#I'll tag people as soon as I wake up tomorrow

[leighsartworks216]

Damn Him

Father!Zayne x Mother!Reader

I NEVER write baby fics or anything with kids and shit EVER. So when I got this idea and felt something deep in my core about it, I simply had to get it out of my system. I'm sorry ;-;

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, angst (at the end), family fic, breasts, Dawnbreaker, swearing

Word Count: 1,275

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Crying broke through the still night air. They crackled slightly, muffled through the baby monitor on your bedside table. Nonetheless, you were awake.

The bed is already starting to shift when you're opening your eyes. You blindly reach out and grab onto the soft sleeve of Zayne's pajama shirt.

"I've got it..." you murmur. "She's prob’ly hungry."

He watches blearily as you slowly push yourself up into a sit. "Are you sure?"

You hum, nodding. You let go of him and pick up the monitor, waving it in the air with a playful, yet sleepy, grin. "It's on my side tonight, remember?" You turn down the volume, set it back down and get to your feet. "Go back to bed, lovey. I'll be back soon."

Zayne sighs, but he stays where he is as you pull a cardigan of his around your shoulders. He listens to the sounds of your shared home: the quiet shuffle of your slippers, the hiccuping cries of your daughter, the soothing lilt of your voice as you calm her down.

He glances at the digital clock beside him. It's only 2am; there's still plenty of time to get enough sleep for work tomorrow. As much as his body wants to fight the exhaustion and join you, he knows you'd scold him if he tried. He trusts you, anyway. There's nothing he can do right now to help.

So, he slips back under the blankets and turns onto his side. As the blankets fall into place, the rustling silences, and he tunes back into the lullaby you sing. It leads him down into the embrace of a peaceful slumber.

When next he wakes, he's disoriented. He blinks droopily at the emptiness of your side of the bed, then at the clock that reads 3:30am. There's no distinct sounds coming from the baby monitor. Down the hall is quiet. Why aren't you in bed?

He pushes the blankets off of himself and sits up, sliding on his slippers like it’s second nature. The cool air of the bedroom doesn't bother him as he crosses the room and out the door.

The door to the nursery is wide open. Blue moonlight pours though, spilling onto the floor and up the opposite wall. He squints slightly as he peeks inside. Any fears he could have vanish as he sees you.

You're sitting back in the armchair beside the window, head tilted back at an awkward angle and mouth open around quiet snores. Your shirt is pulled down to expose one of your breasts. Your daughter is using it as a pillow as your arms securely hold her, even as you are fast asleep.

Zayne drinks it all in. Your sleep-rumpled hair and dark eye bags, the shimmer of a drool trail along your chin, the uncomfortable way the collar of your shirt pulls against the underside of your breast. Your daughter, Jasmine, his beloved little flower, clinging with her tiny baby fists to his cardigan you stole, her chubby cheek resting against your skin and the other catching a stray moonbeam. He considers taking a photo of the moment, though he eventually decides against it. His two girls need to be put to bed and he doesn't wish to delay that any longer. Besides, if nothing else, this moment has been seared into his mind. That is enough for him.

He's as quiet as can be as he crosses the room to the chair. Carefully, he slowly pries Jasmine's hands from the cardigan. Her body is so small and warm in his hands as he lifts her into his arms. Oftentimes, he's overwhelmed with the desire to hold her forever, to feel her tiny little heartbeat alongside his own. Just like people save ultrasounds or ink-presses of their child's feet and hands, Zayne wonders if it would be strange to save an echocardiogram as a memento.

She doesn't stir as he lays her down in the crib. Her long, dark eyelashes curl over her round cheeks, picturesque. Her onesie is covered in little snowmen. He should make one for her with his Evol tomorrow. He can only imagine the bright-eyed stare she'd give him as he creates such cute things out of thin air.

Leaning down, he presses the lightest of kisses to her head, just barely starting to see hair growth. Now to take care of the other girl in his life.

Nimble fingers pull your shirt back over your breast, drawing the open sides of the cardigan together to keep you warm. He debates between waking you or not. And although he really should wake you, he ends up lifting you from the chair and into his arms. The moonlight caresses his back as he carries you down the hall, back to your bedroom. He tucks your feet in first as he lays you down before pulling the blankets up over you. Just as he did with Jasmine, he kisses your forehead, willing portions of his soul to transfer to you in hopes he can somehow get across how much he utterly and truly loves you.

He grabs the baby monitor before he rounds the bed back to his side. He turns the volume dial back up and sets it on his nightstand beside the clock. You'll get onto him about it being your turn to take care of the baby for the entire night, a system born out of his tendency to do everything himself due to his workaholic nature. He'll accept the scolding come daylight. You'll forgive him. You always do. Even if it's with an exaggerated sigh and a fond eye roll.

He lays on his side to face you, the love of his life. He couldn't dream of being anywhere but here, by your side, as he allows sleep to overcome him once again.

-

He wakes up.

Hollow.

He always feels hollow after dreams like that. And why shouldn't he feel the weight of what is missing in his life?

His bed is empty save for him. The room down the hall is full of random stuff he can't be bothered to worry about. It's a guest room; he's not having any guests over, so why bother?

The void within him cries to be filled. It opens like a yawning mouth, only an unfathomable depth waiting within, yearning for that life. The life that doctor has. A life he can never have.

Never will he be able to wake up to your face right beside him. Never will he be able to hold his daughter. Never will he be able to have that life with you.

It isn't fair. It's not-

He presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, biting back the shuddering breaths and the sting of tears. He’ll be forced to watch his daughter grow up through that doctor’s eyes. And it’s not even his. He has no rights to make a claim on her. He never will.

Relegated to watching you grow old through someone else’s eyes, instead of being there with you, to hold and help and love.

The sensor beeps nearby. He turns his head to look, blinking away the moisture in his eyes and meeting the breaking dawn that shines in through the window. A red dot blinks at him. It’s only a few blocks away.

He imagines for a brief second if the victim this time was you.

You, carrying a little baby in your arms, calling him a murderer. The idea of taking her life-

He closes his eyes and wills the thoughts away. Damn that doctor for having the life he can never have. Damn him.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[kill4luvina]

This Action Will have Concquences

Part 2

Summary: You've been embarrassed ever since the incident with your boyfriend in the parking lot. He's been on you, not letting you even text or go out with any of your friends. While sneaking out to a club with your homegirls while he was away on a short business trip, you bump into Gojo, who takes you home and swears he won't let you go.

Content MDNI : Unprotected Sex, Cheating, Going to the Club, lowk some ghetto shi...and more. Also not proofread (the smut part mostly & i lowk rushed im srry yall :(.

tags ; @baddiereads

"Said you got a boyfriendFuck that gotta do with me? I know you wanna come slide through We finna fuck and then smoke on these trees"

Ever since that night, Gojo found himself thinking about you none stop. When he'd wake up, he'd have flash backs to that night. When he'd go to sleep the he couldn't help but picture your face and how pretty you looked drowned in pleasure.

He had tried to text you, call you, even ask others about you, but nothing. Confused and weary, he tried to ignore it for a few weeks, depression swallowing him whole. He had tried speed dating to get the idea of you out of his head, but nothing worked. His friends worried and forced him to go out one night.

You, on the other hand, had no access to your phone. That night, Toji took your phone, noticing how upset you had gotten with him, which made him believe you cared more about that man than him. While he wasn't right, he wasn't completely wrong.

You'd stare at the phone he had gave you in replacement of yours. The only number there being his, and your best friend whose number was hidden from him.

Luvina : We're going to the club today, i'll pick you up at 9..

You : wait, wait, i know he's on a trip but what he comes early? or i get caught up-

Luvina : You haven't left the house in almost a month you need to see people and have fun. be ready

You : ok

Your eyes would water a little; she was right, and you’d been having mixed emotions about him. You didn’t want to be with Toji anymore, but he treated you so well in a terrible, twisted way. Your head was spinning with thoughts as you looked at the time.

5 p.m. You quickly put your head back on the pillow, falling asleep to clear your mind. You’d wake up again around 7 before dragging your tired body to the bathroom. "Alexa, play 'Sumin' by Sexy Red,," you’d say as you got into the shower, the warm water waking you up.

"Playing 'Pound Town' by Sexyyred," Alexa would reply as the beat slowly started to get you out of your depressed state. Mid shower you'd catch yourself shaking a little ass, laughing as the excitement started to catch up to you.

"I'm F R E E Fuck Nigga Free!" You'd chant with the music playing in the back as you did your makeup in the mirror, dancing to the music. The music would dim down, and "Incoming FaceTime from Luvi" would be announced by Alexa.

You'd quickly answer your phone as Luvi started screaming in excitement, seeing how pretty you looked. You'd place your phone down in your PJ pants and cropped top, twerking a little as she hyped you up.

"Oohhh, whats the outfit idea?" She'd ask, you'd shrug as you fixed your lash extensions. "Alright, I'ma be there in like 45 mintues tho, i'm picking up Mimi n Juju." She'd say before you nodded and she hung up. You'd walk into your room before almost destroying your room looking for your best outfit.

"Incoming call from Toji." You'd heart would drop as you quickly turned off your phone. You'd quickly answer, putting on the fakest sleepy voice ever. "mmh?' you'd answer "oh, was you sleeping?" he'd ask.

"mhmm" "alright, i'll call your tomorrow morning, sleep well mamas." he'd hang up before you could say anything making you jump up and down in excitement quickly putting your phone on DND. You'd soon find yourself dress in a skimpy pair of jean shorts you had.

Ass completely out, and a tight-ass black crop top that barely held your tits from the bottom. The Cleavage from the top still showing, your nipple piercing wanting to be seen. You'd giggle at the thought of your man completely crashing out at the sight of you in an outfit like this.

You'd accessorize, wearing your favorite DollsDream bracelets along with one of your mans most expensive watches dripped in diamonds with a black face, and your custom-made Cuban link chain with your name on it.

The doorbell rang as you quickly ran to the door, your three homegirls screaming and hyping you up in excitement as they came inside. You'd run up to your room, quickly grabbing your black Rick Owens sneakers. Coming back down the stairs the moment they were completely on, your eyes lit up in excitement.

The bottles of Don Julio, Hennessy, Absolut Peach, and the carts had you jumping around in excitement. It had been almost a year since you had last been to an actual club, and you were going to turn up because it could be your last. Already knowing he would see you through the cameras later if he ever had suspicions.

In the car, you and your friends in the back seat of the Uber were turning the fuck up, Mimi shaking ass to the music as you all laughed, the alcohol already starting to take effect.

By the time you all were there, you were the only one out of the three of your friends who was only tipsy; they were about drunk as hell. You'd all enter the club cutting the line because Juju's man was the owner's close friend.

Around two hours into the party, you found only you and Luvina together on the dance floor dancing. Juju was with her man, and Mimi was flirting with a guy. "Y/n?" You'd hear a familiar voice, making you freeze up, going from grinding up against Luvi to now turning to find where the voice came from.

"Gojo?" You'd gasp, memories and embarrassment flooding you immediately. "AAA!" Luvina would scream, now on the floor laughing, drunk as hell. You'd be startled, looking down quickly and getting your friend up from the floor. "Y'all need a ride home?" He'd ask as he watched your friend's actions with a concerned manner.

"That would actually be wonderful," you'd smile, trying to ignore your friend, who was acting out for a guy who was staring at her from across the club. Obviously hinting it was time for her to be tucked into bed.

After dropping her off, you and Gojo silently sat in the car outside her house. "Gojo- about what happened-" you'd start as he looked over, intrigued by what you were about to say. "I—" you were at a loss for words.

"I want you right now." You truly meant it, but it was the alcohol giving you the courage to say it. "Right now?" he'd ask, confused and caught off guard. You didn't even realize when but you were now making out with him. A Sloppy and messy make-out session lasting for a hot minute as you slipped your hands into his pants.

You'd quickly remember you had a man, making you pull away quickly, guilt filling you as Gojo almost whined at you pulling away. "We can't do this I got a whole nigga omg.." you'd start to panic as gojo looked over at you.

"bro, fuck that gotta do with me & what we got going on right now?" he'd say starting his car as he'd start to drive, he only lived a few mintues away, your eyes looking anywhere but at him. The moment he parked in his driveway, he was all over you, bringing you the straddle his hips in the driver's seat.

You'd let yourself fall victim to all your sober thoughts becoming drunk actions. Slopply moaning and making out with him, the warm night air hitting your the moment he opened the door carrying you to the door.

"F-FUCK!!" you'd scream, as your hands flung to gojo's hair. Eye's rolling back as he devoured your pussy, on your 3rd orgasm as he ignored the aching of his dick tending to you. Completely ignoring his needs.

"Never gonna let you go." He'd repeat for almost the 100th time since he has gotten his hands on you. Bringing his head up to give you another sloppy kiss as he pushed his mouth agasint your wet and messy cunt.

Moaning into the kiss as you felt him enter, your eyes rolling back as you felt him start to slowly thrust into you. Your left leg resting on his shoulder as he held the other. "so- good!" you'd cry out as his fat dick stretching you out perfectly, even better then your boyfriends.

You'd rememeber about him for a second, until gojo started pounding into you. Your mind completely going blank as you moaned and creamed all over his dick. Your boobs bouncing as he pounded even deeper into you. Your back would arch as you felt the build up break, as you came all over his dick.

Squirting from this being your 4th orgasm of the night, your eyes watering at the overstimlation. Your hand weaking trying to push him away, as he moved it kissing your hand before going right back to ramming your shit.

"C-cumming!!" You'd scream, your 5th orgasm having you seeing stars, as he slopply started to slow down before busting a fat nut right in your pussy. The cum mixing with your fluids as he pulled out, watching it lowly drip out your wrecked cunt.

"too- good-" you'd say in between heavy breaths your legs shaking, gojo smiling at the praise. "Better than that other guy right?" he'd asked "yeahh-" you'd babble half asleep as he held your neck giving you a kiss before you were completely knocked out on his bed.

You'd deal with everything tomorrow morning, knowing that not being home by now was already terrible. Oh well.

(idk if yall fw this igu with a part 3 if yall ask in the comments)

"You and your nigga really ain't a fit Forgetting about him when I'm in the mix Shawty be bussin' when I'm on her clit"

[enchantedflameandflower]

Vincent Stevens x reader fic!

mood board by @kus-babygirl

We’ve got a new Vincent x reader multi-part romance! This was all entirely written by @kus-babygirl and her idea as well. I’ve done all the editing and added some bits here and there and she’s asked me to post for her! If you leave a comment make sure to tag @kus-babygirl!

Part 1

You had never imagined the most notorious womaniser in the city would ever fall in love with you, let alone completely change for you, but somehow…he did. Now you love him just as much and the two of you are here on your wedding day, saying your vows.

Okay, you’re probably wondering how you got here and who you’re marrying, so let's rewind to 3 years ago and start at the beginning…

You and your two best friends, Mia and Ayala, are out celebrating for your 30th birthday. Even though you refused numerous times before, as always, they managed to convince you to go out and celebrate with them. So here you are drinking and dancing to the most ridiculous songs known to mankind in a bar, but the three of you wouldn't change it for the world. 

After a bit, you need a break and you turn to Mia, touching her arm. “I'm going to sit down at the bar, my feet are killing me in these heels,” you shout over the music.

“Alright!” she shouts back, still dancing like a crazy person. And Ayala, you’ve noticed, has gone off with a man she met as soon as you three entered the bar, but you weren't worried about her, you knew she could handle herself. 

You carefully weave in and out of people as you try to make your way to the bar, but the place is crowded and some of them are moving around a bit wildly to the music. Just as you smile to yourself thinking you’re about to make it unscathed, someone behind you bumps your shoulder, making you jolt forward and knocking you right into someone else.

“Whoa!” The stranger in front of you exclaims. You watch as a few drops of his drink fly out of his glass, and he lifts his arm high up in front of him, trying to keep more of the alcohol from spilling.

“I’m so sorry!” you gasp, but you’re way too flustered to say more and you hurry off toward the bar before you get bumped into again, or worse.

Finally, you manage to make it and you take a seat on one of the stools, ordering yourself a glass of ice water. You’ve already consumed enough alcohol tonight to put an alcoholic to shame, that was for sure. 

After a few minutes, you start to relax. You’re taking very little sips of the water that the bartender gave you when a man takes a seat beside you.

“Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude, but you owe me a drink.” 

Confused, you turn to him, frowning a little. You realize suddenly this must be the man you bumped into but you hadn’t spilled his drink, he’d saved it. “Why do I owe you a drink?” 

“Because when I saw your beautiful face after you rushed off, I dropped mine,” he answers with such a charming smile that you were sure women all over would fall over their feet for him instantly. 

You scoff slightly, trying not to blush. “That has to be one of the cheesiest pick up lines I’ve ever heard.” 

The man chuckles lightly. “But it worked right,?”

“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” you answer before turning back to the dance floor and seeing Ayala has now rejoined Mia with her dancing.

"Well, can I buy you a drink then?” he asks, sounding a little more sincere now. “In reparation for having to listen to such a cheesy line?”

You finally turn back toward him, and notice he’s leaning a little closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable, and you study him for a moment, taking in everything about him, and you can’t help but be curious…is he…?. “I don't normally accept drinks from total strangers,” you finally answer, “but I think I could make an exception for you. I'll take a Coca Cola. I’ve already had enough alcohol for tonight and I don't want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow. I’m starting a new job.”

The man smiles, turning to the bar and ordering both himself and you drinks. Once they arrive you take very light sips of yours, happily relishing in the fizzy sweetness of the drink.

You spend awhile with him, chatting casually and sipping your drinks. You have to admit he’s extremely handsome and the conversation is good, he’s kind and thoughtful, asking you questions and actually listening.

“So what are you celebrating?'” he asks, smiling the most handsome smile you’ve maybe ever seen. 

“My 30th birthday, and starting my new job tomorrow,” you answer simply.

“Well, happy birthday and congrats on the new job! Maybe we could…turn this into a proper celebration, if you want? Come to my place with me, it will be quieter, we could talk some more…” he says sounding hopeful. 

You smile, before downing the rest of your drink and hopping off the bar stool and turning to him. "I'm sorry. I don't do one night stands with serial cheaters, and I wouldn't want anyone to think I only got this job because I slept with the boss. I will see you tomorrow at 9 o'clock, Mr Stevens." 

You turn away, making your way back onto the dance floor with your friends, while leaving Vincent Stevens by the bar absolutely flummoxed.

tbc…

Part 2

[diy-fire-water-pups]

WELCOME TO OUR BLOG!

This is a blog for you to interact with some of the Paw Patrol pups: The Firefighter and EMT pup, Marshall; The Recycle Do-All pup, Rocky; and last but not least, The Cool Water-Loving pup, Zuma.

Before you can send asks or start a RP, please check the rules under the cut first. Hope to see you around and have some fun!

Ps.: Askbox opens from Friday to Monday early morning (GMT -3). It's closed as soon as I wake up (Posts tagged as "No Queue is too big No pup is too small" are scheduled posts).

RULES FOR INTERACTING

1- Be respectful. There’s an actual person sitting in front of a computer or holding her cell phone here, spending time to play as her favorite pups, interact with people she doesn’t know and have fun; Time which she could be using for working and earning money to not worry about what to eat tomorrow, if her own dog and cat will have their food too and if the bills will be paid in time or late again. I’m here to have a good time. If someone starts being a bother, I’ll make use of the block button and delete asks or whatever’s sent my way. I’m not wasting time with assholes.

2- Same goes for the pups, actually - if I feel someone’s bothering them, I’ll do the same as above. Even if I’m not the one affected but I feel the pups would be. 

3- If you wish to RP, please send a DM to my other sideblog, self-indulgent-paw-patrol, so we can discuss about plots first. You don’t need to DM me if you just want to send asks or interact with the pups, though, that’s only for RPs.

4- EDIT! Thanks to some encouragement and the positive reception this blog has been receiving, I'm willing to try RPing crossovers. The thing is, PLEASE TALK TO ME FIRST! Sometimes I don't know your muse at all, so it would be good to get to know them a bit first, before we plot anything. The ideal is for you to have an "About" page for your muses so I can check them out!

5- I’m willing to RP ships, be it platonic or romance, but absolutely NO NSFW will be allowed here. From the possible ships with the pups in this blog, my OTP is Rocky x Zuma, followed by Marshall x Everest and Chase x Marshall. I’m open for shipping the pups with OCs, granted I get to know the OCs first, and the specific pup will need some time to know your OC too.

6- Feel free to reblog any posts you may find in this blog, including the pups' answers to asks they get. The only posts you shall NOT REBLOG (but you can like) are the posts tagged as #RP if you're not the one participating in it. That's basic ancient Tumblr etiquette!

7- M!A (Magic!Anons) are not allowed. One too many people have tried to force stuff that was way past my limitations, even sounding like they just wanted free art out of it. I don’t have time nor patience for that.

Rules may be subject to change in the future as I see fit. For now, that's about it!

Now I'll take the chance to promote some other askblogs in the fandom too just because I can XD Make sure to read their rules before interacting!

@jurassicsnowpups - an askblog for Everest, Rex and Tracker!

@pcwpatrol - an askblog for Chase!

@taking-to-the-skye - an askblog for Skye!

@stretch-n-fetch - an askblog for Liberty!

@paw-patrol-pack-leader - an askblog for Ryder!

@clumsycapn - an askblog for Cap'n Turbot!

@rubble-the-bulldog - an askblog for Rubble!

@wheelerpupfan - a blog for Wheeler from Rubble & Crew!

[half-dead-writer]

random thought i had is how funny it is to think I used to do purely sfw fics and kinda too embarrassed to do anything nsfw but as soon as I did the gates opened and now more often than not I come up with more nsfw scenarios than sfw ones

they give dopamine quicker than slowburn romance, I'm a sucker for those but IT TAKES SO LONG TO WRITE- meanwhile smut is like yep they did that and then boom, done

also I lack scenarios for meet-cutes to happen (and so they aren't boring)

the curse of being a writer

anyways ramble over

...or is it

nope, another thought

since writing smut entertains me (and other sinful people) and I also draw... why not draw smut, right?? but somehow this feels like crossing the line lmao

not like I could post it to Tumblr tho (I think??) I mean, I don't wanna clog the tag Matthew Patel with porn when other people are not looking for it here, writing is alr pushing it a bit

basically this whole ramble started bc I saw heli0za's nsfw art on AO3 and wondered whether people would like to see it from me too, who knows - one simp to another (you reading this post)

if you read up until this point you can comment here or send your opinion in the inbox if u care

ok, now I'm out

I'm waking up early tomorrow and I'm here spilling my thoughts to people on the internet, typical (time not to cringe tmrw when I'll be rereading this oops)

[jerzwriter]

Tickler Tuesday?

Is that a thing? If not, I'm making it a thing.

Who asked? No one.

Who cares? Maybe 2 people. 3 if you include me... but hell, I'm excited, so there is that.

I'm almost done with "that scene" from Wake the Dead... and I will seek psychiatric help as soon as it is completed. (Or I'll listen to Noah Kahan and Hozier for hours on end; it's a toss.)

But here's a snippet of the fic and of the AMAZING art that @rosefuckinggenius created for the scene so long ago that she probably doesn't remember it herself! It deserved to see the light of day long ago, but this has been painful to write, so procrastination happened.

But this will be up, hopefully, tomorrow, but definitely by the end of the week. I know there isn't much interest in this story, but I'm really proud of the work, and it's been such a journey getting to "know" the Sipes family more. The End of the Word Part 2 ... when time runs out...

Then it dawned on him: he knew the man that he was but would never know the one he was meant to be. He survived the end of the world; he survived the unthinkable. His body wasn't placed in an incinerator or one of the dozens of mass graves that littered the town he once called home. His body survived... but nothing more. His heart, mind, and soul were among the outbreak's casualties... they were ripped from him and never to be reclaimed. And tonight, all he could think of was, who was this flawed facsimile that remained?

Tagging my WTD list and a couple permas that may be interested: @kyra75 @cariantha @lilyoffandoms @missameliep @storyofmychoices @annoyingmillenialnewbie @trappedinfanfiction

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #124

I am in a lot of pain today. For whatever reason, the rib injury is really bugging me today; it's a little hard to breathe. I'm not sure exactly what's up or why, but I really hope it quits soon. Maybe I'll feel a little better when I wake up tomorrow. Or maybe not. I really don't know.

Oh well. I tried to get on with my ordinary activities today. M and I went to a place for lunch, and I got a sandwich that was pretty good! It was mostly made of onions and cheese, and you can't really go wrong with that combination! Here's how it looked:

Onions are one of my favorite foods! Or, well... alliums in general, I suppose; garlic and chives and scallions and shallots and stuff. I wonder if you have favorite foods, besides pasta. If you do, I wonder what they are. Wouldn't it be neat if I got to ask you someday, and then you could tell me the answer! That'd be pretty swanky. Impossible, I know. But still.

I know I said yesterday that I'd tell you about the ice cream flavors I got recently. I will tell you about one of them! I put it in my tea! Today, I made a tea that was matcha with bits of toasted rice:

As you can see, this one was delightfully green the whole time it was brewed! The jasmine green tea that I get starts out delightfully green, and then shifts to an equally delightful shade of yellow as it brews; I think it's pretty neat to watch the colors shift. But it's also pretty neat when the colors simply become more intense as the tea steeps.

Anyway, so one of the ice cream flavors I got was a honey flavored one! It's delicious by itself, but since I've got the whole "cold = intense pain" glitch going on, I tend to like putting ice cream in tea instead! Here's how that turned out:

...I'm not really sure why, but if you put ice cream in hot tea, it leaves a bubbly layer of ice cream foam that's super tasty! I wonder if you'd like something like that. I wonder about lots of things you might like...

...I didn't do much else today because my body hurts a lot. It still does, even though it's like 11pm. It's enough that I might have trouble sleeping tonight, actually. I guess we'll see.

J was out and about today. He went to go help his father with something, and then he went to do laser tag. While he was out, he took a few pictures you might like; I'll show them to you:

...Didn't he do a really nice job? I loved the way he captured these. He's really good at this.

...I am in a lot of pain today. It's actually kind of hard to think. Hard to write. Hard to exist right now. But that's okay. I will take some more ibuprofen and get ready for bed and sleep soon, and maybe it'll be better by tomorrow.

Hey, Sephiroth? Are you staying safe out there? Staying hydrated? Staying nourished? Sleeping regularly? Are you resting when you need to? If your body is sick or hurting, are you taking good care of yourself in order to make yourself well again? If your mind is hurting, are you reaching out to people who will help you? Are you taking care of your emotions lovingly? Is your self-talk kind? Are you doing what you can to heal from everything that has happened to you?

...I wish I could help you. But today, I am feeling very powerless for reasons other than the pain I'm in. A thing happened, and I'm left wondering if my voice really does have the capacity to make a difference to anyone, anywhere. Given the amount of pain I'm in almost all the time, and all the ways I don't fit in with the other people this place, sometimes I wonder if it's really worthwhile to stick around if ultimately my existence doesn't mean anything.

...Suppose I'll persist anyways. It's really all I know how to do. Besides, tea is nice. And so is the sky. And so are the flowers that are coming into bloom. And the silly bumblebees. And so are the people in my immediate circle who know me, understand me, and love me enough for my words to carry weight with them.

I'm gonna be okay. So please make sure you're gonna be okay too, alright?

I love you. Please stay safe. I'll write again tomorrow; maybe I'll feel well enough to write you a longer letter.

Your friend, Lumine

[officeobject]

Poll Drama: Hi, sorry for ignoring y'all on purpose, ANYWAYS,

We are back to polls, and I ended up thinking about Barbie Dream Besties, but NOW I actually wanna make it about, like, what's your favorite kind of doll? Antique/old dolls are not included - like, those "creepy" Victorian child dolls, because that was the dolls Colby Tybbles used to play with and feck him. I literally wanna punch something now, because I'm thinking about him, FECK HIM.

ANYWAYS, pros and cons!

Mini-dolls:

Hard to find stuff for

Cute small scale

Not very detailed

Not "embarrassing"

Not that easy to play with

Portable

Baby reborn dolls:

Look realistic, feel realistic, etc

Considered "creepy", "ugly", and other stuff because they look like babies

Easy to fecking RUIN

Great details and artistry

Expensive

Nice cute little coping mechanism or just general thing

Average dolls (like Barbie, Dream Ella, Steffi Love, etc):

Easy to find stuff for

Might look unoriginal or very copy-catty

Lots to choose from

Might come with social stigma - if not, then you're still competing in stores with kids or whatever

Looks like a person, what else is there to say?

Quality may vary a lot, LOL

Baby dolls:

Easy to find, even second-hand

Social stigma package

Made for play

Might be shit-quality or gimmicky

Often has mechanics and a focus on it being cute or realistic

Unoriginal, pretty basic, etc

Anthro dolls:

Creative, unique-looking, interesting, stands out

You will get called a furry as soon as you become even remotely "not a kid", which is fine, except people hate furries for some reason - also, your doll might look fugly because it might not even have been designed by a furry - and also, kids are furries too, if they like Pinkie Cooper dolls or something

Often shit-quality nonsense gimmick dolls for young kids, or look uncanny, or have no thought and logic put into them

Great for furries, easy to make personalities for, extra creative and stuff

Hard to find stuff for

You can maybe find your favorite animal, or one to associate with you, or just generally have a similar relationship with it, as with a plushie

Y'all know which one I'M going for, SOOOOOOO ...

Happy first of December, by the way! I got an orange dough ball that can glow in the dark (allegedly), but I can't see that. I love it, and have realized I prefer the SMALLER NeeDoh stressballs over the average-sized ones - I do still think MAYBE I'd like a BIG one though. I like it a lot, and maybe it will help me a lot, and I'm thinking of taking it tomorrow - I have the DENTIST tomorrow though, which is, like, 1 hour early, so I have to wake up a little bit earlier, and usually it doesn't take LONG at the dentist, so Lord knows how soon I'll actually be back. Anyways, I'm not the ONLY one having this calender (we also both got the Chupa Chups one from someone, which had a strawberry lollipop), and I hope we'll get different colors and stuff, soon, because he got the same. I'm still happy with it though, and the calender is beautiful (not the Chupa Chups one, as it was so poorly designed, and I think it has a teenager on it or something - like, dude, THIS ISN'T HALLOWEEN)!

Well, at least I think I can go back to my usual shit-posting about teens - like, I don't think my blog is accidentally attracting creeps or whatever happened, anymore, so yeah - and I don't feel like tagging everything.

[kayleighwildwrites]

Hi!! I was scrolling when I saw that you needed characters and I love creating alternate versions of my oc so here we go!!

Name: Iris

Pronouns: They/them

Looks: Short, thick wavy hair, just passing their chin, bublegum pink hair with brown roots, amber eyes, rosy skin. really short and lean/slim, almost bony. dunno if clothes are needed but they would have that weird girl aesthetic, with funky-coloured nails and stuff

Personality: quiet and spacey, not an extrovert by any means but has some confidence. uncaring about what people think of them but considerate and empathic. very socially unaware lol

And you can 100% tag me!! I havent read your fic yet but I'll make sure to as soon as I wake up tomorrow :D

Thanks for the help and I hope you like the fic! ❤

[animemangasoul]

Who Are You?

Summery: A Wizard takes away Tim’s memories of his least important person. Unfortunately for Damian, that’s him.

He doesn’t remember him. Doesn’t remember the little kid with the pinched face and uncertain eyes. He looks at him and he feels... something, but it’s not enough so he doesn’t pursue it. Just gives the little guy a wide smile and asks him his name. He must be important, he thinks. If he lives with Bruce.

“Damian.” The words are spoken softly, hesitantly, but they are also firm, strong. Tim feels like if he had known him, he would have admired him for that.

Instead he smiles even wider and reaches out a hand. “Tim,” he says in return and something flashes in the kid’s eyes; the sharp gaze darting between his outstretched hand to his face and then back to his hand again. Tim frowns. Maybe they hadn’t gotten along back--

But the kid doesn’t give him a chance to retract his offer, darting forward almost in desperation as he lungs forward to sandwich Tim’s fingers between his own two hands. “Pleasure to meet you again Timothy,” he blurts out; cheeks turning beat red as he does. But Tim can only smile, because the sincerity behind the halting words are very evident.

He wonders if they’d gotten along well.

He wonders if they did, why had he forgotten him.

The least important person the wizard had said..... So why Damian?

The rest of them, his family were firmly lodged in his brain. He could remember their every laugh, their every hug, tears, smiles, love. Good, bad, ugly. He remembered it all. Bruce with his confidence and safety, Cass with her warm hug and kisses. Dick with his laughter and comfort. Jason with his honesty and wild personality. Duke with his brilliance and gentleness. Alfred with his Alfredness.  

Remembering them wasn’t hard because the memories of them have never left him. So why Damian? Why him?

------------------

He wonders about it for the rest of the week. Especially when he hears the kid’s last name.

The little kid who skitters around the corners. The kid who doesn’t quite know how to laugh but his eyes would still manage to give him away every single time he found something funny.  

The little Robin who must have inherited the mantle after him and carried it with dignity and respect that must have made Tim’s heart bloom with pride.

Damian Wayne.

His little brother.

His only little brother.

And yet..... He didn’t remember him.

Least important.

Why?

---------------

Dick finds him one morning standing in front of the family portrait. The hall is empty except for the two of them, and when Dick comes to a stop next to him, neither speaks for a long while.

Tim is busy examining the expressions on everyone’s faces. And Dick, well, Tim wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but he leaves him to it. Dick would talk when he felt like it and not a second earlier.

“If you can’t remember him, how do you remember Duke?”

The words are no louder than a whisper and Tim can feel the unease coming off of his older brother in waves, but he elects not to comment on it. Instead he shrugs and focuses his gaze on the little face of the forgotten kid standing regally next to Bruce.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know!”

Tim scoffs. “A wizard messed with my head Dick.”

His brother winces and Tim finds himself smiling at that. Damian and Dick were much alike. It was cute.  

“Did we get along?”

“What?”

Sighing, Tim leans forward to press a light finger against Damian’s painted face. “Did we get along? Me and Damian?” Scrutinizing the stern gaze and the almost hunched shoulders of the kid, Tim wonders what he must have been afraid of in this frozen moment. “I’ve always wanted a little brother you know.”

Dick remains quiet for an inordinate amount of time.  

His silence tells a full story, so when Dick finally musters up a casual. “Yes, but you were both just kids so you disagreed sometimes.” He hums in agreement and lets its slide.

Dick was lying to him but Tim did not elect to hold it against him.  

Pretty little lies could make even the best of men tempted in telling them and whatever dynamic he and Damian currently held most be infinitely better for Dick than their previous shared history.

Still, ‘strike one Dick,’ he thinks as he turns around to make his way down to the kitchen, he was hungry after all. ‘Lying doesn’t suit you big brother.’

“Wait.”

Foot frozen midair, Tim drags his eyes up from the stairs and back to the silent figure by the portrait. Dick looks so very still.

“Yeah?”

One hand coming up to run through his hair, his older brother gives him a sheepish smile; eyes gleaming suspiciously but smile as sincere as ever.

“You got along better at the end. Damian he.... you guys weren’t.... you didn’t like each other in the beginning,” Dick pauses and there is pain there, in those words. Bitter pain. Protective, angry.  

Something most have been stolen from him too Tim supposes. And it hurts more because Dick remembers. Whatever built relationship he and Damian had most have meant more to Dick than he was letting on.

Interesting.

“Thank you for telling me.” He leaves at that. Not without a second glance or thought.

Dick doesn’t follow him. Tim thinks that’s for the best.

----------------

“You hated him?”

Tim blinks in surprise. “Really?”

Kon nods. Eyes on the bright screen and tongue sticking out in concentration. “Yup.”

“Why?”

Kon curses loudly; leaning back and dragging the controller with him to avoid the upcoming wall. “I don’t know man,” he grits out. “You never got along and Dick used to pit you guys against each other or something. Choosing sides and shit.”

“Why?”

Shrugging, his best friend elects not to answer the question. “Beats me.”

Frowning in confusion, Tim nods slowly. “That’s super weird right? I mean, Dick wouldn’t do something like that. That’s not who he is. Or at least who I remember him to be.”

Kon shrugs again. “Never liked the guy so don’t ask me dude.”

Tim thinks about it for a second but then he too picks up his controller and Kon restarts the game. It really didn’t matter in the end, did it?

So what if he’d hated Damian in the beginning for some weird reason. The kid seemed pleasant enough last time he saw him so maybe he’d changed. Jason had managed it after all and well, Tim had frequently encountered and even befriended less than decent people before. So a little kid like Damian couldn’t be quite that bad right?

Maybe he needed to have a sit down and actually talk to him.

Talking to everyone else about how he was supposed to feel about Damian wasn’t really working after all. They most have had some form of relationship if the kid looked hurt when he didn’t remember him. It couldn’t have been all antagonistic, their relationship. And it couldn’t have been all that great either.

Maybe they’d reached a sort of an in between.  

----------------

Finding the time to talk to Damian proves to be difficult. Not only is work literally drowning him in stress and gives him less free time than a man working three jobs but turns out Damian was avoiding him.

It becomes all too obvious when he turns a corner one day and is met with the startled gaze of the kid who then; unable to avoid him any other way, actually turns around abruptly and sprints away.  

Tim is left standing there with an outreached hand and a mouth open for a yell that never leaves his lips.

After that, it becomes more and more difficult to pin the kid down. No matter what he does; waking up early, coming home an hour before his time, choosing to patrol with batman instead of alone, he can’t seem to get the kid to talk to him.

Somehow, that hurts.

Not in the normal sense of faint disappointment. Not in the way of feeling sad because a stranger elected to be rude to you, no. It was this gut punching pain that just wouldn’t go away.  

He didn’t even know him, but it hurt. It really really hurt and Tim didn’t like that one bit.  

Damian Wayne.

He needs to talk to him. Nothing was going to fix this otherwise. Even if he doesn’t remember him, he.....

“He’s hiding at my apartment ya know. That’s why you can’t find him.”

Tim practically jumps out of his skin. “What the hell Jay!”

His older brother grins. A savage sort of smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he barely seems to refrain from outright laughing at him.  

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Jason snorts. “And if you wanna catch the little brat you better go now.” And with that he disappears behind the roofline, leaving Tim to glare after him.  

“Jerk.”

--------------------------

“Found you!”

This time it’s Damian’s turn to jump out of his skin and well, Tim would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t see why Jason loved doing it so much.

“What.... why are you here Drake?”

Landing soundlessly on the floor, Tim shuts the window behind him before shuffling over to where Damian is sitting, careful not to trigger another run. “I just want to talk.”

The little guy glares at him. A proper glare with death threats and all. Tim is mildly amused. “Won’t you give me five minutes? Please?”

Damian flinches. “I do not wish to speak with you Drake.” He sounds young and scared and..... Tim doesn’t quite understand how he could have ever hated this kid.

“I don’t remember you,” he says slowly, the words leaving his mouth easily enough, but somewhere deep down, at the very bottom of his soul he finds himself retching at the casualness with which he says them.

It doesn’t help that the kid can’t quite hide the brief flair of hurt that dances through his eyes.

Fuck.

“I already know that Drake,” he snaps, but Tim steps forward, waving his arms frantically. “I didn’t mean it like that ki—Damian!” Swallowing thickly, he tries to take a deep breath. “Look, I just..... I don’t remember you that’s true. But,” he carries on quickly preventing Damian from cutting him off. “I would like to remember you again and just...” here he gives a helpless shrug. “Wanna help me find the wizard who did this and make him change me back?”

Clearly that’s not what Damian had been expecting him to say, for his supposed little brother is standing on the other side of Jason’s living room, silently gaping at him.

Tim bites down on his tongue to stop himself from saying anything stupid that’ll ruin things. And then--

“Why?” Damian’s voice is angry and suspicious, but it’s also pained and confused and.... Tim just wants to hug him. No kid should ever look that forlorn, ever.

“I want my memories back and I want to remember you,” he answers instead, giving the kid his most winning smile.

“Why?”

Sighing, Tim drops the smile and gives the kid an almost helpless look, because..... what do you say to that? How can he possible explain the disparity between what he’s feeling and what he knows. That his mind might not recall the little kid in front of him, who looks so much like Bruce, but his heart does.  

How can he just....

“I think you’re worth remembering,” he settles for in the end. “You might not have been part of my most important memories, but you were still important to me and that’s why the spell worked.” This time when he tries to smile, it comes out rather sad, a bit empty, slightly heartbroken. “We were getting there, weren’t we? Becoming brothers?”

Damian looks away and that tells him everything.

“Let me remember you.” Tim says, an almost plea breaking through his faked bravado.

This time when Damian looks back at him, it’s not fear or hurt or pain he sees, but a quiet sense of determination. It’s shaky and still uncertain, but it eases something within Tim. “So what do you say?” He asks again just to make sure.

The kid nods. “Very well Drake. You have yourself a deal.”

Tim grins and Damian, well Damian smiles just the tiniest bit and for the first time in days, Tim feels as if something broken in his heart has finally been put back together again.

It’ll work out in the end. Tim wouldn’t let it end any other way.

The End

@punjabj-ninja @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @river9noble

Anyone else who wants to be tagged please let me know. Or untagged either way :)

[betwecouldmakesome]

.

[angstyx]

ayup

i was watching the clip of tommy calling wilbur wilby so i had an idea

can I request wilbur x platonic!teen!reader in which reader accidentally calls wilbur wilby on stream?

Wilby

CC!Wilbur Soot x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 240+ words

Summary: You accidentally call Wilbur the wrong name and it causes chaos

TW: cursing, shouting

Requested?: [Yes] [No]

Note: um well im back 💀 after like idk months of not posting here's a new piece of writing

lol tell me if my writing got worse or not

Masterlist // Rules for Requesting

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

"Hey, Wilby? Can you-" You immediately realize your mistake and unfortunately WIlbur heard it before you could correct yourself. "Did you just call me Wilby?" You freeze as you quickly laugh to cover your slip up. "What no- I don't know what you're talking about, WIlbur-" "You just called me wilby I heard it. Chat you heard it as well right?"

You groan in despair as you see chat agreeing with him, seeing yes's flood the chat. A donation soon pops up and you can't help but laugh when you read it.

❝[username] donated $10: someone clip that❞

❝[username] donated 500 bits: yesss❞

"NO CHAT DON'T PLEASE MY STREAMING CAREER WILL BE RUINED."

❝[username] donated $5: y/n i'm praying that you don't wake up tomorrow with people sending you clips of you saying wilby❞

"You're jinxing it!" You say in disbelief, making Wilbur laugh. "Wilbur, I didn't call you that at all, I swear." "You're lying, I literally heard it, and chat heard it too. I bet there are multiple clips of it right now."

That probably was true but you decided not to think about that. "Wow thanks for telling me that. Speaking of clips, I bet I'm going to see it all over my twitter home page the second i open the app."

"OH SO YOU DO ADMIT THAT YOU DID SAY IT." "Wilbur literally shup the fuck up right now or I'll block you on all my socials."

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

taglist: @toodeepintofandoms @luluwinchester @thenotsohottopic @0-0littlem0-0 @bi-narystars @707xn @sakurapartridge @ryxjxnnx @boiciph3r @nightwalkercrescent @missusstark @multifandomgirl-us @sophia902103 @sunniewrites @marrymetheonott @voidgonemissing @ttakinou @chaoticotaku @joyfullymulti @aphroditesgarden @sxltedcxramel @flxffyclvuds @blushingduckling @blueberrystigma @youngstarfishdinosaur @beepbopbee @sirsleeps @dazedgxth @wrenqueenisboss @saturnhas82moons @itsonlydana @bluvclouds @comonlokbut2 @dukina @arcanine-doves @lacunaanonymoused @pixviepiee @buckyswhxre @jadecameron69420 @isaac-foster-my-beloved @sarahwasfound @auralol

Send in a ask or dm me to be added! | bolded means you either changed your url or your settings makes it so I cant tag you

[allbark-no-bite]

homeward.

bradley bradshaw x reader (wc: 3.5k)

summary: when a random phone call from Rooster turns your world upside down, you begin to worry what life is going to be like once Rooster is home after his discharge

warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, implied smut so I would say 18+

author’s note: i genuinely have no clue when i started this bc it was so long ago. anyhow, I hope you all enjoy!

————————————————————————

I will never not race to the phone when it rings at an ungodly hour of the night. My heart will never cease skipping happily when Rooster's deep, rumbling voice transfers over the crappy naval base service line as soon as it connects. He will never fail to ask me how I'm doing, even though I should be the one asking because he's thousands of miles away fighting in god knows where. Today's call is no different, but it is in so many ways.

Rooster doesn't speak immediately like he usually does, blurting out 'hey baby' before I can blink. There are a few uneven breaths on the line and I have to provide a meek 'hello?' before Rooster even speaks. I dismiss it though. He must be tired.

“Hey, [Y/n]." Not baby. Not darling. Not Mrs. Bradshaw. [Y/n]. But it's fine. He's just tired.

“Hi, baby... how are you?" I prompt after what seems like an eternity.

Rooster answers too quickly this time to be 'just tired'.

“Good. Good. Fine."

My mouth runs dry. Something's off.

“Babe, are you sur-"

“I need you to meet Maverick at the airport tomorrow."

Alarm passes though me and my heart thumps dangerously fast. Maverick is supposed to be stationed with Rooster for the next few months, so why would Maverick be on the next flight to California? Why him and not Rooster?

“What? Is everything okay? Are you okay?" I question in slight alarm.

“Nothing's wrong. Everything is fine," Rooster quietly reassures me from his side of the line. And then he pauses again for a moment.

But are you fine? I want to scream, but I know that freaking out will only delay Rooster's explanation.

I have learned that he needs more space than he used to. I have to be patient nowadays, like waiting for a call that might not come until two weeks later, or for him to come around after a particularly bad nightmare. Those seem to happen so frequently now that I'll wake up moments before Rooster does, ready to pull him back to reality and hold him until he stops shaking.

“Rooster?"

I can hear the soft tinkling of metal clinking together, and in my gut, I know that something is definitely wrong. Rooster plays with his dog tags when he's anxious. I can picture him dressed in his uniform, hunched over a bunk with the phone pressed to his ear, his free hand fiddling with the identification tags and the gold ring on his finger scraping against the metal.

“So when do you think you're—"

“My plane went down. They're sending me home," he interrupts me, saying it so quickly that he must have thrown away the whole rehearsed speech he undoubtedly had planned in a mere second's panic.

I panic. Like drop the glass I'm holding and grip the phone with both hands kind of panic.

“Bradley! Christ, are you kidding me?! Are you okay?! What happened?!" A million panic-filled questions erupt from my mouth all at once as I sand in the kitchen, glass shattered at my feet, frozen.

“I'm fine, I swear, but I've gotta go, babe." He can hear him swallow thickly across the line. "I love you—"

“Bradley wait—"

“Bye," and then the line clicks off, and we're disconnected. The click sounds so final, as if he hasn't simply just hung up the phone, but ceased to exist entirely.

——————

Heavy breathing bounces off the walls in our shared flat. Deep growls and moans slips under the cracks of the closed door and echo throughout the room. To the neighbors a floor up, it sounds like horny teenagers fucking like animals until the sun comes up. And there may be just a little bit of truth to that, but tonight it's a bit more than just fucking. It's two people making love to each other for quite possibly the last time in a long time. Because you see, he's going to war.

“Fuck," Rooster whispers against my shoulder, biting down hard. His perfect pearly teeth scrape against my skin as he grinds his hips into me. My finger tips hold on to the hair at the nape of his neck, caressing his sandy brown hair, bleached from one too many days at the beach. Our bodies slide together like two pieces of a puzzle that click into place so perfectly. Sweat drips off the bridge of Rooster's nose and slides between the dimples of his shoulder blades. The pair of dog tags that he never takes off hangs from a chain around his neck.

"I-I think you're a bit rusty," I breathe out, just to tease him, because god, I doesn't think he's ever been this into it. Rooster was, of course, incredible in the bedroom, but tonight was different. He seemed so desperate to prove something, pressing me against the wall and kissing me hard as soon as we had returned from my parents house, his hands freely roaming places that would have made me blush anywhere other than in our own home.

Just to spite me, Rooster thrusts his hips extra hard into me, sending me gasping and clawing at his back.

"You dog," I laugh out breathily out once I've recovered, my breath tickling the shell of his ear. Just below it, on the pulse point of his neck, resides a purpling bruise.

To prove my point, Rooster bares his teeth with a grin, humor glimmering in his eyes as he releases a mockingly feral snarl at me. "You married it," he says smugly. My head falls back into the pillow with a laugh. Always such a goon.

Rooster slows his thrusts. From the tension in his muscles, I can tell he's doing his best not to finish then and there. I take my time to admire him, my heart swelling at the way his dark lashes rest against his cheeks tiredly and the blissful haze of his green eyes.

I find my release, and Rooster comes soon after, teeth bared against my flushed olive skin. We fall apart, and he rolls to the side to avoid crushing me as his weary muscles go lax. But it's not long until I feel him move again, the matters creaking beneath us. His finger traces the love bites spattering my skin, ghosting my neck and shoulders and collarbone.

This is the last night we have together, and I can tell he's reluctant to let go of me. I love this. Laying here with Rooster, sweaty and exhausted, but completely blissful. The silver moonlight outlines his frame, picking up every precious dip and curve from his shoulders to his thick thighs. If I could take this moment and freeze it to keep with me while he's millions of miles away, I would.

“Roo?"

He looks back up to my face, his eyes shamelessly having been wandering down the curve of my hips.

“Yeah?" He smiles up at me, but the grin quickly falls from his face when he realizes that it's not the moonlight making my eyes glisten. "No, babe, don't cry," he whispers, sitting up to hover over me and wipe the tears falling down my cheeks. "Please don't cry, baby."

Hot tears trail down and streak my flushed cheeks, leaving an terrible trembling aching in my chest where my heart should be filled with contentment after making love with my husband.

"Promise you'll come back home to me? Safely," I add, just incase someone in the clouds has other ideas in terms of back home.

The nagging thought has been running through my head for the past month, but I've dismissed it time and time again. Until now. Now that the thought can't be ignored. What if this is the time that he doesn't come back home. What if this is the time that I get two soldiers instead of one at my door; this time carrying a box of belongings and a flag, pressed and folded into a neat triangle, with nothing to offer but condolences.

"I'm going to come back home. Alive," Rooster says firmly, as if reading my thoughts. "You hear me?" He asks me again, his voice not wavering in the slightest.

"Yeah, I hear you, Roo."

——————

A week after I gets Rooster's call, a week after seven days of terrible uncertainty, the U.S. Navy contacts me. They arrange for me to pick up Rooster under what they called a 'indeterminate discharge'. When I ask for details, the information becomes classified. So now I'm sitting in one of his stupid Hawaiian shirts at gate F3 of the U.S. airport, waiting to meet with Maverick, who is supposedly accompanying Rooster on the flight home.

My heart beats at an unnatural pace as I wait for the plane to come around. I shouldn't be this nervous. He told me he was fine, but the phone call this morning left me with more questions than answers, even more worried than ever. He's coming home and that's all that matters, I keep thinking. Whatever it is, we can handle it.

"[Y/n]? I'd recognize that shirt anywhere."

A man dressed in a khaki colored Navy uniform and dark shades approaches me, smiling warmly as we make eye contact. After all these months, Maverick was a sight for sore eyes. I jump up out of my seat to embrace him. His arms wrap around me firmly, hugging me in a way that only Maverick could, holding on to me the way I've needed to be held for months.

“Where is he, Mav?" I rush out, too worried about Rooster to excuse my lack of a formal greeting. The senior pilot sighs, releasing me from his arms.

“He wouldn't get on the plane when they did priority boarding, so he'll be the last to get off," Maverick says, shaking his head. "So I figured I'd come out and prepare you since he probably didn't tell you anything."

I nod, confirming his assumption, and take a deep breath in to steady myself.

Maverick gestures for me to sit down in one of the airport chairs, and he follows suit after me. "It's not good," he begins. "His plane was caught in the jet wash during a training exercise and one of his engines blew. I kept telling him to eject but he wanted to save the plane. By the time he gave up, he had waited too late. Thankfully he went down in the water—on land it would have killed him—but he's still pretty tore up."

I sit there, listening with my palm over my mouth as Maverick goes over some other details of what caused the crash to happen and a bunch of other shit that Bradley would probably be able to explain to me. But of course, he's unavailable at the moment.

"Damn you, Bradshaw. You always have to be the hero," I whisper quietly. Wringing my hands together, I stand up, looking through the crowd of people disembarking from the plane. When I don't see him, I begin to wonder if I'll even recognize him.

Maverick smiles halfheartedly, his eyes crinkling empathetically behind his dark sunglasses. "I know I’m supposed to tell you that it gets easier, and it might, but first it’s going to be hard. Just give him a few days to adjust to civilian life again."

I nod. Coming home after months of deployment was always a transition for Rooster. It always took him a while to realize that he didn't have to wake up at 4 am or fix the bed perfectly every morning. We could never play news radio stations because they sounded too much like radio intercepts.

Many nights we laid in bed and never went to sleep because his internal clock was so off that his body simply couldn't shut down. It wouldn't be until days later that he finally crashed, sleeping for days afterwards. I knew hard. I could deal with hard.

As Maverick predicts, Rooster is the last to get off the plane. Dressed in his typical tan uniform, he looks beyond tired, exhausted really. His shoulders droop and his feet move impossibly slow. He keeps one arm wrapped around his side, as each breath looks painful. Slowly yellowing, purple bruising lines the underside of his jaw and most of the right side of his face. A gash on his cheek bone is held together by an adhesive bandage.

Something deep within my chest trembles with hurt, and I want nothing more than to take him into my arms and never let go, never let anything hurt him again. Maverick's hand catches my elbow before I can run up to him. "Easy," he murmurs. "Take a breath."

I suck in a deep breath per his directions, and the ache subsides a little; enough for me to compose myself before Rooster reaches us.

If I thought he looked bad earlier, it's even worse up close. The right side of his jaw is swollen and puffy, and I can see the marks against his face from where he probably smashed it against the inside of the cockpit. Two of the fingers on the hand that is clutching his side are purple and swollen as well, likely broken. But I put on a brave face and smile anyhow, refusing to let him see the fear that I'm harboring inside.

"Hey, Roo," I breath out quietly, as though if I spoke any louder, I'd somehow hurt him.

"I ever tell you, you look good in my shirt?"

A pained, but very Rooster-like smile appears on his face, and I break. I fly at him, my sneakers squeaking against the airport floor, and latch my arms around his neck. I can tell that maybe that wasn't the best idea, because he grunts, letting out a puff of air as he releases his side to catch me, wrapping the better arm around my waist. But he doesn't let go, his fingers digging into my side so that I don't fall.

"You scared the shit out of me," I whisper, my voice taunt in his ear.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

From over his shoulder, I can see Maverick smiling fondly at the pair of us. He nods, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other coming up in a soft wave as he dismisses himself, turning to leave to give us the moment we've waited so long for.

Thank you, I mouth to him.

Leaving the airport proves to be slightly difficult. I have to help Bradley into the passenger side of the car, allowing him to lean against my side as he gets his footing. And may I say, that man is heavy. His time on the base had leaned him out for sure, but what was left was 170 lbs of pure muscle.

The car ride home is so quiet that I find myself waiting for Bradley to start singing to the radio like he always does, and I'd laugh and poke fun at him about how off tune he is, when in reality, just like his dad, he truly does have a beautiful voice. But he doesn't, and I have to turn the radio off before my eyes start to tear up, and I wreck the both of us into a ditch.

He's been quite ever since we left the airport, just staring out listlessly at everything that we pass by. Quietly, Bradley offers me his hand as I drive. I grab it and he squeezes it reassuringly from across the console. I'm going to be okay, is what he means to say but doesn't.

I need him to say we’re going to be okay.

Because I don’t think I can do it. I can’t stand the silence, the uncertainty, the conversations we’re not having. The thought of becoming one of those military spouses who is simply a caregiver flashes through my mind. It’s a horrible and selfish thought. But I don’t think I could do it if I had to.

I need him to say we’re going to be okay.

When we pull up into the drive way of our apartment stationed on the base, it's the same slow process to get Bradley out of the car as it was to get him in. I'm out of breath by the time we get to the front door. Bradley smiles at me weakly as I fumble for the key, and I look away, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I jiggle the lock around and manage to crack the door open with one hand, the other one preoccupied with his rucksack.

In a flash, a blur of fur streaks past our legs, tearing through the nearly nonexistent crack in the door. Goose. I sigh. Why? Why do I own a cat again? The menace makes a mad dash into the house and disappears into a bedroom like it is no one's business. Bradley glances over at me, the smirk on his face that says it all.

Two years ago, after a particularly long deployment made the silence in our little flat unbearable, I made the impulsive decision to visit a shelter downtown. "I didn't mean to actually adopt anything," I had sworn to Bradley when he came home to find what looked like an overgrown cotton ball lounging on our mattress. He was even more unimpressed upon discovering what I had named it.

"Goose? You named the cat Goose?" He had repeated lamely, arms crossed in front of his chest as he stood in the middle of our bedroom.

In my defense, I didn't know what I was getting into when I adopted the creature. At the shelter, he was no bigger than both my palms combined and gentle as could be. At home, he was an absolute terror. The cat ate electrical wires, puked just about everywhere, and would not hesitate to take a chunk out of your leg should you not scan your surroundings before passing by the couch. It was safe to say that Bradley and I lived in constant fear. All of these reasons were why he was banned to the outdoors the majority of the time.

Needing a moment to myself, "I'll get him," I sigh, and dump Bradley's bag just inside the door, following the cat in.

Exasperatedly, I make my way to the bedroom that I last saw Goose scramble into last. My bare feet brush against the charcoal grey carpet that adorns our bedroom, and I freeze once I pass through the doorway. My stomach drops.

The words, "Get. Out." barely seethe through my teeth before I'm grabbing hold of the creamy colored feline by his armpits and locking him out of the room. I don't even realize my hands are trembling until I pick up the now broken picture frame and cradle it to my chest. A few other items are scattered around the dresser, but none as worthy of my attention at the moment.

The glass is cracked across the frame and a sharp piece grazes my finger when I gently caress the photo. Through my frustration, I smile faintly. I remember taking this picture. There's a date on the back, July 24th.

Bradley is dressed so smartly in a black tux, his sandy brown curls tamed to perfection on top of his head, honey green eyes shining. He looks so boyish with that beaming grin on his face and his half grown mustache. He hadn't fully committed to it yet back then.

I'm in the dress, the one I absolutely had to have. Long sleeves of sheer white lace adorn my arms, the front dipping down into a low v, and layers upon layers to make up the train. It was everything I had wanted and more. I don't think Bradley took his eyes off me the entire ceremony.

In the photo, his arms are wrapped around my waist, cheek is pressed to mine, his barley there mustache brushing my skin, that much is evident from the look of laughter that is about to erupt based on the expression on my face.

Married straight out of high school, we were so in love.

Immediately, I wonder to myself how selfish I could possibly be, regretting all the awful thoughts from earlier. It was Bradley and I against the world. We had to be okay.

Wiping away the wetness from my eyes, the escaped cat forgotten, I sniff and stand up from where I was crouched in our bedroom. I find Rooster slouched at the kitchen table, his gaze seemingly fixed on nothing in particular, lost in thought. The chair drags against the floor as I pull it out to sit in front of him. Slowly, he shifts his gaze to mine, and we sit there, staring at each other.

You can put your strength down. You don’t need to say anything.

“We’re—“ his voice cracks, breaking into the silence just as I speak to stop him.

“I know,” I say. “We’re going to be okay.”

[sweet-seishu]

always yours

two

《prev | masterlist | next》

You've never sprinted so fast, you saw as the three boys did the same, making their way over to you.

You dropped your carry on, jumping into Baji's arms as he caught you, clinging to him for dear life as he hugged you tightly.

Your face was buried into his neck, just like his was with yours.

"About time." He mumbled, making you chuckle.

"Stop hogging her Baji." You heard Mitsuya say. You let your legs down, Baji letting go of you, kissing your forehead before you went into Mitsuya's waiting arms.

"Hey don't cry." He said softly.

"I didn't even realize I was." You told him. "It's just so good to be home Kashi."

He hugged you tighter, kissing your forehead again before letting you go to Chifuyu. He wiped the tears from your cheek before pulling you to him.

You cried harder, not even realizing how much you actually missed home, missed them.

You felt Mitsuya and Baji throw their arms around the two of you, all of you hugging in the airport, not caring about the people watching.

"We're so happy your home love." Mitsuya told you.

"I'm happy to." You sniffled, clinging to Chifuyu's shirt.

"Wanna go home?" Chifuyu asked. "I'll grab your luggage."

"Please? I'm so tired."

Chifuyu let go, grabbing your luggage for you while you held Baji and Mitsuya's hands.

The ride home was nice, you telling them about your time abroad, and them telling you about everything that went on with them and your group of friends.

You were happy to hear everyone was doing well. Sure you kept up with them on social media and FaceTime, but it was better to hear in person.

When you pulled up to Mitsuya's apartment you couldn't stop the fatigue from taking over. Just knowing there was a bed there made you tired.

"Want me to carry you up?" Baji asked. "You look really tired."

"Could you Kei?"

He smiled, helping you out of the car before carrying you bridal style, while Chifuyu got your bags from the trunk.

Mitsuya unlocked his door and you were immediately met with the warmth of his apartment. You felt so at home you wanted to cry again, so you buried your face in Baji's neck, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks.

"It's okay my girl, you're home now, and you can go to sleep." Baji reassured you while carrying you to the couch, holding you in his arms as you wept.

Mitsuya and Chifuyu placed your bags in your room, coming back out to see you trying not to pass out in Baji's arms.

"Alright, I think Baji and I are gonna head out." Chifuyu said. "We'll see you tomorrow okay? Just let us know when you wake up."

You nodded, standing up slowly to hug Chifuyu. You kissed him on the cheek lightly, thanking him before doing the same with Baji.

Mitsuya said his goodbyes, watching as the two walked out of the apartment.

"Alright, let's get you to bed." Mitsuya smiled, grabbing your hand.

"Can I sleep with you tonight Kashi?"

"Of course." He told you, leading you to his room. You immediately crashed on the bed, mitsuya chuckled as he laid beside you, pulling you into him as you let your eyes shut.

"Kashi?"

"Hmm?"

"How's Hanma been?"

"He's been good." Mitsuya told him. "You'll see him soon."

You only nodded, letting sleep take over.

tags: @rome-alone @hanmascult @blvebcrry

[bonny-kookoo]

Taehyung: care for me 1

In which Kim Taehyung, member of South Koreas biggest boy group, uses his influence and wealth for something other than clothes and accessories for once.

Tags/warnings: Cat hybrid!Reader x Idol!Taehyung, pet!Reader, it'll make sense trust me, fluff, angst, mentions of neglect, shy!Reader, mentions of slight PTSD, Taehyung is so sweet with her I can't :(, I know this sounds generic as fuck but give it a chance lol

---

He hates putting a collar on you.

While he knows you don't mind, that you're used to it, he just thinks it's quite demeaning. If anyone was to ask him, he'd love to even leave the leash out completely- but there was only so much he could really bend the rules. While you do wear a more decorative collar with your identification mark dangling off of it in the front, you're actually wearing a harness- delicate leather less restrictive as it would be if he was to hook the leash onto your collar. He wants to let you walk free like everyone else- but he has to bow down to the laws of his country, holding the leash loosely in his hand as they all walk towards the cars parked- ready to take them to the next hotel.

There's people ignoring you completely, others eagerly trying to get a glimpse of you. He's careful to bow down here and there when it's needed, glad that Jungkook behind him makes sure no one can reach you- your tail curled around your leg after an incident a few weeks back when a fan had pulled on it quite harshly. He still remembers the panic in your face as you'd held onto him, and he's still so upset over it. Because even then, even with a reason to, you didn't lash out.

You never did.

It didn't matter if someone bothered you, tugged your tail or reached for you, hurting you in the process- you always did the same thing: silently looking up at Taehyung for help. And God knows he wants to protect you from any harm in the world, barely able to, but nevertheless trying hard.

In the eyes of the public, it portrays him as oh so gentlemanly, chivalrous and generous that he's keeping you around- when in reality, it bothers him that it's not seen as normal. Whenever an interviewer asks, he always made sure to talk about you like a person- because that's what you were.

Now of course, he could never openly admit to the public that he was actually harboring an emotional attraction to you, but he luckily doesn't have to worry about that. Within the Fandom, most are convinced that any form of affection caught on camera is just "him being him". It makes him glad, but also a bit upset, knowing he's secretly lying by not correcting them. "You good?" Yoongi asks as he notices Taehyung spacing out after sitting down in the car. You're also looking at him, a bit sleepily so, since you'd slept during the flight already, and barely woke up to make the way to the car. So he simply smiles and nods, running his hand over your head, making you close your eyes and lean into his side. "She's gonna be out like a light as soon as we're there." Yoongi says, smiling at your almost asleep form next to Taehyung.

"I'm beat too, not gonna lie." Taehyung says, watching your tail move around a bit. "Glad though that it went smooth this time." He says, and Yoongi nods, before unbuckling his seatbelt. Taehyung helps you out the car, deciding to carry you however, waving the guys goodnight before reaching his hotel room.

He's simply laying you down for now, washing up, before he wakes you. "Come on kitten, I promise I'll let you sleep in a minute." He tells you, chuckling a bit as you sleepily sit up, raising your arms to make it easier for him to undo your harness and get you out of your shirt.

Once you're dressed in your sleeping garments, consisting of some cotton shorts and a shirt of his, you simply flop down to the side, making him smile at you before he joins you on the bed. He makes a mental note to remind you of your proper skincare tomorrow, unable to force you to stay awake any longer for now. He simply pulls you closer, listening to your purring until it slowly becomes quiet- a sign that you've finally fallen asleep.

And so he closes his eyes as well, falling asleep until his alarm wakes him up the next morning.