Tumgik
#your inbox submissions always make my day soBBING
deerspherestudios · 10 months
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Small sketches with the best boy🥺❤ (I changed the drawing a little, I think it's better this way)
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Cooking (Denki x fem!reader)
Pairing(s): Denki x fem!reader
Warning(s): cussing, smut/18+ (minors DNI), sucking d*ck, switch Denki, mentions of ADHD
Word Count: 2,465
A/N (IMPORTANT ONE): everyone in this story is aged up to the 19, UA is a college in this AU but everything else is the same. So they are NOT minors and they are freshman in college!
A/N: request are always so pen so go ahead and drop on by, either leave the request in my inbox OR toy are more then welcome to message me if you want more detail or just want to get to know me :)
Playlist I made so you can listen to coming while reading this: https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KD7SsmFn8QM4bp3BP6DCV_ML1B2AZC3
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You laid on the couch, relaxed and in a comfortable position where anything can happen. You where watching this new anime called Demon Slayer that Mina recommend to you. Saying something along the lines of his hit the guys where. Honestly, you didn’t get the hype, but it was pretty entertaining and you didn’t have anything else better to do then to study and actually get work done so why the hell not? Little did you know a little spark plug was about to attack you. That little spark plug going by the name of Denki Kaminari. He was annoying as fuck and you didn’t want him around. But he kept coming back for more so you let him in your life and you guy’s had this little friends-with-benefits thing going on.
“BOO!” Denki screamed on the top of his lungs, you jumped in fear and got your quirk ready. Your breath coming out in short puffs as you stared at the honey eyed boy.
“You shit head! I was at a scary scene!” You hissed, slapping Denki on the back of his head like Bakugou’s Mom did to him from time-to-time when the bakusquad was over at the angry blonde’s house.
“Sorryyy!” Denki wined, rubbing his head slightly as he mumbled some cussing under his breath. You rolled your y/e/c eyes before staring at the blonde again.
“What do you want?” You asked, annoyance filling your voice and clicking your judgement slightly. The screams of Tanjiro still ringing from the TV.
“Well I had this ADHD burst of energy and I will want to bake a cake but I can’t do it alone because if I do it alone then I will make a mess and then I will clean it up and then I will start cleaning and then—“ Denki kept on rambling about this whole chain of effects that would happen if you didn’t bake with him. You rolled your eyes and stared him straight in his bright electric yellow eyes. You paused for a moment, thinking of ways to shut the teenage male up. A idea popped in your head as you smirked and grabbed the back of Denki’s neck and drawing him towards your lips. Leaning in closer and kissing his slightly puffy lips. He was wearing the same cherry chapstick that you commented that smelled good before you noticed that Denki liked you. You always guessed that this was a way for Denki to get you to notice him. The kids went on for a few minutes before you took over and pushed him on his back against the couch. The blonde gasped between the kiss, his eyes started to water a little at the sudden reaction. Before things to get out of hand you broke the kiss and smiled at the blonde. Keeping a poker face on as you pulled away and swiped away the drool that was connected the two of your mouth’s. You giggled a little, a cocky smile dragging across your face.
“Shut up…” You leaned in and whispered into Denki’s ear, biting his ear lobe a little and giggling a little as Denki choked back a moan that was forcing it’s way up his throat.
“Y-yes ma’am…” Denki whimpered submissively, his lip quivering slightly as you let go of his ear and going towards the dorm room kitchen. Denki followed you like a lost puppy dog, he would be a good little puppy. You chuckled slightly at the joke that you made up in your head.
“What type of cake do you want to bake?” You prompted, getting the pantry open and seeing what cake mixes you guy’s had and if you needed to go get in a car and drive to the gas ration at this god forbidden hour.
“Oooh chocolate!” Denki cheered, a childish smile plastered across his face as he bounced up and down. You chuckled and looked across the pantry to see if you guy’s had any chocolate.
“Well,” you started to say, smacking you lips and staring at the pantry with a disappointment look on your face. “Crap.”
“What?”
”We don’t have any chocolate cake mix.”
“Shit.”
You closed the pantry door and went towards your dorm room to grabs out jacket and skateboard. “Wait dude, did you customize your skateboard?” Denki awed as he stared at your Haikyuu inspired skateboard that had Bokuto on it. You nodded your head ‘yes’ and fully pulled on a y/f/c hoodie.
“Yeah, I started customizing skateboard’s over the summer when we graduated UA” You answered Denki’s question fully and explained it. A smile on your face as you glanced back at the blonde-and-black haired male as he ran to grab his yellow hoodie and skateboard. His late board looked plainer then yours but that is probably because he used it more then you did. You smiled brightly at Denki before going outside of the dorms. Denki spoked followed and the two of you started skating down the street.
”We should do this more!” Denki exclaimed, a playful smirk on his face as he started to do more tricks on the skateboard. You laughed at Denki and started video him for a tiktok. The tiktok was of him singing the lyrics of Alien Boy and having a blast of his time.
“You’re such a dork…” You scoffed as you stopped recording the tiktok and editing it. Not even having to look up to know the way where the gas station was.
“Can you send me the tiktok?” Denki requested, you looked at him and gave him a ‘are you serious?’ Look before agreeing with a nod of your head and sending the tiktok to him the moment you posted it. You guy’s started to skate more, trying to impress the other guy doing some more tricks. But soon, you got to the gas station and stopped the both of your skateboards and set hem down on the outside red brick wall. You and Denki imminently went to the candy section and got some chocolate box cake along with some different flavors of monster. You bought for everything.
“Did you get everything you where looking for?” The cashier asked, looking at the two of you and smiling tiredly.
“Yeah we did, thanks!” You chirped, getting out your card and paying for the stuff. Denki grabbed the monster and opened it up as you guy’s grabbed the skateboard the started heading out the front door. Laughing at dumb jokes that you guys cracked with each other.
*when you two got to the dorm’s because I know y’all waiting for the 18+ part you sinners*
Denki and you started following the directions, baking the cake and putting it in the oven and setting the timer for a hour. “There!” You declared, pumping your fist up in the air. Luckily you guy’s could be as loud as you wanted due to the fact that it is Spring Break and everyone went to there parents house. Well everyone but you and Denki. Your parents never wanted you to begin with, from the very start, they made it very clear that they didn’t want you. So why would you want to got there? Of course the bakusquad knows this. The plan was that everyone I the bakusquad was going to stay so you won’t have to to alone in the dorms but everyone seemed to have plans.
Crimson Riot had a book signing contest so Kirishima just had to go catch up on that, he seemed to be very upset to at he left you and promised that he would call you every night and FaceTime you for hours upon hours. Well, you checked your phone every second it seemed for the past two days and still no sign of Kirishima.
Bakugou’s parents got into a fight and they got a divorce so Bakugou had to go home for that. He didn’t seem to sad or caught up about it, although, you swore to yourself that you heard sobs coming from Bakugou’s dorm room after he told you over text that he couldn’t stay. So far he has texted you every once and a while and checked on you, made sure you where taking care of yourself.
Mina was going to a party and didn’t really seem to care that she was leaving you alone. Not that she was petty or anything she just never seemed to mind if she dropped her plans when they involved you. She gave you a couple of drunk text but nothing more and nothing less.
Sero didn’t talk to you about the thing, he said he would be there for you but he left you alone so you didn’t know where he was. Although, from what his Instagram story told you, he has in Disney with his family and having the trike of his life.
Jiro got her first new hit for a album of her song covers and needed to leave you. It was very emotional and you could tell that she didn’t want to leave you alone but she had to since her family was struggling and she wanted to make them proud.
But Denki stayed with you, the whole time, there was not a time that you thought ‘oh, Denki isn’t going to be there for me’ or ‘oh, I can’t count on Denki to be here’ because he always was and he always will be right by your side. Ever since the two of you where kids and Denki first got his quirk, you still remember that day, he went to hug his best friend but accidentally shocked him and the kid died of electrocution. He cried for hours and hours in class and (from what you heard) in his own home. Refusing to hug anybody until he got into middle school and you came along. You guys had known each other due to your parents working together in the same hero agency but you never started building a friendship until middle school. A lot of people say that relationships end in middle school and high school but in reality. That is when Denki and yours started to bloom.
“Remember when you first got your quirk?” You popped up, laughing a little as the tips of Denki’s ears turned a flush red.
“HEY I THOUGHT WE AGREED TO NEVER TALK ABOUT THAT!” Denki pouted, crossing his arms and trying to be mad at you.
“Oh ok…I am sorry…” You whispered in a pretend hurt voice, knowing full well that Denki will come crawling back to you once you had the slight hurt tone in your voice.
“Wait no! Baby!! Come here!!” Denki exclaimed, wrapping you in a warm hug, you burst into laughter and hugged Denki back. Feeling bad for the honey eyed male for the millionth time in your life (no but like seriously, how did this man get you to feel bad about everything?)
“Its fine Denki.” You reassured the worried teenager with some pats on the head and a kiss on the forehead. Denki smiled innocently at you before pushing you against the couch. “Oof!” You gasped as you felt he fabric press against your back. Denki smirked in accomplishment.
“GOT YOU!” Denki declared proudly, trying to pin you down on your back. You cocked your brow up slightly and flipped you and Denki over so you where on top and he was on bottom. Denki whined and bit his lip, eyes looking at you in a pleading sort of way. You smirked seductively and leaned down to kiss Denki. Your lips crashing with his, biting the male’s slightly pink lips to ask for entrance (which he obeyed instantly). You slipped your tongue into the wet cavern of Denki’s mouth and started exploring every inch of it and sucking on his tongue a little bit. Denki moaned into the kiss and started grinding his body against your pants and whining like a submissive bitch. You chuckled darkly and brought your hand to mess with his hair before yanking his hair and making him break the kiss. A string of saliva connected your two mouths and you just swiped it off and shoved your fingers inside of Denki. Smiling slightly as he gagged.
“Want me to suck your dick slut?” Your horse whisper sounded in Denki’s ear as you bite his ear lobe and tugged on it slightly. Denki nodded his head ‘yes’ before letting out a string of moans. You smirked in accomplishment of breaking the presumably top nineteen year old who flirted with all the girls at school. You pulled down Denki’s sweatpants and boxers in one Swift motion all while keeping eye contact with him. Going down on your knee’s you opened your mouth and started sucking Denki off. Your tongue swirling around his head as you slowly started going deeper and deeper until you felt it go to the back of your throat. Once you felt that your head bobbed up and down, Denki moaned loudly and threw his head back in pure pleasure. Mumbling out praises and barely forming a sentence. You smiled to yourself as you reached down and started rubbing circles along your clit, you tongue almost lolling out to the side of Denki’s duck at the pleasure of hitting the sweet spot.
“You’re such a girl girl yeah you suck my dick yeah you suck that duck so well yeah you do…” Denki managed to say before moaning loudly again at the sight of you touching your self and sucking him off. He is in complete heaven. You felt Denki’s thighs tense up around your head and you stared up at him. Expecting him to say something. “I’m gonna cum…!” Denki mumbled out before moaning again and letting his sex face out. You moaned around Denki’s dick and that caused both of you to cum at the same time. You guy’s where a panting mess on the floor. Denki had his legs spread wide and your head was all fuzzy and not cleared out with good thoughts. You guy’s stood there, a few comfortable in the air as both of you where a shaking mess. Soon, you got up and carried Denki to the other corner of the couch and grabbed a large fluffy gray blanket along with some large pillows. On nights like these, Denki liked it if you took charge in the aftercare stuff. Not even letting you two get changed until the morning. You smiled warmly at the goofy blonde who laid there on the couch, almost fast asleep, while you played Death Note (he says it is to scary so you like watching it when he is asleep or cuddling with you).
“Hey baby?”
“What’s up Pikachu?”
“Did we ever get that cake out of the oven?”
“…”
“…”
“Shit.”
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alberivh · 3 years
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the thing i love the most
summaries : where tartaglia remembers the memories of you before dying in the wilderness of his hometown.
Contains : heavy angst, comfort/hurt, major character death, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood
characters : tartaglia x GN! Reader
a/n : i love the idea of childe clinging to his s/o until his death, so i made this. Hope this hurts you readers. And Yes, my angst request are also open by now, so drop your favorites submission to my inbox folks and i’ll make it up to you. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!!
the idea of dying to Tartaglia is unknown. He knew he must die in the end of his journey but he never wanted himself to-be off dying alone. Tartaglia doesn’t want to die nor live alone. He wants someone to keep him company, even when his breath are now just as short as his time. Tartaglia doesn’t want to be alone
but there’s no such a thing as a promise who would let him die in this wonderless cold world. There’s no one who would lend him a hand even when he was dying. the scarred injuries in his chest betrays his words. and now, he could only saw a blurry visions of the snow which have already been pigmented by the surrow of his blood.
He tries to remember clearly about his past, the past where he wish he could just stuck in forever. ignoring the injuries and the fast blood pressures in his chest after the foul-legacy tranformation, he left out dying alone. He tries to reach one of the longest branch of the trees, so he could feel himself conscious even after the pain he holds. He wants to remember. Anything..just anything.
the illustration of your face hit his memory like the ‘wrath of the rock’. He was severely hurted by the sight of you, but he have no regrets on remembering you even when death tell him to close his eyes. He remembers you..he remembers everything about you.
The part of you where he always love, those memories of affections and cuddle he always hunger for, even when the day you must say your last goodbye to him forever. He never regret it. he thinks you already live long enough to stay by his side. He appreciate you to be here. but he still begs for you to stay longer even after your eyes dimmed.
why does the sinner always plea for selfishness?
He remembers the first day where he found you lying in the bed like you were nothing but a frail glasses of winds. You were still smiling at him when he came home, you even cooked him a classic snzehnayan dish for him to be happy despite your worsen condition. You gave him a space to rant out his struggles even when your time rans out faster than he predicted. You even give him a kiss of goodbye at the night you fall to death. So why must you just go like that?
Aren’t you just too much for a sinner like him to have? Isn’t that the main reason why the archons decide to take you for granted?
“ajax my love..you are the protagonist of this world, even if i left you now, i’ll watch you from the star up above..you are the thing i love the most..” though he remembers your little hopeless plea, It still made him beg for mercy. And after a while of sobbing and murmuring your name through out the breezing forest. he remembers it now, death would reunited both of you. And tartaglia would fell in love again.
After 100 days of your passing, he will start to loved you again. In the afterlife i never deserved. He lend a painful smile of goodbye to his resting face and close his eyes as he murmurs your name. He wished you’ll forgive him to keep this long-lasting feeling for so long.
“finally..i made it home..”
his last breath flew to the bloody snow. The night has came, star has fallen to the sky of his hometown. The corpses of the mighty eleventh harbingers never been found, maybe it was fate for him to always be the unknown. As this is the end of Tartaglia’s life.
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rain-anonymous · 3 years
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I swear I'm not trying to adopt more children; I don't know how this keeps happening
Feel free to send stupid pick-up lines in my inbox; I love them (I won't be taking them seriously, don't worry)
About me:
Hi!
I'm Rain. I use she/her and fae/faer pronouns
I've been adopted as a father by. So many people. So I guess if you drop a "hi dad" in my ask box I become your father. Don't really know how that works but I've kind of just accepted it
Important (Inbox and Boundaries)
Submissions: open
Ask box: open
DMs: open, but don't expect response
I am ok with like spamming and any @s! Please don't send chainmail in my askbox, though-- I always feel bad not answering asks but chainmail makes me uncomfortable.
Please let me know if there are any trigger warnings you want tagged! DM me or leave them in the ask box.
Please let me know if I mess up with something! I make mistakes and I'd rather be corrected than left in the dark (please don't be outright mean about it though).
Here's a pronoun sheet
Important @s
My children:
@gunkyfunkyboycharlie
@charlie-slimesicle
@goopygunk
@poppiesandslime
@tinywinygrimylad
@squishcicle
@twelvefrogsinatrenchcoat
@nickwildewastaken
@wisp-exe
@clearlyclueless
@counting2zer0
@ithinkimaturtle
@i-was-unstable-but-then-therapy
@the-inner-workings-of-a-bunny
@a-clueless-star
@snowtubbo
@natsueyama
@b4k3ry-n1hachu (Mod Cassidy)
@elkii
@ryfttftfttft
@emotion-spiking-anon
@traumatizedbean
@the-playing-card-system
@lithanecrane
@gogyrp
@fandomandsparkles
@beloved-innit
@ranonymousboo
@andizoidart
@pindl3
@michael-beeloved
@spider-shoes
@boba-l0ve
@spider-kitsune
@kaeamatsu
@plooshroom
@fucking-gay-frogs
@hiddenspaceplant
And my nibblings, @mellohimagic and @threefrogsinacoat
Thank you for being the co-parent to my slime sons @sad-feral-mozzarella-stick
Also, @velvetiscake is my new husband
Hello adopted sibling @illululusion and aunt of my children. And you @miishae, another sibling. And you, @king-ophelia, my eldritch sibling!!
Love you @jellytucan and @anonymous-potato300
Also yes I may or may not have several fishy ex-girlfriends and a cod girlfriend, @cod-girlfriend
My other accounts are:
@ra1nza → reblogs w/no commentary
@raindoessomewriting → writing account
Tags
note: most of these were implemented July 9, 2021, so any posts before that may not be tagged correctly
#important → important posts
#llama talks → general tag, original posts
#llama answers → answers to asks sent to my inbox
#llama submissions → submissions to my inbox
#lets go llama → stuff I save for later
#llama streaming → stuff relating to my streams
#tapeworm post → the tapeworm post (so you can block it)
#tapeworm post mention → talking about the tapeworm post
#salad fingers → talking about salad fingers (so you can block it)
#gloop → posts pertaining to my sons
The Fridge
(not my art, tagged appropriately)
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@the-inner-workings-of-a-bunny
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@a-clueless-star
Me in a prom dress for Booblr Prom!!!!
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https://mydadisawhore.tumblr.com/post/660148100966514688/the-townsfolk-did-warn-you-didnt-they-didnt
@mydadisawhore
Gloop family horror au!
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@a-clueless-star got inspiration from the above drawing and drew a movie poster for the horror au (crying and sobbing /pos)
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@natsueyama of the Vermillion twins, pt. 1
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@a-clueless-star of the Vermillion twins, pt. 2
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@natsueyama drew me and them as Dream blobs!!
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@mellohimagic it's me!!!! They drew me!!! It's so pretty!!! <3333
(please guys this art is so pretty I will cry /pos)
Have a good rest of your day <3
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heauxzenji · 3 years
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hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞
I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.
*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE
NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei
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Gn!reader focused
Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...
𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊
I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.
𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙
FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.
For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.
𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒
In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)
𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙
You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.
𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊
Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.
𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.
𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞
Lmfao no.
𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗
He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.
𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞
You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.
𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋
Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.
𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐
Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:
Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.
Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.
Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”
Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”
Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.
He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.
𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.
Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.
𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.
𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!
He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.
𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑
Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.
𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊
It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.
𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊
Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.
𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐
If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.
𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆
It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.
𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞
He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.
𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗
Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.
𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊
Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.
He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.
𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉
He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.
𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞
He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.
𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌
Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole
𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟
No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.
Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith
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buck-nialled · 4 years
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#1 Fan - N. Horan Imagine
NOTE: HUGE thank you to everybody being patient as i get to requests. please keep in mind, i am no longer taking request submissions and am just finishing up the ones in my inbox. here is another combined requests from two lovely anons, I hope you two enjoy!
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The honeymoon phase never disappeared when you and Niall agreed to venture further into your relationship. If anything, your love for one another only increased. Passing the six-month mark, the two of you yearned for one another, day and night. He found himself lacking a presence in his arms while sitting on his couch, making it difficult to concentrate on the golf matches playing before him. At work, you would sit dumbfounded at the fact that being with Niall was no longer a daydream, but reality. It felt more like a utopia than anything, being next to each other. Years have passed with a slim amount of altercations and an exceeding amount of passionate lovemaking. The only time both of you felt somber or agitated with one another was when touring interfered.
An entire month has passed since Niall abandoned you and your shared Los Angeles home. Within four weeks, you wallowed yourself in a giant puddle of misery. Most of his clothes, Niall waited until the last minute to reluctantly pack. Among these clothes were his cologne, aftershave, and anything else which would slightly resemble his presence in the house. His calming aroma vanished within the first week and a half from the bedsheets and the shower eventually held the smell of only your shampoo. Some nights when he became too inconvenienced to answer your calls, you would sob uncontrollably.
Niall being away never bothered you to an extent so large as this; to the point where you found yourself googling fan videos and compilations of him laughing at two in the morning for comfort. At this point, though, you decided not to question it. You scoured every media platform (including Tik Tok, which held an astonishing amount of his fan base) until your eyes were burning from staring at your phone screen for such an extensive period. After taking a few screenshots of the handsome man, you giggled at yourself for doing so and (with very little guilt) utilized one of your favorites as your lock screen.
The high from watching him only lasted so long, though. You felt hungover the following morning, from how late you stayed up watching videos of Niall in hopes to wade you to sleep. What you had found was that it did the exact opposite. But still, you found no regrets in your decision. The day at work felt just as long as the last month had been, and you found your head flooding with thoughts of watching even more videos of him tonight. Your leg bounced up and down beneath the desk with anticipation, and an unusually large grin overcome your face.
Upon leaving work, you raced to the grocery store to restock your fridge. That night, you made one of your and Niall’s favorite dishes and made it a priority to plummet even further down the rabbit hole of his fanbase. Watching him was always a pleasing activity, but overnight it had turned into something all the more extreme; keeping your eyes occupied had become a drug. By the end of the night, you were disappointed to find that (from what you could see) all of the videos of him the internet could provide, you watched. While this should have been a sign for you to conclude your new obsession, you took it as a sign of encouragement. Rather than continuing to expose yourself to videos of him, you find yourself searching the internet for various products featuring your boyfriend.
Out of all the unlicensed merchandise, you found with Niall’s face on it, an air freshener was the most eye-catching. You pretended to justify the action of putting it in the cart that you have not given your car much love lately. Your quest did not stop there, though. You continued searching through Etsy and Amazon until you had racked up a considerable bill. It was when you were staring at the picture of the life-size cardboard cut-out of Niall, that a lightbulb popped in your head. Eagerly, you reached for your phone beside you and found a familiar name in your contacts.
After a few rings, you were greeted by an accented voice, groggy with sleep. “Y/N?”
“Lewis!” You cheer.
“What’re you doin’ up? It’s supposed to be midnight over there, isn’t it?”
“It’s only eleven-thirty. But that’s not important. I was calling to ask if you still had that um…cardboard cutout…of Niall.” The request sounded more ridiculous the further you clarified it.
“Uh…yeah. Think it’s in the garage. Why?”
Biting your lip, you reply. “Just…wanted to take it off your hands. If you didn’t want it anymore…” Your voice grew quiet as you fiddled with the trackpad of your laptop with your free hand. A sigh is heard from Lewis on the other end.
“You miss him, don’t you love?” A lump grew in your throat, tears building in your eyes.
“So much.” You breathe out, the thought of Niall miles away from where you sat making your heartache constantly.
“Alrigh’, I’ll mail it over to ya. Just keep yer head up, love. It’s only another month.”
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “One more month.”
It did not seem possible, but time felt even slower in the next few weeks. Not only were you waiting for your boyfriend to return home, but also your recently purchased items. Some of these included a hoodie reading his name, the previously mentioned air freshener, and even a candle that allegedly smelled like him, from what you had read online.
Weeks passed before everything ordered was placed on your doorstep, including a large box which held a promised cardboard cutout Lewis said he would mail out as soon as possible. Unboxing gift after gift through the days felt like Christmas. It was like an advent calendar, counting down the days to Niall’s arrival home. And according to what he had told you before his leaving, he was scheduled to fly back home in eight days. That night, you cloaked yourself in the hoodie which you purposely ordered a size or two up to mimic the feeling of Niall’s clothes on you. Lighting the candle and allowing a vaguely familiar smell to fill the air had you sinking back into the couch and basking in joy. Turning on Stranger Things to act as background noise only added to the ambiance, and for the first time in a while, everything felt normal.
Your phone ringing interrupted the calming atmosphere and elicited a long groan from you. Heaving your body up from the couch, you snatched the phone from the coffee table.
“What?” You sneer upon accepting the call.
“Woah, bad time?” The voice on the other end warily chuckles, and it sends intense flutters to your stomach.
“Niall, no. No, never.” You reply immediately, shaking your head back and forth furiously, despite nobody watching you.
“Good, wouldn’t want to catch you in a bad mood.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, voice weak. Knots appear in your stomach before he even spoke his answer.
“Well, I wanted to surprise you, but…I decided to head home early. I just missed you too much…anyway, I’m about five minutes away—”
“Five minutes?” Your eyes dart to the cornucopia you have made of the products you had ordered and strewn across the living room. “Shit.” You hiss. Niall seeing any of this would ruin you.
“Love…you alright?” Niall questions, concern lacing his voice.
“Um, yeah…I just stubbed my toe. And it hurts. And I gotta go, love you Ni!”
“Hey, wai—” You ended the call before his interrogations could continue, and ran a panicked hand through your hair, gazing at the piles of empty boxes and items before you. Before any more time could be wasted, you began packing the items in boxes haphazardly and stuffing them into the little room left in your closet. After that, the cabinets beneath the bathroom sink were next. Finally, anything and everything else was stuffed under your bed to be taken care of later. When you heard the front door creaking open, you caught sight of your flushed state in the bathroom mirror, and also the sight of the hoodie still donned on your body.
You heard Niall’s footsteps approaching the room, and in a moment of desperation, flung open the bedroom window to toss it out.
“Hey, there you are,” Niall says, cautiously approaching your figure. He studies your red cheeks and the beads of sweat piling your hairline and furrows his brows. “You okay? You were acting weird in the phone call.”
“I’m peachy.” You chuckle with a nervous grin. Niall hums and begins sniffing the air.
“That smells good, what is that?” He inquires, scanning the room for the source of the aroma. Your eyes widened, mouth falling open for a moment as his stare locks on the candle, still burning.
“Uh, candle! Just bought it a couple of days ago.” You shrug.
“Smells like my cologne,” Niall notes, cueing your throat to tighten.
“Yeah, lucky pick I guess.” You gander, nudging Niall in his side lightly.
“Yeah…I’m just happy to see you.” Niall’s arms mold around your body in a long-awaited embrace you did not hesitate to return. Your body sinks into his figure and inhales the much more prominent scent of his aftershave before you felt his frame stiffen.
“Erm, petal?” Niall pulls away from your arms but keeps his hands settled on your hips. Peculiarly glancing behind you, he asks, “Why am I under our bed?” Niall waits expectantly for you to turn around and see the head of his cardboard cutout sticking out of the side of the bed.
“Uh…funny story…” you start, pointing at him. 
“Where’s the rest of it?” Niall demands, crossing his arms. This cues a reluctant huff from you and a trudge of shame to your closet. Box after box of items appears before Niall’s bulging blue eyes.
“Holy shit, Y/N.” He manages, guffawed.
“Yeah, that’s not all of it.” You proceed to the bathroom, digging out more merchandise with a shameful frown while Niall could only shake his head at you.
“Why?”
“Because…I missed you.” You shrug. “I mean it’s like whenever you tour you take everything with you and when you do…it feels like I’m the only one living here. It doesn’t smell like you, or have any of your hoodies…it doesn’t feel like home without you here.” You admit, with giant teardrops balancing on your eyelids. They finally stream down when Niall takes you into his arms and begins consoling you with a hand soothingly running up and down your back. He brings his lips to your ear and begins humming calming melodies, whispering soothing affirmations in between.
“I get it, love. Empty hotel rooms don’t feel much like home either, trust me.”
“So…you’re not mad?” You croak, pulling your face away from his neck. Niall’s hand rises to cup your cheek and wipe the stray tears away from your puffy cheeks.
“Course not. Surprised, yeah…but not upset at ya.” Niall shakes his head. “It’s kinda cute.” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug.
“Really?”
“Yeah, seeing you wear shirts with my name on it, and buying candles just cause they smell like me. S’ adorable how much you support me.” His words make you regret tossing that hoodie out of the window only minutes ago, but you were grateful that he was sitting in the same room and breathing the same air as you once again. It made those entire two months well worth it.
“So…would you be okay with me keeping it all?” You fiddle with your hands, feeling, even more, heat rise to your cheeks. Niall can only throw his head back and laugh for a moment.
“Sure, love. It’s all yours.” He pauses, before sending you a stern look. “But please send that back to Lewis, it’s creepin’ me the fuck out.” He mutters, pointing to the cutout of him.
“Deal,” you giggle, before furrowing your eyebrows and looking up at him in question. “How did you—”
“That day after you rang him, Lewis told me you were missing me bad. He told me you begged him to mail you da thing and I thought he was just codding me. But I bought a plane ticket home a couple o’ days after, because I missed you lots too. It took a lot of begging and switchin’ dates up for interviews and such but I did it.” Your arms were wrapped around Niall’s frame before he could even finish his explanation.
“I love you so much, Ni.”
“Love ya too, petal.” He murmurs, burying his face into your neck, laying kiss after kiss on your warm skin he missed feeling against him. 
“Can you hand me my phone.” You point to the gadget only a few feet behind him on the floor. “I want to text Lewis and thank him.” He smiles and obeys, taking hold of your phone. In the middle of handing it to you though, he pauses and smirks at the screen.
“Love, c’mon now.” He flips the phone around so you could come face to face with the live photo lock screen of your boyfriend being his attractive self. You refuse to acknowledge it and snatch it from him. Midway through texting Lewis, he begins teasing.
“I should get one of you.”
“Shut up.”
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toriwakes · 3 years
Text
With You [Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader]
summary: draco and your brother was all you needed to get by. you never expected to loose both.
content warnings: curses like once. sad!draco and if you understand the bold phrase i’m sorry lmaoaoao
a/n: ty for the submission @ravenclawflower! i had fun writing this :) if you have any requests, please let me know through my inbox!
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never was life so simple. calm, collected, organized. easing through classes with barley any effort. life felt good. and with your brother by your side, you could do anything. “morning love.” your sweet boyfriend draco greeted. he shamelessly took a seat beside you, your house mates gandering at him in confusion. “draco..” no one wanted a slytherin sitting at the ravenclaw table. “hmm?” ignoring his carelessness, you turned to your brother. “ready for your exam in charms?” he choked on his juice. “did you forget?!” he looked at you with a petrified face. “bloody hell jackson, get to studying! you’re a 6th year, you can’t afford to fail!” hurriedly he whipped out his books and got to reading. draco laughed at your brother as well. even though that day was just a normal morning, you were extremely happy. all you needed was your boyfriend and your brother.
the things you’d do to have them both again.
the battle of hogwarts was exactly what it sounded like. you’ve witnessed so many deaths you don’t know if you’d ever be the same again. that calm, peaceful, collected girl was so far gone now.
you were running again. you found yourself running a lot. once that struck you, you turned around and faced the two death eaters chasing you. deflecting their spells,(like the skillful student you were) you were able to force them on each other. you didn’t know if you killed them. you didn’t care. you had to find jackson.
at this point you couldn’t breathe. giving up for you was never an option, but you really wanted to right now. but that thought. that thought of finding jackson and getting out of here alive gave you hope. after what felt like hours, you saw your brothers back profile- he was in danger. he was fighting off the death eater you recognized as fenrir greyback. you started to run again and you’d never forgive your legs for not carrying you fast enough. maybe if you would’ve focused hard enough, you could’ve casted the spell from where you stood and stopped him. but the werewolf‘s teeth had already sunk into jackson’s neck. so high on adrenaline and pure shock, you muttered the two words you swore you’d never say.
“avada kedavra!” he fell backwards without another breath. “jackson? jackson, please. please wake up!” you begged, hunched over your brothers obviously lifeless body. it was too late. you broke down next to him, legs too weak to carry you. “(y/n)? (y/n) what are you- oh no.” draco was here. his voice, god you missed his voice. but it was so drowned out from the ringing in your ears. your head was pounding from your restless sobbing- when did you start crying? “(y/n) i’m so sorry but we have to go-“ “no! no, i’m staying right here. i need to be here when he wakes up draco! he’s gonna be so lost, he’s not familiar enough with this part of the castle! idiot, i always told him to walk with me to learn the map of the school...” draco was crying now too, trying his best to peel your body from jackson’s. finally you caved. you fell into dracos arms and broke- letting out loud, choked sobs. you didn’t tell him about what you did to greyback. that was the one thing you’d take to the grave.
word spread that harry potter was in the court. naturally everyone ran to see what was going on- though it was not to their benefit. no one could tell but you knew right when you saw the giant; hagrid was carrying harry’s dead body.
after voldemort’s dreadful speech, you were clutching onto draco for dear life. first jackson, now harry? you were loosing hope, slowly but surely. “...join us, or die.” voldemort hissed. everyone stood still. there was nothing that could get you to side with voldemort. it was forbidden, but you read all about the man. he was weak and all you needed was harry to defeat him. but harry was gone now. then, narcissa’s cold voice arose. “draco.” she almost sang it. you turned to your boyfriend. “no.” the word was so faint it he could barley hear you say it. draco was frowning- you hated it when he frowned. you panicked when you felt him shift. “draco-“ his father spoke now. “...come.” your heart was picking up faster, surely he wouldn’t, right? “draco don’t. i need you here, okay? i cant loose you, do you hear me?” you were whispering but draco heard you loud and clear. “..i have to, (y/n).” he sounded like he was about to cry. before he could tell himself otherwise, he broke away from you and left your side. you felt luna’s hand rest on your shoulder. not even she could lift your spirits right now. draco was looking at you from across the court. you wanted to have sympathy but you kept reminding yourself that draco was supposed to be with you right now. he should be right next to you, holding you since you were so scared. why wasn’t he with you?
hope. joy. faith. it all came back to you when harry scrambled to his feet and picked up a wand, throwing curses at the dark lord as he ran off. everyone broke into cheers of joy, death eaters were vanishing- but how could anyone be happy when jackson was gone? draco was looking for you. when he found you in the crowd he waved you over, but you shook your head. he made his choice, now you were making yours. “we should go.” lunas dreamy voice said. you nodded and walked back into the castle with her.
luna held you tight when you found jackson’s body. you were whispering like a maniac. “i love you so much jack. i love you, i miss you.” finally luna pulled you away and handed you a cup of water. everything was over. you’d won. you didn’t have draco or jackson, but you won.
july was beautiful. you walked into your favorite ice cream parlor in diagon alley, buying yourself your favorite flavor and taking a seat. jackson loved this flavor... words couldn’t describe how much you missed jackson. or how much you missed draco. you didn’t hear from him after the battle but you weren’t shocked. all the death eaters were thrown into azkaban.
so when you saw the silver boy in front of you, you rubbed your eyes to check of your were hallucinating.
honestly you two just sat there for a few moments. you didn’t know what to say. “hi.” he spoke finally. without really thinking you responded. “what the fuck.” his eyes widened- you never cursed. “what are you doing here?” he seemed to be in good shape. he looked clean and less pale. not dead. “they excused me since i was under the imperious curse when they gave me the mark.” you nodded slowly, that explained the long sleeves in the hot weather. draco was eyeing you, expecting you to speak. “how are you?” he finally asked when you didn’t. you shoved your spoon back into your cup of ice cream. “let’s see. my brother died and the love of my life left me when i needed him most. how do you think i am, malfoy?” he flinched. you never called him by his last name, going on about how it was unnecessary. “i deserved that. and i’m sorry (y/n), i really am. but hey, the guy who killed jackson was found dead too, is that good?” draco normally always knew what to say. now was not a good example of that.
“why should i forgive you draco?” he had just asked you if things could go back to the way they were. he offered you a place to stay at malfoy manor; he had it all to himself now that his parents were locked up. “we love each other. isn’t that enough?” he pleaded. “it wasn’t enough to make you stay.” tears were brimming your eyes. you wanted to fling yourself into his arms, forgive him again and again and have him hold you like he once did. “now was it?” you sounded so cold. you sounded lost; not like you. he frowned. “i’ll be forever sorry. (y/n), i see you’re hurting. please, let me be with you.” the look in his eyes made you give in. “can you still apperate?”
once you realized you were in malfoy manor, you turned to find draco. he was right beside you like he promised he’d be. without hesitation you practically jumped on him- you had him again. his arms wrapped around your fragile body, fitting his head into the crook of your neck and only began to cry when you did. “i’m here, i’m here.” he shushed.
“i’m with you.”
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schokolade-writes · 4 years
Text
Romano Boyfriend Headcanons
- Really loves kids, he wouldn't really want them but he loves babies (if they're quiet-ish) and wants an s/o who likes them as well
- since he's southern Italian, he makes much more fatty and larger portions of food, and if you don't like chicken and Alfredo with breadsticks he might just have to break up
- not very affectionate but loves to be showered in it, he will, however, get affectionate if someone is hitting on his s/o
- a. Tease. He'll mutter Italian in your ear and roll his R's and when you ask what it says he'll just kiss right below your ear and leave
- tries hard to be a good boyfriend but if you don't like him you don't like him, but the moment you break up he'll end up sobbing in the shower and denying it to his brother
- hates if his s/o gets along too well with Feliciano, he's always felt inferior and he's scared you'll leave him
- hates hates hates mafia movies.
- likes a traditionally feminine female s/o If they're a female
- if they're male he still wants to be the masculine one
- his sex drive is wonky but if he's in the mood chances are he wants you on top but him still in charge, he's lazy.
- hates a tall s/o but he'll get over it eventually, just wants to seem manly
- he'll take you on the sweetest dates and spoil you then make fun of you the next day for getting food on your lip the night before
- like France, he loves to put you in nice clothes and show you off
- he doesn't have much patience for someone with low self-esteem but if you're genuinely affected by something he'll try to help, but don't expect too much
- if you speak Italian it's 100 bonus points
- also wants you to be okay with cursing but if you're female will more than likely criticize you for it, until you tell him to shut up
- will make dinner a little more than half the time but loves if his s/o knows how to cook and has a good pallete
- won't wake up until 12:30 and expects you to either stay in bed with him or wake him up then with breakfast
- a huge fan of cuddling but will never admit to it
- loves if his s/o is quiet the majority of the time but still makes great conversation
- he's messy but wants someone who's willing to clean
- you need an amazing amount of patience to deal with this boy, he's sassy as hell and tosses insults like it's salad and he works in a restaurant
- he will act like he's classy when you first start dating but after four or five months he's a slob
- loves expensive cars and will drive his s/o around in them while praising Italian engineering
- unlike his brother, he won't do a tour of Italy, but he'll keep you streetwise, he did have the mafia after all
- he'll be submissive but he's definitely a brat
- loves to sit on his porch/balcony with his s/o and drink coffee and eat various Italian pastries for breakfast, especially if his s/o is wearing a shirt of his that's too big. It calms him for the day
- Likes to pick his s/o’s outfits for the day, their own personal stylist
- He, like most countries, will go on and on about the old days if you let him. He wasn’t very artistic but he loved the renaissance and will rave about it
- Will definitely make-out with his s/o in the kitchen 
- He’s kinda chubby but if his s/o mentions it he’ll be heartbroken
- Lovino is very loving and will do anything for his s/o if they are feeling sad or gets anxiety, or just plain sick
- He gets very concerned and annoyed if they don't respond to his texts within thirty minutes
---
I’m new to Tumblr and would appreciate some feedback, and feel free to request anything for me to write in Hetalia, my inbox is always open!
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sunflowerslyf · 5 years
Text
Unmasked ~~ Twelve
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Written by: ~ M ~
Prompt #88
Rating: E (Explicit) This fic will contain consensual sexual content; mild language; discussions of injuries, illness, and amputations in a historical setting; discussions of miscarriage; discussions of minor character suicide; references to non consensual sexual situations.
My thanks to the moderators of @everlarkficexchange for always running an entertaining event, and for playing along with a little fun and mystery. Also my thanks to @sunflowerslyf for generously offering up your inbox for posting this story as well as your patience in dealing with my editing errors and multiple submissions You’re a gem. Please enjoy the twelfth chapter of this adventure. Previous installments can be found here. Regards,
~ M ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~ Chapter 12 ~~
My dreams are pleasant and I wake to warm sunshine and cheerful bird song. When I sit up and examine the room, I see that Peeta is already awake and gone, but no matter. I feel as though we have made excellent progress, now that I know more about him. So many questions remain, about his life as a Mellark, but as last night proved, he is willing to provide them. Perhaps during our ride today we might discuss it some more.
As I enter the breakfast room, my eyes find him first. Maysilee sits perched on his knee, detailing their adventure for the day. As if sensing my presence, Peeta meets my gaze with a soft smile and an unexpected heat in his eyes. My toes curl in my shoes as I picture how that expression might appear in shadows and candlelight, between just him and I and our bed.
I think I need a confessional today.
I am ahead of myself, however and halt my musings. I do not even know my husband’s birth date nor any number of other inconsequential to momentous details about him. I know that he is a baker, an artist. He prefers to sleep with a window open. He always knots his cravat without the use of a mirror and he never takes sugar in his tea. I know the name of his true mother and father and the nature of his rather humble beginnings, yet there is so much more to him. I already know this and am quite eager to find out more.
And to think of how determined I was to proceed right to the consummation without the courtship. Why though? Perhaps to prevent a connection or affection from forming between us, to convince myself that he is the brute I believed him to be that first day we met. Now that I know the source of both his haste and his reluctance to dismount, I feel quite bad about my initial assessment of him, although I do not know if I am so low as to sabotage my own marriage. Perhaps then it was a desire to be done with it, to not have the deed hanging over my head, or perhaps still it was a means to make myself feel superior to Peeta. That last is ridiculous in light of the manner he has approached our lives together so far – as a partnership, an alliance as he called it that first time. But allies must be equal, each contributing to the further well being of the other and of the alliance.
This courtship idea of his is quite sound, I admit to myself. We now have the chance to get to know one another in a way we were not given time to before our wedding, which I hope can only serve to strengthen our bond.
I choose to ignore that the reason for my not knowing Peeta well is that I focused on pursuing his brother as a potential mate and not Peeta. Why did I make that choice anyways? Was it because of Peeta’s birth or because the one meeting I had already had with him unsettled me so? If the first, then I am a despicable and judgemental creature. If the second, then my judgment in general is suspect. Sir Robert had seemed a safer choice at the time, but his elopement with another women shows that to be utterly false.
I further ignore the man in the mask. Whichever brother it was that night can have no bearing on my future with Peeta. I must judge the character of the man before me, not dream of some fantasy that may have been a complete lie. And thus far, as my mother said that first day, it appears that I have before me a very fine man indeed.
Although I had little choice in our engagement, I have control over how I approach our marriage. I could do so with scorn and resentment, but that will do no one any good. It benefits no one to live in a household with the lord and lady ever at odds. No, I choose now to face my marriage to Peeta as he has done – with an open heart and hope for better things to come. At the very least, we can be good friends and equal partners in our life together.
I force myself into the room as Maysilee reclaims his attention. Standing at the sidebar, I fill my plate. I shall need extra sustenance today, I think. I do not plan to end this day a stranger to my husband nor he to me. Peeta can still take his time with all the niceties and pomp in courting me if he wishes, but I need to know as much as I can learn about him today.
Madge stands from the table and presses close to my side, questions in her eyes.
“What?”
“You practically glow this morning, Katniss,” she whispers. “What happened between you last night?”
“He told me about his mother – his birth mother,” I say, eyes averted. I can feel blood humming in my veins, rising to stain my cheeks pink and know that I will not get away with secrecy, yet I cannot stop thinking about what it means that he trusted me with such knowledge, and oddly enough, I cannot stop thinking about what kissing him in truth may feel like.
“That is not all that happened.”
“No,” I concede and then sneak a peek at the pair still engrossed in their breakfast and plans.
“Tell me, Katniss. The suspense and worry are killing me.”
“There is no reason to worry,” I say.
“So then… he has not hurt you? Been…unpleasant or rough at night?”
“Hurt me? No!” I whisper furtively, glancing over my shoulder and relieved to find Peeta engrossed with both Maysilee and Prim.
“Oh you’ve no idea how relieved I am to hear that. He seemed such a gentleman, and his treatment of you appears above reproach, but I suppose who we are behind closed doors is never the same and both of you seemed so… so tired and distressed in a quiet sort of way and…” her words trail into breath and I stare at her for a moment.
I snort quite loudly. Madge’s brow draws together. We both check that no one eavesdrops before I explain, because I can hold it in no longer.
“On the contrary, Mr. Mellark is the utmost gentleman in the bedroom. One could say he is too much of a gentleman.”
“Oh.” She thinks for a moment and then her eyes widen. “Oh! You mean that he hasn’t…that the two of you have not…” She waves her hand about in a vague motion as I purse my lips and shake my head.
“He says he wishes to court me first.”
“But…you are already married!” She hisses under her breath and I smile, sly and satisfied with my next words.
“I think it terribly sweet of him.”
“Astonishing,” she says and we both turn to take our places at table. She whispers one more thing before we move within hearing range of the others. “There is still hope then for a truly blessed marriage.”
Hope. The feeling flowers inside me at her words.
“What are you two whispering about over there?” Prim asks and I refocus on my food while Madge diverts attention from me and our whisperings.
*************************
I am unable to ascertain more of Peeta’s past during our ride as Doctor Aurelius arrives just as we are headed out, with plans to finally remove the plaster cast my father has worn since late spring, when Doctor Aurelius was finally satisfied with the setting of the bones broken in Father’s accident. A good thing too, as I have heard whispers that my father has been in and out of fever the past few days, but the source has remained a mystery.
I am distracted as we ride, unable to enjoy our time together. Sporadic winds kick up dry dust and the heat is stifling today. Even though I chose to wear breeches today, something I have not done in some time, I have sweat like a pig and am excessively dirty and disheveled in no time at all. Peeta suggests we cut our outing short to return, and I eagerly accept.
As we ride up to the house, Madge greets us, taking Sagitarria’s bridle in her hands. “Doctor Aurelius is still with your father. He wishes all of us present. I fear the news is not good, Katniss.”
I leap from my horse and hurry up the stairs, breathing hard as I enter the room.
“What news?” I ask, as I approach Doctor Aurelius. My mother barely looks at me and even Prim is subdued. The lack of response to my appearance confirms that the news is not good. The stench in the room is my second indicator of how bad the news must be. True there has been an overall smell in Father’s room, more stale and slightly foul. This is undeniably foul.
“One moment. This is news all of you need hear, as it will affect the entire household.” I huff in impatience as we wait. When Madge and Peeta join us, she closes the door and Doctor Aurelius nods. “Mr. Everdeen remains in his coma, unresponsive. There was always a risk of bed sores given the length of time, as well as infection. Come and see for yourself.”
He moves aside bed linens and the sleeve of my father’s shirt to reveal discolored skin, an angry red with sheets of it that have peeled off. I cover my mouth and nose at the pus oozing from several blisters. Doctor Aurelius shows the cut away cast, the sheets of discolored dead skin that have accumulated and adhered to the cotton interior.
“Gangrene,” Peeta says behind me and I turn to face him. Tears cloud my vision, making a muddled mess of his image, hazy and distorted like those drawings of his from distant battlefields.
“Quite. It has advanced too far already. I must amputate this arm immediately.”
“And if you do not?” I ask as my mother bends over my father, clutching his good hand, shoulders shaking with her quiet sobs.
“Your father will be dead in a matter of days.”
“Then amputate,” I say. “Take the blasted arm off!”
The doctor gives me a sympathetic look and Peeta’s hands grasp my shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.
“It is not that simple, Katniss,” my mother says, lifting her tear stained face.
“There is a chance the amputation itself will kill him. There is risk of further infection, a severe fever or even pneumonia in response to the amputation, it is possible that the infection began deep in his tissues at the same time as his fall or during the resetting of his bones and is only now manifesting where we can see it. In that case, it may have advanced further up his arm than I am able to observe and an amputation will not solve the problem at all. It is risky with a coherent patient. I have never amputated on a comatose one.”
“But there is a chance he will survive?” I ask and the doctor nods. “And no chance at all if you do not?”
“That is correct.”
“Then amputate,” I say again. Both of us look to my mother. She manages to nod in assent.
“What do you need from us?” Primrose asks.
“I will need assistance with the operation itself. Perhaps two people of stout constitution with some modicum of physical strength as well, a background in healing or medicine would be ideal…” Doctor Aurelius looks between my mother and my sixteen year old sister, clearly not impressed with his options. My mother has barely left the house since Father’s accident and has ceased all of her duties as healer. Without Mother’s supervision, Prim has had little practice in the past few months either.
Peeta steps around me then. “Doctor Aurelius, I have been present during a few amputations, although I am neither doctor nor healer. And…I have survived one.”
“Have you really?” The doctor squints at my husband.
“My left leg, sir.” The doctor’s gaze drops as if he could see through Peeta’s trousers. “I would show you, doctor, but there is an odd assortment of ladies present to include my wife and her as yet unmarried sister. I doubt that their mother would appreciate such a display.”
Madge laughs first, only a note or two, then strangely enough my mother joins her and Prim as well. Doctor Aurelius even cracks a small smile.
“Very well. Your assistance will be welcome, Mr. Mellark. I shall send for my kit, as I did not bring that one with me. Mrs. Mellark I need a boy to run the errand.” I move to the door and shout for Horatio. Doctor Aurelius eyes the clear evidence of outdoor exertion on Peeta’s clothes. “And you shall need a bath and change of clothes, Mr. Mellark. Then we need one more—“
“I will do it,” Mother says, rising from her chair on unsteady feet.
“Are you sure that is a good idea, Mrs. Everdeen?” The Doctor questions. Her resolve seems to waver a moment, and Peeta moves to speak directly to her.
“Madame, you know what we will need. A good, hot fire; supplies similar to what you would use to dress a laceration that requires stitches, in greater abundance as it will need to be cauterized,” Peeta tells her gently.
My mother nods and leaps into motion. The doctor watches her in astonishment, but it seems that having something to do for my father has given my mother purpose again. She is a healer, and having both brought many a babe into the world as well as held the hands of countless dying, it seems that what truly crippled her in this case was the waiting and impotence in regards to my father’s care. There was nothing she could do to revive him from his coma except to sit and wait.
“Katniss, we will also need a schedule of persons, perhaps in pairs, to sit vigil afterwards and tend to the wound we shall create. He will need observation at all hours of the day for a few days. See to the organization of that?” My mother says, even as she moves about the room.
The house becomes an uproar as a fire is built up in the grate in my parents’ room. The windows in every other room thrown open to release the heat that seeps through the walls. The door is strictly monitored to reduce the number of insects entering my father’s sick room. Supplies gathered. Baths ordered for Peeta and myself.
I’ve no time to linger in the room adjoining the kitchens, designed by my father to meet my mother’s needs as a healer. A clean body is less likely to contract infections, she would remind us each time we complained of the frequent baths she demanded of the entire household. My father, in an attempt to appease his wife as well as to ease the burden of carrying hot water or the large brass tub up stairs for baths, designed this room and oversaw its modifications. I take only a moment to appreciate the high windows that admit light without compromising privacy, the clean design of drainage, and wonder if this bathroom will be one of the few things we have left of him at the end of this week.
I dare not linger too long, though. Scrubbed clean and dressed in a simple gown, I gather the household and set a schedule for watching over my father for the next few days. Horatio returns with a leather bag for Doctor Aurelius and disappears with it into the chambers.
Silence descends. I pace the hall, unable to sleep as the doctor suggested I do to prepare, as I will sit the first watch with Charles. We eat a sparse lunch and after, Madge keeps Maysilee busy, distracting her from the somber mood that has covered my home. I cannot even hold my sister as she’s insisted on being present as well. As a healer in training.
Just as I am certain I can take no more, Maysilee yawns. “We should take you upstairs to nap.”
“Wanna nap here,” the child whines and Madge soothes her back a moment. “Mama, play music?”
Madge kisses her daughter and rises, settling Maysilee on the sofa with a blanket before moving to the piano. She sits and glances at me for one moment and then begins to play.
The melancholy notes drift through the house, entering my soul and permeating deep. I find stillness through them and close my eyes, recalling the words to the tune. On a deep breath, I release one line and then another. My voice cracks at first, uneven and hoarse from months of no singing at all. As the song continues and Madge ends it only to begin another on its heels, I sing. I sing until my voice warms and grows to something splendid, as it was on days when I would sing with my father.
With steady voice, shaking hands, and tears on my face, I sing and pray that my father will survive this day. I know not how many songs I sing as Madge plays, but when the notes from the piano stop abruptly and Madge gasps, I turn to face the door.
Peeta stands there, looking exhausted and with red speckled on his sleeves. I do not want to consider the amount of my father’s blood that was shed today, but Peeta nods to me.
“He is alright for now.”
I take three steps and then fling myself into his arms. He holds me tight to his chest and we stand there, feeling one another as the birds sing outside. When we move apart, he holds my cheek in his hand. I do not even know how to describe the look that he gives me then, only the effect that it has on me. He is so calm and so steady in this moment, when I feel as though my world is crumbling to pieces. I need not be strong for Peeta, as he knows what anguish I live in right now. His hold on me reminds me that I can survive this. We can survive this, and all hope is not lost.
“Go see him,” he whispers and I need no more urging to race up the stairs.
The room is unbearably hot, although the fire has been extinguished for now. My father lays perspiring in his bed, his body twitching, already caught in fever. My mother wipes his face with a damp cloth, her hair a mess and her eyes distressed. Servants gather stained sheets and dressings and aprons, bustling from the room with grim looks on their faces.
“When did he become so thin?” I ask no one and no one answers.
“I should have seen it,” my mother whispers instead.
“Mother, it is not your fault.”
“I fear that it is. I spent so many days sitting beside him, waiting for him to return to us, that I…I told myself I could not become a ghost. You were engaged to be married. Primrose spoke of Mr. Hawthorne with such fondness and… Life was passing by and I was spending it here, neglecting my daughters for a husband who might never return to us and I tried to right it. I tried to right it and instead failed your father. I should have—“
I halt her words with an embrace and hold her until her tears are spent. “You could not have seen beneath the cast, Mother.”
She sniffles to end her cry and nods. “I shall sleep well knowing he is in your care now, Katniss.”
My mother kisses my cheek and then leaves as Charles enters. Ours is the longest watch, beginning as soon as the operation is deemed complete and continuing to midnight, an easy time for all to remember, and a chance for all who shall sit vigil to complete tasks or to sleep as needed. At midnight, we will begin our regular rotations. Charles and I work through the evening and into the night, refreshing bandages, bathing Father’s fevered skin. Charles nods off and I sing quietly to my father, wishing that perhaps I had done so sooner, as my mother had once asked of me.
When Madge and Joe relieve us near midnight, I head to the kitchen, unsurprised to find Peeta there, kneading dough. Words are not needed between us as I sit, and yet as he works, we begin to talk. I speak of my father, as though sharing all my cherished memories now might somehow preserve his spirit. Peeta listens and encourages my words. We eat slices of a hearty bread, heavy with nuts and grains, a goat cheese with dill in it melting into the pores and slices of cucumber. Then we retire to our room.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, Peeta wakes me from a terrible dream. I cling to his shirt and refuse to let him go until he climbs into the bed with me. I fall back asleep wrapped in his arms, his fingers caressing over my shoulders and back.
It becomes our routine. The entire household moves in rotations, everyone showing the strains of long days and long nights. I sing to my father on my shift with him. After a late night of keeping watch over my father, I join Peeta in the kitchens. He bakes. We talk and eat. And then we retire. After that first night, he does not even bother falling asleep in the chair, but settles beside me in the bed. He is there to wake me and comfort me from the terrible visions of the night.
The fears are easier to manage with him beside me in the darkness, warm and steady, healthy and whole. A survivor of such an ordeal, his wholeness gives me hope to cling to. In the mornings, he rises early to take his turn caring for my father, kissing my cheek before he goes. I hunt and take Sagittaria for long rides. Life somehow continues in this strange way.
“Is this how you lost your leg?” I ask one night in the kitchens as the stars burn and Peeta kneads dough for tomorrow’s bread. Mrs. Chilton, our cook, mentioned that she has begun to leave some for him to work on each night, since he seems so fond of it. I watch his motions as another question forms in my head before he answers the first.
“No,” Peeta says. “I did not lose my leg to gangrene, although I saw others who did lose limbs in this manner.”
“Then how?”
“A sword,” he says simply and I think he will not continue as the silence stretches. Then he does. “It sliced deep enough that I needed a tourniquet or I would have bled to death. The ironic part is that my job was to care for the wounded soldiers who could be saved, treat them enough on the battlefield that they might be then moved to the medical tents. If I could not help them at all…they perished on the field.
“Most days I was not in the midst of heavy fighting, but rather followed the movements of the soldiers. That day, I was…overwhelmed with patients and did not notice the shift in the tide of fighting until it was too late and I was suddenly in the thick of it. I applied the tourniquet to myself after I was wounded and continued to help others whom I could drag myself to reach, but when the fighting was over, I should have been left where I lay.”
“Someone moved you?”
“Joe. As a horse trainer and stable hand, he had a gentle touch and demeanor with the beasts and could coax them into places they would otherwise shy from. He drove the cart that moved the wounded from battlefield to medical tent, and then the dead to their graves when only the dead held the field. Joe and I had already become friends of sorts. He lied to the others about how close I was to death and ordered them to get me on the cart, after I had already told him to leave me.
“By the time I was moved to the medical tent, there was no saving my leg. The doctor amputated immediately, sutured and cauterized, and then left me on a cot, bidding me good luck in surviving.”
I stare at my hands then, thinking on how close he must have been to dying that day.
“Your father does not have an easy road, Katniss. If he survives, there will be a host of challenges when he wakes.”
“But you have survived it, so you know how,” I say and lift my gaze to him. “Will you stay to help?”
“I have no plans to leave,” he tells me. Such gravity in his eyes as he makes his promise to me. I add it to the ones he gave me on our wedding day, and for one moment, I am certain that he is going to kiss me. So of course, this is when a soft, silly laugh bubbles out of my mouth. “What are you thinking of?”
“That I would not describe Joe as having a gentle touch.”
“Only where horses are concerned,” Peeta says with a smile and we both manage a laugh then. It is a relief to still be able to laugh.
I begin to form an enticing though not yet complete picture of my husband.
“You are more familiar with that bread than I would expect someone who ceased baking at ten to be,” I say on another late night.
“I did not stop at ten.”
“You would sneak into the kitchens of the Mellark household to bake then?”
“It caused a great deal of lectures and strikes of the strap. Such a chore is beneath the son of a Marquis, apparently.” I silently fume at his words. Although I am not surprised to hear that the Marquis resorted to such punishments, as it is quite common, I know that they are not necessary. My mother and father never once struck us that I can recall. Why would one wish to cause your own child physical pain? It seems a brutish practice to me.
“At first I would bake during the day, with the servants, but when the Marquis and Marchioness began to blame the cook for encouraging inappropriate behavior in their ward instead of blaming me for convincing the servants to let me, I began to bake at night instead. By then I was old enough to not need any supervision in the task and no one would suffer except perhaps our poor arithmetic tutors who could not entice me to stay awake for lessons.”
I laugh at the image of a stern man in spectacles attempting to wake a tired Peeta as he dreamt of bread rather than equations.
“It must have been so lonely and confusing for you.” I watch a hundred emotions pass across his face in seconds and know that I have found the truth of it. His adjustment to living in the Mellark household after a mostly happy childhood with William and Nancy Thackeray was not at all easy.
“In many ways, it was…but I did have one brother who became an instant friend and ally. He was more interested in my skill as a playmate and at talking our way out of scrapes than who my parents were.”
“Robert,” I say and cannot meet his eyes, although I see Peeta nodding in my periphery.
“Robert was the only one in that household whose acceptance and welcome of me was both immediate and unconditional. He called me his twin and his brother the very first day and never stopped. He defended me to those who would use my birth as an insult.”
“You must love him a great deal,” I whisper, thoughts of the things Peeta did in the name of protecting his brother foremost in my head. What would I do to protect Prim? Marry someone I knew did not wish to marry me? In a way, that is precisely what I did in marrying Peeta.
“I do. He is my brother. I love him as you love Primrose,” he says and finishes with tonight’s loaf.
Four long days after Doctor Aurelius amputates his arm, my father’s fever breaks. It is during my shift, and I cry out with relief as I feel the sweat finally cooling on my father’s brow, his skin clammy and cooling as the heat dissipates. Charles is near asleep on his feet by then, and I send him to fetch Peeta to relieve him and help me. Peeta and I bathe my father and cover him with a warm blanket, changing his dressings one last time as the day ends, and a new begins. My mother enters as soon as she receives word.
“Thank heaven,” she says when I confirm the change.
“He remains unconscious,” I remind her.
“Yes, but it is enough for now.” She takes Peeta’s cheeks in her hands and pulls him down so that she may kiss his brow. “Thank you, dear boy, for taking care of my Kent. You are nothing like your father at all and such a welcome addition to our family.”
She hugs me and tells me to get some rest, reminding me that the crops will keep.
We walk through the house in silence as I consider my mother’s words and before I can think of something to say, we reach the bath room and Peeta speaks first. “You go ahead. I will see about some food for us.”
“That sounds lovely,” I say.
After I bathe, as Peeta takes his turn, I find a tray of food in our room. I am famished and dive right in to eat. My eyes droop, and as much as I try to stay awake, I am unable to do so. I wake to Peeta tucking me beneath the covers and protest when Peeta does not join me but moves towards the sitting area instead.
“Peeta?”
He shakes his head from the chairs and arranges a pillow. “Your father is out of immediate danger. I assumed that meant that I should–”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Get in the bed,” I say and his eyes widen for a moment. “You are keeping me awake, husband.”
His lips twitch and he nods, joining me, pausing only to sit on the edge of the mattress to remove trousers and false leg before laying beside me with a relieved sigh.
We shift and move, trapped in a sort of limbo of uncertainty. Do I touch him? He has held me every night since Father’s amputation and now we lay with an ocean of space between us. On those nights, even though he held me close, I felt a thousand leagues away, drifting in a haze of concern for my father. Tonight, despite the space between us, I am very aware of Peeta’s presence.
I roll to my side, attempting to discern his profile in the dark room and unable to do so. I listen for any snoring and discover none. I wait and listen to each sound around us, the steady cadence of breath in the night as we attempt to find sleep. I shift to my other side, with my back to him and stare towards the window. The drapes drift on the breeze, revealing brief hints of moonlight.
I cough once and then he moves. His warmth approaches me and even in darkness, I can feel him watching me.
“Is there something you want, madame?” I swear I hear laughter in his voice, but do not care as I reach behind me, feeling through the sheets for his hand. Once I have it, I wrap his arm around me until he moves closer, close enough for us to settle in an intimate embrace. “Better?”
“Quite,” I say. “Now hush so I may sleep, husband.”
“Yes, wife,” he murmurs, but his lips brush the back of my neck as he does and I cannot stop the delight that simmers inside my heart as I find sleep.
**************************
To be continued…look for chapter thirteen on the blog of @justajjfan
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noromojustkeith · 5 years
Text
Pippythewriter submitted to noromojustkeith:
Okay, so I’m Pippythewriter. I’m fanwriter who has been lurking in the shadows of various fanfic sites for several years. I’ve been reading fanfic since April of 2013. I’ve been a (relatively) silent part of the Voltron fandom for a little over a year now, and a lot has happened since then. I want you to know that after many years of not understanding my feelings towards other people, your blog personally helped me discover that I’m ace, and that that means a lot to me. Through your Tumblr I’ve found a handful of others in the same place as me. So in return I give you this story. It may not seem like much and it’s very choppy, full of typos and antiquated info, but I’ve never shared my writings and I thought this was a good start. I hope you enjoy. Introducing, October 23rd.
My apologies for taking a little to get to this submission; been away this weekend at a family event. But this was so neat to find when I opened my inbox today! I’m thrilled to hear that this blog has had such a positive impact on you, and flattered to death that it encouraged you to share your writing! (Which, by the way, you did a great job on! You have given me EMOTIONS!)
The fic in question is under the cut!
October 23, 2066
Kyle Kogane knows only 3 things right now. First, he is now 18. Second, he LOVES racing on his hoverbike. And third, because of the other 2 things he’s never felt freer in his life. That is, until he crashes. One second he’s speeding across the desert and he’s feeling the wind in his hair, and next thing he knows he’s got a cut on his eyebrow that’s sure to scar with his arm broken. His parents lecture him on how he should know better than to do things like this at his age. And he and his little brother Kent just nod their heads. Of course, mere moments after his parents leave the room his brother is at his bedside raving about how cool that was. Kyle promises he’ll teach him how some day.
October 23, 2067
A year later and that race seems miles away, standing at his parents grave hugging his sobbing brother close to him. He doesn’t cry, not until his brother’s safe in bed next to him after crying himself to sleep. Then he finally lets go, and makes a tearful promise to his parents that he’ll try his hardest to do better. To be the big brother Kent deserves, and maybe, to someday be even half the father his was.
October 23, 2071
A few more years have passed and now Kent’s on his own, and Kyle’s a firefighter. He’s working hard to save people from what he couldn’t save his parents from. He married a beautiful woman, they had a child that he loves more than all the stars in the sky. He loves her, Krolia, too. He misses her dearly, though he knows that she left to protect them. Which may sound like an excuse, but to be fair the survival of earth actually depended upon it. Now Keith’s a year old and the spitting image of his mother. Keith misses her dearly as well and is making it known by wailing his little heart out. He hasn’t said any real words yet, but Kyle isn’t worried, as Kent didn’t speak until he was 5 and he turned out fine… Well, mostly fine. Anyway, so he does the only thing he can think of and swaddles the kid and takes him out to see the stars. Surprisingly enough, it works, and Keith starts gurgling and laughing happily.
“I don’t know how, but I think you just figured out where your Mama is.”
October 23, 2075
Keith’s 5 now, and is about to start kindergarten. Kyle’s temper flares when they want to put him in the CDC class just because he still has trouble with verbal speech. He tries to explain to them that he taught Keith Morse code, and that if he has a nonverbal episode, he’ll use that. Eventually though, he has to compromise, and they agree that Keith can go to mainstream if he takes speech and if he sees a therapist. Kyle reluctantly agrees and after several hours with the behavioral therapist, they get a diagnosis. Autism. Keith, has autism. They want to put him on medication for it, but Kyle refuses. On the way home from Keith’s first day of school Keith has a thoughtful look on his face.
“Daddy?” He asks.
“Yes kiddo?” Kyle replies.
“What does retard mean?” When Keith asks that Kyle almost crashes the car.
“Who called you that?” Kyle bites out angrily.
“Why?” Keith asks.
“Keith, tell me who called you that.” Kyle repeated, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
“His name is James, but what does it mean?” Keith asks, nothing but innocent curiosity in his eyes and Kyle sighs. Kyle was hoping this wouldn’t happen at least for a few more years.
“It’s…” Kyle tries to gather his thoughts. How do you tell your autistic 5 year old that he just got called the allistic version of the N word? “It’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“Oh…” Keith replies, eyebrows furrowing. Before Keith can question further, Kyle interjects.
“How’d you like to get a soda to celebrate your first day of school?” Kyle asks, and Keith’s face lights up.
“Can I get strawberry fanta?” Keith asks and Kyle chuckles.
“Okay, just this once.” Kyle concedes, and the way Keith’s beaming is almost worth the headache he’ll get later from Keith bouncing off the walls (red dye number 5 is a truly terrifying foe)
October 23, 2080
Keith will never forget his feelings that day. The utter terror of facing an early death. The pain of the flames licking his cheeks and the smoke in his lungs. The crushing loneliness of realizing that he was all by himself. And the all consuming guilt that his father died saving him. Kyle Kogane died a hero at 31, just 3 days shy of 32. He survived by his 10 year old son and his brother who couldn’t take care of him because of a technicality. Keith remembers his dad’s last words to him.
“Keith, when I’m gone-” Kyle started, but a sobbing Keith interrupted him.
“No dad. You’re not gonna die. You- you can’t! You- you just can’t!” Keith stuttered, and Kyle stroked Keith’s long hair through his fingers like he always had to soothe him.
“Keith, you know I love you more than all the stars in the sky, but this is out of my hands. But no matter what happens I want you to remember that I love you.” Kyle said fighting off his own tears.
“N-no y-you-” Keith stuttered.
“I’m sorry kiddo.” Kyle said, as he closed his eyes for the last time. These are the things Keith will never forget. But there are things that he won’t remember. His first social worker’s name, the first family he was placed with, even the first year after his father died. He won’t remember not speaking aloud for that year, though he frantically tapped out Morse code to anyone he thought might listen. And years later he would forget what their home together looked like before it went down in ashes, no matter how hard he’d try.
October 23, 2085
“Shiro?” Keith asks tentatively, and he gets a warm smile in return.
“What is it Keith?” Shiro asks.
“Can you take me somewhere? Tomorrow?” Keith asks.
“That depends, where do you want to go?” Shiro asks.
“Nevermind, forget it.” Keith says, not making eye contact.
“Keith, I have to know where we’re going. Otherwise how are we supposed to get there?” Shiro tries to lighten the mood but Keith still won’t look him in the eye. Shiro sobers. “Keith, what’s going on, huh? What’s wrong?”
“I… The place I want to go to is a graveyard.” Keith states vaguely.
“Okay, which one?” Shiro asks, and Keith, of all things, blushes.
“I- I’m not sure what it’s called. It’s, the one in the city? For… For ‘fallen heroes’? I think…” Keith asks, unsure.
“I think I know which one you’re talking about, I can take you there.” Shiro replies, smiling reassuringly.
“Thanks.” Keith says.
“Okay well, if we’re going to make that trip tomorrow you better get some sleep.” Shiro states, firm but kind.
“That’s all you’re gonna say?” Keith asks, confused.
“What else would I say?” Shiro asks.
“You’re not gonna ask me any questions?” Keith asks, afraid of the answer.
“Why would I?” Shiro asks curiously.
“I don’t know, just… I don’t know.” Keith trails off. Shiro gives him that same reassuring smile.
“I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Shiro shrugs, and Keith finally looks at him.
“Thank you.” Keith replies empathetically.
“No problem kiddo.” Shiro says, not knowing what he’s gotten himself into. He finds out at 5 AM when he hears a knock on his and Matt’s door. Thankfully Matt is still (not after waking up, but STILL awake) awake, and answers.
“Why if it isn’t Kashi’s shadow? You want me to get him? SHIRO! Keith’s here for your late night escapades!” Matt yells, Shiro groans.
“It’s 5 in the morning Matt.” Shiro says and winces when he realizes his mistake.
“Well then someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Matt says and narrowly misses the pillow that Shiro throws at him. “Sorry Keith. But it looks like it’s too early for your hero to do the one thing-”
“I’m up, I’m up.” Shiro protests and proceeds to get up. “Just give me a second to get dressed.” Keith nods and Shiro gets dressed. “Okay, let’s go.” The ride to the graveyard is silent, with Keith looking out the window with a solemn look on his face. “Alright, we’re here.”
“Can… Can you wait in the car? I won’t be long.” Keith asks, the tentative tone returning.
“Sure, take all the time you need.” Shiro reassures. He thinks he hears Keith mumble 'thanks’, and Keith leaves the car. While Keith’s gone Shiro catches up on his emails and gets sucked into a bizzare pun war with Matt and his little sister Katie.
“Okay, we can go back now.” Keith says as he gets in the car, and Shiro can’t help but notice how his voice wavers.
“Buckle up.” Shiro states and Keith nods, once again refusing to make eye contact. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Keith shrugs, buckling his seatbelt.
“Alright. But I’m here if you need to talk.” Shiro says, and is met with a contemplative silence.
“My dad was a firefighter.” Keith whispers so softly that Shiro almost doesn’t catch it.
“That’s cool. Did he save a lot of people?” Shiro says, and quickly realizes it was the wrong thing to say because Keith flinches. “You sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.” Keith states weakly, but Shiro’s getting more because Keith’s shaking now. Shiro pulls over.
“Keith, Keith it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.” Shiro tries to reassure Keith, but he’s inconsolable at this point.
“No! No, I… I have to.” Keith states almost resignedly.
“Are you sure?” Shiro is met with silence. “Keith…”
“You deserve to know.” Keith says, and this time it’s said with the determination that Shiro remembers.
“Okay, take your time.” Shiro reassures softly.
“My dad, he… He was the only one who cared about me. For a long time it was just the 2 of us. When I was 10 there was… Our house caught on fire. He gave me his breathing mask… We both got out but… He died a couple of hours later in the hospital. It was a little over 5 years ago.” Keith was trying so hard not to cry at this point and Shiro could tell.
“Keith I’m…” Shiro starts, but trails off. Instead he decides to start stroking Keith’s hair, not knowing that Kyle would have done the same thing. Keith finally breaks down, and Shiro pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay Keith, I’m… I’m not your father but I’m here. And I’ll never give up on you.”
October 23, 2087
Keith hasn’t gotten off the couch in 3 days. It’s been 2 months since the Kerberos went offline. 66 days since the Kerberos crew was declared dead. 1589 hours since Shiro… 3674598 minutes since he became alone. 94608000 seconds since he found someone again. 5720400000 milliseconds since he became alone again. Keith so desperate for a distraction that he used the calculator to do the math. He had to get up, so he did. He took his old hoverbike to the graveyard and visited his dad’s grave.
“H-hey dad I…” Keith trails off and there’s no one to stop his impending breakdown now. He wants someone anyone, to come to him and stroke his hair like Shiro, or like the father he tries so hard not to forget but finds slipping away little by little. He remembers both and cries himself to sleep when no one comes.
October 23, 2088
The day after the incident with Lotor and the storm planet is the day Keith’s been dreading all week. He hides in his room and turns off the lights. He knows that he messed up, that he should apologize to the team, to Allura. But the person he really wants to apologize to isn’t here and it’s his fault. And as if the universe wants to punish him there’s a knock on the door.
“Hey Mullet. Come on, open up!” It’s Lance, obviously. Keith doesn’t have the energy to argue so he opens the door wordlessly and let’s Lance in. “Hunk made those amazing arepas for breakfast you have t-”
“Lance is there something important you want to talk about?” Keith says, feeling guilty but wanting Lance to let him suffer in silence.
“Well I just wanted to cheer you up, but since you insist on being the broody loner why don’t we talk about how you totally demeaned Allura’s idea that she was totally right about, by the way.” Lance states angrily.
“I messed up okay! You try leading!” Keith retorts defensively.
“Here we go again! Keith gets to be leader and he’s pouting about it!” Lance replies.
“Do you think this is easy?” Keith asks.
“I think we deserve better!” Lance answers.
“Do you think I don’t know that?! Do you think I WANT this?!” Keith yells, and Lance is taken aback.
“What?” Lance asks, startled.
“How do you think I feel?! Knowing I’m failing the team, that I’m failing the ONE PERSON THAT CARES ABOUT ME! Knowing that my dad would have been 40 today and that the universe would have been better off if he’d put the STUPID MASK on himself instead of ME!” By the end of his rant Keith is panting and tears are running down his face. Lance doesn’t know what to say.
“What did that last part mean?” Lance asks, afraid of the answer.
“What?” Keith asks.
“The last thing you said, the part about your dad.” Lance answers.
“What are you talking about?” Keith asks and Lance gets upset.
“You KNOW what I’m talking about, the part where you said you SHOULD HAVE DIED instead of your dad.” Lance states on the verge of tears.
“Just forget about it.” Keith blows it off.
“Now you see I can’t forget it, because ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS JUST SAID THAT THEY WISH WERE DEAD, and that is NOT I repeat NOT okay!” Lance is crying now.
“I’m sorry.” Keith chokes out.
“You don’t have to be sorry, you just need to ask for help.” Lance states firmly.
“I just… I don’t know how.” Keith stutters, still holding it in. Lance pulls him in for a hug, and strokes his hair. Keith finally let’s go.
“… Lance?” Keith mumbles.
“Yeah buddy?” Lance asks.
“I… I need help.”
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What the Future Holds
EDIT: I posted this before under DickKory and I do apologize. It was a mistake and I was going to fix it before falling asleep. Did not mean to offend anyone.
Sorry for all the radio silence. It’s been a weird few weeks and I have been traveling. This is a story I’ve wanted to do for a while and was inspired by @laquilasse ‘s DickBabs weeks submissions. All the artwork is hers and I have gotten her permission. Please go follow her, spam her inbox with likes and good vibes. She is a constant source of inspiration for me! Please enjoy this story!
Barbara hums timelessly as she wheels through her apartment. A smile plays on her lips as she reminds herself that it’s her and dicks apartment. Dating has been different since this time compared to other times they were together.
They’re older and have priorities more or less straight. Plus Dick doesn’t have to worry about his daughter approving Babs (since she was the one who insisted they dated). They don’t have to worry about kids of their own, other than Dicks grandkids. Barbara loves them with all her heart and M&M loves sitting in her lap and watching the hacker do what she does best.
Barbara reaches up for a box of noodles for dinner when a familiar hand reaches over her and puts it just out of reach.
“Just Because your name is Dick doesn’t mean you have to act like one.” She turns her chair, an amused smile on her face. Dick Grayson smirks down at her.
“I might be willing to help… for a price.” Dick gives that annoyingly handsome smirk that he knows she can’t resist.
“C’mere.” Dick leans down and picks her up out her chair for a loving kiss.
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A dumb as he can be, Dick really us a good guy. She smiles up at him.
“How was class?”
“Fun. You should see the kids now! Regular acrobats, I tell you.” Dick beams, thinking about the classes he teaches at the local youth center.
“You hear from Mar’i?” Barbara wheels over to the fridge for vegetables. Dick starts getting pots and pans out.
“Yep! She’s bringing the kids and Jon over Sunday. There has been a request for mici.” Barbara loves the smile he gets when he talks about his family. He’s always had it, especially about his siblings and his daughter. There are few things in this world that he loves more than his family.
They have a nice quiet dinner complete with a movie before getting ready for their nightly activities. As Dick suits up and gets his escrima sticks and other gear ready, Barbara gets set up at her computer. There are very few secrets in the hero community that are kept from her. Dick comes over to her and kisses her cheek, just like he always does.
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“I love you, Babs.”
“Love you too, Dick. Come back safe.”
“I always do.” And with that, her boyfriend climbs out the window, into the chilly Bludhaven night.
***
This mission should have been like any other. Her intel was good. He’d gotten in uniform and kissed her cheek before leaving. It was supposed to be fine. But something went wrong. Now her boyfriend lays on a hospital bed covered in bandaids.
Babs heart is lodged in her throat as she sits by his bedside. Mar’i is on the other side of the bed, gnawing on her fingernail. Barbara wheels over to the other side and takes the young woman’s hand, holding it tight in hers.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks.
“I-I do not know.” Mar’i stutters over her words. Babs knows how much she struggles with contractions when she’s scared. “I feel as if I am 7 years old again. And I am going to lose someone I love and I will be alone.”
Barbara squeezes Mar’i’s hand,” as long as one person in our messed up family is alive, you’re never going to be alone.”
Mar’i gives a soft, sad smile,” thanks, Barbara.”
The women sit in silence for a while. Mar’i begins to speak “Dad loves you.”
“I love him too.”
“No. I’ve only ever heard him talk about someone like that with one other woman. He talks about you the way he talks about mom. Like he’s still in awe that someone like you all could be with someone like him.” Other women would worry about that comparison. Barbara doesn’t. She knows what dicks like with women he truly loves. “I should call Jon. Check on the kids.”
“Ok, sweetie. I’ll be here when he wakes up.” Mar’i gives the older woman a small smile.
“I know you will be.” Mar’i leaves. Barbara sits in silence, running her fingers through Dick’s hair. When had the midnight black become streaked with gray she wonders? She traces the lines on his face with a gentle touch.
“Hmmm…Babs?” Dick’s eyes slowly flutter open. “What happened? Is Mar’i ok?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s talking to Jon.” Barbara tears up. “You’ve been out for a day and a half…we thought you were…”
Dick gently wipes the tears from her eyes,” Can’t get rid of me that easy.’
Barbara leans down to kiss him.
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Dick holds her hands and face gently like she’ll break at the next move. He looks into her eyes and she can’t possibly imagine what he will say next.
“Marry me.”
“Wh-What?”
‘Barbara Gordon, I’ve made many mistakes in my life. Many because I didn’t act fast enough and I was too scared. I’m tired of being scared. I love you and I want to spend my life with you. Are you willing to settle for a goof like me?”
Barbara chokes back a sob,” Yes. Yes, I will.”
“Dad!” Mar’i comes into the room and flies to her father’s side. Dick makes the hospital bedsit up so he can hug his daughter. “Don’t scare me like that!”
“I’m sorry, Starshine. I won’t do that ever again.” Something is different in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s time someone else too up Nightwing. I’m through with the hero life. I have three grandkids to spoil, a daughter and son-in-law to embarrass, and a wedding to plan.”
Mar’i looks at Barbara who nods happily. She gives her father that know it all look that he knows all too well,” In that case, you should definitely give up the mantel. M&M and Charlie would never forgive their Papa Dick for dying before they can be flower girls.”
The small family laughs. Dick looks at his fiancee and his daughter. What more could he need out of this life?  
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indiegem · 7 years
Text
junhui + your birthday
So my lovely gem @sassocrates wrote me a thing for my birthday. it’S BEEN LIKE THREE DAYS AND I’M STILL SOBBING IT’S JUST SUCH A BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF WRITING AND I LITERALLY DON’T DESERVE OLLIE. 
it’s just been chilling in my inbox so i asked her if i could post her submission and she said yes so now everyone who reads this can suffer along with me and drown in fluffy feels. thANKS AGAIN FRIEND I JUST ASDFHJKL; BLESS.
@sassocrates:“so here’s a Thing. I hope you like it friend! Happy birthday!
so Jun is planning stuff for your birthday
and he’s freaking out about it a LOT
like, really freaking out
and he was hanging with Josh and Minghao, and he was STILL freaking out about Getting Things Right
to the point where Minghao is like “dude are you all good”
and he’s like “yeah I just want it to be really great, you know? because she deserves it and i’m scared that i’m going to be a let down and she doesn’t like”
and Josh and Minghao share this knowing look
and Jun’s like “what. what was that about”
“oh nothing”
there’s a silence
and Jun’s like “…what’s going on”
“nothing, nothing!”
“what are you thinking”
and he glares at them until josh breaks and he’s like
“I’M SORRY we were just wondering if you were gonna say anything to her”
Jun frowns in genuine confusion like “what do you mean?”
and josh is all like “well. You know. About liking her”
“what”
“what”
everyone is quiet
And then Minghao’s like “so. Do you like her?”
and Jun’s like “pft no we’re just good friends”
and Minghao’s like “yeah right”
Jun is Offended he’s like eXCUSE ME what are you implying
“I’m just saying… like. You’re so stressed about this, you know?”
“i… just want my friend to have a good birthday?”
and Josh is like “not to be that guy but like… you’ve been really enthusiastic about this. like you’re doing all this special stuff. Like. flowers. a nice restaurant. the sort of stuff that, if I were her, i’d think it was a date.”
“it’s not a date”
another knowing look
“sTOP DOING THAT”
Josh and minghao are like “oh sorry sorry  it’s just. So obvious dude.”
and jun is having an existential crisis like !?!?!?!!?!?!?!
so he goes home afterwards and he’s sitting there trying to write your card
and he’s like??? blanking??? or not blanking
it’s just that when he writes anything down it just sounds s o o o cheesy
like he’s cringing at himself
and he’s like “why am i like this???”
“maybe… maybe they’re right? no, no, no, i’m just… there’s a lot of feelings i need to express, you know? not those types of feelings, just… totally platonic ones…”
even though he manages to convince himself it’s Just A Lot Of Platonic Feelings, he still knows there’s something off about it bc. he’s Jun. he’s always so affirming with his loved ones
but now he had to write a letter to you and he’s??? nervous??
and he’s like wHY so he decides to just write something down without thinking about it or looking at it and then he’s like iM GOING TO BED
so it’s the next day and Jun is waiting for you outside your house and he’s like. Really nervous
he’s gotten dressed up and he’s like “what if she thinks I’m ugly what if she thinks I look like a Fool”
and then he’s like “… maybe Josh and Minghao are right…” but he’s like “nO that’s insane she’s just my friend we’ve been friends for aaaages I’m being silly i worked it out last night”
but then
bUT THEN
he sees you come out of her house and you’re dressed up and he’s like
‘mY HEART"
and like he’s just standing there with the flowers and he’s floored and he’s like I cANT BREATHE
“well shit looks like I do have a crush on her”
ao he’s trying to process all of this but then you smile at him and he like. He literally Dies. He can’t take it
so he doesn’t even wish you a happy birthday he just sort of shoves the flowers forward like “hERE”
and you’re like !!!!!!!!!! bc they’re your favourite flowers and you’re like tHANK YOU SM
and he’s sweating he’s so nervous bc he’s like. Still processing the Truth and he’s like. “all my behaviour. All my feelings. They make sense now”
and you’re talking to him about something and he’s like sHIT I WASN’T LISTENING 
so he just smiles at you handsomely and you start blushing bc he has such a nice, warm smile and he’s dressed up so nicely and it’s like? but you’re like no i can’t think about him like that it’s unfair on him
truth of the matter is that you’ve had a bit of a crush on him for a while now but like. you feel bad about it bc you guys are good friends 
so you’ve just tried to push it away but how can you when he looks so damn good? 
but you’ve become really good at hiding it so you’re just like “hey! i’ve missed you!” and you go in for a hug
and he’s still screaming internally but he hugs you and he’s thinks “i have NO idea how i’m going to survive today why did i do this”
so he gives you your flowers and your gift but he keeps the letter to himself bc he’s like No i will be Exposed
the two of you head off to the restaurant, which is Jun’s big treat for you
it’s one you’ve wanted to go to for a long time and it’s a bit on the expensive sid
and it’s like this lovely restaurant and the people there all look so classy and beautiful and jun can’t help but think that you fit in there
so the two of you are seated and you’re both really excited bc !!! this is a cool experience
and waitress is like “oh is this an anniversary dinner??”
and Jun freaks and he’s like “NO NO NO it’s a birthday”
and the waitress is like “oh it’s sweet that you’re treating your partner like this on their birthday”
and Jun is like !!?!?!!??? “we’re not.. We’re”
but the waitress is GONE and jun is just. A mess inside
he’s doing a pretty good job of keeping it together externally tho
and he’s like. Asking you questions and trying to make you laugh bc he thinks your smile is a genuine blessing
and he can’t help but think about how happy he is to be a part of your life and he’s just
so enamored
like it’s actually kind of embarrassing but you haven’t noticed yet so it’s fine 
and so he’s like oKAY here’s a letter i wrote you for your birthday sorry it’s trash i just. kind of banged it out in one go
and you’re like “oh thank you!”
and you think it’s just going to be one big Meme 
but you read it and it’s just so heartfelt? and you actually start tearing up because you weren’t expecting it to be this so genuine?
so you don’t really know what to do and you just say a really quiet thank you
and jun thinks you found it weird and he wants to disappear but tHANKFULLY your food comes and you two engross yourselves in that
you only really make polite conversation over dinner and you’re both very scared and confused
so when you’re walking home, you try and make some conversation with him but he’s just. out of it
and you’re kind of concerned because you were just blown away by his letter and you hadn’t known how to respond? 
so you’re just like i gotta know if he’s okay
and you ask him what’s wrong
and he’s like fUCK IT I GOTTA DEAL WITH THIS SOMEDAY ANYWAY
he turns and looks at you and he says “I think I’m in love with you”
you’re just like “what”
and he’s like “yeah”
and you’re like “I'm…”
and he’s like “yeah me too”
and the two of you fall silent bc of shock
and he’s like “I’m sorry… for being so forward… I was just thinking about our friendship and like… recently, I’ve been feeling a certain type of way and I was always like 'nah it’s nothing’ but it was definitely something like… I never used to be nervous around you but recently I’ve always been like… worried what you think of me… and being with you makes me really happy and i?? I just sort of ignored it bc it was easy but like… it’s the truth…”
and she’s silent for a few moments and jun is starting to freak out bc hE’S RUINED EVERYTHING
but then she says “you know what… it’s been the same for me”
“wait really”
“yea… like I was thinking abt you differently and I felt so bad bc I thought it was unfair on you so I just… suppressed my feelings and prayed they’d go away”
and he’s reeling bc. this is not what he thought would happen. he had braced himself for rejection 
he’s just so happy that he takes you in his arms and he presses a gentle kiss against your forehead
and it just feels so natural and so comfortable and you’re both like ????? why did it take us this long ?????
and you look up at him and you thank him sincerely for his letter and the two of you just sort of look into each others eyes and you realise you’re standing under a street lamp and it’s so cheesy but you don’t care 
he takes the plunge and he leans down and kisses you
and you’re like !!!!!!!!!!! but you kiss him back and melt into him
and he’s like why didn’t i do this sooner holy shit
and when you pull away you both just. can’t stop smiling and it’s the cutest thing ever okay
afterwards you’re just so blushy and shy and you hold hands while he walks you home
and when you get to your door he kisses you again and wishes you a happy birthday
and it’s officially the Best Birthday Ever because your gift was getting the best boyfriend in the world 
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