#And I hope it won't be too far in the future ;u;

[thewirewitch]

Gotta love rethinking my life while being down with a mystery illness and being like, "I wanna do this in the future, as long as I have one" because I keep having mini mortality crises.

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.

synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son... content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au

It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much. 

He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed. 

A bed... A home...

Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life. 

Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers. 

This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.

Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box. 

It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not. 

Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route. 

The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room. 

Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms. 

"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him. 

"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."

"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes. 

"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows. 

Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?" You tilted your head. 

"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him. 

Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."

"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."

"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby. 

"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction. 

As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered. 

It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way. 

"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"

"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded. 

"I'm well aware."

"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out. 

Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction. 

"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"

Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."

[hannieehaee]

Idk if you're taking requests but I would give it a short and it would mean so much if you actually wrote smthg bout it.

An angsty fic/drabble where woozi and reader are in a long term established relationship and the reader gets their absolute dream job opportunity but it's far from Korea and she tells it to woozi but they get conflicted since woozi cannot transfer between his work and seventeen and reader does not want to give up this once in a life time opportunity. At the same time they are sceptical about a long distance relationship since reader had already been fed up of how less they get to see and stay with woozi with him travelling and working constantly.

You don't have to write it if it's too complex but I'd love to see cuz I really like the way you write!

content: idol!woozi x nonidol!reader, established relationship, light angst, fluff, long distance relationship, etc.

wc: 716

a/n: thank u so much!! im so sorry for how long i took to get this out!!

masterlist

it'd been a week since you told jihoon about your new work opportunity. a week since the air in your apartment became just a little bit colder and the future slightly more grim.

jihoon had been supportive immediately, congratulating you and insisting on you accepting the position. he'd been as supportive a boyfriend as he'd been in the past two years of your relationship. it filled you with warmth and hope for the future of your relationship.

it wasn't until you'd let him know of the location of said job that things became more sad than hopeful.

although he still maintained his supportiveness, there was now a clear air of worry in his voice any time it'd get brought up.

you'd tried to ignore it, pushing it aside until you found the courage in you to actually accept the position. it was your dream job. a once in a lifetime opportunity. except it was an entire country away from the love of your life. and you only had three more days to accept the offer letter they'd sent to you.

the thought of doing long distance would have been fine had you been anyone else. but you barely got to see your boyfriend as it was. living with him was really the only way for you to spend time together. his busy idol schedule had him going all over the world, and when he was at home he was usually ever at the company or in your shared apartment.

if you left, you'd give up on ever getting to see him.

"babe."

the voice took you away from your train of thought. the same train of thought distracting you for the past week.

you looked away from the tv that had been playing in front of you. you hadn't even been watching it, but the background noise helped.

jihoon was at the entrance of the living room, two mugs in hand as he walked over to you and took his usual seat, silently handing you your mug with a tight smile.

not even a single sip from your drink was taken before the subject filled the room once more.

"you need to take this job."

"jihoon ..."

"no, listen," he turned his body to face you, "you and i, we're a forever thing, okay? i don't care if we have to be away for a while. i'm already living my dream, it's unfair that you don't get to do the same," he argued with conviction in his eyes.

"but, jihoon ... it won't be like when you're touring. we'll never be in the same country at the same time, i-"

his hands went to take your mug, placing it on the coffee table before taking your hands into his own.

"i don't care!", his voice raised without meaning to, "so we'll have a year or two in which we can't be as close as we've always been, so what? it won't matter in the grand scheme of things. we'll be together for forty- no fifty years. a few years of uncertainty won't matter a few years from now. babe, please."

his voice pleaded at you.

he was afraid you'd end it all instead of at least trying.

what made it worse that he refused to consider a possibility in which you didn't go and follow your dream. it was a done deal to him. he loved you that much.

that was all you needed to make a decision.

"i'll take the job," you said decisively.

jihoon released a sigh of relief right away, hand squeezing your own in encouragement.

"i-i'll rent a place big enough for the two of us over there. i'll ask for a week off every six months. i'll have it written into my contract so i can go visit you. and- and we'll keep this place here for any time you have time off. we'll call every night, no matter what. even if it's just for two minutes, we'll- we'll make it work."

all you could do was smile at him.

how could you ever worry about change when he was willing to work so hard to move along with it all?

you kissed him then, shutting him up with no words.

and he understood, kissing you back with just as much unspoken love.

[cheeseboi420]

Of A Feather - Chapter One Preview

A/N: hi everybody!!! I am super duper stoked to present u all with the first 2k words of Of A Feather, aka the "what if Jason's bio mom didnt SUCK" fic. Im hoping to have the full chapter ready for publishing in the next week or two! Big thanks to everyone who's talked to me abt this fic so far, and an ESPECIALLY big thanks to @jayladfanpage for basically being my jaybin encyclopedia while i work my way through this fic!!! This warning will be more applicable in future chapters but it should be noted that this fic is NOT canon compliant and does significantly change/recontextualize a couple things about Jason's background, but you the audience get to find out about all that in real time alongside Jason lmao!! Anyways, without further adieu, please enjoy this preview ❤️

You expect this evening to play out like the one before it. And the one before that. And the one before that. Your routine hasn't changed in the last 13 years. Why should it? It serves you well enough, keeps you alive and… Well, that's about all it does for you. Not that you're looking for more! For the most part, you are… content, maybe isn't the correct word. Complacent fits a little better, but still isn't wholly accurate. You're content in the knowledge that your boy is safe and loved, somewhere far away from the trouble that chases you. You're complacent in your own quiet misery. The longing and loneliness had been a bitter pill to swallow those first few years of running, but after this long you've learned not to complain. God knows no one would listen if you did.

You've got a shitty box pizza in the oven. This will be your dinner, tomorrow's breakfast, and tomorrow's dinner. You won't particularly enjoy any of the meals, but they'll sustain you well enough. These days, food brings you little, if any joy. Meal times are a chore to slog through before the distraction that work brings or the sweet embrace of sleep. You look forward to, more than anything, going to bed. Not because you're tired (though there is a bone deep weariness that permeates- that no amount of rest could ever fix) but because bed means sleep, and sleep means dreams, and dreams mean a chance to hold your baby again.

You don't dream of Jason every night, but every morning, you wake thinking of him. Is he still asleep right now? Having breakfast? Is he eating well? Is he happy? Is he happy? Is he happy?

By the time you push your way through breakfast most mornings the cacophony of thoughts revolving around your son quiets to a dull roar in the back of your mind. It's better that way, you think. If you thought about him as much as your mind seemed to want you to, you'd never get anything done.

Life carries on, you suppose. However dreary and dull that life may be.

At one time you'd found the whole thing very exciting- though not in a particularly enjoyable way. The adrenaline rush has worn off over the years, no longer do you feel as though death is nipping at your heels. The paranoia never fades though. Even if your doom does not cast a shadow over you, you're always looking over your shoulder, always ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

You keep a bag packed and ready in the closet by the front door for when you have to leave this place, too. Though, you think it's buried under a winter jacket and your spare blankets. You really ought to dig it out, keep it easily accessible. You should do that but… it's been a long day. You want to eat your shitty pizza, lay down on your futon, and let the sound of tv static fill your studio apartment, lulling you to sleep.

You're getting too comfortable here, you think. You've lived in Michigan for nearly a year now. It is simultaneously entirely too close to and entirely too far from Gotham. The apartment itself was a godsend after spending most of your time sleeping in cars, tents, whatever unfortunate business was willing to employ you, anywhere you could, really- sure it has bugs, and the windows don't close all the way, and you're fairly certain it'll only take one more bad winter storm for the place to come crumbling down, but rent is dirt cheap, and the slumlord you rent from didn't ask for any ID when you signed your ‘lease.’ You're fairly certain that thing's not legally binding anyways- it was written on a cocktail napkin for Christ's sake. That didn't stop you from using a fake name when signing it. You can never be too careful.

You haven't seen your landlord since you moved in anyways. You don't ask for maintenance when things break, you fix them yourself or just learn to live with them broken. You deliver your rent by slipping a cash stuffed envelope with your name (your fake name, the one you signed your lease with, the one you use at work, the one you'd use at coffee shops if you ever went to any) on it through the slot in the office door. You do your best to be invisible. You don't cause problems, and you don't go out of your way to fix them for others. You make no friends or enemies. You've left no impact on the many places you've been, the cities you've drifted through.

The only evidence you've gone anywhere at all in your life is a stack of postcards, held together with a worn rubber band, sitting at the bottom of your go-bag. The only evidence of a life lived before that is in a similarly bound stack of polaroids, held together with a too-small paperclip. Every now and then, you'll buy a bottle of cheap wine to chug as you pour over the old photographs. Only when you leave for a new city do you dare to touch the stack of unsent postcards.

You can't bear to look at the photos too often, a painful reminder of your own failings. A reminder of the stupid, reckless little girl you'd been and the shell of a woman you'd become in the aftermath.

It's all your own fault, really.

At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

It's easier to swallow than the alternative: that you were a vulnerable and unloved thing, eating from any hand that would feed you, until the hand that feeds decides to beat.

This, you think, is why you shouldn't think too hard about the past. It doesn't do you any good to dwell on it.

You force yourself to focus on the present, on the here and now. The scratchy polyester blend of the futon cushions, the scent of cheap cheese melting in the oven, the distant sound of sirens, and howling wind outside your apartment. There's no sense in thinking about Gotham now, not when you're so far from it.

You sit up on the futon, no longer content to lounge and let your mind wander. Instead you task yourself with flipping through channels on TV, seeking something mind numbing enough to distract you from your unusually strong urge to reminisce.

The Wonder Years? No, you don't want to watch anything about a family.

Alf? No, that puppet creeps you out.

Cops? Fuck that.

You're about to resign yourself to another night of murmuring the (mostly incorrect) answers to Jeopardy questions at your tv, when you're startled by a knock at your door.

A… knock… at your door.

No one ever knocks on your door. You don't get mail, you don't have friends, if your landlord wanted something, you're willing to bet the greasy bastard wouldn't be willing to haul himself all the way up to the fifth floor at nearly 10 PM.

Oh God… Did… Did he find you? Is this it? Are you going to die in the upper peninsula of Michigan, of all places?!

No, no. You have to stay calm. This could be anything. It's just a knock at the door. It could be anyone!

Oh lord, it could be anyone.

You keep the tv on, hoping that the sound of Alex Trebek grilling folks on useless trivia will cover your footsteps as you creep towards your front door. You hold your breath as you press yourself against it, double checking that all three of your locks are secure before you risk a glance out the peephole.

When you look out into the hall you're surprised, and frankly a bit confused by the sight before you. Standing at your door is a boy, dark haired and bright eyed. He stands straight but not particularly tall- he can't be more than five feet. He's glancing around the hall, rocking back and forth on his heels. He's wearing a red sweatshirt and jeans, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Despite his small stature he holds an air of determination that makes you think he must feel quite old for his age- you get that, you were the same way in your own youth. A chip too big for your shoulder.

You're so focused on studying him that it startles you when he leans forward to knock again. You jolt, accidentally kicking the door (with your bare feet too, damn does that hurt your poor toes) and responding to his knock-knock-knock with a solid knock of your own.

“Hello?” The boy calls. “Anybody home?”

“I don't have any money!” You call back, cursing yourself for the shake in your voice. You should not be this rattled by a random adolescent on your doorstep. “So, if you're selling popcorn, or cookies, or whatever, you should try next door.”

The boy rolls his eyes.

“I'm not a boy scout!” He says. “I'm looking for-”

And then the shoe drops; he says your name. Your full name. Not your fake name, that you use at work, and on envelopes, and in hypothetical coffee shops. Your real name.

It takes every bit of emotional regulation you can muster not to spiral into a full blown panic right then and there because good God, did He send a child to finish you off? The cruel irony is not lost on you. Come to think of it, this boy on your doorstep does bear an uncanny resemblance to-

“My name is Jason Todd,” the boy continues. “And uh… well, I might be your son?”

He could be lying, the logical part of your brain insists. This could be a ploy to get you to open the door, don't open the door! But your hands are moving on their own, shakey as they may be. The first lock twists unlocked with ease, the second takes a fair bit more of your fine motor function, and by the time your shaking hands reach up to unhook the chain on the door, you're struggling to see through unshed tears. You attempt once, twice, three fucking times to get your hands to cooperate and unlatch the damn chain.

Fuck it.

You open the door, yanking it inwards, towards yourself as hard as you can. It should probably unnerve you that the flimsy chain breaks at the first sign of real resistance, but that's not what's important right now.

What's important is the boy standing before you- your boy. Your Jason.

He looks as surprised as you feel, his eyes flitting between the broken chain, and you.

For a long moment the only thing you can do is look at him, reacquaint yourself with the sight of him. Of course, you know that he did not stay frozen in time, the way your memory of him is. It's been many years since you've held that babbling toddler. But knowing and seeing are two different things.

He's small for his age, is your first thought. Your own fault, you're certain. Between a premature delivery and your own malnourishment during that first trimester, it's a miracle he'd survived in the first place. Small, but well fed. His cheeks are full and flushed. Despite his size, he seems healthy. Good. That means Will's been feeding him. Hopefully, it means they got the hell out of The Alley, into a nicer neighborhood.

His hair isn't as curly as you'd pictured it- too short in most places to hold a curl, save for his bangs, which seem to almost form the shape of a heart over his forehead.

“Jason?” You can barely manage to say his name through the lump in your throat. You find yourself suddenly struggling to focus your gaze on him, the haze of tears welling up in your eyes makes it difficult to see. You try to blink them away but instead they roll down your cheeks.

God, when's the last time you cried?

You reach out to him, cupping one of his cheeks in the palm of your shaking hand. He leans into the affectionate touch, and you're reminded of puppies, overeager and seeking love at every opportunity.

“Mom,” he says back to you, his tone just as reverent as your own. “Mom,” he says again, voice crackling. And then, in unison, the both of you have pulled each other into a crushing hug. You can't tell if the sound you make is a sob or a laugh. You hold onto Jason like he'll vanish into the ether if you loosen your hold for even a second, one hand clutching at the back of his sweatshirt, the other at the back of his head, petting his hair as he buries his face in your neck.

Finally, at long last, your heart is home.

SO. What do we think folks. Are you hooked? I hope youre hooked. Please be hooked. I wanna talk to people about this fic so damn bad. Please send anons or dms or literally anything. When the chapter is complete I'll be putting it up here as well as on my ao3, which I'll link to! Thanks so much for reading and i hope yall are enjoying yourselves so far! Send me an anon or a dm if you'd like to be included on the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @leirobles

[neyafromfrance95]

i loved galadriel's arc in s2, but not as much as in s1 and there are many different ways in which it could have been better.

i loved that she was shown to struggle with the denial of her taboo feelings for halbrand and with reconciling them with her hatred of sauron, now motivated even more to personally slay him. i loved how she was annoyed for not being in the leadership position instead of elrond, showcasing her ambition for power, leadership and personal persecution of sauron. i loved the battle, how she was the one to start fighting and did not stop fighting even tho sauron almost begged her to.

i agree with everyone that the dialogue was weak. however, i don't think it's really about the dialogue. i never believed galadriel would give in to evil!sauron (her willpower, pride and fear wouldn't allow it), but the temptation for power and the recognition of connection are there, so i wanted to see this crisis and angst displayed more intensely. i can forgive it, as it can be explained by galadriel setting her mind and spirit on blocking her personal emotions off and switching to the kill mode. but only if we see that personal, intimate struggle moving forward.

if she really overcame her interpersonal conflict with sauron and the darkness... it would simply be so out of character and inconsistent, that the only explanation would be that sauron really stole her soul and replaced her with a watered down galadriel who would give a lesser headache to elrond and gil-galad, lol.

first of all, there was no temptation in that battle, really. sauron didn't propose to her for the second time, he was set on breaking her down till she gave in to him (again, nenya=galadriel). yeah, he told her that the door was still open but he sought submission from her this time around (s1 finale was darkly romantic, s2 finale was darkly romantic too but even more so darkly erotic, if u know what i mean).

it doesn't make sense for galadriel to be devoted to and obsessed with slaying sauron for centuries only to get over it after battling him only once. it doesn't make sense for her interpersonal conflict to be resolved after the interaction where she emotionally closed herself off after the whole season of displaying the scandalous levels of mental illness and loser behavior over that man, lol.

i think what the majority of haladriels are discontent with, is this impersonal attitude galadriel had throughout the battle (save for a very impactful and significant reaction she had to halbrand, and other microexpressions). and i agree, i want her to scream at sauron for killing her brother, for betraying her, for deceiving her ("it was just an illusion" counts tho), not about the free peoples of the middle-earth.

but here is the thing. the reason why i feel uneasy about galadriel's attitude here, it that i'm anxious about the possibility that they won't get to come face to face in the future to have this sort personal of clash (fingers crossed 🤞 that the mind-palace is re-introduced in s3). but i do believe that it makes sense for galadriel to be closed off as a defense mechanism when she first saw sauron. he was changed, so she felt detached from this new form she wasn't adjusted to. it would make sense for her to "explode" emotionally only as the culmination of a slow realization that halbrand *is* sauron.

and as for the darkness, it would feel weird for her to be "healed" from her own darkness by the two men who kept lowkey "slutshaming" her.

now, there is a hope that they are going to *subvert* the viewer expectations and she is going to experience the effects of finally having touched the darkness, learning how to find the light even though there is the darkness in her. that would make for a far more interesting character journey than her not having to make decisions and mistakes bc she is an one-dimensional good girl.

as for the things i would have loved to have seen in s2:

galadriel being alienated and bullied as a child and only having finrod who understood her was hinted at in the beginning, but it would have been great if we had some more flashbacks expanding on this in s2. it would help the audiences to really sympathize with galadriel's obsession with revenge more.

and it would have been so cool to see the flashbacks into her quests and crusades, her knight adventures, how she actually started to *enjoy* fighting and power while the darkness crept into her heart, to the point it became part of her, to the point sauron became an intrinsic part of her identity. after all, she was so obsessed with the idea of slaying him that she turned her back on heaven, her home and risked literally everything for him.

and i mostly talk about galadriel/haladriel in this blog, but i have to say, im disappointed with the overall treatment of the female characters in this season. my third favorite character after gal/sau is miriel and i feel like she was sidelined in numenor plotline too. going into the sea was epic and showcased how worthy and dignified she is, and i absolutely adore her chivalric romance with elendil, but it still felt like they could have done much more with her, or at least given her a pov.

idk, i hope s3 improves these flaws of s2 and doesn't cater to the incels, but their loudness is worrisome.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Headcanons of Lucifer watching his s/o and Charlie getting along and maybe even having a little musical note together I just know he'd be getting all teary eyed and shit seeing his baby girl having some form of mother figure or someone she can really look to for advice currently present in her life ❤️ Thanks sm hope u have a good day/night!

Absolutely!

I think at first the relationship between Charlie and anyone her dad dates is awkward because she's so nice and trying to be supportive and Lucifer's new s/o would be trying too hard to create that bond. But steadily, you two would find real things you have in common and begin spending time together.

I'm going to use myself for reference here, but I personally really like arts and crafts kind of stuff and am willing to listen to pretty much all genres of music as long as I like the beat/rhythm. So I imagine most of your bonding is done making posters for the hotel, doing crafts with the guests, and just in general vibing to music together.

Like, one suggested activity for the group is coloring because it's a good outlet and it becomes so popular you guys just have a permanent stack of coloring pages and books available with marker, pens, colored pencils, and you, Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie are all just coloring and talking, Lucifer's telling embarrassing stories about baby Charlie for you and Vaggie, and you share a few embarrassing stories of yourself to make Charlie feel better and the absolute relief on her face is palpable.

Charlie is nervous because some sinners critiqued her hotel, her appearance, how her dad had to bail her out in the fight against heaven and it's all just making her upset. And of course her dad and her girlfriend are gonna say stuff about how she's beautiful, the hotel is a wonderful idea, and she was so brave in that fight. And like, yeah you're dating her dad and you've been super nice so far, but when you sit down next to her and ask quietly, "Can I offer you some advice?"

"Please? I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."

You laugh, patting her shoulder. "You're young, Charlie, you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But one thing you can do, is decide not to let judgemental pricks get to you. Take every criticism with a grain of salt. Improve, adapt, and filter out bullshit. You can't make everyone happy, and you'll exhaust yourself if you try. So as long as you're happy and at the end of the day you can say you're proud of what you've done, that you tried....well, that should be enough, right?"

Charlie thinks about it and nods. There's a visible shift in her attitude. "Thanks, I needed to hear that....Do you think you could help me read through some of the reviews and stuff? I want to improve if there's any genuine issue that I can address and Dad and Vaggie are....a lot. They just keep trying to tell me everything is perfect."

"They're just trying to hype you up. They love you a lot, so naturally they want you to feel successful and excited. Come on, let's go make some big bowls of ice cream and read through those reviews using silly AI voices. It'll be hilarious."

You and Charlie head off to do just that, talkin and laughing, and neither one of you notices Lucifer absolutely melting into the floor from a few floors up, as he clings to the railing he was leaning against to ease drop. He's gonna need a few minutes to recover. He's crying happy tears. His little girl is grown up and getting along with his partner and they're spending time together and enjoying things together. You're giving her advice and offering her comfort and meeting Charlienat her level and he's just more convinced you're perfect.

He may or may not be ring shopping in the near future. Probably with Ozzie and Bee. They've always had good taste and will probably be thrilled to help him. And if Ozzie is also casually looking for a ring while they're out, well, Lucifer won't say anything.

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

[spectersgf]

— cake by the ocean 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

pairing: harvey specter × reader

summary: birthday + boyfriend + beach = recipe for pleasure

warnings: smut LOL (hopefully tasteful?) (thigh riding, making out, etc.) (also tense changes? yikers so sorry gang)

wordcount: idk girl i wrote this on my phone (edit: 2.4k)

a/n: as i type this, i am sat on the beach in thailand. i'm thinking of being here with harvey. i hope u enjoy but honestly, this one is entirely for myself <3 — can be read as a continuation to beach getaway or as a standalone

(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)

"towels?"

"got them."

"flip-flops?"

"got them, too."

"sungla-"

"sunglasses, water, snacks, spf, digital camera and polaroid camera. got them all, baby. don't you trust me?"

you look over at harvey, seeing his incredibly smug smile, and raise one eyebrow. "is it a crime to want to be prepared?" you ask incredulously. this was not the first time you'd been to the beach together, but you were always meticulous. something was always left behind and you hated paying the inflated rate for anything at the beach.

"i promise you, y/n, i have prepared. i won't let anything ruin your beach day, especially today," he told you, his tone blunt and smug, but still tender.

it was your birthday and you wanted to spend it at the beach with your boyfriend. you'd always felt a pull to the ocean, feeling most at peace and like yourself by the water, so what better place to spend your day. harvey agreed, and made a trip out of it, renting a beachside cottage for the two of you for a long weekend, even taking a few days off work and vowing to turn his phone off.

you huffed in response to his words but didn't argue further. worst case, you'd have to walk back to the cottage. it wasn't far at all, literally just across a footpath.

harvey took your face in his hands and smiled down at you, lovingly, tenderly. "i love you. let's go have a kickass, but relaxing, beach day."

you smile up at him excitedly and take one of his hands in yours, dragging him to the door, bag in tow. "then let's go! go! go!"

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

the walk wasn't far at all. you walked out the front door and across a footpath and there it was. a patch of soft golden sand and an expanse of water. you gasped and immediately pulled your phone out to take a picture of the view. harvey continued walking ahead, clearly in such a rush, so you took the opportunity to take a sneaky picture of him with the beautifully serene backdrop and quickly set it to your phone wallpaper.

suddenly too excited to wait any longer, you stripped off your thin t-shirt and threw it at the back of his head, leaving you in just your bikini top and denim mini-skirt.

"bet you can't catch me!" you shout towards him as you zoom past, straight towards the water with your phone still in hand. harvey just chuckled and followed behind, not running due to the bags in his hands and the need to stop and pick up your discarded t-shirt.

once you reached your loungers, you threw your phone down and stripped off your skirt, ready to go straight into the water. by this time, harvey had caught up to and was placing the bags down on one of the side tables. you heard him wolf-whistle and giggled, flattered since it was your boyfriend doing the whistling and not a stranger.

"looking super sexy, baby," he told you, stars in his eyes. you were wearing a white triangular bikini top with matching bottoms, cheeky but not obscene, and you felt good. the white emphasised your tan and your hair hung down your back in waves, making you feel like a mermaid goddess. you smiled in response to his comment, shaking your head slightly. "why don't we skip the ocean and just have sex on the beach?" he winked suggestively, causing you to snort.

"you're so stupid, that was terrible," you giggle.

you started walking to the water, ready to get in and have a soak, when you felt a pair of toned, strong arms circling your waist and before you knew it, you were up in the air.

"let me down, let me down!" you shriek, still giggling happily even though your feet weren't on the ground.

"as you wish, baby," harvey replied, voice deeper and tone filled with mischief. he started to jog a little until he was deep enough in the water to drop you.

"don't even think about it, harvey specter," you warned unconvincingly.

he dropped you in the water.

and he was in hysterics over it.

you couldn't help but join him. after all, you did want a soak. you looked up at him from the water and noticed that he was still fully clothed. you smiled at him, now sharing in his mischief and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to join you. his white t-shirt soaked through, exposed his buff upper body.

"all that boxing's really working out for you, huh?" you tease, throwing him a wink as your way of returning his earlier favour.

"oh yeah? working out for me or for you?" he asked, equally as cheeky.

he started stripping off his, now soaked, shirt and you can tell he's trying to be playfully seductive. you play along and wolf-whistle, the way he did to you, followed by pretending to rain money on him as if he was your favourite stripper in a club. he was laughing and amped it up, holding it above his head and swinging it like a lasso.

"god, you're such an idiot, harvey specter."

"you love me for it."

"sigh. i suppose i do."

he comes closer to you in the water and picks you up with ease, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. you snake your fingers into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. he's been growing it out slightly, per your request, and he's gone without gel today so his hair is holding the most precious wave.

"hi," you whisper, smiling as he leans in to kiss you.

"hey," he whispers back before catching your lips in a sweet and tender kiss.

well, it had started sweet and tender. but both of your half nudity mixed into the semi-public setting meant that it didn't stay that way for long. his tongue traced the seam of your lips and you graciously opened your mouth for him. you tugged his hair lightly from the root, causing him to groan. the sensation made you moan in response and your legs tightened around him. one of his hands tangled into your hair, not pulling it but just staying there. your kiss grew more aggressive and messy, moving together in a dance of passion and desire.

you pulled away, lips swollen and panting slightly, before immediately latching onto his neck, sucking and biting your way down until reaching the point where his neck and shoulder meet. you follow through on your overwhelming urge to bite him here, and he groaned again in response.

"what are you, a fuckin' vampire?" he asked, seemingly frustrated, but not with you directly. you only smile against his skin before he pulled your head back up by your hair. "we should stop here before anyone accidentally walking by gets a very x-rated show."

you sigh and jump off him, still staying close to him and holding his hand. the pair of you walk back to the loungers and you settle on yours, soaking up the sun. you hear harvey settle onto his and looking over at him, shamelessly checking him out from behind your sunglasses.

"c'mere." he gestures to his own lounger and you playfully grumble, as if you weren't silently praying that he'd offer.

you resettle on his lounger, straddling him while he sat back into the backrest.

he was still half-hard.

you smiled to yourself and he could instantly tell why. his face flushed and he just mumbled a noncommittal 'shut up' even though you hadn't said anything. you decided to taunt and tease him anyway, starting to very slowly and barely noticeably move back and forth against him. he winced and placed his hands on your hips, trying to stop your movements. he was unsuccessful and you were able to keeping grinding against him until he was painfully hard against you.

you flipped your hair to one side and leaned in closer to him. "do you think we could get off just like this?" you asked seductively, biting your bottom lip and a challenging glint in your eyes.

harvey never backed down from a challenge. you both knew this. as he watched you work your hips back and forth against him, like an erotic poem come to life on top of him, he knew this would be no different. "no reason why we can't try," he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss.

his kiss burned you from the inside out. it electrified your soul. his lips worked against yours in a way that perfectly mirrored the movement of your hips. his hand wound back into your hair but this time, he did pull it. he pulled it from the root, the way you loved, and he simultaneously bit your lower lip. the combination caused a broken moan to escape your lips and the movement of your hips stuttered.

you pulled away and grabbed his arms, pulling his hand from your hair, and pinned his hands against the cushion of the lounger. your movements against him became more forceful and purposeful after you removed his distractions.

"i'm in control now. this is for me, for my birthday," you tell him, voice gravelly. he could only nod in response but there was a fire set alight in his eyes as he watched you take your own pleasure.

your body burned with desire as you chased your high, using harvey's body in the way he once taught you to use a pillow. your movements became frantic once again as you craved more friction.

"i think your poor cunt needs my cock, baby. she won't be satisfied otherwise," he taunted from underneath you. his words sent a shiver down your spine and you shuddered, feeling yourself get even wetter.

"i disagree," you reply, trying (and failing) to reach an orgasm without his help. unfortunately, he'd practically ruined you and you knew it would be better with him. regardless, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

without you realising, he'd slipped one hand out of your hold. he used his thumb to slightly pull back your bikini bottoms, sticky with your arousal. you moaned and rolled your hips into him in response, happy to have one less barrier. he moved to remove his shorts, but you shook your head and instead just pushed them up his leg on one side, leaving his thigh bare.

"what are you-" you cut him off by rolling your hips against his thigh once, twice, three times, and then just riding the thick muscle. "oh, fuck," he choked out, clearly shocked at your actions. but his shock didn't stop you. "y/n, you're dripping all over my thigh, baby. you're making such a mess."

you moan and increase the speed in which that mess was spreading. you were panting and hair was starting to stick to your face from sweat induced by, both, the sun and your desire.

"want it like this, please," you whine, very obviously needy. "please, i need to cum."

"do you want my help?" harvey asked in return, his voice a rich baritone that only made you (and your pussy) need him more. you nod pathetically and whimper to emphasise your point and the look he gives you is dominant and slightly condescending, mock pout adorning his handsome face. "poor baby, you need something from me? thought you wanted me to keep my hands off, hm?"

"no, i- i didn't know. you always know what i need, harvey, please." your movements on his thigh become sloppy, the increased moisture making it hard to feel anything. harvey took pity on you and used one hand to still your hips, causing you to whine again. but his other hand he brought to your wet pussy and used your arousal against your clit, stimulating it so deliciously.

"fuck, harvey, please," you breathily moaned, head thrown back slightly in pleasure, showing off the marks he'd left on your neck the night before. he groaned at the sight and rubbed circles on your clit faster. he let one hand on your thigh and tapped it, which you took as an indication to move.

with both hands on his deliciously bare and sweaty chest, you started to move your hips again, riding his bare thigh while he circled your clit.

"look at you, baby, so desperate to cum on my thigh," he murmured. "keep moving like that against me, good girl. i'll get you to where you need."

more than his words, his tone of voice was bringing you closer to your climax. you loved when he got dominant like this and talked you through your orgasms. it was truly yummy.

"i'm close," you told him, punctuated with a moan and a long, deliberate roll of your hips against his skin.

"i know, baby. i can feel your sweet cunt clenching around nothing against my thigh. but you didn't want anything inside so you're just going to have to cum like this."

you could feel tears in your eyes as your movements became sloppier, messier, faster, more frantic. his circles against your clit didn't change. they stayed purposefully steady, exactly the contrast you needed.

you threw your head back and moaned loudly as your orgasm hit you. neither your nor his movements halted as you rode your high against his muscled thigh.

"fuck, harvey, harvey, so good, please," you moaned, fireworks shooting through your entire body. he just watched you beautifully rut against him until you eventually stopped, body twitching from overstimulation.

you fell on top of him, skin sticky from sweat and kissed his chest. "thank you," you mumbled quietly, suddenly shy and desperate to hide your face.

harvey tilted your head up by your chin and smiled at you incredibly sweetly. he pulled you up so you were at eye level and leaned in to give you the sweetest kiss, lingering for a few seconds. when he pulled away, he kissed your forehead.

"it was my pleasure."

"i feel bad; that was selfish. let me do something for you, please." your eyes searched his, worried he'd be upset.

"i don't think that's necessary, baby. it was literally my pleasure." he gestured to his crotch and your eyes widened in realisation.

"oh my god, harvey. in your pants?" you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.

"like a fuckin' schoolboy, baby," he admitted, not shy to hold his hands up. "happy birthday, sweet angel. and boy, oh boy, is she sweet."

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

whew. not written anything like this in a long time and i don't think i've ever written like this publicly. okay! if you enjoyed it please tell me !!!! i am insecure !!!! i need to know !!!! feel free to comment/reblog and send in requests !!!! my asks are open !!!! or send me a message !!!! ok thank you ily bye !!!!

taglist: @shadowinthedarkknight @strawberriesareprettycool

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

ASSMU Behind the Stage Ver.A [Tokiya, Ren, Camus, Eiichi, Van] - Translation

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

Ren: Oh, it's already this late? We got so caught up in our conversation. Since our interpretation of the song has deepened, shall we take a break?

Camus: Yeah. Just thinking about it won't help generate good ideas, so we need to take in some sugar and give our minds a rest.

Van: Alright, in that case, I'll pour drinks for everyone! Oh, you two over there, you’re staring at the sheet music with such serious faces. What’s wrong?

Tokiya: I have felt this since we received the sheet music, but the part entrusted to us is indeed very important.

Eiichi: The song is structured to begin with our voices, without any prelude, so the listener’s first impression will be deeply influenced by our delivery.

Ren: There's a good kind of pressure, right? I'm also curious about the ladies' reaction, and every time I sing it to myself, it makes me even more eager to stand on stage.

Tokiya: That's true. However, we can't just enjoy ourselves. It will be a test of our abilities.

Eiichi: I suppose we’ll have to decide wisely.

Van: Well, it's important to stay focused, but taking breaks is also necessary. Here’s yours, Toki-chan.

Tokiya: Toki-chan? … No, never mind. Thank you very much.

Eiichi: You were saying you needed sugar, right? Camus, help yourself to the refreshments I brought. No need to hold back. Take as much as you want.

Van: I’m good, but I'm sure they’re delicious especially since Ei-chan put a lot of effort into choosing them!

Camus: Alright.

Tokiya: Actually, I also brought some sweets to share. I hope they suit everyone's taste.

Camus: I’ll accept.

Ren: (chuckles) More than anything, we want to be able to work together in harmony like this.

Van: Ren-chan! That was a great line, as usual. Let's keep communicating more and more! (puts an arm around Ren)

Ren: (laughing in surprise) Hey. I didn’t say you had to go as far as to put your arm around my shoulder.

Van: Now, now. By the time of the actual performance, we might even get so close that we surprise the Angels! No, maybe even the members would be surprised. You too, Toki-chan!

Tokiya: U-Uh… Um…

Ren: You're still as high-energy as always.

Eiichi: Even rivals can be comrades at times. Let's aim to build a good relationship, beyond the singing lessons.

Camus: Hmph. What’s the point in going out of your way to liven up the conversation? We can perform just fine without all that unnecessary back and forth.

Ren: Does this mean you acknowledge the abilities of the members here? (chuckles) But, it’s always better to have a good relationship, right?

Van: That’s right, Camus-chan!

Camus: … Camus-chan?

Van: How about we take this time to chat until the sugar you put in your cup of tea dissolves completely? After all, we've got just the right members here for exchanging information.

Tokiya: If you have any unique training methods, I would like to take this opportunity to learn about them.

Eiichi: Your stoicism surpasses what I heard. It seems like it will be a beneficial time.

Camus: Information, huh? I find it hard to believe that there’s something I don’t know, but if you’re willing to lay your cards on the table, I’ll listen.

Van: No, no. We’ll have Camus-chan join the conversation too. Let's start with a light topic first. Relating to the snacks we have here, how about we discuss everyone's favorite types of sweets?

Camus: Oh?

Tokiya: That's wonderful as well. I'd like to use that information as a reference for future gatherings.

Ren: If it's something healthy, will you eat it too, Icchi?

Tokiya: Please don’t worry about it. I’m looking forward to hearing your selection.

Eiichi: I see. That goodwill between both of you is truly good! I'm sure it has an impact on your performance.

Tokiya: I think you might be exaggerating a bit.

Van: Camus-chan, you already ate the snacks from earlier!? That was quick! Were you hungry, by any chance?

Camus: This much is nothing. However, I still haven't finished my tea.

Eiichi: Hmm. You have something you want to talk about, don't you? Certainly, you should have an advantage when it comes to sweets.

Camus: I didn’t say that much. I simply meant I would have some more sweets.

Ren: (chuckles) You’re not being honest. In that case, let's all have a relaxing tea time together for a little while longer.

[outsidereveries]

old asks from curiouscat (15th july 2024 —19th july 2024)

15th July 2024

do you know if haseul from r u next is still training to become a kpop idol and is chanelle going to be one of the new fifty fifty members?

runext's haseul | ace of swords, 3 of swords rx, strength • 4 of swords

she's not trainee currently. she hasn't closed the door for becoming an idol though, she's resting for a bit.

chanelle | the hanged man, the fool rx, 10 of wands rx • 7 of cups

to be honest, i don't see her there, though someone else from r u next might debut there.. however i am not sure if that is actually true (apart from chanelle and youngseo, i mean)

can you reading for nct dream's upcoming comeback? what will the charts be like both in Korea and globally?

korea | ace of pentacles, temperance rx, the empress • 10 of pentacles

i'd say like usual, but might not chart that good. someone might comeback with them and do way better.

outside of korea | high priestess, king of wands, the sun • knight of swords

way better, might chart somewhere? i don't feel and see much :|

is yoongi mad about any of this situation? (hybe vs ador)

9 of cups, the devil rx, the hanged man, 5 of pentacles rx, page of swords, the emperor • 3 of pentacles

to him, it was time for hybe to fail too. somehow.

similar to namjoon, he also expected something to happen. maybe not between hybe and ador specifically, because he hears things from here and there and he seems to believe they're far worse than this public fiasco (i am calling it like that). he is finally relieved (won't say it public though) that hybe have a serious scandal like the majority of the companies because noone is perfect.

honestly, suga doesn't want to say much because he knows TOO MUCH. he listens and remembers for DECADES even if he doesn't want to and he actually told hybe to not test him.. more than once. i'd be really worried if he actually tells something publicly, because if he does, hybe might be really doomed.

he isn't mad. he feels mixed because he wanted hybe to have even more serious scandal, way more serious one. he questions himself was this the way hybe has to start to slip off. he wants them to suffer cruelly, way more than it's now. he hates the corporation as it is and really wants change in it. he hopes for min heejin to make it in the end because he doesn't want to ruin anyone's future when he returns, including bts' group future and he really knows it.

how do bts members feels about the hybe vs ador thing?

rm | the empress, justice, temperance • 10 of pentacles

he seems to be fully on min heejin's side. he judges hybe .. a lot. i'd say rm really expected them to fail, lol

jin | knight of pentacles, the lovers, wheel of fortune • the magician

jin told me a tea that i am allowed to share in the most uncensored way possible😱 so there was an intimate offer to min heejin and she actually refused to do it!! this seems to be additional information.. thanks to jin for the gossip🥰 (i am not ironic with the emojis, deadly serious)

so because jin knew this information, he expected something to happen and he isn't suprised. he also seems to be on her side because to jin min heejin has dignity unlike other people.

suga | strength rx, 5 of wands rx, the hanged man • 3 of swords rx

he seems to be extremely passive and .. very dissapointed. he didn't expected this to happen, especially from bang sihyuk. suga feels really mixed and doesn't know how to react properly.

j-hope | the devil rx, 9 of swords rx, the lovers • the magician

hoseok is trying to be optimistic. he hopes everything will die down in the end and both sides find a solution that will be satisfying for all of them.

jimin | knight of wands, 8 of swords, king of cups rx • 6 of swords

compared to suga, jimin feels even more betrayed. he knows how he feels though, he really regrets renewing his contract with bhm and hybe. he wants to focus on himself and move on. he doesn't want to see them again, at least currently.

v | page of pentacles, 4 of swords rx, strength • the hanged man

he expected it to happen, he was aware of how ador were treated compared to other companies. he believes in min heejin and he feels she'll win the battle in the end.

jung kook | knight of cups, king of swords, page of cups • the star

he tries to gather information about it through other people and doesn't have a specific opinion that is somehow set in the stone. jung kook know what's going on but not the exact details that will make him form his actual opinion.

overall, all members seem to be on min heejin's side despite jungkook's unfinished thoughts and suga/j-hope/jimin's mixed feelings and trying to be neutral or not saying as much as i personally expected. and the gossip jin allowed me to share publicly (allegedly, we don't know if this is true or not) made me shocked because he intuitively said to me to not censor myself and that he's fine with sharing it publicly😭✌🏻

is it possible that aespa will disband soon or their popularity will decrease and they will experience hate train again? or get involved in controversial events...

5 of wands rx, ace of cups, 9 of cups • 8 of cups

won't disband. their relevance seem to be stable enough. i doubt there'll be hate train or will get into scandals.

so roughly, when it comes to their popularity, everything seems to be okay as they have stable fandom.

will i’ll-it’s comeback be successful in korea and will their reputations be recovered or is it too far gone

queen of cups, judgement rx, the moon • 2 of wands

it seems to be pretty much gone. success-wise, i'll-it at its best will be talked quite negatively mainly because of their debut and belift/hybe's mistakes.

is YG happy with the results Babymonster gained so far?

the world, the tower, 5 of swords rx • 4 of pentacles rx

"it's not what we expected."

yge expected baemon to blew up in similar way to blackpink. comparing to treasure, yge are more frustrated.. so no. they're not happy.

does any member of newjeans knows about shifting and if they do, did any of them shifted here?

Minji | 3 of wands, 2 of pentacles, page of cups • 3 of pentacles

Hanni | 2 of swords rx, 9 of swords rx, 7 of cups • the high priestess

Danielle | 4 of pentacles, 5 of swords, 10 of swords • 2 of cups

Haerin | knight of pentacles, wheel of fortune rx, page of wands, ace of cups • ace of wands

Hyein | king of cups, the high priestess, king of wands rx • 6 of swords

all of newjeans seem to know about it (for minji this is quite fresh topic so she might've learned about it recently), to be honest but noone has allegedly shifted from another reality to this one or the opposite.

danielle seems to be extremely persistent to switch to elsewhere, she is extremely attached to this reality. the other members haven't thought about it, but seeing from the cards, they are leaning towards they'd prefer to stay here.

hanni on the other hand in other universes might've shfited (if our reality is no. 1, from reality no. 2 to reality no. 3 and etc.).

can I ask about how successful would Road to Kingdom 2 be with Taemin as a host?

the lovers rx, the tower, the world rx • 7 of pentacles

with one word, disaster. mnet should give up trying with similar shows at this point.

will aespa be able to continue its rising career in the same way?

3 of pentacles, page of cups, 7 of wands • temperance

i am not sure because of the company themselves. as of not, i doubt they'll continue to be as relevant as now.

can you share short reading about RIIZE Seunghan? 1. does sm have plans to bring back seunghan in riize? 2. what's delaying his return? 3. when are we possibly getting an update about seunghan? 4. are fan support projects for seunghan doing anything good?

1: 3 of pentacles, death, 3 of cups • the sun

yes. like cosmos said when they asked, around riize's anniversary. i see the same thing as them too (i am unaware of cosmos' pronouns, sorry, they're youtuber if someone's asking)

2: ace of pentacles, 10 of cups, 4 of pentacles rx, king of cups • 5 of swords rx

it's pretty much seunghan himself, he seems to want to do a suprise this time.

3: queen of wands, 4 of swords, 8 of pentacles • the hermit

as of now i doubt it will be before the period when riize's anniversary happens, it will be around that time.

4: the devil rx, 4 of cups rx, page of pentacles rx • 3 of swords rx

they are neutral. helping or not, it's .. blank. seunghan is very thankful for them, though.

how is the relationship between the ive members and starship ?

Yujin | 2 of wands, the tower • the emperor

basically, she communicates with starship the most. to yujin, they are extremely selfish. if she wants x, they'll make a offer y that will satisfy the company. i've learnt other things that i'll save to myself because they're extemely personal to yujin and i don't want to ruin anyone's image.

Gaeul | 5 of wands rx, 2 of pentacles • justice

i don't think they communicate that often. they talk when they have to.

Rei | death, 10 of cups rx • the fool

it seems that recently haven't talked much.

Wonyoung | knight of wands, strength rx • the lovers

so and so, could be better. same as yujin, i've learned things that i will save them to myself.

Liz | the emperor, the star • 3 of wands

she communicates with them through someone from ive (maybe yujin) and she feels optimistic for her solo path.

Lesseo | judgement rx, the moon rx • 3 of pentacles

similar as gaeul, they talk when they have to. recently the dynamics are way worse and starship'd prefer to talk with her only if it involve ive, like in emergency situations.

what is the possibility of fuko from iland 2 debuting soon?

the moon, 3 of pentacles, knight of cups • knight of swords

fuko seems to be independent as of now. there's a company that offered her a secure spot for upcoming girl group (like, coming in a few months). she hasn't decided yet whether she'll accept or not.

therefore, depends on her. if she accepts, almost 100% because something unexpected can always happen. if she rejects, i am not sure how much (like percents).

how the public views mai from izna during their debut?

depends on which outsiders.

korean: temperance, ace of swords, 10 of pentacles • the devil rx

currently they like her and can see why she will debut with the rest of izna. nothing much to feel and see this time😓

international: the sun, 8 of pentacles, 9 of swords rx • 6 of wands

they (will) like her, maybe a lot. she might have more solo gigs outside of korea, though.

does youngseo want to continue her idol life/return to the idol industry or has she given up? does she still keep in contact with any of the illit members?

[has she officialy gave up?] 3 of cups, 8 of pentacles, 7 of cups rx, king of cups rx • 10 of cups

she has given up, she lost hope and faith she'll succeed in this industry, especially when she turned against her former subsidiary. they watch her too obssesively..

therefore, i don't really believe she's trainee in another company. the 8 of pentacles though can turn into the opposite answer where youngseo is again in similar situation as she was in the past with belift/hybe but i really don't feel it. sorry :(

[communication with the rest of i'll-it] the fool, 7 of wands, 4 of pentacles rx, king of cups, 7 of cups, 3 of cups • 10 of cups

despite pretty much the optimistic cards, the king of cups (someone from belift) forbids i'll-it to communicate with youngseo. they want to talk with her like before, belift don't. however, youngseo also don't want to communicate with the group. so no, they don't.

can you do a reading about pledisngg about the members and their future success?

general check: queen of pentacles, the hermit, 3 of pentacles, knight of cups, wheel of fortune • 6 of wands

so far 2 trainees are more visible:

• queen of pentacles seem to be a visual who's into fashion (and money). i am unsure if she lacks vocal training but with the hermit next to her, she might lack it

• knight of cups seem to have similar vibe as blackpink's rosé when it comes to the idol life. she's here for all of it and loves to sing (and produce, and write the songs, this stuff).

apart from that, nothing much. it looks like pledis is aiming for female seventeen when it comes to self-producing

success: 8 of swords rx, king of swords, 5 of swords rx • the chariot

yes, it can be successful. i see the girls will manifest their relevance and popularity though.

will baemon release a successful song that lacks the yg aesthetic?

2 of cups, king of pentacles, 4 of pentacles rx • 7 of cups

when the founder steps out, sure. until then i don't think so..

17th July 2024

what's relationship between Sion (NCT Wish) and Ningning (aespa) or what do they think of each other?

the world, the star, king of penracles rx, 5 of wands rx • 3 of pentacles

they aren't close but sion wants to know her better. however, he seems to not have the greatest intentions with her and it'll be better for them to be strictly colleagues. when it comes to ningning, she seems uninterested to know him.

what will aespa's next Korean comeback after Armageddon be? concept, genre, lore, vibes, high notes and etc?

the moon, king of pentacles, the magician rx, judgement, 5 of swords rx • 5 of wands rx

when it comes to their next korean comeback, it won't be like aespa personally want. i see someone (king of pentacles) who will limit their comeback sound-wise.

their concept seem to be not polished but will rely on what they've doing after spicy era so far. i don't see the concept being "light" (i.e. spicy, better things), it looks like it'll be similar to drama mv-wise and sound-wise (comapred to supernova+armageddon, drama sticks waaay more).

for the hybe and ador controversy, how it’ll be affect seventeen for next? will they or pledis part ways?

how the drama influence 17: 5 of cups, the moon, 10 of pentacles, knight of swords, the devil rx • 5 of pentacles rx

the group are dissapointed from what the corporation has been doing and are uncertain of their future. they really believe it'll be better to enter into military at once as much as possible (except from the foreigners in the group as they're free in this case) and just not think about it. on the other hand, when it comes to money, that makes somehow the boys more greedier than expected because they're already thinking of their solo paths. it looks like the boys want to separate their way after their contract ends in any way, so for their desires to not continue they aren't influenced because of the situation, they wanted it anyways. they know their ceo isn't at fault and he's innocent compared to .. everyone else who's at fault. seventeen really believe they can negotiate everything for better amount that was planned by them.

seventeen's path and the drama's influence: the devil rx, 5 of pentacles rx, 6 of pentacles • king of cups

the boys are thankful for what pledis have done so far, but they believe now it's the time to move on with their individual desires and i feel they start to not believe the corporation enough, i.e. whatever hybe gave, they'll receive back.

pledis' path and the drama's influence: 2 of swords rx, ace of swords rx, strength, 4 of pentacles rx • justice

the company wants to separate from the corporation but are aware they rely on seventeen a lot (like how yge are with blackpink) and if they leave pledis and hybe, it makes their separation impossible. they are also aware that leaving might not benefit them currently also because they have to pay x amount for separating, so unless tws do decent too with the time, they'd prefer to not act.

which team in f1 next year will be on the top? is max verstappen’s still dominant for winning too?

i'll try to see indirectly the next top team: the magician, 4 of pentacles rx, 8 of pentacles • the hermit

the team is pretty much known. with the bottom card, i see the team not being red bull racing as they might do worse compared to the other with the most points in the future. my pendulum bets on mclarren.

red bull racing and how they'll do next year: 4 of cups rx, ace of cups, the fool • the world

the team will do like usual but will change some people in their team (including adrian newey) that will make other team/s do better. still, the team will be satisfied of how they're doing their job. i believe they'll still do well, so therefore the points they'll have might be closer to the teams that are better than them (allegedly).

do you think soobin will get solo project (like variety show or solo song or collab) this year? it looks like he's the only member in txt who doesn't have this year :(

the hermit rx, 9 of swords rx, 8 of pentacles rx • 7 of cups

soobin works on something.. pretty much alone. since 7 of cups is the bottom card of the deck, i am assuming he's currently learning the details of acting, like how to express himself properly and etc.

there might be something with the cards i am seeing, but i am yet unsure if he's just practicing or working on something while doing that at the same time, therefore i'm really unsure of the answer itself whether he'll have solo gig/s this year or not. sorry if it's not what you expected but soobin might be unsure either :(

19th July 2024

will KISS OF LIFE be more popular in Korea, internationally or both?

Local relevance: the lovers, 2 of swords, 4 of cups rx • the world

Might not be as relevant as desired at first in the future as they might do things that they will be done for the first time. When it comes to their popularity, KIOF should be cautious of their future actions as it might be good for the foreign places but not in Korea. They might not be as impactful as Hwasa years ago in the end.

Outside of Korea: judgement, knight of swords, 8 of wands • 7 of cups

This spread is a lot better. Based on what I see, KIOF will have cruicial moment that will make them popular internationally. They have the idols who can be relevant in variety shows in one way or another (I see especially Julie) and they can make it work outside of Korea.

In Korea it seems to be less likely to make it BIG in the end comapred to the foreign lands. KIOF also have the potential to do it there but .. it's yet to be seen if it can compared to BLACKPINK. Overall, internationally >> Korea.

[dayseternal-blog]

hello days! i hope i'm not bothering u. can i pls request for uzumaki fam fluff fic recs? 🥺

i kinda need ☀️fam fluff boost running in my system 🥹🤲

thank u in advance! love lots. i hope u are doing well~ 🤍🍃

Des 💝 I'm sorry this is over a year late. You're probably not in need of this anymore, but -

Sunshine Family Fluff Fics

Ones I can't remember if I've rec'd before:

"Sunshine family" from "Some Type of Love" by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. Hinata has to go grocery shopping for their Christmas Eve's diner coming in a couple of weeks. A quick job that won't take too long. Until the rest of the family decides to tag along.

"The Last Stand" from "The Little Joys and Sorrows of Everydayness" by Imanga - Rated T, Canon-Compatible, One-shot. In a desperate attempt to get themselves out of an uncomfortable situation, Naruto and Hinata risk it all.

"The Ramen Recipe" from "The Little Joys and Sorrows of Everydayness" by Imanga - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto enjoys a Father’s Day morning in bed with his family.

"snug as a bug" by @secrettastemakerland - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Apparently, being afraid of thunder storms was genetic. Luckily for them, Hinata deals with it just fine.

"A Not Surprising Surprise Party" by secrettastemakerland - Rated G, Canon-Compatible, One-shot. Kawaki comes home from a mission on November 9th, only to find the house unusually quiet...

And the ones I've recommended before:

“Music” from “With You in the Future” by @chloelapomme - Rated E, Canon-Compliant, Series of related one-shots. The benefits of music on babies, but also on couples.

“Strawberry” by @cherryjutsu - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Naruto shares popsicles with his son just as Jiraiya did with him.

“Cooking with Dad” by cherryjutsu - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Prompt: I truly believe Naruto can cook.  It’s a personal headcanon of mine that he always had the skill but never bothered to do anything with it from both laziness of twelve years of no one to show it off too. When Himawari and Boruto are born he wears the apron to make their favorites just to see them smile. His favorite little taste testers.

Untitled by cherryjutsu - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, Drabble. Prompt: Can I ask prompt? Boruto as a little kid asking his Dad how he lost his arm/how it’s all bandaged up? Thank you!! <3

“Fort Uzumaki” by @itachiboutit - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Family time during a bad thunderstorm.

“missing out” by @flowerslut - Rated T for language, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Prompt: Naruto training with himawari and being proud of her.

“Our Whiskers” by @nekomamoru - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Prompt: Whiskers

“for you” by nekomamoru - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. A/N it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t slightly disappointed that Naruto had missed his inauguration but more than anyone, I think Himawari herself would’ve felt a little guilty so this idea popped up and I had to write it down. enjoy!

“The Apple Never Falls Far From the Tree” by @matchaball - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, Two-shot. Prompt: From chapter seven of the Konoha Hiden: where Naruto talks to his plants and Hinata presses flowers.

“Pranks” from “Your Hand in Mine” by @spyder-m - Rated G, Canon-Compatible, One-shot. After one too many tricks, Boruto sparks a prank war with his father.

"Day After Day" by spyder-m - Rated T, Canon-Compatible, Series of one-shots. Oneshot series exploring the day to day life of Naruto and Hinata post-The Last. Headcanons about them dating, living together and starting a family.

“To Welcome You” by @eliphya - Rated G, Canon-Compliant (?), One-shot. Naruto and his children have chores to do before Hinata comes home again. 

“Tickling Cheeks” by eliphya - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Himawari loves her fathers stubble and insists on him never shaving again.

“The Job He Never Wanted” by @alabasterink-blog - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. The swing was old and rotting. His children have a solution.

“Time Out” by alabasterink-blog - Rated G, Canon-Compliant (?), One-shot. Daddy didn’t like oranges. Himawari had a solution.

“Sunshine” by alabasterink-blog - Rated G, Canon-Compliant (?), One-shot. Himawari decides she wants to be just like her grandma when she grows up.

“Mama’s Boy 2: Like Father Like Son, We Love Her So Much” by basmah-chan - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. In which Boruto needs a little lecture on his hate for his mother’s hair ties, which leads to some father and son bonding time. Their topic to bond over: Hinata.

“Pretend” by @8bittheatrics - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Kids will be kids, and so will some adults.

“Bed Head” by @utsus - Rated T for language, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto and Sasuke are in charge of doing their daughters’ hairstyles for the day. Everything is a struggle.

“Sunflowers” by @myaekingheart - Rated G, Canon-Compliant (?), One-shot. Naruto teams up with his children to do something special for Hinata for Mother’s Day.

“Ouchimaki” by Tuvstarrs - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. To dress a toddler is an occupational hazard of parenthood that comes with a rather specific set of dangers. Naruto knows this but trying to explain that to your childless friends without sounding like an idiot is a completely different headache.

“his happy ending” by flyingonfeatherlesswings - Rated G, Canon-Compliant (?), One-shot. Boruto Uzumaki is less than enthused when a film about his father’s heroic deeds is released. He ends up dragged to it despite his protests and learns some upsetting details about his father’s early childhood.

“Mission impossible” by Saku015 - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Hinata goes out to meet her friends, so it is Naruto’s duty to look after his kids for a few hours.

I hope you are doing well, too!!!!

[snippychicke]

u asked for kuro ideas to write to riddle me this bestie:

some girl ate a devil fruit that gave her shapeshifting animal abilities so while shes in cat form kuro kinda..... adopts her, as a cat, not knowing.... OOPS THAT CAT IS ALSO HUMAN!

You're the best bestie for coming when I call. 😘 (And I mean, I was the one to pull you into One Piece Fandom anyways)

So here you go!

(Edited Sept. 29-- I needed more of this, so I finished the story. Hints of Spice but nothing to terribly nsfw)

--Set at a random port after the events of Syrup Village

We can all agree Kuro, more likely than not, loves cats.

Like, certified crazy cat dude. Especially black cats, but loves all cats to be honest. More relatable than humans, and far more reliable.

Then we have you, our animal-shifting devil fruit eater. Lingering around ports as a cat was a lot easier than being a human, and being a black cat typically guaranteed that you were more or less left alone by the superstitious sailors.

This makes it very easy to pilfer goods as a thief. You could scope out who has what and easily slip in and out without any questions

When you meet Kuro, you didn’t initially think anything of it other than he was one of the kind ones. You were used to many going ‘pssp pssp pssp’, but instead of an empty hand promising head scratches, Kuro actually had some smoked fish for you.

And well, you weren’t going to turn down a free meal. Or the scratches from ears to tail. The animal instincts that were usually wary of humans settled around him, so you weren’t to worry. He didn't even try for your belly as you laid on your side to enjoy the sunlight.

Unbeknownst to you, when you flopped down by his side as he sat on the pier (finding the ocean a nice place to figure out a plan for the future after the disaster of Syrup village) he decided right then and there that you were his.

Once he picked out which ship to steal, he plucked you from your sunbathing by the scruff of your neck and ran.

Before you realized what was going on, you were dumped on the deck of a small boat, the port drifting away. Yet instead of transforming then and there, you decided to hide as shouts and gunfire filled the air.

(Unfortunately, the fight-or-flight instincts were too hard to ignore in animal form.)

You weren't sure how much later it was when Kuro found you and tried to coax you from your hiding spot with food, but it was long enough for the island to be little more than a speck.

He was not expecting his new companion to shift into a human after they wiggled out of their hiding hole, their eyes narrowed in anger.

"What the hell?"

After a lot of confusion, arguing, and maybe some tense feelings, you do end up as partners.

After all, you're a thief of opportunity. But between his planning skills and your abilities, the sky is likely the limit.

The Marines are clueless that Kuro lives, and you're unknown considering no one thinks to link the black cat with the thefts.

A new version of cat burglary. You laugh about it, Kuro rolls his eyes, too cautious to believe your good luck will continue.

As it turns out, you both dream of an easier life. You share your dreams during the late nights sailing between islands while he listens quietly.

Part of him can't help but hope that since you have similar goals, maybe he doesn't have to be so cautious around you.

The hull is soon filled with stolen goods that you start selling to black market contacts into a diverse mix of stacks of Berries and precious metals and gems.

There are nights where you can't sleep, and you have been known to sneak into his quarters as a cat to curl up next to him, just to feel less alone.

He is well aware, though won't say anything. In the morning it will be like nothing happened, but through the night his hand will be on your back as you snuggle close to his chest.

He treasures those moments just as dearly as you do.

Kuro won't admit it, but he wishes you felt confident to come to him as a human as well. But he'll take whatever affection you are willing to give, because he is too cautious to ask for any himself.

When you start reaching the targeted goal, your heart starts feeling heavy, as does his.

Both of you had grown closer during your travels, slowly trusting in each other as well as falling in love.

You're not sure who suggested advancing the goal since things had been going so well, but it's unanimous. After all, better safe than sorry, right?

Between raids, you talk more about where you want to retire to, and sometimes will start adding to the others dreams.

Things take a turn when a theft ends up with some alcohol on board. And well, you deserve to celebrate a little.

Neither of you are drunk. Just relaxed. Inhibitions and walls lowered.

Kuro is the one who makes the first move, cupping your jaw like he would if you were a cat, and commenting on how brilliant your eyes are even as human.

One small little kiss quickly ends up with you in his lap, hands roaming each other slowly, studying the other. You indulge in the feel of the muscles he hides with his clothes. Running your hands through his hair.

He calls you beautiful. Claims you as his, calling you his beautiful thief. Kuro enjoys the shape of your body, squeezing and massaging your hips, waist, ass.

When you beg him please and admit that you need him, it breaks him. He carries you back to his cabin, to his bed. Admits to you how he had dreamed of this, how often he wished you would join him as a human, as he worships your body, carefully noting each little sigh and gasp.

Your nails digging into his back is bliss to him as he finally enters you. The careful, cautious part of him evaporates, leaving the pirate captain who takes delight in making you scream and beg. Whose strength and speed threaten to break the small bunk as he plows into you.

He says those three words as he comes, swearing he is never going to let you go. You're barely able to think straight after so many orgasms, and hope that your soft little kisses in the afterglow convey what you mean.

The fact you curl up next to him, human this time, and falling asleep says enough.

You do end up together in a small but bountiful town, a little townhouse with the comforts you both crave (and plenty of cats.)

… you also may take 'sailing trips' when you both feel too wild for your new life. Just once in a while. There are rumors of the ghost of Captain Kuro and an unearthly black cat that spread through the East Blue.

[11queensupreme11]

Imma gonna keep this simple:

I 110% agree with everything u said.

U didn’t miss even ONE box because I’ve been saying this all day and all I can say is that I am so deeply disappointed that this is our reality.

I had hoped that we learned from 2016.

We didn’t.

I had hoped we were done with this in 2020.

We weren’t.

And now it seems like we’ll never be free of this until, hopefully, the new generations are old enough to make up the majority.

All I do know is this.

This path that this country is walking.

This path that its chosen will never lead to anywhere good.

And if ANYONE needs an example of how bad it can get, all they need to do is look at the history of this country and others like it to see what the future holds in store when u repeat it.

Thank you for saying what you said.

It meant something to me to know that me and other Americans are not alone in this. 💖

seeing this gives me some hope, but the fact that trump is absolutely going to target the department of education concerns me cuz despite the votes, there ARE many gen z-ers who spout a lot of right-wing ideologies without realizing it.

gen z can be quite radicalized depending on the topic, even the well-meaning ones don't realize how far right they've gotten.

we are a very puritanical generation who values moral superiority and internet activism, and we're also not as educated and immune to propaganda and brainwashing as we like to think

we've got young men and boys regardless of race watching and listening to right-wing streamers and content creators like andrew tate, adin ross, etc. and being radicalized into becoming the most misogynistic pieces of shit ever

we've got girls and gays trying to be internet activist and thinking that they're sooo progressive when they're actually doing a 180 to right-wing puritanism without realizing it:

"dark media should be removed from libraries because girls might read it and endorse it because girls are STUPID",

"sex scenes give me the ick so we need to remove them all!!!",

"gay love stories should only go as far as hand-holding, none of that gross stuff because we're not DIRTY like those degenerates!"

"we need to remove all porn and degenerate stuff because it encourages girls to act like whores and men to treat women poorly!" (newsflash, misogyny existed long before porn did, so removing porn won't do shit, sorry guys)

^ it all sounds stupid and silly, but this sorta shit snowballs. they're yearning for the hayes code and they don't even know what the hayes code is 💀

(and again with the jill stein stuff too 💀 like i said, gen z likes to be morally superior and internet activists so some of them did vote jill stein thinking it'd help -- which only brings back to my point to how dumb and uneducated us americans truly are. i'm sure they were well-meaning, but this was not a smart move)

right now, gen z is mostly blue (we're in the 50s% which is lowkey concerning), but with these mindsets ALREADY in place and more men like andrew tate spouting up, AND trump ready to target education to dumb people down, i worry that the younger gen are going to be more vulnerable than ever

[ask-a-bot]

I...have come to ask for advice.

Megatron..? Do u believe that there is a future where you and optimus can truly be happy as a couple? I wish to have hope but I am in denial.. I wish to be with my prime but what if...our differences may become hindrance yet again...in future

And what if this time around there won't be any returning from that

you hold far more wisdom and experience

tell me what your spark speaks to you?

@ask-tfone-megatron

I hope we are living within that reality now. I realise now that I have longed for this. To be... united with him. I... I have been hurt and angry – bitter – for too long.

What is it that you want from life?

[mightyfloofy]

Talking a little on the recent mangas I've started reading this week😗✨📚(two of them are new to me, for the others, I've picked up on the manga after finishing their current anime seasons) 💚THERE MIGHT BE SPOILERS💚

1) Tomodachi Game:

So i think I've only read up to around 12 chapters or so and it's so good????

The roller-coaster of emotions it's making me have though- like i started loving Tenji with my whole heart and soul then he...disappointed me. Then he earned my trust again- a whole twist.

Yuuichi is a pretty good MC so far. Bro is a cutie.

Sawaragi pisses me off a little. Idk how to explain it though.

Yuutori my girl 💜

Shibe um... 💀💀💀 Yeah. And no i don't dislike him for what he tried to do in chapter 2 or so. I just... He's too dumb.

Also the art?????? Muah

I watched some scenes of the anime in the beginning after i read a couple of chapters and it's...disappointing. Even the animation is wonky.

But just- the art style has me in luvvvv

Manabu-kun keeps on gaslighting, gatekeeping and girlbossing every chapter.

Also, I'm praying for my boy Yuuichi's sanity. At first i was like "Sawaragi, i get hes cute but WHAT do u see in him??" and i see now. My girl has some amazing taste, at least for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2) Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

I've only read 4 chapters but this shit has me ROLLINGGGG

It's so funny pls

The art is also pretty good too. I'm not really a fan of Slice of Life, but this one hits.

Also, pretty boi alert:

My favorite character so far is this guy though:

He's so babygirl ✨✨✨✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3) Demon Slayer

So I started reading it right after the events of season 3, of course.

Giyuu's backstory lowkey hit home-

He needs a hug. I won't say more.

Tanjiro is precious, as always, just like Nezukooo (a loud 'Nezuko-chan' came in my and after i typed that)

Oh yeah, Zenitsu:

Me to Shinobu, "Doctor, hes out again"

Nah because he didn't have to chomp Tanjiro's sky wide forehead like that???? 😭😭😭

So i have two volumes of Demon Slayer at home and i gotta say, the art improved and it's nice to have seen it grow. I know it's like this for most mangakas, but here i didnt see a whole art style change or whatever but something becoming finer while keeping that style very present.

The story is at its peak right now, i reached up to the point where Muzan decided to heehee himself in the no-no place for him. (idk how to say this without spoiling)

I'm luving it so far

Also, my husband:

I miss his gorgeous face LAWDDDDD HAVE MERCYYY

Though i already loved him before seeing his face.

I've finally memorised the master's name: Ubuyashiki

It's an achievement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4) Blue Lock

Ok i can't add pics anymore but I'm confident most people know what it is without having watched it.

I wanted to share some nice Rin pics but guess it'll be for another time. (yall will be missing out on my man)

So, i picked up from where the first season stops and-

I miss Kunigami. A lot. He was one of my favs 😭😪

Shidou is special (him telling Isagi he'd love to see him explode again got me praying for him fr)

The story has taken a nice turn with the U-20 team rushing things up. I love it but i want to see Sae play already so I'm being an impatient little bug.

The art is MUAH as always. I love the lines added for light shading, ill probably inspire myself off it for future drawings.

Hiori needs to be friends with Chigiri so they can talk about hair products (Hiori is like a short-haired Chigiri with cyan hair. My boy has naturally long lashes (Rin's remain better 💅)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's all, folks!

I hope to read even more in the upcoming days and hopefully I'll get to talk about them like i just did above.

Expect headcanons from each of these mangas 💜💜💜

And you can even send me recommendations 😙✨

It's midnight where I am like damn-

Bye byeeeee

[prozacwhorehouse]

Could you write a story where the reader is dating zeke tyler and they hangout at his house and then shortly go to a festival on a Friday having fun being cute and this girl starts make jabs about why our you with him and talking bad about him and you defend him and he gets guilty and feels like u should leave him but you tell no u won't and hug him and kiss and everything.🤍

note: thank you for this request ! I love writing for zeke so this made me very happy, enjoy 💗

————————————————————————-

“y/n!” Delilah spots you in the hallway, skipping over with her books clutched in the arms. “hey,” you smile softly, turning towards her as you close your locker, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “you coming to the fair with us tonight? jenny said she has lots to tell us and angela has updates on her new boy toy,” she grins, raising her eyebrows to peak your interest. although intriguing, you already had plans.

“you know I would, but I’m going with zeke,” you remind her. her face drops, not attempting to hide the change of expression from you. more like she’s emphasizing it, like she wants you to see it.

“what?” you ask in an accusatory tone, somewhat harsh, knitting your brows together.

“you spend a lot of time with him, y/n,” she tries to throw you a bone, allowing you to finish what she’s inferring so she doesn’t have to say it herself. you’d never known her to hold back on something like that. she could practically major in bitchiness.

“so?” you ask, your face scrunching a little bit more.

“come on, y/n,” she scoffs, shifting her weight on to her other foot, cocking her head down slightly. “he’s a degenerate. seriously. we’re just, worried about you. don’t want him to ruin you, or anything,” she reasons. from an outsider perspective, for someone who doesn’t know zeke at all, her initial judgement isn’t far off. he’s a careless drug dealer, any friend would be concerned if their best friend became suddenly infatuated with a potentially corrupting person. but that was just on the outside. zeke wasn’t like that at all, to you.

“he’s not ruining me, Delilah,” you sigh, turning to start down the hall. she follows, watching her own heels click down the crowded hall. “he’s more than you think. if you gave him a chance, you’d know that,” you raise your brows, always the voice of reason. the bell sounds, cutting off your interaction.

“how about we get our nails done tomorrow?” you offer with a smile, a peace offering for bailing on the fair. she can’t resist a manicure, she never can, shown by the grin that spreads across her face. “im holding you to that,” she says as she turns to skip down the hall, in hopes of beating the late bell.

—————————————————————————

the festival was buzzing with life, people passing with cotton candy clouds of all colors, screams echoing from the rides, carnival lights flashing.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you nudge his arm slightly, nodding towards the bathroom.

“alright, you want anything? a coke?” he asks.

“I’m okay, thank you,” you reach up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, a faint blush forming on his cheeks along with a closed mouth smile. “I’ll be back.”

before you can get too far, he spins you back to him by the belt loops, his lips landing on yours.

“she’s got a bright future. you know that, right?” she asks, brows raised. the words cause him to furrow his, responding with a hesistant, “yeah?”

“it’s not getting any brighter, being with you,” she almost seethes, it’s nasty. hateful. but calm. like he can’t even fight her on it. he knows she’s right. any other day, he’d call her a bitch. On any other topic, he’d bite back. But he swallows, waiting for her to continue.

“you’re bringing her down, zeke. she’s never going to get out of this town with you holding her back,” Delilah says matter of factly. “I mean, Christ, you were held back. who knows how many more times that’ll happen. and she’ll stay for you. and she can’t afford to let that happen. do you understand what I’m trying to say?” she questions him like he’s just learning English. he feels small, less than - he always has, but this feels different. that people who aren’t the voice of his consciousness in his mind telling him she deserves more than him think the same.

he clenches his jaw and only very slightly nods his head, an acknowledgement that’s enough for Delilah.

“you need to let her go. she’s too good-“

“what the fuck, D?” they don’t even notice you’re back from the bathroom, catching the last bits of their conversation.

“y/n! you’re back!” she smiles, trying to void the conversation and dissolve the look of confusion and anger on your face.

“you don’t get to speak to him like th-“

“it’s all good, y/n. im exhausted, can we go home?” he pleads, and it’s not urgent, hurried - it’s sad. you can fight him later, not here. his tone and facial expression are pleading for you to leave.

“yeah, fine. let’s go. wouldn’t want to corrupt anyone else,” you spat, glaring at the group of girls. they look guilty, caught.

he turns, guiding you by the small of your back away from the group. “see you tomorrow, y/n!” she tries to offer peace one last time, only receiving no acknowledgement as you follow zeke to his car.

—————————————————————————

“since when do you care what Delilah thinks?” you scoff, confused as to how a quip from a person he would usually bite back at hit him so hard.

“she’s right,” he’s staring blankly through the dashboard, clenching the wheel harder in his fist.

you can’t help the shock that hits you square in the face, jaw slightly dropping. your next words catch in your throat, forcing out, “what?”

“she’s right. you’re to good for all this. for me,” his jaw tenses, not looking you in the eye.

you scoff, “you don’t truly believe that, do you?” silence.

“zeke,” you sternly say his name, an attempt to get him to look at you. no response.

“look at me.” still nothing. “goddamn it zeke, look at me.”

he turns to look at you, blinking back the tears he couldn’t possibly let fall, zeke tyler doesn’t cry.

you reach forward, inching closer in the seat as you cup his cheeks. when he looks back down, attempting to hide the break in his demeanor, you force him to look back up at you.

“listen to me. too good for you, too good for this- fuck that. are you kidding me?” you narrow your eyes, slightly shaking his head to get your point across. “you are just as worthy as anyone in this, stupid fucking town, and you should never let anyone make you feel like you aren’t. you’re smart, and you’re an asshole, but in a funny way,” you smile, causing him to softly laugh, “you’re incredible. i love you. you understand me? i. love. you.”

he grabs your face, pulling you to his lips. love isn’t something he was convinced was real - with you he found it possible.

“i love you, y/n.” he smiles, hurrying for another kiss. “so much,” he mutters against your lips.

“you’re crazy if you think I’d ever leave you. can’t get rid of me that easy,” you joke, softly pressing your lips against his, and another, and another.

you spend the night in his car showing him how incredible he is 😉😉