#bp writes

[ilycove]

Xyx’s hair tickled the base of your neck, his arms slithering around your waist and gripping like a vice. “I think the odds are in my favor today.”

You refused to acknowledge him for the time being. You’d asked the receptionist at the hotel you were staying very politely that you needed two beds, and here you were. In his arms. Which was nice, you loved him and he loved you and he was really warm, but it would be even nicer if he wasn’t being such a smug asshole about all of this. “This is only something that happens in bad fanfiction.”

“Oh, don’t act like that doll. You love me.”

You covered up the fond smile that was growing on your face by rolling your eyes. “Some days. Now I’m wondering why we’re even together.”

"So what I'm hearing is," he grabs your jaw with gentle fingers and places kisses where your jaw and neck meet, more smile than lips. "You admit that you love me? That you're sooo obsessed with me?"

"Oh my god," You feel laughter bubbling up in your throat and the faux scowl that once covered your face has been replaced with something more genuine. "You suck."

You feel Xyx's teeth against your skin. "And you're in love with me. What does that make you?"

"A fool."

He hums, closing his eyes and chuckling. His smirk is nothing but mischievous, you don't dare to trust him. "I was going for mental, or deranged even, but sure."

"I'm gonna punch you." You roll your eyes again and make an attempt to move your hands, but they're pinned to the side of your head before you can even go that far.

Xyx's eyes are now open and cunning. Like a devil, you think. Like a really pretty devil. "With what hands?"

Your guard is let down and you barely notice him leaning towards your face, pressing angel-like kisses all over your face. You sigh. "You suck."

"You've said that before. Are you just so in love with me you can't think right now?"

You kick him in the shin and give him a quick kiss to his lips. "Don't push it too much."

Xyx laughs and you swear to everything that is righteous and holy that it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Your limbs are entangled and you could swear you hated him a minute ago, but when he's this pretty you forget why.

You push a strand of hair away from his eyes and he leans into your touch, kissing your palm softly. His laughter starts up again and his demonic smile returns. "Eww. You're being cringe right now."

You shove him off the bed. You remembered why you hate him.

[prettyboykatsuki]

i've been very far home, my heart | nightowl (blooming panic)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags; established relationship, hurt/comfort, feelings of inadequacy / low self worth, gn!reader (they wear heels and have manicured nails, but otherwise nondescript. no gendered language), role reversal, arguing / messy human behavior, suggestive towards the end, they are implied to be the same height 🫡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wc ; 3.7k (added 500 to wc in editing. ok)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a/n ; bro idk what happened here FDHJDKDKJ. my sleep meds were making me feel super hungover, i got a little cooked on the devils lettuce and then wrote this?? and it wasn't bad lmaoaoa??

i really like this blonde twink ive known for three days. he is like. so extremely, hilariously my type and exactly like several ppl i've dated so this end up being a reflective piece on being a giver n navigating adult relationships.

title is from where we go by jelani aryeh

The bathroom light is on.

It’s spilling underneath the door frame when you come in from work later than usual. It’s busy season, with new clientele - all of which require socializing around drinks and expensive dinners to secure them. It’s nearly 1am, and you’ve taken two Ubers to get back home from the restaurant all the way across town that you’ve been mingling at since nine.

You closed the deal though, and your boss (perhaps seeing the visible exhaustion in your eyes) has given you the go-ahead on taking a few days off. The consulting part of your financial advising job could wait until Monday, which was a relief to hear. You came home expecting Nightowl to be up. He’s always up this late, and when he is - he rarely limits himself to one room in the apartment. You have a routine to it. You sleep in the dark bedroom and Owl tries not to make so much noise as to wake you.

You texted him you’d be late, and he’d read it but didn’t reply. Too worn down to think anything of It at the time, you slept on two car rides rather irresponsibly and were unsure of what to feel when your apartment didn’t have any lights from the outside upon arrival. Youwalked in after that, wondering if your eyes had been playing tricks. But the house was still dark, both upstairs and down stairs - in the bedroom and in the office. The only place you could find any trace of life was in the bathroom.

You’ve only left your bag on the couch downstairs. Worry makes your brows furrow as you turn the door knob to your shared bathroom and walk in. The clinical scent of bleach is the first thing to grasp your senses, jolting you awake from the haze of steam and leftover buzz of alcohol.

You cough a little, and find Nightowl on the bathroom floor. There’s a bottle of peach soju on the counter, and a few open packets of developer and mixing bowls. Owl is drunk already you think, or at the very least tipsy, moreso than you. The hot blush on his skin makes you think he’s been at it for a while. You try not to monitor his liquor intake too much, but the concern you feel is immediate and not helped by where you find him.

His body is slumped against the gray wall closes to the tub, sitting on the tile with a different bottle in his hand. His phone is face down beside him and he’s not noticed you come in. Your frown deepens as your heels click slightly on the tile. Crouching down at the knee, you reach your hand out for his forehead. His skin is so hot it’s scorching. You sober up almost instantly.

Even in his inebriated state, he seems to recognize you. His smile is wide, but you don’t feel like it reaches his eyes.

“Oh, so you decided to come home after all!”

You smile sadly followed with a curt nod. “Sorry.”

“Don’t really see what the point is in you apologizing when you’ve already been so late,” He says jovial. You try not to let it sting. You remind yourself that he’s drunk and stifle a sigh again. “But welcome home!”

“Were you gonna bleach your hair?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Yeah,” You reply, choosing to sigh that time. His lip wobbles a little and you try not to say anything more. “Do you want help?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

You mumble something about being right back and Nightowl hums in affirmation. A feeling washes over you. Bone-deep exhaustion crushing your lungs and making you wheeze when you step out of the bleach-scented bathroom. When you’re distance enough away that he won’t hear you - closer to your bedroom door, you breathe in and out, calming yourself down. After you feel more centered, you open your shared room door and take a stool from along the wall, bringing it with you into the bathroom. Nightowl doesn’t turn his head to look at you until you place it. Sharing a glance with each other, he gets up on his own and sits himself on the placed stool dramatically and you give him a weak smile through the mirror he doesn’t bother returning.

You’re quiet as you leave the door open a touch to make sure the steam doesn’t overheat you both. Shrugging off your suit jacket, you fold it and hang it on the towel racks behind you. You unbutton your sleeves and roll them into neat folds on both arms, and before digging into one of your bathroom drawers for plastic gloves. Sliding them onto your manicured fingers, you pick up the bowl of developer from the side of the counter and mix it using the provided brush until it’s all smooth.

Nightowl is unusually silent through the entire thing. If he weren’t fidgeting, you could barely tell he was there. It’s so difficult to see him that way. You try not to blame yourself too much.

“Gonna start,”

“Uh-huh,”

A longing passes over you in the warm, sterile air. The coolness from the A.C. in the rest of your apartment dries down the sheen of sweat your accumulated while out socializing. Your feet are killing you and your shoulders are aching and your lungs feel like you can’t get enough air out of them. That’s busy season for you. The price of your job with all of it’s stability and benefits is the annual stretch of months where you are so busy you feel like you are drowning.

It’s one thing to be so mind-numbingly busy when you’re single and only worried about not dying. Another though to have a partner waiting for you, who you love and would like to be with - who you’ve admittedly not done well in paying attention to. You’ve tried you think. Made some attempts, but it doesn’t feel good enough and it certainly isn’t enough for Nightowl. You know that, too. You look down at where your hands are applying the bleach, dazed - using only muscle memory to apply it to the roots and strands of his hair. You want to touch him. To press kisses into his spine, drunk and elated, and press your cheek to his shoulder and confess your undying love until he’s giggly all over again.

The thought of adoration soothes you. Makes you smile to yourself even amongst the unforgiving atmosphere. Nightowl doesn’t care for that, his face growing even more frustrated.

“Thought of something fun? Glad at least one of us is having a good time.”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. He looks away when he sees how pained you look, and you shut your eyes trying not to react. “Sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” He frowns, though he seems more sad than you.

“S—“ You clear your throat and laugh humorlessly at yourself. “Okay,”

You go about your business. Many things cross your mind but you can’t wrangle your thoughts into anything cohesive enough to say. Your jaw tightens a little, like your mouth wants to practice syllables it can’t remember. The distraction of rubbing bleach into Nightowls roots is welcome. His hair is a lot healthier than it used to be, after a year of forcing him to use hair masks. You admire as you brush through the strands, and Nightowl seems to lost in his own thoughts to say anything in protest. He probably hates this silence more than you. He’s uncharacteristically stiff, and there’s no smalltalk to distract from the surroundings.

You’re not feeling well enough to try and remedy it. Allowing yourself to stonewall and sit in the discomfort is about as much as you can do to reach a hand to your relationship. You probably can’t make it better, but you can do your best not to make it any worse.

“All done,” You mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. You slide the gloves off and toss them into the trash “We should sober up before bed. Hangover before bed sounds awful. Did you,” You hiccup. “Want some?”

He doesn’t reply to you. You press your lips into a flat line, feeling somewhat sorrowful but ultimately resigned. “I’ll make some anyway. And set a timer too while I’m down there. Just, uh - join me. When you’re done here.”

Before you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist. You’re taken aback by the sudden gesture (though there’s not force in it), turning around to look at him. His face is red. Wet tears pool on the corners of his straight, black lashes. Blinking a few times in surprise, you reach your hand to wipe them from the corners. Muscle memory. You find your love for him defined that way. He doesn’t flinch away from the touch, at least.

“Don’t you have something to say to me,” He insists. You frown in genuine confusion, a sad smile pulling at your mouth.

“Thought you told me to stop saying sorry,” You repeat with no malice, smiling a little. “That’s all I’ve got though.”

His lower lip trembles again and you try not to laugh. “God. How could you be so. God.” He sniffles a little. “You could cuss me out. Or like, I dunno, just get mad in general. You’re supposed to be mad, I was,” He cuts himself off.

You laugh a little tiredly, bending down to press your forehead to his. The flush of his skin against your own makes your heart murmur his name. “I don’t have anything to say, my heart.” You assure, smiling. “We’re both pretty tired. But I have tomorrow off. Let’s cool off and talk tomorrow. “Okay?”

“Okay,” He says back, still simmering. “As long as you’re here tomorrow.”

Your heart stings. “For the next two days, promise. I’ll toss my work phone if you want.”

He cracks a smile like that. “Might have to take you up on that, cutie.”

The familiar nickname eases you a bit, making you laugh. “Whatever you want.”

__

Morning comes unyielding and indifferent, like always.

Sunlight filters through the curtains as your eyes peel open and try to get adjusted to the light. There’s a weight on top of you, and the sound of steady breath. Another heartbeat thumps alongside yours and before you can make much sense of it - you catch the freshly yellow blond roots of your lover as he lays on your chest.

You went to bed last night not even facing each other. The image of him reaching around for you in his sleep and ending up in your arms feels like divine intervention. You admire how perfectly he fits there. Your eyes trace of his features. Thick, straight brows, skin like light gold, a straight nose and full lips. The shock of blonde suits him strangely, makes the dark lines of his other features pop. It’s rare you get to look at him so closely, even more so lately.

The intimacy of his flaws makes your stomach flutter, texture in his skin and eyebags and all. You crane your neck to kiss his hairline and think about returning to sleep in the cocoon of warmth. The cradle of soothes you, makes your eyelids heavy with sleep again. You think it’d be nice to sleep in more, but you don’t want to squander anymore time with Nightowl. Shifting, you pry yourself away from his grasp and tuck him into blankets. You’ll wake him later.

You’re quiet as you tiptoe around the house and get your affairs in order. The bathroom first to shower and brush your teeth, then downstairs to start on breakfast. You take the ritual of it to calm down and ease the leftover nerves of your stomach. It was better to save any conversation for sobriety - so you don’t regret it. Still, you feel a fear lingering. A nagging voice in the back of your head as you flip pancakes and cut fruit and pour juice.

The eerie silence of Saturday morning pushes you to reflect. It’s rare you fight like this. Even more rare that Nightowl reverts to that kind of angriness, which is why you find you can’t get upset. Not even the sound of sizzling and frying can keep your mind from wandering.

Inadequacy is familiar. An old winter jacket, too sizes too small and ill-fitting but full of your own personhood. One of the things you and Nightowl bonded over a long time ago.

You did well in school, in college, made a career for yourself. It’s making up for the rest of you, you think.

At least you’re good at your job, even if the rest of you is not worth mentioning. The ghost of feeling like you are, in some basic and intrinsic way, not good enough likes to shake you every now and again. Not friend, nor partner. It’s not something you easily get rid of, despite how far you’ve grown past it. Or around it. Or ahead of it. Wherever you’ve ended up, occasions come that knock the feeling loose from your deepest memories. You work hard to cover for it.

You like to logic your way out of the guilt when you’ve poured so much into it and people drift. A self-fulfilling prophecy. Usually that works. Tuck your emotions into neat compartments, throw yourself further into your work, don’t drink too heavily or be alone with anyone for too long. Ignore everything, do it by yourself so you’re still worth something, wait until it’s over. Eventually it all comes to pass, and you come out of the other end alive - but alone.

You can’t do that anymore though. It’s hard to remember that. Isolation is no longer the answer, because there is someone (multiple people, really) who will feel lonely without you. Even if it’s unfathomable to you, even if it’s hard to remember. The consequences creep up like this, and your left with the emotional void of making a bad situation worse. Sorry is the only word you know. There are so many things to be sorry for.

You’re so lost in thought you burn a pancake and have to toss it. You also seem to miss the presence of another person in your shared space until Nightowl comes and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Turning the heat down, you shift to face him. He looks exhausted but he must’ve come down after washing up.

“You’re awake.”

“Mhm.” He says, still sleepy. A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. “So are you. And you’re making me breakfast.”

You laugh. “I am. So, go sit down.” And then, a little more serious. “We have a lot to talk about but I’d rather do it on a full stomach.”

“We’re in an argument and you’re still taking care of me.” Sadness bleeds into his words.

You reply without skipping a beat, going back to the stove to pour some more batter. “Well, its not like I don’t love you anymore.”

There’s a long, long pause of silence that alarms you once you recognize it. Once you hear sniffling, you whip around again to see Nightowl weeping a little as he leans against the counter. Alarms go off in your head, once again turning the stove down. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely, bending down to get a closer look at him. He’s cover his face with his hands.

“Ugh,” His voice is thick and heavy. “Can you not be so nice and perfect and angelic? I’m trying really hard to be mad at you and I’m failing like a loser.”

You can tell there’s some sincerity in his words, though you ignore the first half of his statement. “I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

He pulls away then, looks at you incredulous. “You’re so,” His hands curl at your chest as you hug him slightly. You’re confused but don’t say anything. “God, you’re so frustrating.”

“Sorry,” You say apologetically. “Don’t mean to make you cry either. Feel like I’m going that a lot. We should really eat.”

“Don’t want to,” He whines a little as he says. “Just. I want to kiss and makeup already.”

You smile a little before humming.

“We should talk about it, then.”

Nightowl just nods, and you take that as permission to just go. You do your best to get the words out.

“I really love you,” You say first, and then sigh. Nightowl clings onto you tighter and listens instead of interjecting, which must mean he’s feeling serious. “And uhm, was already feeling bad about myself. And then I got busy which made it worse cause I couldn’t really you know… be there for you, so I ended up pulling away to figure it out alone and then got even busier. Which was isolating for you, and I’m sorry for that. It’s hard to like.. I dunno. Lean on you. On anyone.” You laugh a little. “Is that too vague?”

“It makes sense to me but…what were you feeling bad about, even?”

“Well I was busy before that, so I just felt shitty about being a bad partner to you. In general, don’t feel like I deserve you but then you know,” You sigh “It was shitty of me.”

“Are you kidding me?” He says. His face is twisted in a pout. “You’re seriously being all mopey ‘cause you think you’re a bad partner when you’re like… literally the best ever? Like, that I’ve ever had?”

You’re too surprised to say anything. “Is that not why were arguing?”

“I mean,” His frown deepens, and he presses his face against your chest. “Ugh. So embarrassing. I am upset because you’re so busy and we haven’t spent time together but that’s like… totally not your fault, yknow? I’m being super clingy and I was just… really lonely yesterday.”

“Sorry for making you feel lonely.”

“Stop apologizing or I’m gonna bite you, ‘kay cutie?” He says seriously. You relent with a worrisome smile and encourage him to keep going. “I was getting like… all pathetic. Cause I thought you didn’t want me anymore, didn’t even occur to me something was wrong. I’m so sorry about that, about all of it - god. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you. I hate that it still gets so bad when we've been together so long. I just missed you so fucking much. And I think so highly of you, I couldn’t help but be all torn up about the idea that you were pulling away cause you didn’t want me.”

“I do want you. I’m just surprised you want me sometimes.”

“You’re dumb,” He whispers with no bite at all. “That’s my line. You’re like literally perfect to me.”

“So we got in a fight ‘cause we needed to be with each other,” You say with a long pause, then laugh. “How silly.”

“Guess so,” He says back with a little frown. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay,”

You share a brief moment of comfortable, understanding silence. It feels easier to breathe. Even though it’s messy and foolish, you love being with him. It makes you feel real and whole - wanted to be missed that much.

“I missed you too by the way,” You reply with utmost sincerity. “Only thing I thought of all night was how much I wanted to hold you.”

“You’re making me blush.” He says with a loopy little smile. “Y’mean that?”

“More than anything.” You reply. “I like being with you. I like taking care of you. I like that you’re needy and jealous and temperamental.”

“Stopppp,” He groans and you laugh aloud, leaning forward to place a kiss on his jaw. “Not that I hate being told what you like about me but it’s making my tummy flutter.”

“I like loving you,” You say with some finality. “I feel really shitty when I feel like I’m failing at it because I take pride in being good at that.”

“Jeez,” His face is bright pink when you pull away. “You shouldn’t think of yourself so little, yanno? Not that this is a surprise but yesterday I was like, totally acting awful to you. I really am sorry I let it get that bad, I was just really worked up. Even right now you make me so happy, it feels a little unfair to me. I want to be with you all the time. So sometimes when I can’t I just get like… awful. And stupid. And want to throw a bunch of dumb tantrums about it.”

You nod in understanding. “It did hurt my feelings but I really didn’t feel like it was undeserved.”

“It was totally undeserved!”

You crack a little smile. “Agree to disagree?”

He grabs your face with both hands, knocking your foreheads together. “It was undeserved, no take backs. I’m sorry I hurt you and always will be. Stop being so nitpicky about yourself, kay? I’m literally crazy about you.”

“Me too,” You crane your neck to kiss his palm where it cradles your face. “I adore you, baby.”

“I like being adored by you,” He says with a sweetness that makes your heart melt. “I like loving you too of course, but attention is… nice. You know.”

He makes a face at you as you say this that you can only describe as a grin, before pushing himself forward to press a long kiss to your lips. You laugh a little into, smile splitting your face at the intensity he kisses you at first thing in the morning. Over and over, pulling and pushing - giggling as you chase his mouth as he pulls away.

“We kissed but I dunno if we’ve made up,” He says. Concern briefly passes over your expression. “Got some really good ideas about how we could do that.”

You give him a flat look but can’t contain your laughter.

“We should really eat breakfast,”

He puts a hand at the top of your waistband with lidded eyes and smiles. “There’s something else I wanna eat first though?”

You pretend to be exasperated.

“Jesus. We just made-up and you wanna fuck already?”

“Duh. That’s like, the best part,”

You snort. “We’ll go once and then I’m making you eat breakfast even if I have to force it down your throat.”

“Ooh, feeling rough I see,”

You snort. “Yeah, guess so.” You shoot him a little look, leaning into whisper and nip at his ears. “On your knees for me, baby.”

He giggles a little, giddy with mischief in his face. “Mmkay,”

He presses a cheek to your clothed thigh, lovesick. “I love you,”

You can’t help but laugh at his choice of when to say it and simply reply back in full adoration. “I love you too, my heart.”

a/n ; ANOTHER AUTHORS NOTE? sorry for being the ceo of yapping im insane

i just want to like. give some insight on this fight bc im worried it seems onesided. reader has low self esteem and really beats themself over their own expectations in everything. they isolate when they're overwhelmed and work was already doing that to them. and then things got busier, which meant there wasn't really time to repair the relationship between them which is why nightowl gets as mad as he does.

nightowl is deathly afraid of being unloved and abandoned, and he get a little caught up in his self hate that they fail to realize something is going on with their partner. so he lashes it out and it feels warranted but he gets like guilty bc reader doesn't react to the goading any differently

i think nightowl is a very complicated but incredibly familiar character. he's a little selfish but i find him incredibly endearing and i have a strong desire to dote on him and monopolize him. which was the intent for this fic. but i ended up just exploring real life relationship dynamics between a character like this. very selfless x selfish. they love each other and find fulfillment in this. i love them.

[0rphiichaze]

     “Ughh… what time is it..?”

The pleasant drag of Toaster’s drowsy voice cuts through the previously quiet atmosphere, pulling your attention away from the laptop at your fingertips. Frosty blue eyes flutter open, meeting your own. You turn away from them for a moment to look back at your screen.

      “2:17.”

He groans and rolls a bit closer to you.

     “Shit…”

You reach one hand out, slowly carding your fingers through their silky smooth locks. It draws out a sleepy hum from his lips, and they subconsciously lean into your touch.

     “Why didn’t you wake me up..?” His voice is still a quiet murmur, purred into the bed sheets pressed against his cheek. You simply shrug, though a smile comes to your lips.

     “‘Dunno.”

Your tone of voice says otherwise, causing Toasty to peek one eye at you. You can’t help but chuckle at their expression. “You just looked cute I suppose.”

A familiar sputter of syllables slips from their lips, and he buries his face back into the bedsheets. You can’t help but laugh, carefully pulling your hand from their hair. Or at least, you attempt to.

Their hand catches your wrist and drags you back — planting your hand back in his hair. Their hand stays loosely wrapped around your wrist, his skin much warmer than usual. Another quiet chuckle slips from your lips.

     “God, you’re adorable.”

He groans, but doesn’t reply.

✩ Reblogs are appreciated !!

[plumbus-central]

doodles!!!!!

[uncannyoceanz]

bloody painter cause I said so🎨🩸

He’s so babygirl ❤️❤️❤️

he’s def gay for puppeteer, fight me.

[two-crows]

mmmmmmmmmmore of this au while ao3 is being attacked

also yeah this has a name now (and so very creative) LBFU; lil bit fucked up wooaoahhh

[thepinkhippoinhungryhungryhippos]

based on the prompt "bite me", in which you meet xyx at a halloween party and don't recognize him under the costume. (little bit suggestive but sfw) mutuals look away /hj

monster mash was playing louder than you thought was comfortable or possible. colored spotlights were blaring, the main lights having been turned off. all around you there were faces you didn't recognize, and not just because they were in costume. yep. you were at a halloween party.

frankly, you didn't want to be here. you had initially come to support a friend going through a break up, but they went off to talk to some strangers. so much for sticking together, you thought. if they were going to do whatever they wanted, you figured you could do whatever you wanted too.

bursting through the double doors back into the light of the hall, you feel like you can finally breath. sure, you might have been going a little deaf. but you were okay.

the cold tile of the wall sticks to your back as you lean against it, cooling down. after a few moments, you hear footsteps coming down the hall, before abruptly stopping. you begrudgingly brought your eyes up to meet the stranger's own, before meeting a pair of gorgeous green eyes. hm, familiar. taking him in, you found he was dressed in a vampire costume, fangs and all. he didn't look too bad, if you were being honest.

"did it hurt?" you heard the stranger say.

suddenly you remember your costume. you threw on the only costume you had on hand, the angel costume you wore last year.

steeling yourself for the last part of the cheesy pick up line, you merely let out a hum in response.

"when you rolled your ankle on the way out of the taxi? it looked pretty bad." he teased, throwing you a playful yet concerned smile.

shocked by the subversion, he cuts you off before you can respond.

"and when you fell from heaven, angel." he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his suave grin.

"bite me, dracula," you said wryly, "and, for the record, it did hurt when i got out of the cab. i suck at walking in heels." you laughed under your breath.

"oh? maybe i will tonight," he said, turning to lean his back against the wall next to you.

you jabbed him with your elbow, glaring at him with an entertained glint in your eyes.

holding his hands up in defense, he laughed. "kidding, kidding!"

"how about a dance, angel?" he proposed, holding out his hand to you.

"gladly, dracula." you smiled, taking his hand in yours as you walk back into the fray.

[birdricks]

getting sooooo emotional abt how like. when rick and bp meet again during the federation stuff its like theyre completely different ppl from who they were when they last saw each other. but it almost makes them become closer instead of driving them apart… until of course their values clash in the worst possible way

[racfoam]

I got curious what some bookmarks in be proud were and then ended up seeing someone put it under a tag of "Discontinued & Abandoned Work"

The nerve. The absolute fucking nerve. I uploaded 4 chapters within ONE MONTH.

How can they put it's abandoned and put under their tags if I said zero about it being abandoned? I am the author, only I decide if my fic is discontinued or abandoned.

AND BE PROUD ISN'T ABANDONED.

Sometimes we devoted readers wait patiently for a year/two/three/ten... HELL I'LL WAIT FOR MY ENTIRE LIFETIME AND NEVER CALL A FIC ABANDONED/DISCONTINUED UNLESS THE AUTHOR ANNOUNCES SO.

be proud isn't even one year old

I'm really angry. How fucking rude. How fucking entitled.

[ilycove]

Quest mindlessly hums as he's supposed to be teaching you how to play guitar. He has you placed in between his legs, snuggled up nicely to his chest. You can feel his thighs rubbing against your hips, and you almost think you're dreaming.

His guitar strap is wrapped around your neck and his arms are over yours, mocking the movements yours are making. You can see his hands so clearly, so vividly. They're almost like a painting, his tattoo, bones, and veins sticking out perfectly, like a picture perfect memory.

He keeps whispering in your ear. Try this cord. You're doing so well. Now, place your index finger on this one. A little flatter. Bend your fingers more. Stay focused, angel. But how can you focus?

How can you focus when you can feel his lips against your ear? How can you focus when you can still feel his piercing gaze, burning through your skin? How can you focus when his chuckle is so light and airy, like something you would hear in your darkest fantasies? How can you focus when his body around you tightens, and brings you closer?

How can you focus with him around?

You feel the vibrations from his chest against his back, and you’re trying so desperately to block out all noise other than his instructions. You're trying not to listen to his husky whispers and his chuckles that make your heart flutter.

Quest’s rough pads of his thumb and index finger find their way to your chin, eyes looking down upon you with mischievous and teasing eyes. “My, we’re getting quite distracted there, aren't we?”

“Not- not at all, Quest. I’m focused. just like you asked me to.” You cleared your throat and forced your hesitant fingers to focus back on the cords you were playing, remembering his previous instructions.

“So obedient,” He chuckles once more, a deep noise resounding from the depths of his chest, eyes swirling with danger and scrunched up like he’s having the time of his life. 

(He probably is.)

“You seem rather nervous though.” His grip on you tightens and faux sympathy on his face completely disappeared, replaced with a cruel smirk. His thumb rubs on the corner of your bottom lip and he leans in closer, teasing you. "Do I make you nervous, angel?”

Your breath stopped completely, and your heart was beating so loudly you were sure he could hear you. Your eyes tore away from his sight and paid close attention to his lips, slightly dry and still pulled into a grin that only the devil would wear.

“You’re awfully desperate today, aren’t you?” His warm breath fans over your lips, spearmint and strawberries being your only source of air at the moment. He outright laughs at the way you shrink away from him and bite your cheek in embarrassment. 

His hand lets go of you chin, wrapping around the back of your head and pulling you closer. “That’s alright, though. You look absolutely stunning like this, wrapped around my finger.”

[sumtheamazinglysickauthor]

My Medicine - A Xyx Fanfic

"Achoo!” The sneeze came right out of you as you sniffled for a few minutes. Your nose was blocked and was it just you or was it really cold in here? You were so exhausted, too.

“Love, guess who’s back from work~” You hear your husband call out. You’d usually get up and run to him, but you didn’t have the energy. Still, didn’t mean you wouldn’t try. You got up, barely, and put a blanket over your body then proceeded to try to walk outside of your room.

“Doll?” Xyx’s eyes had a hint of worry in them, “You alright?”

“Oh- Yeah! I’m fi-” several coughs come out before you can even finish your sentence. Xyx rushes to your side, checking your temperature

“Oh baby. Looks like someone’s caught a cold.” He says, “And she decided to start walking around instead of resting in her bed.

“Hey! Forgive me for wanting to see my husband. Hmph.” You say, but not without some more coughs coming out of you.

Xyx lets out a chuckle, “You’re forgiven. If you wanted to see me, you could’ve just texted so. Would’ve saved me from an awfully boring meeting with a client, for a day at least. I know you always miss my sexy face.”

“Forget I said anything.”

Before you could say anything else, Xyx starts carrying you, taking you to bed.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Don’t act like we’ve never done something like this, love” He smirks.

You felt the sheets behind you as Xyx gently places you on the bed. You knew you were blushing. You also knew why you started feeling a little warm.

“Now, you stay there alright? I’ll be right back.” he leaves and you watch, wishing you could just grab his hand and ask him to stay. You wanted to ask him to hold you tight, kiss you, and tell him that you didn’t need anything else. If only it was just the sickness talking. It definitely wasn’t.

A few moments go by and you groan, wondering where Xyx is. It felt like it had been hours since he left. How come he gets to go away like that when he just came back? Unfair.

Unfair is just another type of fair you remember Xyx say. You smile thinking of the video calls you guys have had. You’ve come so far from that.

You feel something fluffy under you. You looked and found Cat beneath your blanket. You slowly sit up, bringing them to your lap and petting them. They used their paws to push you down a bit, as if they know you’re sick and are trying to tell you to lie down. You do as told because why wouldn’t you? Cat was too cute for you to say no to anything. You giggle thinking of the time Xyx said Cat was just some stray

“And what’re you laughin’ about?” you see your husband at the doorway, carrying a tray with soup, some medicine, and a glass of water to you. You sit up again and smile.

“Just this lil thing called nunya” you manage to say.

“You dag.” He snickers, before walking towards you and placing the tray on the nightstand, “Drink this and take the medicine.”

“Are you trying to poison your own wife” you dramatically gasp. The sickness was really taking over you. “How could you do such a thing! And I thought you loved me.”

“Oh, m’lady… My deepest, most sincere apologies for not being clearer. For this isn’t poison, but a cure for your deadly disease” Xyx plays along, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you allergic to sincerity?” you raise a brow.

“You’re right. What sort of spell did you cast on me then?”

“Are you calling me a witch?”

“You have some serious gall to accuse me of such a crime. Where’s your testimony? Your evidence?”

You glare at him before smirking and blowing a kiss.

The man is a bit flustered at first, but gives you a smug look. He leans in for a kiss, but your index finger stops him from doing so.

“Nuh uh. I’m not gonna get you sick too.”

“I’m not gonna get sick from a kiss, doll.”

“We will literally share–” you pause from a moment, blushing a bit, “y-you know… And that means we’ll be sharing germs and bacteria and that’ll make you sick and–” before you finish your sentence, Xyx grabs the hand that stopped him from giving you a smooch.

“What a travesty.” he says before cupping your face and kissing you. It was warm and nice and you didn’t want to end it. You knew you should’ve because Xyx would have a chance of getting catching the same cold, but could anyone blame you? How were you supposed to pull away when he was this addicting.

When the two of you finally pulled away to breathe, you looked at him with a pout. “Okay, now you’re probably going to get sick and it’ll be all my fault.”

“I wouldn’t mind chucking a sickie for you, doll,” he winks, “and don’t blame me when you’re the one who blew me a kiss. It was bad enough that I already wanted to kiss you.”

You felt warm at the confession. Xyx being your husband didn’t make things any easier. You could never get used to the things he says.

“Now, love, drink the soup before it gets cold. Or I could always make you drink it… I have my ways.” his voice was deeper now, and you just gulped.

“Okay okay! I’m drinking it- Sheesh.”

You took the soup from the nightstand, taking a sip of it. It tasted warm and amazing. You recognized it to be your favorite and smiled before taking the medicine and drinking the water. Honestly, what would you do without Xyx?

“Thank you…” you clear your throat, “for this. It’s really helping with my throat.”

Xyx smiled at you, “Well I am your hero, babe.”

“Oh my knight in shining armor! How can I ever repay you?”

“I can think of a few ways…”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your grin, “I take it back. I don’t need to repay you.”

“Well, too bad there are no takebacks then.” he grins.

“Whatever. I’m tired. Get in bed, I want cuddles.”

Xyx chuckles, “So demanding, aren’t you?”

“Oh don’t act like you never are.”

“Can’t recall.”

“Xyx, please” you whine.

“Fine. Since you said please so sweetly.”

He lays next to you and you immediately hug him. Cat was now sleeping on one of your legs, but you carefully put the other onto Xyx. The two of you look at Cat, who seemed peaceful at the moment, before looking back at eachother. Honestly, you felt cured.

“Are you sure you’re not my medicine? I seem to be feeling better already.” you look into his deep emerald eyes.

“Is that so? Should I get closer to you then maybe?”

“Maybe you should.”

His laugh is soft and warm. It was so cozy. It felt like… home. You could stay like this forever and never leave.

“I love you, Xyx” you confess, like you have a million other times.

“I love you too, doll” his voice is deep and so sincere you could never doubt it.

You are my medicine

[0rphiichaze]

     “I think you missed, love.”

Twinkling verdant eyes study your smug form, his own exuding a similar aura. His freckled cheeks glow with a rosy blush, his face smothered in glossy kiss stains. Firm arms wrap around your waist and tug you impossibly closer.

A quiet little hum slips from your lips. “News to me. What exactly did I miss?”

Xyx chuckles lowly, ignoring how the blush on his cheeks blooms like roses — slowly spreading across his face. “What’s this game you’re playing, hm? Want me to beg?”

The last word is murmured next to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He’s trying to get you riled up now —  you can’t help but blush. 

     “Oh shut it.” You huff, but can’t fight the smile that creeps to your lips; one that tugs persistently until your cheeks sting and your eyes shine with joy.

His own face is alight, a grin plastered to his face. Eyes hooded, he leans towards you.

     “Oh c’mon babe— indulge me?”

You chuckle. When he looks at you like that, who are you to say no?

✩ Reblogs are appreciated !!

[littencloud9]

voltron sucks. but then i remember that keith always believed that shiro was alive and allura and coran only had each other and pidge never gave up on her brother and lance trusted keith with his deepest insecurities and hunk creates earth-like food so his friends dont get homesick and shiro and keith call each other their brother and they all accepted pidge for who she is and lance sacrificed himself for coran even though they only just met and they all picked each other during the gameshow and they have food fights and mess around in space malls and—

[scrollonso]

for your bp! bezz brainrot <3

he's five months pregnant

first thing i see when i wake up im gonna go crazy

[chris-continues]

Toasty lives for the domesticity you provide them. Each time, without fail, if they wake up before you in bed they take a moment. Savor your presence, bask in not being alone.

He’d considered having a partner. That fell through. But you stayed. You were a constant reminder that they were wanted, lovable- and while his previous loneliness had definitively diminished (although not disappeared entirely), and wasn’t as bad as it was in his highschool years, it was still… nice.

Really nice.

Just like quiet mornings with you.

[thepinkhippoinhungryhungryhippos]

heyo!! can i ask for a little angst for the bp LIs 😌 scenario isss: mc has a very dangerous job (like a spy or smth) but doesn't say anything abt it. one day, they're sent on a mission that goes bad and they're heavily injured to the point where they go into a short coma. when they wake up, they have to tell their lover the truth. how do the LIs react??

ty!! stay hydrated bestie <33

warnings: guns, injuries/broken limbs, blood violence, hostipals/doctor's office notes: idk why this took me so long, i was STRUGGLING but i do like how it turned out. i only did owl and toast, might write quest and xyx's parts later. sorry about that and the wait, and ty for requesting this amazing prompt and being so patient @gabinggabi have a lovely day hope you enjoy <3

despite it all

a single lightbulb flickered inside a concrete basement. the only sounds present were the near-silent noise of your breathing and steps across the floor. sweat dripped down your forehead as you held your pistol close to your chest. the air was so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

your goal was to free a hostage from their holder. the building was surrounded, however you were the only one inside the building. it was truly a solo mission, and a stealth one at that. you would be alright, you thought. you were a professional after all.

keys began to turn in the door. your heart nearly jumped out of your chest, diving behind whatever large object you could find.

unfortunately for you, this particular room had a corner mirror. before you knew it you were pinned to the wall by a surprisingly tough, scrawny man, no older than 30.

he kicked you in the chest, before taking your gun from you. he used it to strike you in the face before aiming it at you, backing you into the wall.

your ribs ached and your body was bruised, cheek already turning red and nose bleeding.

you wracked your brain for something, anything you could do to gain the upper hand. anything to get away, preferably with the hostage. they were the priority here, as soon as they escaped your team could rush into the house and apprehend the criminal.

unfortunately, things were not going so well.

you doubled over as the kidnapper shoved his knee into your stomach, before elbowing you directly on the back of your head.

black patches were beginning to cloud the sides of your vision. your ears were ringing. you fell onto your knees, desperately gripping into the criminals leg in an attempt to do some sort of damage.

your efforts were fruitless however. the criminal proceeded to press his foot down on your arm. you could feel it crack. he pulled back, before kicking you in the side, wringing a pained groan from you. you could taste blood and your head screamed at you.

almost mercifully, he put you out of your misery, whacking you in the head with the pistol once again, finally knocking you out.

black consumed your vision, both a pain and a relief as footsteps faded away, followed by the slamming of a door.

you woke with a start, looking this way and that. panic set in. what happened? did you end up catching the criminal? was the hostage okay? where were you?

it smelled of hand sanitizer and disinfectant. the overhead lights were bright enough to cause a headache. everything in your field of vision was a stark white. you were in a hospital.

on second thought, everything was white, except for your partner on the chair next to your bed.

— nakedtoaster

you blinked as it set in. something went wrong. you were in the hospital, your arm broken, your head aching, and bruises all over. and toasty was there.

you had no idea how long you had been out. god, you hoped it hadn't been that much time. but no matter how long it had been, your boyfriend was there, still; and if their state told you anything, it was that they hadn't left your side since you were checked in.

despite all the circumstances, a smile found it's way to your face.

"dear?" you spoke. or, more correctly, tried to speak. your voice sounded croaky and quiet, like it had been through a grater.

he jolted awake, foggy eyes darting around the room before landing on you.

eyes suddenly clear as day, their mouth hung open.

"Y/N?!" they shouted.

he immediately dove for your hand, holding it in his own and checking your pulse with the other, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"oh, fuck! i should call a nurse," they laughed; a delighted, shocked, lovely laugh.

"toast, i—"

BANG! a nurse comes into the room, drowning out anything you were going to tell them.

after hours of tests and waiting and resting you finally got a moment alone with your partner.

it felt like it had been forever. actually, you had been told it was only a few days that you were out. but hell if that had a baring on how you felt.

speaking of how you felt... well. there was a lot on your mind, to say the least.

you had just woken up from a short coma after a failed rescue mission, all types of injured and wounded. there was no logical way that you could have rescued the victim. your medical bills would be through the roof. but most of all, you didn't know how to even begin to explain this to toasty.

as they say, there's no time like the present. because in the present, he was asking you what's on your mind.

"honey? you alright?" they gently asked again after you failed to respond the first time.

"ah, um. well," you started, throat feeling much better than before.

"i haven't been... entirely honest about my career." you admitted shamefully, refusing to meet their eyes. this wasn't how you wanted them to find out.

he raised his eyebrows, silently prompting you to continue.

"i am — was? — a... vigilante of sorts. it was organized, not just some hobby. i was paid, full time obviously." you took a breath in. you were avoiding what you clearly needed to talk about. you exhaled.

"that's why i wound up here. usually i never get injured like this! this was the first time that a hospital was necessary," you realized every word that left your mouth sounded worse and worse.

"i swear i just, i got careless and—" your breath hitched when you look up to your lover's face.

their eyes were filled to the brim with tears, a few spilling down their cheeks as they inched closer and closer to you, so clearly wanting to embrace you but struggling to do it in a way that wouldn't hurt you.

the sight was enough to break your heart.

you couldn't resist stepping in, leaning your head on his shoulder as you felt sobs begin to wrack their body. you wrapped your free arm around them, holding them as tight as you could.

they went to place their hand in several different spots before resting on the back of your head, pulling you closer. they pressed their lips to the crown of your head in a sweet kiss.

you stood like that, holding each other for a long while before having a seat on the bed.

"i should start from the beginning of the mission that caused, you know," you gestured to yourself, "this."

you began to painfully explain what happened to you, each memory like pulling teeth for the both of you.

once you finished your recollection (after going on several tangents), you braced yourself for the worst. you knew he would never yell or fight, but somehow silence seemed worse. you couldn't help but fret.

"i love you, and i was so so so scared. god, i am so glad you're okay." they breathed, each word dripping with emotion.

"...well, as okay as you can be." he added with an entertained glint in his eye and a huff. it was very like him.

all your worry was for naught.

sure, you would need to talk more about this. it would take time. but it was okay. you were okay.

time had passed, you broke down, but nothing had changed.

you still had each other.

— nightowl

your boyfriend was bouncing his leg anxiously, face resting on his hand as he stares off into space. it was clear he hadn't slept well, if at all, for who knows how long.

something had went horribly wrong, and he was fretting over what he didn't know. things you might not even know. you had to do something. you went to reach your hand out towards him, before realizing you had an IV drip.

"babe?" you managed to call before breaking into a coughing fit. it was as if your throat had dried like paint on a wall.

owl watched, eyes open just as wide as his mouth. not word left him, only a long stretch of uncanny silence.

nurses rushed in, but his silence was the loudest thing in the room.

test after test followed check up after check up before you finally could rest.

rest, and finally see your boyfriend.

thin white sheets lay over your body, arm in a cast and bandages wrapped around several separate injuries.

after the quiet of your waking, you could not be sure how he would react. you knew he loved you no matter what, but you couldn't help but imagine the worst. your mind raced, spiraling and spiraling, until—

the door opened with a click, and just like that nightowl was on top of you, squeezing you so tight you could feel all of your injuries and bruises resurfacing.

"Y/N!" he wailed, hot tears seeping into your robe.

"i, i was so worried," he let out between sobs.

you pat his back as well as you could before groaning out a small "my ribs..."

he immediately jumped back, cupping your face and turning it this way and that to make sure no bruises were there before pressing an overeager kiss to your lips. your teeth clashed together, before breaking apart into laughter.

"you're okay," he gasped.

"i'm so relieved." he teared up again, taking your (not broken) hand in his.

you brought it to your lips, giving the back of his hand a gentle kiss. his mushy smile grew, before immediately forming a frown.

"and i'm so mad at you! why didn't you tell me something was wrong? that you were in danger?" he half-pleaded, half lectured, voice a perfect combination of sternness and desperation.

now your eyes were teary, squeezing his hand.

"i..." you started, struggling to find the words.

owl gave an encouraging hand squeeze back.

you began an explanation, starting with your real job and going through how you got injured. owl nodded along, intertwining your fingers part way through.

by the end he was crying again.

"why... why didn't you tell me?" he asked. he sounded more tired and understanding than anything else.

"i didn't want you to worry." you mumbled, realizing how silly you sounded. and boy, did he make sure you knew it as he lectured you.

you pulled him down to the bed, a grin on your face. he was still himself. you kissed his cheek, giggling as he stopped talking and turned pink.

"i love you. thank you for worrying about me and... for being here." you smiled, stroking his hand with your thumb.

"of course i was here!" he exclaimed, as if you just thanked him for breathing.

"i love you more." he said, finally relaxing into your touch.