#and i'm already over level 15

[lilacthebooklover]

why am i actually getting addicted to cookie run. this wasn't supposed to happen. send help.

[pentanguine]

I GOT COLDPLAY TICKETS

[rawliverandgoronspice]

would love to get a full, unwatchably wrangled ms paint levels of a first draft for my animatic before the end of winter. not sure how realistic that is given the amount of work I have on my plate, but I'm curious to having the whole thing to assess and see if that is even a coherent narrative, if I have left enough room for lore dumps (doubting it at the moment), stuff like this

[phantomrose96]

So my mom's birthday was this week and I flew down with Patches to visit her for a few days. Patches, while a verified hater of the airport, really loves my mom's place because there are so many more closets to explore and birds to watch and cobwebs to dust with her stupid little face.

My mom also goes to bed earlier than anyone I know, so for the evenings it was on me to monitor Patches' activity. And she's very good. She's 99% good. She's 1% "could use improvement" good and the 1%, which I'd forgotten about, is tomatoes.

Patches will leave most things alone. (And by "alone" I mean she'll absolutely bitch slap them onto the floor, but they will leave the ordeal with just as many or few surface punctures as they had before the encounter started.) Not tomatoes. Patches has it the fuck out for tomatoes.

So when I noticed her batting something around on the ground I realized that my mom had left a sole, roma tomato in the fruit basket on the counter and it was now experiencing the life cycle of a pingpong ball between Patches' paws.

I take it away from her, like a fucking evil woman, and now I'm like "okay actually, where do I hide this." See at home I have an anti-Patches cabinet, which is for things that have no business living in a cabinet but which WILL have business dying at Patches' hands if left accessible. And this is WEIRD to have such a cabinet but it's my own home.

I'm scanning my mother's cabinets going "is this weird here? can the tomato go in my mother's dish cabinet?" And I briefly consider sticking it in the fridge, as a normal location, but the audacity of altering this tomato's ripening process is an audacity I do not possess. So I go with cabinet. I go with the first eye-level cabinet, which is the coffee mug cabinet, which is perfect because the tomato will not be lost to cabinet purgatory there, since my mom opens it every morning for her coffee. I will simply tell her in the morning that the tomato is there.

Next morning. Seeing as my mother goes to bed at the butt-crack of dusk she ALSO gets up at the ass-crack of dawn. This means I trail down like 2 hours after her with my work laptop and Patches. This is also now her birthday. I'm sharing the sofa with her for a good 15 minutes when I think to myself I'd like some coffee, and I remember I put a tomato in the cabinet. I tell my mom as much. I put the tomato in her coffee mug cabinet.

And the look I get is one I can't really figure out on spot. But she says "Chrissy this is the best birthday present you could have given me" which is a very weird response to the already weird statement "Oh you probably saw, but I hid the tomato in the coffee mug cabinet because Patches has it out for tomatoes."

So I do not at all know how this makes for a good birthday gift. My mom tells me how a week or two ago, she came home unloading groceries. At the end of putting everything away she could not for the life of her find her phone. Absolutely nowhere. She pinged it from her iPad and it started singing. From the fridge. She opened her fridge. Her phone was in the fridge.

A couple days later she lost Ash's collar. Spent three days looking for it. Couldn't remember where she'd taken it off or what she did with it. Showed up in the grass when she remembered she took it off to let him play fetch in the lake.

And then this morning, her birthday morning, she came into the kitchen, made her pot of coffee, opened the cabinet to fetch her coffee mug, and found... tomato. Singular. Tomato in the cabinet. Tomato she had no memory of placing in a cabinet. Tomato she could not possibly fathom having a reason for being in the cabinet.

She was like Chrissy I cried. She was like this is it, time to send her to pasture. She's a harebrained old lady now and there is no coming back from this. She's the lady who accidentally puts tomatoes in the cabinet. Awake before God, standing in the kitchen, signing her life away over this tiny roma tomato. (Roma tomato with little cat vampire teeth marks in it).

I was like oh. No. I put it there. Because Patches was going to commit war crimes against it. I put it there because I did not stop to consider "Will finding a single tomato in the coffee mug cabinet somehow be the very specific thing that undoes my mother this morning?" I put it there out of careful consideration for the life of this tomato, and with no consideration for the extremely esoteric way that a tomato in the cabinet could be received like a horse head in the bed, Godfather style.

We made a salad with the tomato. Happy birthday Mom.

[alltimefail]

ATTENTION DEAD BOYS FANDOM:

We have some unfinished business and a case to solve: The Case of the Curious Cancellation! 💀🔎

Here are the ways you can help (be sure to read until the end).

I'm not sure how many people here on Tumblr are also over on DBDA Twitter, but there have been MANY developments in the last 24 hours and it's important for all of us to be on the same page if we're going to have a chance in hell of saving our show.

First and foremost, we need to get Dead Boy Detectives in the Netflix Top 10 again. This means running it as much as possible. Read about that below:

(SOURCE x)

As the graphic says, the goal is to have it running on a loop constantly, as much as you physically can. Be sure to have some level of volume on or else it won't count. If you're on Twitter be sure to post your rewatch (photos of your tv, commentary, etc.) with the hashtag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives !!!

Also, there's no better time to do this: the Tweet below brings up a great point! 👍

(SOURCE x)

Second, and easiest thing: KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE SHOW AND CREATING CONTENT ABOUT THE SHOW. Analysis, fics, fanart, shitposts, gif sets, memes, tik tok videos, so on - do not stop! Reblog other people's stuff and talk about it! Give fics kudos, comment, make fic rec lists and post that WIP or sketch! The most important thing to remember is to TAG YOUR POSTS AND CREATIONS. We need to trend!!! On Tumblr make sure you continue tagging your posts as you probably already are (look at my tags on this post if you need help, and remember not to use "DBD" on here because that is another fandom! We use DBDA here). On Twitter you want to use the hashtag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives for the rewatch and #SaveDeadBoyDetectives is a popular one, too. You can also use #DeadBoyDetectives. Hell, I usually use all three if I can! Hashtag every post you make about Dead Boys, no matter how annoying or "cringe" you may feel. Flood the fucking tag and do not stop.

Third, everyone needs to sign and keep circulating the petition. We've surpassed 5,000 signatures in a day which is fantastic, but we need more. Get everyone you know to sign it; tell them it takes no more than 15 seconds. Be annoying until they do it just to shut you up.

Fourth, request "Dead Boy Detectives Season 2" through Netflix's support website. It's a small thing but if we all do this a couple times a day it will get their attention. They really do vet these suggestions, and an influx of requests for a canceled show will raise eyebrows.

Lastly, if you decide to write Netflix (via email or a letter - their office address has been floating around) please remember to stay concise and professional. Don't curse at them, don't call names. State that you are disappointed with the cancellation of the show, maybe add an anecdote about what it meant to you, and I would even recommend attaching some articles that emphasize people's displeasure with the platform abandoning shows on a whim and Netflix's flippant attitude toward queer shows in particular. Dead Boy Detective Agency on Twitter has retweeted every article on this topic so far, you can find their page here.

You can also use graphics such as the ones below to affirm that the cancellation was unjust.

(Source 1, Source 2)

I know this feels like a lot: know your limits and take care of yourself. Whether you do every single one of these things or just a few of these things, every llittle bit helps!

Even in the worst case scenario where nothing changes, this gesture will mean so much to everyone who made this show. We owe it to the writers, cast, crew, and each other to TRY. We can all agree that this show deserves at least another season and if Netflix isn't going to do it, they need to be open to selling it to someone who will. We cannot keep allowing them to axe these queer and diverse shows with little regard for their customers and their employees, but also because it sets a harmful standard in the industry that is destroying television.

Let's crack this case and bring our agency back! I truly believe in this community!! 💜 We can do this!!

If there are any spelling errors or issues with links let me know! I did this on mobile because I want to mobilize this information as quickly as possible! I'll be adding on to this with new developments and can answer any questions you all might have. Lets save our show!

[postracehair]

fracture

max verstappen x reader | 3.5k

max breaks his wrist during the first week of the off-season.

cw: max breaks his arm, r is a bit rattled, some blood, a naked shower, intimacy, mentions of sex

a/n: c'mon. you know he'd be so annoying. good thing we love him. [i wrote this before the season ended and then...never posted it. so, here, have it before we start all this shit over again in a few weeks.]

__

You are not there when it happens.

You're asleep, actually, curled up on Max's couch with the cats while he enjoys the first week of the off-season. The celebrations have ended and there is a great deal of work to be done in the next few months, but everyone gets a little bit of respite.

Vacation will come after the holidays. That's the plan, anyway. The last few days have seen you in Monaco, mostly inside Max's place. Just spending time together, relaxing, watching movies, rumpling his sheets. Today, though, he and Danny decided to go on a world-class-athlete-level bike ride.

Which is why you're on the couch. They've been gone all day and you don't expect Max to get home until later. You ran errands, cleaned a little, and then took an afternoon nap.

As you rouse from it, you fumble for your phone to check the time. The screen lights up and you're greeted with --

35 texts. 4 missed calls.

"What the hell?" you mutter, sitting up and opening everything.

DR: sorry for the three calls don't freak out but i think max broke his arm

DR: he says you're probably napping but i'm going to document this for when you wake up

DR: he's fine but yeah that shit is fucked

DR: he says not to tell you he fell off his bike but he fell off his bike

DR: he braked for some animal in the road and went over his handlebars

DR: oh he also scraped his face but he's still pretty, don't worry

DR: his palms are fucked though which is why he's not texting you

DR: we're on the way to the hospital, btw

DR: you're gonna be so pissed when you wake up

It goes on like that. Daniel, to his credit, has given you a play-by-play of the whole situation. You've only been asleep for about an hour and based on the time stamps this started right after you fell asleep.

You get up as you read, grabbing your things and trying to find your shoes as you read. You need to -- you need to go and be wherever they are. You need to help. Heart racing, chest tight, you need to be near Max as soon as possible, even though Danny said he's okay. If this was you, Max would already be there. God, why did you take a nap?

According to the texts, they got to the hospital and he was seen immedietly, x-rayed, and bandaged up. Broken right wrist, Danny had said. He's pissed more than anything.

You're about to call him back when your phone rings in your hands.

"Danny," you say as soon as you accept it.

"Oh, thank fuck," Daniel exclaims. "I thought I was going to have to surprise you in person with the whole thing."

"I'm about to leave, just give me 15 minutes to get there--"

"No, no, no," he interrupts you. "He just got discharged. I'm bringing him home."

You stop in your tracks, one foot shoved halfway into your sneaker. "Really?"

"Yeah, we'll be there in like, 20 minutes?" You can hear Max saying something in the background. "He wants to talk to you," Danny sighs. "Mate, you'll see her soon--"

He's cut off and there's some muffled noises and then Max is saying your name.

"I'm fine," he says. "I only made him tell you so it wasn't a surprise when I came home."

"Max," you sigh, shoulders creeping away from your ears at the sound of his voice. "I'm so sorry, I was asleep!"

He laughs. You feel a bit weepy, which is both an overreaction and cathartic. "Good," he says. "The whole experience has been a pain in the ass."

"You're coming home now? Are you in pain?"

"Eh," he says, dragging out the sound. "They gave me something while they set it so I don't feel it much. Daniel says we'll be home soon. Oh, hold on --" There is some muttering, Danny's voice in the background. "Okay, I'm going to give you back. See you soon, liefje."

"Okay," you say softly.

"Be there in a flash!" Danny says brightly. "Seriously, don't worry."

You hang up and just stand in the hallway, at a loss. Something bad happened to Max and you weren't there. It feels wrong. Not that he's in poor hands with Danny -- quite the opposite. He's probably the only person aside from yourself that you'd want there for Max in a crisis. But, god. You wish you had been there.

The cats weave around your ankles as you pace, waiting for Danny to call or for the door to open or, anything at all to happen. Your mind is running a million miles a minute. Objectively, it's the best time for Max to break something. There isn't even a car for him to test right now and he had at least another week of time off before needing to go back to Milton Keynes. This might throw a wrench in your holiday plans but you couldn't care less about that. How long will he be in a cast? You assume he's in a cast. What kind of help will he need? Will you be enough to provide it? What if he --

Noises in the hall make you freeze and then you hear Danny's voice. You bolt to the door, unlatching the locks and pulling it open. You're greeted with the sight of the two of them -- Danny looking down at Max's keys in his hands, both of their backpacks on his back. They've both changed out of whatever ridiculous bike outfit they must have been wearing for the ride, but you devote your attention to your boyfriend.

You can see the bandages on Max's knees and forearms where he must have scraped himself up on the road. His wrist -- it's in a black cast that runs the length of his forearm. He cradles it to his chest in a sling they must have given him and then you make your way to his face. A few scratches along one cheek, hair a mess, mouth drawn into a frown. A frown that relaxes slightly when you meet his gaze. Your eyes well with tears.

"Max," you breathe. He steps in front of Danny and meets you in the doorway, his cast-free hand cupping your face through the bandages on his palm.

"I'm fine," he says. "You're looking at me like I'm in a coma."

"Sorry," you whisper. "I just --"

He tugs you to him gently, pressing your face into his neck and rubbing your back. You try to be careful of his arm as you breathe deep and will yourself not to actually lose it.

"Guys, can we at least go inside?" Danny asks.

Max huffs and you pull away. He drags his thumb under both of your eyes but doesn't comment on the dampness he finds there. "Inside, liefje."

Danny drops Max's stuff and passes along the documents from the hospital. He's quite the personality but he's all business when he needs to be. "Pain killers in his bag. Call me if you need anything, guys."

You step away from Max long enough to throw your arms around Danny. "Thank you," you whisper. "For looking after him." For calling. For bringing him back to me. For doing what I should have been there for.

He chuckles. "Alright," he says. "Max should break something more often."

Once Danny leaves, it's just the two of you. Max has settled on the couch, head leaning back into the cushions.

"Come sit with me," Max calls. "God, I forgot how much I hate hospitals."

His eyes are closed and he holds his arm gingerly. It's not the first time you've seen him injured -- you've been at his side in the medical tent before after watching him careen into a wall at 190mph. And yet, right now, you're still so upset.

You settle into the cushions on his left side and just watch him.

"I'm sorry," you say again. Max's eyes open. "I can't believe I was asleep when Danny called."

Max shakes his head. "What would you have done?"

"I could have come to get you and take you to the hospital, or just met you there, or--"

He puts his hand on your knee. "Come on," he says. "Don't be silly."

How do you explain it to him? How do you tell him that something happening to him feels like it happened to you? That not being there feels like a personal failing?

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He sighs and you pull his palm from your leg to hold it in your hands.

"It's stupid," he grimaces. "You don't need the details."

"Max."

He folds. Other people in his life have called this your superpower -- Max's will is iron clad. It is very difficult to get him to do something he does not want to do. But one word from you, one soft look, one gentle touch, and he often relents. It's like you can peel back that layer of him that has hardened out of necessity. To protect himself and his heart, to make sure he's taken seriously, to stop things from hurting.

It's like you remind him that it's okay to feel, even when it's hard.

"Daniel summed it up," he grumbles. "We were biking down a hill outside the city and something ran out into the road in front of me. I stopped. Or tried to, at least." He mimes squeezing the breaks, fingers curling in towards his bandaged palms. You stroke his unbroken wrist with your thumb.

"And you went over," you finish.

"And I went over. Got my knees, my forearms, my hands. My wrist, obviously. Just landed badly."

You reach for his face ever so gently, dragging the pad of your thumb over the shallow scrapes on his chin, his cheek. He allows it, knowing that you need to touch him to be sure he's okay. Whenever he has a crash on track you have trouble letting him out of your sight for hours. You just need to look at him, feel him warm and alive under your hands.

"I'm going to write a letter to your helmet manufacturer," you say, not entirely kidding. You slide your hand over his temple and into his hair. It's dirty, you can feel it, but you cradle his skull all the same. "Thank them."

He laughs once, amused with your sincerity. "I need to shower," he says. "But I can't get this wet." You finally direct your attention to his broken wrist, the entirety of his forearm and hand encased in the cast under the sling.

"Does it hurt?" you ask again. Max would tell anyone else off for badgering him so, but he keeps his face soft and reassures you.

"It's strange," he says. "I'm sure I'll feel it later."

"Did it hurt?" you whisper. "When you broke it?"

You know that Max has felt a great deal of pain in his life. His day job requires it -- physical, mental, emotional. He knows how to handle it and get over it. But he's also honest with you, always.

He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't nice," he confesses. "I knew right away."

You grimace. In the silence, you match your breaths to his and just sit together for a little while.

And then Max's stomach growls.

"Whoops," he says, grinning crookedly. Still an athlete, still a boy with a fast metabolism. You can't help but laugh.

"How about this," you begin, unfolding yourself from the couch and standing in front of him, hands on your hips. Max looks up at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen. "I order some food and then we get you showered while we wait for it. Let the scrapes breathe and keep your cast dry, then we eat and watch a movie and go to bed. Okay?"

"We get me showered?" He sounds skeptical.

"You think you can wash your hair on your own?"

He smirks. "I can do a lot with one hand."

You roll your eyes. "So you're turning down an opportunity to shower with me, is what I'm hearing."

Max gets himself off the couch and rests his palm on your hip. "No," he says softly. "I'm not that stupid."

He kisses you lightly and heads for the bathroom.

"I guess we can wrap it in a plastic bag, or something?" you call after him. It takes a few minutes of opening and closing cabinets for you to find one. You put in a delivery order and make your way to the bathroom. Max has already turned on the shower and you find him shirtless and peeling off his bandages in in front of the mirror.

"Let me do that." He doesn't put up much of a fight, not even wincing when the tape pull at his skin. You see the gashes on his forearm, the raw skin of his palms. "Arm, please." The plastic bag goes around his cast and you tie it at his elbow.

"You planning to wash my hair while wearing your clothes?" Max asks with a straight face.

You stare at him, trying to seem unimpressed. He breaks first, mouth pulling up at one corner before he shucks off his soft shorts and briefs in one go. He pecks you on the cheek and gets in the shower, still smirking at you through the glass door.

"Alright, alright," you mutter. "So dramatic."

You feel Max's eyes on you as you undress, leaving your clothes on a pile on the floor.

The shower is unnecessarily big but Max does not give you much space. The hot spray is at his back and he keeps his plastic bag-clad arm mostly out of the way.

"Feel good?" you ask. Max sighs but nods. You'll bet he's aching but hasn't admitted it. He turns to the side so you can catch some of the spray, too, fighting off the chill outside the warm water.

"I might fall asleep in here," he mutters.

"That'll be the painkillers, darling," you tell him. "C'mon, get your hair wet."

Max tips his head back. You readjust so that you can card your hands through it. You shampoo him gently, taking your time and massaging his scalp. It's a miracle he stays on his feet, but he does. You hum as you work and Max's breaths get deeper, slower.

"Head back," you say softly. He obeys. You do the same with some of your conditioner because you know he likes how it smells.

This shower feels more intimate than the countless hours you've spend in his bed, tangled up in one another. He's been inside you and yet this feels more vulnerable. He's totally ceding control, trusting you to take care of him. You're naked, slick bodies brushing, always touching whether it's your hands in his hair or Max's own fingers reaching for your skin just to feel.

One time, when you were sick, you couldn't muster the energy to take a shower. Max ran you a bath and washed your hair for you, talking all the while because you asked to hear his voice. It's obvious that you'd do the same for him, as you're doing now. It's just how you love each other -- all the way, all the time. When it's easy and when it's hard.

"Danny was right," Max says, words slurring half from bliss and half the fatigue of the day catching up to him. "I should break bones more often."

You finish rinsing him and just stand there in the spray for a few moments.

"Please, no," you groan, brushing wet strands back from his forehead. "If you want me to wash your hair I will, Max. You don't need to break anything."

His eyes flutter open and find yours. He smiles lazily and you turn off the shower.

"If you say so," he says. "Can we take this off, now?"

Bag removed, skin patted dry, comifes on. The food comes when you're settling Max on the couch with a pillow for his arm. In all likelihood he'll manage a few bites of take out and fall asleep 15 minutes into the movie. But he needs the rest, you think. And besides, he'll have you to watch over him.

__

It becomes clear remarkably quickly that Max is an awful patient. You sort of knew this -- he's been sick a few times when you're around, but you figured that was just man-disease. Whining, refusing to sit still. This is 10x worse. He won't let you do anything for him until he's proven that he can't do it himself. You consider locking him in your bedroom to keep him from trying to do things he shouldn't do.

Max just wasn't made to sit still.

But you can empathize -- it's frustrating to not be able to do any of the things he really likes to do. Drive, use his sim, even play regular video games. It's a lot of movies and long walks and leg days with his trainer.

And then there's the way he just won't ask for help. That's a Max Verstappen original and you know it gets worse when he's frustrated. You do it too -- everyone does. But Max wants to do everything himself, wants to prove that he can.

You try to sit back and let him work it out. About a week after he comes home with his arm in a cast, he calls your name. You're in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge and wondering if you should order more groceries or just go to the shops yourself.

"You okay?" you call back. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom,"he shouts.

Ah, you think. Here we go.

He hasn't shaved yet. You've always loved when he keeps his facial hair a little longer. You love the feel of it on your skin and how it lightens along with his hair when you're on holiday somewhere nice. It's more likely that he keep it long in the off-season. Hot races are a nightmare with a beard, he's said. It itches like mad.

"Coming," you call.

Sure enough, you find him in front of the sink, razor in hand and frown firmly in place. He makes eye contact with you in the mirror and even though you can feel his annoyance from here, the set of his jaw softens.

"Do you think you could help me shave?" he asks. No lead up, no hem and haw.

"Of course, Max."

You quickly work out that sitting on the counter next to the sink while he stands between your knees works best. His broken wrist hangs at his side, the other hand resting on the counter next to your leg.

You lather him up, carefully applying the white foam of his shaving cream on his cheeks, his chin, his neck. He's got a fancy razor, one that will probably make it hard to cut him. Still, you feel the way he's basically handed you a blade and asked you to use it on him. In so many ways it's one of the most intimate things you've ever done. Even more than the showers you've had this week, just chatting and washing his hair.

"I'll be careful," you say softly.

"I know." He tilts his chin up, showing you his neck. "Go on, then."

It's quiet work. You're focusing hard and Max seems content to allow you. Stroke after stroke, rinsing the razor in the sink. You keep one hand at the base of this throat as the other works, gliding it over his skin. Cheeks, jaw, upper lip. Chin, neck.

"I like your beard, you know," you say when you're almost done. He waits until you're rinsing the razor again to reply.

"I do," he says, smirking. "You aren't quiet about it."

The last patch comes off as easily as the rest and you grab a damp towel to clean the rest of the shaving cream. Max appears to have relaxed enough to become pliant, leaning into your touch as you finish. He lets you rub moisturizer into his cheeks, eyes fluttering closed. His hand ends up on your leg, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh.

"Cheeky," you mutter. He smiles, boyish and easy. You take your time, pleased that he's letting you, but also because you could touch him forever. "Schatje," you whisper, trying to make it sound like it does from his lips. "All done."

Max doesn't move. You frame his face with your hands and lean in until your lips touch. You feel his smile against yours, but he dutifully tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His freshly shaved skin is so soft. You've kissed thousands of times by now, but you can never get enough of him. The way he responds to your every move, meeting your pressure with some of his own. Your tongue with his, swallowing your moans and giving you his own like a gift.

It's Max who pulls away, dragging his lips over your cheek.

"Dankje," he whispers. It means more than that, you know. From Max, it means thank you for dealing with me, for taking care of me, for loving me.

He doesn't think any of that is easy for you. But he's wrong. It's the easiest thing in the world.

[abby-howard]

You mentioned deadlifting to prevent wrist and back pain/injury when drawing👀 I was wondering if you could share your workout routine if you haven’t already?

Definitely!! I love talkin about it haha. And I'll preface that this is just what I do, but if you want a professional's advice, I've heard good things about the book Draw Stronger by Kriota Willberg.

Tony and I usually work out 5/6 days a week, three days of lifting and two or three days of cardio, with at least one rest day a week. I always make sure to do a cardio warm up before lifting, between 15-30 minutes of either the stationary bike or rowing machine. That's what I have available, you can also run or do jump rope or whatever gets you goin'! Sometimes when it's a just-cardio day we go for long walks and talk about work. Good stuff gets done on those walks 👍

Our lifting routine is arm day, leg day, shoulder day, and we usually do 5x5 sets of everything-- so five sets of five reps per workout.

I sprinkle in farmer's walks really often, which are the best for wrist strength!! Especially if deadlifts are too intimidating (deadlifts are super good for your grip strength and back, but can be a bit scary because it's usually a high weight.) You just hold a weight in one hand, pretty much the highest weight you can hold while keeping your shoulders level, and walk in figure 8's (for balance) until your arm gives out. Then switch arms. Any time my hand starts to feel iffy, I do more farmer's walks and it helps!

More specifics under the cut:

On arm days we do mostly bench press and bent-over dumbbell rows, sometimes with abs worked in (I like to do windshield wipers or whatever it's called, where I hold the bar like I'm doing a bench press then bring my legs up on either side until my abs give out.)

For leg days, we do barbell squat and deadlifts. It's also fun to do the slam balls as part of leg day >:] Where you pick up a heavy ball and throw it down and scoop it up in a squatlike motion. It's a fun one!

There's ALSO a time-efficient leg workout I do when we're on deadlines where you do three minutes of wall sits in total, and can take as many breaks as you need, but for every break you do ten bodyweight squats. It usually leaves me feeling like jello.

Shoulder days are focused on lat pull-downs for me and pull-ups for Tony (I can only do pull-ups with a counterweight ToT), then shoulder press (where you sit up and lift a weight over your head.) It's good to pair opposite motions like pushing/pulling! I think we also tend to do bicep curls on these days? They're a grab-bag of whatever extra stuff we want to do.

This schedule is not super rigorous, but is enough that I push myself to do something almost every day while usually not being so exhausted that it cuts into my work. It's the kind of thing that I can keep up for the rest of my life, which is what I'm interested in! Maintaining a routine to protect my joints and mobility for as long as I can ✌️

I used to see working out and the gym in general as something I was punishing myself with, and that meant it was a miserable part of my day and working myself up to it was a mentally exhausting task. But Tony has been really helpful in shifting the way I view working out as something more like regular maintenance, and of course it helps that I found something I could work towards getting better at, which is strength training!

So while I recommend that artists work in some arm strength exercises, I do feel it's about finding something that feels like a part of your routine rather than something you dread doing every day.

[makeitmingi]

Everything I Could Ever Wish For!

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Cute, Fluff

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Mom!Reader, Dad!Mingi, Son (Song Jooyun), Uncle!Ateez

Summary: It's Mingi's birthday! Even though Mingi acts indifferent about his birthday, you know he secretly loves it when you celebrate it. So with your son and the rest of Ateez, you plan the perfect birthday celebration to show Mingi just how much you appreciate and love him.

Word count: 5.6K

A/N: Happy birthday Mingles, the loml <3

Did Mingi really want to be awake at such an early hour on his birthday? Not really. He would much rather be curled up beside you in your shared bed. It was so hard for him to leave you this morning when he had to get up to get ready.

"Appa...?" His 4 year old son, Jooyun, stood at the door of his room, rubbing his eye as he held his Tyudeongi toy close to his body.

"Hey, buddy." Mingi smiled softly, bending down so he could be on a closer eye level to the sleeping child. Jooyun immediately wrapped his arms around his father's neck.

"Where you going..?" The child asked with a yawn.

"I'm going to work for a little. But I'll be back soon. In the mean time, keep mama company?" He requested.

"Mmm." Jooyun nodded. Mingi chuckled and kissed Jooyun's cheek before bringing him to your room. He carefully laid Jooyun down beside you.

"Go back to sleep, buddy." Mingi whispered, patting Jooyun's back to soothe him.

Now, Mingi REALLY didn't want to leave. You, your son and your comfy bed, that was perfect. But knowing that ATINY were waiting on him, Mingi forced himself to leave. After a lot of begging, the staff already allowed Mingi to do his birthday live at 10 am instead of the usual 2-3pm that the members do their birthday lives.

And yes, Jooyun was in love with Tyudeongi and no, Mingi was not jealous or bitter. Besides, you hug a Ddeongbyeoli to sleep and Mingi's only ever complained about it twice.

"Good morning." Mingi bowed to the manager that was waiting for him in the van.

"Happy birthday, Mingi ah." The manager wished, smiling at the taller male through the mirror. Mingi smiled gratefully as he slumped back in his seat.

"Too early?"

"Hyung, if you had to leave the love of your life and your son in your warm comfy bed on your birthday, you would be upset too." Mingi scoffed. His manager laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Happy birthday, Mingi sshi." All the staff were greeting him when he arrived at KQ.

"Thank you." Mingi bowed respectfully. He sat in the chair, waiting to do his hair and make up for the livestream.

"None of the members are even here this early." Mingi sighed as he looked at his manager in the mirror. He chuckled at Mingi's kid-like whining and placed a coffee and muffin down on the table for him to eat as breakfast.

"I think only Yeosang and Wooyoung are coming in for dance workshop later." His manager informed, scrolling on his phone. Mingi took his phone out and took a selfie.

'I wish I was still in bed with you and Jooyun :( - Mingi'

He sent the pouting photo of himself to you. Seeing as to how you haven't opened the message, he guessed you were either still asleep or busy with Jooyun.

"Okay, 15 minutes, Mingi ah." His manager called. After his hair and make up, Mingi went to get changed.

"Woah, look at all the ATINY in the waiting room." Mingi said, looking over the director's shoulder.

"Of course, it's Mingi's birthday." The director laughed, making Mingi jokingly scoff. He checked his appearance one more time before sitting in the chair to get ready.

"Wow, you guys prepared a lot." Mingi looked around at the backdrop and all the props that was used to decorate the area. This year, his birthday merch was a Fix On hoodie that he designed himself. Taking another sip of his coffee, Mingi stretched his arms over his head and finally took a seat.

"Do I look okay? Can you see the hoodie properly?" Mingi asked the staff member, who look through the streaming camera.

"Looks good, Mingi sshi." She nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Mingi smiled in satisfaction, leaning back in his seat and sending you a final text.

'Going to start the stream soon, baby. Watch it if you have time. After this, I'm coming home to you. - Mingi'

"3, 2, 1!" The staff counted down and the room went quiet as Mingi smiled for the camera.

"Good morning, ATINY~" He waved. Checking the tablet beside him, he was touched at how many fans turned up so early for him. That made waking up worth it.

The stream went on like any other birthday stream, singing a birthday song, blowing out the candles and cutting the cake, then hearing messages and voice notes from the members.

"You can't wait for the hoodie? I can't wait to see all of you get it and wear it. Please post it so I can see." He read the comments. Mingi avoided questions that directly asked about you, not that he was ashamed or anything, he just respected your want for privacy.

"I don't know what I plan to do for the rest of the day. Maybe we'll go for dinner...?" He shrugged.

"We still have some time before the stream ends so I'll unwrap presents and answer more questions." Mingi smiled as the staff brought over the presents.

"Let's see. We'll start with this-"

"Appa!" Mingi's head shot up and he blinked at the sudden shout. It sounded a lot like Jooyun.

"Hold on, ATINY." Mingi stood up to look over the staff members and set up. Yunho was standing there with a grin, dressed in plain clothes as he held Jooyun's hand. The two of them waved to Mingi.

"Yunho just appeared with Jooyun." Mingi informed.

"Woah, the comments are going crazy." Mingi noted at the fast moving comments, all the fans wanting to see Jooyun.

"Come here. It's okay." Mingi waved the two over, unable to hide his smile. It was his best friend and his son, of course he was happy. Yunho came over, carefully leading Jooyun over the wires. Jooyun appeared on screen, his height just tall enough to let his eyes able to peek over the table.

"Aigo. There we go, you can see better like this." Mingi lifted Jooyun onto his lap. Jooyun still hugged his Tyudeongi close to his body, looking around in confusion.

"Hello, ATINY~ Did you all wish Princess Mingki a happy birthday?" Yunho bowed and waved with a friendly smile.

"Say hello, buddy." Mingi whispered. Jooyun turned his head to scan the room then looked up at his father.

"Hello to who?" He asked. Yunho and Mingi couldn't help but laugh.

"The fans are watching through the camera." Yunho explained, reaching out of ruffle Jooyun's hair. Jooyun still looked a little lost but followed his uncle's instructions, waving and bowing his head.

"Good boy." Mingi pinched Jooyun's cheek. The staff pushed a small chair for Yunho to sit.

It wasn't long before Mingi and Yunho bid goodbye to the fans. They were disappointed but they already overran their planned time with Yunho and Jooyun appearing. With waves and goodbyes, the stream was turned off.

"Happy birthday! Were you sur... prised?" Jooyun asked Mingi.

"Yeah, I was. But buddy, are you here on your own? Where's mama?" Mingi carried Jooyun out of the filming area as the staff were trying to pack up. Jooyun shrugged and turned to Yunho.

"(y/n) knew you were streaming so she texted me. She was called in for a work emergency so she dropped Jooyun off." Yunho explained.

"Oh..." Mingi nodded, checking his phone. You hadn't even texted him.

Mingi couldn't really complain. There were multiple times whereby he had to choose work over you, Jooyun and special dates. And you've never once made him feel guilty about it.

"Shall we grab brunch?" Yunho suggested, seeing how Mingi tried his best to hide his disappointment.

"Yes! Yes!" Jooyun jumped up and down excitedly. The plan was to go home but if you weren't there, Mingi might as well go for brunch.

"Okay but you're paying." Mingi chuckled. Yunho saluted and went to wait with Jooyun while Mingi changed out of his prepared clothes and wiped off the make up. Once he was in plain clothes, Mingi gratefully bowed to all the staff that were there for coming early to help him with the stream.

"Have a nice birthday, Mingi sshi." They all waved and bowed. Before stepping out of the room, Mingi sent you another text and tucked his phone into his pocket.

"Let's go, you two." Mingi called out to his best friend and son, who were busy making funny faces to take selfies.

"There we go." Mingi fastened Jooyun to his booster seat. He sat in the back with him while Yunho sat in the passenger seat.

RINGGGGG

"Hey, beautiful." Mingi answered, leaning back in his seat. He was glad that you called. Some sort of worry stirred within him after you hadn't replied to any of his texts.

"Hey, love. Sorry, I just dropped Jooyun off without any warning. It's... hectic." The guilt, regret and sadness in your voice was enough to tell Mingi that you were already making yourself feel bad.

"No, don't apologise, baby. I'm not angry. He had a great time with Yunho and the staff." Mingi chuckled.

"I'm glad to hear that... Ugh, I've got to go, I'll talk to you later." You seemed rushed and hung up before he could even reply. Mingi pursed his lips, he knew it wasn't your fault but he still felt a sinking in his chest.

"Why the long face?" Yunho asked.

"She hasn't wished me... And I guess I expected to spend my birthday with her and Jooyun but she got called for work." Mingi shrugged, trying to brush it off.

"But I know I can't say anything. She has always been forgiving and understanding when I have to put work first." Mingi continued.

"That's true. (y/n)'s one of a kind. I would have dumped you." Yunho teased with a snicker.

"Yah, my son is here." Mingi rolled his eyes. Trust Yunho to know how to put a smile on Mingi's face. When their manager pulled up outside the cafe, Yunho helped Jooyun out of his car seat.

"Thanks again, hyung." Mingi went to hug the manager.

"You're welcome, Mingi ah. Oh, and happy birthday from me and my wife." The manager took a money envelope out and handed it to him.

"Hyung, you know I can't." Mingi shook his head, wanting to refuse the monetary gift.

"Just take it. My wife will kill me if I go back with it." He chuckled. Mingi conceeded with a nod, he usually put all of his birthday money into the account you and him set up for Jooyun. He wanted the money to go to a good cause and this was his good cause, ensuring a future for Jooyun.

"Appa!" Jooyun called. Mingi tucked the money envelope into his clutch and headed to follow the two into the cafe.

"I want waffles!" Jooyun said.

"Magic word?" Mingi reminded.

"Please! Waffles!" He added amidst his excited giggling. Mingi chuckled and patted Jooyun's head. The 3 found a booth seat tucked in the corner, granting them a little more privacy.

"I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON!" You wailed, throwing your phone aside as you fell back onto the couch.

"Yes, you are." Wooyoung poked his head out of the kitchen to reply. You poked an eye open and nearly gave him the finger.

"Ignore him. You're not a horrible person, (y/n). Why would you say that?" Yeosang asked, sitting beside you and taking your hand into his lap to comfort you.

"Mingi sounded so sad on the phone. He's probably disappointed I'm at 'work' or that I haven't even wished him happy birthday. How can I make him so sad on his birthday?" You pouted, falling against Yeosang's shoulder.

"You're like Jooyun throwing a tantrum." Jongho said.

"Shut it. I hate you all." You hissed. Safe to say, you got along really well with the Ateez members.

"What did we do?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, gesturing to himself, San and Hongjoong. But honestly, they were used to you bickering with Wooyoung and Jongho.

"Let's just get this done before they come home early." You rubbed your temples.

Yes, this was all a plan to surprise Mingi for his birthday. You were initially unsure about it but the boys assured you it'll be fine.

"I need help wrapping his presents. They got delivered earlier today." You said. San followed you to the room to help you bring the stack of presents out.

"Wow, talk about overboard." Hongjoong whistled.

"Well, I blame all of you for making me stressed with this genius plan of yours. I felt like I needed to buy all this because I felt bad for making him upset on his birthday." You frowned before going to retrieve all the wrapping paper. There were different ones, all leftovers from Jooyun's presents.

"He'll be fine. He has Yunho and Jooyun there with him. That's all he needs." Wooyoung teased you. He always liked to joke that Yunho was Mingi's number 1 person.

"Just make the cake or I'll bash your face into it." You threatened through gritted teeth.

"Captain, she's threatening me." Wooyoung complained to Hongjoong, who just sighed and facepalmed.

"Uh, hang on, San. Some of the deliveries aren't presents for Mingi. I haven't had the chance to sort them." You said, checking the different invoices and delivery slips.

"I'm guessing this Aniteez one isn't a present?" San raised an eyebrow, holding up the box.

"Oh, yeah. Jooyun felt bad for not having Bbyongming so he wanted one. And I ordered Ddeongbyeoli's new yellow coat." You showed.

"Jooyun's getting Bbyongming while you're still hugging Ddeongbyeoli? I wonder who is the mature one." Jongho asked.

"I don't like your tone. And please, as if Jooyun will give up Tyudeongi. They're like best friends. So don't bring Byeoli into this." You scoffed. Seonghwa could only watch in amusement as you spoke fondly of his Aniteez character.

"Mingi's texting me." You paused the gift wrapping, a sad look on your face as you looked at Mingi's texts. He sent you pictures of Jooyun and him enjoying brunch.

"Aww, look at them." You showed the photos to San, who smiled softly at the father and son.

"Come, let me reply." Seonghwa took your phone to help you reply much to your protest.

'Enjoy yourselves, you two. - (y/n)'

Mingi looked at your reply. It was so... dry and unlike you. As Yunho went to pay the bill, Mingi was left the stew in his thoughts. Did he perhaps do something to upset you?

No, not that he can think of. Or did you just forget his birthday?

For a long time, Mingi did say that to him, a birthday was like any other day. He didn't want you to go out of your way to plan something big for him, he enjoyed just being with you and Jooyun.

But now that you hadn't wished him or spent time with him on his birthday, he was feeling a little hollow. Maybe you were busy and forgot, which is completely understandable. You've been juggling large work assignments and Jooyun since Mingi was always busy with work or overseas.

"Appa, are you okay?" Jooyun tugged on his father's sleeve with a small tilt of his head.

"I'm fine, buddy." Mingi smiled, combing Jooyun's hair back. Yunho returned to the table after having paid for brunch. Both father and son thanked him for the meal.

"Shall we go hang out at home?" Mingi asked, gathering his things and standing up, helping Jooyun off the chair.

"Not yet. There's somewhere we have to go first." Yunho smiled with a glint in his eye.

"What are you planning, Yun...?" Mingi knew Yunho long enough to know that look. Yunho innocently shrugged and guided the two out of the cafe. He booked a car, not telling Mingi the address.

"Samchon, where are we going?" Now Jooyun was confused too. And Mingi knew Yunho wouldn't ignore Jooyun.

"It's a surprise." Yunho giggled, putting a finger to his lips.

"I like surprises!" Jooyun cheered. Mingi wanted to facepalm, he had hoped that Jooyun would pressed Yunho more for the answer as to where they were headed. That was when the car pulled up in front of a mall. But not any ordinary mall, a mall with high end stores.

"You already know we're here for your present." Yunho nudged Mingi, who rubbed the back of his neck, the realisation sinking in. Why else would they be here?

"Good afternoon." The door man at one of the shops welcomed them.

"Hi, appointment for Jeong Yunho." Yunho said, showing the lady inside the reservation on his phone.

"Oh, yes. Mr Jeong. Please take a seat, can I get you anything to drink in the mean time? Coffee, tea, champagne or juice for the boy?" The lady asked.

"Two iced coffees, please. And yes, a juice box for my nephew too." Yunho ordered.

"Of course." She bowed and walked away. Mingi kept Jooyun on his lap, not wanting him to wander around.

"Look, appa! A doggy like Tyudeongi." Jooyun kicked his feet as he saw one of the fancy cloth animals that people would buy and decorate their houses with.

"Yeah, it is. But don't touch it, okay?" Mingi said. Jooyun nodded obediently. When the lady came, he received the juice box and took a sip while Mingi drank his coffee. The store manager of the store came out to greet them. Mingi sat Jooyun on the chair to shake hands with the suited male.

"Happy birthday, Mr Song." He wished.

"Thanks." Mingi smiled. Before they could get what they came for, the staff came out with a small cake and candles, all of them clapping and singing happy birthday.

"Cake!" Jooyun exclaimed happily.

"Thank you, thank you." Mingi bowed to everyone and closed his eyes to make a quick wish before blowing the candles.

"We will box the cake for you." The store manager nodded to one of the employees, who brought the cake away. After that, he wheeled out a coat rack with a single coat.

"Wow... Is this for me?" Mingi was in awe, feeling the material of the black coat.

"Yes, custom cashmere coat. Dark red silk lining." The manager continued to list the details of the coat.

"You did all this?" Mingi turned to his best friend, who nodded his head. Mingi walked over, engulfing Yunho in a big hug. He knew this coat must not have been cheap and every small detail had been customised by Yunho.

"Try it on." Yunho said. The manager placed the coat onto Mingi's shoulders and he went to look at the mirror. It complimented Mingi's frame well.

"It feels amazing and sits nicely on my shoulders." He ran his fingers against the material.

"I'm happy to hear that. You look great, Mr Song." The manager complimented, making Mingi's ears heat up.

Mingi liked that it was simple looking on the outside, like a regular black coat. Only he and Yunho will know all the effort that was put into designing and planning this coat.

"Appa looks so cool~" Jooyun sang.

"Thanks, buddy." Mingi chuckled. He snapped a photo and sent it to you, not mentioning it was a gift from Yunho.

"If there are no adjustments you need to make, Mr Song, you are welcomed to take the coat home today." The manager smiled. Mingi turned to Yunho.

"It's up to you." Yunho shrugged. Mingi nodded to the manager, he can't wait to show it to you in real life. After removing the coat, Mingi passed it to the manager, who folded it and wrapped it up neatly, tying everything together with a ribbon. Mingi and Yunho received the paper bag with a bow.

"Come on, Joo." Mingi held his hand out to his son, who quickly ran over to hold his hand.

"Maybe if (y/n) is done with work, we could swing by and pick her up before going home." Mingi thought out loud as he walked.

'Wow, that coat looks great on you! But you're handsome with or without the coat anyway <3 And no need to pick me, I'll see you at home? - (y/n)'

'And I'm quite tired. Can we just get takeout tonight? - (y/n)'

Now, that sounded like you. Mingi smiled to himself as Yunho hailed a cab for the 3 of them.

But you still hadn't wished him or showed any signs of realising what day it was. So at that point, Mingi assumed you genuinely forgot. It's fine, as long as you were not angry or upset with him.

"Where are we going now?" Jooyun asked his father and uncle.

"Going home to see mama." Mingi replied. Just like Mingi, Jooyun was obsessed with you. Therefore, after hearing your name, Jooyun's eyes lit up with excitement. Of course, Jooyun loves both his parents but he was a mama's boy.

"Yay! I missed mama." Jooyun giggled as they got into the cab. Mingi nodded in agreement. Half his birthday was gone and he had yet to speak to you face to face.

When the cab pulled up to the apartment building, Yunho watched the father and son excitedly head upstairs to the house.

"You two are so alike sometimes, it's scary." He laughed as Mingi keyed in the code for the house.

"Shh, I think mama might be asleep, buddy. So let's be quiet." Mingi whispered to Jooyun when he noticed all the lights were off. Until the lights turned on.

"SURPRISE!" You and the other Ateez members jumped out. Mingi's eyes widened in surprise.

"What- How? I- What?" He blinked in confusion.

"The boys made me lie to you and give you the cold shoulder to surprise you. I wasn't at the office." You chuckled, much to the protest of the Ateez boys. When his eyes fell on you, Mingi crossed the room and pulled you into a hug. He buried his face into your shoulder while you squeezed him.

"I thought you were mad at me or something." He mumbled.

"Ah, that was the boys stealing my phone to reply to you. Why would I be mad at you, hmm?" You pulled away to cup his cheeks, a soft smile on your face.

"Happy birthday, Song Mingi." You wished and tip toed to give him a sweet kiss while his arms moved to wrap around your waist.

"Yah, in case you forgot, we're still here. Plus, there's a kid in the room!" Wooyoung screeched.

"Aish, let them have their moment. They haven't seen each other and it's Mingi's birthday." San grabbed Wooyoung, putting him in a headlock, making him yell.

"Sorry I was made to be mean to you on your birthday. I feel awful." You pouted with a small frown, stroking his cheek.

"It's all good, beautiful. I'm just glad you didn't forget my birthday nor are you mad at me." He said.

"I would never forget your birthday, Min. Remember, I play Ateez Superstar? Your birthday event has been going on." You giggled. Apart from being Mingi's wife and the mother of his child, you were also a dedicated ATINY.

"Mama!" Jooyun finally ran over to hug your legs. You bent down to hug Jooyun, showering him in kisses while Mingi went to greet the other members.

"I did good?" Jooyun asked.

"You did amazing, baby. You and samchon. Good job." You patted his head. He laughed shyly, throwing his arms around your neck.

"Now that Mingi is here, we can eat!" Yeosang said with delight. You nodded and gestured for the boys to start eating. Mingi wasn't rushed, he came over to hug you.

"I missed you the whole day." He whispered, pressing his lips to your temple and letting it linger there for a bit.

"I missed you too." You hugged him tightly.

"Okay, lovebirds. Better get food before it's all gone." Seonghwa laughed with two full plates in his hands. You didn't need to worry, knowing someone will help Jooyun or share food with him.

"Galbi!" Jooyun pointed excitedly and San grabbed two pieces to put onto the plate that Jongho was holding, presumably Jooyun's plate. Seeing San help with getting Jooyun's food settled, you and Mingi went to get your own food. Mingi's arm stayed around your waist the entire time.

"Separate them for half a day and they can't seem to keep their hands off each other." Yunho chuckled.

"Jooyun's going to get another sibling tonight." Wooyoung smirked.

"Don't say that in front of the kid!" Hongjoong slapped his arm. Jooyun blinked innocently, focused on the piece of meat Seonghwa had cut up for him.

"My baby eats so well." You came to sit with Jooyun and cooed at him. He grinned at you, making you pinch his cheek.

"It's my birthday. Only look at me." Mingi drew your attention back to him with a childish pout.

"I know it's your birthday but Jooyun is your child too." You shot Mingi a flat look. Both Mingi and Jooyun always liked to fight for your attention. The two of them arguing on who hugs you, etc.

The rest of the party was spent just chilling, the boys even played some video games. Hongjoong had moved to the room with Jooyun to play with him and you went to check on them, mostly wanting Jooyun to have his nap.

"Min! Come look." You whispered, pointing to Jooyun's room. You saw Hongjoong and Jooyun sleeping together in his bed, the both fast asleep.

"The captain can really sleep anywhere." Mingi scoffed softly.

"That's not what I meant..." You slapped your forehead. Snapping a quick picture of the two, you pushed Mingi out of the room.

"No wonder the two of them were playing so quietly in the room." Yeosang chuckled.

"Shall we cut the cake after Jooyun and Hongjoong wake up from their nap?" You asked the rest with a giggle as Mingi grabbed your waist to make you sit on his lap on the couch.

"They both need naps or they'll be grumpy." Jongho joked. Seonghwa laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Don't you wanna play?" You asked Mingi softly, seeing the boys engage in a game of Mario Kart.

"No, I'd rather be here." He grinned, leaning in to press his forehead against your temple. You slung your arm around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. Honestly, there was nowhere else you'd rather be but to be close to Mingi. With his hectic schedule, you hardly had time for each other.

"Aish!" Wooyoung cursed when San threw a shell at him. You were so glad Jooyun wasn't here. The boys, including Mingi, have been caught using 'bad' language around Jooyun before.

"Shh, Jooyun and Joong are sleeping." You shushed him.

"You just get back to smooching with Mangi." Wooyoung scoffed in reply. You felt your cheeks heat up.

"Yah, Jung Wooyoung." Mingi scolded when you scooched out of his lap in embarrassment. You laughed and went to the kitchen to get more drinks for everyone.

"Baby~" Mingi whined, trapping you in his arms between his body and the counter.

"Why are you whining?" You grasped his chin. He held your wrist to move your hand as he leaned down to kiss you.

"Wanna be with you." He mumbled, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck. You stroked the back of his head.

"You ARE with me, that's why we have a son. A son that you're sounding a lot like right now." You laughed, shaking your head at how silly Mingi was being. Jooyun already looks like Mingi so when the two whine, they looked even more similar.

"Alright, let me fix more drinks and snacks for the boys." You patted his hip.

"Let me help. I'm sure you've been busy planning this surprise and putting up with the boys at the same time." Mingi kissed your temple and tried to take over.

"No, you're the birthday boy. It's fine." You stroked his cheek but Mingi used his height, holding the juice jug away from you.

"Alright, you do the drinks and I'll do the snacks." You said, beginning to get some snacks together.

It didn't take long for Jooyun to wake up from his nap. Hongjoong came to get you and Mingi but Mingi beat you to it, going to his room to comfort him.

"Sleep well, buddy?" Mingi asked, sitting Jooyun on his lap and brushing his hair out of his face. You went in to see the two.

"Mama..." Jooyun reached out to you. You sent Mingi a smug smile and picked Jooyun up into your arms from Mingi's lap. He buried his face into your chest. Once Jooyun was settled and a feeling more sociable, you brought him out so you could cut Mingi's birthday cake. He didn't want to leave your side though.

"We're cutting appa's cake, baby." You said to him. Jooyun looked on curiously but still hugged your leg, his other arm wrapped around his precious Tyudeongie.

"Come." Mingi lifted Jooyun up into his arms as San lit the candles. Wooyoung took a video of everyone singing the birthday song.

"Make a wish, Mingi." You smiled.

"I already have everything I could ever wish for." Mingi smiled back, leaning to steal a peck.

"Boooooooo!!" The other boys jeered, making you giggle. Mingi rolled his eyes but leaned down to blow out the candles, making everyone clap and cheer.

"Picture time!" Yunho said and the boys all took turns to take picture with Mingi while you cut the cake. Yeosang and Seonghwa helped.

When the cake and presents were done, the boys helped to clean up before leaving so you and Mingi could spend the evening together. Jooyun, exhausted from the activities from the entire day, went to bed even earlier than he usually does.

"He's asleep?" Mingi sat up from bed as you came back into the room. You nodded and climbed into bed with him.

"Come here, my love." Mingi pulled you to him.

"Happy birthday, Song Mingi. I hope you enjoyed yourself and had a good birthday. Thank you for being you." You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Mingi squeezed your waist.

"Thank you for today. Even if the boys' plan was to make you ignore me, the party itself was great. Couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my birthday." Mingi smiled softly, kissing the top of your head.

"I'm glad." You giggled.

"You know, I realised something." Mingi suddenly said. You tilted your head at him.

"I always say my birthday doesn't mean much to me but today, I think it does. Because it's when I get to spend an entire day with you." He hugged you tightly.

"Oh, Mingi. You can always spend time with me, not only on your birthday." You stroked his cheek with your thumb.

"Mm-mm, it's different. I don't know how to describe it, maybe it's because I know we won't be interrupted by our jobs or anyone else on this day. It's just a day where we can be in our own bubble. With Jooyun, of course. I hate when my job takes me away from the both of you." He smiled sadly.

"I know it's hard but if it weren't for your job, we wouldn't have met. We may spend time apart but you know you'll always have the two of us to come home to." You smiled softly.

"I know. I am so grateful for everything you do for me while I barely give anything to you and Jooyun in return." He nodded.

"Don't say that, you do a lot for me too, Mingi. And Jooyun loves you dearly." You giggled.

"I love you both so much. You're already everything I could ever wish for and on top of that, you gave me Jooyun. Thank you." He leaned down to press his lips against yours.

"Are you going to tell me what you wished for?" You asked.

"I thought you're not supposed to tell what you wished for or else it won't come true?" Mingi teased.

"I'm sure there are exceptions, such as to the mother of your child." You rolled your eyes. Mingi laughed and hugged your waist, burying his face against your chest like Jooyun does.

"Okay, I'm not lying. I really didn't wish for anything. I didn't see the need to. I already have you, I have Jooyun. There's nothing else I want but for the both of you to be happy and healthy." Mingi smiled softly, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"As long as we have you, we'll always be happy and healthy." You hummed, feeling your heart swell at his words.

"You've raised Jooyun well, I'm excited to watch him grow up with you. And perhaps, even watch other children grow up with him." Mingi squeezed your hand.

"We've raised Jooyun well. I couldn't have done this alone, Min. Don't shortchange what you've done too." You stroked his head.

"And when the time comes, when we're ready, we can discuss having more children." You added.

"Really? You would have more? With me?" He met your eyes, his own sparkling with anticipation and excitement. You burst out laughing, cupping his cheeks in your hands.

"Of course with you! Who else? And I'm not making promises but I am open to the idea of giving Jooyun siblings." You said.

"Also, I noticed that you said 'siblings' plural so that means you're open to having more than one more. Now, I really can't wait for that to happen." Mingi smirked playfully and squeezed your waist, making your cheeks heat up.

~

Masterlist

[froggerland]

I made a pattern for the terror gloves!!

Please note I'm not a professional and this is just for funsies, sorry for my clunky english but knitting terminology is a whole other beast lmao

I hope you can make some sense of this

Full tutorial under the cut

Terror Gloves Tutorial

Disclaimer: I’m not a professional and I’ve never written a knitting pattern before, I just made this up as I went tbh, basing it on a german tutorial I used for regular fingerless gloves I had made a couple of times already, the fingers I made up on my own. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to make another pair to document the process for you as of right now, so you���ll have to work off of the pattern alone. Sorry for all the weird terminology, translating german knitting vocab to english fried my brain real good lads.

 I’d say this is a beginner to intermediate level project, you should know how to purl and knit and how to make left leaning and right leaning increases. For the latter one I’ve linked a tutorial on YouTube at the part where it comes up in the pattern.

All that being said: I hope you enjoy making these gloves! Feel free to @ me on tumblr if you’d like to show them off :D

What you need:

- Yarn that requires you to use size 4 needles (3,5mm in the german/european system, the UK doesn’t carry the equivalent of this size for some reason, so use a size 10 or 9 depending on how tight you’re knitting); the color is obviously up to you, I used a grey close to the one most of the boys are sporting. I also used a 100% wool yarn, but I know those can be pricy so feel to use whatever is available to you :) I used about 50g, maybe a little more for my pair

-> Please note that I didn’t make a test swatch since I’ve used the base pattern of these gloves before and know that this size of needle works for me. I’d say I my tension when knitting is normal – tight so if you knit more loosely maybe choose smaller needles

- Size 4 double pointed needles (3,5 german/european, 10/9 UK)

- Safety pins

- Darning needle to weave in the ends

- Scissors

Tutorial:

- Cast on 11 stitches on four of your five double pointed needles

-> If you have smaller hands you might need to start with 10 instead of 11 stiches on each needle

- Join in the round and start the pattern for the ribbing that will make the glove a little tighter around your wrist, which means purl 2, knit 2, until the end of the row

- Repeat the purl – knit pattern for 20 rows

- Knit 10 regular rounds

- Now for the thumb: Knit 1, pick up 1 new stitch (it doesn’t matter if it’s left or right leaning), knit 1, place a safety pins on the needle behind that stitch so you can keep track of your increase section (tutorial for increases)

- Knit the rest of the round normally, as well as the round that follows

- Knit 1, make 1 left leaning increase, knit 1, make 1 right leaning increase, knit 1, slide the safety pin over

- Knit the rest of the round normally, as well as the round that follows; from now on the pattern will be one row with increases, one row without increases

- So in the next round with increases you will knit 2, make 1 left leaning increase, knit 1, make 1 right leaning increase, knit 2, slide the safety pin over

- Continue with this for 14 rounds (7 with and 7 without increases) until you have 15 stitches in the section framed by the safety pin

-> If you have small hands you might need to stop before reaching 14 rounds, your work should just about cover the first bone (going upward from the base) in your thumb. Maybe stop at 10 or 12 rounds, make sure you end on one without any increases

- After your last “no increases” round, before you start with the next round put the 15 stitches for the thumb on hold by sliding 7 of the stitches onto one safety pin, the other 8 onto another; you will not continue to work with these stitches (for now)

- Continue like normal and start knitting the rest of the stitches on the needle, making sure to join tightly to avoid a gap and finish the round

- Knit 11 regular rounds or until you reach the base of your pinky finger; you should have 42 stitches on all of your four needles right now

- We will start by knitting the pinky finger: For this knit normal until you’re at the second needle and have 5 stitches left on it

- Put all but 10 stitches (the ones on the second needle and the first 5 on the third needle) on hold by placing them ideally on two big safety pins or several smaller ones

- Knit normally until you reach the end of the second needle; here you will take a third needle and pick up 2 more stitches, one from the side the second needle is on, one from the side the first needle is on, so ideally, you’re keeping the gap that’s going to form between the fingers as small as possible

-> If you have small hands, you might only have to pick up 1 stitch or none at all; if you find that that’s the case split the 10 stitches onto three needles so they’re easier to work with and continue as written down below

- This was the first round; knit 9 more or until your work almost reaches the second bone in your pinky finger or just until you decide that it’s enough (feel free to try the gloves on as you go!), cast off and cut the yarn

- For the ring finger, pick up 10 stitches from the ones you put on hold, once again two needles with 5 stitches

- Join the yarn in the same place you started with the pinky finger

- Knit the first needle, then pick up 2 stitches on a new needle as I described it for the pinky finger

- Knit the 5 stitches on the second needle, then use yet another needle to once again pick up 2 stitches. You now have 14 stitches on 4 needles

-> If you have small hands, you might only have to pick up 1 stitch per new needle or just one stitch on one new needle

- Knit 14 more rows like this or until your work almost reaches the second bone in your ring finger or once again until you decide that it’s enough, cast off and cut the yarn

- The middle finger works exactly the same: Pick up 10 stitches from the safety pins, pick up 4 new stitches on two new needles, knit 15 rounds or however many, cast off and cut the yarn

- For the pointer finger you should have 12 stitches left since we started off with 42 in total (30 already “used” leaves 12) which means we only need to pick up 2 new stitches on one new needle (whether you pick them up on the side facing the thumb or the one facing the other fingers is up to you; I picked the one facing the thumb but picking the other one will probably look better)

-> If you have small hands, you might only have to pick up 1 stitch or none at all

- Knit 14 rounds or however many, cast off and cut the yarn

- Now to finish off the thumb: Put the stitches back onto your needles, 7 on one needle, 8 on another; now taking up a third needle slide the last stitch on the second needle onto it, pick up 2 new stiches around the base to make sure there’s minimal gaping, then pick up the first stitch on the first needle. You should now have a total of 17 stitches, split on three needles (6, 7 and 4 stitches) forming a triangle

- For the first round, join the yarn into the first stitch on the first needle; knit normally until you reach the third needle: Here you knit the first 2 and the last 2 stitches together, leaving you with 2 stitches on that needle

- Repeat this for the next round and knit the remaining 2 stitches on the third needle together, leaving you with 1 stitch on that needle (it can be finicky handling this third needle but it makes working the rounds a lot easier)

- Knit 5 rounds or until your work reaches over the second bone in your thumb, cast off and cut the yarn

- Weave in the ends; you might have to go back in with extra yarn if the holes between the fingers are too big for your liking

Yay!!! You finished it, congrats!! :D

[ceasarslegion]

I work in aviation safety. Let's talk statistics, before the fear mongering train leaves the station.

Around 45,000 flights take off and land in the US every day.

3 aircrafts have crashed in the last week.

That means 99.996% of flights took off and landed without incident. None of those 3 aircrafts were commercial passenger planes, ie none of them were the types of planes you will likely fly on throughout your life. Unless you're in the military, wealthy, or part of a special travel group like a sports team, a diplomat, high-risk prisoner transport, or an air ambulance, you will likely never fly on a private charter flight or military aircraft.

That means all public commercial flights in the US on the days of the recent crashes took off and landed safely, as far as I have been able to find.

Is 2 crashes within a week an absolutely unacceptable number? Yes.

Is this likely connected to the recent firings of the American aviation safety and ATC personnel? Yes.

Is this indicative of a wider trend that I should be worried about as an average citizen of the US, or someone traveling to or within the US? As of now, February 1st, 2025, no. Flying is still, statistically, the safest mode of transportation. Even with the recent crashes included in the numbers, even if you're travelling within the US.

Does this have anything to do with DEI? No. The aviation safety industry has some of the most stringent job training regimens in the world. No one who can't cut it in ATC will get anywhere near an ATC tower, regardless of their minority status. I don't work in ATC, but I'm under the wider aviation safety umbrella, and it took 3 months to finish my training. 18 people started out in my training class and 7 of us passed. No one in an airport terminal can get the badges we wear without passing that along with an INTERPOL background check that we have to do all over again every few years.

Why are you telling me that? Does it really matter if he gutted the ATC? It does, actually. My point is that the people they let work in airports are some of the most competent and capable individuals you can find. You don't cut it if you can't think on your feet or juggle unexpected and unprecedented situations and handle emergencies and contingencies. On average, an air traffic controller handles 5-15 planes at the same time, but they're trained on handling many more in the event of emergencies and unprecedented situations. It's not ideal right now, it's really not, but considering all the things I just told you about aviation safety employees, and the fact that ATC is THE hardest career to cut it in within that umbrella, even the worlds worst air traffic controller is as capable and trustworthy to handle your life as a good neurosurgeon.

And please, please support the american ATCs right now. Just because they CAN handle emergency-level workloads doesn't make it easy or sustainable for long periods of time. Do not blame the ATCs who were handling the crashed flights, it wasn't their fault that they were overworked and overstressed and numbers and directions started scrambling in their heads. They already have to live with what happened for the rest of their lives, they don't need other people making value judgements of them too.

[thecapricunt1616]

Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): “Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 

♡ One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.

♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)

♡ W/C: 4,140

♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024

♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D

♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep. 

He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties. 

You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed. 

 Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes. 

That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to. 

Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds. 

Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom. 

You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt. 

You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips. 

“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you. 

The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently. 

The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust. 

You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys. 

“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness 

“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back. 

You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg. 

“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips. 

“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek. 

“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas 

He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly. 

His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him 

He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him. 

“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source. 

“Shit-“  he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you. 

“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly. 

“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 

“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty. 

Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it. 

“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders 

“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source. 

“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light 

“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes. 

“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him. 

“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot. 

“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected. 

“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips. 

“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head 

“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt. 

“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you 

“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted. 

You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had. 

“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down. 

“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm. 

“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit 

“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended. 

“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased 

He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained 

“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway. 

Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day. 

People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it. 

“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude. 

“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage. 

“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously. 

“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow. 

“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like…like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his. 

“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away. 

“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses. 

“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.  

You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly. 

“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern. 

“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me” 

You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm. 

“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit. 

“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so. 

“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously. 

“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly 

“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’ 

“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make. 

“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit 

“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently 

He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval. 

You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder. 

He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy 

“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently. 

“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”

[lolxdswag123]

Aftermath of a Mission

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: y/n and Peter are used to decompressing after a mission together. This time, it isn’t so easy. What happens when they both have to figure it outout on their own?

warnings: crying, some angst, accidental pulling out of hair, slight ptsd

——————————————————————————

Exhausted. Aching. Bored. I couldn’t focus on a word that Dr. Banner was saying during our debrief. All I could do was sit back and stare at the wall until it was over.

I wasn’t even sure why I had to attend these meetings as I wasn’t technically even an Avenger. My dad insisted that I sit in because it’ll be useful to me in the future.

I tapped my foot, checking my watch, anxious to leave the conference room. I glanced across the table to my best friend, who looked just as exhausted as I felt. I definitely zoned out looking at him, because the next thing I noticed was him looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows, as if asking what’s wrong.

I let out a yawn in response, shooting a glance at the door and hoping he could read my thoughts. I just wanted to get out of there.

Missions can be fun sometimes, but the recovery is most certainly not. I’d typically spend about a day in bed before I could finally start functioning as a normal human being again. Usually that day in bed is spent with my best friend.

It started after a particularly rough mission about a year ago. Peter wasn’t even going out with us yet at that point, but he had just been sick— and we both desperately needed rest. I had gotten a minor injury to my ribs, and Peter being the sweetest best friend in the world decided to come check on me and bring me ice. He ended up falling asleep next to me for about 15 hours. My dad threw a tantrum.

Ever since then— as long as we’re sneaky enough— it has become a habit for us after we come back from missions. And maybe a few other occasions as well.

It was just easier to sleep next to someone else. Especially after the mental and emotional strain that missions bring. Being with someone who brings you comfort makes all the difference.

I swear I was already half asleep by the time the meeting finally ended, moving extra slowly as I got up and exited the room. I latched onto Peter's arm, leaning most of my body weight on him as we headed to the elevators.

Steve and Nat stayed behind, somehow still having more to discuss. They were nuts.

We entered the elevator with my dad and Thor. They each pressed their respective buttons, going to the floors of the compound that their rooms were on. I reached out as well, pressing the level 3 button for my room.

My dad stood up straight, moving in front of the elevator panel before glancing over at us and speaking, "Where you headed, Pete?"

Peter didn't have a real room at the compound yet, so he really should've been headed to the showers on level 1. Although, for the past year he has just been showering in my bathroom- not to my dad's knowledge of course.

"Uh-mm," he choked out smoothly.

I shook my head, speaking for him, "He's just going to shower in my bathroom, dad."

I could feel Peter tense against me, clearly afraid of my dad's reaction.

My father dramatically turned his head, using his palm to bang on his ear a couple times, before removing his ear piece all together and saying, "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. It sounded like you just said that Spider-boy is showering in your bathroom."

I rolled my eyes, sighing, about to speak back when Thor spoke up, "Ah, Stark, let them have their fun. On Asgard I had many women bathing in my chambers by that age." He said, patting my father on the back.

I rolled my eyes, knowing Thor's comment is no help at all.

My father shook his head, facing me and sticking a scolding finger out at me, "You are not showering with your little boyfriend under my roof. Understood?"

I blushed, hating his phrasing. The elevator stopped, and Thor stepped forward, nodding awkwardly to us before exiting.

When the doors closed again, I rolled my eyes, turning to my father again, "First of all, we're not showering together," I said, using air quotes, "And second, he isn't my boyfriend. It's just easier to have someone there after these missions, you know that better than anyone, dad."

I crossed my arms, awaiting his response.

He shook his head, "Nope. Not today, kid. Pete, I'll escort you to the first floor showers."

The elevator door dinged, and it was my turn to leave. I glanced up at Peter, hoping that he would find a way to come back to my room later. He gave me a nervous look, so I wasn't too sure he would.

I squeezed his hand, exiting the elevator without looking back, but I could hear my dad mumbling something about "no spider-babies" as I walked away.

After a much-needed, very refreshing shower, I sat on my bed in my towel, feeling the weight of the past few days lingering over me like a storm cloud, ready to let loose at any moment.

Usually after missions Peter and I would immediately come to my room, and everyone was too exhausted to even pay attention. Today however, the debrief had taken so long that there was no easy way for us to come back together.

It felt lonely. I had a heavy feeling of emptiness in my heart. I hadn’t realized how much I’d gotten used to his presence at times like these. Even with the winding down after we got back— he had always been there. We’d sit in eachother’s comfortable silence, he’d comb my hair for me, we’d patch up eachother’s wounds, and then we’d fall asleep together.

I was embarrassed by how much this was affecting me. I was a Stark, I should’ve been okay being alone. And yet, I could feel tears stinging my eyes as I sat there, trying to comb out my own hair. My hands were shaking from a mixture of fatigue and frustration, making it even more difficult to get through the knots. Peter had always been so gentle.

My comb got stuck on a particularly tough knot. I tugged, causing clump of hair to come out, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I instantly started sobbing.

I could feel my body trembling, desperately needing sleep and desperately needing company. I threw on the first clothes that I could find, knowing I looked crazy, and headed out into the hall in search of my best friend.

I cried, wiping my tears with the sleeves of my shirt, and shifted uncomfortably with the feeling of wet hair on my back. I felt overstimulated if the feeling of overstimulation was on steroids and a red bull.

I heard footsteps from the other end of the hall, and I sniffled, my voice cracking as I called out, “Peter?”

I felt pain in the side of my head, and I reached up to be reminded of the broken strands of hair that were now hanging sadly to the side. I sobbed again.

I didn’t hear a response, so I called out again, “Peter?”

Peter didn’t round the corner. Bucky did. I wiped my tears, knowing that I looked like a mess, and attempted to force a smile at him.

He frowned, running his hand through his own wet hair. “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, reaching out to me.

I immediately felt the lump in my throat grow as tears began streaming down my face again. I didn’t trust my words, so I just shook my head, looking at the ground.

“Do you want me to find Peter?” He asked gently, resting his hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, swallowing hard and trying to find my words. “Please,” I whispered.

He nodded, stepping forward to wrap me in a hug. I cried into his shoulder. It did give me a sense of comfort to be with anyone at this point. I knew I was just so over exhausted that my feelings were all messed up, but I knew I really needed Peter.

Bucky rubbed my back, trying his best to comfort me before slowly pulling away. “You gonna be okay if I go look for Peter?”

I nodded, wiping my tears again and said, “Thanks, Bucky. You’re the best.”

He smiled sadly, nodding and turned back to the elevator— hopefully in search of Peter. I didn’t care if the whole compound knew how much of a mess I was at this point if it meant he would come find me.

I walked back to my room, and the tears stopped. I felt numb, and exhausted. I left the comb on my nightstand. I couldn’t deal with that now. I turned off my lights and crawled into bed, shivering with pain— physical and emotional.

I’m not sure how long I layed there. It might’ve been five minutes, it might’ve been fifteen, but eventually I heard my door open and close quietly, and soft footsteps entered the room.

I felt the covers lift up, and the bed dipped next to me. I immediately sighed with relief, feeling his arms wrap around me. I could hear his breath shaking, and I pushed him back slightly, trying to see his face in the dark.

“What’s wrong baby?” I whispered, reaching behind me to turn on my lamp. My heart broke when I saw tears on his face, and I could see his expression drop even more when he looked into my swollen eyes.

He grabbed my hands, pulling me close and whispered, “I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to being with you after a mission,” he took a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing, “then Bucky found me when I was talking to your dad and he told me you needed me and I kind of lost it. You know that thing that happens when my senses freak out? It was like that but ten times worse.” I nodded feeling tears start to fall again when his voice cracked, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

I shook my head, taking his face in my hands. “It’s okay, Pete, it’s okay. Are you doing okay now?”

He nodded, tucking his face into my hand. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

I nodded, laughing and lifting one of my hands off of his face to find my broken section of hair. “I accidentally took some of my hair out.”

Instead of laughing, his face dropped in concern, and he then reached his own hands out to hold my face, “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

I shook my head, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands on my face, “You’re here now, it’s okay.”

He nodded, moving close and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I smiled, and closed my eyes at the soft gesture of affection.

When he pulled away, I opened my eyes and furrowed my eyebrows, realizing I must’ve missed something. “How’d you get my dad to let you up here?” I asked.

He sighed, “After Bucky told us how he found you, then I went into sensory overload, he kinda just sent me off.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but didn’t respond.

“I think it hurt him,” Peter said, “hearing how upset you were.”

I nodded, yawning and moving closer to rest my head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. I finally felt safe again, and I felt a warm sensation in my chest.

Peter kissed the top of my head, whispering, “Get some sleep, angel.”

I nodded, hesitating for just a second. I knew what I wanted to say, we’d just never said it out loud before. I never knew if it was crossing the line past being just friends, but after today I didn’t care. I needed him to know.

“I love you, Peter.” I whispered, hugging him tightly.

“I love you too.” He answered without hesitation, hugging me back.

I smiled, sitting up to look at him, taking his face in my hands again.

“I love you,” I whispered again, seeing him smile as well.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered back, leaning into my touch.

Without thinking any more, I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. When I pulled away, he was smiling at me with such a look of adoration that I almost teared up again.

I was about to lay back on his chest and go to sleep, but he gently took my face in his hands, returning another soft kiss to my lips. When we pulled away, we both blinked hard, looking at each other with so much love.

Finally, I laid my head back on his chest and we both fell into a deep sleep. It was almost fifteen hours later that I was awaken to my dad bursting into the room, saying, “Just because I was fine with it doesn’t mean you need to sleep together for fifteen hours. Get out Spider-boy.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:04 pm]

(cw: f!reader, side characters are inebriated)

Frat!Jaehyun stared at his phone expectantly. You were late. 28 minutes and some seconds late to the party you had told him just earlier that day that you'd come to. The crowd of party goers was getting thicker, the air was getting hotter, and people were getting more and more unbearable. Even though the party had only started about an hour ago, he could could count on both hands the amount of times he'd already been offered a drink, but he denied them every time. He wanted to be clear and level headed for when you would soon text him that you were at the entrance and wanted to find him.

But another 15 minutes passed and he had still heard nothing from you. His calls went to voicemail, his texts were unanswered, and there was radio silence on your end. He was getting restless, had he done something to annoy you? He didn't think he did, but maybe when you offered him a drink of your coffee earlier he had taken too much. But that wouldn't justify you ignoring him.

He pulled away from the wall in search of familiar faces to ask if anyone had seen you. Taeyong, Mark, Johnny, and Doyoung all answered no. Yuta yelled over the music, "It's crazy packed in here, she'll find you! Want a drink?"

Jaehyun shook his head angrily, "She hasn't answered any of my texts, I'm getting worried."

Taeyong took note of the concerned look on Jaehyun's face and leaned in to tell Jaehyun, "I saw her roommate outside not too long ago, you should ask her."

Jaehyun nodded, quickly making his way outside to catch sight of your roommate. She was clearly tipsy but was able to tell Jaehyun that you were ready for the party when you got a huge headache and decided to stay in. He thanked her profusely before fighting his way through the thick crowd to the front door.

"Bro! Where are you going?" Mark yelled.

"She's sick in her dorm, I'm going to run by a pharmacy and get her some medicine and stuff," Jaehyun answered.

"But you're Social Chair, man. You can't leave!" A drunk Haechan whined.

"I have bigger responsibilities, get him some water before he puts another bathroom out of commission for the night. I'll be back tomorrow," Jaehyun firmly told Mark.

Jaehyun was running quickly to your dorm after he stopped by the pharmacy. He flashed the RA a quick smile and quickly pulled out his student ID. "I'm glad you're here," she told him as she led him to your room, "poor thing, her roommate told me she'd never seen her this poorly."

Jaehyun's nervousness heightened, he gave the RA a quick thanks as he slid into your dorm. He left his shoes at the door and padded to your room quietly. He pushed the door open as gently as he could, only to catch sight of you buried under you blankets and pillows with soft only sniffles heard.

"Baby?" He questioned quietly, making his way to the edge of your bed.

"Jaehyun?" Came your weak response.

"My love, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" He cooed softly.

You whined, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "you had a party you were so excited about. It hit me so suddenly, I just came to bed. I don't even know where I left my phone."

He shook his head with a sigh, he pulled the pills out from the pharmacy bag and dropped two into one of your hands and a gatorade in the other hand, "take these while I look for it."

He moved around your room quietly, folding the clothes you had no doubt left on the floor in your rush to get to the party, putting away shoes and searching your desk- no phone. He stepped into the bathroom finding it beside an open bottle of eyelash glue and one false eyelash.

Jaehyun placed your phone on your bedside table and slid into bed with you, pulling you into his hold and letting you rest your head on his chest. "You know I care more about you than some stupid party right?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded against his chest, "You were excited about this one, though."

He chuckled softly, running his hand down your back comfortingly, "I was excited because you were excited to surprise me with your outfit, my love."

You nuzzled into his chest, squeezing your arms around his waist, "thank you for taking care of me Jaehyun."

"I'd do anything for you," he stated softly.

You were drifting to sleep, your eyes struggling to stay open, "Can you change next time, so you don't smell like a frat house though?"

He rolled his eyes, you were going to be better in no time.

[homelanderbutbig]

Keeping Track (G/T Homelander x Reader)

897 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander tracks affection like people track their water intake. Inspired by a conversation with @themeraldee.

It's been one of those days, mentally drained from meeting after meeting as Homelander's personal assistant. You barely had any time to spend with him compared to your normal schedule, but work always comes first for the both of you.

When you have a moment to go back to your office later in the afternoon for a short break, you're surprised upon opening the door to find Homelander already waiting inside. However, he doesn't acknowledge you as he silently stares out the window with his hands behind his back. A telltale sign of one of his signature 'grumpy moods'.

"Hey there sweetie, didn't expect you'd be in here," you smile at him, closing the door before you saunter over to your desk, placing your papers down. He still hasn't said a word, so you lean against the front of your desk and stare at him. Your head is cocked to the side, waiting for him to crack like he always does.

"Do you hate me?" he finally questions you.

"…What?" you ask, taken aback. That was not what you were expecting.

"You always give me 15 hugs. But you only gave me 8 today," he states matter-of-factly, angling his head to gaze down at you. You rarely ever see him look at you in such a stern manner.

You stand there mute, blinking confusedly at what you just heard. But then, you can't suppress the laugh that occurs at hearing why he's so upset at you. It doesn't help you quiet your snickering when he pouts at your response.

"Don't laugh at me," Homelander utters bluntly, tensing his jaw and putting his fists down to his sides. He looks so offended by your reaction; this is serious, how can you be laughing at this? At him?

"Hun, I'm not laughing at you! I didn't realize you were keeping track!" you eventually say after your giggles subside, wiping the tears from your eyes. He can be a funny little creature sometimes.

Walking closer to his side, you reach your hand up to one of his large fists, coaxing him to unfurl his hand so you can intertwine your fingers with his own. This helps him relax a bit, taking the edge off of your transgression with your apologetic contact.

"I'm sorry baby boy, you know I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Is it that important to you?" you ask him, waiting for him to give you a silent nod. He was deprived of affection his whole life, and now that he has you he wants nothing more than to drown in it.

"Well, why don't I start making up my quota now," you remark, letting go of his hand. You can feel the slightest hesitation of his fingers at your absence, but you won't let his agony last long. "Can you please pick me up?"

Gently, he reaches down and encompasses your waist with both hands, lifting you up to his chest to be eye-level with him. You waste no time in giving him a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as tightly as you can muster. Your fingers comb through his hair, running along his scalp in soothing lines. A simple enough maneuver, like one would do to pet a dog, and yet it's like magic to him. You can feel with each drag of your fingers how he sinks into your touch, letting go of his upset.

Somehow, despite only being half of Homelander's size, you manage to engulf him with your loving affections.

"There, one more for today's total," you declare confidently, pulling back to see his satisfied expression. You're happy that he's no longer grumpy like when you first saw him in your office. You can't help but wonder how long he was waiting in here alone, obsessing to himself about these secret parameters he's established for your relationship.

"You're still 6 short," he retorts amusedly, answering your own inner thoughts. His eyebrows are raised while he shows off his fangs with a playful smile. Still haven't hit the daily quota, eh?

"Don't worry, I'm not done with you yet mister," you whisper lightheartedly as you squeeze his cheeks with all your strength, earning you a hearty chuckle from Homelander in return. You could never hurt him with your average human muscles, but he can still feel your delightful cuteness aggression all the same.

You lean in for a kiss as your hands move from his cheeks up to scratch his undercut, making sure to hit all the sweet spots he adores. Which isn't really fair, you know he can't fight the purrs building deep in his chest while your nails reduce him to putty with each drag. You can feel the rumbling from his content whimpering as he melts into you, blanketing your shoulders with his big hands to pull you closer into his chest for another hug. You're buried within his massive arms, unable to free yourself from his superhuman strength, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else anyways.

"That's another one," you note when you finally break from your kiss, but still keeping your foreheads pressed together. He hums blissfully, drunk off the recent affection as he looks into your eyes, letting his hot breaths dance across your face.

He knows he has 5 more hugs coming tonight. After all, it's expected now that you know the minimum.

[possiblylando]

HTP; Ghoul Lore Audio Log Spoilers/Analysis/Discussion

Dude holy shit uh Spoiler barrier and then all in cause

Okay Okay fuck where to begin this episode literally changes everything okay I guess lets start at the Draught. Based on what we know about this unique Draught, it means Grimal might not be the ghoul?? If the ghoul potentially has this Draught (which I vaguely doubt will come into play in this arc specifically) it could mean anyone could be the ghoul so long as they were only in a place without 1 other person. Atleast I assume so because if they could use this high power Dominate on multiple people simultaneously then this whole operation would be cooked from the start. While I was very mixed on the idea of Gloria as the Ghoul previously, I think its far more possible now. This high level Dominate (Lets assume 4 dots) This ghoul could have access to Rationalize or Forgetful Mind, Or any others in that category. If Grimal is was being commanded to act that could explain why everything is so suspicious around her. Have someone else go in and take care of Occam while the ghoul sits with someone else and has the perfect alibi. So now I think the possibilities for Ghoul are; 1. Grimal is the Ghoul (The Draught is a red herring and simply setting up something in a future arc instead of this current one.) 2. Gloria is the Ghoul & has this Draught; this is based more on Vibes and the fact Gloria doesn't actually do too much in part 1 outside checking Occam's pulse. If she's the ghoul and commanded someone (Namely Grimal) to attack Occam, she would have a vested interested in knowing if the attack was successful. Okay thats about it for my thoughts on the Ghoul right now. Onto the far more important bit of this episode. Because this was not simpyl a Ghoul Lore episode, THIS WAS A MARCKUS LORE EPISODE TROJAN HORSE.

But before the deep Marckus shit- Markus was 12 in 1988. Door was present and seems to be in his 20s or 30s. Boy has not been born yet and Boy is 11 in 2006 so he was born in like 1995. So I think its reasonable to place door as being in his 20s here, having Boy in his 30s. This means Door is probably 8-15? (Maybe) years older than Markus which would make him roughly 40 in modern day. D does look markedly younger in these photographs but I'm not sure if thats art style or actually because he's aged. It does put a damped on my thoughts about D being MUCH older than he seems. But we do know his previous Ex-Wife Rozalia (The Ghoul) is roughly 108 in modern day. It seems to be implied D had met & later married her after she was pretty deep into being a ghoul so there probably was a large age gap already. But it still kinda stands out to me. D is very afraid or Marckus becoming a Ghoul because he sees himself in him. I don't necessarily think D was a ghoul (thought it could explain his weird age). Thought all this might be confirmation Bias as in the more recent episodes D's hair has been more consistently colored with grey streaks when compared to earlier episodes where it was more like a sheen in his hair. It just feels like D has done too much to only be roughly in his 60-70s and very fit. While older people can certainly be in good physical condition it doesnt seem like D has suffered any real negatives from aging? He's MINIMUM 18 years older than Door who is in his 40s but again that's a low ball. I don't know. Alright time for the Marckus stuff. So its rather basic background knowledge that HTP's main cast is inspired by the cast of Warhammer 40k TTS. Now up until this point I had thought it was mostly a baseline thing. Only really carrying over personalities and vague relationships between characters while having the freedom to change them with that background knowledge. But based on this episode it appears to be more relevant.

Whatever the fuck Marckus managed to summon, It was something not even D understood. This is in directly parallel with 40k's Magnus who Marckus is based on. For those who don't know about 40k lore (I don't blame you its VERY long.), Magnus is a Primarch (Emperor's special kids) who ended up being manipulated by 40k's god of trickery and ended up fucking up literally everything because of his lack of thinking things through and the influence of said trickster god. Gods in 40k are manifestations of humanity (and alien's) collective subconscious minds and often take the forms of their most volatile negative aspects. They're entited formed from 'The Warp' which is the source of magic in 40k. Magnus is very naturally tuned to the warp. Almost all the issues in TTS (and 40k) relating to Magnus are because he has a MASSIVE complex. He craves parental affection and affirmation but in TTS every time he thinks hes denied it, some shit goes wrong. When he actually gets that parental affection (Earlier season 2 iirc) he mellows out alot until finding out the only reason the emperor (D's counterpart) brought him back was so that Magnus would act as a pawn and decoy in his 5d chess game to deal with political enemies. Magnus is not happy about this. With all this background information, whats present in this episode slots into place. Marckus seems to have forgotten about the incident yes. The better case is that he blocked out the memory due to trauma. But the worse possibility is that a seed was planted. One that's been festering within him since that time. D may be planning to tell Marckus everything in a few months, But I get the feeling before those months are up, That seed will sprout. In one form or another, Marckus will be given the option to go down the same path of darkness as his predecessor. I don't think Marckus would go for such a path without a push but the one providing that push might be D, even if unintentionally. D is so focused on the forest that he's missing the trees.

[sayruq]

In January of 2024, Dr. Bara Zuhaili entered Gaza on a two-week medical mission with a U.S.-based organization, Rahma Worldwide. Dr. Zuhaili dedicated most of his time to Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al-Balah, central Gaza. While this was not his first experience in a wartime or crisis setting — he had undertaken medical missions in Syria and was in southern Turkey during the earthquake — it proved to be his most horrific. As a vascular surgeon, he was tasked with assisting Gazan doctors in one of the ugliest tasks of this war: amputations. A generation of amputees has emerged, with over 10 children losing one or more limbs per day, on average, since the beginning of the war. Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah called it “the biggest cohort of pediatric amputees in history.” Even this statistic, reported by UNICEF in December of 2023, is now outdated. The true number of men, women, and child amputees remains unknown, with estimates ranging upwards of 10,000 people. It is a number that will continue to rise as new and unknown weapons destroy tissue and bone, crumbling medical infrastructures and scarce supplies force constant life-and-death decisions, while infections and chronic illnesses — largely ignored — silently kill or handicap thousands.

Is this the first time you've worked in a war zone or in a humanitarian crisis? Did any of them prepare you for this? It was not the first time. Unfortunately, I had experience in Syria, working in the underground hospitals in the besieged areas of Aleppo and Idlib. There, the healthcare facilities were also under constant attack by the Syrian regime. But Gaza was unlike anything I had seen before. To start, the supply chain was completely broken. Supplies were extremely limited in Deir Al Balah, where I was based for most of my stay. The hospital functioned at only 5-10% capacity compared to any similar hospital in the Middle East—I'm not even talking about an American hospital. Then, there were the number of patients. Just to give you an idea: Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al Balah is only equipped for 150 patients. Under extreme circumstances, they could maybe stretch to accommodate up to 200 patients. When I arrived, there were 950 patients, in addition to over 20,000 refugees sleeping in the corridors of the hospital and its complex. Every time we experienced a bombardment, we had anywhere from 20 to 60 patients rushing in simultaneously, in addition to the patients already being treated. It was completely overwhelming and overcrowded. The third issue had to do with the type of injuries. I've seen a lot of trauma before — traumatic injuries are not new to me — but the level of trauma I saw was something I've never witnessed in my entire life. When I was in the operating room, I would get a call from the ER saying someone was shot in the leg and they needed me as soon as possible. In my mind, someone shot in the leg with a bullet would have an entry size of about five to six millimeters and an exit wound size of about two centimeters long. That is what I was familiar with. What I saw in Gaza — which I had never seen before — was literally as if an explosion, an RPG, had exploded into the leg. The entry wound would be about five to 10 centimeters wide and the exit wound would be almost 30 centimeters wide. One bullet would destroy a diameter of 10-15 centimeters… all of the muscle, bone, arteries, and nerves were all gone, destroyed.I'm not a military expert, I don't know much about weapons. But I don't know what kind of bullet can cause that much destruction. With a bullet wound in the U.S., I could get away with doing a bypass to salvage the leg. In Gaza, there was nothing anyone could do to salvage the leg. The amount of tissue damage forced me to do amputations almost every single time. 

Can you describe what a single day would look like? As a rule, anytime a bombardment happened, we would wait between four to eight hours before we received any injured people. In Deir Al-Balah, we would see the missile hitting two to three kilometers away and we knew that there were many casualties, but it would take these people — who were only three kilometers away from us — four to eight hours to reach our location. The IOF (Israeli Occupation Forces) prevented any ambulances from entering the scene, and anyone attempting to help or approach would be shot. I had many cases where the ambulance driver would come to me holding two or three kids. They were dead, and he would swear to me they were alive four hours ago. We lost a lot of lives just waiting to reach us in the hospital. Our days typically began around seven in the morning, and even though the night was filled with attacks and bombardments, no casualties would reach us before the morning. By then, we would go to the ER and try to start the triage process: determining who needs to go to the OR first and who could afford to wait. We would then perform surgeries throughout the day, often not finishing until one or two in the morning. Sometimes, if I had time, I would do my rounds to check on the patients, and by late afternoon, we would have more bombardments and injuries coming in until midnight. Usually, by midnight, things slowed down… not because there was no bombardment, but because they couldn't reach us anymore.