#also I did not realize I radiated kindness but I am so glad I do!!! my ideal vibe is warm and huggable

[iris-sistibly]

I look like shit right now, but hear me out: Episode 12 drove me NUTS!!!

📍For a moment, Hong Hae-in gave me a heart attack. I really thought that she wanted to spare Hyun-woo the heartache of her not being able to recognize him anymore and just went with Eun-seong. My brain cells weren't brain cell-ing, of course she had other reasons...duh. But it is really terrifying that she has moments when she can't recognize what's real and what isn't. I do however love the part when she knew that she was with the real Hyun-woo. In any scene or in any situation they've been, Hyun-woo radiates that kind of warmth that makes Hae-in feel relieved, secured, and loved. That right there is, "The heart recognizes what the mind can't."

📍I forgot to include this in my last post because I was in a hurry to finish it, but I laud Kim Soo Hyun for doing a great job during the final scene of episode 11. You can instantly recognize that something felt off with the way "Hyun-woo" called Hae-in, like I said earlier, the real Baek Hyun-woo radiates so much warmth, meanwhile the fake Hyun-woo was cold and I can say that he made me feel uncomfortable. What an amazing performance KSH!

📍Hyun-woo and Hae-in using their baby's due date as their pass codes just means that they still think about him/her. 🤧 Oh that baby could have been so loved by them had they been given the chance.

📍Eun-seong's delusion is worsening. When he was confessing all of his bullshit to Hae-in, I was like...so what? So what if he fell for her first? If he kept her necklace all these years, if he had "loved" her all this time? The point is, HAE-IN DOESN'T LOVE HIM AND DOESN'T WANT TO BE WITH HIM!

📍All the while, I thought that Eun-seong is a dangerous man. Turns out Mo Seul-hee is far more unhinged than him. You can see in Eun-seong's eyes that he was taken aback when his mother confessed to being the person behind the deaths of the people who abused him as a child. Bitch wasn't kidding when she said that she'd go as far as eliminating Hae-in for using him, and Eun-seong may be dumb but not-so-dumb to not know what Seul-hee is capable of. I still feel like he's going to betray his own mother to save Hae-in by either helping Hyun-woo or helping Hae-in in his own twisted way.

📍BAEKHONG IN THEIR MARRIED COUPLE ERA!!! I love that Hae-in can now freely say what she truly feels about Hyun-woo and the hubs gushing when she said that she'd still marry him in any lifetime.

📍The sunset proposal was the reason why I had to pause because I was bawling my eyes out, I kid you not. Hae-in wanting to be officially Mrs. Hyun-woo again so badly but stopped herself because she knew her condition was worsening and she doesn't want to burden him anymore. She wants to spend the rest of her life with him but it's far from possible, she wants to be the wife Hyun-woo deserves but the future holds no guarantee. She was torn between following what her heart wants and not wanting to rip Hyun-woo apart more than she already has (because of her illness). It was such a heartbreaking scene that's why I was crying so hard.

📍And then, the writer and the director decided to shift the scene to Aunt Beom-ja and (future) new husband, the part when they were looking for (future) new hubby's mother and they were kinda like too close to each other, I was smiling because they looked so cute together so you can imagine that I was smiling from ear to ear with tears still running down my face. Also, I did mention before that Aunt Beom-ja is a more unhinged version of Hae-in, actually...auntie and future new hubby are kinda like the older version of BaekHong, only crazier and more chaotic.

📍Da-hye finally realizing that she sided the wrong people. I'm just glad that she was able to get out safely and return to the Hongs. But I am so proud of Soo-cheol for manning up and defending Da-hye and baby Geon-u, he's really growing up 🥹.

📍But I didn't really expect that Hong Man-dae aka grandpa Hong would make such a huge sacrifice to save his family. He was an idiot for trusting Mo Seul-hee but I never wanted him dead. He didn't even get to see his family before passing (except Hae-in but it wasn't like a happy reunion) which was so fucking tragic. Though, I do hope that Papa Hong would finally have the courage to step-up as the head of the family, he's their pillar now and they need him more than ever.

📍Can we talk about the last clip for a bit? I know the show apparently loves to give us viewers cliffhangers and mind boggling shit but I'm overthinking rn. What if they found nothing in the panic room? Or Yoon Eun-seong found it first? This story is unpredictable, anything could happen, but what I do know is that Hae-in is gonna wear the ring Hyun-woo gave her in the next episode. Iykyk.

📍THE EPILOGUE!!! BaekHong has crossed paths many times already and in those times Hyun-woo has saved Hae-in. They're really meant for each other!!

[skunkes]

It's so cool to see how for the past 4 years your yearly redraws had been getting darker and darker and now it got back its brightness and colors! Combined with your newly positive attitude it really made me feel so warm, i'm so happy for you!!! (Also Polina is a lovely name for your gal)

I know the colors were more muted but didn't actively notice the darkening backgrounds! I'd been working on Grey background (for those 2 years) so as to not hurt my eyes when I drew w.o realizing I could just...make it any other not bright white color lol (and without taking account the bg color into consideration for the redraw, because, im just redrawing a figure, right? i dont do backgrounds...who cares...) so im glad everything clicked into place with all the other doodles I did this year ^_^ but I still agree yeah!! thank yu!! i can feel da warmth radiating from it

(answering another adjacent ask under da cut bc ive been answering lots of asks recently)

Thank you!! I think you do have a right to say it, I accept kind words from everywhere as I really do often need them very much, especially now that I'm in the right headspace to be receptive to them and accept them more readily hee hee ^_^ I am excited too...! not TOO excited as I dont wanna set myself up for disappointment but i hope i have fun...^_^ thank yu!

[wonwoonlight]

Wonwoo – bad day + “Sometimes, I don’t know why I put up with you”

800~ words – a thousand starlights event

“Wonwooooooo,” you softly call for him as you snuggle yourself to his side. The arm that welcomes you and pulls you closer isn’t as firm as it usually is, but it’s been a long day for Wonwoo and you’re just glad he even still has it in him to pull you closer.

“Should we rewatch Harry Potter?” you suggest after what seems to be an endless case of scrolling Netflix to no avail.

Wonwoo hums, his fingers mindlessly graze the skin underneath your shirt–something that he does when he’s distressed. The warmth you radiate calms him down, he tells you one time, and it comforts him even if you’re not remotely doing anything. So even if you’re a bit ticklish there and sometimes his calloused fingertips feel rough against your skin, you always let him be and you simply bury yourself deeper into him.

“Or maybe The Hunger Games, I am kind of in the mood for movies with a dystopian setting,” you continue to speak despite his silence, having a mono debate about which movie would be better to play even though you know neither of you would end up paying attention to it.

It’s something that you always do; a habit that Wonwoo has come to greatly appreciate, too. Whenever he’s not in the best mood, you’ll just be there and do all the talking–as if letting him know that you’re here and he doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t wish to talk about whatever it is that turns his mood sour.

That you understand that Wonwoo deals with his bad mood quietly and he doesn’t always wanna say it out loud.

It was quite a trial for you to find out how to deal with Wonwoo when he’s being this way; you’ve tried all sorts of stuff, from leaving him alone to trying to get him to talk. But once you realize that even though Wonwoo doesn’t really wanna talk he also doesn’t really want to be left alone, you figure being there, trying to distract him with small things like a movie or a sudden ballad karaoke session is what works best for Jeon Wonwoo.

Sometimes you’d simply plaster yourself close to him as you read a novel, none of you talk until it’s dark outside and you need to prepare dinner. When you’re feeling particularly chatty, you’d read some parts out loud and do a commentary that Wonwoo religiously listens to.

Sometimes you’d throw yourself over his lap and complain about your problem because Wonwoo would rather listen to the mundane problems that are your annoying coworkers than dwell on his bad mood.

Oftentimes, he doesn’t say much except for a hum that signals that he’s listening. But Wonwoo would drop kisses on top of your head and his arms around you would tighten, telling you that he’s most grateful that you’re doing all that to himself in his silent way.

“Oh! Maybe we should watch the Great British Bake Off!” you’re particularly talkative today, Wonwoo notices, something that he’s glad for because at least your mood isn’t dampened along with his. “You know, I think I can make one of the stuff they’re making if I really want to.”

Wonwoo actually snorts at your blatant statement, pulling you closer to him when you look at him in betrayal, demanding an explanation. “Flower, Mingyu doesn’t even let you use his oven.”

“Mingyu has a poor sense of judgement,” you huff, playing childish just to amuse him.

“In his defense, you did almost break his oven trying to make gingerbread cookies last year.”

You gasp dramatically, your lips slightly ajar as if you’re offended. Wonwoo grins at your antics, heart warming at the fact that you’re doing this because you know Wonwoo finds amusement in you being this way.

“Are you my boyfriend or his?” you pout, pretending to pull yourself away from him and then accidentally hitting him in the face while you do so.

Wonwoo laughs at the striking panic in your eyes, laughter dying down to a content smile when you hold his face in your hands to make sure he’s okay. You could be pretty clumsy at times and it wouldn’t be the first time that you accidentally hit someone in the face–Minghao still talks about the time you accidentally knocked your head against his that the frame of his glasses somehow poked his eye from the side.

He scrunches his nose when you ask for the eighth time in the span of two minutes if he’s really okay, taking your hands away from his face only to squish your face with his palms instead. You frown when he pushes your cheeks together, whining that he’s holding you too tight, which he definitely isn’t.

“Sometimes, I don’t know why I put up with you,” he grins, his voice so soft that you’re sure you wouldn’t have heard it if not for the fact that you’re literally on his lap and your face is only centimeters away from his.

“You love me, that’s why,” you huff after he finally lets go, your heart thumping loudly against your chest at the soft smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, bad mood long forgotten. “That I do.”

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

taglist: @winterciella

[kyberphilosopher]

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish. 

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views. 

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that. 

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in. 

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss. 

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid. 

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you. 

There it is. 

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm. 

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence. 

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here. 

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had. 

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection. 

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you. 

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming. 

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite. 

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing. 

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.” 

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway. 

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames. 

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute. 

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using. 

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him. 

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this. 

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light. 

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often. 

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier. 

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way. 

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge. 

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket. 

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin. 

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still. 

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds. 

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist. 

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him. 

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder. 

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat. 

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren. 

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips. 

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise. 

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have. 

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be. 

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips. 

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time. 

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story. 

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.  

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick. 

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure. 

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him. 

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric. 

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense. 

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him. 

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum. 

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly. 

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over. 

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you. 

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience. 

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back. 

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years. 

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this. 

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs. 

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably. 

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly. 

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him. 

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally. 

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes. 

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him. 

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

[eddswrold-fandicc]

Tomtord Smut

Tom was walking home from the bar, disappointed because it had been closed for cleaning today. Why today? Why couldn't be any other day? This day was the most shit for Tom.

First, he woke up late and missed breakfast. Then, he ran out of alcohol at home. And then Tord wouldn't stop poking at his face. And then Matt dropped his mirror on Tommee bear, getting glass shards in him. After that, Tom had also missed the lunch that Edd made, so he had to make himself a disappointment sandwich.

Today just sucked.

Tom was now at the front door of his shared house. He took a deep breath before walking in. Matt was on the sofa, reading a book with Matt on Matt action being played in the background.

Tom closed the front door and locked it for the night, "Where's everybody else?"

Matt put his finger on his book to keep his place before looking up at Tom, "Edd went to bed, and Todd went to take a shower a few minutes ago."

Tom nodded his head, and then dragged his tired feet to his room. He opened his bedroom door and plopped down on his bed, ready for this day to be over.

"Drunk Tom?"

Great. Now that commie bastard is gonna fuck with him some more today.

Tom turned his body, "No. The bar was closed."

Tord was standing in Tom's doorway with his elbow on the door frame, holding his body. He only had a towel on.

Tom watched a drop of water fall out of his hair, and onto his nose.

"Do you want a picture?" Tord teased.

Tom scoffed and turned back around, burying his face in his arms.

Soon enough, Tom fell asleep, finally glad this day was over with.

Until he was woken abruptly.

"Tom," his body was being shaken.

"Thomas, wake up.." who's shaking Tom's body?

"Please, wake up." Tom's eye opened.

Tord was sitting beside Tom, on his bed, "What the fuck do you want, commie?"

Tom was now upset that he'd been woken up.

"It's storming hard and the power went out. I cant see my hentai."

Tom now sat up, "You woke me up over the power being out?"

It was too dark to see Tord's face, but Tom could feel his body heat radiating from him. He was close.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you had a flashlight. I can't see my hentai."

Tom sighed, "You're not using my flashlight over your stupid cartoon porno. Especially after waking me up over something so stupid."

"Hentai," Tord corrected. "Then how am I supposed to get off? My phone is dead."

Tom made a face, but nobody could see it. "I don't know and I dont care. Get the fuck out of my room so I can sleep."

Then silence.

Tom didn't feel Tord move, he still felt his body heat.

"Commie."

No response.

"Go away."

Still no response.

"... Tord?"

Now Tom put his hands out in front of him to feel for Tord. He felt himself poke Tord's neck. Tord jumped at the sudden physical contact.

Then Tom felt movement. Tord was moving his arm. Tom put his hand on Tord's arm and trailed down to his hand to see what he was doing. And Tord wasn't stopping him.

Tom got to Tords hand and touched something wet. He immediately retreated his hand, "What the fuck! Are you jerking right beside me?! You fucking pervert, get out of here!"

"But Thomas, it felt good when you touched me. Do it again~"

"Get away from me." Tom bore through his teeth.

"Please touch me, Jehovah?"

"No. Go away," Tom repeated.

Then there was silence again. Tom suddenly felt a pair of warm hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto his bed.

Tom was too confused to say anything.

"What if I touch you then~?" Tord's breath hit Tom's neck.

Tom's face immediately heated up and he felt himself getting hard.

No, this shouldn't be happening. Tom didn't like Tord like that, and he sure as hell wasn't gay. Then why is Tom getting hard from this? And why hasn't he said anything yet?

Tord started kissing and sucking on Tom's neck. Tom wasn't pushing him off, so he kept going.

Tord snaked his hand under Tom's hoodie, then under his shirt, and began pulling it off.

Tom was still silent. Maybe he did want this. He still doesn't know.

Tord used his knee to grind on Tom's crotch, and used his hands to rub on Tom's chest.

"Someone's hard." Tord cooed in Tom's ear.

Tom stayed silent as Tord continued kissing on Tom's neck, eventually moving down to his chest and collarbone. Tom bit his lip as Tord touched a sensitive area on his collarbone.

Then Tord stopped, "Tom say something." It was too quiet for him.

Tom thought of something to say. But couldn't think of anything.

"Are... Are you okay, Jehova?" Tord now had a hint of concern in his voice. Only a hint though.

Tom cleared his throat, "I think so.. I've never done this with a guy before and I dont know how i feel about it."

Tord got off of Tom, "Do you want me to stop?"

Tom thought for a moment.

"No. Let's keep going."

Now Tord was shocked. But didn't hesitate to go back down on Tom and continue to kiss on him.

He now used his hand to grind on Tom's clothed erection. Tom started breathing heavily, which Tord liked.

Tord unbuttoned Tom's jeans and pulled them off, along with his underwear, "Top or bottom?"

Do what now? Tord's letting him choose?

"Uhh. I don't know.. whatever I guess.."

Tord shrugged his shoulders and took Tom's cock into his mouth. The movement was so quickly that it caused Tom to jolt. He felt his face heat up like it never has before.

Tord began to quickly suck Tom's cock, making sure to get it all nice and wet.

Tom bit his lip again and closed his voided eyes. Maybe he did like this.

Tord pulled off of Tom's cock and climbed on top of him. Tom now realized that Tord had been naked this whole time. Tord positioned his entrance over Tom's slippery dick, and slowly pushed the head in.

Tord's breathing hitched as his rear end was in pain from the stretch. Tom grabbed Tord's thighs and began rubbing them, finally melting into this session.

And it was helping. Tord started pushing himself further down on Tom, and Tom was now aching to fuck Tord. He wished the lights were on so he can see Tord's face look so vulnerable.

Tord was now fully seated on Tom's cock, waiting for his walls to adjust to the stretch. Truth is, he's never done this before either. Maybe he should have grabbed some lube first.

Tord was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Tom moved his right hand from Tord's thigh to his cock. Tord jolted. His tip was warm and leaking precum. Tord was aching to be touched.

Tom started teasing the tip, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion, and squeezing the tips of his fingers on the shaft. Tord's breathing was shuddering, and he started moving on Tom's cock, loving the pleasure brought to his own.

Tom took his hands off Tord's cock and onto his hips, earning a whimper from Tord. He used his hands to move Tord back and forth on his dick.

Tord placed his hands on Tom's bare chest and bit his lip. It hurt, but it also felt good.

Tord started moving on his own, taking Tom's hand and placing it back on his aching dick. Tom took the signal and began to pump his closed fist around Tord's cock.

Tord felt good like this. So he started making small moans. Tom kicked his head back and took in the pleasure that Tord was giving him. He started thrusting into Tord, causing Tord to gasp and moan kind of loudly.

Tom was now thrusting into Tord and jerking him off at the same time. Tord was a moaning mess, absolutely melting into Tom. And Tom liked seeing Tord so vulnerable. It turned him on even more, so he started thrusting harder and harder, until he heard Tord moan very loudly and his breath shudder.

Tom stopped, "Are you okay?" He couldn't see Tord's face.

"Mmmm... Hah.. y-yeah. Fuck me right there, Tom.. p-pleaseee" Tord moaned into Tom's chest.

So Tom did exactly what Tord asked. He thrusted his cock in that same spot again, earning a load moan from Tord, who was now shaking.

Tom started thrusting faster at that spot, making Tord go nuts. He was scratching at Tom's shoulders and arms, shaking and moaning, trying to kiss on Tom's chest.

Tom was absolutely loving it. Even though he couldn't see Tord's face, he liked the way Tord was acting. He started feeling Tord tighten around his cock. Tom began jerking Tord's cock faster and squeezing his waist with his other hand.

"OH! Ah~ T-T-Tommm.. I'm gon-na cum~! Please make m-mee cum" Tord moaned shakily.

Tom pounded into Tord's sweet spot a few more times before Tord wrapped his arms around Tom's head and nearly screamed into the crook of his neck. Tord's hot seed splattered on both of their stomachs.

But Tom wasn't stopping. Not when he's getting close.

Now Tord was going crazy with overstimulation.

"T-Om, please~! P-please I can't... I can't ta-take it.."

Tom wrapped his arms around a shaky and messy Tord as he made his final thrusts before shooting his load into Tord. Tom grunted as he rode out his orgasm, finally slowing down his pace and coming to a full stop.

Tord was still breathing heavily on him, like he just ran 3 miles, and making small moans.

"Let's hope you didn't wake anyone, commie. You're loud." Tom panted.

Then his phone buzzed. It was a text from Edd.

'Are you guys done yet? Matt is in my room scared because of you two.'

[doeilovr]

DREAMING

-> Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

-> Genre: Angst, a bit of fluff

-> Warnings: mentions of car accident and amnesia, smoking, swearing, mentions hospital

-> Words count: 3.5k

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Jaemin opened his eyes, the fluorescent light making his head hurt a bit. He looked around, mouth dry and mind blank. Jaemin’s eyes were still adjusting to the light, when he suddenly felt a hand on top of his.

Jaemin’s eyes wandered to your sleeping figure, head resting on the bed, while your hands were covering his gently. He froze, studying you with furrowed brows.

You moved in the probably uncomfortable position you were in, lifting your head to meet Jaemin’s eyes. “Hey”, you gently said, almost in a whisper and with a warm smile on your lips.

“You slept here again”, Jaemin stated, trying his best to smile back at you. You shrugged, properly sitting up in the chair, hands not leaving Jaemin’s.

Jaemin studied you, his eyes wandering between yours and your warm hands.

Why, just why was it so hard to remember. Jaemin wished he could remember you the way you remember him. He wished he could give back the love that radiated from your eyes.

You chuckled awkwardly, pulling your hands back to fix your hair and shirt. “So”, you mumbled, “I hope you atleast slept well?”

Jaemin smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “Like a stone”, he nodded, “why, did I often sleep unwell?” He was suddenly curious, wondering what else you knew about him that he didn’t.

You bit your lip, “actually, you just stayed up late often, working.” Jaemin was a photographer, that he remembered, but everything after one year ago was erased from his memory.

Which was a lot, since he had met you a year ago. You immediately fell for each other the moment his eyes found yours. You met in a park at midnight, both of you in need of a walk and some fresh air.

Somehow you both stopped by a busker that night, Jaemin being attracted by the voice of the singer performing in the almost empty riverside park and you overhearing the words of comfort hiding in his lyrics.

You and Jaemin had talked until the early morning, just sitting by the river. And afterwards you had both left, feeling happy until you realized you hadn’t even exchanged numbers.

Neither of you believed in fate, yet somehow you crossed paths only a week later in Japan. Both volunteering for the same organization. You couldn’t believe your luck, neither did Jaemin.

Jaemin didn’t waste any time after that and asked you out a few days later when you were both back home again. You were young, but every step with Jaemin felt just right.

The car accident happened so fast, leaving Jaemin with bruises and amnesia. And you with a shattered heart.

He was in the hospital for a whole week now and it was so hard to introduce yourself to him again, as if you didn’t date him for a year already. And having Jaemin constantly look at you like he didn’t promise to be with you forever just a week ago.

But as heartbroken as you felt, you saw how much he tried to remember and make you feel comfortable. You couldn’t help but get yourself together aswell, for the sake of Jaemin and your relationship.

“It’s lunch time”, the door to Jaemin’s private room opened, the male nurse walking in, holding a plate of food and putting it down in front of Jaemin.

“Thank you, Jeno”, you smiled, sitting on the edge of Jaemin’s bed. Jaemin looked between you and the male nurse, wondering if you were friends or something.

“There’s some food for you too, y/n”, Jeno smiled back. “Jaemin, enjoy the lunch!” Jeno patted him on the shoulder slightly, before he turned around to leave again.

You moved a bit closer to Jaemin, preparing the food for him and pouring him a glass of water.

“Oh, yummy”, you clapped, eying the food on the yellow tray, “it looks really good.”

Jaemin bit the insides of his cheeks, his eyes on you. “Can- can you help me?”

You stared at him, heart clenching at the sound of his almost helpless voice. “Sure”, you whispered, moving closer once again.

You fed Jaemin in silence for some time, smiling at how much he enjoyed the warm food. “Have some too”, Jaemin suddenly spoke, nudging his head in your direction.

You nodded, taking a bite from the food aswell, not even thinking anything as you ate with the same spoon. “It’s good”, you smiled, covering your full mouth with one hand.

Jaemin chuckled at the sight, “I’m glad.” You continue feeding Jaemin, making sure to also let him have a sip of water in between.

“By the way, the doctor said that maybe you could go home in a few days already. Isn’t that great?” You smiled again, watching carefully not to spill any food.

Jaemin raised his eyebrows at you, swallowing the bite quickly. “Home.. to my family?”

He seemed genuinely confused and you suddenly felt bad, having forgotten for a moment that he didn’t remember everything you shared together.

“We live together. In a small apartment. But I mean if you want to go to your parents’ house instead-“ you shrugged, Jaemin interrupting you quickly.

“No. I want to stay with you.” He nodded, more to himself, eyes staring blankly on the half empty plate in front of him. “Besides, my family’s in Busan. I would have to travel and I don’t want to do that right now.” You only nodded at his words, continuing to eat in silence.

—

On the weekend, the doctors agreed that Jaemin could finally go home. You packed his stuff, while he changed in the bathroom, before the two of you left the hospital, taking a taxi home.

For both you and Jaemin it had been a while since you were last out. Especially Jaemin seemed very careful and almost anxious.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, letting Jaemin go in first. You had asked a friend of yours to come by every couple days to tidy up the space.

Your apartment was small, a bedroom and en suite and a cozy living space. You had no balcony, but access to the rooftop, which was pretty great too.

You were almost a bit frightened, watching Jaemin drop his bag and look around, stopping by the pictures on the bookshelf.

Carefully you approached him, taking a look at the picture in his hands. It was taken in Japan where the two of you met for the second time.

You really liked that picture, both of you doing what you loved the most, helping others. “When was this taken?” Jaemin tilted his head, squinting his eyes a bit as if he tried hard to recall the memories.

“In Japan, a year ago. This was our second time meeting each other”, you explained, Jaemin nodding.

“We met while volunteering?”

You hummed in response, “yeah and we couldn’t believe we had the luck to meet each other again like this.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Wait, when did we meet the first time then?” Jaemin turned his head to look at you.

“At a park, a couple weeks earlier. We were strangers, but we both stopped to listen to a busker and I don’t know, we were drawn to each other somehow.”

Jaemin smiled a bit, not remembering the feeling, but still knowing what you were talking about. “Kind of romantic that we met again”, he mumbled.

“Yeah”, you giggled, “we stayed there for a few days, helping where we could. We sticked together for the whole time, probably afraid we could lose each other again.”

“And then? Did I ask you out?”

You nodded, meeting Jaemin’s eyes. “Yes, only after we spent a few more nights together. It was kind of cute how quickly you asked me out.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows, “we had a lot to talk about, huh? I mean, is it normal to spend so many nights talking?”

He seemed really confused, but you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his arm slightly. “I didn’t say we talked”, you added with a cheeky grin.

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes, suddenly flustered. “Oh”, he only mumbled.

You walked into the kitchen, feeling a bit bad for laughing at him. “Are you hungry, Jaemin? I can make you dinner if you want?”

Jaemin placed the frame back on the shelf, before he walked into the kitchen too, looking around. “I am yes”, he answered, eyes roaming around. “But could I maybe wash up first?”

You turned to face him, standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “Oh my god, sure. Sorry, I hadn’t thought about that.” You scratched your head, feeling a bit awkward.

“It’s fine”, Jaemin bit the inside of his cheeks, “ehm, where was the bathroom again?”

You gestured behind him, “it’s next to the bedroom. You can take a bath if you want. I can cook in the meantime.”

Jaemin nodded. “We have a bathtub?”

“We do”, you smiled, your heart hurting a bit when you remembered how much Jaemin wanted one when you were searching for an apartment together.

“Cool”, Jaemin grinned, “then, I’m gonna take a bath.” He turned around, disappearing in the bathroom. The sound of the water being turned on was heard soon after.

You prepared a simple dinner, consisting of noodles and a salad, while Jaemin washed up. You couldn’t wait to also wash up, rinsing off the smell of the hospital.

“Y/n?”

You turned around, having just poured the sauce over the spaghetti. Jaemin stood in the living room, a towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair covering his forehead.

“Yes Jaemin?”

“Could you help me with this”, Jaemin held up a fresh bandage, indicating for you to help him with his wounds.

You nodded vigorously, putting the pot in the sink before you walked over to Jaemin, gesturing for him to sit on the bed, since it was more comfortable than the sofa. You kneeled down in front of him.

“I could have done it myself, but-“ Jaemin started. “Don’t worry, I’m happy to help”, you smiled, eyes focused on the bandage he handed you.

You carefully removed the old one from his stomach. The scar underneath looked a lot better already. “I’ll put some ointment on it”, you whispered, one hand moving to hold his waist, to have a steadier hand.

Jaemin hissed at the contact, “your hand is cold.” You looked up to him with apologetic eyes, mumbling a “sorry”.

Jaemin watched you intently, feeling so grateful to have someone by his side. He still wished he could give back the love that he always saw in your eyes.

It really burdened him that he knew barely anything about you or the life you shared.

“I’m sorry”, he suddenly mumbled, not even realizing he had started to cry. “I’m sorry I can’t give you the love you deserve. Or anything at all. I’m sorry that I hurt you so much, I really wish I could remember everything. I really do. I’m just sorry.”

You blinked back tears, your heart clenching at his words. “Dont apologize, Jaemin.” You sat down on the bed, pulling your boyfriend into a hug. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. And you don’t have to be sorry, okay?”

You couldn’t help but also cry, both of you just hugging each other tightly, sharing the same pain. Jaemin pulled back after what seemed like forever, holding your head with both of his hands.

“I’m gonna try my best to be the man you deserve again. I’m gonna go back to be the Jaemin you knew. I’ll try my best”, he promised, thumb brushing over your wet cheek.

You only nodded, overwhelmed by his loving words for you. Jaemin gently placed a kiss on your forehead, drying your tears with his thumb. “It’s gonna be okay”, he whispered, pulling you back into his arms again.

Jaemin’s promise was what gave you hope again. He really tried, learning about himself and you. Trying to be his old self again.

You tried aswell. Feeding him with the information he wanted and being there for him when he needed you.

Nothing could change your love for Jaemin, you felt like it only grew with every day. But you still couldn’t help but wonder if Jaemin even felt the same love for you.

A few days after you had shared these loving words, you and Jaemin sat in bed together. You were reading, while Jaemin looked through albums with pictures he took the past year.

They were mostly of you and the trips you had made together. They were mostly connected with volunteering, which made Jaemin happy. All he ever wanted was everyone around him to be happy.

He found a fairly recent picture, where you two were sitting at lunch. Jaemin couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw himself holding a cigarette.

He gasped, which made you immediately look at him in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I smoke?” Jaemin was really shocked about himself. “Am I stupid?”

You wanted to laugh at his cute voice, but you remembered how hard the past few months in your relationship were because he started to change.

“Well you did. Doesen’t mean you still have to”, you shrugged.

Jaemin dropped the album in his lap, turning his head to you. “Any other stupid thing I did that you haven’t told me yet?” His voice got really high in the end, while his eyes only widened.

You bit your lips, a few things coming to your mind. Jaemin’s eyes widened, since it had only been a joke. But you really did seem to have some things to say.

“Actually”, you sighed, putting your book down, “I don’t know why you did all of these things, but at some point you really.. changed. It was only a month ago, when we would start to fight more often. I was really convinced you would leave me, but then-“, you cut yourself off, averting your eyes.

Jaemin tilted his head, “so I was an asshole?”

You looked back at him and couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. “Jaemin”, you smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Only an idiot would do leave someone like you”, Jaemin mumbled, shaking his head at himself.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I mean, you’re still here right.”

“And I always will be”, Jaemin smiled, grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

At this moment it felt as if the Jaemin you had once met at the park at night sat in front of you again. Not the Jaemin he had turned to before he had the accident, but the Jaemin that looked at you as if you were his whole world.

You unconsciously leaned in closer, Jaemin now only inches away. His expression was of a mixture of fear and adoration.

Jaemin didn’t dare to move or lean in closer, he was scared. Scared he would hurt you again. Panicking, he lowered his head, dodging your kiss. “We should sleep, it’s late”, he mumbled, letting go of your hand and lying down.

You watched him with a sad expression, watched how he shut off just like he did back then. And somehow it hurt even more now. Was it because you had crossed a line? Asking something from Jaemin he wasn’t ready for?

Without another word you put your book aside, lying down aswell and hoping that tomorrow was gonna be better.

—

“Jaemin listen”, your sharp voice cut through the noise of the engine, Jaemin sighed as his grip around the steering wheel tightened.

“I don’t want to talk about it, we’ve had this before”, Jaemin answered, seemingly annoyed.

“There you go again, shutting off whenever I want to talk it out”, you shrugged, staring at Jaemin’s side profile as his eyes were focused on the street.

It was night and you were driving home from dinner. It was an evening he had planned out so well once, your one year anniversary. But the plan he had a few weeks ago just didn’t seem right anymore.

“If you can’t accept me the way I am then maybe we should stop it”, Jaemin suddenly spoke out. You couldn’t believe his words, couldn’t believe that your Jaemin was capable of saying something like this so easily.

“No, that’s wrong. Jaemin, you can’t do that.”

Jaemin let out a short laugh. “See? That’s the problem. You won’t let me do anything. To you I’m so perfect. Perfect Jaemin”, he explained with a loud voice. “But I don’t want to be that anymore.”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “So you say you wanna break up, because you can’t bear me trying to help you.”

“Help?” Jaemin took a quick glance at you, his focus quickly going back to the street. “When did you ever help me, huh?”

“What do you mean? I told you to start taking photography seriously. I told you to stop smoking, so many times. And you told me you were thankful. Was that all for nothing? Was it all just a lie?”

Jaemin was silent, his head spinning. You turned away from him. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Na Jaemin. I can’t believe I spent so much time on you. On loving you”, you muttered.

“What did you just say”, Jaemin sounded surprised, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Just let me out, for God’s sake”, you shouted. Jaemin stepped on the brake, the car coming to a quick halt.

You were about to unbuckle your seat belt, taking one last look at Jaemin. He was staring at you, as hurt as you. “I- I’m sorry”, you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m sorry for believing we were meant to be.”

Just when something flickered in Jaemin’s eyes, your gaze wandered behind him. It seemed like time had stopped in that moment, when two headlights came closer and closer until they fully illuminated your car.

You and Jaemin looked at each other and then the car hit you.

Jaemin who hadn’t buckled his seatbelt out of anger hit his head several times, unlike you.

Jaemin opened his hand a few times. One time when the ambulance had just arrived and his eyes wandered to your figure that was still in the damaged car.

Another time when they transported him down the hallways of the hospital. Several nurses and doctors shouting and talking.

“Stay with me Mr. Na. Stay with me”, a male voice shouted. Jaemin would always recognize Jeno, the nurse that took care of him the most in those days in the hospital that followed.

And then one time when he was already in his private room in the hospital and you were there beside him, crying. “Jaemin you can’t leave me. Please”, you sobbed, your warm fingers gently trailing along his arm. And that’s when everything went black until he woke up with amnesia.

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating and I'm wondering what you're dreaming Wondering if it's me you're seeing

Jaemin halted next to the River, listening in on the sweet tunes from the busker nearby. He walked up to the young man, who stood alone in the park at midnight, singing his heart out.

He smiled to himself, the familiar melody warming his heart a little. He looked around, stopping on the figure on the right side of the busker. On you.

In a quick moment your eyes met and something inside Jaemin told him that everything was gonna be alright. All his grey days would become so bright and colorful.

And like that, like the little switch that turned when he saw you for the first time, all his memories came flooding back.

—

Jaemin sat up in bed, breathing heavily and sweating. Startled you turned on the light, moving closer to put one arm around him.

“What’s wrong Jaemin”, you asked concerned, rubbing his back gently to comfort him.

Jaemin’s breath was still shaky. “I had a dream”, he muttered, still trying to calm his beating heart. Jaemin turned to you, his eyes full of love and emotions.

“What”, you asked again, not knowing what was going on. Jaemin smiled, a tear building in the corner of his eye.

“I love you. I love you so much”, he smiled, embracing you tightly. You were still a bit confused from his sudden reaction. “I love you too Jaemin, always will.”

“I’m sorry for doubting we weren’t meant to be”, Jaemin whispered against your neck. You mouth fell open, but Jaemin didn’t let go off you, only hugging you tighter.

“Jaemin”, you whispered, at loss of words.

“I remember, I remember it all”, he cried, moving back so he could look at your eyes. “I love you so much and I wanna thank you for sticking with me for so long. For not giving up on me”, Jaemin confessed, feeling absolutely overwhelmed.

You didn’t know whether to cry or smile, your heart felt like it healed again. “I missed you so much Jaemin.”

Jaemin held you against his chest again, gently stroking your back like he always did whenever you were sad. He was back, your Jaemin was finally back.

“I’m not gonna leave you ever again, I promise”, Jaemin softly spoke, planting a kiss on top of your head.

“I know.”

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a/n: this one has been in my draft for ages.. and finally I finished it hehe :3 I hope you enjoy it and I also wish you a nice weekend! Btw I’m also working on all the requests ;)

[glimmerglanger]

Soooo…….HotR Codywan proposal snippet if you’re still taking requests? I feel like they’d be absolute saps about it and I am Soft

OOOOOH! Oh! They're going to be SUCH saps, fair warning! Let's have some family time and sweetness and a proposal on this fine Friday morning! (No spice in this snippet, only SWEET).

~~~~~~~

Autumn slipped away, eventually, and Cody wasn’t sorry to see it go. Ben’s civil case wrapped up towards the end of the season, leaving him with enough funds to cover the memorial costs for his uncle and some extra, besides.

Mostly, he knew Ben put the money towards his school expenses and loans, though he also insisted on paying half when they bought a new bed for Cody’s place, replacing the one they’d broken so impressively.

Winter brought with it true cold, the dropping temperatures no longer teasing at freezing. Often, the sun didn’t rise until long after Cody was already up and working, but he was used to that.

And he had someone warm to curl up with in bed after a long and chilly day, burying his nose against the back of Ben’s neck so many nights.

Ben mostly slept over at the ranch, though he’d kept the apartment. He said, when they discussed it again, that he thought he ought to at the least keep it until the end of the school year. He’d stayed there through most of his work during finals, but….

But, in general, he went to sleep beside Cody and woke up beside Cody. In general, he was there, sharing meals just the two of them or with the rest of the family, going to the triplet’s games, or taking Anakin for walks with Boba.

He was there on New Year’s Eve, watching with a bemused expression as Boba and the triplets helped Jango load fireworks into the back of the four-wheeler.

“Aren’t fireworks...generally a summertime thing?” Ben asked, leaning against the porch as they loaded up box after box.

“New Years is during the summer where I grew up,” Val said, coming down the steps, offering out steaming cups of coffee - decaf, Cody hoped - as she did. “Jango and I were used to New Year's fireworks. So…” She shrugged.

“Do you do this every year?” Ben asked, expression curious, and Cody left them to it, making sure the four-wheeler was appropriately loaded up. He’d handled fireworks the past few years, but Jango wanted to take care of setting them off again, with Rex and Ahsoka volunteering to help with the lighting, so…

So, he ended up sitting beside Ben, huddled out on the porch and wrapped up in a blanket as the four-wheeler set off into one of the nearby fields. “Warm enough?” he asked, feeling the heat radiating from Ben’s body, all along his side.

In fact, it didn’t feel that cold on the porch, not with so many of them sitting so close together. But the air bit, still, cold and crisp, even with the blanket of clouds overhead. There’d been flurries, throughout the day, and they were starting to come down more heavily, drifting through the air, heavy and white.

“Mm, yes,” Ben said, arm curled around him, shifting to make room for Wooley on the step below them. He looked tired - but nearly midnight was late for both of them, early risers by nature and habit - with darkened circles under his eyes.

“We’ll go to sleep, after this,” Cody promised him, and got a smile in return, sweet and fleeting.

“No sleeping yet,” Val said, wading through the pile of them, followed by Bly, who started handing out cups. They didn’t keep champagne flutes or even enough wine glasses. Everyone got what was available, coffee cups, tall glasses, and even a few mason jars, already filled.

Most of them contained sparkling grape juice.

Cody and Ben got champagne, by the smell of it, and Ben raised an eyebrow. “Don’t drink yet,” Cody told him, with a little grin, and Ben huffed a laugh, opening his mouth, only to be cut off by Echo, who stood quickly, holding up a hand.

“Get ready!” Echo shouted, everyone shifting around, vibrating when he started counting backwards from ten.

Cody nudged Ben at one, gesturing to his cup, and they all managed to drink more or less on time as, off in the fields, the first of the fireworks went off with a flash of brilliant color and a crash of sound.

Ben made a sound, both surprised and delighted, and Cody set down his glass, curled an arm around Ben’s shoulders, and pulled him over, kissing him as the first seconds of the new year ticked over, feeling something stretch out, filling up the entirety of the space inside his ribs, realization unfolding not in a flash but in a sweet, inevitable wave.

He stared at Ben, when they pulled apart, Ben turning to watch the fireworks lighting up the night, and knew that he wanted to kiss Ben every New Year’s for the rest of their lives, wanted to sit and watch fireworks with him, hold him after a long day at work, eat breakfast beside him--

“Hey, man, fireworks are that way,” Fives hissed in his ear, at some point, while elbowing him in the ribs, and Cody shoved back at him, but blinked and shook himself, turning his attention to the show up in the sky.

They’d gone all out.

They usually did.

The fireworks echoed out across the fields, the sound held close by the cloud cover. Cody knew, from experience, that there would be cars parked out along the roads leading to the ranch, neighbors and people from further in town, who came out to see the show every year, watching colors chase each other, heralding in another year.

Ponds started the cheer, when the last of the fireworks finished echoing, leaving bright afterimages on the inside of Cody’s eyelids, and they all pushed themselves up, gathering blankets and cups while excitedly talking, half of them cleaning up the porch while the other half of them lit out for the fields, going to help find the firework casings, making sure nothing had landed where it ought not.

Cody ended up standing at the sink, rinsing off glasses that Ben dried, listening in as Echo’s girlfriend - who had never attended before - talked to Ben, her hair pulled back and her cheeks rosy.

He was glad Ben had someone to make conversation with. Cody’s thoughts were buzzing, thrumming along. He felt...not quite distracted. More waiting, with the tension in his gut of anticipation and something larger.

It was snowing in earnest by the time the clean up was finished and Jango, Rex, and Ahsoka returned as conquering heroes, to cheers and applause. The flakes swirled around them when Cody and Ben finally managed to say their good nights, stepping off the porch and heading back to their space.

Cody held Ben’s hand, gloves in the way, both of them leaning together as they crunched across the frozen ground.

Cody made it to his porch before he pulled Ben to a stop, standing there in the softly falling snow and just...looking at him for a moment. Seeing the whole future, spread out around him, feeling - feeling everything, all at once, wild potential just waiting for him to embrace it.

And he’d never been any good at ignoring that feeling, at hesitating once he knew what he wanted. Indecision wasn’t a valuable skill in his career, nor a feeling he’d ever been comfortable with. He exhaled, just looking at Ben for a long moment, lovely and cold and--

Everything he wanted.

“So,” Cody said, tugging on both ends of Ben’s scarf, pulling him in closer, cold noses brushing together when he went on, the words just slipping free, like they were meant to escape his lips, “What would it take to convince you to marry me?”

He was close enough to see Ben blink several times in rapid succession, eyes so clear and so bright, even as Ben asked, “What?”

Cody felt his mouth curve, pulling on the scarf again, stealing a fast kiss as Ben’s hands came up to rest on his sides. “A nice ring?” he asked, thoughts running ahead, wondering what kind of ring Ben might want. Something practical, likely. He wasn’t the ostentatious sort. He kissed Ben again. “A big wedding?” Ben’s hands squeezed, his breath came out in a pant against Cody’s mouth. “A fancy honeymoon?”

“Are you - are you being serious?” Ben asked, voice wavering, and Cody could acknowledge that this was...a bit sudden.

But he knew how he felt. He looked at Ben and saw the future unfurling outwards and wanted it, wanted to make it his, to shape it into being.

He made a rough sound, let go of the scarf to cup Ben’s face, and pulled him into a proper kiss, long and deep. And, when he pulled back, Ben looking dazed, he said, “Yeah, Ben. I’m being serious. What would it take? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

The snow was starting to fall in earnest, thick flakes swirling around them, landing on the copper strands of Ben’s hair and his eyelashes. His cheeks were tinged red from the cold. Maybe from the kiss, but Cody didn’t want to presume.

Not even with Ben swallowing, staring at him without blinking, eyes searching.

Cody wanted to prompt him for an answer, even though it hadn’t been very long, perhaps a heartbeat. Maybe two. And then Ben exhaled shakily and said, voice thick and quiet, “Well. You could ask. Properly.”

Cody groaned, the sound torn from his chest, fingers clenching in Ben’s hair as he rasped, “Will you marry me, Ben?”

He felt Ben shiver, watching his eyes flutter, delightfully, and had a moment to grin - feeling victorious, that same heady kick that came with looking over at the timer during a competition and knowing he had the best time - when Ben murmured, “Yeah, Cody. I will.”

And then Ben was kissing him as the snow swirled around them and the world went on, unnoticed.

[pansyslut]

hidden letters

summary: astoria finds letters you and draco wrote to each other in the past, not knowing how deep your love for each other truly was

warnings: a little angst, a little fluff, slight cheating

gif: @animeglitch

flipping through the hidden chest of letters, astoria looks at each of them suspiciously, having never seen them before. each marked with a date and nothing more, she’s hesitant to prod into her husbands secret mail. sighing, she lets her curiosity get the best of her and opens it marked with a number one.

november 2, 2002

dear y/n,

well shit, she thought. this was her hint to turn back now. this was her clue to not gaze any further and let the letters be...

i know i shouldn’t be writing you. i know we agreed to let things be and keep everything between us... but i cant. i miss you dearly– more than i can put into words. i miss waking up in the mornings with you by my side. i miss being excited to go home knowing that you’ll be there waiting for me. i miss your laughs and our deep talks and your unwavering joy, flooding through the house with you laughter and presence. i miss you. i understand if you don’t write back. but i thought you should know that i still think about you daily and the time we had shared did not go wasted. you have forever made an impact on my heart and i thank you for that. i hope for me to always be apart of you as you are to me.

sincerely,

draco

feeling a tear fall from her face, she looks down to see the few droplets how hitting the paper and leaving marks on the now smudged ink. astoria knew that him and y/n had a hidden relationship for a short period of time but she never knew the extent of it. she had always liked her when you all were in school. a fellow slytherin- yet not slytherin at all as you radiated positivity like any other hufflepuff. but she was shocked to see how draco was so keen on you. draco is the complete opposite– always dark and gloomy, rarely ever having a smile on his face. reaching down to grab the second letter, she opens it to find it was written by draco yet again.

november 17, 2002

dear y/n,

i lied. and i’m sorry. i lied when i wrote that i would understand if you didn’t write back. because as i watch the window for your letter in hopes for it to arrive, i realize now that i was wrong. for whatever this is worth, i’m throwing myself out on a limb here. if you want nothing to do with me then i understand i will respect that. but please let me know if you are alright.

sincerely,

draco

november 22, 2002

dear draco,

i’m sorry too. i should’ve replied but we both know deep down that this is wrong. you are to be married. married to a good woman, who will help provide and keep your family name strong and intact. i don’t hate you for it. i wish i could but i don’t. you will be a good husband to her, i have no doubt. she will bare children and you will be happy... at least that’s what i keep telling myself. i need you to be happy. i need to know that we didn’t throw away what we had for nothing. so please dray, make it mean something. if not for me than for your fiancé. i miss you too.

sincerely,

y/n

astorias heart aches as she reads the last few sentences. she wants to hate you for loving her husband but she can’t blame you. and you had even wrote than you wanted her to be happy and for draco to be a good husband. what kind of woman does that? what kind of woman lets her man be taken by another? a respectable one. there is no distaste in astorias heart even if it still stung.

december 1, 2002

dear y/n,

you have no idea how big of a grin i have right now. if anyone were to walk in they’d probably think i was finally losing it. i might be actually. i’m so glad to hear from you. i want to know everything. fill me in on all that i’ve missed.

as you know, i’m set to be married in a month. i dread the day as it comes closer and closer and i wish there was something i could do about it. astoria is constantly poking and prodding about wedding this, wedding that, it’s driving me crazy. it only makes me think of you and our stupid dream to run away and have elvis marry us. my mother would throw the biggest tantrum it would’ve been amazing if we went through with it.

p.s. have i mentioned i’m glad you answered and that i miss you?

yours,

draco

yours... the bitter word sits in her brain. as she reads through the letters it is becoming more and more apparent and how draco would never truly be hers. you would always be sitting in the back of his brain.

december 18, 2002

dear dray,

haha very funny. i bet before i even got to the alter your mother would have sliced off my head. and don’t get cross with astoria, you know she’s doing this for her family as well. i do think a part of her will care for you. i don’t see how she couldn’t. remember to pick and choose your battles and remember “happy wife happy life”. and i’m sure astoria could also just as easily slice off your head as well– be sure to remember that.

you’re getting married in a week. i don’t know how we’ve got to this point but we have nonetheless. be good to her. i know you will. make your family proud. that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do and this is your chance.

p.s. i’m a little butt hurt i didn’t get an invite but whatever

astoira shoved each of the letters into the envelopes, not being able to read anymore. there were still hundreds more scattered throughout the chest but it was no use. her husband loved another. she obviously knew he didn’t love her. no matter how many failed attempts of being a sweet, competent wife, she was met time and time again with nothing but a stone cold glare.

shoving the chest back into its spot, she starts pacing the room. after a few minutes, hey eyes catch a half written letter laying on his desk.

october 12, 2005

dear y/n,

you are the love of my life. i’m sorry for throwing that away. i intend to fix this. i’m done trying to please my family while losing myself in return. i’m not a scared little boy anymore. i am going to leave astoria and return to my rightful wife. i’ve been with her for three years and neither of us our happy. it’s always been you, y/n. whenever i fall short, you’re there to pick me up. whenever i have doubts, you’re the one slapping the back of my head muttering how mach of an idiot i am. i love-

and that’s where it ended. astoria didn’t know if he stopped whether it was due to no ink or being preoccupied or having a change of heart, but she knew he was right. none of this was how it was meant to me. and she was going to fix it.

[lokislittlesigyn]

You and Me - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

Part 2 of Sigyn’s Angst-to-Fluff Drabbles

Inspired by Cozy’s Fluff-to-Angst Fun and Games!

Pairing: Loki / Female reader

Warnings: Strong themes of depression and suicidal ideation/a near attempt. Mention of Infinity War and Endgame and all the things that happen there. Fluff awaits at the end.

Author’s Note: A nearly-impossible prompt to turn happy, but I tried my best without taking an easier route like “it was just a dream” etc! I wanted to give it my all. This is the most.. sensitive-topic fic I’ve posted here, so please, skip it or skim it if you need to. <3

@silver-lupines:

Ohohohohoho Loki’s permanent death and the reader is left as a widow. No resurrections.

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

You still remember it.

You’ll never forget.

Never.

The smell of the air. Thick smoke in your lungs. The colors. The sounds. Death, all around you. Permeating you. You begged for it to end.

He was not so kind.

No, He was not the kind type.

He killed half of every whole. And Loki - Loki had made you feel whole.

What were you now?

You were still a full person, but broken nonetheless. A ghost. Yes, you were a ghost of who you were before. You haunted your own body, desperate for it to stop. Stop aching, stop hurting, stop feeling - let you go, release you to the endlessness of whatever unexistence was, because any unknown it held was surely better than knowing Loki was gone.

You had lived five painfully long years without him. Your husband. The boy you’d known on Asgard, fallen in love with, married and loved and lived through the pain of losing. Twice. 

No, thrice. But the third you had to watch.

You had to watch everything. Leg pinned under the rubble on the Statesman, no more than entertainment for the creatures around you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, unwilling witness to-

You couldn’t bear to think of it.

Sure, you weren’t completely alone. You had your remaining friends: the ones that were not also ripped from you, destroyed for the sake of an asinine plan that made you want to scream and cry and unleash all your anger on the monster who caused it.

You never got the chance.

The others fought. You joined, but you never were close enough to attack The One You Wanted. You were wounded early on. And now He was nothing. No more than dust.

But you felt more despair than comfort.

When the portals had opened, you’d turned, tears pricking your eyes as you scanned them. Loki would be there, you were sure of it. He’d find you. He had to. They knew what he meant to you - they knew to bring him back, too. You pushed through oncoming allies, looking for him. But with every new face you saw only made your heart sink further.

He wasn’t there.

He’d never be there again.

That realization dragged your hope away with it. 

Now you’d made the preparations. Everything was laid out. You even left notes. Your friends would know it was nothing they’d done, because it wasn’t up to them. You didn’t blame anyone that was left. They hadn’t taken Loki from you, that Creature had. And carrying on without him? It was just all too much for you, now - you needed an escape.

But as soon as you closed the door of your room, intent on your next action, someone behind you spoke. With a jolt, you faced them.

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby charge you with crimes against the sacred timeline.”

You went agape. How did they get into your room? Officers of some sort, suddenly standing before you. A glowing orange door pulsated behind them.

This had to be a dream. Yes, you must be dreaming. Your mind was cooking up something bizarre in a last-ditch effort to pull you back to the land of the living. Not that it would matter. The gleaming sword on your bed held promise. You just had to reach it.

“What?!” Was all you could manage. One of the people moved forward, hand outstretched- Now this, this you could do. Life on Asgard trained you for combat. You grabbed them, leveraging your body weight to flip them over. But the other agent swung, hitting you with a baton-

Time stopped.

Or, slowed, to the point that you felt as though you were frozen in place, yet you listened as the one officer brushed themselves off, grumbling about Asgardians, while the one who hit you secured something around your neck. 

“Let’s get her back.”

As you were escorted through the door, you turned and growled in your throat, arm outstretched to grab your sword - but as soon as you were through the door, it closed. 

~~~

The next minutes - hours? - were a blur. You were escorted through a strange place you didn’t recognize - you figured it must be the TVA your captors spoke of, whatever that was - but before you could ask any proper questions, you were tossed into a room. And another room. And another.

In fact, you had been to so many places that were all the same drab beige, and had your clothes removed and replaced with a horrific jumpsuit, you weren’t sure where you were until at last you were taken to a long room, flanked with booths. Down at the end of the room sat someone who was clearly a judge. 

A trial. This was a trial.

So what in Odin’s name were you guilty of?

You were pushed onto a small podium, glaring up at your captor. You’d already tried to escape - but had been overpowered, the collar firmly around your neck offering no chance of liberation.

The woman before you, now clearly visible - or, part of her was, as most of her person was concealed behind the mountain of wood between you. 

She was well-dressed. Professional. Her hair drawn back, her gaze stern. She looked like a leader, and practically radiated power. 

But she was wrong. You were blameless. Why were you here?

“(Y/N) Lokiwife,” The judge spoke, gazing down her nose at you. “Or Leifdottir, if you prefer.”

Your glare didn’t waver.

She cleared her throat.

“You are charged with sequence violation seven-thirty forty-one. How do you plead?”

You sighed. “You must be mistaken. I have done nothing wrong.”

The judge tapped her pen against the paper below her.

“Are you guilty or not guilty?”

“Of a sequence violation, whatever that means? No. No, I am not. I was in my room, minding my own business, when your goons barged in and brought me here.” You clenched your jaw. 

The judge smiled - a forced, strained sort of smile, where her teeth remained hidden behind her lips. You matched her expression with one just the same.

“Those goons, as you call them, were tasked with bringing a criminal,” She pointed the pen at you, “To justice. How. Do you. Plead?”

“Not guilty.” You hissed.

“I highly doubt-”

She was cut off by a new individual running over, whispering into her ear. The judge tensed. You saw her brow furrow, her jaw clench. 

“Thank you.” Her voice was curt.

Silence hung over the courtroom as the other individual left. 

The judge shook her head. “I sentence you as not guilty.” She took her gavel, pounding it in a swift, final motion.

Your breath caught in your chest. “Not guilty?”

“Yes, that’s what I said. Not guilty. I suppose this was all more for formality, anyway;” Renslayer motioned to the trial room and straightened a stack of papers, “You’re merely assurance.”

“Assurance for what exactly?”

“A mission.”

You felt like screaming. Everything was so vague, so mysterious - couldn’t they just let you go? Or else kill you and get it over with?

“Fantastic. Glad to know I can help your cause.” You sneered.

The judge raised a brow, then looked past you. “You’d better be right about this, Mobius.”

“Not to worry, I can handle it from here.” 

A new voice sounded behind you. You whipped around to face it. 

“Woah, hey there.” A man walked toward you, his hands raised. Wearing a suit - much like those you had seen on Midgard, yet somehow different - his short hair streaked silver, a mustache over his crooked-smile lips. Mobius. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“What do you want with me?” You glared, not moving from your place.

“Not one to trust easily. I get it. Listen, I’ve got someone you’ll want to see. But you need to trust me now, okay?”

He held his hands out, palms up. You looked at them. Then back at his face. His brows were raised, he seemed hopeful - expectant. You sighed through your nose, and took a wary step toward him.

“That’s better.” He looked at the judge, pointing at her. “I owe you one, Ravonna. I’m telling you - irreplaceable help, you gave today. Irreplaceable!”

The judge rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips.

Mobius turned to you. “Shall we?”

~~

Your next journey was far more welcome. Mobius didn’t manhandle you, thank the Norns, though you did sense the eyes of surrounding agents on you. Agents, dressed in the same black armor as those who had fetched you. You stared ahead, avoiding their gaze.

“Where is this place?” Finally, you broke the silence.

“Where, not what?” Mobius answered, smirking.

“This is the TVA, whatever that means. But where is it?”

“You thinking of running away?”

You looked at him.

“Right. Of course you are.. Outside of space and time, if it matters.”

You raised a brow. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

Mobius exhaled through his lips, chuckling softly. “Ideally, yeah.” The two of you walked through a corridor, apparently intent on a destination you had no idea about.

“Well- Well why am I here?” You stopped in your tracks. Mobius turned to face you, hands in his pockets. You continued, “The judge ruled me not guilty. Said I was assurance - assurance for what?”

“A mission.” Mobius spoke carefully. You narrowed your eyes.

“What?” He asked. “You weren’t exactly busy.”

“Actually, I was in the middle of something.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was! I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be anywhere-” You stopped yourself. You felt heat rush to your eyes and nose, but forced yourself to swallow the knot in your throat. You couldn’t, wouldn’t break. Not here. Not in front of countless strangers.

You just wanted to go back to Loki, wherever he was. You didn’t care where.

Mobius watched you. “Come on, I think this will help.”

Giving him a look, you let your shoulders slump, then followed him. Felt your eyes go dull. When you reached a door flanked by two guards, which Mobius quickly dismissed, you straightened up.

Mobius turned to you. “Now, this is going to be a little weird, okay? But bear with me. Just, go with the process, laugh or cry or whatever you need. Got it?”

You stared at him. “I.. What are you even getting at? I told you, I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be anywhere. I don’t want to be alive, I don’t care if it’s here, or on Earth, or anywhere else, I do not want it-”

Mobius sighed, placed his hand on the small of your back, and urged you into the room, shutting the door behind you. You gasped at the motion and moved to stop the door - but it shut with a resounding thud. Tears betrayed you, streaming down your face. 

“Let me out!” You pounded your fist against the door, “I don’t want to be part of your sick game- Do you understand me? I have nothing to live for, nothing-”

“(Y/N)?” A quivering voice pulled you back to reality.

No, not just any voice.

That voice.

The voice you knew. The voice you missed.

You turned on the spot. Your body froze. There, before you, stood Loki.

“Loki?”

Loki rushed to you. You were frozen, staring up at him. Afraid to touch him. Afraid that if you dared to feel his embrace again he may disappear.

He looked familiar, but not the same as when you last saw him - thank the Norns for that.

No, he looked almost.. Younger? His hair was shorter, not so long nor so wavy as the tresses you remember playing with on the Statesman before He came.

And his clothes. The same as yours: a demeaning jumpsuit. They must’ve put him through all this, too.

What could he possibly be guilty of?

You looked at his face. Your vision, blurry, your body, shaking - you reached for him. He met you. His hand touched your face, cupping your cheek. You felt yourself sob without fully realizing, certainly not controlling it.

He was here. He was alive.

You broke. Melted into his touch, embracing him.

“My love.. Oh, my darling…” His arms enveloped you, his hand sliding to the back of your head, cradling it against his chest.

Your ear pressed to his body, you smiled past your tears, gripping his clothes as though he could disappear at any moment. But you could hear his heartbeat. You savored it, the rhythmic beat, which seemed to steady as you held him in turn. You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“L-Loki, you.. You were gone,” your voice cracked, “You... He took you from me.”

“I know.” Loki kissed the top of your head, “I know, I saw it all.”

“You - what?”

Loki pulled away, gazing into your eyes, though never letting you go. He swallowed. “I saw it. All of it. My entire life, as it was, apparently, meant to be. I know what you had to endure.”

Tears formed in your eyes again.

“My love, I am so sorry.”

“N-No, I..” You cupped his face, hands stroking his cheeks. One of his hands found yours, and grasped it for him to press a kiss to your knuckles. You smiled. “I have you. You’re back, you’re alive, you…” You huffed a soft laugh and leaned in to kiss him. His lips met yours, and you could feel a tear from his cheek slide onto yours. He broke the kiss, pressing your foreheads together.

“I love you. I missed you terribly. Darling, I can’t express how good it is to see you,” he let himself grin, another tear squeezing out onto his cheek at the movement. He steadied himself, watching you with adoration shining in his eyes.

“I-I missed you too.. Norns, I.. I thought they would kill me or something.. I wished for it.” You swallowed.

Loki’s expression stayed composed, but you saw fear flash in his eyes. Pain. “I heard.”

“I.. I’m sorry-”

“No. You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not your fault. Neither of us caused the pain we were put through, do you understand? And I am never leaving you again. Never.”

You stared into his eyes. Somehow, the surety with which he spoke seemed… Real.

He wasn’t leaving.

He’d never leave you again.

Silently, you nodded. “And I’ll never leave you.”

He smiled. “I know, my sweet. I know you never will. ”

You remained a moment, until the both of you calmed enough to part - now standing near each other, the tears ceasing. 

You wiped the back of your hand across your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re real,” you joked, weakly, “You’re here.”

Loki smiled, letting out a small chuckle. He gave you another small, loving kiss.

“I’m here.”

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XX

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XVII - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“I want you to understand that what we’re going to ask of you is entirely beyond the scope of duty and therefore completely voluntary. You are more than free to refuse participation, at any point, with absolutely no consequences.”

Deep within the Healing Halls best-kept medical secret, Eights quelled beneath the full might of the GAR’s highest and most lauded Generals. Yeah I’m sure whatever they ask I’m going to want to say no. Honestly, what kind of soldiers have they been working with?

“What can I do to help, sir? Sirs?”

“I know this might be shocking, but we have reason to believe the GAR is...compromised.”

“Sir?”

Eights thought furiously. This wasn’t about the healers who were hiding them, or the Jedi his battalion never received, or the decommissioning he had escaped. This was bigger.

The General Windu spoke calmly, “We suspect that you may have been trained or conditioned at some point without your knowledge to unquestioningly follow orders, orders that would usually be beyond what you would typically obey. With your permission, we’d like to try and activate that order in a restrained environment in order to gain more information, with the hope of finding a way to help the troops resist.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. You’re just going to give me an order and ask me...not to obey it?”

General Koon nodded (General Koon! General Koon and General Windu were talking to him at the same time!). “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it’s possible that the order will do more than that. The only way we believe this could possibly work” Koon glanced to the man at his side. “And we...do believe this threat is real, is if you suffer from some form of brainwashing. Activating it might cause irreparable brain damage. Activating it might damage or kill the parts of you that make you you. Even if it doesn’t- the ideal scenario is we find something- an intentionally designed tumor perhaps- and surgically remove it. And brain surgery also has its own risks.”

Eights swallowed around a lump in his throat. 

“And this is something that could be going on with...my entire batch?”

General Kenobi winced. “The entire GAR I’m afraid. Every clone.”

The General of the 212th! Commander Cody’s General was here! Talking to him! Telling him existentially terrifying ultra classified intel!

The trooper stared up from bed in disbelief. If anyone besides three of most respected generals in the entire GAR (not including Buir Ti) was telling him this he would accuse them of bantha crap fear-mongering, if not outright treason. Instead he was just...outraged.

“What would the order make me...us...do?”

Windu took a deep breath. “Attack us. Try and kill the Jedi.”

“I would never.” Eights straightened up even further. “We would never betray the Jedi- it’s- never. We were made for the Jedi and even if we weren’t- you’re the only ones who treat us with an ounce of respect.”

“No one is questioning your loyalty,” the kind Mon Cal healer (whose name he had never asked for fear of getting her in trouble if this ward was ever discovered) said, obviously trying to sooth him. She spoke with heart-breaking earnestness. “The fact that you would never choose to obey such a command just makes the possibility of something forcing you to do so that much more horrifying.”

“How would something like that even get in our heads? The longnecks designed us to serve the Jedi, why... I’m sorry Generals. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

“No need to apologize. You have every right to be angry about this intrusion, as well as any number of things,” General Kenobi reassured him, smiling sadly. “We don’t know to what extent the Kaminoans are involved with this plot. Not precisely.”

Eights nodded, clenching his one remaining fist. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need from me. I can’t let my brothers have something this big looming over them without any intel.” I’m not exactly front-lines material anymore anyway.

“Are you sure?” Mace Windu’s eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Eights stared right back.

“I am. When do we start?”

It didn’t take long to shave the soldier and connect a number of glowing vital readers to his skull. He was ushered into a chambered observation room with what appeared to be a sfaraday cage hastily built around it. 

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Bant (Master Eerin apparently, but she told him to call her Bant) said.

“I’m ready, sir.”

“Let’s start off small, see if we can learn anything without fully activating the order.”

General Kenobi took in a deep breath. He looked calm, but Jedi always did. The General took in another breath. Kriff, two deep breaths. That’s Jedi for freaking out, isn’t it? Right?

Fuck.

“Does Order 66 mean anything to you?” General Kenobi braced himself, staring intently at the trooper in his seat. 

Eights wracked his brain furiously. Sixty-Six...that was...

“It’s...a little familiar? Sorry sir, I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere but...I can’t recall.”

“That’s perfectly alright trooper, not to worry.”

A Twilek healer he didn’t recognize spoke into a micomphone from the other side of a transparisteel window. “His frontal lobe might be lighting up a little, but it’s nothing abnormal, and not enough to triangulate for anything intrusive.”

After several variations on the same question as well as a number of scans of different ‘levels,’ the questioning escalated to orders, as well an extremely uncomfortable mock fight that he would probably tell his grandchildren about, provided he survived today, and also was allowed to have grandchildren.

Still, Eights couldn’t quite recall ever learning an Order 66 and was starting to relax, thinking the whole thing was some sort of horrible separatist lie.

They left him alone for an uncertain amount of time before returning with-

“Quickdraw?!” Eights jumped up at the sight of his commanding officer arriving via hoverchair, nervously saluting with his left hand.”I didn’t know you were here!”

“Just got out of bacta. My spine’s not quite what it used to be after the blast,” the lieutenant responded wryly. “At ease, Eights.”

“Our apologies again for waking you prematurely,” General Koon said softly.

Quickdraw waved the General off. “I’m honored you did. For something as serious this- well I’d hardly forgive myself if I just slept through it.”

Quickdraw locked eyes with Eights. “I’m supposed to try giving you ‘the order’ now- General Kenobi suspects that as your superior officer, I might be authorized to trigger whatever the hell the longnecks put in our heads.”

Eights swallowed hard. “The longnecks, sir?”

“Who else?” Quickdraw asked in a tone drier than Jakku. He spun in the chair to face General Koon. “How are we doing this?”

After a brief discussion, the troopers ended up on opposite sides of a sound-proof transparisteel divider, an comm channel open between them. Eights plugged his ears and gave the order first. And giving Quickdraw an order was almost but not quite as weird as giving an order that would apparently make him try and kill Jedi.

Nothing happened and they swapped, this time with Quickdraw using a waxy covering to block his hearing.

His lieutenant stared at him straight through the clear divider and ordered him to execute Order 66. This time he finally remembered his training, and realized he was woefully outgunned. Oh well, he was a good soldier.

Eights stood up. The only visible change in his expression was a widening of his pupils. There was no malicious intent palpable in the force- he didn’t even look angry- just determined.

He lunged at the Jedi next to him, only to hit an invisible wall. He threw himself at the barrier desperately while the traitor backed out of the room and escaped. The wall finally dropped, but it was too late, he was locked in.

Sighing, he picked up the chair with his one good arm, slamming it repeatedly at the door frame. Good soldiers follow orders.

On the other side of the observation window, Quickdraw stumbled back horrified, reaching for his ears before hesitating. General Koon softly tapped his shoulder and indicated they should leave. 

“I’ve got a location.” Master Che said quietly as the lieutenant was ushered into an antechamber and the activated trooper continued to beat at the door. “It’s a small but clear patch lit up like the festival of lights- I don’t know why it didn’t turn up in scans but...I’m as confident as I can be. Worst case- it’s a small enough area that removing the grey matter shouldn’t...well it won’t kill him. It’s enough to go on for microscapel surgery.” General Koon nodded, then tilted forward, weight falling heavily in his palms on the counter before him.

Vokara rested a hand gently on his back “...I was hoping it wasn’t true as well.”

Master Koon flinched away. “I am sorry and glad to say you do not understand my feelings on the matter. I think...my apologies but I need some time to meditate.”

“Of course.”

Koon rushed out. After a moment Master Windu stepped in, radiating similar distress as Master Koon. Master Kenobi followed, looking grim but also happy. 

‘Oh I’m glad Koon isn’t around him right now,’ Healer Che thought wryly.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Obi-Wan sobered. 

“I’m sorry it’s just- I didn’t actually see the order get activated. Of course I believed it wasn’t a choice- and I’m obviously not glad that anyone’s will could be taken so easily-”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Mace offered quietly. “I can understand why seeing this would be something of a relief, all things considered.”

The Head Healer nodded in agreement before taking charge. “Kenobi, go in with Eerin and help her sedate him. I’ll prepare for surgery.”

“Wait- shouldn’t we try other permutations first? It’s possible that once activated, a clone might be able to order a superior officer-”

“And it’s also possible that if a lieutenant is activated, the entire army will turn,” Mace snapped. Obi-Wan bent his head, chastised. 

“Right. Yes. I’ll go- find Bant.”

An extremely long hour later, Master Che returned from surgery. Masters Mundi, Koth, and Yoda had left to and fulfill the other thousand and one duties of a council member not unravelling a Sith conspiracy at the heart of the Republic, while Master Aerdo had been dispatched to talk with Quickdraw as well as some of the other troopers in the hidden Medical bay. 

“It’s a chip,” Vokara said grimly. “Native biological material, but clearly a chip. Like you would find in a droid. Far more complex than any slave chip I’ve ever seen, and no explosive component. It would only turn up on a level five brain scan. I didn’t even think to run it before- it’s overly invasive and typically useless.”

The reduced meeting crumpled at the sight of the infinitesimally small object of control, carefully encased in a stasis slide and placed delicately on the conference table.

Proof of Obi-Wan’s future, a future that the group thought they already believed.

“We should get Master Nu,” Adi Gallia said quickly, “We’ll want our top researchers analyzing it as soon as possible.”

Koon nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

The Tholothian Master stood, “I’ll go at once- we should probably keep any mention of this off comms.”

As Master Gallia swept out of the room, Plo Koon wrenched his gaze from the stasis slide to face the healer. “Master Che, what is Eight’s status?”

“Unconscious and restrained, but he should wake up soon enough. It...might not be a bad idea to have another Jedi nearby when he does.”

Koon and Che left the room, taking the chip with them and conferring quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Master Windu exchanged a glance with Anakin. 

Finally Obi-Wan spoke, tentatively addressing Bant, “Could it be possible for someone...besides a clone to be chipped? If Palpatine had access to them as a child...”

Bant drew back, gaze flickering to Anakin. “I- we would have to study it more-”

Anakin interrupted, shifting in his seat. ”Master- what did I do?”

“It- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you anymore that the person who fired on me was Cody.”

Bant exchanged a glance with Mace, before clearing her throat with a soft gurgle. “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to talk this through.”

The Mon Cala Healer stood and exited rapidly. Windu exchanged a glance with Skywalker before he left. “Talk through everything, understood?” Anakin nodded.

The door shut, leaving Master and Padawan alone. “I feel like I’m missing more than two and a half days,” Obi-Wan muttered wryly. “I don’t remember you three having a non-verbal communication system consisting of eye-contact alone before.”

Anakin chuckled once then immediately grew somber, picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his robe. A thousand thoughts were swirling in his head, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I- did I hurt you? Is that- is that why you stabbed me, you thought you were defending-”

“I did what?!” Obi-Wan paled, jumping up from his seat.

Anakin winced. “It’s nothing, that’s actually not important. I’m healed anyway so forget I mentioned it-”

Obi-Wan moaned, stumbling backwards over the fallen chair. “Of force- when you were trying to save me- I had a blade. I cut you down-” He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground.

“Master!” Anakin lurched forwards, but the older Jedi scrambled back.

“I forgot my spray bottle in there,” Bant whispered outside the door. “Do you think it’s too late to go back for it?”

Mace peered subtly through the small window in the door. “Yes. They’re already on the ground. I think they’re both crying.”

“It’s been less than a minute!”

“Yes.”

“...We should go.”

“Yes.”

Unaware of their muffled audience, the two continued their conversation.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” Obi-Wan gasped, back hitting a wall. “I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

The young knight reared back, falling from a crouch to his knees, “Is this...about the Tuskens again?

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. “The Tuskens? What about Tuskens?”

“You don’t...remember?” The air grew cold and Anakin forced himself to continue, “What- what we talked about in the cave?”

“What we- I-” Obi-Wan thought furiously. “...Anakin. What did...what were you apologizing for in the cave? What- what did you think we were talking about?”

“Oh gods.” Anakin paled now, shuffling back.

“What are they doing now?” Bant asked the taller Master.

“They’re taking turns chasing each other back and forth on their hands and knees. They both look like they’re seconds away from passing out or throwing up.”

“I...is this a human thing?”

“No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know! Do you think this is how they usually talk to each other?”

“I think perhaps they don’t talk to each other, and that’s why they’re like this.”

“Right, right... I really want to hear what they’re saying.”

“Hm. I don’t.”

“Why are you also standing outside the door then?”

“I want to be ready to intervene if they start trying to kill each other.”

“FORCE”

“Quiet!”

“Sorry. Sorry. You think they fought then? In the...other timeline?”

“...It would explain Obi-Wan’s shatterpoint remnants better than anything else.”

“Not to mention the spice.”

“I thought we were politely ignoring the spice.”

“...and then I brought her back to the homestead for burial.” Anakin bowed his head, tears streaming against his will. “I thought...Master I know I can’t fix this but I’m sorry- I already stepped down from my position as General so I wouldn’t be in a position to kill anyone else- I need you to forgive me.”

“Oh Anakin.”

“What? What happened?” Bant asked urgently. 

The Master of the Order appeared unruffled in the force and human visible light, but the tips of his ears were heating up in infrared. She stood on her toes to see in.

“Oh- they’re hugging? Seriously? That’s what you’re embarrassed to see?”

“They’re clinging to each other like younglings. It’s undignified for a Jedi Master and Knight”

“Alright that’s it- we’re going. I really don’t think Anakin’s going to jump from crying and hugs to murder.”

Unaware of their newfound privacy, the two inside withdrew from their embrace, still sniffling slightly. 

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said in a shaky tone. “I swear I won’t let you down, I’m going to do better.”

“I know, my padawan, I know. I’m going to be there to help you this time, I’m not going to leave you alone with- well I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Anakin smiled wetly at Obi-Wan’s careful avoidance of Chancellor Palpatine’s supposed Sith alter ego, refocusing on Obi-Wan and making intense eye contact.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “It- it never happened.”

“Ori’vod, please. You- you mentioned younglings. I did something else unforgivable didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled but didn’t look up. “And i forgave you anyway. Even when I thought your apology was just a fantasy. But it wasn’t, it was real, and- and the people actually are unmurdered so...it’s not worth talking about it.”

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, gut roiling. “You...really think I might have a chip in me?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up. “I...don’t know. I didn’t even know that Cody had a chip in him.”

“You just...were suddenly betrayed by everyone.” 

“Not...everyone. Most who refused to fall in line were executed, of course, but there were a few senators who stood with the Jedi, secretly.” 

A new wave of cold terror passed over Anakin. “What happened with the other senators?”

“Like I said to the council earlier, from what I heard they cheered Palpatine on. Thunderous applause.”

“That’s not what I mean- Padme, Was Padme alright?”

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, shuddering.

“Anakin- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said in muffled voice. “I don’t want to deceive you but- things were dark. If I tell you everything now, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

Anakin winced. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not...evil. I just...I messed up, and I want to make things better.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled Anakin so they were seated next to each other in a mirror of the false peace a few days earlier. Anakin leaned into his Master’s side, feeling the cold retreat. “You’re not evil Anakin, but what you did to the Tusken village wasn’t exactly a small thing. I- look- Ad’ika-”

Obi-Wan hesitantly placed an arm around Anakin’s shoulder and the cold retreated a bit more.

“If the council accepts my plan, we’re going to have time together over the next few weeks, to talk more about...everything. We’re going to end the war- save everyone. I know the cave wasn’t what either of us thought it was, but it still meant the galaxy to me. I love you, no matter what...and that conversation, what you said. Well, it gave me the strength to go on, to do what I needed to.�� Obi-Wan froze. “Not my, um, self-inflected injuries- that’s- obviously that wasn’t your fault-”

“You thought you were hallucinating. I know.” Anakin smiled, feeling honestly amused at the absurdity situation for the first time. “I’m going to mock you for that for the rest of our lives, you know that, right?”

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan smiled.

A vise that had been clenched around Anakin’s heart since he broke down the door to their apartment finally relaxed. “You really weren’t trying to kill yourself,” he sighed happily.

“I was attempting to stay alive. Honestly concerned about dehydration. I wanted to stay in the daydream, but I knew I couldn’t. And part of that was because you gave me the strength to keep going. Sorry I did such a bad job honoring that but, well. You know. Thank you, Anakin. For saving me twice over.” Obi-Wan’s voice was utterly earnest, though it was a touch more embarrassed than he was used to after the single day of utter unrestraint. 

Anakin’s eyes welled up. “I’ve been- I hated that you would just leave like that, give up-”

“Never Anakin,” Obi-Wan vowed. “I will never give up on you, or this galaxy.”

He twisted so he could throw both arms around his padawan.

“I swear by everything I am I will keep going. It’s... in my nature but gods is it easier with you besides me.”

“Even though i’m a child murderer twice over and once removed?” Anakin joked weakly, clinging desperately to Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Too soon, Anakin. Too soon.”

Part XXI

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

50 or 33 with jmart for the smooch prompt list :mimhonk.emoji:

#33 - An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it, and #50 - A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. POR QUÉ NO LOS DOS!

thank you tem!!! :D I had a lot of fun with this one, and because of that it also got Long As Fuck so bear with me on that. Set in the safehouse also! Hope you enjoy ^_^

It’s been a very, very good day at the safehouse. The Lonely has been quiet, lurking almost entirely out of sight rather than clinging onto the both of them, and Martin’s been relaxed and open, happy in a way Jon hasn’t honestly seen him in months. The Eye has been quiet as well, and even Jon’s pain levels have been down today - no small miracle given the chilly weather - and it feels like a day for new beginnings, a day for truths.

So, “I missed you,” is what tumbles out over dinner, over beans and soup and tea.

Jon hears Martin’s breath catch before he sees it, before he looks up to see the stunned smile that takes over his face. “I missed you too,” he replies softly, and Jon pretends not to hear the crack in his voice where the unused muscle of emotion splits the air.

Jon holds his gaze for an admirable amount of time, but even he wavers. He’s never been a brave man, and he looks down at the table before speaking. “There were spiders, while you were gone,” Jon begins, tracing a finger along the grain of the table. “God, I really should have gotten more in the business of squishing them.”

“Yeah?” Martin offers, encouraging. The anecdote feels clumsy, foolish, but Martin is laying a hand across the table to show his patience, and Jon is grateful.

“I never quite could make myself do it though, I guess I just-” He trails off, starts a new thread of the story. “They always made me think of you, in a way. You always cared so much about all the little things. Always insisted on carrying them out. Dreadful things that still deserved kindness in your eyes.” Like me, he doesn’t add. “I always admired that about you. So I didn’t squish them as much.” He finishes clumsily, glancing up with a flash of his eyes before looking down at the table again to pick at the grain of the wood.

Martin blinks at him. Stares at him in silence for what Jon can only assume is an eternity, until he has to look up and make sure he’s still there. And then Martin stands, tea forgotten, maneuvers himself around the table, and darts in and presses his lips to Jon’s.

It only lasts for a moment - half a heartbeat of a touch - but it’s warm and vulnerable and a bit awkward and it sends Jon’s eyes flying wide open in shock.

Martin pulls back just as quickly as he had dived in, retreating so fast he bumps into the nearby counter, his eyes widening, and the first thing out of his mouth is “Oh, shit.”

Jon can’t blame him, he’s utterly dumbstruck himself. His head feels pleasantly fuzzy, but confusion swims up to trump every other emotion until the only thing he’s able to push out of his lungs is; “I- excuse me?”

Martin blinks, his panic floundering in confusion. “I- sorry, excuse you for what?”

Jon’s brows furrow together as he tries to piece his thoughts together. “You... don’t,” he says like it’s obvious, and then hesitates. “I-I mean, you- you said... you did, but not... so why-” Jon looks hopelessly out of his depth as he gestures, not making sense. “Why did you do that?”

Martin stares, the tips of his ears burning dark red. “I don’t what, Jon?”

Jon curls in on himself, shame bubbling to the surface. What has he gotten wrong? What has he missed? “I-in the Lonely. You said you loved me.”

Martin’s breath hitches at his own words repeated back at him - words he doesn’t even remember saying. The fog had been so intense, so much and yet so pointless all at once, it had been so hard to keep anything straight, to hold down any memory or emotion. He hardly remembers saying those words, but they draw a wobbly smile out of him anyways. He supposes it makes sense that he would say them, though. Not much could cut through the fog, but Jon did. Jon always did. He still does.

“Did I? I didn’t know I had it in me to share.”

Jon shakes his head, now looking frustrated. “But you didn’t.” He insists. “You don’t... that means you don’t anymore.” His expression stalls for a second, before something akin to horror blooms on his face, and he scrambles to his feet to face him. “Martin, if you think- God, if you think you somehow owe me this after all that, let me be abundantly cl-”

“No!! No, no.” Martin cuts in, sensing Jon’s building distress and moving away from the counter to rest a hand on his shoulder. “No,” he repeats, softer. He takes a deep breath and lets himself run his thumb over the fabric of Jon’s sweater. “I don’t think I owe you. Not in that way. Christ, of course not.”

Jon is silent for several long minutes, before his voice begins working again, and he stutters back into a sentence. “O-okay. Okay. Good.” He clears his throat. “Then why-? I-I-I thought-” He gathers up what brain power he has left to sort his thoughts. Something like hope tinges his voice, and Martin marvels at how deeply Jon seems to have resigned himself to this truth, while still being eager to save his life and run away with him all the way to Scotland. Love is a funny thing. When he speaks again, his voice is so, so quiet. “After the Unknowing, I thought I lost my chance. Thought you’d moved on. N-not that I would have blamed you, I just- but you-”

“Jon,” Martin says softly, ducking his head to catch his eyes. “I wasn’t quite myself in the Lonely. I didn’t mean that as an ending.” He breaks his gaze away, looks down at his own hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I was mourning something I thought I’d lost.”

“Oh,” The word escapes Jon’s lungs in a rush; several years worth of longing filling up his chest and squeezing his throat like smoke, making his eyes sting. “Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, no,” Martin shakes his head. “That’s over now.”

Jon presses a hand to his eyes, breathing, letting everything settle in.

“Well. That certainly makes me feel foolish.”

Martin laughs, a free, wonderful sound that fills the air with electricity and warms Jon down to his bones. He realizes he’s staring at him, watching how his shoulders move with adoration, watching the joy radiate from him with nothing short of beauty. A moment of insane courage passes through Jon, and he moves his hand to cover the one Martin still has resting on his shoulder.

He steps closer. “Do you want this then? The way that I do?” His voice is eager, and he’s afraid to breathe.

Martin’s expression absolutely melts, and he sways closer. He Saw Jon in the Lonely, in all his hopeless lovestruck worry, so he knows what he means. “Yes,” he answers. “More than anything. I don’t-” he makes a pained face, and looks down, prepares himself for the undressing that comes before the acceptance of love. “I don’t know how okay I am. Don’t know how much of me is still me after everything with Lukas and- and well, everything, but...”

“I know what you mean,” Jon assures him, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “I’m not even human anymore.” He exhales, in the tone of a joke fallen flat.

Martin squeezes his shoulder. “Exactly,” he murmurs. “But I still want to try.”

“Martin,” Jon exhales, his voice thick and his eyes wet. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

Martin tugs Jon’s hand from where it’s resting atop his to press a kiss to his knuckles, and Jon laughs, a quiet little sound, and then he’s moving, leaning back into Martin’s space; his face growing blurry as he gets up close and presses their lips together again. He misses the mark just a bit, the kiss landing a little too high on his mouth, but Martin leans up into it, rearranging their positions, and just like that it’s perfect. Not earth-shattering, not magical, just perfect, in the way that only imperfection can be. Martin lets himself sink into it.

It’s gentle, sweet, and it makes Martin’s head buzz with disbelief. He breaks away to breathe, for a moment, just to wrap his head around what’s happening, and then Jon is tugging him back in, more intentionally this time.

Jon kisses very thoroughly, Martin soon learns with amusement. He furrows his brow and crowds himself into Martin’s space, curling his hands in his shirt, and he moves his mouth in time with Martin’s like he has a purpose to follow, like he’s devoting himself to studying him; focusing on each touch with crystal clarity. He has a single-minded doggedness about the whole thing, and Martin eventually relaxes and just lets himself be kissed, following along with gentle touches and barely held-back smiles.

He raises a hand experimentally to run through his hair, and Jon kisses him deeper in response; open mouthed and wanting, tasting what he can, allowing himself to bite his lip gently. That takes the breath straight out of Martin’s lungs, and the bitten-off sound he makes apparently encourages Jon even more, as he breaks away and kisses him down across his jaw, under his chin, and down the side of his throat.

It’s frantic at first, a desperate attempt to map out as much of Martin as he can in the time he has, but the sense of urgency starts to bleed out of him, and he ends up kissing gentler and gentler the longer he lingers, until eventually Jon’s just nuzzling his nose into his skin and wrapping his arms around him for a hug. The sigh that escapes him makes Martin’s heart clench.

“I love you,” he mumbles into Martin’s shoulder, and later the weight of this will settle on their shoulders. Later they will have to sit down and figure this out, this mess of personalities and supernatural entanglement, this terrible future of fear laid out before them, and the path forward they will choose to carve out together. But for now they can sink into this embrace and breathe.

Martin doesn’t say the words back, he’s not quite there yet, but he doesn’t need to. It’s enough, it’s more than enough to just be here, for Martin to press his nose into Jon’s hair, and smile until his face aches from it.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Glad (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 9 added scene. Ethan invites Claire for a quiet night in after her talk with Elijah.

Warnings: None

A/N: It’s fluff time again. The chapter suffered from almost complete lack of things-that-people-do-when-they-are-in-a-relationship so I fixed it.

Are you awake?

Claire fell onto her bed, fully ready to fall asleep, when a soft sound of an incoming message reached her ears. Her phone was screen side down from when she tossed it onto the covers, restless from her conversation with Elijah. He seemed to forgive her, even though she didn’t feel like she had anything to apologize for – she didn’t do anything after all.

The sight of the text made the corners of her lips go up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she replied.

I am. Why, do you want to do some not so innocent texting in all that free time you have on your hands now?

Satisfied with her answer, she moved to grab herself a sweater when her phone lit up again. With a spark of enthusiasm, she peaked at his response.

Not tonight. Can you come over?

Her eyebrows knitted together, she felt the pleasant feeling dissipate, worry taking its place.

Is something wrong?

The answer came almost instantly.

Nothing of the sort. I just missed you.

Once again calm, she grinned wildly at her screen.

That’s adorable. I’m on my way.

The drive to his apartment seemed to drag on for forever. She knew that there was no real rush, but regardless of all that, commuting in the evening was somehow even more exhausting that it usually was.

Claire entered Ethan’s apartment building and was immediately approached by Henry. The old man always greeted her with a smile, sometimes a cookie when she got to Ethan’s place first and forgot her keys and was always up for gossiping. This time, he asked her to wait by his desk and made a call without saying anything else.

She got confused even more when she heard a very frantic voice on the other end of the call. Henry put the phone down and smiled at her.

“You’ll have to wait here for five minutes.”

“Seriously?” she giggled, leaning onto the counter. He nodded, making a show out of zipping his mouth shut when she asked what was going on. “Did Ethan ask you to keep me here?”

“… maybe.”

Before she could say anything else, the phone called again, and Henry nodded towards the elevators. Claire thanked him, shaking her head at the antics of her boyfriend and their friend, then headed upstairs.

Ethan was already waiting for her, door open and a strangely nervous hint of a smile on his face. He caught her hand with his as soon as she was close enough. And that was it. No hug, no kiss – just a tight hold on her hand.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” she asked gently, stepping into his private space slowly. He nodded, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you… going to let me in or are we staying out here for the night?”

“Very funny.” he scoffed, his shoulders falling a fraction upon recognizing her attempt at a joke. Ethan’s eyes softened the longer he looked at her, his hand traveling up and down her arm. At last, he took a step back. “After you.”

Claire looked at him suspiciously, looking inside as she walked in. Three steps in, she stopped, taking in the sight before her.

The living room wasn’t the way she remembered it to be. The couch was pushed back to the far end of the room and in the very middle stood a masterly crafted pillow fort. Fairly lights – so many strings that she lost count – were sparkling, their full effect not visible yet as the main lights were still on. All over the floor, there were pillows and the smell that was lingering in the air told her exactly what they’d be drinking in a moment.

“Ethan- what’s going on?��� Claire’s voice was a bit breathless as she turned to look at him. A faint blush climbed up his neck and onto his cheeks, an adorable smile staring back at her.

“You said you wanted a date, just me and you, in a pillow fort, with spiced wine.” He muttered, embracing her loosely. “So you could cuddle with me all night.”

Her eyes sparkled as tears gathered in them. She was tired beyond belief and couldn’t help it. With a soft moan, she hugged him, burying her face in his chest. His arms wrapped tighter around her immediately, pulling her closer.

“I also said ‘until you get sick of me’” she muttered, laughing slightly through her tears. Ethan shook his head, pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“Impossible.”

They changed into more comfortable clothes and gathered their things in the fort. Ethan placed his hands on her shoulders as he guided her to the middle of the room. Leaving her there, he walked over to the light switch.

The moment the lights went down, countless of fairy lights revealed their shine, bathing the room in a soft hue. A tiny gasp escaped her at the sight, her excitement almost bubbling over. Wordlessly, he walked back to her side, taking her hand and pulling her onto the floor of their fort. While he covered her with a blanker, she asked.

“Did you just happen to have that many lights lying around the house?”

“I… found myself with a lot of free time and a lot of money to spend. Now that I think about it, maybe I went a bit overboard.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just… amazing.” She shook her head, once again looking around the room.

His eyes never left hers, watching intensely as she fit right into the picture of his home. A heavy feeling reappeared in his chest, not for the first time that day. Being alone with his thoughts made him consider the events of the past couple of days and made him realize just how inconsiderate he was with his behavior.

“I’m sorry.” Ethan said, waiting for her gaze to meet his. Surprise flashed in her emerald irises, almost brighter than the lights. With a sigh, he took her hands into his. “I realized that your concern for me, the concern I so easily casted aside, was well-founded.” Her confusion melted, making way from understanding and vulnerability. “You’ve been nothing but supportive and I was acting off. You worry because you care – I know that.” Air caught in her lungs at his words, the edges of her face softening even further, radiating with emotions. “Because I care about you too. And I worry about you too.”

“Ethan, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You’ve been in this position two years ago, and instead of being considerate of how this is making you feel, I disregarded it all because of some ridiculous notions about what rules Bloom puts into place every time he decides to make a change. It’s unfair to you and you don’t deserve it.” raising her hands, he pressed a loving kiss to her palms, first right, then left, eyes never leaving her. “Forgive me, baby.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. They both were exhausted and needed sleep, the only thing keeping them awake being each other.

Wine was getting cold, both having sipped on it only a couple of times. Cold, but not entirely forgotten, as Claire reached for her cup again when Ethan began recounting a place he saw while looking for fairy lights that day.

“It would be perfect to take a stroll through when spring comes round.”

“Have I told you how adorable you are when you care like that?” she placed her almost empty cup on the ground, smirking gently.

“I think you need to remind me.” he grinned, pulling her closer with his arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

“You’re adorable.” She pecked his cheek, lingering there for a moment. “Utterly cute.” Stroking his cheekbone, she leaned even closer, eyes meeting his. “I get weak in the knees.”

“Good thing we’re sitting then.” He said before kissing her sweetly, enjoying the game they were playing. With slow movements, he guided them into a horizontal position, draping his arm over her middle and resting his head on her chest, right over her heart. “This moment is perfect.”

“It kind of is, huh?”

With the tips of his fingers, he traced patterns on her hip. “I’m glad you came here tonight.”

“I’m glad you asked me to come here.”

Ethan raised his head from her chest to look at her. “I’m so glad I have you.” Claire smiled, nuzzling her nose against his before guiding him back into her arms.

“I’m glad I have you too.”

Notes

I’m back on my Ethan fluffy bullshit like I said I would. PB isn’t going to give me relationship content like they should so I’m going to write it myself. Like always.

I feel like all Ethan does lately is apologize for his screw-ups. Rightfully so, since his choices (pun absolutely intended) are less than in character for him. Real Ethan could never, but if he did, he’d apologize (and definitely use less exclaimation points).

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

[oh-my-may]

Bokuto, Nishinoya, Oikawa and Terushima reacting to their s/o wearing their jersey

requested: hihi may i request headcannons of Bokuto, Noya, Oikawa and Terushima (seperate) where their s/o is wearing their volley jersey/jacket and their reaction of it please？ thank you! ♡

I am back from the dead lmao, can you believe? I know it’s hard to, but in a brilliant moment this week I suddenly had the urge to write something haikyuu related again soooo... this happened. Hope I didn’t forget how to write this stuff, it’s been a few weeks. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Also I don’t think I’ll be back with posting regularly again, because there’s still a shit ton of other things coming my way this month, but maybe afterwards it’ll be better again? Can’t promise you, but I really hope so, because I also can not WAIT for the second part of season 4!!

Bokuto Kotarou:

You really wanted to be on time today. Really really badly. You knew how important it was for your boyfriend, for his team. It was one of the most important matches of their career. They had spent the last months solely training and practicing for this day. And now here you were, missing almost all of it. Just because of the stupid rain, stupid traffic, stupid crowds.

You were soaking wet by the time you arrived at the big gym, droplets of water dripping all over the floor as you ran through the halls, following the echoing sounds of shouts and a ball bouncing off the floor.

You coughed wildly as you opened the squeaking door to the game hall, water still running down your wet hair, creating tiny puddles all over the floor, but you didn’t notice the critical looks from other people standinmg on the sidelines. As soon as you were blinded by the bright stadium lights, your eyes flew across the hall, trying to find the one individual you were here for. You expected Bokuto to stand somewhere on the field, maybe near the net, eager to punch a ball and spike it across it to score. But you were surprised to find him sitting on the bench, head drooping, his hair all over the place. You couldn’t even see his face, but his posture told you everything you needed to know about his current situation. Even though the team was winning, Bokuto didn’t feel like it at all.

Immediately you gulped and took off your jacket, trying to find a way through the crowd of people standing around. You raised your hand and called his name a couple of times, but it was Akaashi who noticed you first. His eyebrows perked up in surprise and heasked his coach to ask for a time out in the game. You quickly ran over to him, but he didn’t give you no time to speak. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. We already made up scenarios for what might happen if you don’t show up, but this is really good. And you even-” He step away and looks down at your body, where one of Bokuto’s jerseys was hanging off your shoulders. Usually you never wore his training clothes, at least not when he was around, but today felt special, as it was an important match. “Perfect.” Akaashi mumbles to himself before stepping away even further and shouting: “Bokuto.san! Look!”

The white-black head shoots up in an instant at the loud mention of his name and he looks around confused for a moment before his eyes find yours and you see a spark going off in his eyes, even from the distance between you. He jumps up in no time once he sees what you’re wearing and suddenly he’s bouncing around the coach, begging him to end the break because “My baby is here!! Coach do you see them?? I need to show them my best!! The yeven wear my jersey, coach!”

As soon as he gets on field he makes a point and then points at you. You laugh as his energy restores itself immediately after seeing you and let me tell you, when the match is over no one can hold him back from tackling you down and embracing you with the biggest, tightest and cuddliest hug you’ve ever gotten. Yes, your presence at games motivates him. But Akaashi suggests than from now on you should also wear the jersey, because there was something else in his game after he saw you wearing it.

In the end, you’ll find yourself wearing the jersey basically all the time you see Bokuto, because he asks you to and it gives him the biggest, happiest smile you’ve ever seen on him :))

Nishinoya Yuu:

You yawned once again as you checked the time on your phone, rolling your eyes after seeing how early exactly it was. Definitely not your time of the day. Especially not on a saturday.

You couldn’t stop a pout from forming on your lips when you got off the train and looked around, having to assert that it was raining a bit. So you sighed in defeat and searching around in the bag you were supposed to bring your boyfriend to practice, because he forgot it. You found his training jacket and declared it good enough to shield you from the rain until you arrived at the gym. Plus, it smelled like him, so you counted that at least one good thing this morning. It was also warmer than you expected.

Still, ittook you longer than usual to arrive at the boy-filled gym. You admired their motivation and enthusiasm this early in the morning, as you were able to hear their energized calls across the entire school campus. You sighed with a smile as you recognized what could only be the eager voice of Nishinoya, doing his all too familiar rolling thunder chant.

Just about some minutes later you arrived in the alley in front of the gym and found coach ukai leaning in the door frame, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his eyes closed until he heard your figure approaching. It took him exactly one second to realoze the situation and then he turned around to call for Noya, whom arrived in front of you in no time, pushing his unimpressed coach aside.

“Y/N~! You’re finally here! Thanks for brining my stuff! Now come in, I need to show you my new reiceive move, even Tsukishima thinks its cool!” You just nod and get in the warm hall, following his urgent gestures. He doesn’t even seem to notice what you’re wearing as he takes his bag from your bags. At least not until Hinata points it out.

“Noya-san! Your girlfriend/boyfriend is wearing youir jacket! That is so cooool!” he says with big eyes and immediately pays for it as he misses a ball and takes it right to the head.

Nishinoya looks up in question into Hinata’s direction, as though his brain was recreating what the younger boy just said to him. Then his gaze slowly moves torwards you and his eyes wander down to where his black training jacket still hung from your shoulders, now a bit wet from the rain.

Kiyoko was by your side in no time as you watched Noya’s whole embrace glow at your sight, the realization in his eyes growing bigger and bigger as his hands formed excited fists next to his happy face. “The jacket is kinda wet, Y/N. If you could take it off I’ll hang it somewhere and-”

“NO!” Nishinoya is at your side so fast you barely noticed how he moved, now putting his arms on your shoulders in a protective manner, already turning your body away from a very confused Kiyoko. “No, no, thank you Kiyoko, but they’re totally fine, we’re all good. It will have dried in no time! Especially with our bodies radiating so much heat.” And with those words he steps closer to you and embraces you in his warm arms, nuzzling his face into the fabric of his own jacket. “I’ve always been a fan of our uniform, but this kinda just makes it a hundred times better.” You can hear him mumbling and smile, as you press him even closer to you.

He asks you to stay and he definitely slays these new moves he just leanred simply because you’re there, looking all adorable in his training jacket. Please do not even think about taking it off, because Noya will not stop bragging to the rest of the boys, from now on until forever.

Oikawa Tooru:

It was normal that Tooru was usually a bit late to dates and other kinds of meetups. He was always quick to forget the world around him when he was at practice, so you were used to waiting for him. In the beginning of your relationship it got you frustrated quickly, but now you got used to it, because normally Oikawa made up for it with a lot of cuddles and great food.

But today was unusual. Tooru was always on time when you met up at his place after school or practice. Of course you showed up earlier and decided tro wait on the front porch so you could surprise and greet him when he would arrive. But his mother was quick to notice you sitting on the steps and welcomed you in and you found the way into his room on your own.

More minutes passed and you found yourself bored, but especially wondering where he was. You were about to text him another message when you saw that he had just read the messages and sent you a quick emoji to tell you he was on his way. You smiled, knowing that it would now take him at least another 20 minutes before he would show up because he now felt bad and got something at the grocery store for you.

So you got up again and looked around the all too familiar room, eventually ending up in front of his wardrobe and rummaging through it. A warm piece of clothing then fell in your hands almost naturally and you smiled down on it, not hesitating a single second to put it on.

Oikawa eventualy showed up a bit earlier than you expected him and you turned around in surprise not too long after as he rips open the door and practically collapses into your arms. “I’m so sorry Y/N I was already on the way when you texted me and-” He inhales and then stops abruptly, leaning back with a questioning look on his face. Realization hits him just a second laterand all the exhaustion leaves his face in the matter of a second and is replaced with a smug smile, though you can see the softness in his eyes. “Did you miss me this much, Y/N? You know, next time just visit me right at practice in the gym hall, wearing exactly this, and I’ll never be late to anything ever again.”

And he really isn’t. Instead, the rest of his team just groans displeased when you show up at practice because they know he will never shut up about it

Terushima Yuuji:

Going to games with the rest of the team and accompanying them to cheer them on was one of your most favorite things in the world, especially since you were in a relationship with Terushima. The boys always were so energized and eager to play, you wouldn’t wanna miss a single day.

But today was different. Some of the team members got sick on the bus ride to the game and now the energy of the team was a complete different one. You could just press yourself tighter against your boyfriend as the libero of the team got a bit green in the face and seemed to loose control over his gag reflex as he covered his face with a bag. That’s the least he could do, you think, but you can’t hold back from being disgusted either way. You were just hoping that whatever was getting around didn’t stick on you or Terushima, let alone enough members that they couldn’t play today.

However, something had to happen. Right before they arrived the bus took a sharp curve and the bag the person next to you in the bus was holding, wavered dangerously and you didn’t have enough time to get out of the way before its content spilled all over your jacket and you couldn’t help but cry out loud as your boyfriend started to laugh.

Misaki, the team’s manager, scolded him for it as you were busy complaining. She made him pay for his lack of empathy by handing you his bag with clothes for you to change as soon as you arrived. You took it with a dark look into his direction and took the first shirt that fell into your hands - his jersey.

When you found the group of yellow jackets again, no one seemed to take notice of you at first. Until Yuuji showed up next to you with the fattest smile on his face. “Almost mistook you for Misaki. Now you’re a real part of the team, Y/N!” Suddenly he starts jumping around all excited, pointing at you while calling all the others and sharing the news.

Anyways, for the rest of the day he will NOT stop staring at you. Can’t go 5 minutes on the field without his eyes wandering over to you, resulting in the team losing some points. At the same time, he feels better than ever to win this match and to be honest, their opponent has a hard time trying to catch all the balls flying their way.

[shoutogepi]

Playing “Strip Twister” with His Crush

with Bakugou Katsuki

genre : [ ✘ (NSFW!) ]  

hc prompt : how would he react while playing strip twister with you?

author’s note : i’m so sorry i abandoned my prompt party & left y’all hangin :’( i’ve been in a weird writing funk lately so i apologize if this is rough <3

obviously bakugou doesn’t know how he got roped into playing this.

at first he violently denied the possibility of playing. the second the word “strip” came out of kaminari’s mouth, bakugou bristled like a cat. his eyes did that wild, half-moon look as he shot up in anger, immediately growling out that he would not take part in such a game.

kirishima had instantly countered with a “you ashamed of your body bro?” and bakugou had nearly burst into flames. he was half a step toward the redhead when kaminari asked if you would be playing.

which turned out to be a very cutely hesitant “sure”.

and just like that, the explosive blonde had found himself grumbling, his arms crossed and positioned in an faux-uninterested stance as kaminari lists out the rules. not that he’s paying attention to him anyway. no, his vermillion eyes are trained on the side of your face.

god, you look so pretty in that skirt. the possibility of getting to peek underneath the garment makes the blood under his skin turn hot, and he tears his gaze away from you, turning to glare at kaminari. your eyes are on the electric boy currently explaining the perviest version of the rules bakugou has ever heard, and he hates that a cold trickle of jealousy oozes into his veins as he frowns at your undivided attention.

he chances another glance at you to find your eyes on his own body, and he hates it even more how he can’t look away from you. you’re magnetic, radiating like a goddess. you’re fierce in an unexpected kind of way, and it makes his throat dry and his heart thump like a stupid cartoon.

the game begins and everyone is standing eagerly at the corners of the mat. bakugou tried to be a respectable one person away from you but it was mina who was at your side, and the pink-haired girl immediately winked at bakugou and slipped to the other side of the mat. her absence left an awkward hole between the two of you, and bakugou stumbled forward dopily when kirishima nudged him aside.

“right foot red” is called first, and as if it were some unspoken rule, everyone blocked off all the spots near bakugou’s feet except for the one right next to yours.

it carries on like this when “left hand yellow” and “right hand green” are called. but eventually the group’s teamwork proves successful, and you swear as you slide off the mat with a groan— you’re the first one to strip.

bakugou’s heart leaps into his throat when your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, and his eyes dart across the newly exposed skin on your stomach.

he tries so hard to tear his gaze from your chest. and yet his red orbs are glued to your black satin bra— lace curling underneath and kissing the middle of your ribs with a tiny ribbon in the middle to tie it all together. what a wonderful present. oh, how he’d love to unwrap that— unwrap you.

the entire room erupts into laughter when bakugou’s hand slips, and he crashes face-first into the twister mat.

bakugou growls in anger and embarrassment, and he rips the shirt from his shoulders almost viciously, revealing his sculpted chest and rippling abs. he wonders if you’re looking at him— if you can’t take your eyes away from him.

he smirks when he feels the heat of your stare on his skin, roving over his physique like a wave caressing the shore.

sero tumbles next, and he takes off his pants. kirishima shreds his shirt, as does mina. denki somehow has all his clothes on. apparently it is not his first time playing.

it’s nearing the end of the current game, and only bakugou and you are still upright on the mat.

bakugou, ever the competitive one, refuses to give up. he bites his tongue as he watches you twist to reach the next spot, the smooth skin of your exposed side brushing against his jean-clad thigh. the action has a fucsia flush spreading across his cheeks, and he thanks god that you’re facing away from him so you can’t see his expression.

what the explosive blonde fails to realize is that, by staying in the game for this long, he’s inadvertently forcing you to strip even further.

it dawns on him when you finally sink onto the ground in defeat, a long whine sliding from your throat.

when you move to take off a sock, denki is quick to berate you, instantly exclaiming that socks have to stay on when playing twister— had you even listened to him explain the rules?

bakugou’s jaw drops when your thumbs reluctantly dip under the top of your skirt. the most uncomfortable, timid expression he’s ever seen is plastered to your face, and for a moment he wonders what your panties look like underneath that little skirt. he obviously wants to find out.

and yet he finds himself slapping your hands away from your waist. kaminari groans as the other three share a knowing smirk. but bakugou doesn’t see any of them extras anyway. his eyes are on you.

his breath is definitely stuck midway in his lungs as he unbuckles his belt, and he holds your gaze til his pants hit the floor around his ankles. he’s wearing black boxer-briefs, extremely thankful for his bland choice of underwear this morning.

for the rest of the night, bakugou keeps his eyes away from you. little do you know, it’s because he doesn’t want to chance popping a boner— there’s no way he could hide it in this situation and that would be straight up mortifying.

when the night is finally over, bakugou grumbles as he retires to his dorm. he blushes as he sits on his bed, letting his head fall into his hands. while tonight didn’t go as smoothly as he’d hoped, he did get to see your naked chest and feel your skin on his.

after he’s brushed his teeth— albeit a bit more viciously than usual— he’s laying back onto his sheets, closing his eyes and laying his palm against his ribs. his hand is right over the spot your own had grazed, and he gulps as he recalls how his skin had nearly sizzled under your touch.

he nearly toppled off the bed when a knock on the door disrupts him— his hand tearing away from his skin as he opens his eyes. he lets out a breath at the sight of the blank, dark ceiling. the image he had in his mind was much more enticing.

but the image he’s greeted with when he opens his door is even better.

you’re standing there looking at him, in a little pair of sleep shorts and a baggy t-shirt. you look like you’re ready for bed. and you look absolutely dreamy.

“i just wanted to say thank you,” you choke out, hands behind your back.

a blonde eyebrow rises above his red eyes. “what for, dopey?” on the inside he’s groaning at his response. why does he always have to be such a dick?

“for taking your pants off,” you say, and bakugou bites back a laugh as your eyes widen and you let out a shocked noise. “i mean— for doing that— for me.” 

bakugou chuckles and leans against the doorframe. he likes to tease you; he finds you especially cute when you’re flustered, and extra points if he’s the cause. “it’s fine, dumbass. don’t mention it.”

after sharing a stare with him you lean toward him, your tongue poking out to roll over your lip. he watches the pink muscle with sharp eyes, and you smirk.

“i’m glad i didn’t have to take my skirt off earlier in front of everyone,” you say, and bakugou’s gaze instantly jumps to yours again.

his throat dries, mouth opening slightly as his jaw slackens. where the hell are you going with this? he has an idea, but he can’t really believe you’d actually be going there.

“but i did kind of… want to take my skirt off for one person in particular.”

jesus christ. you are going there.

“really now,” bakugou tries to feign ignorance, even if his voice comes out sounding a little bit more gravely than usual. “and who could that person be?”

glancing over your shoulder both ways, your lips curl into a smirk as you look at him. “it’s a secret, do you mind if i tell you in private?”

bakugou pulls you inside his room in one easy swoop, hands already sliding down your hips to grab at your shorts. he’s frenzied, confidence oozing out of his pores with as much ease as nitroglycerin from his quirk. there’s a glint in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips as he shoves you down, your knees buckling round the corner of the mattress.

“how ‘bout you show me instead?”

this is a long ass hc omg. also i am aware this isn’t usually how hc’s are written but i can’t write them normally so this is what you get lol. once again sorry these are taking me so long <3

➥ masterlist

➥ prompt party masterlist 

[catxsnow]

BROTHERLY DISTURBANCES W.W

Request: can i request a wally and batsis!reader trying to make out in peace but keep getting interrupted by her brothers?

Warning: fluff, kissing, implied smut

A/N: I love Wally West with my whole heart okay. He deserves better and I hope he comes back in season four of YJ 😩

Word count: 2.2k

It was great that your boyfriend and your brothers got a long. Wally and Dick were best friends long before you even met him. Jason liked the speedster too - you were sure it was because he reminded him of Roy a little bit. Even Tim liked Wally - mostly because Bart was one of his best friends.

Least to say, they were all happy that it was Wally that you were dating, not some asshole. You were glad that you didn't have to go through that awkward stage of your brothers intimidatingly asking your boyfriend what he wanted with you. Wally already knew them all, they knew exactly what kind of person he was.

Dick the most. Their time together on the Young Justice team proved a friendship that would never end. Having him basically be part of the family with dating you was even better.

You and Wally started dating after his endless flirting with you. At first, it had just been a joke to piss Dick off, before he realized that he genuinely had feelings for you. He was trying to spend as much time with you as he could get - and as a speedster it seemed that he had all the time in the world.

It took you a long time to cave to his pleads of asking you on a date. The second you did, it was like your whole world changed. Your brothers got closer to you, Wally was more loving than ever, you were happier. Dating Wally made you a better sister, and a better person.

The downside of them all being friends, was that you were often interrupted by them. Dick was always stopping by your apartment to hang out with Wally or you. It was nice to see him, but there were times that you wanted to get into a classic sibling throw-down with him as well.

Today, was one of those days.

For the first time in a long time, you and Wally both were free of university classes and missions. You got the chance to laze around in your apartment and just enjoy the presence of one another. Wally always complained about how slowly the days passed, but you knew that these were his guilty pleasure days.

The smell of fresh cookies filled your apartment, upon Wally's request. Rain pattered against the window, filling the empty noise. Wally sat in the arm chair in your small living room with you on his lap. His hand grasped your thigh as he met your lips. His favourite part about days like these? Getting to kiss you as much as he wanted.

Wally dragged out his kisses for as long as he possible could. It was one of the few times he despised speed. You smiled into the kiss, wishing that you could spend every day like this. Hands tugging through Wally's messy hair, the heat of his body radiating to yours. Nothing could ruin this moment.

Except for Dick Grayson.

You regretted giving your brother a key to your apartment. Especially right now, when he barged in without knocking. You nearly jumped off of Wally's lap, startled from his sudden entrance. Your fear turned to disappointment very quickly, and it seemed like Wally's did too.

"Cookies," Dick grinned, grabbing one off the plate and shoving nearly the entire thing into his mouth. He finally noticed that you and Wally were sitting on the chair, and awkwardly smiled at your angered look. "Bad timing?" It didn't take being a detective to realize what you were previously doing.

"When do you ever have good timing?" You glared. Wally tapped your leg, gesturing for you to get off of his lap, to which you complied to. Your arms were crossed over your chest as the two friends dabbed it up. In all your time together, it seemed like Wally was never mad at Dick for something like this, always you.

"What're you doing here, Rob?" Wally asked, using Dick's old nickname. His mouth was full of a half eaten cookie and you were sure the plate was going to be gone within the hour. As much as you loved Wally, he was a lot to cook for.

"Was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by," Dick shrugged. He swung his arm over your shoulder and when you didn't return his hug, he tightened his grip and completely messed up your hair. Of course, both boys thought it was hilarious to see you so frustrated about a simple fix.

Your peaceful day had come to an end as Wally and Dick settled on the couch and chatted about everything and anything. Their friendship had come first for longer than you were dating Wally and longer than you were siblings with Dick. It was often times hard to compete with that and over the years, you had just accepted it.

It was hours that Dick had stayed over, him and Wally laughing and having fun like the good old days. You loved seeing them happy like this, but you also just wanted your alone time with Wally again. Finally, Dick had decided that he used up his time and that it was time to head back to his own home.

The second that Dick left, Wally sped over to you and latched onto your waist. His lips crashed onto yours, missing your taste just as much as you had missed his. At that moment, your bed - even the couch - seemed too far away. Wally settled with setting you up on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs.

You trapped him in his place, legs wrapped around his waist. Wally's hands rested below your shirt, gently rubbing the pads of his fingers on your skin. He pulled his lips away, just long enough to utter, "I love you."

"As much as you love my brother?" You teased. Wally playfully glared at you, you always teased him about how close he and Dick were. He grabbed the bottom of your thighs, carrying you to your bedroom. You laughed the whole way there, even more so as he literally threw you on the bed.

Wally didn't hesitate to join you. He hovered over you, legs entangled as he kissed you again. His hair tickled the underside of your chin as he trailed down your neck. Hands grasping at your shirt, but not wanting to pull away long enough to tug it off of you. Finally, he pulled away the material.

"Babe, I don't think I'll ever stop admiring you," Wally grinned. He took every chance he got to flirt with you, and you had to admit that you loved it. This time, you rolled your eyes at him, and pulled him back down to meet your lips. He didn't seem to complain about that either.

A sudden, familiar gush of wind made you freeze. You were well accustomed to Wally speeding in and out of a room, along with the mess of loose items that followed. However, with Wally hovering over you, there was only one other person that would be speeding in and out of your room at that speed.

"Please don't tell me..." You trailed off, already knowing the answer. Wally sighed, handing you back your shirt that he had just removed. The two of you straightened up your clothes before leaving your room and back into the kitchen.

Bart was raiding your fridge, food already shoved in his mouth while none other than Tim was sitting in your favourite chair.

"You look great in red (Y/N)!" Bart complimented while still chewing. You could feel Wally's glare, and before he could do anything to his relative, you grasped his hand. You hoped that he hadn't noticed you shirtless, but of course being a speedster he easily noticed everything in a room before you could blink.

"What do you want, Tim?" You asked, looking over at your younger brother. "Bart if you take that last slice of pizza I'll personally send you back to your timeline myself," you snapped. Bart wearily looked between the pizza in his hand and you before setting it back in the fridge and closing the door.

"Haven't seen Kon in a while, thought he might have come here," Tim explained. It wouldn't have been the first time one of your super friends came and crashed at your apartment for a couple nights. Tim looked up at Wally's ruffled hair and your shirt that was on inside-out. "Sorry for the bad timing." Just like Dick. 

"Kon isn't here," Wally answered the obvious.

"A simple text would have sufficed instead of showing up," You snapped. It seemed like everyone was making the effort to ruin your day with Wally. However, family was family and as much as you hated them you couldn't be annoyed for long. They all meant their best, even if it wasn't valuing you in the moment.

"Am I not allowed to come visit?" Tim asked. Of course he was. Just like Dick, you did enjoy Tim's visits to your home as well. Also like Dick, you weren't in the mood for anyone else to come by your home. The hours of the day were ticking down and you knew that by the next day, you weren't going to get the option of peace again for a while.

"Hi, Tim. Thanks for stopping by, great catching up. You too, Bart. Really great visit, missed you both, bye!" You sarcastically vote as you ushered both the men towards your front door. They tried to complain as you did so, but you had slammed the door right in their faces, followed by an obvious click of your lock.

"Really, babe?" Wally chuckled at you. "Just can't get enough of me today, huh?"

"Do you want me to invite them back in? Stay for dinner? Less time that you get to see me nak-"

"Nope!" Wally changed his attitude very quickly. He sped over to you, hoisting you up in his arms and raced back into your bedroom, this time closing and locking the door in case you had any more visitors. The tension between the two of you escalated dramatically throughout the day and it was killing you not to break it.

Wally's finger's danced along your skin. They roamed up your thighs, under your shirt, anywhere that he could reach. All day he had been waiting for his and all day he had been denied. It wasn't just you who was craving his kisses, he was craving yours as well. He needed this moment with you, otherwise he was sure he was going to explode.

Your kisses were no longer slow and tender, they were rushed, needy. Both of you were petrified that someone else was going to come along and ruin your moment. The perfect day that you had envisioned was no more, the last few hours of the night were fading just as you had dreaded.

You were right to fear as well. Wally barely had his belt undone when yet another knock came from your front door. His eyes filled with dread at the sound. "Think we can ignore them?" Wally asked, still kissing along your jaw. You didn't answer, just tilted his chin so you could kiss his lips.

However, the knock didn't stop. It got louder, and louder until you couldn't bare the sound of it anymore. Whoever it was, they had no patience in the slightest. "Fuck," You muttered. You grabbed the closest shirt on the floor and shoved it over your half naked body. Wally flopped against the bed, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

You whipped open your front door, fire in your eyes at getting interrupted once more. Just as you had dreaded - and expected - it was Jason at your door. His arms were crossed and he had a duffel bag over his shoulder, one that held his Red Hood suit.

"Patrol?" Jason asked. There were several times that he came to you asking if you wanted to scour the city with him. Most times, you wanted to. This time, you barely gave him notice.

"No," you deadpanned. The door was maybe a little too harshly slammed in his face. There was no way that you were going to waste the last bit of time with Wally to go out in this city to fight criminals. You wanted this night to yourself and you had even gone out of your way to tell Jason that you were taking the night off. He must have forgotten.

"Babe, I know I've said it before but you look so good in my clothes," Wally complimented as you walked back into your room. You hadn't noticed that it was his shirt that you picked up rather than your own. "Another one of your brothers?"

"Jason," you scowled.

"I thought I had a big family," Wally joked. He pulled you back into your bed so your legs straddled his thighs. Both hands were intertwined as he stared up at you. "How many more interruptions can we expect? My body can only handle so much more."

"Well, if you include Bruce, there's still a chance of five more," You shuddered at the thought. "I don't care what's happening out there. I'm not leaving this bed again. Even if it's Beyonce that comes at my door."

"Babe, I like the way you think."

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 30

So, after seeing this post, I wanted to write it. 

I have just realized that @hello-im-not-a-possum is the originator of this AU idea, so this is for them.

This is old and I decided to repurpose it for the “Partner” prompt

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Henry…honestly wasn’t sure what was going on.

He’d left the infirmary after getting the valve wheel and had been greeted by…a sight he hadn’t seen before. It was a Boris wearing pants, suspenders, a shirt, and a Bendy mask on the side of its head. And it was holding a dustpan.

Henry couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t sure where this Boris had come from and where it had gotten a shirt of all things. He was assuming this was Sammy. Mostly because of the dustpan and the mask, as well as the fact that this was where Sammy usually popped up.

“….Hi,” Henry said slowly. 

The Boris raised its dustpan menacingly. Henry took an instinctive step back.

“Hey! Wait!” He put his hands up, scrambling to find something to appease the irate music director.

This was a change, so maybe he could pick Sammy up as a companion. Maybe he could save him. But he had to act quickly. Sammy in this state wasn’t exactly the patient sort.

He held up a can of soup. “D-Do you want some soup?” He asked with a shaky smile. 

The Boris slowly lowered its dustpan. 

“You would offer me sustenance?” It asked with Sammy’s voice.

“Yeah, sure.” 

For a moment, Sammy stared at Henry. Then he dropped the dustpan and sunk to his knees. 

“My Lord,” he gasped, lowering his head. 

Henry grimaced, kneeling and rolling the soup can to his former friend. This was weird, but he could work with it. 

“Do you…want to come with me?” Henry asked slowly.

“I would follow you anywhere, my Lord,” Sammy said without a hint of sarcasm or insincerity.

“Okay. Cool.” Henry nodded and turned away. “Well, let’s get going.”

Sammy discarded his mask and followed without another word.

Henry hadn’t been entirely sure how they’d get from the Music Department to Boris’ safehouse, but luckily for him the Ink Demon still triggered to chase them. It seemed generally displeased that Sammy was with Henry now, and grew especially displeased when Sammy tried to attack it.

“Sammy, no! We gotta go!” Henry yelled as he dragged Sammy through the hallways. “We are not fighting it!”

“But I must protect you!” Sammy protested, waving his ax in the general direction of the quickly gaining Ink Demon.

“While I appreciate that, I’d rather have you alive!” Henry responded. “I’m not going to lose you again!”

Hearing this made Sammy abruptly stop swinging, which made it considerably easier to drag him. Henry only noticed how much Sammy’s tail was wagging once they had successfully escaped the Ink Demon.

“Sammy? Are you alright?” Henry asked.

Sammy didn’t respond, just staring ahead with a dreamy look while his tail vigorously wagged.

“My Lord values me,” he whispered to himself.

Henry couldn’t help but sigh. This was going to be a thing he would have to deal with, huh? At least Sammy was alright. And the tail wagging was pretty cute.

It was at that moment that the bacon soup can rolled into view and Boris poked his head around the corner.

Sammy jumped into action, getting in front of Henry and brandishing his ax.

“Speak your name and state your purpose!” He demanded.

Boris whimpered and moved away, ears drooping.

“Sammy, it’s alright, he’s a friend,” Henry said, getting between Sammy and Boris. “He’s going to help us.”

Sammy narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment before slowly lowering his ax.

“Very well,” he said. “Rejoice, hound, for my Lord has chosen to spare you.”

Boris looked over at Henry with an expression that radiated confusion.

“I know, he’s kind of weird.” Henry smiled apologetically and patted Boris’ head. “But he’s on our side this time.”

Boris nodded, although he still regarded Sammy warily on their way back to the safe-house.

.

It didn’t take long after they got to the safe-house for Sammy to become incredibly attached to Boris as well. The majority of this was because Boris had provided them both with bacon soup. It also helped Sammy to see Henry interacting positively with Boris. Seeing how much Henry cared about Boris convinced Sammy that the wolf was to be trusted. And more importantly, protected.

This meant when the time came for Alice to steal Boris away, Sammy fought her off tooth and nail. So when Henry woke up, he was greeted with two cartoon wolves, ready to continue helping him on his journey.

Even before that, though, Henry found himself incredibly glad to have Sammy around. Yes, the former music director tended to throw himself into dangerous situations with no regard for his own personal safety, but he was also incredibly helpful with dealing with the corrupted Butcher Gang members and Searchers.

And it was really nice to have someone else to talk to, even if Henry did still have to deal with Sammy’s prophet talk. He hadn’t realized the toll it had taken on him to have to go through all of this alone and almost completely silent.

“You know, I’m really glad you’re here, Sammy,” Henry remarked as they headed down to level 14.

They had finished with all of Alice’s errands except for the one on the Projectionist’s level and Henry wanted to express his appreciation now in case the Projectionist killed Sammy. Because Henry was almost certain Sammy would immediately try to fight the Projectionist.

Sammy blinked, clearly surprised by this comment, and quickly looked away. “I’m glad I can be of service to you, my Lord.”

“It’s not just ‘being of service’,” Henry insisted. “You’re a good ally to have and I’m glad me and Boris have you to help watch our backs.”

Sammy said nothing, although his tail began to vigorously wag.

Boris made a noise that might have been a laugh and hugged Sammy. The relationship between the two of them had improved even further since the safe-house, which made Henry happy to see. 

“I am…glad that you both enjoy my company,” Sammy said slowly, tail wagging even more vigorously at the hug. “…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Henry smiled and patted Sammy’s shoulder.

The elevator reached level 14 a minute later, and Henry and Sammy got out.

Henry approached the railing, scanning the ink flooded level below. If they were lucky, maybe they could avoid the Projectionist.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be in the cards.

“Ssh…There he is.” Alice’s voice came through the speakers as the Projectionist walked out of one of the doorways. “The Projectionist. Skulking in the darkness. You be sure to stay out of his light, if you don’t want trouble. Just bring me back the pieces I need.”

“Alright. We need to get the ink hearts and avoid him,” Henry whispered. “So don’t go fighting him, okay?” He looked over to make sure Sammy understood, only to see that Sammy was already jumping over the railing to go attack the Projectionist.

“Fuck!” Henry all but sprinted down the stairs to where Sammy was attempting to defeat the Projectionist.

Thankfully, they were able to take him out before Sammy was killed, although Henry did die at one point. But, as usual, he was resurrected at a Bendy statue.

“The monster has been defeated!” Sammy proclaimed proudly once the Projectionist fell.

For a moment, Henry just stood there, catching his breath. Then he grabbed Sammy by the shoulders and all but slammed him against the wall.

“M-My Lord?” Sammy’s eyes widened, taken aback by Henry’s sudden violent gesture. Henry had never behaved like this toward him before.

“Stop doing that!” Henry yelled.

“S-Stop doing what, my Lord?”

“Stop just running into danger like that!” Tears were welling up in Henry’s eyes.

“But I…I must protect you,” Sammy said.

“Then don’t try to die!” Henry’s grip on Sammy’s shoulders tightened slightly. “If you want to protect me then stay!” His voice dropped in volume as he began to quietly sob. “Please. I can’t lose you again, Sammy. Please.”

Sammy paused, unsure how to react. On one hand, he felt he needed to defend his Lord from whatever threat might arise, taking preemptive action if needed. On the other hand, it was clearly upsetting his Lord that he was putting himself in danger. But why did it matter? Sammy was but a humble servant of his Lord. His life was of no consequence.

Still, if his Lord wished for him to cease these actions, he should obey.

“Very well,” he nodded solemnly. “I will…Try not to behave so recklessly in the future.”

“Thank you,” Henry whispered, pulling Sammy into a partner. “I…I know you don’t think of yourself like this but…I consider you my friend. And my partner.”

Sammy’s tail began to vigorously wag once more, which got a laugh out of Henry.

“Alright.” Henry pulled back with a tearful smile. “Let’s, uh, let’s go get those ink hearts and get back to Alice so we can get out of here.”

Sammy’s tail abruptly stopped wagging and his ears drew back.

“I still don’t see why we must play her games,” he grumbled as he followed Henry into the labyrinth.

“I know I know.” Henry nodded as he scanned the corners for ink hearts. “But she controls the elevator.”

Not to mention, they needed to follow the script, even with this change.

Sammy grumbled under his breath, but said nothing more on the subject. Instead, he began to sniff the air. Before Henry could ask what he was doing, Sammy was off like a shot.

“Hey! Sammy! Where are you going?!” Henry scrambled after him.

It turned out Sammy could sniff out the ink hearts. Which was unexpected (even though Sammy was currently a canine), but not unwelcome, and ended up cutting the time Henry usually spent searching in half. This skill also helped them get out of the labyrinth since Henry hadn’t picked up the ink heart on the platform in his hurry to save Sammy.

As they grabbed the last ink heart and got back in the elevator, Henry once again thought about how happy he was to have Sammy there with him. He wouldn’t be alone this loop. Not even for a second.