too old for toys too young for boys

Katsuki Yuuri is 22 and in college and disgustingly in love with Viktor Nikiforov, his boyfriend of two years.

They have a one-year-old puppy named Makkachin, whom they got from the breeder as soon as he was fully weaned. 

They live together in a gorgeous 2-bedroom apartment - with huge bay windows and what is technically a guest room, but which they’ve been calling “Phichit’s room” for as long as they’ve been living there, for how often the Thai boy stays over. Sometimes, Chris stays there too, when he’s in the country, and Phichit will complain for weeks afterwards that nothing is where he left it and someone has been rummaging in his personal belongings. (Yuuri and Viktor have long since given up questioning why he even keeps his personal belongings in their guestroom).

Viktor is a successful, best-selling author who insists on travelling to the places his books are set in the interest of accuracy even when the setting has next to nothing to do with the plot, because he’s just extra like that.

Yuuri and Makkachin travel with him whenever they can, but being a college student doesn’t give you that much free time, so most often Yuuri has to stay at home, or come home early. He doesn’t mind too much. He’s never actually alone for more than a few days at a time anyways (again, Phichit crashes at their place a lot).

They’re happy and disgustingly adorable and #couplegoals for literally everyone.

And then…they break up. And neither of them will say why. All anyone knows is that it started with a tiny little argument, and spiralled quickly into something monstrous and devastating.

And within the month, Yuuri moves out of his gorgeous 2-bedroom apartment with the huge bay windows and the guest room that they used to call Phichit’s room.

He leaves behind the boyfriend he was disgustingly in love with, and the puppy that whines pitifully after him, scratching at the door and begging to be let out.

He’s done uni by then, and so is Phichit. They have nothing left to tie them to that city, and because Phichit is beautiful and perfect and a way better best friend than Yuuri deserves, he convinces Yuuri to move with him across the country, to sunny beaches and towering palms, to a place as far away from home as they can possibly get, while staying in the same country.

And Viktor? He’s left behind in a too big apartment, with a heartbroken puppy that lies listlessly on Yuuri’s side of the bed and can only fall asleep when listening to Yuuri’s breathless laughter through old vacation videos on Viktor’s laptop.

Once their lease is up, Viktor decides to move back home to Russia, to parents who hug him tightly when they see him standing miserable and tired on their doorstep, and a little brother who barely recognizes him without his ex boyfriend attached to his hip.

He keeps writing his books (tragedies now, instead of the romance his fans have grown to expect from him), even sells his movie rights to some of them, and Makkachin starts running and playing again, tongue lolling happily out of his mouth and bouncing with excitement whenever Yura mentions the beloved “w” word. These days, Viktor always takes him travelling with him, ever since Makkachin got sick with anxiety the first time Viktor left him behind at his parents’ home for a week.

And meanwhile, Yuuri learns to live with a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be, so painful some days he can barely breathe.

Phichit is with him every step of the way, his partner-in-crime, his brother in all but blood, his platonic soulmate. (It’s a warm and sticky summer night when they lie on a sandy beach and listen to the waves lapping quietly at their bare toes, and they promise each other that if neither of them are married by forty, they’ll just marry each other. It’s not exactly what Yuuri had wanted from his future, but it still makes him clutch at his stomach in breathless laughter when Phichit suggests it.)

Viktor had always been the author out of the two of them, the one that knew how to string words in just the right order to paint a vivid picture in the minds of his readers.

But Yuuri isn’t too bad at it himself, he thinks. He decides to give it a try.

He paints a story of a clumsy couple, charmingly naive, so in love, so perfectly imperfect. He paints a story of a couple that bickers and banters, fights and then makes up with whispered apologies and warm cuddles. He writes about a couple that fights and makes up, fights and makes up, fights and makes up until…quite suddenly…they don’t.

He writes about the couple that goes their separate ways. A couple that is too young, too inexperienced for this thing they have between them, this thing that’s so huge, so important, so beautiful, they’re both afraid to lose it, so they throw it away themselves.

And then, just because he wants to give them the one thing he’d long given up hope for, he ends their story with a question.

(Can we give this a second chance?)

Katsuki Yuuri is 26, and disgustingly in love with Viktor Nikiforov, the boy he broke up with three and a half years ago.

He has a cute little 2-year-old toy poodle named Vicchan, whom his roommate, his platonic soulmate (his potential fiancé?) had given to him as a present to get over his broken heart.

They live together in a cozy little 1-bedroom apartment just ten minutes away from the beach, with a sofa-bed that their friends, Guang-Hong and Leo, like to crash on sometimes when they’re in the middle of another lovers’ quarrel.

Yuuri is a best-selling author, with his one-hit wonder, On My Love, garnering international attention and countless desperate requests for a sequel.

Yuuri likes to take Vicchan for walks along the beach early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to peek above the horizon and paint the sky in soft pinks and dazzling oranges.

They’re taking a break one day, with Vicchan splashing in the shallows a few feet away, when Yuuri is suddenly bowled over by a whining, panting, standard sized poodle, all soft brown fur and sloppy kisses.

He can barely breathe around the desperate affection, and not even Vicchan’s excited, curious yapping is enough to distract the ecstatic giant furball from his reunion with his long-lost and sorely missed human.

As soon as Yuuri can breathe again, fingers curled into his beautiful older puppy’s fur, he looks up, and his heart clenches at the sight of the Russian man standing a few feet away, a familiar paperback clutched to his chest with white-knuckled hands.

He still wears his heart on his sleeve.

A question tumbles out of his mouth.

And in that moment, Yuuri knows to start his next book with an answer.

(“Of course.”)

livixnike  asked:

Something with secret identity like.... JM and jk know each other from the past but one of them has something to hide so he fakes that he's someone else or doesn't remember him and the other is ashamed of himself bc of reasons? Btw your au was amazing <3

🌸Jungkook rolls in his bed once again. He looks out of the big window, rain pouring on the streets, just like that night when he ran away.

🌸Jungkook was only 17. Too young for the judgment of the world, too young to go through all the shit his feelings would imply. So he just ran away from them. from him.

🌸He met Jimin, a lovely boy with plump lips and soft eyes, when he was 8 years old. Jimin was hanging out with his friends, 2 years older than Jungkook, so he just curled at the side of the park, playing with his toy car. When one of those older kids came to snatch that toy from the younger, it was Jimin that conforted him and gave him his red car back.

🌸From that day, they were inseparable. They spent all the afternoons together, first at the park, then in their rooms playing videogames.

🌸When Jungkook turned 16, Jimin gave him a kiss on the cheek. Jungkook realised that he loved the other in a way you weren’t supposed to love a friend.

🌸One year later, Jungkook found out Jimin had a crush on a pretty girl. Her hair were long and of a warm tone of brown, his legs were long and she was overall very femenine.

🌸He ran away a few nights later, the rain partially covering his tears. 

🌸Rolling another time, he takes his phone from the bedside table, scrolling through the list of contacts.

🌸”Fuck,I’m so gonna regret this”

🌸He types fast, his heart explodig in his chest.

🌸”Hi, how are you? I know it’s been three years since we last talked, but I was thinking about you, and I still have your number” With his hand shaking,he waits for an answer that maybe is never gonna arrive.

🌸”Uh, sorry, I changed my phone and I lost all of my contacts. Who’s this?” I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t.

🌸”Sorry, I must have the wrong number. Bye.” What a fucking coward.

🌸 “No… Are you Jungkook? You ran away three years ago. How’re you? I miss you.” Holy fuck, this is your occasion Jungkook!

🌸 “Uh, no, my name is not Jungkook. Sorry buddy, goodbye. I’m sorry for your friend” he smacks his head so hard that he can see the stars.

🌸 “Oh.. Well… Maybe I wasn’t that much of a friend if he ran away like that and disappeared. Probably he hated me or something.” Shit. 

🌸 “I’m sure he didn’t. Maybe he had reasons to do it.” Yes, way to go, nochu.

🌸 “Thank you, you are really kind. Uhh… maybe we can text another time? :)” OH HELL NO

🌸 “Yes, sure!” What the fuck.

🌸 They texts each other almost everyday, telling stories and horibble puns. But Jungkook knows Jimin. He knows what is going to happen.

🌸 “So, we text so much but I don’t even know your face. How about we meet?” Okay Jungkook, you can do this. You can’t disappear another time. You can’t do this to him.

🌸 “Yes, but I’m not sure you’ll like me”

🌸 The next day, Jungkook waits Jimin, seated on a bench of the park they always went as kids.

🌸 Jimin arrives, more beautiful than ever, with his new orange hair and the body of a greek god.

🌸 Jimin sees him: his childhood friend, the boy he loves so much but was so scared to terrify with his feelings. A tear falls from his eye, soon others to join it.

🌸 Jungkook is crying too, dampening his jeans, fearing a rejection.

🌸 Before they know it, they are hugging so tight they can barely breath. Jimin can hear the sobs of the younger on his ear, and he kisses the brown soft hair, threading his hands in them.

🌸 Jungkook finds the courage to talk on the older’s neck.

🌸 “I tried so much to forget you. I run away because I was scared you would find me disgusting. I’m so sorry Jimin. I loved you. I still love you.”

🌸 Jimin sqeezes him, a tear wetting the younger’s hair.

🌸 “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.”

anonymous asked:

which elders do you think are kinky and which ones are vanilla,,,



In order from kinkiest to most vanilla:

And even the I don’t see them as being TOO kinky like some handcuffs, maybe food play, a couple of toys here and there nothing too WOAH

they still are smol young 19 year old boys remember guyys

Wang Kon (Scarlet Heart Ryeo! Wang Eun)

Type: Fluff

Request: Hi!! Can I get a scarlet heart ryeo scenario for Wang Eun? (:

Eun eyes were wide as everything at the just born baby “why does the baby look so gross?” he asks. You turned to him out of breath and overly sweaty with glare,‘was that all he had to say?’ you askes yourself, he was disgusted with you baby’s out of womb appearance and he didn’t ask about yours or the baby’s conditions. “I want to be alone” you told him. He looked at you with shock “what? Why?” he asks “leave me alone” you spoke as he was ushered out by the servants who were assisting the doctor. You smiled as you heard the doctor mention you and Eun have a son. You were handed your small son “hello Wang Kon” you spoke taking his light features in as your eyes began to water. 


As soon as he was out he was bombarded by his brothers asking him about the baby “she gave birth then she kicked me out” Eun pouted. “What did you do?” Baek-ah ask “all I did was say was the baby looked gross-” he was hit by his brother “do you even know the gender?” Jung was asked “well no she kicked me out before they brought the baby back” Eun said. “Did you hold her hand?” Won askes “she almost broke my fingers” Eun protested grasping his fingers remembering the pain.

“She was pushing out a baby. I think you should have taken it for her” Wook says. “Hard to believe he’s the first of us to have one of those” Yo says as they all nod. Eun smiled “Y/N and I enjoy our time together” he spoke “you won’t be having that for awhile she’s gonna be taking care of your child” Wook states as Eun’s smile drops. “But we just started” he protests. Your first night as a married couple proved that you two were highly fertile and there was the proof, your first child.

You cooed lightly at the small boy who looked terrified of his new world “I know this world is scary but you have a family to keep you safe” you whisper to Kon running your fingers over his black wisps of hair. Soon you heard the door open “jagi” you heard as you rolled your eyes “Y/N can I come in and meet the baby. You kicked me out before I could know the gender” Eun spoke. “You were too disgusted by your son’s appearance to check” you said as he smiled. “You said son. We have a boy?” he says as he rushes over “Wang Kon” he says as he sits down on the edge of the bed. Kon was the name you discussed for a boy and Choa was the name if you were to have a daughter.

“I’m sorry I’m not useful during your labor. I just didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want to screw something up that could be damaging yours and Kon’s health” he tells you as you give him a sad smile. You reach up and grabbed his face as he leans down and gives you a kiss. “Hold your son” you inform as he said “can I hold him?” at the same time. Smiling you sat up and past Kon over to his father. “Welcome home Kon. I’m very glad you’re here” he coos.


“This is my boy” Eun spoke proudly showing his brothers his now two week old. You wanted to show them Kon the day after he was born but Eun wanted you out of bed first. “Ah took you long enough” Jung tells his brother but Eun seemed to ignore the comment “Wang Kon, he’s a happy baby. He really doesn’t cry unless he’s hungry or needs changed” Eun babbled on while you sat behind him listening to him go on. “He also really likes toys. He smiles when I bring him a ball but Y/N usually takes it and tosses it away” Eun pouts “he’s too young” you say as he turns “a boy is never too old or too young to enjoy a ball” he says turning to you.

Kon was soon taken from him by his uncle Wook unknown by Eun who was holding him while the two of you began bickering. “Our son will have toys” he spoke “yes, when he’s older” you tell him “I barely have a say in Kon and I want him to have toys now” he spoke stomping his foot. You gave him a look “I’m standing my ground” he told you slightly scared “next week I will give him a toy and you won’t stop me” he says crossing his arms. Then he realized Kon wasn’t in them and started looking around catching glance of Kon being surrounded by his many uncles.

Kon stared up at them searching for the only male face he knew when he wasn’t able to see it his face changed. “Is he alright?” Won asked only to be startled by the loud cries from Kon. Eun quickly stepped over. Once he came into Kon’s teary vision he stopped crying almost instantly. “He seems to know well who is father is” Baek-ah spoke patting his brother’s shoulder. “Kon knows who I am” Eun mumbles to himself a large smile on his face the whole time. To think two short weeks ago Wang Kon wasn’t as big of an impact on Eun as he is now.

You know what makes me so fucking angry? 

I have a little cousin who is around seven and he is a very gnc little boy, and my family has a gross history of denying him toys and clothes and hobbies that he wants because they are girl things. This week I was in touch with his mother and she was telling my mother how he started asking her if boys can have their ears pierced, too, and that he wants it. She obviously didn’t want that so she told him that he was too young and that he has to grow up first.

And his 1 year old sister got her ears pierced against her will when she was one week old. I pointed that out to her, and she said, “well yeah, but she’s a girl”.

Girls are expected to suffer. Girls are meant to suffer, and to be branded as the lesser sex; the second category, the subhuman. My heart goes out for my little cousin who has so much suffering ahead of her, already marked in her body with metal and pink. My heart goes out for every little girl, because I have been there, and I know the marks it leaves. I know how hard recovering from the trauma of having your girlhood stolen is.