withlove-xixi

[withlove-xixi]

HELLOOO! wanna promo my sketch comms on here too! guhh ... help xixi get a new drawing tablet please TT

— SURPRISE ME / SKEB PAY WHAT YOU WANT SKETCHES 🍀 (ignore it says roonie, i am roonie its my other name)

🍅 depending on the amount, the drawing will be more detailed! ⤷ [ base price is 3 USD per character ] Paying the minimum $3 = cleaned sketch (like below)

⊂⊃ get them thru MY VGEN + more samples on there too 𓂃˖ dm me if youre interested or have any inquiries !

guh ... posting it on here too .. guhhh really wanna get a new tablet soon because my current one is dying + really wanna get verified on vgen soon TT

[withlove-xixi]

I was in the mood to animate today

[withlove-xixi]

did so again and huh ... Ok! i . completely forgot i pulled things word for word from my vents on my notes app ... Cool!

wow ok .. rereading my writing that was essentially me venting my emotions at the time and its ... ermmmm Wow Ok!

[withlove-xixi]

wow i wonder who xixi's favorite one piece character is !

[withlove-xixi]

— SCORCH MARKS: sanji x reader

ᥫ cw: none ᥫ wc: 718 ★ angsty sanji fic i found collecting dust in my drafts (which im certain was a pseudo-vent i had written at the time) uh anyway .. cross posted on ao3

— THERE ARE SCARS WHERE YOUR BODY USED TO BE.

[♡]: invisible scars only sanji can feel, the residual burning heat of your touch against his skin, your hold on his hand, your head on his shoulder, your lips on his neck.

“SANJI…? WHAT’RE YOU DOING?”

Sanji doesn’t realize yet just how much he misses you.

“Oh, uh– Sorry, Nami dear,” he mutters, quickly placing bits of food back on her plate.

His face burns red with embarrassment, cheeks dusted pink as that uneasy feeling settles in his chest. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing until Nami had called him out. Muscle memory working against him to the habits you’ve unintentionally trained him, to the tender way of how he loved you.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be picky with my food…” You had muttered, voice shy and soft with just a hint of embarrassment.

You had looked like you were expecting him to yell at you, scold you or laugh at you for being grown but still picking at the finely chopped ingredients on your plate. You had half-expected him to be disappointed, to look at you scornfully as you desecrated what food he spent so much time working on. Instead he smiles at you with the usual fondness he reserves for only you.

Sanji presses a gentle kiss on your temple, chaste and tender, chucking under his breath as he pulls back. “Don’t worry about that, my dearest,” he says so delicately, his smile never leaving his face as he watches you hesitantly eye the ingredients you had shyly pushed aside. He chuckles again as he picks up his fork and takes them from you, moving them from your plate to his. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I feel bad…” you muttered, guilt dancing in your eyes as you watch his nimble fingers calmly take the food you’ve set aside.

“Don’t,” he says simply as he takes a bite out of whatever he’s taken from your plate as if to reassure you that you really don’t have to worry about anything. “I’m not mad at you for having preferences. I can make sure to stop including them in your portion if you’d like.”

You smile at him, warmly and brightly. “That’d be… nice. Thank you, Sanji. You always make me feel so loved.”

Sanji’s jaw clenches, face red as he mutters another apology to Nami who looks at him with knit brows. He waves his hand dismissively, assuring her that it was some absent-minded mistake, not some instinctive response to the way he’s molded himself to you and your being.

He needs to forget you, put the past in the past. Because you’re in the past, some person who’s come and went through his life. And he desperately needs to forget you. Forget the way his skin burned when you touched him, forget the way his name sung sweetly on your tongue, the way you looked at him like nothing else mattered.

Sanji still sees the world in the colors you painted for him, that rosy tint that made the sun shine a bit brighter, made flowers smell a bit sweeter, made the world a bit more right. He felt that in the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, the way his nose rested on the curve of your neck, the way your fingers slotted between his, the way his lips melted exactly against yours. He sees that stupid, god forsaken rosy tint still; hears you in love songs, sees you in cloudy skies, smells you in freshly baked bread, feels you in all the ways you used to love him, in all the ways he used to love you.

He’s been smoking more recently, fighting himself to rid the presence of you that still haunts him, that giggles in the back of his mind whenever he cooks the food you like the way you like, whenever he finds himself trying to pull you closer to him when it gets cold at night, whenever his fingers twitch because it’s expecting yours to lace between them. 

Sanji looks down at his plate, eyes immediately darting to whichever foods you didn’t like, the ones he’s gotten so used to eating for you. And he curses himself that even then you’re so integrated into his life, teeth grit and fist clenched. In the back of his head, he hears your giggles, sees your gentle smile, your eyes looking at him like you’re just so in love.

“Silly boy.”

Sanji needs to forget about you, the sooner the better.

[withlove-xixi]

wow ok .. rereading my writing that was essentially me venting my emotions at the time and its ... ermmmm Wow Ok!

[withlove-xixi]

Chibi sale going on!! do you want your oc, fave character, or maybe even your yumeship drawn as chibis? I WILL DRAW IT!! please message me if interested!!!

[withlove-xixi]

HELLO I JUST CAME FROM YOUR SPIKE FIC AND I WANNA SAY I LOVEEEE THE WAY YOU WRITE!!!! ALSO BY ANY CHANCE IS THE TITLE FROM A MITSKI SONG?

HELLO!! IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT ANONIE ^_^!!! and yesss the title is taken from the frost by mitski :3c! i plan to title all my cowboy bebop fics either after songs or based off genre (like in the anime!)

[withlove-xixi]

your spike spiegel content is fire please make more

NYAHAHAHA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) just in time, i just posted a new one hehe !!

[withlove-xixi]

i like your spike spiegel content. maybe a story of him and reader arguing, but spike kisses reader halfway through the argument. also preferably gn reader please and thank you!

— STUPID CUPID: spike spiegel x reader

ᥫ cw: none ᥫ wc: 555 ★ RAHHH THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!! this was fun to write tbh i love when spike is a bit of a pathetic loverboy cross posted on ao3

— DEATH WASN’T UNFAMILIAR TO SPIKE SPIEGEL.

[♡]: as a bounty hunter, it was inevitable. as a part of the syndicate, he commanded it. even his own death wasn’t unfamiliar to him, especially not when it was staring him right in the eye.

SPIKE HAD IMAGINED HIS DEATH BEFORE. Several times actually. Nights kept up by that irritable ticking in his head, those flashes of imaginary scenarios that started to feel all too much like memories, the sinking weight on his chest; the reminder that actions have consequences.

Though, death had never felt so close, not like it feels in this moment as you stare at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded, jaw slack, hands mid-motion. Spike has the guts to swallow the building spit in his mouth as he stares back at your unblinking face.

Honestly, he couldn’t even tell you what happened. Every excuse he conjured in his mind fizzled out like wet fireworks. Because, really, he swears it, Spike had blacked out.

One minute it was yelling, frustration and annoyance echoing in his small room, knives cutting through the previously thick tension in the air. It was exasperated explaining, it was throwing your hands in the air, it was witty comebacks met with cheap cusses. Then the next it was this, eerie stillness like time had stopped for you, like all the air in the room had vanished.

It happened too quick, so much so there’d only vague flashes left in Spike’s head, the afterimages of a dream he refuses to forget. You were yelling at him— arguing with him, actually. About something Spike doesn’t have half the mind to remember right now, hell, it was so trivial that Spike had basically half-forgotten it as he shot back some rebuttal. He had watched as your brows furrowed a bit more, as your mouth hangs slightly ajar before curling into a scowl, as you glare at him with such passion it was almost hot.

And for Spike, who has half-forgotten the cause of an argument he barely cared for in the beginning, it was hot. Apparently, so much so his instincts drew him closer to you. Then suddenly everything felt like slow motion, then suddenly everything was still.

Because before you could even utter another syllable of string of every curse word you knew, Spike’s lips were on yours, planting a slow kiss on your already part lips. He had the sheer audacity to cup your cheek as he kissed you so tenderly and sweetly, the audacity to shut his eyes to relish it. And when Spike pulled away he found himself here, you staring at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded, jaw slack, hands mid-motion.

He can’t tell if he’s made thing worse, if what less than five seconds of a kiss would result in his death, if his actions had consequences. Wouldn’t be the worst death, he thinks.

While he’s busy musing at the thought, you straighten up, flinching so slightly it startles Spike. For a split second, he braces himself, thinks back on every moment of his life and prepares himself to die. But he watches cautiously as your expression changes entirely, what infuriated face shifts into a downward gaze and rosy cheek. You still have that same scowl, your brows are still dipped in a glare, but you’re blushing. Bright red, Spike might add. And it’s cute, terribly so, so terribly so Spike can’t help but smile at you.

You growl, and he can hear how you aren’t even mad at him anymore. “Sh-shut up!”

Oh, you really might be the death of him.

[withlove-xixi]

two fics in a day... about two characters no one else cares about... yep! Ok! thats my quota for the year! See you guys in 2026! /j

[withlove-xixi]

— LOVE’S LUCKY LOSER: kimura x reader

ᥫ cw: none ᥫ wc: 1257 ★ i dont think you guys understand how much i want this man. cross posted on ao3

— IT WAS JUST CRUEL, HIS LUCK WITH LOVE.

[♡]: kimura was used to losing. he’s lost his fair share of boxing matches, lost his fair share of chances at love. at this point, it’s unfortunately like second nature. but recently he’s found himself in a fight with an opponent he’s certain he can’t beat, the only difference is this time he absolutely refuses to lose.

WITH GRIT TEETH, KIMURA DOES HIS USUAL TRAINING, gloved hands punching the sandbag with more force than usual. He’s fired up, definitely motivated to push himself more, to run a bit faster, to punch harder. Now, there’s plenty of reasons for a boxer to be so motivated, for some it’s passion, other’s it’s ambition, today for Kimura it’s—

“Yo! I’m back!”

BAM. Kimura throws a straight into the punching bag, jaw clenching tighter than it already was.

—Frustration.

Now, Kimura knew well enough that trying to fight a boxer five weight classes above him was a death sentence, and fighting a beast like Takamura is suicide. Still, he can’t help but be frustrated, almost to the point of settling this issue in the ring.

“Oh ho! So it’s Kimura making those sounds!” Takamura grins, clearly in a good mood.

That’s the problem with trying to settle this issue; Takamura has no idea what’s going on. To the world champion, it was a normal Friday afternoon where he and his friends did their usual training routines and had fun friendship times together. Takamura Mamoru was completely oblivious to the heavy stares on the back of head, to the fact that every punch Kimura threw against that worn leather bag was meant for him.

Now, in Takamura’s defense, this time it wasn’t his fault. Well, at least not directly his fault.

See, Takamura was an accomplice at most, to the crime that was stealing you away from Kimura. He remembers it clearly, the way you and him stood side by side at some crepe stall, a strawberry-banana crepe in your hands, a hint of whipped cream lingering on the corners of your lips. Kimura had been on his way home from training with Miyata, taking a different route than usual, having come from Kawahara gym. He spotted you two from afar, dread already icing his veins as he drew closer and closer. And while it felt wrong to, he had hidden behind a post to spy on you two, peering from the corner, tuning into your conversation.

Kimura had caught just the latter half of it, your sighing as you took another bite of your sweet treat and Takamura’s disapproving grunt at the sight of it. “That thing’s gonna make you fat.”

“Shut the hell up,” you had replied, sneering at him as you licked stray bits of cream from your lips. “Anyway, about my question earlier…?”

Takamura had grunted, arms crossed over his chest. “Dunno.” He had shrugged to which you elbow him. “Tch, alright, alright. If it were up to me… billiards and drinks would be the better option for a date.”

Option…? For… a date?

Kimura’s heart had sunk. He liked you for quite a while now, and he’s done a great job at keeping it secret from his friends, mainly because he was worried they’d tease him for it, but more importantly because he was worried it would only encourage one of them to try something with you just to spite him. Somehow, despite how careful he was, that bastard Takamura went for it anyway. The hell was the point of keeping his crush secret?

“Oh! Alright!” You had beamed, taking another bite of your crepe. “Is Friday after training okay?” You had spoken with your mouth full, voice muffled as you spoke and chewed, something Kimura found utterly adorable despite the burn in his heart.

Takamura had nodded. “Sounds good.” He had replied as you both began walking away.

“Ahh, I have no idea what to wear.”

“Eh, I doubt that matters.”

And that was the last Kimura could hear as he watched you and Takamura grow smaller and smaller in the distance. He was… heartbroken, which was a complete understatement. Really, all sorts of emotions pooled in his chest, heartache, grief, despair, frustration.

Which leads back to today, Friday of the same week, the day you and Takamura were supposedly meant to go on a date for billiards and drinks. Kimura grumbles as he hits the bag again, slumping against it after. Each second that passes is like the ticking of a bomb, each clock has turned into a doomsday counter for Kimura’s demise. The thought of you two on a date infuriates him to his core, the dreadful images flash in his mind like a slideshow torture machine; you and Takamura holding hands, Takamura leaning over you to help you with pool, you leaning against Takamura when you’ve drunk a bit too much, you and Takamura kis—

BAM. Kimura lands another punch against the bag before he could finish the thought. 

He needs to cool off, and he needs to get out of here because the more he stays in the gym, the more aware he is of Takamura’s presence and that alone pisses him off. It’s time to call it a day. So he peels off his gloves and heads to the shower. It’s a bit earlier than when he usually ends the day, but Kimura really just can’t stand it. The shower only does little to help soothe his temper, the cool water against his skin barely managing to calm him down. Though, at least once he’s dry and changed, he feels a bit fresher, less irate now that he’s out of his sweaty clothes.

Kimura bids his goodbyes, barely looking at his friends (Takamura especially) before rushing out the door, ready to head home, bury his face into his pillow, and wish he was in Takamura’s shoes instead.

“Ah, you’re early.”

Kimura looks down, shocked to find you right in front of him, hand stretched out to supposedly open the door. He swallows nervously, wide eyed as he takes in how stunning you look, hair done up neatly unlike your usual hairstyle and dressed in pretty clothes he hasn’t seen you in before. It’s almost as if you’ve got something special planned this evening— and right, your date with Takamura.

Kimura clicks his tongue, annoyed. “He’s inside if you’re looking for him,” he grumbles as he tries to move past you, wanting to leave before you unite with your date tonight.

You turn to look at him quizzically. “Uh… who?”

Kimura groans. “Takamura, of course, who else?” He snaps, stopping at his tracks with his back turned to you.

He shouldn’t be taking his anger out on you, not when you’re just as clueless as Takamura is in all this. But to make him spell out just how badly he fumbled this time was divine punishment.

There’s a short pause. “W… why would I be looking for Takamura? I came here for you.”

“What.”

“Yeah,” you say like it's obvious. “Like… You know… I thought maybe you’d be free tonight and we could hang out or whatever… I-I was thinking billiards and maybe we can go for drinks afterwards…”

Kimura stares at you dumbfounded, mouth hung wide agape as all of a sudden, a week’s worth of dread and frustration and sadness washes away and is quickly replaced with heat in his cheeks and pounding in his heart.

“What.” He repeats, stupidly.

“Yeah! You know… Like a date!”

Kimura’s never usually lucky with love, most of the time he finds himself dumped or ghosted or beaten by some other guy. But seeing the nervousness in your eyes with your hopeful expression as you wait for his answer, the way you've dressed up so pretty just for him tonight, made the effort to plan something for the two of you, suddenly Kimura Tatsuya is the luckiest man in the world.

[withlove-xixi]

ALSO WHAT HELLO HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERS WITHLOVE-XIXI NATION !@?#1

[withlove-xixi]

Can I request dating headcanons for Ezeral and Kayn (separately, if two is to much than just do Kayn) where reader is part of a music girl group with a witchy gothic style and reader has an adopted teen son?

— HEARTSTEEL!EZREAL + KAYN HEADCANONS: ezreal x reader + kayn x reader

ᥫ cw: none ★ RAHH HI ANON!! thanks so much for the request!! i know you asked for something sort of specific so i hope i got things right hehe :3!

ezreal, the popstar prince, dating a member from a goth girl group? far more likely than you'd think!

the news was certainly something that turned heads, had journalist after journalist calling your managers to schedule some sort of interview or get some sort of statement from you both. and while at first it was a little funny, something you and ez laughed about on dates, it's quickly grown annoying. especially since your son had been somewhat involved with all the drama

but dating ezreal had been a dream and he had been nothing sort of a sweetheart. he'll admit, at first things were... different from what he was used to, but different isn't always so bad. tho, it did take him a while to adjust to things (namely the aesthetic of your girl group, which he would never admit out loud, but it definitely intimidated him a bit) i think ezreal isn't the biggest fan of music outside the genres he typically listens to, but he's supportive nonetheless. he dresses up (or tries to at least) for your concerts, but usually ends up just wearing a black version of his usual outfits. and he's always using your group's music when he posts things on social media, tho it ends up looking a bit off because he'd post cute pictures like drinks and pastries from cafes he's visited to the most goth thing ever he's the type to go all out with being public about your relationship. when your group does livestreams on social media, ez is always lurking around the chat and sending silly messages. or he's always inviting you to do tiktok trends with him (not even the just the ones involving your respective groups, he' out there 's sitting on the passenger seat of the car filming you try some viral food)

he's the type to be .. a bit awkward around your son tho. at least just at first. or well.... its .... well, at least ez's less awkward around your kid. because at first he was skittish because 1. teenagers can be scary .. and 2. this might've been make or break with you so he wanted to be a bit more graceful with it. but he quickly learned that your so doesn't really care about this green-haired popstar that's always bringing you gifts and making up excuses to hang out with you. in fact, your son loves ezreal (mostly because ezreal thought the best way to get close to him was to spoil him just as much as he spoiled you lol)

it's nice dating ezreal, the highest of celebrity life mixed perfectly with the right amount of domesticity and simplicity. it's lavish dinners and expensive gifts paired with stealing each other's phones to post something embarrassing on the other's social media accounts and watching cheesy movies at home late at night. it's sweet, really. it's like all the pressure of keeping up a public image is gone, like you get to be yourself even when cameras are flashing left and right, all because ezreal's by your side.

people didn't quite expect you and kayn to get along, let alone date. it was a kayn issue mostly, given his rambunctiousness and his attitude. people were shocked that you seemed to have "tamed" this mad dog.

but surprisingly, you both got along really well, hit it right off the bat even. kayn's appreciation for all music and alternative style paired so nicely with your group's motif and your personal style. it was refreshing to say the least; no more rude comments from dates too conservative to see past black clothes and unconventional make-up, no more being criticized for being in a goth band. with kayn, it felt sort of calm in a strange way. he's unexpectedly a sympathetic man, he's always willing to step out of his comfort zone for your sake and always considering you in everything

kayn would be more private about your relationship, simply because he isnt the type to scream it out to the world. and honestly? you dont mind. it's a nice slice of privacy amidst the limelight and paparazzi. tho that doesnt mean you dont go out together, he takes you on dates where hes certain there wouldnt be too many people, like that one time when you first started dating him and he surprised you with a private dinner in some fancy restaurant (you didnt think these types of fancy places were his taste. and youre right because he stole this idea from yone)

however, there is the occasional slip up of showing up in each other's social media, like that one time you were live to promote your group's new album and kayn had walked into frame in just a towel because he had to ask you about something.

tho he was ... a bit ... harsh to your son at first. it was stupid, some stupid competition he had with your son for your attention because kayn is stupid like that. he used to beef wit your son a lot, teasing him and making fun of him, to which of course, your son, being a teenager, would always get back at him for. i can picture it so clearly ... kayn sniping your son's valorant lobby and just trolling him the whole game ... then your son getting back at him by ruining kayn's clothes. it was a short-ended rivalry tho because you've scolded them both. they're closer now, especially since they've learned they share a lot of similar interests. i think they'd play video games together and stuff. its nice.

kayn is fun, he's exciting. and its unexpectedly domestic with him, like when youre with him youre just another everyday person and so is he. it feels like a real relationship, one where you can come home to at the end of a long day to see comfy pajamas and take out food, the type of relationship celebrities dont normally have. its simple, something slow and calm in your busy lives. with kayn its cuddling under a warm blanket and sitting by the window to watch the rain, its working together on new music and picking out each other's clothes, its secretly going to each other's concerts and surprising each other backstage. it's like a whole new life, one you gladly get to share with kayn

[withlove-xixi]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #ㅤㅤCOWBOY BEBOP MASTERLIST !

★ NOTE: for nsfw/suggestive, minors dni !

the frost — spike spiegel x reader stupid cupid — spike spiegel x reader

[withlove-xixi]

— THE FROST: spike spiegel x reader

ᥫ cw: angst ᥫ wc: 964 ★ trying to slowly get back into writing now that ive had some free time :] and i choose to do so by tormenting some hot guy. cross posted on ao3

— SPIKE WAS A MAN OF LITTLE REGRETS.

[♡]: in all decisions he’s made in life, he has been proud of his choice. with all paths he’s taken in life, he’s accepted the trials and bumps that came along it. spike was a man of little regrets, and despite the irking weight in his chest, he does not regret loving you.

SMOKE FILLS HIS LUNGS, CLINGING ONTO HIS FLESH FOR DEAR LIFE, staining them in the sick scent of nicotine before being expelled in white puffs against the cold sea breeze. Spike hated nights like this, lonesome nights when sleeplessness plagued his entire being, when the Bebop was filled with only the sounds of silence and machinery. He hated nights like this because it left very little to occupy his mind, very little to stop the thoughts of you from flooding his every sense with warmth despite the biting chill of the late night.

He bites his cigarette, jaw clenching as his stomach churns with irk and gloom, as his heart pounds and his face heats at the mere idea of you.

It’s been months, eight months and seventeen days to be exact; eight months and seventeen days since he last saw you. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself be too attached to you, to keep himself from his usual attempts at flirting because he could tell just from the look of you that you were dangerous to him. It was something a man like Spike could tell, a man who lived on the constant edge of danger, a man who had hardened himself from love.

You two never even got together, which is what pisses Spike off the most. You were a passerby, a fleeting thought, one he had let linger in his life for far longer than he should’ve. What happened on those days in Ganymede, the nights spent sitting on the deck of the Bebop listening to you giggle as you ramble about your mundane life, the afternoons spent being dragged around by you as you excitedly showed him all your favorite places in the city, all memories he can’t seem to forget yet can’t bear to remember.

It was a strange feeling this one, yet another punishment from God to add to his already miserable life. On one hand, he can’t stand you, on the other, he can’t let you go. Spike knew it was because he felt the same as he did eight months ago, the same warmth that had bloomed in his chest lingered now as he reminisced the thought of you. 

It’s weird because he swears he’s over you. He knows he is. He’s accepted that you two could never truly be together (at least, never in the way either of you want), and he’s fine with it. Really, he is. Spike has long accepted your sweet time together as part of the list of many consequences of his actions he’s come to terms with, the list of many things that might’ve been regrets turned into stories told over a couple glasses of whiskey on the rocks and a bitter chuckle. Yet somehow, whatever he felt with you is still there, haunting him; a ghost from Ganymede that’s never left his side.

In all honesty, Spike is happy that you’re happy. And as much as it seems like some lie to tell himself when he’s tossing and turning in sheets that have the faint lingering scent of you, it isn’t. If he could, he’d turn back time to live through it all over again. If he could, he’d be flying his ass back to Ganymede and throwing himself in your arms. But he can’t. Whether now was simply the wrong time or if you were simply the wrong person was a blurry line Spike can’t differentiate at the moment. What mattered to Spike was that you were happy, and you were. He saw the way you smiled, cheeks tinted the same shade of pink when you were around him, giggling the same way you had when you were around him, even the lovesick tone of your voice was the same as when you were around him. He remembers distinctly the way his heart dropped, the way heat coursed through his veins, the way his chest tightened with heartache, the way that giddiness fluttered across his body.

There you were, standing with some other guy, smiling and talking to him the same way you used to with Spike, showing him all the places you had once taken him. And Spike can’t help but curse at himself for the seemingly self-destructiveness of pining over a person he let go, of that stupid love-filled feeling that melted with the complete and utter despair in his chest.

It drives him mad with self-inflicted guilt, because he’s the one that called things off between you two yet he’s hiding behind some corner spying on you because there’s a twang of jealousy and pain and yearning inside him. God, honestly, men.

At the end of the day, despite the tightness in his throat, the bile in his gut, and the urge to puke, he can’t seem to stop feeling this way for you, he can’t seem to stop loving you.

He takes another drag of his cigarette, ticked off because the Bebop is still docked on Ganymede, and all the places he can think of to go are the places you had taken him, all the things he wants to do are all the things you had done with him. He’s stuck burning through half a box of cigarettes in the common space of the Bebop, and even that feels like betraying you because you had hated when he smoked too much.

Whatever. It’s not like there’s much to do about it, and it isn’t like he necessarily has any regrets. So he keeps smoking, eyes shut as he tilts his head back, sinking into the well-worn couch as thoughts of you fill him with warmth and pain and joy and dread.

There’s just one thing that stays clear in Spike’s mind: he’s gonna carry this love for the rest of his life.

[withlove-xixi]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #ㅤㅤXIXI'S YUMESLOP MASTERLIST !

★ NOTE: this is all xixi's silly yumeship fics. i won't be mentioning my name an stuff however, so you could still read this as an x reader if u want (idrm tbh) but just .. dont be weird about it .. at the end of the day, its still intended to be xixi and their silly fictional boyfriends having fun silly times

summer showers — kimura tatusya