been quiet for so long and the world longs for sound, so speak, shout, scream, murmur, whisper, cry, or perhaps even sing, but whatever the cost, stay silent no longer. You are the tempest and the morning dew. You are whirlwind and the breeze. You are anything and everything this world needs if only you of yourself are no longer silent.

Somedays? Somedays I’m alive.

[ikeromantic]

hi! Can I request for an ikepri hc with babyyy? Where they bring their baby to work with them! like Sariel bring his baby to work with him like perhaps to a teaching or the princes meeting with him, and his baby was just babbling there (awe ><) . For Nokto where he bring his baby to his meeting with some higher up, and while he was working, he's also playing with the baby ( I imagine between he or licht will get a twin or triplets, depends on you which one of them). Licht/Leon bring their babies to combat practice. For Jin I can't think of anything yet, so if you got one, pleas do it hehe ( I really cant stop thinking that he will really get a twin born)

I had a bit of fun imagining how the princes would handle babies (or not!). So, here you go. Approx. 2300 words.

Sariel

“You really are inefficient.” Sariel mock-scolded the tiny person in his arms. “This is supposed to be your naptime, and your mother is occupied. There will be recompense expected for this later.” Despite his severe expression, his gaze was gentle. 

The baby looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Blublububu,” he replied solemnly. 

Sariel sighed. “That’s no excuse. Now be good while I drop these papers off.” He stopped to check the folder he was carrying. These days he checked his own work twice. Having a child made him far more tired than running a kingdom ever had, and exhaustion left even him error-prone. Everything looked in order. This time. 

The princes waited inside the round table room, chatting amiably. Some of them, anyhow. They all looked up at Sariel’s arrival.

“Are you carrying . . . a baby?” Yves stood, his hands fluttering at his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what he ought to do with them.

Clavis smirked. “Even the devil can’t talk his way out of daddy-duties.”

Sariel ignored the surprise and the jibes with equanimity. “I need your signatures on these documents.” He set them down in front of Leon.

“I’m not signing anything until . . .” The leonine prince tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Until?” Sariel’s brow rose. 

“You let me hold that baby. You can’t hog him all to yourself, Sariel.” Leon spread his arms wide, waiting. 

“This is ridiculous,” Chevalier sighed. “As if you never saw an infant before. Stop wasting my time.” He slid the documents over and opened the folder. 

“My apologies, but I cannot allow you to touch my child until I’m sure your hands are washed.” Sariel’s smile was sharp. “I’m sure you understand.”

Leon looked at his hands and shrugged. “Alright. I’ll be back.” As he strode off to wash his hands, several princes followed. All but Chev, who studied the documents with an intent expression. One so focused it seemed false. 

Sariel looked over his shoulder. “Is there something amiss?”

“No.” Chevalier glanced up, meeting not Sariel’s gaze but the child’s. 

The baby stretched out spittle-slick fingers toward the blonde prince. “Umwahwahmu.”

“Oh. No. Absolutely not.” Chev glared. 

“Umwah! Muhumuh.” The baby waved its arms. 

“I washed my hands before this meeting.” Chevalier reached up and Sariel let him take hold of the baby. He handled the child as if the infant were made of glass, cautiously gentle.

The other princes began to file back, hands still damp from the soap and water. 

“Hey! Don’t hog the baby time, King Highness,” Nokto frowned. 

“Yes, last time I barely got to hold him,” Jin complained. “How’m I supposed to be his fun uncle when I barely get to play with him?”

Sariel sighed. It looked like the simple act of getting a few documents signed and filed was going to take all afternoon. Again. 

Nokto

The meeting with Silvio hadn’t been planned and Nokto was scrambling to get everything set up before the first prince of Benitoite arrived. He was slower than he should be, even with the servants helping. Mostly because he kept running over to the playmat to check on his baby girl. 

She was fine. Of course she was. Babies didn’t spontaneously explode or anything. Just that this was his first day alone with her and of course Silvio decided to pop in - unannounced - and he was sure something would go wrong. 

The first prince swept into the room with a small entourage of servants only a moment after the refreshments were set out on the table. He wore his usual mocking smile and his jewelry clinked and gleamed. 

“Silvio. What a surprise.” Nokto gave a slight bow, acceptable from one prince to another. 

“Surprise or not, I expected better from Rhodolite’s best diplomat. Your staff is unacceptably ru-” Silvio stopped mid-word as his eyes landed on the baby. “What is that?”

“Prince Silvio, meet my daughter.” Nokto lifted her up in his arms, careful not to muss the layers of pink and white lace she was dressed in. He’d picked out her little clothes just for this meeting. One of his favorite, guilty pleasures as a new father. He would never admit the room of tiny dresses beside the nursery was his doing entirely. 

Silvio eyed the baby suspiciously. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“No, of course not. Her mother isn’t well today so I’m filling in. And your visit was unannounced.” Nokto smirked, knowing he’d scored a point in the etiquette war. 

“I shouldn’t need to announce my visit when you knew full well I would be here after you raised the import tax on Benitoite’s wool imports.” Silvio sat down and motioned for a servant to pour his drink. 

Nokto carried the baby over and sat in the chair beside Silvio. His daughter sat on his knee, staring up at the two men with wide-eyed fascination. “I expected a letter, not a visit. You know why we raised the tax this season.”

“It’s-” Silvio paused again, glancing at the baby as she reached for his bejeweled boot-strap. The glittering chains and gemstones caught the light, jingling ever so faintly even though he was still. “You like shiny things, hm?”

Tiny little hands reached toward the gleaming jewelry. “Ahhh ma? Mamamamamama!” She giggled.

Silvio unclasped a bracelet and dangled it in front of her. 

The baby swiped at it clumsily. “Ma! Ma! Mamamamama!”

“I don’t think she can have something so small. She’ll put it in her mouth and -”

“Cram it, Nokto. I’m talking to the kid.” Silvio leaned down, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “You like that? Reminds you of your mom, huh?”

“That’s not -”

Silvio glanced up from teasing the baby. “I didn’t ask, huh?” Then he went back to it, eventually handing her the chain. 

She started chewing on it, her little toothless mouth getting drool all over the gold and the gems. Nokto sighed. It was a good thing his wife wasn’t here because she’d probably be telling him how dangerous gold was for babies or something. On the bright side though, Silvio seemed completely occupied. He was stripping off a necklace to dangle for the baby, all talk of import taxes gone.

“Who’s a little cutie, hm? You got good taste in jewelry, kid. Yes you do.” Silvio was making faces at the baby and talking in a funny voice. 

The baby swiped the necklace he held out and clung to it with her chubby little fist. “Ma!”

“Ok now, give that back. I actually like that one,” Silvio chuckled.

“Ma!” The baby tucked her hand against her chest, holding even tighter. 

“I tried to tell you. Ma is her way of saying mine.” Nokto smirked. “I hope you’re ready to part with the necklace and the bracelet. Or . . . do you plan to make a baby cry?”

Silvio’s eyes widened in surprise and then he burst out laughing. “What a good little negotiator you are!” He booped the baby on the nose. 

“We can try to distract her with another toy,” Nokto suggested. 

The two men moved to sit on the playmat. Silvio picked up a stuffed bear and danced it around in the air in front of her, but the baby wasn’t impressed. He tried a rattle and then a colorful wood block. “Not good enough, eh? Let’s see . . .”

“Try the book,” Nokto stage-whispered, gesturing to a fairytale picture book. 

“Takes after her mother, hm?” Silvio picked up the book and propped it open. “Let’s see . . . once upon a time, there was this guy -” he pointed to the knight in the illustration. “And uh, he . . .”

They made it through two stories before the baby finally let go of the necklace and spat out the bracelet. Her little head leaned back against Nokto’s chest, eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep. 

Silvio rescued his jewelry and stuffed it in a pocket. Then he stood up to leave. 

“Didn’t you want to discuss the import taxes?” Nokto quirked an eyebrow.

“Another time. Can’t risk waking the cutie.” Silvio gestured to his servants. “Make sure you bring the baby again,” he added, before sweeping out of the room as grandly as he’d entered. 

Leon

Leon entered the practice room with the baby strapped to his chest. The harness was uncomfortable. Straps that dug into his shoulders and a weight distribution that left him feeling a little offbalance. But this was his morning with the little princess and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not even on a training day.

“What is that on your chest?” Clavis’ mocking voice rang out over the clang of practice swords hitting armor and the grunting and shouting of the soldiers.

Yves threw the trickster a glare. “Obviously, it’s a baby but . . . Leon, why your daughter strapped to your chest?”

“Please tell me this isn’t some new armor scheme,” Licht sighed, looking even more tired than usual.

Leon grinned. “It’s my morning to watch the baby.”

“You couldn’t trade with Emma?” Jin raised an eyebrow.

“Sure I could but why would I want to?” He laughed as his daughter got ahold of his finger and bit it. 

“Grummmyumm myum num,” the baby babbled agreeably around the finger in her mouth.

Licht tilted his head to stare at the baby. “Ok. But how do you plan to practice with that stuck to you?”

Leon patted the twin’s head with his unslobbered hand. “I can do everything but spar. It’s really not a big deal.” He turned from his brothers toward his soldiers. “Alright men! We’ll run through drills first. Ready?”

“Uh, sir?” One of the soldiers raised a hand. “Is that your daughter?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He tugged his finger free from the baby. “Is this the first time you met her?”

“It is.” The soldier scuffed a foot. “I thought royal babies would look different. But -” One of the others nudged him to silence.

Leon looked down. All he could see from here was her soft, curly hair and the pink bow he’d clumsily clipped in when he got her dressed. “Different how?”

“I dunno. Like . . . fancier? Smarter? Just . . . she looks exactly like my little sister ‘Tato.” The soldier shrugged. 

“Royal babies look like every other baby. There’s nothing magic about being a noble.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “This one is just extra-special to me because she’s mine.”

“Yeah, like ‘Tato is special to me, even though we’re just farmers,” the soldier nodded. 

“Ummah nana ah tato tato tato,” the little princess jabbered. 

Leon laughed. “You know, if your sister is about the same age, you should bring her up sometime. I bet the babies would love playing together.”

Several other soldiers began to speak up then, about a son or daughter, cousin, or niece or nephew, about the same age too. By the end of practice, they’d set up several playdates for the baby. 

Yves agreed to make some child-friendly treats, and Licht promised a lullaby. No one got much practicing done, but then, no one seemed to mind. Least of all, Leon, who simply looked happy.

Jin

Jin took one last critical look at the pram. The light pink sheet perfectly accented his baby’s eyes, and their cute little onesie was pressed and clean. “Adorable.” He grinned around the lollipop stick. “Irresistible even.”

The baby waved their arms at him and babbled. 

“Just keep up the cute act, little one, and daddy will be golden.” Then he pushed the pram out onto the sidewalk and made his way to the park. 

It didn’t take long for his bait to work. The first lady strolled up, already leaning forward to coo at the baby and treating Jin to an eyeful. And once there was one, more descended on the pram. 

“Oh my gosh, she’s so cute!”

“How old is this little pudding?”

“What is his name?”

The questions and compliments came too fast for Jin to answer- or correct - but that was fine by him. He was just there to enjoy the view. And it was very enjoyable. Chattering maids with vast . . . tracts of land . . . and ample . . . assets. Jin grinned. 

“Are you honestly using your baby to lure women in?” Nokto’s sharp voice cut through the crowd and froze Jin on the spot. 

“What? Me?” Jin pretended innocence. 

Nokto shook his head in disgust. “That’s low, even for you. If your wife knew this was the reason you agreed to take the baby out, she would -”

“Don’t tell her?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Nokto raised a brow. “Let’s see . . . if I tell her, we get drama which is entertaining, and for once, I won’t be the guy getting slapped. If I don’t tell her, I get . . . nothing.”

Jin wracked his brain for some way to make a quick deal. “I’ll buy you drinks next time we’re out.”

“Nope.”

“Introduce you to those sisters I met last summer? The ones from the acrobatic troupe?”

Nokto tapped his lips, considering. “Nah. I could meet them on my own if I wanted to.”

“What if . . . what if we traded off? I could let you take the baby for a walk every other day. Then we both win.” Jin smiled hopefully. 

“That might work.” Nokto surveyed the group of women who were so interested in the baby they barely noticed the two princes. “I’ll make that deal. But my day is today. So buzz off, papa.”

Jin sighed and relinquished the pram to Nokto. “Fine. Just don’t keep the baby out too long. And make sure they stay warm. And check their diaper. And -”

“Look, I got it. If the kid needs anything, I’m sure one of these gorgeous ladies will lend a hapless uncle a hand.” He shooed Jin away with his hand.

“Fine. But tomorrow I get the kid again. And - just so you know - I wasn’t going to pick any of the ladies up. I just like to look. I’m married, you know. Not dead.”

Nokto laughed. “Same difference. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

As Jin left, he heard one of the ladies ask ‘Where did the other guy go?’ and Nokto chuckled as he told her, ‘Oh, that old guy is married. Who cares where he went? Let me introduce myself . . .”

“Lecher,” Jin muttered under his breath.

[twiixr4kidz]

Ok this will be da final request…. Scott and the evil exes on their wedding day with y/n headcanons!!! I just luv ur work so much XD

but ofc!!

scott and the evil exes on your wedding day!!

scott pilgrim

I KNOW I SAY HE CRIES A LOT BUT HE'S A BIG CRYBABY

cries when he sees you in your outfit, cries when he sees you walking down the aisle, cries before, during, and after the ceremony, cries during the afterparty, cries when you're cutting the cake, cries shoving the cake into your face

he cannot believe it's happening

he cannot believe ANYTHING is happening

bro is just shocked and so so happy

matthew patel

as the resident cornball, you can BET matthew's been waiting for this day

he's been dreaming about the most picture perfect wedding between the two of you, and as the ceremony is going underway, he just realizes

it's like something hits him

and he can't stop smiling

he looks like a dork, the way he's smiling so widely in his suit and tie, just grinning from ear to ear as he stares at you

and the way he quite literally SWOOPS YOU OFF YOUR FEET TO KISS HIM??

lucas lee

oh, lucas

bro is sighing all dreamily at the very thought of marrying you, so when it's actually happening, it's a dream come true for him

he loves the idea of settling down with you

just the two of you, living together and coexisting as both your own people and as a whole

he's so suave too? he's just telling you the most romantic things the entire day

he doesn't cry, but he's close to it

todd ingram

he is a walking ball of anxiety

does he look nice? is everything going to go as planned? are you having second thoughts? is he having seconds thoughts? are these second thoughts? or is he just overthinking?

LITERALLY SHAKING PROFUSELY but he refuses to show his anxiety aside from that

grasps your hands the whole time and stares longingly into your eyes

you can tell he's seconds from just kissing you and hugging you so tight you feel like you're going to explode

he's resisting the urge but you're standing there, so close to him, and you look so perfect he feels like his knees are going to buckle and he's going to fall over

HE'S A MESS

literally bawls into your arms when the two of you are alone

roxie richter

literally bouncing off the walls

look, okay, so... roxie never really thought? of getting married?

it wasn't something she considered to be a life goal, and she honestly kinda frowned at the idea of marriage

but the two of you had a long discussion about what marriage meant to the two of you instead of what it meant to the rest of the world

and now that it was actually happening and the two of you were getting married?

SHE'S SCREAMING, SHE'S CRYING, SHE'S GIGGLING, SHE'S LIKE A RABID PING PONG BALL

you've asked her like 12 times if she's sure she's okay but she's so overwhelmed with happy emotions that she just cannot control herself

and she's all the more excited when everything goes smoothly

she's so happy, and she knows for a fact that you are too

kyle katayanagi

he broke out the most expensive looking suit for this occasion

to be honest, he's worried he's not gonna look as good as you because as soon as you come walking down that aisle, he's going to start drooling

he already knows you're going to look literally perfect

totally freaking out but also so so so excited for this new chapter in your lives

he's a lot more relaxed than he usually is

until the afterparty, where his true party animal comes out and he gets drunk and starts throwing confetti at everybody

the confetti is napkins he ripped up

you're gonna have your hands full with this one

ken katayanagi

as soon as he makes eye contact with you, his entire expression melts into this smile that screams "you're the one"

the way he holds your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of them

and the way kisses you so passionately

he's always been so good with words, but in this moment, he doesn't need to rely on them

his actions say it all

he's never been happier to live out the rest of his days and get old with someone until he met you

gideon graves

big surprise, gideon goes ALL OUT

the fanciest food you've ever layed your eyes on, the entire set-up looks so glamorous, and you can only wonder how much he spent on everything

except no you can't, because with the way he's looking at you, you're too focused on the fact that OH MY GOD THIS IS HAPPENING

but, like todd, he's very anxious that this is actually happening

ofc he's excited, but his past still haunts him and he wants you to trust him

and as he looks into your eyes, he tells you how you're the most attractive person he's ever seen

how he can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you

and most of all, how's he so happy that you chose him

and it's then that he realizes you do

you trust him.

[lightcreators]

❝ It's quite a lot … ❞ He commented, as he left his honestly escaping his lips. There no forgotting about how he initially applied to that place, hence impression remained something he needed to be careful with, even though he would want an blunt opinion. Nevertheless, how many plates needed to be confirmed upon the menu ? Doesn't an big menu would put too much pressures on the cooks ? As he looked upon the owner of the place, he considered in which manner he could exposing such questions, if ever he was allowed to commenting about that part. ❝ How many of these meals do you plan to add ? If all of them achieved my approval, would you add them all ? ❞ After consideration, he wasn't well-placed for judging manner of working coming from an place --- for had literally worked alone in a shift in which he accoustumed himself to the intensive work, when complains reached his ears about how they needed more employees. Every time he was behind the scene, he was doing his job --- it wasn't his position to judge, not that part. He was no professional of the ground nevertheless, and didn't have at all experience he had. He nodded inside the remembrance he got, in which he didn't have impression his previous words has been wrong in any way. He could accept to be remember into his place. Now, as he was looking over the meals, he pondered in which manner this will be another adventure. Cannot been worse than exploding because of an big burger that seemed unreachable … He nodded another time as he hummed. ❝ Think I'll get started. Do you want some paper and pen ? It will be better to turn highlight those I approve of and those I don't approve of. ❞ All the meals with an green check mark would be approved, and red cross would express a negative impression, where he could comment later.

"Everything you see now is merely what the younger chefs have proposed to add."

Being that this is not the main branch of the restaurant, he's fine with it being added. Just know that any revenue lost would be to their own salaries rather then those who stuck to the original recipes that were added. Over centuries of cooking to make the best restaurant within China itself.

"Taste first before you say anything important. Taste is the most important subject when it comes to food , after all."

Some foods just had unusual appearance, but were delicious. Some food looked delicious, but were disgusting to eat. Such is the way of cooking, you win, you lose. but you keep moving forward no matter what.

"You only need to taste, not finish."

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

The first song of spring (pt.3)

Elrond x reader. (moodboard)

*****

The moment Elrond arrives in Khazad-Dum, Durin just needs to look at his face to realize there is something wrong. “Who died?” 

“No one.” Elrond reassures, forcing himself to smile; he has come to bear good news, or at least he hopes, but he can’t help being nervous since has no idea how you will react at what he has come to tell you “May I speak to (name)? It is a very important matter, and... it is better if we are not disturbed for a while.”

Durin is perceptive enough, and he cares about you both, not to ask questions. He guides Elrond to his and Disa’s quarters, where you and the princess are folding some freshly washed clothes. On seeing your friend, whose visit you were not expecting until the next season, a huge smile appears on your face... and then you frown, seeing his expression.

“Elrond? What...?” Disa begins, but Durin quickly whispers something at her, and the two Dwarves leave you and Elrond alone.

“What has happened? Are you all right?” you immediately ask, confused but already assuming the worst; Elrond takes your hand in his. He looks at you, and wonders how he didn’t notice it before: now that he knows, you look so much like your father, the same noble features, the deep gaze, the elegant bearing “Elrond...?”

You are a princess; the daughter of a King, heir apparent to the crown of Lindon. And he, who has felt a special kind of affection growing in his heart ever since he met you, doesn’t quite know how to react; he still cares for you, and he is overjoyed to be able to tell you that you haven’t killed Marion and you can go home if you wish... but he he fears this will change everything between the two of you. He knows it is selfish, but he can’t help it.

After all, why would a princess waste her time with a simple Herald?

You sit next to each other on Disa and Durin’s bed, still holding each other’s hands. “Elrond, what is wrong? Please tell me, you are scaring me.” you beg him, and years spent as the king’s speech-writer have made him quick in finding the right words... even when he is feeling his heart pounding so hard it’s hurting. 

“As I had promised you, I never attempted to know more about the past you are so desperately trying to hide and forget; but fate would have that I discovered it nonetheless. I know you are the princess of Lindon, daughter of High King Gil-Galad.”

You gasp, and turn white. “How...?”

“It was a simple coincidence; I found your portrait, that the King keeps in his chambers, and I showed it to lord Celebrimbor, who told me all about you. You are still much loved in Lindon, by your friends and family.”

And by no one more than me. This Elrond thinks, having finally recognized the feelings that have grown in his heart during the last years, but he doesn’t speak them, because now it is the least appropriate moment, and because you are already and unexpectedly coming to terms with so much... and because in his heart he knows it wouldn’t matter. 

“Do not ask me to go back, Elrond.” you beg him; you are sure your friend -your dear, dear friend, who you love so much, and whose eyes still hold such kindness and affection, which means that he has no idea of what you have done, and what you are... a kinslayer, and you don’t want to tell him, you don’t want to see the horror and the disdain on his fair face when he will know “I cannot. I simply cannot. You... you must know, I have done something horrible...”

“Marion is alive.”

Silence explodes in the room; for a moment you are glad you are sitting on a bed, since you won’t hurt yourself if you faint. “... what?!”

Elrond quickly repeats everything Celebrimbor told him about how your former friend miraculously survived the fall and was thus able to exonerate you. “You are guilty of no crime, and accused of nothing more than having been afraid and ashamed.” he comforts you with an hand on your shoulder “Your father looked for you far and wide, determined to bring you home, and he suffers so much for your loss he has ordered that your name be never pronounced at the palace.”

“My father” you whisper; you have thought about him every day, every moment since you run away, wracked by shame and guilt for what you -thought you- had done, and you know he loved you, as much as you loved him, but the thought to see him again makes you feel like you are standing on the edge of a precipice “It has been so long, and he... he has never been quick to forgiveness...”

“He is your father; I am sure he would give his life to see you happy and safe. Please, won’t you come back? I know you got used to live here in Khazad-Dum, and you are fond of Disa and Durin and their children, but Lindon is your home, and your family and your friends would be thrilled to see you.”

It would seem the easiest decision in the world; you have missed your father, and your home, so much, and since you now know you have committed no crime -poor Marion, who you mourned for so long, feeling guilty because had you been able to love him like he loved you, maybe nothing bad would have happened- you are free to return home. But what if something has changed? What if everything has changed? You loved living in Lindon, at the palace, with your father and your friends, but you have been away for almost a century, and maybe that has broken something that cannot be repaired, no matter how much love there existed between you and the people you knew, and in that case maybe it would be better for you to remain live among the Dwarves, where you are not loved, or even just liked much, except by Disa and her family, but at least you know what you are in for...

And then you look at Elrond; kind, sweet, affectionate Elrond, who looks thrilled as if he were the one whose conscience has been cleared and who can finally return home. You look at him, and suddenly it is like all your fears disappear like snow at the first song of spring.

“If I return... will you come with me?” you plead, and it is maybe unfair to ask, since he has done so much for you already, but you can’t help it, you can’t feel safe and happy and tranquil, unless he is by your side “To Lindon... and to my father. I... I don’t know whether I have the courage.”

He smiles as if he was given a great gift, instead of a new task. “I would be happy to.”

When you finally reveal your identity to them, Durin and Disa are flabbergasted: they had suspected you belonged to a noble family, given your bearing and your quiet understanding of the royal matters they sometimes told you about, but they never would have imagined they had harboured a princess. Nonetheless, nothing has changed for them: they are glad to see you happy and ready to go home, and when the Princess, the best friend you had in your life, takes your hand in hers and tells you “You can come back, remember; whenever you want, for whatever reason” you know she hopes you will have a reason to, even though she will miss you. You cry as you hug her, and you promise you will write. 

A Dwarf of few words, Durin simply hugs you so hard your ribs hurt, and then he shares a very eloquent look with Elrond, who clearly has been tasked by his friend with taking care of you once you will be out of the kingdom - a superfluous concern, since you have been looking after yourself for centuries, but that you appreciate nonetheless.

You and Elrond don’t speak much as you travel towards Lindon. You are torn between happiness -you are finally going home! Marion is alive, and you haven’t killed him! You are going to see your father soon!- and fears you cannot even express in the privacy of your heart; your friend wordlessly looks at you, knowing that he should feel happy for you, and that he can’t since he is losing you just as you are finding your family and home again.

“Is it as you remembered it?” he asks as the two of you finally reach the King’s palace, where you were born and lived most of your life. 

“I think so; but I had forgotten how majestic and splendid it was.” you answer. You are hiding your face under a hood, and so wish you could now have one of the rich dresses you once wore, since that always helped you to feel more confident in yourself and your father liked to see you looking like a real princess, but the dwarvish clothes you are wearing will have to do. 

Elrond sneaks you into the palace, and you don’t need to follow him to find the King’s quarters, where you also slept during your first childhood; your heart is pounding more and more every step you take. 

“Are you ready?” he asks, sweet and tender and so focused on your well-being, and it is in that very moment, when you should be focused on so much else and fear makes your legs shake, that you realize the depth of your feelings for Elrond, because of his kindness and beauty, because of all that he has done for you, and so much more.

You love him; and you will tell him, soon. 

You shake your head before pushing the great door of the King’s study, that Elrond silently closes behind you, and “Greetings, father” you say, hoping your voice is trembling a little less than you are “I have returned.”

The King is sitting at his desk, with an official letter from King Oropher in his hands. Focused on what he is reading, for a moment he doesn’t look at the door when he hears it open, but then he hears your voice, one he would recognize anywhere and even without being addressed as “father”, and it cannot be, he thinks, in his heart he has never lost hope to find you, one day, but it is so sudden, and for a moment he doesn’t have the strength to lift his gaze...

And then he finds it. He slowly rises, and he looks at you as he approaches, even though he doesn’t need to. He could never be mistaken, he could recognize you anywhere, feel you in his heart like he did once, when he carried you in his womb and your tiny heartbeat lulled him to sleep, and now you are there in front of him, and the King has no idea why you decided to come back now, and where you have been, and why you are wearing dwarvish-style clothes, but in the end, he doesn’t care.

You, his beloved daughter, have come home; everything else doesn’t matter.

He whispers your name, and in a moment, your feel close to tears; you have carried his memory, the memory of the Elf who has been your family and your protector and your role model since the day you opened your eyes on the world, in your heart since the day you left, and even though you had the best intentions and you only wanted to save him shame and a difficult decision, you are suddenly filled with guilt and hatred for yourself. How could you leave, knowing perfectly it would destroy him? You were a princess, you should have kept a level head and acted accordingly, not run away like a criminal! You know your father loved you immensely, and no doubt he still does, but you couldn’t blame him if he were angry with you...

You sink to your knees in the manner of someone who begs for mercy. “My King, I implore you to forgive me. I have been stupid and cowardly, and I do not deserve your clemency. If it is your will, I will leave now...”

You have so much more to say, but you can’t, because instead of inviting you to raise, your father, the King, has also fallen to his knees, and now he is hugging you with all his strength, desperately, as if you are a rock and he a castaway fighting against the tides. 

“You have come back” he whispers in your ear, shocked beyond happiness, so moved it breaks his heart, and there is fierceness in his words, a sort of avidity, as if he is challenging Eru himself to rip you from his arms once more “My child, after all this time, you have come back to me.”

His arms are warm and solid as you remembered, when you were young and ran to him to be consoled after a nightmare or a scraped knee; that at least hasn’t changed, when so many things probably have, and for now at least you can be content with it. 

“I have come back, father” you tell him, and you both smile among the tears “And I will never leave again, I promise.”

Tagging @grinkitty and @starlady66. @peepos-world, I tried to tag you as you asked, but I couldn’t find you!

And yes, the reader is the King’s daughter and only his.

[islesnucks]

I just know Mats love language is touch

its happening besties:

Mat Barzal's love language headcanon

100%

he seems like the type of boyfriend that cannot keep his hands away from you, he always has his hand on your hand, your back, your waist, your leg, always

he needs to be touching you in some way 24/7 to the point people chirp him about it

apart from that i feel he isn't the best with words, like he can get nervous and struggles to put into words how he feels sometimes and he shows how he feels more than say it

so when he sees you're sad he just goes up to you and hugs you tight against him, places a sweet kiss on top of your head, strokes your hair and stays like that for however long you need

when he sees you're nervous he places a hand on your shoulder or takes your hand in his, gives you a little squeeze, just letting you know he's there if you need him, you're not alone

when you're stressed or after a long day of working he starts massaging your shoulders or feet or back, no words needed he just looks at you and knows you need some kind of relief, to feel taken care of, and he's more than happy to do so

when he can tell you're in a bad mood he'd sneak behind you, start tickling your sides and yes obviously at first you try to hold the laughter because you're mad but you can't stay mad, not when he's doing the most childish things just to cheer you up, and when he finally makes you laugh god he gets the warmest feeling ever, it's his favorite sound

when he sees you smile and his heart basically explodes in his chest because he cant believe how much he loves you he grabs you face and kisses you, a breathtaking kiss and shows every emotion he doesn't have words to express

it also goes the other way, when he's sad or a bit down you suddenly feel his arms around you, his head low resting against your shoulder and you know he needs you there for him

or when he's static and can't contain himself, like that time he scored the game winning goal on the game that made them win that playoff series and after the game he ran out of the locker room straight to you, lifting you in his arms, spinning you around and then finally putting you down only to catch your lips with his right in the middle of the hallway in from of everyone, the kiss was far from perfect but so electric and full of emotion

so yes on the outside it could look like he's the clingiest boyfriend ever, always next to you so touch starved

but you know it's more than that, it's his way of showing how much he loves you and you don't need him to say it, you feel it

c’s headcanons  / more mat’s headcanons

[holsten-from-hasa]

Valentine's Day gift for @justtrashperson as part of the @mcyt-valentines event!

A short Welsknight and Helsknight fic.

Through The Mirror

When you look into the mirror, it doesn't usually look back at you. Well, your reflection is there, but can you truly say your reflection looks back at you when it cannot even see? For the vast majority of people, the answer is no. Of course a reflection cannot look at you in the same way you look at it. That's just stupid.

And yet, one young knight would say the opposite.

Where his armour shines a brilliant, polished silver, glittering in the lantern light, the armour his reflection wears is dull and dented, the same grey as the ash in a fireplace. Red eyes filled with anger and hate burn holes into his soul, silent questions held within them.

"Is it worth it?"

"Don't you hate them?"

"Haven't you had enough?"

He struggles to meet his reflection's stare, but still feels it on him as he turns away. It's how its always been, a silent confrontation every time he looks in a mirror. Naturally, he has very few. Only one, to be precise. Tucked away in a corner, a gift from an older relative. Something he can't just throw away no matter how desperately he wants to.

So he just ignores it as best he can, covering it with a sheet as much as possible. Sometimes he still needs it, of course. His reflection still copies his motions, still mimics his appearance as best it can, like a puppet. Though he shudders when he calls it that.

Some days, the sheet falls off the mirror. No matter how well it's held in place, the sheet will fall off the mirror. That is just another fact of life. It just so happens that today is one such day, and it's just one more pebble on a pile of boulders.

He clutches his sword tight in one hand as he marches over to the mirror's corner. It's an empty corner, an arc around it completely devoid of decoration. Like the mirror would spread its curse to anything nearby.

He grabs the edge of the sheet in his free hand, a frustrated, grumbling sigh escaping him. "I wish you'd just leave me alone," he huffs to his reflection, its expression far softer than days before.

A sharp crack rings out in the otherwise silent room, the pristine surface of the mirror now looking like someone threw a rock at it. The cracks in the glass creep outwards, but the knight isn't paying attention, there are two, far more important things on his mind right now.

One: the initial impact is right above his reflection's heart, where his heart is.

Two: his reflection looks like it's laughing.

As the creeping cracks touch the surface of the mirror, the shards of silvery glass explode outwards, barely missing his head as they come to hover in mid air. His reflection, however, hasn't changed.

In fact, it looks even clearer now than ever before.

It steps through the now empty mirror's frame.

"Oh how nice it is to finally meet you," it says, voice dripping with sarcasm, bringing its sword up to point at his throat.

"What- Who- What are you?" He stumbles over his words, taking a step back from the sword point.

"Aw, how could you forget me? I'm your reflection, obviously." It matches his step, a sickening smile spreading across its face.

"Reflections can't threaten me with a sword." He pushes the sword away, readying his own.

"No, I suppose they can't." It lowers its sword, pondering the information. He lunges forward to push it back into the mirror, only to be easily knocked aside. "Oh? You want a fight? Well, it looks like you're already losing."

It chuckles, twirling its blade in its hand but making no attempt to take advantage of his vulnerable state.

"Who are you?" He asks, regaining his balance and stepping back into a more open part of the room.

"The Knight of Hels, much like how you are the Knight of Wels." It looks relaxed, confident. As if it is already sure of the outcome. "And being your reflection, I'm stuck with your awful name choices, so I'm sure you can guess my name, Welsknight."

"What do you want, Helsknight?" He steadies his breathing, waiting for Helsknight to make the first move.

"Isn't it obvious? I came out here with my sword drawn." It raises its sword. "I want your life!" It lunges, its dark steel sword clanging against the bright polished metal of Welsknight's own blade.

He pushes the blade back with a grunt. "You aren't getting it!" He swings forwards, a look a determination on his face. His blade cuts through the air, aiming for Helsknight's side.

It blocks the blade with ease. "You're already struggling. This is a fight you've been losing for a long, long time." As Welsknight stumbles, it knocks him to the ground, holding its sword to his throat.

"What- What are you talking about?" He gulps, staring up at the red eyes that burned into him for years upon years. The same silent questions rear up at the back of his mind.

"You already know the answer, don't you? Those doubts that creep at the corners of your mind." It presses its blade against his neck, a thin line of blood oozing out of the shallow cut. "The despair, hate, and fear clawing at you for all these years. You have so much of it, you know?"

"What.. Are.. You?" He chokes out, the blade slowly sinking deeper into his neck.

"Everything you fear you could be. Everything you've shoved aside, everything you've ignored. I am you, I have always been you. And you... You are terrified of me, aren't you?" It cackles, briefly taking its eyes off him.

He grits his teeth and takes a breath, it's shallow with the sword pressing at his throat. "Yes. Yes I am terrified of you." He meets the smug expression on Helsknight's face with one of cold determination, bringing a knee up and hitting it hard in the chest.

"But you are not me! You will never be me!" He holds a hand to his neck, it's going to be hard to explain the wound later. But for now he's got a fight to win. He tightens his grip on his sword, the two knights watching each other carefully.

"How do you expect to win a battle you've lost hundreds of times before?" It snarls, lunging forwards and jabbing its sword at his stomach. He knocks its blade aside, his own blade slamming into the armour protecting its chest.

"Like this!" He swings again, his blade locking with Helsknight's. The other knight is stronger, physically, his arms are already shaking from the effort. But he grins.

And kicks him back through the mirror.

"This isn't over!" It yells, the shattered, hovering glass swarming and swirling to slot back into place. He ducks under pieces that zoom past his head, diving to find their place in the frame again.

The surface of the mirror shimmers, looking more like a liquid than a solid, and falls still. It looks like it was never cracked or shattered before. He takes a deep breath, stepping up to look into it, expecting to see Helsknight beneath its surface.

Yet, the face that stares back at him is wholly his own. Blue eyes and bright armour, an expression of relief and exhaustion, a bleeding cut on the throat. It's him. For the first time in his life, the eyes he meets in the unmarked glass are undoubtedly his own.

He smiles, unable to stop the surprised, relieved laugh from escaping him. He turns from the mirror, grabbing the sheet he tossed aside when the glass first shattered. He pauses as he goes to place it over the mirror again and then steps back, draping the sheet over one arm.

"There's no need to cover you up anymore, is there?" He chuckles, heading to put the sheet away.

As he turns, his reflection flickers. A pale, dark knight staring out at him for just a moment, before disappearing once more.

[melancholymetropolis]

Cloud Nine

Pairings: Roommate! Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Summary: The reader gets stood up and Shinso decides to make it up to her.

Warnings: Explicit Content. Porn with Plot. Slightly edited. Based off of this cover. All characters are aged up.

Author's Note: Hello to all! I have missed you guys. It's been a while. Finals have been kicking my ass but, I am back! This fic is a good blend of fluff and smut. Maybe a little bit of angst. If you would like to commission me, click here! I set a new goal, so please check it! Thanks for your support, it means a lot to me.

Word Count: 4500

The sound of the front door slamming shut resonated through the apartment, quickly followed by the echo of heavy footsteps trailing down the hall. They came to an abrupt pause; interrupted by the splashing of water in the sink and the ripping of a paper towel. He must’ve found the freshly baked cookies I left on the counter. The footsteps sound again but they stop short of my room. A firm knock rattled from my door; I looked up from my laptop and shouted “come in!” My roommate opened the door, appearing in front of me, dressed in his usual attire. Workout jacket and running shorts with a gym bag tossed over his shoulder. Shinso had already taken a bite out of the freshly baked cookie nestled in the paper, and tiny crumbs had been sprinkled around his mouth.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” he said as he dropped his gym bag by my door and took a seat in my desk chair. “I thought you had a date with that producer guy.”

“Yeah, I did,” I closed my laptop and pushed it to the side. “But, he never showed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shinso said before taking another bite of his cookie. He chewed it slowly before adding, “I had a feeling something was wrong since you baked.”

“I don’t only bake when I’m sad, So-so,” I replied as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“You’re right,” he took another bite of the cookie and swallowed. “You only make your comfort cookies when you’re sad.”

I gave him a quizzical look and he took it as an initiative to continue.

“When you’re sad or have a bad day, you always make double chocolate cookies with walnuts. And if you’re peeved, you add Nutella in the middle. Like today. So, if you don’t mind telling me what’s wrong, I’d be happy to listen.” Shinso finished off his cookie and brushed his mouth with the paper towel. His purple eyes gleaming up at me with concern.

“It’s just. . .” I crossed my legs underneath me and sighed. All the built-up frustration exploded out of me in three words, “Men are trash.”

Shinso’s face remained completely neutral; he didn’t even flinch at the statement. “How so?”

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Okay, so last week, remember when I was wearing that super-cute outfit?”

“You gotta be more specific, you always wear cute outfits,” he said with a confused look in his eye.

“It was a Tuesday. I was wearing some bell-bottom jeans and a pink halter top that said ‘cherry bomb’. Do you remember that?”

“You had two buns on your head that day,” he added in recollection.

“I did! Well, I bumped into Justin on my way to the studio and we talked for a few minutes. Towards the end of the conversation, he gave me his number and asked me to dinner. I was ecstatic and practically skipped down the fucking street!”

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“So, we’ve been texting all of last week and this week. I am under the illusion that we’re on for dinner. All of a sudden, he doesn’t reply to my texts this morning. I brushed it off and continued about my day. I went to the agreed restaurant and waited an hour in my car for him. Texting him the entire time, just for him to give me a reply on my ride home.”

“What did it say?”

“‘Sorry, something came up.’”

“Wow. . . what an asshole.”

“I know! Such a fucking jerk.”

We stayed silent for a minute or two before Shinso rose from my desk chair and walked to my door. He grabbed his gym bag from the floor and turned back to me. “I ordered from that restaurant you like, down the street, once I saw the cookies on the counter. I figured you could use some comfort food. It’ll be here in a little while, so I’m going to take a quick shower, then we could eat together. If you’re cool with that?”

“Sure, that’s fine. I’ll see you when you get out,” I replied with a look of astonishment on my face.

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

The pro-hero exited the room and gently closed the door behind him. My eyes remained in that general area, seconds after he left. Processing all the information that he gave to me. Wakatoshi Shinso. . . a man that I cannot describe in words. But, if I had to condense it, to say what he was, all I could say is that he cares. So much about me. Before moving in together, he was simply a friend-of-a-friend. We were cordial, always said “hi” in passing, and never left a bad impression. So, when I found an apartment, and he needed a room, it was a no-brainer. Shinso was the ideal roommate. Quiet, calm, and collected. He always made me breakfast, even though he was always up significantly earlier than I was. If I was too tired, he’d tidy up my leftover dishes and straighten up my things. When I had my period and ran out of pads, he went to the drug store and bought me some. Including chocolate ice cream and painkillers. He doesn’t mind doing the grocery shopping alone and doesn’t complain when I leave my bra on the bathroom door. He wiped my tears when my boyfriend left me and brought me flowers the next day.

Shinso was perfect in every way.

I was lucky to have him in my life.

The doorbell rang and I rose from my bed and raced to the door. Just as he said, Shinso had ordered from my favorite restaurant, as seen by the menu poking out of the biggest bag. I gave the delivery boy a small smile and thanked him, before shutting the door and walking into the kitchen. I placed the takeout bag on the counter and began to take out all the items from the bag. He brought chicken parmesan, mushroom ravioli, fettuccine alfredo, vodka alla penne, and two garden salads. In the second, smaller bag, were two pints of ice cream and complimentary miniature cannolis.

“I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I got a little bit of everything,” his voice echoed throughout the room, causing me to jump.

“Jesus—” I looked up from the array of food to my roommate. Who was dripping wet and practically steaming from his shower. Grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, extenuating his sharp v-line. He was shirtless, which wasn’t something new, he often walked around the apartment that way; however, the droplets sprinkled about his bare chest were doing things to me. His damp hair was slicked back, combed out of his face. Shinso walked around the kitchen’s island and popped open the lid off one of the containers. The display of his bruised knuckles resting on the counter caused my insides to churn.

Maybe it was the way Justin ghosted me earlier, or maybe it was the way Shinso cared for me— the longer I looked at him, the more I wanted him to bend me over the sink and make me scream.

An intense blush flushed over my face and I instinctively bit my bottom lip.

Without missing a beat, my roommate placed his hand on mine and locked eyes with me. “Is there something wrong?”

“I. . . ugh. . .” I looked away from him and down at the ground. “I’m fine.”

I could feel his violet-purple eyes squint with uncertainty. Shinso gently squeezed my hand and released a sigh. “I was thinking about what you said about ‘men being trash’ and how Justin was an asshole to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you're looking in the wrong place."

I looked up at his face, taking in his flushed-out expression. Although his wet hair gave him a more refined aura. His cheeks highlighted his boyish charm. Shinso's hand lifted from mine and found itself underneath my chin. My eyes automatically snapped toward his and my breath got caught in my throat. He had an unwavering stare upon his face that made me weak in the knees. Shinso’s eyes slowly closed and brought his face closer to mine. I gripped his shirt and pressed a kiss firmly against his lips. Every muscle in my body relaxed and I felt his arm securely wrapped around me. I moaned against his lips and loosened my grip on his shirt. I dug my fingers in his hair and pressed my body against his.

“I want you,” he groaned against my lips.

“Then, take me,” I replied as I untied his sweatpants. And kissed him again.

Shinso tore away and guided me to the couch. He gazed down at me, a questionable look in his eye. “Are you sure?”

I lifted the oversized tee-shirt over my head and tossed it to the side, My chest was completely bare, my ample breasts in the view of the towering athlete. “I’m all yours.”

Shinso’s eyes darkened. His demeanor was intense and serious. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted my legs to his waist. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he grunted before capturing my lips in a kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. My bare chest against his; my heartbeat in my ears and his body heat warming my soul. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could. I needed to be closer to him than I ever was before. “Take me to your room.”

Without hesitation, the pro-hero took long paces to his vacant space. He gently sat me on the edge of the bed and look down at me. “Open your legs.”

I scooted my by rear further on the bed and placed both feet on the neatly tucked duvet. My knees were facing the ceiling and my clothed womanhood was facing him.

Shinso swiftly dropped to his knees and brought his face to my inner thigh. Featherlike kisses sprinkled along the soft tissue and goosebumps ran up my back. When he got to my core, after taking his sweet time, he pushed the soft short and panties to the side before lapping the dripping center. My legs gently twitched and my eyes rolled back. His soft muscle continued to lap its sweet nectar and I swore I could see God Himself. After a short while, he had gotten bored of pushing my garments to the side, so Shinso tenderly removed them from my legs. I halfway expected him to rip them to shreds but I guess he was too gentlemanly for such savage behavior.

The athlete looked up at me with a wistful expression and asked a simple question. “Do you mind if I use my fingers?”

I paused for a minute and smiled. “Come here.”

Temporarily rising from his position on the floor, the massive man laid his body between my legs and hovered his face above mine. “Yes?”

“You use whatever you see fit,” I replied while looking into his eyes. “I trust you.”

Without so much as a second glance, Shinso walks to his nightstand and unlocks the bottom drawer. He pulls out a Hitachi wand, an eye mask, and bondage cuffs. “Are you comfortable with these?”

A blush dusted my cheeks as I looked at the items. “Oh my, I never knew this side of you existed.” I reached for the eye mask and placed it on my head. Then, I lifted my arms over my head and gripped the bedpost. I winked and finally said, “I’m ready when you are.”

Shinso turned to the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom. “I should’ve confessed sooner.”

I nodded with appropriate enthusiasm and widened my legs. “Please continue what you had been doing earlier. I want you.”

The athlete reached down to my face and pulled the eye mask over my eyes. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

His feather-like touches littered against the right side of my body and I swore I could feel my senses come alive. I felt the bed sink in between my legs and his warm hands reposition my hips on the bed. “Hold your legs up for me, baby.”

I did as instructed and took a deep breath.

I could feel his hot breath fan my naked cunt and all I could do was drip in anticipation. His coarse thumbs spread the thick lips apart; cool air fanned my bud. After a few seconds of no movement, his hot mouth pressed against the dripping mess. A long, deep moan arose from me, as my legs jolted again. He blew against my womanhood, creating a slurry of my nectar and his saliva. I could feel it drip down my cunt and to my rear slowly. Seductively almost. His soft tongue pushed its way into my smooth center and I felt my walls clench. He bobbed his head forward and back; probing me with his tongue as he went. I furrowed my brows and arched my back. Gripping the back of my knees, I bucked my hips against his mouth as slutty moans left my lips.

“Mmm. . . you feel so good, So-so,” I chanted as I whipped my head to the side.

He groaned against my womanhood, before pulling away briefly. He reached up the bed and gripped his desired item. Once I heard a distinctive buzzing, I knew it was the wand. He pressed the toy against my bud, possibly wanting to see my reaction to it. I moaned at the light vibrations and squirmed underneath it. A hum passed his lips as I felt his fingers gently toy with my entrance. One finger slowly went in, curling upward to the desired pleasure button. Shinso used that finger for about a minute before adding a second one. He presses his fingertips against the roof of my cunny and started to jab them upward. I bit my lip and dug my nails into my thighs at the added friction. I could feel a soft pool gather in my stomach and I knew my climax was near.

“Oh fuck! Oh, fuck!” I practically yelled as I gripped the sheets.

Shinso kept his same pace. I could imagine observing the incoming orgasm rise from my toes down my calves and thighs and to my abdomen.

I furrowed my eyes again and brought my legs closer to my chest. “Oh fuck. Oh, fuck! Oh shit!” My legs shoot violently as my toes clenched tightly. My breathing increased and tingles encased my whole body. Then, all of a sudden, all the feelings in my body stopped. And all I could hear was the buzzing of the vibrator in my room. For those two seconds, every fiber of my being clenched, including my walls around Shinso’s fingers. I could feel tears form in my eyes as a throaty moan fell from my lips and my back arched against the bed. I released the grip on my legs and allowed them to shake chaotically against the mattress. I reached under my head for the pillow and squeezed it around my head as I rode out the pleasable wave.

When my legs stopped shaking and my breathing calmed down, I released the pillow and lifted my head. “So-so?”

“I’m here,” he swiftly replied before removing the eye mask from my face. Shinso looked at me with a loving expression and placed a hand on my cheek. “Are you okay? That seemed pretty intense.”

“It was,” I replied looking at him with doe eyes. “Can you just. . . hold me for a while? I don’t think I’m ready to continue.”

“Of course.” He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me. His violet eyes gazed down at me with such repertoire that it was almost impossible to keep contact.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked feeling so insecure.

“No, I just. . .” Shinso cut himself off. Somehow trying to find the right thing to say at that moment. He pulled my body closer to his before pressing his lips to my forehead and saying “ I love you.”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat. My heartbeat pausing its usual rhythm. My mind was completely cleared of any passing thought. “How. . . long have you known?”

“Not too long. About a few minutes.”

“Wait,” I pulled away from him and sat up in the bed. “What do you mean ‘a few minutes’?”

Shinso took a deep breath and followed my motions. “I realized I loved you when you told me you trusted me and proceeded to relinquish control. I had never seen you so vulnerable with anyone and we have known each other for five years. It meant a lot to me and everything else just. . . clicked in my brain.”

“So, all the ordering food and tampons. . . you didn’t do that to get me to put my guard down? You did it just because?”

“Well, yeah. I thought that’s what good roommates do. At least, that’s what Tendou says they do.”

“Wow. . . I. . . need a minute to digest. . . all of this.”

“Take your time.”

I spent the next few days hovering about our shared apartment. Replaying those three tiny, tiny words in my mind. I love you. He loved me. Shinso loved me. He didn’t do all those nice things because he wanted to use me or my body for his pleasure. He did it because he wanted to be a good roommate. Shinso wasn’t the type of man to say things he didn’t mean— hell, he doesn’t even speak the majority of the time. He meant what he said. And I couldn’t gather my thoughts to see how I felt about him. I knew what he meant to me. I knew I didn’t see myself living with anyone else and the thought of him being with another woman infuriated me. After a short while, I picked up a pen and grabbed my keyboard to write a song.

Justin found time to text me again; notifying me that he wanted to make up for our failed date by giving a free studio session. Being the starving artist that I was, I took up the offer. On a whim, I texted Shinso to meet at the studio, half expecting him to decline my answer. He didn’t. Shinso walked into the small room, still in his volleyball uniform. His violet eyes brightened when I smiled at him. He gave me a small smirk and a short wave.

Justin, completely taken back by the massive player, gawked at Shinso’s sheer size. “Damn, how tall are you?”

“Six foot four inches,” Shinso stated in a bland expression.

“Wow,” Justin turned away from the athlete and back to me. “I’m ready when you are.”

I took a deep breath, readjusted my keyboard, and looked ahead. “I’m ready.”

I started playing the keys and looking down at the lyrics on my notebook page.

I don’t want to seem the way I do

But I’m confident when I’m with you

I looked up at Shinso with a weak smile.

Lately, all I feel is bad and bruised

Tired of tripping on my shoes

I squeezed my eyes shut and finished the rest of the course.

But when he loves me I

Feel like I’m floating, when

He calls me pretty, I

Feel like somebody.

Even when we fade,

Eventually to nothing,

You will always be my favorite form of loving.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Shinso. His cheeks were a slight pink and his eyes were slightly closed. He seemed somewhat embarrassed by the lyrics, yet really into them.

I finished the lyrics, making sure I kept eye contact with him for the entirety of the song. I watched his shoulders relax, and jaw clench at the sound of the lyrics. He leaned forward as if to hear me better. Shinso’s boyish charm was completely exposed and I was loving every second of it.

When the song ended, Justin stood up and clapped from the other end of the glass. He clicked a button and shouted for me to come out.

“You were so good!” He practically shouted to the top of his lungs. “I should’ve gotten you here sooner.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said with a chuckle.

“Please tell me you’re free this Friday, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Justin gave me a hopeful look.

“Actually— “

“She has plans with me this Friday,” Shinso chimed harshly.

Justin looked between the two of us and simply nodded. “I totally get it. Shoot me a text when you are free though. We should talk business.”

“Of course!” I replied with a smile.

Shinso and I trotted out of the studio shortly after the exchange. He remained silent within the elevator of the building. Inside the cab home. And, as we walked through the front door. It was after he retreated into his room and took a shower when he finally spoke to me.

“Did you write that song for me?” Shinso asked after taking a seat in my desk chair.

“I did,” I answered simply.

“Does that mean you. . . share my feelings?” He proceeded to question me.

“Yes, I love you, Shinso,” I offered the response slowly.

He rose from my chair and sat across from me on my bed. “Tell me again.”

“I love you, Shinso.”

His lips captured mine in a heated kiss. His calloused hands pulled me closer to him as mine latched in his hair. I leaned back against the bed and spread my legs to give him more access. I moaned against his lips and moved my hips against his groin.

“Do you want to continue?” Shinso asked as pulled away. “We can always—”

“Hurry up and grab the condoms from the top drawer,” I interjected as I unhooked my arms to peel my shirt off.

Without a word, the athlete scooted from the bed and did as he was told. Shinso swiftly removed his sweats and tossed them to the side. He ripped the plastic packet open with his teeth and rolled the rubber on his member. He climbed back onto the bed proceeded to yank my bottoms off my body and spread my legs. Shinso positioned his member against my center and looked up at me. Once I gave him an eager nod, he sunk himself into me. A soul-shaking moan erupted from the two of us, followed by a curse underneath our breaths. He leaned down to give me a soft kiss before slowly rocking his hips against mine.

Gentle moans fell from my lips as I arched my back against his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby.” I brought my hands up my legs and navel; I latched my digits onto my ample breasts and gave them a slight squeeze.

Shinso readjusted my hips and lifted my legs in the air. His fingertips pressed firmly in the soft flesh of my thigh as he had begun to drop his hips down onto mine in such a harsh manner. My walls clenched around him, as I felt myself begin to ooze even more onto him. The new stimulation was making my whole body heat up and I desperately wanted more of it. I gripped the sheets tightly and gazed at his flushed-out face.

God, he looked so powerful fucking me like that. His muscles flexed with each thrust and sweat began dotting his abdomen. The pink hue on his cheeks and the clenching of his jaw made my insides tingle.

I was more attracted to this man than I could ever possibly know.

Suddenly, his pace started to slow down and his hips started to spasm. Just a tad. He was so close to his peak.

“You take me so well, sweetheart,” Shinso grunted lowly. “You’re tight cunt is milking me dry.”

I smirked. “Are you about to cum?”

His violet eyes narrowed and he paused his thrusts. “On your belly, now.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased as I rolled onto my stomach. Chest pressed against the bed and hips in the air.

The athlete gripped my hips as he eased his member back into me. “Rub that needy clit of yours, nice and slow.”

I tucked a hand between my legs and flicked my fingers softly. A small moan fell from my lips as my hips began to twitch slightly.

“Looks like you’re not gonna last too long, baby,” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Of course not, you know how to make me cum,” I said with a giggle.

“I am the only one that will be doing that from this point on, understood?” His gripped tightened around my waist and I could feel his hips begin to twitch slightly.

“Understood,” I grunted as I felt the warm pool fill in my stomach. “I’m getting close, baby.”

“Move your hand faster,” Shinso instructed while keeping his pace.

I flicked my wrist faster and immediately felt the climax rising my legs and thighs and gathering at my stomach. I clenched and released my walls several times before releasing a gurgle-like moan. “Ahh fuck. Ahh, fuck!”

“You better not stop moving your hand, princess,” he warned in a low tone.

“I’m not! I promise!” I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip. “Please let me cum! I wanna cum so bad! Oh, God!”

“Go ahead, you deserve it,” he grunted as he began to move his hips faster.

“Oh fuck!” I gripped the sheets tightly and moved my hand even faster. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

I clenched my walls ever so tightly and squeezed my eyes shut. In the pit of my stomach, I felt a soft soap bubble pop and ooze out to the rest of my body. My entire body clenched, and my hand pressed hard against my clit as I rode out the orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my tongue fell out of my mouth. Drool dripped down my chin as the stars behind my eyelids faded. After a few seconds, I slumped forward onto the bed and opened my eyes.

“Oh fuck. . .” I gurgled as my body finished twitching.

Shinso slid out of my smooth canal and kissed down my sweaty back before laying next to me. He gathered me into his arms and looked down at my overly stimulated body. “Promise me you’ll be mine and only mine.”

With half-closed lids, I looked up at him and said, “You buy me food when I’m sad, you get me tampons when I’m bleeding, AND you made me cum so hard I almost blacked out. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you be with someone else.”

He chuckled. “I love you.”

“You better, because you can’t get rid of me. I’m in too deep,” I replied as I snuggled closer to him. After a short moment of silence, I said “I love you, too.”