Tumgik
#maybe I should have a tag for studies? I should do more studies
miru-mu · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
did a little single brush photo study of this cat I've become obsessed with via a buddy
896 notes · View notes
q-uzi · 14 days
Text
Tumblr media
he got more friends
62 notes · View notes
99probalos · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
getting reports from our inside sources that in gorilla interrupted 2 dex will be wearing his shitty husbands band tees throughout the film
72 notes · View notes
ariiii33 · 28 days
Text
I rlly rlly want to impress my teachers but i have no motavation so i just sit in my room rotting in my bed thinking about what their reactions would be instead of actually studying
8 notes · View notes
keelanrosa · 18 days
Text
terfs when a study shows literally anything positive about trans people/transitioning: 'hm i think this requires some fact-checking. Were those researchers REALLY unbiased? Because if they were biased this doesn't count and if they weren't knowingly biased they probably were unconsciously biased, woke media affects so much these days. Have there been any other studies on this? Because if there haven't been this could be an outlier and if there have been and they all agree that's a bit odd, why aren't there any outliers, and if there have been and any disagree we really won't know the truth until we very thoroughly analyze them all, will we? Were there enough subjects for a good sample size? Did every single subject involved stay involved through the whole study because if they didn't we should be sure nothing shady was going on resulting in people dropping out. Are we 110% sure all the subjects were fully honest and at no point were embarrassed or afraid to admit they didn't love transitioning to the people in charge of their transition? Are we 110% sure none of the subjects were manipulated into thinking they were happy with their transition? In fact we should double-check what they think with their parents, because if the subjects and their parents disagree it's probably because they've been manipulated but their cis parents have not and are very unbiased. How many autistic subjects were there because if there weren't enough then this doesn't really study the overlap between autistic and trans and if there were too many then we just don't know enough about what causes that overlap to be sure this study really explains being trans and isn't just about being autistic. How many AFAB subjects were there because if there weren't enough this is just another example of prioritizing AMAB people and ignoring the different struggles of girls and women and if there were too many how do we know sexism didn't affect the results. Was the study double-blinded? We all know double-blinded is the most reliable so if this one wasn't that's a point against it even if the thesis literally physically could not be double-blinded. Look i'm not being transphobic, i want what's best for trans people! Really! But as a person who is not trans and therefore objective in a way they cannot possibly be, i just think we should only take into account Good Science here. You want to be following science and not being manipulated or experimented upon by something unscientific, right?'
terfs when they see a study of 45 subjects so old it predates modern criteria for gender dysphoria and basically uses 'idk her parents think she's too butch', run by a guy who practiced conversion therapy, 'confirmed' by a guy who treated the significant portion of subjects who didn't follow up as all desisting, definitely in the category of 'physically cannot double-blind this', completely contradicted by multiple other studies done on actual transgender subjects, but can be kinda cited as evidence against transitioning if you ignore everything else about it: 'oOOH SEE THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKIN BOUT. SCIENCE. Just good ol' unbiased thorough analysis. I see absolutely no reason to dig any deeper on this and if you think it's wrong you're the one being unscientific. It's really a shame you've been so thoroughly brainwashed by the trans agenda and can't even accept science when you see it. Maybe now that someone has finally uncovered this long-lost study from 1985, we can make some actual progress on the whole trans problem.'
#science#transphobia#cass review#less 'cass review' generally more 'zucker specifically' because this same problem exists outside cass#have lost count of the number of times i've seen 'well THAT study may have said most trans kids persist but it MUST be wrong'#'there's another study says the exact opposite. that one's right. obviously.'#but cass is why i'm annoyed by it now#normally i don't have a problem with critical observations and questions. yeah check your science! that's good!#there have been some bullshit studies and some bullshit interpretations of good studies! scientific literacy is important!#and normally also am willing to pretend the people pulling reaction 1 on some studies and reaction 2 on others are. not the same group.#but now there's a ton of cass supporters tryna say 'oh the cass review didn't reject or downplay anything for being pro-trans!'#'some studies just weren't given much weight for being poor evidence! not our fault those were all studies with results trans people like!'#…….………….aight explain why zucker's findings are used for the 'percentage of trans kids who don't stay trans' stat instead of anyone else's.#would've been more scientifically accurate to say 'yeah we just don't know.'#'studies have been done but none of them fit our crack criteria sooooo *shrug*'#like COME ON at least PRETEND you're genuinely checking scientific correctness and not looking for excuses to weed out undesirable results#am also mad about zucker in particular because his is possibly the most famous bullshit study#quite bluntly if you're doing trans research and think 'yeah this one seems reasonable' you. are maybe not well-informed enough for the job#there's just no way you genuinely look at the research with an eye toward accurate science regardless of personal bias#and walk away thinking 'hm that zucker fellow seems reasonable. competent scientists will respect that citation.'#that's one or two steps above doing a review of vaccine science and seriously citing wakefield's mmr-causes-autism study#it doesn't matter what the rest of your review says people are gonna have OPINIONS on that bit#and outside anti-vaxxers most of those opinions will be 'are you actually the most qualified for this because ummmm.'#people who agree with everything else will still think someone more competent could've done a much better job#people who disagree with everything else will point to that as proof you don't know shit and why should we listen to you#anyway i'd love a hugeass trans science review with actual fucking standards hmu if you know of one cause this ain't it#……does tumblr still put a limit on how many tags you can include guess me and my tag essay are about to find out.
5 notes · View notes
nozomijoestar · 2 months
Text
Took me a while to realize but I can see similarities in how Asuka seems to process grief and how Guts from Berserk also processed his grief after the Eclipse. They both get so overwhelmed by the wrong that happened to them (father's hospitalization vs the Eclipse and a lifetime of misery) their reaction isn't to seek comfort in others or help/protect their loved one who needs them after the tragedy, it's to go off and inflict their pain on others to self soothe, as if that'll release the feeling from their minds.
The difference is that Guts was called out for this by Rickert and Godo. He needed to snap out of wanting to prioritize ridding his own pain to remember Casca needed him, and that Casca even in the state she was in was all the good in his life who went through the same experience with him. Guts had to remember he loves Casca more than he wants to self destruct. Like Godo told him he was a sword called fear with cracks in it. He feared sitting with his pain and grief and seeing it on the person he loved after so much violation. He feared vulnerability.
Asuka doesn't do this reevaluatation and has no one to call her out for her self destructive coping canonically. She can't sit with anything bad or face looking at it on a loved one either. That's too bad and helpless of a feeling. She's just as much made of fear (primarily from any helplessness as much as violations of her inner ethics) which fuels her anger, but her one personal attachment to her father who needs her isn't enough to make her want to reevaluate what she does at all. Instead his tragedy is the permission she needs to self destruct and destroy in the process, not like Guts who always told himself everything was for Casca and the fallen Hawks, who always reminded himself of the pain to justify the bloodletting.
Unlike Guts I think she'd be stubborn even accepting to listen to someone pointing her behavior out. Though her anger toward Feng did start out carrying a reminder this vengeance is for Dad even if it kills her in 5, even in 5's branching narratives that excuse falls apart when she continues in the tournament for her own pleasure during her route. The moment vengeance is achieved critically injured Dad is out of her mind. Her behavior during 6 repeats this process, preferring to hurt herself and others rather than sit to process a shitty feeling over her and the world's situation. Like Guts in this state she pushes away anyone and everyone else including any comforts because the anger isn't resolved, the fear isn't resolved, the pain isn't resolved.
They're both used to everyone being against them and having to fight for survival until they found joy in it as a side effect. And because of that independence born from isolation when something like the tragedies that happened takes place they put resolving their pain not on sharing with others but into scorching the earth along with themselves.
I don't say this either to imply they're exactly alike or that they have enough similarities to make a true character comparison because they absolutely don't. There's also some stuff I'm leaving out simply because Guts is a far more complex character in ways where there's nothing from Asuka to compare against (I would say Kazuya is the closest, more fitting Tekken comparison for substituting Guts vs Asuka style notes). I just find it interesting that even across wildly different stories the outline for an angry, self destructive, terrified person who thinks self destruction makes them strong and puts them in control uses a lot of the same foundation. And the contrast in their depths really shows how far you can push the concept depending on what you want or need for the character.
6 notes · View notes
greatfunkystatic · 7 months
Text
I fuckin hate warm water
2 notes · View notes
astranite · 9 months
Text
Today I encountered The Horrors. 
(had to make a phone call and send an email I’d been putting off.)
(There are still more Horrors to come)
(whyyyyyyyyyyyy?????)
5 notes · View notes
Text
sometimes i look at things i write and i go "huh. my mental illness is showing"
#vent in tags#<- just to be safe idk what counts tbh lmao#GIRL WHY DID I CRY ABOUT SOMEONE CALLING A SONG FROM TWEWY MID FOR AN ENTIRE DAY??????#why do i keep comparing myself to a houseplant that dies when things go A Little Wrong??????????#hm. maybe i do need to get myself evaluated...#i need to get my eyes checked and go see a psych but i! am incapable! yay! <- knows getting a diagnosis can and probably will make my life#much harder#pls at least let me see if my eyes r fucked or if i am. pls.#optometrists aren't that expensive but it's bad to go alone i think :(#im glad people worry about me but at the same time it makes me wanna die bc like...... no.....#i should not be burdening others with my issues... ya'll have your own lives and issues....#bleh. subjecting myself to the mortifying ordeal of being known sucks#i think its kinda funny that my internet friends always know more about me than my own parents...#but it's not like my parents ever take an interest in me anyway lmao#when i said i wanted to study jp i only got a very sarcastic 'good luck' like... i was at least hoping they might offer to buy me something#to study off of... but they like never take an interest in me anyway lmao#they weren't even here for my birthday. and made plans over new years without me knowing#i only learned when i asked to go see my family for new years bc they hold a celebration and this might be the last time i can go#for like... 4 years. and i don't think i can take myself bc the route is over very windy mountain roads :(#and i... do not trust myself that much in the car... and it hurts me to drive even the 10 mins to and from school sometimes...#my knee and ankle get stiff and my hip starts to hurt... its bad :(#it sucks tho i miss my family i'm lucky if i see them once a year... but its not like the adults give a shit.#sighhhhhhhhhhh. ugh. my life isn't even that bad by a lot of standards so i feel shitty for whining about it#like yeah my parents don't really care about me but at least they feed me and haven't hit me since i was little?#idk man. i should stop talking i think.
12 notes · View notes
valleyyofthemoonnn · 1 year
Text
don’t talk to me i just had oc thoughts while listening to my oc playlist
1 note · View note
teamatsumu · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)
Tumblr media
summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.
word count: 1172
warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
Tumblr media
When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.
Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.
You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.
Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.
You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.
“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.
“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”
Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.
“You say a single word-”
He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.
“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”
You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.
“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.
Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.
“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”
“No.”
Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”
You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”
“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”
You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”
“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”
That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.
“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”
Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.
“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”
“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”
You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.
“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”
You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.
“And you just want her number in return?”
Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.
“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”
His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”
That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.
Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.
He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.
There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.
“My payment? ;)”
You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
ja3hwa · 4 months
Text
♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media
【Synopsis】 : He couldn't help but think such filth when you were innocently fast asleep only merely a couple of feet away from him.
『Word count』 :  1.12k
-> Genre: Pure smut. Little plot. DBF.
Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader [Hwa's Daughter]
[Warnings] : Slightly Noncon (Reader is asleep at first). Masturbation. Cum play. Thoughts and fantasies. Pet names. Sir kinkish. Hongjoong is nasty. Also, Joong is like in his late 30s and tatted while the reader is only 23. Whoops.
Note: No one asked for this, but for some reason, I was hooked on the thought of the Dad's best friend trope, and Hongjoong is really coming for my heart. So, It was a perfect match in my eyes.
Masterlist | Navigation | Buy Me A Ko-Fi
Tumblr media
You didn't know what came over yourself. It felt like the heating was turned up tenfold. Your nose scrunched as you began to move more and more in your sleep. Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch your discomfort in curiosity. Were you having a nightmare? No, you weren’t one to have them. But then again, maybe you just didn’t tell anyone. And being on a family trip in the middle of nowhere would cause distress.
Maybe I should wake her?… He thought, now sitting fully up on the pull-out couch bed. You were no longer tucked under the big fluffy covers on the single bed. No, you had thrown them off moments ago, revealing your mid-drift slightly from your short sleep top and the fact you weren't wearing any pants. God, you looked so cute in your black frilly panties…No, he couldn’t think of such a thing. Not when you were his best friend's daughter. 
But oh how you looked delicious. When he met Seonghwa, he had no clue he had a daughter, let alone one that was twenty-two. And when he agreed to go on this camping trip─more like staying in this large cabin on Seonghwa family’s land─he didn’t expect to see you tag along. You were stunning the moment he saw you hop out of your car. You were everything he would want in a woman and after spending hours of the day chatting and getting to know you he knew he was fucked. Anyone outside your conversations, like Seonghwa or his other friends and their kids, would see it as some harmless banter. But in reality, Hongjoong was shamelessly flirting. He didn’t mean it at first, but it just kept going, and you kept egging him on. So what was he supposed to do?
Since there were quite a lot of people that had come on the getaway, rooms were tight. And you had begged your father not to let you sleep in the rooms where the kids were cause you were certain one of San’s boys wanted more than innocent late-night chats… He ended up putting you in the same small study-turned-bedroom where there was a single bed and a double pull-out with Hongjoong. He originally offered to take the single, but you argued, saying his ‘old man back’ wouldn’t like it. He let you take it after that comment.
“J-joong…” you mumbled, almost inaudible. The older man's eyes snapped to your parted lips in a millisecond. Did you just say his name? No, he was definitely hearing things. “Joong, please.”
No, he definitely heard you that time. Your little panting, knitted brow, and soft moans. You weren’t having a nightmare. You were having a sex dream. And it was about him. God, did he wake up in another universe where everything went his way?! He ruffled his hair before rubbing his face in disbelief. He needed to hear you again, but as he took in your figure, he noticed you were now biting your lip, and your hips were jerking slowly. The pillow you were cuddling was tightly pressed up against your covered cunt in between your legs, and every little movement of your hips sent a shock of pleasure through your body.
You were humping your pillow at the thought of them while fast asleep.
He knew it was bad, but as his cock twitched for the millionth time he knew he needed to give himself some relief. And besides, you were sleeping, so you wouldn’t catch him only a couple of feet away from you, fucking his fists in time with your thrusts as your little moans carried out the nastiest fantasies his mind could conjure.... Right?
The thought of you laying out on his bed back at his penthouse. You're soaking on complete display as you beg him to hurry and touch you. He questions if you are a virgin, and if you were would you let him fuck you raw? Just the thought of slipping inside your tight virgin pussy while you tear up at his girth. He squeezed his cock tighter, staring at you intensely, he moved the sheets off himself, hissing slightly at the cool air hitting his hot angry tip. He needed more, he needed to hear his name spill from your mouth again. And it was as if the gods answered his prayers hearing you whimper, “P-please H-hongjoong.”
That was enough to tip him over the edge, speeding up his movements. He noticed the stutter in your hips. You were close to. He’d whisper to himself, “Let’s cum together baby. Cum all over my cock, fuuck.”
He wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time, splurting all over his hand, chest, and some dripping on his thigh. Fuck, he came so much. His eyes were shut, head leaning back against the backing of the couch. His heart was thumping in his ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear anything more. He was in complete ecstasy and peace. That was until he felt the bed dip, making his heart stop and eyes widen. “oh uh..I. um..” fuck, he was so fucked. You were sitting on the end of his bed, half asleep with the haziest expression while staring at his cock still tightly in his hand. His dick twitched, causing a groan, mostly from annoyance as he had been caught and he does even feel an ounce of guilt.
“D-did I cause t-that…” You said sweetly, so innocently. Could you get any more perfect?!
“I’m sorry angel, just go back to sleep, yeah…” He tucks himself back into his boxers, feeling his cum stick to the fabric which caused him to gag. He’s gonna have to slip out for a shower. But you didn’t budge as you took in his words. Instead, you pushed past any anxiety you had over the past days wondering whether Hongjoong liked you the same way, and moved closer to grab his hand that still had some of his cum on. You had woken up over five minutes ago before Hongjoong had creamed himself. His head was thrown back and he was in complete bliss and it caused you to cum just from the sight alone. “A-Angel…”
You didn’t let him speak another word as you placed two of his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Soaking them. And once they were wet enough, you pulled them out with an audible pop. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with the older male, you moved his hand down until those two wet fingers dipped into your completely ruined panties, letting him feel exactly how wet you were for him. They would slip so perfectly into your cunt causing you to sigh in relief, feeling so full just from his fingers alone. “Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”
Hongjoong was done for.
—♡
2K notes · View notes
azullumi · 26 days
Text
Tumblr media
“i wanna be yours” ; aventurine
premise — but this is what friends do, right? they slow dance together in the living room while saying sweet nothings ; inspired by this ask (though i never really followed the entire idea, my hands has minds of its own)
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff (with a little bit of angst at the end), friends but wanting more type of relationship, all written in reader’s pov, not proofread, 1.2k words ; one-shot
tagging — @toorurs (hi boo)
note — i keep on comparing aventurine to the sun i dont even know why i do it. 9 DAYS LEFT UNTIL HIS BANNER
Tumblr media
“care to dance?” the languid, lazy silence draws itself away as the honey-haired man spoke, offering you his hand as he did. the light humming of the music in the background keeps the night awake and alive, the softness of the notes intertwined in the air that settles in your home.
you stare at his hand for a moment, admiring the glistening bracelet on his wrist before you answer, tone meek and hesitant: “i don’t know how to dance.” you expected him to laugh at you for not knowing a simple and common concept; dancing was a form of art known to many and yet, you are unfamiliar with it.
but aventurine simply smiles at you and takes your hand to hold on his own, gently pulling you up from your seat and making you stumble on your feet—however, he catches you and doesn’t let you fall to the ground. you are only met with the warmth of his body and the feeling of his unoccupied hand resting on the small of your back.
“you could have warned me before you did that.” you huffed, although you weren’t exactly reprimanding him.
“i still caught you, didn’t i?” the man answers in a gentle tone as he begins to sway you to the rhythm of the song (the melody wraps itself around your form like the cradle of a warm blanket), a familiar tune that plays in your living room and now you are listening to it as you—no, as he dances and guides your movements. you try to follow him albeit like a clumsy child and silence trailed behind your steps as none of you spoke, only wallowing in this moment between you and him.
(his hand is warm against yours, fingers lacing with each other like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. you have never known how gentle he can be, have never known the warmth of his hands and the softness of his palms up until this moment. maybe it’s the feeling of his touch that’s making you drunk and aeons, you’ve never thought of yourself as a selfish person but something in the way he’s holding you makes you crave for more.)
“focus,” he whispers to your ear, catching you completely off-guard when his breath tickles your skin, “you’re supposed to look at me, not at the ground.”
you compose yourself, bringing your gaze to his face instead of the marble floors that seem to spin as you move, “i was watching my feet so i won’t accidentally step on you.”
“i don’t mind if you do, all i wish is for you to look at me and me only.” he speaks so gently, so delicately as if something akin to despair hangs on the tangled threads of his words. you study his face, looking at the lines on his features and trying to look for the gap of his expression—you could never tell what he was thinking, could never decipher the meaning he skillfully weaves to the words that he utters (you wish you had the ability to look into minds, perhaps you would have known him).
he notices your silence and smiles, “can’t a poor man have their own wishes?”
you take a moment once more to answer, “i didn’t say that.” well, in fact, you weren’t saying anything. the sound of laughter slips past his lips and perhaps, if you didn’t see the way his eyes formed into a crescent and his expression contorts one into amusement, you would have mistook the sound as part of the song.
“you should see the way you look right now.” 
you raised your eyebrow at him, confusion evident in your face, “what do you mean? is there dirt on my face?”
aventurine pulled you closer to him, movements coming to a stop as you two stood still. his face is leaning down to yours, lips merely inches away from each other, and your thoughts are in a jumble as if your mind was a library of cluttered and disorganized bookshelves.
“no, i’m saying you look lovely tonight.” he whispers—and you swear, you see his eyes look down to your lips for a moment—, his voice low as if you’re the only one who’s supposed to hear and not the moon that casts its curious glow on his skin, not the stars that watched your every move, but you and just you.
(you’re left with nothing but silence and warmth in your cheeks, not knowing where to focus or even think about—the strong scent of his perfume or his words that repeatedly echoed inside your head.)
the golden-haired man doesn’t speak any further, continuing his slow dance with you in the comfort of your living room as he hums along to the melody. the night is heavy against your shoulders as the silver moonlight laid on the ground like spilled milk.
“it is quite simple, isn’t it? look, you’re able to follow.”
“aven, you’re doing all of the work.”
he slowly spins you around—the world looks slow and messy for you for a moment—before he answers, “barely.” he comes face to face with you and you don’t fail to notice the affection in his eyes when he meets your gaze.
“don’t look at me like that.” you wished he wouldn’t look at you in that way; something tugs at your heart and suffocates you.
“like what?”
“i don’t know.” hesitation follows your tone, broken and unsure, seemingly lost in an empty field full of directions. “like…” like you wanted me like a lover, you keep the words at your throat knowing you’ll choke on it one day. you don’t know how to say it, you don’t even know if you can say it. it was as if the ability to speak has been taken away from you.
the song came to its end and so was the dance.
“you should go to sleep, don’t stay up too much.” aventurine says, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss on your forehead. he lets you go as soon as he parts his lips, stepping back to the distance the both of you once had before all of this happened, as if nothing occurred between you two, as if the words whispered against each other, the closeness, the intimacy were all just some silly imagination.
“are you leaving already?” you ask, your hand reaching out to tug at his sleeve as if you didn’t want him to go. you don’t even know what made you hold on to him, what made you want him to not want to leave.
the man who had the universe in his wake answers with warmth in his tone, “i can’t stay any longer.” he holds your hand and ushers you to remove your grasp on his sleeve. everything felt so different now, your thoughts were all so loud but you couldn’t dare to speak nor say something as you watched him turn away and leave—the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the corners of your home and you were left alone, in silence and in the cold.
but the comfort and warmth of his touch lingered on your skin—and you’ll remember it all; it will haunt you, follow your shadow everywhere you go, pulling on the hem of your shirt with the desperation of a dying man and you don’t know how to live knowing the way he held you on this night. how are you supposed to deal with the fact that his hands were as soft and warm as summer?
Tumblr media
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
658 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 3 months
Text
Cool Rider
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets you ready for a ride on his motorcycle
word count: 1.4k
a/n: just a little fluff drabble i've been thinking about while i go back and forth on my other longer fics. imagine this to be a little bit after vendetta when leon's starting to get better. hope everyone enjoys, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
Tumblr media
“Quit joking around or you’re not going anywhere,” Leon grunts as he continues to mess around with the tire pressure on the rear wheel of his motorcycle.
“I’m just saying-” you chime before being cut off.
“You’re saying nothing more or I’m changing my mind,” he says and gives you a warning look.
Despite his attempt at being stern with you, affection clouds his eyes. You play along for him and mime zipping your lips. With a sharp exhale and shake of his head at your antics, he returns his focus to fidgeting with the pressure gauge hooked to his bike. But you’re happy just because you saw him smile.
You’d been begging him for months to take you for a ride on his bike. Every time you’d asked, you were met with “no” or “in your dreams.” You’d always ask him why, and he’d just brush it off. Too dangerous. It’s something he does alone. You eventually just gave up. He deserved his space, and you knew he’d seen so much pain and death in his life that he was probably a little overprotective by nature. It came as an absolute shock to you when he approached you last week and asked if you’d wanna go for a ride this weekend. He’d said it so casually, like he hadn’t shot you down time after time before. You weren’t sure what had changed, but a win is a win, right?
Now sitting on the stool by the bench where he kept all his motorcycle stuff, you swing your feet back and forth. As much as you’d been teasing him for the last thirty minutes about taking forever and a half, it was fun seeing him so locked in on his task. You studied his face, the way his brows furrowed and his eyes hardened, his lips curling a little with dedication.
“Hey stalker girl, instead of staring me down, maybe you should finish getting ready,” he teases as he finishes up and starts putting the tools away.
“I am ready,” you say.
“No you’re not. Where’s your helmet?” he asks while walking to you.
“Mmmm… you don’t wear a helmet,” you playfully point out.
You were just being difficult because he was so easy to mess with. You weren’t dumb, and you had no desire for your brains to splatter across some pavement. In general, motorcycles kind of scare you to be honest. If anyone but Leon was driving it, you wouldn’t even consider hopping on the back. So there was absolutely no way you were gonna get on that thing without a helmet strapped on.
“I didn’t ask you if I wear one. Where’s yours?” he says.
He stands between your thighs and looks down at you, taking in your pretty eyes, pouty lips, the face he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers run along your jaw, his thumb stroking over your chin. Every detail had him enraptured. He made fun of you for staring, but truth be told, he was just as guilty. The only difference was he hid it much better than you did.
“I’ll get it in two seconds. You were just taking so long, I figured I had some time to relax,” you joke with a quick peck to his lips, hopping off your seat.
“You better get it. I want your pretty little head kept in one piece,” he murmurs and lays a kiss on your hairline. He lightly swats your ass as you walk away, drawing that laugh from you that he loved to hear. He’s smiling while grabbing the keys, not that you could see it with your back to him. You were easy to mess with too.
“I just don’t think it’s fair that I have to wear one if you don’t,” you say as you lift the helmet up and inspect the one he’d bought for you.
“Too bad. I know what I’m doing. You don’t. God forbid I actually let you do this, and you end up with a concussion or something,” he grumbles while grabbing the keys.
“If we get in a crash though, your experience won’t matter. We’ll both go flying all the same. Then you’ll be the one with the concussion or worse, and I’ll be flat outta luck having to take care of you,” you explain while fidgeting with the straps on the helmet.
“Here, gimme that,” he says, taking it from you. He fixes the straps and gets them where they should be. Yeah, you’re being intentionally stubborn, but you had a good point and he knew it. “If it’s so important to you, I can wear one too.”
“It is important to me. I always want you safe,” you say, taking a moment to be genuine between all your teasing.
“I know, baby,” he says softly. It’s all he could say. Obviously, with the life he had, he couldn’t “be safe” all the time. But god, you made him want to try.
He gives you one last kiss before putting the helmet on you. He fastens it into place, making sure it’s nice and tight. Tilting your head around, he inspects it thoroughly. Has to be certain this shell of hard plastic is gonna do its job and protect his precious girl. 
After he’s done examining the efficacy of the helmet, he pulls back to give you a once over. Really look at you.
“Does it look good?” you ask, voice slightly muffled.
He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it looks good. Pretty cool,” he confirms.
Of course you looked more than good. The sight of you completely melted his heart. He just didn’t know how to say it. He’d never been too good with words when you were involved. You made everything foggy, hard to think.
He couldn’t see the grin on your face right now, but he could just about feel the excitement radiating off of you as you pulled him into a hug, the shiny dome covering your head resting over his heartbeat. His palm runs up and down your back before you pull away and head to the motorcycle.
“Are we ready to go?” you ask.
He could hear the anticipation in your voice too. It was infectious, made him want to get on and speed off without looking back. But he still had a little hesitation left. Rationally, he knew he’d done everything he could to make sure this would go smoothly. In all likelihood, you would just have some fun and then come back home and everything would be fine. The irrational part of him just wanted that to be 100% guaranteed. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t survive losing you, especially to something as trivial as a motorcycle accident.
But he was stalling now, and he knew it. You deserved this. Deserved to have the fun he’d offered you. You’d been so good to him for the last several months, putting up with him when it would’ve been reasonable to leave him in your rearview mirror. He swallows his doubt and nods.
But as he sees you start to look at it like you’re gonna get on, he stops you.
“Wait a second,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket, “It’s cold out, and with the wind and everything. Just put this on.”
He can’t see how you lovingly roll your eyes at this which is probably for the best anyways. Knowing him, he’d probably get all huffy and defensive about it. Argue the practicality of his decision rather than just admitting he’d gone soft for you.
Regardless, you let him wrap the leather around you, sliding your arms into the sleeves. You give him a thumbs up, and he pulls you close to him, thoughtlessly planting a smooch on the cool helmet like he’d normally do to your head.
“You better hold on tight. This isn’t a video game. You don’t get extra points for riding with no hands,” he teases before grabbing the extra helmet he had and putting it on.
This time you give a mock salute and watch him swing his leg over the seat. He waves you over and you gladly get on behind him. The warmth of your front presses against his back. He looks down, admiring the way your hands lock around his waist, your arms adorned in the white stripes of his jacket.
He wheels the bike out of the garage, taking a deep breath as checks to see that the street is clear. One more sigh and mental reassurance later, he’s speeding out onto the road. He knows it’s all worth it as soon as he hears your laughter and feels you clinging to him even harder.
909 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 29 days
Note
hiya! could I request twst housewardens and close proximity? like getting stuck in a closet together, forced to work together on a project...all that jazz. ty n take care!
Close and forced proximity in this case cause I couldn't decide.
Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, stuck together, kissing, study date, flirting, playful biting
A/N: I would cling onto them all day and never let go, they're all so precious.
Riddle wants to study. That's literally it, it wasn't supposed to be a study date. No, really, it's purely a coincidence that he's at the library at the same time as you, but... as long as he's here he might as well help you study. Your grades are abysmal, how can a girl like you be part of his dorm? You need to focus on your tests, not flirting with him. Or else you won't have free time to spend with him over summer break.
Leona is stuck in detention class with you. Now how did a cutie like you get in trouble hm? You might not be as good as you lead people to believe. Is it that you need a partner in crime to make you more comfortable with that side of you, because he can make you into a very bad girl. How? Well a good girl wouldn't be making out on top of a classroom desk. A good girl wouldn't be making such dirty sounds for him when he pulls you close and growls into your ear, telling you how he can't wait to get out of here with you and have some real fun.
Azul all but cornered you after class, telling you how he wants to spend some time with you. It's been a long time since you've been together one-on-one. Come on, are you saying you don't miss your boyfriend when you were the one texting him until late into the night. He almost wanted to sneak into you dorm from how cute you were. But you have time to be alone now, all you need to do is follow him into his office.
Kalim panics when it's your turn to get into the closet with him. It's just a silly party game, he shouldn't be so shy around his girlfriend. He knows what people usually do in there, and he is definitely not going that far now. There's a time limit and he would rather take his time with you and make sure you're taken proper care of, given the right amount of attention. Kissing is fine, you can even leave lipstick marks on his skin, that should get some stories going.
Vil actually doesn't mind having you all to himself in this classroom. Not the ideal place to have a date. But you can still sit in his lap while you do homework together. It might be hard to focus when you grind back on him like you seem to like to do. You know what that will do right? He's not walking out of the classroom in that kind of state. Maybe being so close to you was mistake, he's given you too much power over him in this moment.
Idia takes big breaths to try to calm down. There's not much room inside a locker but it was the only thing he could think off at the top of his head. It would have been bad if you were caught with your clothes all messy and in his lap in the classroom. You need to quiet down with your breathing or you'll get caught. Oh, it's because of his flames. He honestly didn't think about how hot it would get in such a small space. Well... he can always help you keep quiet.
Malleus deliberately asked for only one bed for this trip. Your touchstarved boyfriend isn't hiding his needs to be close to you anymore. Now that you're a couple he wants any excuse to be close to you. You always get so cute when he hugs you when you're in the same bed as him. Bold of you he won't take advantage of that whenever he can. He needs to tease his cute girlfriend whenever the opportunity shows itself.
895 notes · View notes
kakujis · 1 year
Text
do you love me? 3;
Tumblr media
synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4
ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.
warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!
a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡
Tumblr media
the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline. 
he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him. 
they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him. 
he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing. 
he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening. 
hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach. 
“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him. 
“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him. 
you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn. 
“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden. 
it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”
“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand. 
hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.
he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.  
shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia. 
“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.” 
you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.
shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message. 
“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity. 
“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?” 
“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.” 
shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.” 
an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?
the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?” 
you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.
“i can do that.” 
Tumblr media
ran:
for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier.  it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.
but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop. 
you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“
“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there. 
ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his. 
but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.” 
and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him. 
he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran. 
when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?” 
he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.” 
“liar.” 
he blinks. “what’d you just say?”
“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.” 
“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room. 
“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision. 
he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?” 
you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?” 
he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“ 
you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.” 
“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.” 
its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin. 
“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.” 
“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire,  “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?” 
“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.” 
you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover. 
“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout. 
“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?” 
“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.” 
was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.” 
“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.” 
“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow. 
“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?” 
“ran haitani, shut up!”
Tumblr media
rindou: 
rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them. 
maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club? 
“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.” 
he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor. 
ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes. 
you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing. 
he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.” 
but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby. 
when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him. 
“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?” 
he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.” 
“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.” 
“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.
you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“
“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.” 
“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens. 
“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible. 
“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask,  tilting your head. 
“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback. 
“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…” 
for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?” 
his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?” 
he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.” 
“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.” 
“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard. 
“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together. 
rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.
he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?” 
“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it. 
you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep. 
tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you. 
but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡
3K notes · View notes