#WHY IS TUMBLR FUCKING WITH MY FORMAT
Text
gravity
Pairing: John Price x f!Reader
Rating: General audiences
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: LIKE CHILEAN MINERS (iykyk). I want to express a tidal wave of thanks to everyone for waiting so, so patiently for this chapter. Life got hard and is remaining so, but the kindness I have received has been so incredibly comforting. Please enjoy the longest chapter of Neighbors I have written to date. Also a HUGE shoutout to Lev @yeyinde as ALWAYS for her advice, the pub is a direct result of her guidance.
MASTERLIST
Now on Ao3!
It’s a cold and windy morning that, as you hover just a little closer to his warmth, you ask him about decent places to eat nearby.
“Fancy pub food?” he asks in response, and it takes you a moment to process what he’s said. Today he’s in a thick, soft-looking knit sweater, which makes it infinitely difficult not to imagine huddling up against him.
You think he’d let you. You’re not sure how you know this. Maybe it’s the way he positions himself next to you, standing at an angle toward you just slight enough to be casual, but open enough to be purposeful. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to warm you up with his eyes alone—he asked you once why you always bundled up to be outside, and you told him you were just sensitive to the cold.
Since then, you’ve often caught him checking on you, surreptitiously. Simple once-overs that you think are searching for evidence of discomfort.
What would he do, you wonder, if he found any? Would he send you inside, as he had the first morning?
Part of you thinks that would be better. It would give you an out, open up a path diverting away from whatever this thing is that hangs in the air between you and John Price, this thing that you pass back and forth between the pages of borrowed books.
It’s a thing that breathes with the both of you into the early morning, and you don’t know how to look at it. You don’t understand its shape. It’s a thing you wish you wanted to walk away from.
“Who doesn’t?” you reply, sipping at the cold dregs in your cup.
“How ‘bout tonight, then?” John says, and you swallow a little too quickly.
“W-what about tonight?”
He smiles at you, as if he’s thrown you off on purpose. “Dinner, on me.”
You blink several times. “You—I—I mean—really?”
He shrugs, easy and casual as you wish you could be. “Could show you what’s best on the menu. And I wouldn’t mind having dinner with someone besides m’self.”
You hesitate, because your gut reaction is to say yes, John, I’d like nothing more, and that is not a reaction you want to satisfy. These past several mornings have been nice—nicer than you could have expected. You’ve stopped interrogating yourself as to why you keep bothering, because each time his smile greets you as you step outside is answer enough. The routine has been easy to settle into, even comforting.
You need to protect that comfort, you know, even from the allure of something more.
John does not press for an answer, seeming content to savor the last few inhales of his cigar. You wonder if he’s guessed at your inner conflict, wonder if the quiet he’s giving you is an intentional moment to sort yourself out.
He never presses for anything, ever.
“I suppose I could meet you after work,” you finally say.
The smile that breaks across his face nearly knocks you off your feet. You’re relieved when he says, “Sounds good to me,” because if he’d said it’s a date you think you might have dissolved on the spot.
John texts you the pub’s address, and it’s close enough to walk to. You arrive that evening, in your usual two coats plus a knitted hat, to find that the place exceeds a set of expectations you didn’t know you had. The patio seating is closed in with a white picket fence and hung with strings of fairy lights, and it flanks a red brick building with a large, friendly lantern hanging over the door.
You might have expected something a little grubbier, if you’d given the place any more thought beyond this is John’s pub and he’s having me for dinner here.
Warm air envelops you as you step inside, and your gaze is drawn as if by a magnet to a table further in—John has already seen you, and beckons you over with a wave.
He’s still in the knit sweater, and his fleece jacket is hanging on the back of the seat across from him. He stands as you approach, rounds the table, and pulls that chair out for you when you join him.
You don’t know why the chivalry makes you falter, makes you want to turn and sprint all the way back home. All you know, as you sit down, is that you can practically feel the aura of his presence behind you as he helps push your chair in, can feel it move as he leaves your side to return to his seat. You feel yourself gravitate into it, leaning a little over the table as if trying to keep it close.
“This place is tidy,” you say earnestly, trying for that morning normalcy, as you begin to shuck your layers.
“It’s alright,” he agrees. He’s smiling gently, the cool blue of his eyes vivid in the contrast of warm lamplight.
“Do you—” and then you can’t help but giggle, because it’s such a cliche question “—do you come here often?”
He grins, huffs that little laugh. “Too often,” he says as he sits back in his chair, putting a hand on his stomach. “It’ll start showing soon, probably.”
You look at the flat of his stomach, the broad paw of his hand. Remember the trim waist of that very first morning. “You know, somehow I doubt that.”
He meets you eyes, laughs again, and it warms you to the bone.
Seeing him like this, at night, is an unknown quantity. The John you know how to interact with exists on his front doorstep, painted in the cool palette of sunrise, cold air, cigar smoke. This tableau, composed upon the table between you, might as well turn him into another man entirely. Who is this John, awash in warm light, nearly twelve hours older than the man you spoke to this morning? Who are you, now, seeing him after work and before the end of the night?
You feel a little untethered. Your feet still itch for the door, for the measured, predictable floorboards of your own home.
Maybe John notices, because he takes a menu from the stack of two at the end of the table and offers it to you with a reassuring lift of his brows. “Hungry?”
That question, at least, has an easy answer. You smile a little. “Starving.”
His advice turns out to be necessary—everything looks good, and you both end up ordering too much food. Over a spread of fresh, hot chips, halloumi kebabs, and katsu chicken served liberally with curry sauce, John also has a bottle of scotch brought to the table.
“No, that’s too much!” you protest as the waitress sets the decanter down with two clean glasses. “John, really.”
He sets to pouring, his expression pleased, though you’re not sure what about. “Humor me, love. I don’t get to share very often.”
He hands you a glass, and lifts his own above the food. You acquiesce, and clink the rims.
“Do I take a shot or a sip?” you ask, bringing the glass up to your mouth.
“A sip,” says John, and his expression is genuinely distressed. “Please, don’t ever suggest shooting scotch again. That hurt to hear.”
You smirk, and take a slow drink. It hits your tongue with the prologue to a burn, rolling across your taste buds as the twinge fades and you close your eyes. The flavor opens like smoke exhaled into still air; you purse your lips a little and swirl it in your mouth; nutmeg, vanilla, and even a little apple expand across your palate. When it hits the back of your tongue, a short floral burst surprises you, and you swallow it down eagerly.
You find John watching you when you open your eyes.
“Where did you learn to drink like that?” he asks, and there is a new tone in his voice that you’ve never heard before.
It’s low. Resonant. Almost—purring. The look in his eyes, too, is different, the pale blue sharper somehow. Focused keenly, and with some unknown, honed intent, on you.
It pins you where you sit. John is looking at you. John is seeing you.
“Doesn’t everyone learn to drink at uni?” you reply, trying for airy and light. It doesn’t work. Your voice trembles, just a bit.
He’s still watching you, and you think he sees that. Recognizes, perhaps, a change in your expression, some telltale sign that he has shaken you. He looks away from you, takes a drink of his own scotch, and when his gaze returns the keen edge of it has softened. You breathe, and realize you hadn’t been.
You seek something comfortable, something you can measure and control. “How is Actium treating you, then?”
He smiles, and it’s a little rueful. “Octavian’s being a cunt.”
As talk of the most recent book he’s borrowed carries you into more comfortable territory, the two of you make your way through dinner, which is every bit as delicious as John had promised. The food is hearty, greasy in a way that isn’t too heavy, and pairs perfectly with John’s scotch, which you indulge in liberally.
When the alcohol has outpaced the food that is meant to offset it, you think back to what he’d said earlier, about not often getting to share.
“So am I the first person you’ve brought here?” you ask. “Or do you take every neighbor out to dinner?”
John lifts one dark brow, leans in with a tilt of his head. “Only the pretty ones.”
You give an unladylike snort and swirl a cut of chicken around in curry sauce. “You’re incorrigible, John, really.”
The smile he gives crinkles the laugh lines around his eyes, and you feel yourself want to melt at the sight. It is unfair how handsome he is, in that warm sweater, in that golden light, haloed softly in the haze of your verging intoxication.
“When will you believe me when I compliment you, hmm?” he asks, low and resonant in the depths of his chest.
You shoot the rest of your scotch in answer, stuff the chicken into your mouth, and proffer the empty glass.
John squints at your heresy, but obediently pours.
“I suppose your line of work isn’t really great for your social life, then,” you comment. “Always coming and going.”
“My calendar’s certainly empty,” John agrees. “Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve sat down with someone like this. I suppose I’m out of practice.”
“You’re eating with a fork and knife and not your hands.” You grin. “I’d say that’s pretty good already.”
He smiles back. “Would that chase you off?”
You sip your scotch. “Not if you keep pouring.”
“And she complained when the bottle came out. What about you, then?”
“What ‘bout me?”
“How many blokes have you been to dinner with, lately?”
You scoff at that and wash your food down with a sip. “None. As if they’re throwin’ ‘emselves at me.”
John’s expression changes, and it’s slow grin that spreads across his face, a smile you have never seen on him before. It isn’t the sad smile he’s given you at times, melancholy and resigned; nor is it the one he gives when he sees you in the morning, warm and soft and friendly.
No, this one is—energized. Invigorated. As if someone has given him good news he hadn’t been expecting.
“They’ve got to be,” he says, and his tone is humorous. “You must have your pick of the lot. And none of them have struck your fancy?”
You press your hands to your too-warm face. “John, don’t tease me.”
“Seems I’ve got to count myself lucky tonight, then,” he continues, leaning his elbows on the table. “If you’re as choosy as all that.”
You give him a droll look, and swirl your drink around in your glass. “If you must know, I got out of a relationship not long ago.”
John’s brows lift, and you want to smack yourself for letting that little detail escape you. “Is that so?”
You drink. “That is so.”
“What kind of idiot would let you get away?”
“My head is already spinning, and you’re abusing that,” you protest.
“Sorry, love,” he says, clearly not sorry. “But now you’ve got me curious.”
You sit back in your chair, staring at your plate to avoid his gaze. “I’m afraid it’s not all that dramatic. It just…didn’t feel right. I guess he liked me more than I liked him. We would go out, and I would think, ‘I want to leave him and go home.’”
And you still felt guilty about it. You hadn’t liked him that much in the first place, when he’d asked you out—you’d just said yes, because it seemed like the right moment in your life for something like that to happen. When you’d ended it, your extended social network had scratched its collective head, because there truly hadn’t been any good reason.
You just weren’t happy.
“Suppose I didn’t give it enough of a chance,” you say, downing the last of your glass.
“Hey,” John says, soft and gentle. You look up to meet his eyes—the expression on his face is a mixture of sympathy and resolution. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Sure, John.”
“Love.” His brow creases, insistent. “You deserve something you want.”
You press your lips together tightly, and suddenly you’re struck again with that sensation from earlier, that feeling that John’s presence is a tangible aura, something that rolls and settles across your awareness like a physical touch. You realize you’ve been leaning into it again, drawn toward him like a comet into the snag of a planet’s gravity.
“I’m definitely drunk now,” you say, because the only other words that want to come out are an emphatic I want you.
John smiles. He doesn’t press the issue. “Will I be carrying you home, then?”
“Oh, John, really!” You give a scoff, surprised at the sudden humor. “You couldn’t carry me all that way.”
One dark brow lifts.
“No,” you say. “You’ll have to put me down. I’m not light.”
The smile remains.
You hold his gaze, suspicious, and finish the last of your glass. It does not take long to polish off the last of dinner, and when the two of you agree that the last chips have finally gotten too cold to eat, John pushes his seat back and stands.
“Done, then? I’ll settle the tab. Love, put that away.”
You sheepishly lower your half-lifted wallet back into your purse.
Accounts settled, you make it outside the pub, and then you have to lean against a wall as John watches you, amused. The world is swaying, its pendulum arcing near-horizontal at the amplitude of each swing.
“I just need a minute,” you whisper.
John does the worst thing he could possibly do—he gives you his back and kneels down, arms a little open. “Come on.”
“Come on? Come off it, John, really, you’ll drop me!” you exclaim.
He looks over his shoulder at you. “I won’t.”
You don’t know what convinces you to do it. Tomorrow, you’ll blame the many glasses of expensive scotch, but in the moment you know it’s the way the hanging lights limn his silhouette in gold. You know it’s the soft expression on his face that you are already too fond of. You know it’s the quiet confidence in his reassurance, and above all those things it’s the familiar comfort of his kind blue eyes.
“All right, John,” you say.
As you wrap your arms around his shoulders, John scoops your knees up into the bend of his arms, and you can add now the feeling of his strength to your mental registry of his body. He is broad against you, the width of him obliging your thighs to part farther than they have in a long, long time.
It brings a heat to your face that dwarfs the low simmer of your inebriation. When he lifts you, straightens up and hoists you a little on his back, like you weigh almost nothing, you are unable now to shove back and contain what he has inspired since that first morning.
“This feels nice,” you murmur, tucking your chin on his shoulder. The scotch has the reins of your tongue now. There is no stopping the words that come out. “I wondered if it would. This morning.”
John’s reply is low, humming in his throat as he begins the trek home. “This morning?”
You breathe. “You always look warm and soft. You’re so handsome every morning. Even the first. I wanted to touch you back then. I wanted you to hold me.”
He doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s trying to focus on the walk back and not dropping you in the middle of it. He hoists you a little, cupping his hands beneath your knees, squeezing.
His silence prompts more of your honesty. “I don’t want to go to dinner with anyone else, John. Even if someone did ask. You’re the only one.”
“You’re drunk, love,” John says. You don’t recognize the tone of his voice, why it sounds…pleading.
Your face is very close to his, your chin pillowed in the fleece lining of his collar. You resolve fully to blame what you do next on the scotch, and touch the tips of your fingers to the coarse umber on his cheek.
His thumbs press into the divots beneath your kneecaps. John says your name, low and breathy. It must be the strain of carrying you that shows in his voice.
You lean in. You press your cheek against the bristles of his beard, inhale, take in the ever-present Maduro that saturates his skin. The friction is a million little pinpricks of sensation, and you think in that moment that if his beard doesn’t leave hot, welted scratches on your face, you might fall asleep crying.
“Oh,” you murmur, not recognizing the languorous, almost wanton sound of your own voice. “Feels good, John.”
“That’s,” he huffs, and audibly swallows. “That’s good. We’re—ah—we’re almost there.”
“Okay,” you say, sighing against him, settling fully into the expanse of his back.
You doze, unburdened now by what you’ve admitted. He does not waver once on the walk, makes no complaint of your weight as street lights pass and the night moves slowly by. He is as steady, when he makes it to your front door, as he was when he first picked you up.
“Where’s your key, love?” he asks.
“Oh,” you murmur blearily, “um. Let me down.”
Even after your feet are back on the ground, his steadying hand does not leave you, ballasting your elbow as you dig around in your purse. It seems like an embarrassingly long time before you find your keychain, and when you try to unlock your door you miss the slot twice.
John’s big hand wraps around yours then, engulfing it with long fingers and broad palm, and guides the key steadily into the lock. The slide of the deadbolt is loud in the quiet night. You have to lean against the door, suddenly devoid of the strength to turn the knob as you look up at John’s concerned face.
“Let me help you in, love,” he says, brow creased. “Please. I’m worried you’ll fall and hit your head.”
Your entire body feels like it’s sinking into a glass of champagne, his words caressing you like rising bubbles, little pearls of air tickling your face as they touch you. You openly stare at him, watch his throat work as he swallows again, rest your eyes along the broad tendon that flexes as he tilts his head.
“Sure,” you whisper, too out of breath to speak aloud. “If that’s what you want.”
So John turns the knob, loops your arm around his shoulders, and walks you inside.
It is very hard to focus now, as John sits you down on your couch. There isn’t much you can hold in your mind besides the moment his hands leave you, and you inexplicably want to cry at their loss. You don’t see where he goes, vision going dark and blurry around the edges—you think he might have left until he comes back with one of your glasses, filled with clear, cool water.
He kneels in front of you and proffers it, doesn’t let go of the glass until both your hands are wrapped around it. He watches you as you take a sip.
“Drink all of that, alright?” he says. “You had a lot.”
You hold the glass back out to him. “You did too.”
His brows lift, lips parting. Have you surprised him? He pulls the glass closer with a little tug, puts his lips to the rim and tilts it from the bottom as you hold it. His eyes do not leave yours as he drinks, as he takes only a little, and then he pulls away and gently pushes the glass back toward you. Your gaze falls from his eyes, down to the little droplets of water clinging to his mustache, down again to the steady line of his mouth.
You bring the glass back up and take a deep gulp.
“Good girl,” he says, low and rumbling, and heat floods your body.
You realize then that his other hand is on your knee, the weight of his palm heavy and broad, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle into the edge of the cap. You are washed in the blend of his warm comfort and the sudden, almost violent sear of your own desire.
When the glass is empty, he eases it from your hands and sets it aside on your coffee table. When he turns back to you, your hand comes up, unbidden, to curve itself along the angle of his jaw. Umber bristles are coarse beneath the sweep of your thumb.
“Not soft, is it?” John murmurs, and there is something stormy and intense in his gaze.
You take a deep breath. “Maybe I’m okay with that.”
His hand grips your knee suddenly, vicelike, and you know this is pushing too far. He does not lean in to you, makes no move toward you, but his entire body is a bank of energy that he is holding, holding, holding back. His chest rises and falls rapidly. His eyes pin you to the couch as he works the muscles in his jaw.
“You’re drunk, love,” he says. It is not the pleading assertion he’d given earlier. It is a conclusion—fond, but resigned.
The room has begun to gently spin, with John at its axis. “I’m drunk,” you agree, whispering and fragile.
It breaks whatever has been building since you’d left the pub. John draws back. Nods. Gives you a smile—that smile. The one that had taken hold of you the first time you saw it. Trying, with every scrap of willpower it had, to be happy, to be alright with what little it had. Failing to do so.
Unable to hide how much it wanted.
“You got a spare key?” he asks. “I can lock you in.”
“Key hook,” you say.
His hand drags down from your knee to stroke along your shin, and then he’s rocking back on his heels, standing to his full height. He looks at you for a moment longer.
“Get some sleep,” he says.
When you blink, he’s gone, and the deadbolt is sliding home.
Bonus A/N: Some housekeeping.
First, if you see your username on this list and it's struck through, it means you did not come up when I tried to @ you. I will try one more time, but if it doesn't work I'm taking your name off the list. Get right with the tumblr gods if you can.
Second, a few people have told me that they did not get the tag notification on the last update, so let me know if that's the case for you and I will see about trying a different format.
And third, I've been editing the format for neighbors across all chapters, so sorry in advance if you get notified twice. Tumblr knows even less about coding a website than I do.
Taglist: @yeyinde @guyfieriiii @aduckingpain @jaimiespn @aconstructofamind @trashy-panda777 @lich1 @smoggyfogbottom @cielobgers @antigonusyuki @bubble-dream-inc @monsterhighsblog @so-scarlet–it-was-maroon @itsthetiredstudent @misshoneypaper @wasteland-babe @jxvipike @deadbranch @mildlyhopelesss @yes-music-is-my-religion @shuttlelauncher81 @xback1021 @zero-ice @hailstrum18 @ramadiiiisme @glassgulls @simonea27 @kitty-satan1 @tianotfound @solarslushee @mmmothballz @wiserebelpartypie @randomchick546 @stripeycatt @shurikan17 @staymetalmacie @capt-soaps-bbg @cold-blooded-girls @rdeville
The taglist is closed. Thank you everyone for your interest.
#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price x you#captain john price x reader#price x reader#price x you#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod fanfic#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#mwii#call of duty mwii#cod mw2 fanfic#cod:mw2#cod mw22#cod mwii#neighbors au#og post#honest to god i'm not sure about this one. struggled with the balance lmao#WHY IS TUMBLR FUCKING WITH MY FORMAT
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my dear,
my perfect darling
my love, my one and only
my yellow tulip.
i have picked up a small case, watson.
what is it?
i’m buying you some
diphylleia.
something trivial,
nothing to interest you.
i’ll be going out
to look at some flowers.
what for, holmes?
i hold you in my deepest
mauve carnations.
i believe i will
find some clues
there.
why haven’t i heard of this case?
it doesn’t exist
i am lying
i am making you a
a mulberry
i didn’t think it would
interest you, watson.
hmm. well, you must tell me about it later.
i cannot
you would hate me
i cannot bear that
a daffodil.
of course.
what particularly about flowers?
shit shit shit shit
a purple hyacinth.
flower language.
hmm.
he knows he knows he
cannot know how would he
clovenlip toadflax.
mm. i will see you.
don’t be late for dinner.
#johnlock#holmeswatson#h/w#john watson#sherlock holmes#poetry#storytelling#flower language#unrequited love#possibly unrequited love#acd johnlock#victorian johnlock#why am i tagging this like it's ao3#i might post it there actually#if you want to know the flower meanings they're on wikipedia#yellow tulip#diphylleia#mauve carnations#mulberry#daffodil#purple hyacinth#clovenlip toadflax#<- all of the flowers mentioned#have fun <3#vanny writes poetry and songs for her own enjoyment#TUMBLR STOP FUCKING UP MY POEM FORMAT CHALLENGE
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My Personal TIMKON Recs List
i made this for my friend recently and thought i’d share it here because you tumblr bitches love pain and little gay dudes (just like me fr)
all of these have good young justice, batfam and superfam (though sometimes it’s minimal) representation (because i don’t read them if they don’t have good rep, sue me). Plus Tim and Kon personality and character accuracy, obviously.
Also these are all Ao3 recs because i like to consider myself as not a heathen
Funk Ass
- sun kissed by merils
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48882055
beach episode, queer young justice fr fr, Kon rep is off the charts (ashgs quite possibly the conner rep of all time, just the phrases he uses /$)/ so real!!)
- Baby Talk Me Down (Take Me Out) by sage (lemontongues)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384345
ahhhsh this one is unfinished but i desperately wish it was, either way great fic and great character rep + conner civvy life insights
- Out of The Frying Pan, Into the Casserole Dish By JpegdotJpeg
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41005416
martha kent (& the superfam!) is the best person ever, plus tim is the most autistic little dude (we love him sm)
Haven’t finished but amazing rep/haven’t read yet but plan to
- Robins and other flightless birds by Ionaperidot
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607170
ahsgshsh this one qualifies for [literally kill yourself after reading (pain)]category but i put it here just cause :-| uhh BW adopts fucked up kids good for him: JJ!tim, Catatonic!jason COA!dick etc
- Straight on ‘til morning by merils
https://archiveofourown.org/works/43401684
haven’t read this one yet but i’ve heard really good stuff about it! plus good kon character development/ exploration (from what i’ve heard)
- there you were by mindshelter
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25599205
the blorbos deserve pain, don’t you agree? (i haven’t read this one in a hot minute and have forgotten what it’s about but i remember it being good)
- Buy Back the Secrets by sundiscus
https://archiveofourown.org/works/43137879/chapters/108412977
okay no this one LITERALLY AHSGGSGS bro just read it, uhh civvy tim and superboy interactions, 5+1 things, good sibling Jason (a rarity unfortunately), funny ass dialogue
sexy times (good for them)
disclaimer! none of these fics are like solely focused on smut, but that plays a large ish role thats why they’re in this category
- take me to the airport (call me from the platform) by Hayleythewriter
https://archiveofourown.org/works/47970586/chapters/120950194
This has an idiots to lovers tag…there’s not much more to say. except for great sibling relationship portrayal of Damian and Tim that doesn’t involve murder attempts Yay!! (DC wouldn’t even dream of it)
- What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32850109
Stupidest bitches alive fr (mostly tim) + Cassie Sandsmark being a bitch, we love to see it! and and and it has an interesting subplot/s so woowoo, also minor Birdflash👀
- Scions by winterlive
https://archiveofourown.org/works/375897
Conner Luthor is a bitch and i love him + lex luthor is a good dad WHAT!?! oh HA and Clex which is soo good.This was honestly one of my favourites sheerly because of good character representation and BW not being a terrible father
- Trust Fall by Ididloveyou_once
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31654376
Again good sibling rep between all of the batboys, mostly Damian and Tim tho YAY! (it’s seriously a rarity do not take it for granted)
Literally kill yourself after reading these (Pain)
- when your bf hits the street and turns into meat that’s amore by CarrionCarnival
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40318824
self explanatory title, heavy gore :loved it, literally my favourite fic on this list (i adore gore what can i say)
- You are Shaking Fists and Trembling Teeth by Bored_Liege_bow
https://archiveofourown.org/works/47679967
implied TimKon, aftermath of conners death Rip timothy d-w
- my dear devoted delicate by blenderfullasarcasm
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48556555
pushing daisies au, sad af + good exploration of loss on tim’s part through his life
#timkon#tim drake#kon el#conner kent#superfam#batfam#dc#dc comics#superboy#red robin#oh my god the formatting for this fucking post almost killed me aha#i guess my suffering is deserved for having timkon / the batfam as my hyperfixation since march this year#but seriously if you ever plan on to make one of these fuckers and post it DO NOT make it in the apple notes app#just to transfer it to whatsapp and have to re format the entire thing#only to transfer said new format to tumblr where you have to do that all again#just dont#also why was one of my main thoughts while making this :#i wonder if people will be able to tell how autistic i am from this?#anyway here you losers go :)#my suffering is your gain
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Let it be known that I love writing fluff, and I listen to character audios sometimes. SO! I came up with a cute idea for sagau imposter au. I heard somewhere that Xiao's adeptus form is a bird, so I wonder, what kind of bird? And that got me thinking. Xiao being a little song bird, or perhaps even a cardinal.
Now imagine: while looking for the imposter, Xiao stumbles upon them sitting beneath a tree, just feeding some birds. Said birds are absolutely loving the attention since the creator of Teyvat is giving them food and love!
Xiao watches, rather curious. The creator he knows hates birds, because they always dive and cause problems for them. But now... these little birds have completely abandoned any fear they may hold for human beings, happily landing on the hands and shoulders of this supposed imposter.
So he decides to test something.
Xiao turns into a small bird and approaches cautiously. In his smaller form, he's vulnerable to attack. But the person before him doesn't try to hurt him. Rather, they smile and call him "little friend" as they offer food to him. In his distrust, he bites them with his sharp beak.
His heart shatters when he sees divine blood spilling from the wound.
He's about to fly away, get as far away from here as he can. He found the true creator, and instead of worshipping them, he bit them! He caused them to bleed, he shouldn't even be near them-!
His mind stills when they pet his feathered head.
They murmur kind words to him, apologizing to him. They believed that they had startled him, that he bit to protect himself. They forgave him, they felt no hatred towards him, no anger or disappointment. Instead, they offered some chopped almonds, hoping he'd prefer that over bird seed.
He sang for them as he perched on their shoulder.
After that, he did his best to secretly protect the creator he'd harmed. He would adopt his smaller form and sing for them when they felt sad, and he'd use his human form to guard them from a distance. Yes, it made his chest ache whenever they looked at him with fear when they saw his more human form, but the yaksha only shook it off. It only made sense that you'd be scared. He was a frightening person, one that had tried to harm you before. He refused to try and change your feelings towards him. He didn't have the right.
He would be content to sing for you as a harmless bird.
-sibling anon (sorry if this is out of character for him I just like the idea)
oh….. he’s so soft…..
xiao hovering near the edge of the crowd, at first, drawing your attention since he doesn’t seem to be eating any of the seed you’d passed out.
when he finally hops within arms reach, you reach to nudge some of the food next to him closer, only to quickly whip your hand back. the birds around (on) you all flutter at the sudden movement, but you inspect your finger, the blue blood of teyvat welling up. your instinct is to stick it in your mouth, but that doesn’t seem safe considering a bird bit it, so you dab at it with a napkin.
the bird cries and flaps his wings, distraught, and your heart hurts. poor guy, you probably scared him, moving so quickly.
you pull out some chopped almonds from your pocket. the plan was to have them as a snack, but now… you put a few in your palm and close your hand around it, reaching forward to gently run two fingers over the birds back.
the other birds in the area seemed receptive to that, and this one does too, calming down considerably.
you take your hand back, opening your palm to drop the almonds on the floor, nudging them close before backing off.
“there you go,” you murmur, as the bird dips down to inspect the food. “i won’t hurt you.”
you allow yourself a silent cheer when it eats one of the almond pieces.
you see the small bird fluttering around you often, always on the edge of your vision. it’s easy to identify, the purple patch of feathers on its forehead easily standing out, and you’re always certain to push some food over to it. almonds, not birdseed.
the bird is a dark blue-teal, the underside of its wings a softer blue. it’s like no other bird you’ve seen in liyue, something that quickly catches your attention.
you brush some dirt off you as you stand, noting the way the bird immediately looks up from its food, unlike the others, to flap up into the tree you were sitting under.
you crack a smile, carefully reaching a finger for it. you’re slower this time, cautious of its skittish nature, but it lets you approach. when you carefully pet over its head, the birds eyes close.
your smile grows, and you try not to laugh at how confused the bird seems when you pull your hand away.
“i have to go,” you explain. “the millelith… they’re getting too close again. i won’t be able to see you again, little friend.”
the bird chirps, nearly indignant, and you do laugh this time. putting a small piece of almond on the branch in front of it, you wave goodbye to the other birds, seeing the blue one hadn’t touched the almond.
you frown. hopefully it’ll be alright….
xiao watches you until you’re out of sight, and even then, he stays on the branch.
you…. he’d forgotten you were being hunted by the millelith. he’d forgotten the order to look out for you. he’d forgotten the qixing called you a criminal.
who could blame him? it was easy to forget everything at your side, when you carefully ran your fingers over his feathers, scratching at his jaw with the edge of your nail. yes, he was vulnerable as a bird, but it was easy to be vulnerable with you. it was easy to be open, to sing as best he could in this form, to allow himself close enough to see the way your eyes lit up whenever another bird landed on your outstretched finger.
xiao dropped to the ground, morphing back into his
human form. predictably, the birds cawed and flew
away quickly. he watched them go, his mind
contrasting it with how readily they flocked to you.
you…
he turned to the branch he was on, to the small almond piece left behind. the small symbol of your care, of how you recognized that he didn’t touch the birdseed and instead offered him your own food to eat. normally he wouldn’t lower himself to eating off the ground at all, let along bird food, but almonds weren’t awful and you seemed so happy when he ate..
xiao looked back to where you’d gone, to the sandbearer trees swaying in a soft wind.
he allowed his form to fall away and spread his wings, taking flight on the same breeze that urged you along.
perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little while longer, if it meant he could spend that time with you.
perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little longer, if it meant he’d get to spend that time with you.
#m1d : [chats]#m1d : [secrets]#sibling anon#bird!xiao shenanigans#btw he’s pretty in character#you can add a dash of a ‘mysterious calm in the air’ if you wanna be certain but he’s oretty pretty good as is#also! let it be known that i too like fluff!!#< been meaning to write a piece based on hugs ppl would give for a while now#dilucs near the top of the list which is kinda funny considering the shit i’m (hopefully) gonna pot tonight#post* whoop#post-valentines day sadness#this got WAY too long#forgive the old format i wasn’t gonna try n find more photos of liyue than i already have#writing this was hell. thanks tumblr. i really appreciate you glitching out my drafts.#i’m trying to save my writer energy to wrap up dilucs piece COME ON I DONT NEED THIS#had to write this on the website version of tumblr ugh. dislike.#anyway debating adding this to the masterlist bc it’s… so nice…#the vibes….. immaculate….#TUMBLR DELETED HALF MY FUCKING WRITING WHEN IT HIT POST WHAT THE FUCK#THIS IS WHY I WRITE ELSEWHERE THEN COPY PASTE TO THIS HELL#FUCK. IT WAS SO GOOD. WHY.#the last half of xiao’s part at the end is the bad shittier version of what i had written originally#i am bitter. but i guess i’ll have to die mad abt it.#ugh.#it cut off the last paragraph AGAIN WHY#hate. >:(#also mushroom anon send help one of my mutuals is doing a letter event in celebration of his 1k what do i do#ok it’s his 800 celebration but STILL HELP#whatever fuck it i’m done trying to get this to work#fuck it we ball
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#alan wake 2#alan wake#ilkka villi#let's try this again#formatting got messed up somehow? frickin tumblr#but legit have never recorded my own footage for a game or taken so many screenshots#i've giffed video games before but this is just different#mk.gifs#mk.edit#alanwakeedit#awedit#i think i fucked up the dimensions when i giffed this and that's why it's all wonky#mk.op
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SWEET BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS!!
(ch 236 spoiler below)
this is foul but I couldn't resist 🚪🏃♂️💨💨
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk spoilers#jjk chapter 236#jjk ch 236#jjk gojo#HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRINCESS#hes so beautiful#i love him so much#my babygirl#my wife#why does tumblr keep fucking up the formatting im going to cry
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Azriel scowls lightly at himself. He had no claim to protect you and further more, most Illyrian males like yourself would take great amounts of offence to the mere insinuation. He knows that you are more than capable.
He steals another glance at your peaceful, sleeping figure and his shadows seem to quieten in response— at least about you. The whispers don't ever truly quieten.
Azriel's fairy certain where they're getting their ideas. It's what he wonders too as he takes in your battered face once more—whether it’s the truth or just his familiar brand of desperate hope.
Something that would explain the urge to protect beyond reason.
Something like… a bond forged in starlight.
excerpt from chapter 5 of whom the shadows sing for <3 she just needs a little edit so keep your eyes peeled in the next couple days!
#i shud strike tumblr down where it stands for messing with my formatting#like mf we both know i can indent a whole couple paragraphs without splitting up the line! look at last time !#😭#whom the shadows sing for (and the thief’s echoing hymn)#whom the shadows sings for#azriel#sloane speaks#i’m gonna strangle tumblr honestly why the fuck is my editing screen diff from the POST let me FIX the stupid EXTRA LINE U PUT IN THERE 😭😭😭
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Fluorescents
I want to kiss you softly under fluorescent lights
the darkness and the warmth of a twin sized bed
Soft skin and soft lips and your body heat
in my arms and my legs and my teeth
#poetry#love#passion#amateur poetry#shitty formatting#why can't I change my own damn spacing#this is bs I'm not doing MLA format here#I doubt any Tumblr User has ever really used MLA#much less Double Spacing anywhere else#cause it's fucking dumb#w/e#enjoy
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Te’an Trea - the ancient language
In the world of my story, or rather in one of its realms, there’s an ancient language called Te’an Trea - the language of trees.
Like the name says, Te’an trea is inspired by the “language” of the trees, the whispering of the wind as it dances through their leaves.
Legend says that the trees themselves taught the people how to speak their language. Of course, the trees make sounds that people could never pronounce, so the language can be seen as an interpretation of their song.
It’s not actively spoken, not anymore, at least. Way back it was a quite common language, with many people understanding or speaking it, either as their first or second language.
The wild fae folk was fond of the language especially. They already knew it before the fair fae even existed, so it’s not surprising. Many of their clans still teach the ancient language.
However, nowadays it is only used for magical and/or religious purposes, as well as poetry. Priests are among the few fae that still learn to speak the language and some people study it at the Keeper temples but it’s become a quite rare tongue.
Rare, but never truly forgotten. The fae still use some of the ancient language’s words in their daily life and talking. Their months, feasts and seasons for example are still referred to by their ancient words. Old terms of endearment are still quite popular, as well as some honorifics.
And, of course, prayers and little spells. You could pretty much call Te’an Trea a spiritual language in these days. Both fair and wild fae use it and treat it and the people who speak it with great respect.
Something that is connected to the old language and still quite common nowadays are runes. Many important words of Te’an Trea also have a rune, a symbol that holds a certain meaning -and a certain power.
They’re still taught. Rune reading is considered a religious practice as well as a fun activity. Also, the fae carve runes into their weapons and other important things to bless them or give them a certain kind of protection/power.
Here are some words in Te’an Trea that are still quite relevant:
ahnra - Soul
an’dra - Nature
a’laen - Child
criah - Heart
dhaia - Goddess
dha’ir - God-Chosen
di’ann - Folk
fhlira - Flower
fiah’sghea - Wild Hunt
fio’sheal - Seer
gheal - Moon
ghir’nan - Stars
ghri’an - Sun
m’haistir - Teacher
soira - Mind
trea - Tree
thal - Earth
Bonus: An’laen and Tre’laen = old names for wild and fair fae. An’laen basically means “children of nature” while Tre’laen means “children of (the) trees”
*
tag list: @andifthestarsweretodie @bloodlessheirbyjacques @bluehourskyeli @charleeyy @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @gr3y-heron @justafrogandherumbrella @jessica-writes22 @ladywithalamp @magic-is-something-we-create @marrowwife @myhusbandsasemni @my-cursed-prince @phantasticdomains @rhikasa @saltysupercomputer @sleepy-night-child @soupopoireau @thegirlwithnonickname @thewalkingnerd @vampywriter @vsnotresponding @writing-is-a-martial-art (if you want to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!)
#don’t ask me why the firmst of this post is so fucked up tumblr really wanted to give me a hard time with this one#*i meant format god damn tumblr#but anyway here’s the little info post about the ancient fae language#or rather ancient tree language since it’s older than some fae folks#making up these words was fun but kinda tricky not gonna lie#these are all the ones I thought might be important. I’ll add on to this list later if words are needed#writer speaks#writeblr#wip: the knights of the alder#writing#my writing#worldbuilding
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had a dream I called the Danish emergency services (I was in Denmark) and they hung up on me :(
#was trying to tell them about leads i found in a murder#i also dreamed I had my hair cut and the hairdresser cut it way too long#(different dream)#also I kept biking to some church that doesn’t exist irl. not sure what i was doing there. going to concerts i think?#i am not religious never have been#was wearing my winter coat and a wool hat and embarrassed i was wearing that much so early in the year#even though it was cold as balls in the dream#also my bike had two really big lamps#but only one of them worked. or. so i assumed. didn’t actually try#OH and then i dreamed manda was recommended a random funny facebook post about one of my family members with like 900 likes#and sent it to me because it was funny also not realising it was my family member#creeped dream me out to hell and back#anyway big night for dreams idk why i’m using tumblr as my dream journal felt important#don’t usually dream this much/vividly/remember all of them at all#i did wake up in mis murder mystery dream though so maybe that’s why#oh yeah the murder mystery dream was like fucking. point and click video game format. i was walking around the apartment where the murder#happened just poking around shit until i found 3 leads which was my. goal? and then i called the police#and actually at first i accidentally called the swedish police. i forgot to put the danish country code in front of the number. so i hung up#on them and called the danish police instead#i’m not sure that’s how it actually works#like idk if you need the country code or if your phone will recognise what country you’re in i feel like it’s the latter#also the cell coverage was really bad so i heard like half of. what the emergency responder was saying#z talks#not horse game#sso spoilers#WILD FUCKING NIGHT IM GONNA GO BACK TO SLEEP NOW
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if you had to do present luke to someone who has never heard of him before, which pictures, videos and songs are you choosing?
oh wow. what a question! it's one i do think about quite a bit though, and realistically it would depend on the person i'm introducing him to. content specifically catered to their interests <3 however! there are definitely some common things i'd probably rely on in most cases.
songs:
so obviously all of wfttwtaf would be ideal but if we're picking and choosing i'd probably choose a few that represent some different vibes and showcase his songwriting, so maybe starting line, place in me and baby blue. possibly slip away too just because i think that's one of the best overall examples of his songwriting + his brain + his voice.
and in terms of 5sos songs, again i'd choose a range to show off his vocal range and a bit of songwriting as well. i'm thinking take my hand, caramel, moodswings, lover of mine, not in the same way, kill my time, youngblood (as if anyone has not heard this song) and no shame.
videos:
(i do have specific reasons for all of these but i really doubt you want me to write an essay.)
baby blue visualizer (c'mon i had to)
easier mv
teeth live
motion live performance (look at him multitasking! 🤩)
place in me live from the studio
cocktail chats
the entire 5sos5 show (yes i am holding this person hostage)
making of 5sos5 doc
wfttwtaf doc part 1 and part 2
tmh north america tour diary
the makeup tiktok
getting his album tiktok
luke on tour
bopping and dancing and jogging for coffee
cake insta live compilation (i guess i won't force them to watch the whole thing)
this tmh tour compilation
this :)
pics:
perhaps the hardest part sigh. narrowing it down is so hard. there are reasons for these too, and they're not necessarily my favorites (although many of them are), just...showing his range. (and tumblr HATES formatting pics in asks so i apologize in advance for how ugly this will probably be.)
#the challenging thing is that if i don't know who i'm dealing with#i personally think literally everything is worth sharing#i'm a luke hemmings scholar why can this not be my full time job#ask#anon#luke hemmings#literally WHY does tumblr desktop never show formatted photos in asks#it looks right in the editor#but as soon as it's on your dash it's like nah#but it looks fine on mobile#i don't UNDERSTAND#also i keep editing parts of this post and saving them but they don't save asldfjdslkjf#who the fuck knows what will end up in the posted version
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The horse hero design I once made for my highschool classmate now turned full OC.
I will now ramble about the design choices
Her costume is supposed to be leather and has these tassel(?) thingies cowboys have like this
And they are also specificly inspired by this scene from Megamind
It was just too cool to pass
She has a mohawk to look like a horse's mane and carries a whip tied around her waist which is supposed to look like a horse tail.
The only thing missing from her design is the horse miraculous which are glasses but I thought they would look lame so we are ignoring that detail.
I imagine her to be more of an antihero, a hero who was once good and began to question the order of the miraculous and started to adopt grey morals, kinda like Argos I guess. I thought she looked too much like a badass to be a goody-two-shoes hero.
#mlb#miraculous ladybug#ml#mlb fanart#miraculous ladybug fanart#art#my art#mlb ocs#digital art#ugh getting this post out was a goddamn struggle I will tell you#drawing was easy enough but why was painting this such a chore???#I am just not good enough at it yet I guess#but anyway I like this design and I decided it has to LIVE#this is my second time posting this because tumblr just fucked with the formatting of it so much I deleted it#trying again
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this formatting is awful but whatever lmao 😵💫 i literally started doing these end of april 2022 ,,,,,,, but ig we’re finally here LOL
my fearless tv lyric lettering :DD
#taylor swift#red taylor’s version#AHHHH me both times i've done this: WHY am i doing this i dont have enough ideas#me as im doing it/when im done /listening to other music: omg i wanna do this album#anyway i kinda wanna do a non taylor album ehehehehe#cant think of more tags rn i should go to sleep sdhfgfgdbjfdvndfj#am home for break so my parents gonna be like y were u up so late and im like uhhhhhh#formatting shit in a tumblr post for like 3 ppl to see <3#i rly hate this formatting#i did it and then came on fucking desktop posting and it said u can have 30 image files and i was like HUH#and went on mobile and it was still 10#and i didnt' feel like getting the images onto my laptop and/or getting them in order in the post editor so#this is what it is ahaha
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lewis appreciation weeks ✰ week one: colour
[lewis + blue, white, pink & I’M THAT GIRL by Beyoncé]
from the top of the mornin', I shine
right through the blinds
touching everything in my plain view
and everything next to me gets lit up too
#lewisappreciationweeks#lewis hamilton#f1#f1edit#formula one#nico.edit#so. this took me WAY longer than i thought it would which actually always happens with edits#cause i don't make them often i'm more of a gifs kind of guy so i never know what to expect when i make edits :sob:#this probably sucks but at this point if i look at it any longer i will go insane and throw my laptop#anyway. did i choose blue white and pink for a particular reason? me? a Known Transgender? maybe. perhaps.#like i didn't make the trans flag bc the colors aren't accurate or anything but i did choose the colors bc of that so#you're welcome lewis for transgenderifying you#also the caption took me ages to write bc the formatting kept getting fucked ?? what is up with that tumblr#i'm talking too much bc i'm nervous about posting this. idk why since my edits never get edits anyway so just another day as a small#gifmaker/editor for me LMAO#okay i'll shut up BUT listen!!! this song is very lewis because lewis IS that girl !!!!!#never get NOTES* okay can i make one! post without a typo
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They had started their 'situation' Sakusa's final year off college after Atsumu decided to visit him. Atsumu hadn't expected, though he should have, Sakusa to have grown into himself so much.
The confidence Sakusa had alone made Atsumu fall
Onto his knees for him. It continued into Sakusa joining MSBY. It was beneficial, they could relieve stress and they wouldn't have to worry about the other not being tested since the team did that regularly.
They had rules, obviously. If they slept with other people the person
Had to be tested beforehand. No one on the team could know. Actually No one could know. News spread like wildfire in the v-league.
And finally, most importantly, it could never come in between their teamwork. Whatever problems arose, they had to deal with it before or after work
It became a smooth system, a few bumps arose in the beginning but were dealt with. Four years later and feelings had grown, unknowingly on both sides. Neither of them had slept with another person in almost 6 months but it was never brought up. They knew each others wet dreams, had even made some of them become reality. For Atsumu, it was fucking in public. How Sakusa managed to keep Atsumu quiet in the locker room showers while the team was only a few feet away is still a mystery to them both. For Sakusa, it was total control. Sensory deprivation of his partner, temperature play had been thrown in for fun. Atsumu hadn't been able to walk the next day and they stayed inside watching movies.
There was one that they both wanted to do, yet the opportunity had yet to arise
Something about waking up to someone fucking into you. To waking someone where the first thing out of their mouth is a moan.
They had talked about it extensively, making sure that they were both okay with it should the occasion every arise. And they always had the light system
But knowing Atsumu, he had a long list of things he wanted to try and Sakusa was more than happy to check off each one.
It all came to a head at a team dinner. They were celebrating a win against EJP, something that made Atsumu doubly smug since it was his twins boyfriends team. They were playing truth or dare since they got a private room. Bokuto was wearing his boxers on his head, courtesy of Hinata, who in turn had to booty call a certain Adlers Setter for later that night. It was Meians turn to ask Sakusa. "Truth or Dare?"
Sakusa swirled his whiskey in his glass before looking up at him.
"Truth"
Boos were promptly heard but Meian just nodded with a smirk.
"Okay, is it true you have a special someone in your life right now?"
Atsumus head perked up at the question. "Mmmm...yeah I do have a special someone. Been seeing them for awhile now"
Atsumu felt his heart drop and shatter on the floor and he looked down at his glass, missing the look Sakusa had sent him.
He was quiet for the next thirty minutes, having sent Osamu their SOS signal
His phone started ringing and he pushed away from the table.
"Sorry guys, I gotta take this."
As soon as he stepped outside, he took a deep breath and answered the phone.
"Hey Samu...thanks for calling I needed ta get out of there."
"What's up? What happened?"
"He has...he has someone."
He didn't need to say who "he" was. Osamu knew about his crush. He didn't know about their situation, but he knew his brother was in love.
"Ah shit Tsumu...how did ya find out- did tha bastard bring them?"
"No- no he didn't do that. He just told us."
"Oh..well use me as an excuse ta get outta there. I'll even give ya permission ta drink that bottle I left at yer place."
Atsumu laughed despite himself, thanking his twin and he hung up before going back inside. "Sorry guys I gotta go. Samu locked himself outta his place and Suna didn't bring his key. Big bro to the rescue."
The team was disappointed but let him go and Atsumu left cash on the table for his part.
"Make sure to take a cab, Tsumu!"
Bokuto yelled as he walked out, waving. He went back to his apartment, opening the bottle of whiskey that Samu had mentioned and he sat on his balcony sipping from the bottle directly.
Half an hour later there was a knock at his door and he got up, expecting it to be the pizza that he ordered. "Yer early, how much do I owe ya-"
The person at the door was not a pizza delivery man. Instead there stood a 6 foot 3 man with curly black hair and two moles on his forehead.
"Tha fuck are you- no. Not tonight. Not anymore. I'm done-"
He tried to shut the door but Sakusa stuck his foot in the doorway stopping him.
"We need to talk. You're drunk- how much did you drink."
Atsumu wasnt able to push him out so instead he retreated into his living room and Sakusa followed, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up
"Yer not- yer not wanted here. Just leave."
Atsumu picked up the whiskey bottle from the coffee table and was about to take a drink when it was pulled from him and set on the kitchen counter.
"We need to talk, and for that i need you sober. Water, drink it."
A water bottle was thrust into his hand instead and he looked stunned for a few seconds before he threw it on his couch.
"Yer not the boss of me! Leave! Go to your 'special person' and leave me tha hell alone!"
Sakusa ignored him and thrust another into his hand. It joined the other on the couch and this time Sakusa stepped forward and grabbed his hand.
"Atsumu. Just drink the water and let me speak. Then, afterwards, if you want me gone I will leave and we can go back to just being teammates."
Atsumu reluctantly took the water bottle from Sakusa when it was handed to him again from the couch. He opened it and started drinking, letting Sakusa guide him onto the couch to sit.
He refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge his presence aside from the water. It took awhile for him to start sobering up. While he sat on the couch, Sakusa cleaned up his apartment and paid for the pizza, something that Atsumu had tried to do but was just given another water bottle.
Atsumu wasn't even sure where they were coming from but he drank them
And he ate the pizza. When Sakusa had deemed him sober enough, he rejoined him on the couch and reach for Atsumus hand who pulled it away and moved away.
He saw the flash of hurt on Sakusas face but said nothing despite the ache in his heart at Sakusa being hurt. "I don't have a partner."
"But ya said at din-"
"Let me finish, please. I don't have a partner. I have a specia someone, but they don't know it. I've been sleeping with them since college. And exclusively them for six months. And this person doesn't even know that I love them."
Atsumu gasped and moved his head too quickly, the room spinning a little but he focused on Sakusa in front of him.
"What did ya say?"
"I'm trying...I'm trying to tell you that I love you. I have for awhile now. And I was stupid tonight. I thought you'd catch my look but when I
Looked over at you, you looked so...so broken. And I realized my mistake. But you wouldn't look at me the rest of the night and then you left. I couldn't chase after you because the team was watching. I was talking about you Atsumu. You're my special person"
Atsumus heart was pounding in his ears and he really couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Yer- yer talkin about me? I'm yer special person?"
Sakusa nodded at him, a soft smile on his lips and he leaned forward, kissing Atsumus forehead.
"If you'll have me."
Atsumu hiccupped, an action that Sakusa thought was quite adorable, and he nodded.
"Yeah, yes Omi. I want- I wanna be yer special person. Yer my special person too. So- so I'd really like ta be yer boyfriend"
The smile that appeared on Sakusas face was the most beautiful one
Atsumu had ever had the privilege of seeing.
Sakusa leaned forward and kissed him, it was a soft sweet kiss despite Atsumu trying to deepen it, to which Sakuse chuckled a bit.
"Bed for you, I have a surprise for you in the morning, if you'll allow me to spend the night"
"Yer my boyfriend, course you can spend the night. I always wanna sleep with you. In both meanings"
Sakusa chuckled again and kissed Atsumus forehead.
"I'll meet you in your room, I'll clean up out here. You should take a shower to sober the rest of you up."
Atsumu couldn't argue that, so he did. And by the time he was out, Sakusa was laying in his bed, his reading glasses on and was reading the book he had left the last time he spent the night.
Atsumu wanted this image to forever be in his memory. He crawled into bed, moving under the blanket to Sakusas side and curled against him, his head on his chest and Sakusa started reading his book aloud, and soon Atsumu fell asleep listening to the cadence of his /boyfriends/ voice.
(NSFW warning ahead!)
Atsumu felt a tight grip on his hips as he laid there, a warmth pressing against his back and air tickling the back of his neck.
It was the most vivid dream he'd ever had.
"Atsu"
Omi's voice was rough in his ear, just as rough as the thrusts inside of him
Atsumu never wanted to wake up.
He felt kisses being pressed to his shoulder before the rough voice was in his ear again.
"So fucking good for me. So tight and so inviting even in your sleep."
He felt Omi hit his prostate and a moan ripped out of Atsumus lips, his eyes opening
His head was pressed into a pillow but he could see the sunrising outside his window, his eyes still bleary from sleep
Another thrust against his prostate had him crying out Omis name, his hand moving up to grip the sheets
"M-more Omi- want more"
Omis hips faltered for a moment when he realized Atsumu was finally awake but his pace quickly returned and he kissed the shell of Atsumus ear.
"Good morning baby. You're being so good for already today"
"Wanna- wanna be good fer ya Omi- sir"
Atsumus voice was still sleepy but the whine in it was evident and made Sakusa smirk.
He loved how needy his lover was for him and him alone.
"You're taking me so well. Being so good. Such a good boy"
The praise made Atsumu moan, he was close already. His fist gripped the sheets harder and he closed his eyes, moans getting louder.
He knew Omi loved how vocal he was when they had sex. Omi loved even more the sound of Atsumu screaming his name.
"Omi please- please I'm so"
"So what, Atsu? Use your words. Tell me what you want"
"Close! I'm close. Wanna- wanna cum, please- fer ya"
Omi nipped at his shoulder, hitting his prostate again and again as he spoke.
"Do it, Atsu. Will you let me cum inside you? Fill you up like you love?"
Atsumu's orgasm hit him the moment permission left Omis lips and the promise of being filled had him letting out a loud whiney 'please'..
It didn't take long for Omi to cum after him, Atsumu gasped and cried at the sensitivity of Omis release inside of him. "So good for me baby, so good. Go back to sleep now"
Despite having just woken up, a wave of tiredness hit him and Atsumu turned his head to try and look at Omi, his eyes fighting to stay open.
"Stay, stay in me...wanna wake up like this again, please"
Omi kissed his shoulder reassuringly.
"I'll stay and I'll wake you up again just like this later. Get more sleep."
#Is this even allowed on here#fuck you elon musk#ftc save twitter#twitter is a hellscape#but its MY hellscape#sakusa kiyoomi#sakuatsu#cw: somno#consensual somnophilia#miya atsumu#fwb#why is it more embarassing to post this on tumblr than twitter#moving from twitter#sorry for the format#tumblr dont ban me#sakuatsu fwb#msby#msby black jackal#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#oh god does this need a tw#tw somnophilia
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we had a beautiful, magic love there
(sad beautiful tragic - taylor swift)
#klaine#kurt hummel#blaine anderson#glee#i continue to do the same shit lol 🤪#idk how to do anything else soooo#hey why is it so fucking annoying to put these pictures in order lmfaooo thanks tumblr#omfg WHY was that so stupid i'm not asking that much of u i just want the pic i drag over to go after the pics i already have djshgslkglmao#Pretend these r good quality k 😌#also my crooked ass letters lol#yeah i could've like used a font i just realized that would've been very easy lol but i already had the design :P#i've been posting them in batches of 10 on instagram (so i've only posted one so far lmao) but so far for this group#this one is the only one that's like interesting bc it's different XD#the other ones are so similar in terms of like format lowkey especially my last two for begin again and moment i knew#i was short on ideas lmaoo so at least this one was somewhat creative XD#i feel like i did some different stuff with putting this together too so that was fun lol 🤪#if only i could do more things that would make it better lmao Anyway#pretend they're actually gifs XD#ignore the absolute shit quality of the youtube screenshots <3#anywayyyyfdgjkfdl :D#i dont tag my stuff but i've been doing so many of these i rly probably should lmao oh well idk eventually lol
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