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blublublujk · 11 months ago

Text

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier.

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall.

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless.

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do.

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss.

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?”

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love.

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you?

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life.

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes.

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment.

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call.

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it.

He won't.

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over?

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his.

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick?

A white lie never hurt anyone.

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings.

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy.

The flirting turned to one thing, then another.

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth.

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.”

Yoongi just laughed.

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?”

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much.

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want.

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much.

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch.

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t.

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door.

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?”

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined.

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries?

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again.

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?”

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides.

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area.

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?”

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside.

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.”

He did research? Double fuck!

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time.

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief.

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought?

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask.

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question.

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too.

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well.

Why not you? It’s always going to be you.

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break.

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you.

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand.

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.”

Kiss.

“For?”

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss.

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.”

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all.

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch.

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you.

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all.

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.”

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different.

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks.

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble.

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty.

“I-I don’t know.”

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel.

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop.

Not when you start whining against his lips.

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch.

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button.

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?”

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses.

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.”

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation.

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too.

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more.

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?”

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you.

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too.

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi.

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot.

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds.

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower.

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles.

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey.

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.”

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you.

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t.

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser.

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by.

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls.

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him.

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity.

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.”

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him.

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.”

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.”

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.”

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions.

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him.

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out.

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created.

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man.

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can.

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly.

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night.

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him.

“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this.

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing.

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self.

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?”

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.”

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace.

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep.

“You can.”

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.”

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream.

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged.

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup.

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.”

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed.

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm.

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back.

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal.

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all.

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love.

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

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nhoirr · 9 months ago

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𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖑𝖑

— 𝔖𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰

drabbles. “GOJO HOURS."

“LOVESICK LOVER — !” : When he's away from you.

GOJO SATORU is not a patient man, especially when he's kept long time away from you.

'I miss you,' 13:42

your phone dings with a message you've been anticipating all this while, all this afternoon you spent fidgeting in place; waiting for something, or well—someone.

'i'll come home soon.' 13:43

the message rings out from a sender that was no other than your lover—GOJO SATORU, who seems to have been impatient at work; he's been gone for less than an hour, though you couldn't blame him when you felt the same.

'I want to be with you." 13:43 — not even two seconds later, your phone gets bombarded with messages.

Often it would be like this when he's gone, busy with exorcising curses.. hours to days of no contact, to sudden barrages of messages come in endless downpour; you couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd say — 'I want to come home.' every time, and every moment he has.

its silly, how he makes the butterflies burst in your stomach. You wonder how he feels so near when he's so far—perhaps distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

'Hey, don't leave me on read!' 13:45

At his reminder, you can't help but imagine him saying this. Bickering about your imprudence to dare leave him on read, you quickly tap away at your phone.

—'take care of yourself,' wouldn't be much too cliche to say right..? should you be adding anything more? it felt like your message was too short, maybe you should throw in a—'ill wait for you.' too, in there.

.. okay maybe too much—you internally cringe at your own words, attempting to delete the message.

Though unfortunately, your finger slips to press send a bit too hastily, not even given a chance to delete the message when he's seen it in a heartbeat; you could only close your eyes and pray he wouldn't tease it out of you all day, he wouldn't let you live this down.

at long last—your phone dings and you couldn't help the curiosity, peeking reluctantly at what he had to say.

'I don't think I can wait.' 13:50

but you could guess he probably won't be able to come home tonight; he probably has a lot to finish, he wont be home anytime soon..

so.. that makes you wonder, during this time of night—just when you were about to close your eyes..

"who.." Theres sudden motion, noise of shuffling before the sheets slowly dip and you sink into the softness of the bed. Although your eye lips felt heavy, you peel open your eyes—the blurred figure of a man answers with his voice, "Are you asleep yet?" he—the familiar voice of a man you've been waiting for all day, whispers in your ear.

He hovers above you, leaning over so much that the bed creaks, "Don't sleep on me, sweetheart." he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, another one to your neck—till he littered your body, every inch of your skin his lips could find; his lips latches on to you, as if a leech.

and one last time, he presses a long kiss to the side of your lips—as if asking for you to wake up through your groggy state of mind.

"keep your pretty eyes open for me, will ya?"

through your hazy vision, you could make out that charming smile of his that you've engraved into your mind—the image of a man you love so dearly, your heart treasures so.

and you know he loves you too—just as much.

your phone dings with his last text you never got to read before he came home—

'I love you.' 24:59

your impatient lover probably couldn't wait another day to come home, not when you were waiting for him—not when he'd miss your welcome greeting, not when he still hadn't kissed you goodnight.

and god, that was all he could always think of when you're not in his moment of sight.

'I'm coming home.' 00:09

how unfortunate, that the moment you wake in the morning after, you would never get the chance to read this message.

©NHOIRR — DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE NOR PLAGIARIZE ANY OF MY WORKS!

[📨] — Yes I'm working on the series, but i've been thinking about this scenario for a while.. I had to get it out of my head somehow.

<-. come back to navigation?

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noneorother · 1 year ago

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The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2, Hangs on a double meaning - Answering why .5 + .5 = 25 lazerii *The end?*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The end?

Welcome to the end of the Bonkers Meta Series featuring your favourite Art Director/Clue detective. This is it! I'm going to wrap up this series as well as I can with what I think really happened, the final 15 and why Crowley says the things he says. Meta, Spoilers, Beware! All that. “Armageddon only happens once, you know. They don't let you go around again until you get it right.”

If you've read my Metatron post you'll know that I thought there were *at least* two time loops with tweaks to achieve different outcomes, seeing as we seemed to be presented with two versions of events a lot of the time, two similar lines of dialogue, double meanings for lines etc etc. If you want a really good recap of a lot of the Clues that have already been compiled already you can go through them here. Yesterday I added my own : The columns in front of the bookshop get stained by a demon, and the stain stays and goes. But why do we care?

Here's my final thesis using the context I'll put together below :

The Metatron is changing the past and the present on earth using the book of life. He's forced a time loop of the last few days at least 50 times over a period of (realtime) months to get the outcome he wants : the separation of Aziraphale and Crowley to allow him to complete the second coming. It only worked once. Let me explain.

1) Not time skips, but stitched loops

My theory about the columns goes like this : a demon touches the right column in the attack on the bookshop, and dirties it. The problem is, in every episode we get multiple versions of the column that are dirtier or cleaner. Why? Because a demon has been touching that column in *more or less* the same place and getting it dirty over time, but the effects on the bookshop only layer every loop and reset, instead of being erased. The layering aspect is super important and I'll get back to it. For now, if we take it that the column gets dirtier over many loops, we now know what we are seeing : a bunch of different time loops stitched together to create a sense of time moving forward in a way that we can understand the story, but that skip forward and backward through the loops. Cleaner column = earlier loop. Here's discussion about clock hands if you want evidence, some even saying the hour hand seems to be going backwards in the first episode or the last, or even that the minute and hour hands must be backwards to make sense. If we think of time skipping ever forward and actions getting deleted (as some have said), then clocks going backwards makes no sense. But if we think about it as a time loop where things and actions are ever being tweaked and changed, then OF COURSE the times won't make sense anymore. People don't show up at the same time if they don't do the same thing they did before. The biggest time discrepancies I've seen in a single scene are A) Crowley's phone and watch being an hour apart in S2E1 and B) Inside the bookshop between Gabriel's fly flashback in S2E6 and him and Beez holding hands, there's an hour difference on the clock. I think that by the time we get to very late loops, some things are happening up to an hour later in the day. A simple example we are shown up top is the Eccles cakes. They are there in the first part of S2E1, but then they are no longer there somewhere along the way. In the first loop we see an ordering action/receiving Eccles cakes action, which takes *longer* than just not doing that and going straight to the shop, so that loop will be slightly later. It gets infinitely more complicated the more loops you are looking at, and we have at least 50 of them. How do I know that?

2) A 25 lazerii miracle

If we know that effects on the bookshop are cumulative and don't reset (because columns), then let's try this idea on for size : Aziraphale and Crowley have been performing the same half miracles on the same spot for 50+* loops, and each times they are layering and getting stronger. .5 demon + .5 angel = .5 angelic miracle x 50*ish loops = 25 lazerii miracle goes off in heaven on the latest loop. Shax then confronts Crowley in his car about a mighty miracle, so we're in a loop here where we've layered quite a lot, but not the last loop because he still has the original glasses/ *but also* Crowley's sideburns are long. Compare it to the scene directly after, and how sunny and bright it is. We're in a later loop and and earlier loop simultaneously.

3) Crowley's been testing So I've been searching for a *reason* that Crowley wears a turtleneck in S2E2 and thren new glasses and changes sideburns, and he seems to be up to some pretty crafty spy stuff, seeing as 1) he seems thrilled by it, and 2) he won't shut up about it (How will our hero cope? Jane Austen, nasty piece of work, master spy) There's also this Clue :

Crowley has a secret, as we know everyone with their hands deliberately in their pocket does in the series. I think Crowley knows before Aziraphale that something is wrong, because he's getting little snippets of memory and feeling, and so he's going off to try and change things about himself, the Bentley and the shop to remind himself in the next loop and leave himself clues or change outcomes if he fails to escape. In the early loops it seems like a fun spy mission, but by the end he's pretty tired and jaded that he doesn't seem to be making any headway on his own.

It *also* explains him throwing books and canapés on the floor in the bookshop to see if it changes in other versions. The problem being that Gabriel keeps cleaning everything up and reorganizing the titles to Crowley can't tell if it's his system or not. (lolsob)

It makes this line seem like he can't fit the loop pieces together anymore, and is trying to make headway without any information, rather than a pre-fall reference.

And this line probably much later in the loops (New sunglasses, long sideburns) :

Okay so! To recap : Everyone gets reset every time, and they make different choices because of past and present edits. But, most heavenly and hellish things don't obey earth laws, and therefore things like miracles start layering, and memories start seeping through the loops. (Point 4 is optional but absolutely hilarious, so I'd like to think it's worth speculating about)

4. The flaw in The Metatron's plan

There's a huge flaw in The Metatron's plan however, and it's that Heaven and Hell don't work like earth does. He's spent so many loops trying to get the result he wants, that he doesn't know that something crazy is *also* happening in hell. Every loop, Shax is emptying out the legions of demons until they barely have enough low level lackeys to go up at all. Hell is understaffed because no new people come into hell in the loop from earth, and they're sending all the demons that aren't subject to the reset into battle. This isn't a negotiation, it's a montage.

So the attack on the bookshop isn't one attack, but waves, and the waves get less powerful each loop. Stitched loops would also explain why Shax now hands Crowley his mail again in the last attack after *just* handing it to him on the park bench, like, 4 days ago in an earlier loop.

I don't have evidence for this directly, but if The Metatron put Maggie together with Nina successfully only in the last few loops, then she's fighting in the bookshop only a few times, and doesn't invite the demons in any other times, which might be why the only evidence is the column, and not books being ruined. But, it might also explain why the demon Eric gets discorporated a bunch of times in a row, he's doing it later and later in each loop. (These are kind of contradictory thoughts, I know.)

5. Aziraphale realizes too late. When I wrote part 4 of this series I was pretty awed by the fact that Aziraphale managed to figure out the Metatron was rewriting things after only hearing him say ONE LINE of dialogue. However after more thought, I think that he's been getting close to the truth a bunch of times by communicating with Crowley in previous loops. In each successive loop he tells Crowley later and later, and it's been getting them reset as punishment each time they figure it out together. By the end they barely communicate at all, because they can feel the danger. Watch his reaction here, in what we can assume is a *very late or last loop (because of the time on the clock)*

He stops himself from interrupting and telling Crowley something important he's just realized : that he's seen Gabriel and Beez get together before. "I know what this means..." 6. Saraqael is helping both sides without them knowing We see Saraquael helping Crowley immediately with the trial when she finds him in heaven. Why would she help Crowley without having ever met him before as a demon? The exchange of "Crowley I remember you, we worked on the Hosehead nebula together" and "I meet a lot of people, (*he doesn't say* I don't remember you)" is a code. They are both trying to communicate what they remember like spies on a bench in St.James park. Who recognizes who, who's trying to stop this madness. Maybe once Crowley gets to heaven this time he's seen multiple trials with multiple endings, and Saraquael has seen them too, I don't really know. BUT she's also communicating with Aziraphale at one point. Look at Saraqael in this scene again about the 25 lazerii miracle. She *remembers the book slap* and then the *looks* at Aziraphale in regards to Gabriel.

Yeah Gabriel, IT NEVER F*&?%ING WORKS IN ANY LOOP SO STOP DOING IT. - Saraquel, probably. Are Saraqael and Aziraphale testing later/earlier in the loops as well? Is this when the miracle was weaker? Who knows! 7. The Metatron job offer was many, many offers

It's really hard to tell with all the pieces of the puzzle moving around, but I think I can count 7 job refusal loops by Aziraphale in the last fifteen minutes. Here's a summary 1) Chinwag with Crowley in the room 2) We should go for a walk instead, here's a coffee 3) You don't have to answer immediately 4) Go tell you friend the good news (This is the important one), it's the last one where he tries to convince Crowley to come with him 5) I need to take care of my bookshop 6) The Metatron puts Muriel in charge of the bookshop, but Aziraphale wants to take something with him 7) Aziraphale straight up runs out to Crowley with "I think I-" 4, again) The Metatron takes him out of the bookshop. "Ready to start"?

Trying to screenshot all that would be insane, so just go rewatch it with all this in mind, and look at how the lighting changes inside of the bookshop and the jump cuts to different angles, and how his face resets every time. It's HEARTBREAKING. 8. The argument

I'm so blown away by the acting and writing (as well as the art direction) in this show, and it all comes to a head in the final argument. Many important lines have double meanings in series 2, because everyone is trying to speak in secret code to not get caught. Especially in the final loops.

In the last loops, we have an Aziraphale who is moving ever closer towards accepting the Metatron's offer, with the straw that broke the camel's back being he could restore Crowley as an angel**/save him; and Crowley who is moving ever farther away, by having to hide all of his Clue gathering, and confiding less and less to Aziraphale in each loop.

Check out the double meanings going on in this whole exchange if you consider that they are trying to save each other using secret codes neither one of them can hear. It's so shattering. Especially when you consider they've probably made it to this argument at least twice, and Crowley convinced him the first time. Why do I say that, you ask? 9. No Nightingales

Because I think Crowley remembers a loop where A Nightingale Sang was playing when they kissed, and Aziraphael didn't leave, but he knows they aren't in that version anymore. 10) I'm a demon, I lied. I'll probably post more abut the secondary characters because Shax, Furfur, Michael, Uriel and Nina etc all have roles to play, but for now, this is it.

----------------------------------------- Thanks so much for reading the gigantic post. If you disagree with my thoughts, or think this is terribly wrong, that's totally fine! I won't be offended. Without a real season 3, everything is just ether. Fingers crossed. I'd also like to thank The Ineffable Detective Agency, @embracing-the-ineffable, @cobragardens, @indigovigilance, @yowlthinks and more for inspiring me and feeding my brain with posts. *Loop numbers could actually be 25+ if you think that .5 demon mircales + .5 angelic miracles pour register as 1 whole miracle in heaven, I just didn't want to go into that in the main review. **The Metatron's meddling in the past seems to me trying very much to highlight to Aziraphale how *good* and righteous Crowley is, despite being a demon, in order to convince Aziraphale that joining him in heaven is a real possibility, and he should push for it.

#good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens prime #good omens season two #go meta #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #go3 #good omens spoilers #stitchedloop #good omens season 3 predictions

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fancybendyboi · 3 months ago

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✧𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝑜✧

Welcome! Stating now this Blog has 3 AUs First - Elegance in Fancy Ink (This AU is based on the Fashion designer and Actor Fancy - Formally known as Bendy) Characters Available for asks: Fancy, Alice, Bo(Boris) Second - Escape the Studio (This AU is based on the Ink world coming into our own - turning people into toons and the world cartoony with the help of the Ink Demon under the name of Sin with the nephew of Joey Drew, Nathan Drew) -This AU does not connect with Beyond the Studio but not until later in the future- Characters Available for asks: Sin, Nathan, Beast(????) Third - Beyond the Studio (This AU is based on a play off of the second AU but Nathan had attempted to escape from Sin and the world he knew and ended up in a completely different world unable to get back and he is taller) -This AU connects with Elegance in Fancy Ink- Characters Available for asks: Nathan and Wane

ASK/QUESTIONS RULES

The ask box is currently Open but please read the rules below before continuing to send in an ask!

Rules:

Please be respectful to the characters, AUs, and stories, even if they don't line up with your ideas. (There is no need to be rude?)

Anonymous asks are welcome and should be turned on!

You are allowed to interact with my characters but please make sure to submit a reference to said character! (I may draw them!)

Do not harm any characters unless we talked about the possibility!

Please do not force a relationship on my characters, none of them are looking for a relationship, even then it will be only open to mutuals.

Please do not force yourself/your character onto my characters i.e Kissing, hugging, or cuddling unless we are mutuals(follow each other) - Nathan is open for hugs from anyone / Fancy will sanitize you if you try -

If you ask Fancy to judge your outfit then that is on you and the mod holds no responsibility for his blunt responses if he doesn't like it. (This will not be based on mods opinion but as a character who is pretty stuck up)

18+ Asks are welcome but not graphic, if they get to the point of...nsfw, they will be deleted

DO NOT SPAM MY INBOX IF I DO NOT GET TO YOUR ASK (this is a fun blog and I will get to it)

DO NOT STEAL, TRACE OR REPOST MY ART.

That's it! Thank you all for reading! and good luck!

#out of fancy ink #ooc #BATIM AU #Bendy AU #Welcome Post #escape the studio au #escape the studio #Beyond the Studio #Beyond the Studio AU #Elegance in Fancy Ink #Elegance in Fancy Ink AU

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onepiece-polls · 8 months ago

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One Piece Crack Ship War - Submission post!

Welcome to the One Piece Ship War - crack edition!

What is a crack ship?

A crack ship is a (in this case romantic/sexual) ship that has little to no basis in canon.

When will my ship qualify for this tournament?

They will automatically qualify (after having been submitted) when:

The characters involved have NO canon interaction*, and are not part of the same crew (no matter how popular the ship is).

The characters involved have 1 short canon interaction and less than 10 fics for them on AO3 (as a side pairing counts too)

They might qualify if:**

They have no canon interaction but are part of the same crew or organisation.

They have 1 short canon interaction but more than 10 fics on AO3

They have 1 long canon interactions or 2/3 short ones and less than 10 fics on AO3

They have multiple canon interactions but NO fics on AO3

It's an incredibly funny ship (but you gotta convince me it's crack!)

These ships will not qualify on principal:

ANY ship between Strawhats (honorary Strawhats don't count if they haven't met a certain Strawhat - examples: BrookNami does not qualify, SanjiVivi does not qualify, but BrookVivi would qualify)

The top 25 ships (or something, be sensible) on AO3.

*canon interactions include fillers, cover stories, specials, and movies (though I haven't seen the last 2 yet and I don't remember much of the other ones, so these might slip through, but I'm counting on you to honor this rule). Also, I won't know nor check interactions in the manga (that haven't been animated yet), so something might slip through there as well. Just honor the rules, please.

**Any ships in the 'might qualify' category will be judged on crackyness by me first, and when I'm in doubt, I will put them up for a vote - so expect a few polls for this.

Rules!

All characters must be from One Piece (no OCs).

Must be a crack ship according to above guidelines.

Ships that were in the previous shipping war tournament are allowed in this one too, as long as they follow the previous rule.

No moral limitations. These are fictional characters, not real people. Go wild. (But be prepared for 'problematic' ships to be voted out in round 1 or 2.) I will not start discourse/moral discussions about any ships! (messages about morally questionable ship are likely to be ignored and deleted)

Poly ships are allowed! I will cap them at 5 characters, however, and at least 1 character should follow the interaction rules stated above. (examples: JinbeRobinBrook or KidLawLu are not allowed. RobinNamiKiller would be allowed, on grounds of Killer having no interactions with the other 2 (I think? 😂)) Again, be sensible here.

All characters involved have to be humanoid. No concepts, objects, or full animals (fishmen/merfolk, minks, and Chopper are allowed).

You can submit multiple ships, but use a new form for each ship.

Do not hate on other ships, just support your own.

You are allowed and encouraged to submit fanart! As a lot of these ship won't have official art with all characters in it, it will come down to fanart for the most of it ((bad) edits are also very much allowed). However, it needs to be your own or you need permission from the artist before submitting it! However, if you haven't gotten permission yet when submitting, you can always send me a link to the fanart later. Without picture submitted, there might be a chance your ship will have to compete without a picture.

Keep the main images SFW and spoiler free. Propaganda can contain nsfw stuff and manga spoilers, as long as it's announced up front (eg: [Spoilers ahead]/[nsfw ahead])

Submit only through the google form below. Submisions through asks or reblogs will not be accepted.

Read the rules? Go ahead and submit those ships! (<you can click on that)

Oh yeah, and in case you're wondering... All submitted ships that pass the crack ship bar will make it into the tournament! No limitation on how many contestants there will be or how many submissions a ship needs. I want this to be an opportunity for all to discover new fun and silly ships!

Closing date is april 8 at 10AM CET.

#one piece #tournament #ship war #op crack ship war #submission form #sorry for the long post but I feel like this needs a lot of clarifications #I might change some details later if something comes up in asks but this is it for now #as always don't hesitate to send an ask if anything is unclear/you're in doubt about anything

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starlight-writer · 1 year ago

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Randomly Cuddling Them

A/n: Hahaha hiiii (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）it's meeeee I'm baaaaack In all seriousness, I've been dealing with a shit ton of stuff and summer depression is kicking my ass. I'm sorry I haven't posted in ages even when I promised I would, I just haven't been able to motivate myself to write. I won't promise you guys a schedule or another fic anytime soon, but I will say that I have no intentions of deleting this blog or stopping writing all together. Just be patient with me and to those who have requested things, I'm sorry I haven't answered them. They'll all come in due time :) In the meantime, have some fluff to make you forget about your depression.

Warnings: none, fluff, slight angst(?)

Gn Reader Masterlist

Steven

Welcomes the cuddle with open arms

He'll ask if you’re ok a few times, just wanting to make sure his darling is feeling well

He'll pet your hair and start talking about his day or a new book he's read to fill the silence

"You wouldn't believe the ending though! The main character has to sacrifice his "

Just sort of talks about anything to fill the comfortable silence, hoping it'll distract you from anything that's stressing you out

Definitely playfully brags to Jake and Marc in the headspace during and after the cuddles

"They wanted to cuddle with me :D"

Once you're ready to pull away, he'll give you a kiss on the forehead and continue reading or whatever it was before, but keeps an eye on you

He isn't sure what brought on the cuddles, and while he loves them, he wants to make sure you're ok

If you start looking upset or frustrated with a task, he'll gently pull you away from whatever you're doing and sit you on the couch

"Lovey, you can finish it later, just sit with me for a bit yeah?"

He'll pull you into his chest and read aloud from his book or ramble about something to distract you

He'll play with your fingers, interlacing them and kissing your finger tips before holding your hand to his face

"Love you, darling"

He'll say in the sweetest voice, you'll forget all about the stresses of the day or the stresses of tomorrow

Mission accomplished

Marc

He's a little caught off guard, but pulls you into his arms eagerly

He'll never turn down cuddles (cough touch starved cough)

He'll run his fingers through your hair or rub his hand up and down your back

He'll ask if you're ok, but won't push past that

He'll stay silent unless you ask him to talk

"Uh... I saw a lizard earlier today. It reminded me of you cause it was cute :)"

He's trying his best

If you stay in his arms for a long period of time, he'll start to think something might be wrong so he'll start making really really bad jokes

"I went to the deli earlier and the sausage they gave me was the wurst :D"

He won't stop until you laugh and he's not above tickling you until you pee your pants

It's like he unlocks a little box inside his head of terrible jokes and playfulness just for the purpose of seeing you smile

After the cuddles session, he'll watch over you carefully

If you start looking stressed or tired or anything but relaxed, he'll pop off with another joke

"Ya know, babe, I used to hate facial hair. But then it grew on me."

Is that a frown on your perfect lips? Not on his watch

"I don't think I told you this before, but I used to be able to play piano by ear. Now I have to play it with my hands."

Eventually, if you start looking too stressed, he'll just pull you into another cuddle session

"Can't have my baby getting stressed."

He'll explain, kissing you on the forehead and shushing you if you try to leave

He'll carry you to bed or the couch, locking you underneath him with his head on your chest

"So comfy, might just fall asleep here."

He snores loudly, trying to coax a giggle or two out of you

And when you fall asleep from the warmth he gives off, he'll watch you with love in his eyes

"Goodnight, babe. I love you."

Jake

There're two ways this could go depending on how he feels

He could be very smug about it, hold you tightly to his chest, mutter things like 'poor bebito/a, so needy for their Papi~' and make sexual or teasing jokes to lighten the mood

Or he could hold you securely in his arms, run his fingers across your back, occasionally kiss your head, and ask in a hushed voice 'what's wrong, mi amor?'

He thrives on physical affection, so either way he's incredibly happy to give it to you

Whether it be a quick kiss, setting his hand on the small of your back as he walks by, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives, or just touching your knee with his in a crowded space, he loves all of it

And depending on why you suddenly held onto him, he'll be very attentive

If he's making jokes when you just want to be held, he'll pick up in it right away and mutter a small apology with a kiss

He'll hum a song he heard on the radio, he'll keep his breathing long and slow to help calm you down if needed, he'll even read you one of Steven's 'boring' books

He's like Marc in a way, they'll both do absolutely everything in their power to make you smile or laugh if the situation calls for it

If you've gotten your fill of cuddles and start to pull away, he'll pout and pull you back down, muttering something about feeling cold without you on top of him

Which is a lie, they run extremely hot which has cancelled many cuddle sessions in the summer because 'It's too hot, Jake! And don't give me those puppy eyes!'

He refuses to let you go until you explicitly tell him you want him to

He'll act all sad, but he lets you go after a passionate kiss

Openly watches you closely afterwards, determined to see any slip of annoyance or frustration so he can whisk you away to your shared room and cuddle the stress away

And the second your brow twitches in frustration, he's coming up behind you and hugging you

"Bebito/a, dance with me."

He'll say, already swaying to the music playing in his head

He'll spin you around and subtly drag you away from the chore or work you were doing with a charming smile and his swaying hips

When you've rested your head on his chest and sigh softly, following the shuffling of his feet and sway of his hips, he knows he's succeeded in calming you down

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #marvel #jake lockley #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x gn!reader #marc spector x gn!reader #steven grant x gn!reader #starlight writes

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yuadokjon · 10 months ago

Text

know your place, fool

summary: you had dared to break up with sukuna. via text. and now you face the consequences.

-----

You teetered back and stammered, "D-did you see my text? I said I want to brea-"

Sukuna cut you off with a dismissive wave, "Answer my question, sweetheart."

"I already did," you shot back, feeling somewhat brave. The hand that had snuck quietly behind the door now balled into an angry fist. Your shock and fear seemed to melt away as your forgotten rage ignited within you. Was that really important right now? Was he really showing up at your doorstep out of the blue an hour after having read your breakup text, no excuses, no explanation, no effort to engage? Did he think you were joking? He infuriated you.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed at your cryptic counter for a spell before widening again, and he barked with laughter, causing you to jump. You could see the glint of the round piercing perfectly centered in the inked sigil within his mouth bouncing along with his laughs. He swiveled a finger towards himself in feigned surprise then feigned pouting hurt, "Oh, me? Me? I'm the asshole?"

"You're so funny, sweetheart," he praised sarcastically, and you grimaced. He repeated pet names like that only when he was really pissed. Only his eyes hinted at how little humor he truly found in this situation at all. He honestly did not know what he found more adorable -- your dumb comebacks or, eyeing the tiny fists on either side of your body, that you thought you could fight your way out of this. His laughs soon died away, and your blood ran cold from the silence that replaced it. Like icicles, hanging heavily over your head. Ready to drop and skewer you at any given moment. Your earlier cowardly emotions came rushing back with a vengeance to wrest control from your smoldering anger. He took another step, which you paralleled without thinking, and crossed over the threshold. A casual kick from Sukuna later, and the door swung back into its frame with a loud bang. There went your escape route.

"Be serious," his voice low, "Who were you expecting?"

"L-listen, can we jus--?"

"I thought I told you to delete the number of every guy you know except me," he continued over you.

"Sukun--"

"You know I don't like when you do that."

"It was just Chos--"

His hand shot out and shoved itself into your mouth, pinching your tongue between his nails. Hard. You yelped.

"So forgetful. What else did I tell you?" Sukuna ran a hand through his pink hair and tutted at your pitiful yowls, "I despise another man's name coming out of that pretty mouth. I could rip out your tongue right now." *

You felt his fingers twitch to emphasize his point. You thought you tasted iron. He stretched out his free hand towards you, and you shakily dropped your phone into the awaiting palm. He released your tongue and tapped the top of your head with a smile, pleased at how well he had trained his girl. So smart! Yet so very, very stupid. He wiped his saliva-coated fingers up and down your cheeks until clean and cocked his head to the side as he pored over your notifications. He only had seconds before the phone started to buzz urgently.

"Choso, huh?" he finished your earlier sentence as he read aloud the name that filled the screen, and you held your breath. A brow twitched in irritation. He knew it. The device's desperation rang ignored by Sukuna as he tapped it against his chin, staring up at the popcorned ceiling then down at you deep in thought.

Choso, huh, he echoed in his mind. You thought to call him up? Him? That loser? He was always hanging around you. The droopy mop that eagerly followed around to pick up and clean after you, wicking away what tears you spilled in its presence. Even with all the precautions that he lovingly undertook for you, he still couldn't seem to shake Choso off you. Like a ghost that you welcomed to haunt your every step. And Sukuna knew exactly what he thought of him since the idiot wasn't afraid to hide it from anyone, either. More than once Sukuna wanted to wrench off those ponytails stupidly flaring out from either side of his head, and more than once you had quickly swooped in between the two men before fists or worse flew. He didn't understand what his brother -- or you -- saw in that depressive freak (though he did begrudgingly acknowledged the freak's gall). What a loser. So unhappy with his own life that he felt compelled to seek and corrupt whatever happiness surrounded him. Sad, pathetic, lonely virgin loser.

In fact, it was probably all his fault that you've been acting so strange lately. Knowing how important his friendship was to you, Sukuna, in all his grace, might have turned a blind eye or three here and there whenever the two of you had connected...and this was how the lucky bastard repaid his generosity? Holding the privilege of having your ear while abusing it to whisper such falsities that poisoned him to you? He didn't doubt that Choso was only doing all of this in the hopes of filling what holes that Sukuna presently occupied. And owned. The call soon died while lost in his thoughts, and you breathed a sigh of relief which you would later wonder how -- how could you have possibly believed that he was in any mood to let this go? The edges of his lips curled into a sneer as an idea took root. Guess a reminder was long overdue. For you and Choso both.

"N-no, you can't," you panted weakly and stared up at Sukuna with the most pleading eyes you could muster as you watched him redial. Please. Not him. You already had so few friends left. You couldn't imagine what he had planned, but you were apprehensive of whatever it was that had inspired that expression. He hushed and stroked your hair idly while humming along to the dialing music. Your cells screamed again, begging you to fight, escape, run, move, anything! Now! While he might distracted! But you remained there, frozen to the spot as he played with your locks, more terrified to incur his wrath than to suffer his humiliation. He perked when the tune stopped and turned the phone towards you.

It's for you, he mouthed and draped a hand over his giggling face. You stared back from him to the picture of you and Choso on your screen in disbelief at what was transpiring.

"Hello? Hello?!" You whimpered at the sound of your friend's panicked voice. "Y/N, I am so sorry. Some asshole slashed my tires and --"

"Hey, asshole," Sukuna interrupted and took the phone back, cradling it between his ear and shoulder, "I don't appreciate you hanging around my girl, you creepy fuck."

The other line went silent, broken by a low growl that preceded and permeated the normally soft-spoken speech, "Where is she?"

"Oh," Sukuna turned back to you with a wink followed by his eyes wandering down lower and lower. You suddenly wished you had something more than just an oversized hoodie and pajama shorts on. He continued, "She's doing just fine, don't you worry about her."

"S...stop it," you hoarsely whispered and swatted away his hand before rushing to grab the device a second too late. You pounded his chest as you found your voice again, "Stop it! Get out! I hate you! I HAT--"

You found yourself on the ground and your ears rang, tears springing to your eyes as your entire backside finally registered the pain. What happened? Who was pleading with you and calling your name so many times? He sounded so worried and he so far away...

A tattooed hand was latched onto your face again, forcing down whatever fight you had left in you. You instinctively clawed at the attached arm until Sukuna squeezed your cheeks enough to bruise, and you stopped. The smile returned to his face, and he loosened his viselike grip. Slightly.

"Shh, shh...it's ok," he reassured seemingly to you both and crouched down closer with the phone until you could feel his hot breath descend on your face. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol invaded your nose through the thin window his fingers had left. It brought you fully out of your daze, and you don't know how you missed such a stink before. You cringed but kept your glare on Sukuna steady which only widened his grin. His girl was such a fighter. But the man knew exactly how he could make her lose over and over again until she finally yielded. You would surrender. You would submit. But it would be a bit before you got over your latest tantrum. You just loved to fight him, and he just loved watching you try. He closed his eyes and gave you a cartoonishly loud kiss on the back of his hand that still held you so painfully then snickered delightedly as you fumed. He truly infuriated you.

He moved back in to leave a trail of pecks down your forehead, eyes, cheekbones, jaw, forcefully angling your head all the while to give him more access to your skin. His other hand snaked in to grab a handful of your ass and pull you into him. He paused at your neck, and his eyes briefly flitted up to meet yours before glancing down again. He licked his lips, lingering a little on his canines, then aggressively kissed and sucked away at the back of your neck. He wanted to cover you. Mark you as his in a way that the whole world would know. Your face was already starting to resemble his, the way the reddening lines under his fingers traced your lower jaw and the older ones aligned beneath your eyes. But where else, where else? He had acquired so many tattoos and so many options. Maybe your wrists next? Your shoulders? Your arms, he decided, as you continued to wriggle around. He wrapped his long fingers around your biceps and snapped them to your sides, the phone clattering beside your head. You squeaked. You could feel his digits digging into your bones, violet rings sure to appear the next morning. As much as he loved your spirit, he was beginning to tire of it. How much longer were you going to fight him? He pressed his forehead to yours, his red eyes boring into you with unquestionable demand burning within them: "You be good now, okay? Let us hear your sweet sounds."

He slid down without waiting for any signal from you, as did his hands along the lengths of your arms until they stopped at your wrists and gathered them together overhead. You felt cool wood under your thumbs. He freed one hand to slide your shorts down your legs and took his prized seat between your thighs, hooking your legs over his broad, broad shoulders. You could hear only the drumming of your rabbiting heart that drowned out the hungry sighs that greeted your inner thighs. He knelt down and pushed his nose into your hidden entrance and inhaled deeply, even closing his eyes to better worship the scent. Oh, how he missed this. You just smelled so damned good. The best. And Sukuna only deserved the best. Of course he wasn't going to let you get away. He gnawed at the hem of your underwear, his fangs grazing your skin, until he found purchase and jerked it back. As your exposed warmth met the cold air, you reflexively shut your legs around him, which he easily parried with a loud smack of his palm. He smirked.

"Be good now," he reminded before prying your legs apart again and tossing your underwear aside with a fling of his fingers. Finally. He ran a long slobbering stripe up your cunt, the grooves of his titanium barbell rumbling through every dip and rise within your walls. You shuddered, suppressing the noise that threatened to escape out of you. He hummed at your subdued reaction to his test. He took another experimental lick down and your feet arched against air, though you prevailed through another strangled bout of sounds. He wasn't even upset. Fight as you might against your higher instincts, your baser ones exposed you for the whore you were. You amused him so much.

"Nuh uh, doll," he sighed, "What did I say?"

Maddening. You could just slap that stupid grin off his stupid, fucking face. If you could see him past the gathered folds of your hoodie, that is. At some point, Sukuna had pushed it up to expose your breasts as well and obstruct your view. Not being able to monitor whatever he was doing down below only served to heighten your sensitivity. All you could glimpse was the shock of pink hair and nothing below, but you could guess as much -- he was enjoying the shit out of torturing you like this.

He took a few more careful licks before plunging fully into you and contorting his pierced tongue expertly around every point he knew you to be extra vulnerable. You couldn't breathe. You didn't dare to, because you knew that would mean the end. It was taking your entire energy and focus -- what little of both you had left -- to not release any of the noises that were choking your throat. But you were losing your resolve as fast as you felt something inside you build and build. And build. You furrowed your brows. Oh god.

You couldn't. Choso. You were so sorry, Choso.

You gasped and rivers of increasingly loud nonsense streamed through your lips, sometimes punctuated by coherent phrases but most times flooded with just animalistic mewls and moans as you writhed and bucked your hips into Sukuna's jaws. His hand still pinned your wrists together overhead, the only part of your body that didn't seem to be squirming about. You prayed that the phone beside you couldn't pick up any of the babbling involuntarily coming out of you or that Choso had hung up a long time ago. It had been silent for a while. But you were also starting to care less and less as everything except the feeling of the powerful thick muscle violating your insides faded away into oblivion. Oh, how you missed this. He just fucked you so damned well. The best. And didn't you deserve the best as his woman? Of course you weren't going to leave him. You felt that something snap, and you gushed into your boyfriend's expectant mouth that greedily devoured all, save for the droplets that dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt. He let you down to rest shakily atop his thighs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, beaming down at you: "Good girl!"

You couldn't even hear his praise within your giant hood that had bobbed around earlier and collapsed atop your face. It just rebounded your ragged breaths. And your fight or flight instincts had quieted some time ago, too, though you weren't quite sure when. They were but dull murmurs now, smothered by the absolute ecstasy that came at you in violent waves. You moaned as you came down from your high, dreamily pushing your hips into Sukuna when you felt something hard poke you.

"Hey, what's the matter?" The words drifted into your ears muffled and faint, but you caught the sound of a belt unbuckling and a quiet but unmistakable zip. "You're not finished already, are you?"

"Tell me, sweetheart," he cooed as he switched the phone to his other shoulder and continued louder through his grunts, "What was it you were thinking? You thought we should what? Break up? And you thought to call Choso up, hmm? You thought you would just move on from the best dick you ever had and have a cute little thing with your dear friend Choso? Can bestie Choso make you feel like this?"

He shoved the microphone end in front of your swollen, parted lips. Your phone's screen became cloudier with each gasp and cry that Sukuna pushed out of you with every rock and roll.

"What was that, darling?" he called out from above and stopped.

"N-no no...no," you said in a stupor, half in answer and half in protest. What did he say again? The phone and his questions were already long forgotten in your mind. You didn't even know what the correct answer was but it felt right. You prayed it was, if only to get Sukuna to resume. You whined needily and pressed back into him.

"No," he agreed and ground into you that your heavenly sigh chased after, "this pussy is mine. This pussy was made for me and only me. Nobody else can take me so well except a perfectly molded cockdrunk whore like you."

"Y-yes, Sukuna."

"Whose pussy is this?"

"Yours, Su-suku-na."

"Whose pussy was this made for?"

"On-n-nly you, Su-ku-na!"

"That's right. I'm glad we learned our lesson."

Whatever Sukuna said was right was right, of course. He was always right. As if he read your mind, he rewarded your capitulation with rapid circles around your clit, drawing out even more squeals and affirmative wails of his name.

Your interrogator seemed pleased by your verbal pledges of fealty, but it was the physical ones you wouldn't be able to shy away from that were his real pride and joy. Your body was splattered with his scratches, bruises, red welts, and bites that had accumulated over however long you two had been going at it (he'd check exactly how long on your call log later since he still had to extract the recording app he secretly had installed). He admitted he had gone a shade overboard, the markings resembling nothing of the crisp clean black lines that glided down and around his body. So much for his original plan. But he admired his work nonetheless. The ones who didn't yet know who owned you would soon find out to stay clear away from you anyway. He swore it. He wouldn't be making the same mistake twice as he did with Choso. He retrieved the phone by your drooling face.

"So know your place, fool," he muttered into it one final time before chucking it away.

-----

* this line is taken from 2023 kdrama perfect marriage revenge.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fic #sukuna #choso x reader #choso fic #choso #jjk #fics #wips

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meringuehearts · 8 months ago

Text

my extremely disorganized welcome home theory!!!

this may sound crazy but please hear me out

there are three main points to this, all of which ill elaborate on under the cut!

one of the companies, either marlo or playfellow workshop, clearly tried to make a lot of changes to the show. this includes heavy merchandising, forcing julie/frank to be read as a couple, and cutting eddie from the show.

i think that once a character no longer appears on the air, they are forced into a sort of subliminal bond with their own home, isolating them and making them essentially unable to leave. we see this with eddie's situation.

if all of this is true, i may have a very good idea for the direction in which the story of welcome home will lead.

quick disclaimer beforehand : obviously, our knowledge on this is constantly growing and expanding! this is not my "entire opinion" on the story nor do i think this is the cold hard truth. these are simply my ideas!

in general, i think the idea of the offness coming from anything internal of the show , like the characters or home, is a far stretch .. more likely, it's coming from the people making the show itself.

my theory is that either playfellow workshop or marlo was taking control of the show , probably towards the end of its run, and making massive changes in the interest of maximizing profit. first of all the commercials clips feel off in and of themselves to me, because we can see that they literally partnered with anything in order to sell it. this is most clearly Weird in the sleeping pills wally clip, but also all over - of course this could just be that it was a popular show and wanted to make bank, but personally i think it was one of the companies pushing for more brand deals and more merchandise and more money.

this, of course, leads directly into the eddie/frank situation. as many different people have stated, this was the 1970s, and if there was any ability in the show for them to be read as a couple this could get a ton of backlash. i'm willing to bet that the company tried first of all to push julie/frank to be more easily read as a couple, then later deciding on either diminishing eddie's role a TON or deleting him completely.

and like, think about it. unfortunately, most of the characters don't really harbor any huge friendship towards him, at least not in the clips we've seen. while having positive relations with poppy, julie, frank and wally, he doesn't have as much as an outright "gimmick" or thing to sell as the others.

julie's excitable, sally's theatrical, frank's stubborn, howdy's charismatic, barnaby's funny, poppy's sweet, wally's reserved but polite, and eddie. "talks a lot". if you're an executive and you're going to cut one character from a show, especially in the interest of Not looking like theres Anything gay in your show, which would you choose?

NOW for the second part:

my believe about home, and furthermore all the homes in the series - but more directly Home - is that i think they act as sort of devices that the company can use to manipulate the characters. my theory about the eddie situation in the recent update is that it takes place in the midst of when the company was attempting to cut him from the show.

and when we see eddie in the midst of his breakdown, he's VERY tied to the post office (his home basically). he's isolated and literally states at a point during it that he assumes everyone's outside and playing in the snow, but never makes any attempt to go out and check - as if it doesn't even cross his mind. he expresses some kind of paranoid need to stay at the post office and not leave, even for a moment, which he also talks about in the videos.

when he finally DOES leave for the party, (which, btw, he only does because sally literally grabbed him and brought him there) , he starts seeing all the awful shit he sees (as we know) . INCLUDING HOME. and towards the end of it, all he says to frank is that he wants to go [ to his ] home.

what does all this mean??? im so glad u asked. basically i think that creators' actions upon the show affect the world of welcome home in subliminal ways that the characters aren't directly aware of happening (until, of course, they are.) in this case, if a character is cut from the show or their screen time is limited, they experience being subliminally forced to stay in their own home. if they try to leave, they start witnessing visceral, terrifying things that they can't explain, persuading them to return back home. back where it's "safe".

wally's home in particular, i think, enforces this the most. home is sentient so the company can probably carry out their desires more directly with him than any of the other houses (which are just structures, pretty much). i DON'T think home harbors any ill will themselves, but moreso is just carrying out what "needs to be done."

more evidence for this:

this theory is also entwined with how wally interacts with us, the people on the site, because he mentions in places like the guestbook, etc that he hasn't seen other members of the neighborhood in so long. but that doesn't mean they're not there.

so if a singular being cut from the show means that they are forced to stay in their own home and not go outside, then the show being taken off the air would, in theory, mean that everyone would be forced to stay in their own homes. for decades. wally reaching out to us could very likely be a cry for help and/or last try after years of isolation. (it would also explain why he's so much more off putting/tired/different than his in-show appearances.)

one last thing!!!! i think if that's what's going, on it could explain this sentence from the summary, unchanged since the beginning. i've never really understood this line or what it could mean, but -

this is a HUGE far cry. but i think it's possible that, if i'm right, at some point down the line the characters (still in the neighborhood) will actually try to leave their homes, or they have already, which would cause the "distortion/nightmarish memory". i mean we definitely could describe eddie's hallucination(?) as that so .

yeah i hope you enjoyed 20 minutes of me rambling ... please ask questions if some (or all) of this didn't make sense cuz im not rly sure if this is coherent lol. this also isnt all the thoughts i have about this theory but this post is too long as is lol. thanks so much for reading this far if you have!!!

#i love welcome home. so much guys #welcome home #wally darling #frank frankly #julie joyful #howdy pillar #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #sally starlet #welcome home arg #welcome home theory #:3 #i really hope this made sense

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white-sinner · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome home little brother

Obey me x eight little brother reader

✦✰★✰ ✦✰★✰ ✦✰★✰ ✦✰★✰ ✦✰

we all know that sometimes it's the younger brother who either covers our asses or resolves conflicts (or most of the time he pisses us off) and here's the case send your condolences to the brothers because M/N this time really messed up but maybe this will help the brothers understand each other better?

being the youngest sometimes has advantages such as for example you don't find yourself in stupid arguments between your brothers but today you really couldn't take it anymore and since this morning they have been arguing and now it's almost time to sleep!

this is how the brothers are arguing right now:

M/N: that's enough! I've been putting up with you all morning with these fucking quarrels now stop!

all 7 stopped as if you paused until someone breaks the silence

Levi: It's not my fault that Mammon doesn't give me my money back!

Mammon: Now don't try to blame it all on me!

Satan: the two of them are always less irritating than Lucifer!

in a fraction of a second they were arguing again

M/N: Why don't you try putting yourself in each other's shoes?

Lucifer: as if these six could survive with my sin

Satan: what do you think?! is mine easy?!

from here an idea came to you do you remember that a few weeks ago Solomon gave you a potion that came out wrong you wanted to throw it away but now you have found a use for it

M/N: all seven of you drink this

Beel: What is this?

M/N: a potion of swap all seven of you will trade your sins for a day so you'll figure out how to live with each other's sins for a day

All: perfect so this assholes will understand what I have to live with!

all the brothers drank the potion while you explained what sins they will have: Lucifer will have the sin of Mammon,Mammon that of Lucifer,Levi that of Satan,Satan that of Asmo,Asmo that of Levi and the twins that of the other twin

M/N: ok now go to sleep in the room of which brother you have the sin and tomorrow morning the day will begin swap will begin

In the morning the differences during breakfast could already be seen from the following morning Belphie ate more than usual but much more, Beel sleeps on the table, Satan is looking at himself, Levi it seemed that anything could make him explode the only ones who seemed normal were Asmo, Lucifer and Mammon

everyone at the RAD was confused luckily you had warned Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon and Luke of the situation the night before with a message, Lord Diavolo was very excited to think it was a good opportunity for the brothers to understand each other better (poor naive)

but as soon as you got home later because you had to talk to a professor the scene was..

Mammon:LUCIFER!

Lucifer was hanging on the wall, Mammon was scolding him, Levi had erupted he was in his demon form and was shouting at Satan because he kept making videos, Belphie was gobbling up the kitchen, Beel was sleeping soundly on the floor and Asmo was with headphones in his ears looking at you with a look: either you shut them up or I commit mass murder, the choice is yours

It took you 49 minutes to calm them down except for Mammon who kept glare at Lucifer

dinner was quick since you could no longer mentally cope with these 7 crazy people and you just wanted this day to end

The day after

M/N: so what was it like to live with the sins exchanged?

All: I admit it’s more difficult than it seems

Levi: How the fuck does Satan keep his cool even for an hour?!

Lucifer: I never thought I'd say this but mammon with too much pride scares me

Mammon:*look at Lucifer* I don't know if that would be a compliment or an insult

Satan: I guess I'll read one of my libraries again to forget what I did yesterday and someone remind me to delete my entire phone gallery…

✦✰★✰ ✦✰★✰ ✦✰★✰ ✦✰★✰ ✦✰

#obey me mammon #male reader #male y/n #obey me x male reader #beel obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me x reader #obey me x oc #obey me x mc

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randomluck-ofthe-universe · 30 days ago

Note

hello! I'm new to the fandom and I apologize in advance for any stupid questions.. I've read and watched a LOT of information about Charmy, but there's something I still don't understand. Maybe you can help me with this. Why did Armie and Timmy delete everything from their Instagrams at some point, about a month apart? Timmy later returned everything, but not the CMBYN period and the photos with Armie. I don't get it :( And what's the problem with liking each other's posts now? :(

I love your blog!

welcome anon 😊 I'm glad you're here and no need to apologize at all because no question is stupid, but honestly I don't know how much I can help you on the real reasons about what happened... I'll try anyway 😉

'Why did Armie and Timmy deleted everything from their Instagrams'... that's a really great question, you can't imagine how I'd like to know too but they're the only ones who know the real reason.

about Armie, I thought that since he was coming back public on social media maybe he wanted to delete everything, including the massive amount of horrible and devastating comments about him, to have his new beginning at every level and not leaving back anything that was related to his nightmare lived for a year and a half.. but of course all this is only my personal thought and it's nothing more than that.

and about Tim, who knows why he made this decision... my feeling was that this choice had nothing to do with his work but was linked to a personal reason but I repeat, just my feeling.

'What's the problem with liking each other's posts now'...

this is the question of the century, anon 😅😎

their last interactions date back to 2020, in the months after Armie's divorce announcement, before the shameful smear campaign against Armie broke out. Armie himself has made it clear in a recent interview with Piers Morgan that "I understand that my situation was inflammatory and anyone who gets too close might also light on fire.." so yes, this could be one of the reasons why they no longer have any 'public' contact.. but honestly I think it could be 'just one' of the many reasons, and here I stop because the story becomes complicated, so long and going on a really personal level to be expressed here 😏

a little note about Tim's Instagram, anon 😉 Tim didn't delete all the posts with Armie, he left some of them..

.. he posted this while he and Armie were in Milan together

here you can see Armie walking with him..

.. and he left this too, commented by Armie and himself 😍

in the end if I may add, anon 😘.. don't give too much credit to everything is shown, or NOT shown, publicly on social... it has almost never nothing to do with what REAL things are.

thank you for your message ❤️

#my asks #timothée chalamet #armie hammer

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sweeter-innocence-fics · 1 year ago

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There's Always Time For Second Guesses (I Don't Wanna Know) (One-Shot)

Pairing: Tangerine x Reader

Work Summary: Tangerine x Reader Soulmate AU.

You're on vacation in Japan, trying to get away from the shitstorm that is your life, but you're not prepared for what's waiting for you on the bullet train to Kyoto.

Rating: Teen and up.

Word Count: 3519

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Notes:

Warnings for snakes and sadness, general assassin stuff, blood.

Timeline probably doesn't line up with the timeline of the movie, whoops.

---

It was supposed to be fun. The sort of relaxing faux-adventure you get from travelling to the tourist-y destinations of another country. The precursor to a fresh start after everything in your life had gone to shit.

But that wasn’t meant to be. Your carefree vacation had turned into a nightmare over the course of a few hours.

There were people with guns on this train. There was a dead man bleeding out of his eyeballs. Over the course of your journey, the number of train passengers had thinned out, and none of them seemed as worried as you felt. It was like no one else was paying attention. You needed to get out of here, but the next stop wasn’t for another thirty-five minutes.

Heart in your throat, you decided to take your backpack and hide in a bathroom. It was close to one of the exit doors. You would wait until the train was pulling into the next station, and then you would run for it.

That was your plan at least. You sat yourself down on the closed lid of the toilet, trying desperately to forget the face of the blood-covered man. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew exactly how to distract yourself. You’d packed your vacation to the brim, trying to leave yourself as little space for quiet reflection as possible. Maybe this was your penance. Now was the time to think about everything that had brought you here.

For starters, your boyfriend of four years had found his soulmate. It wasn’t as if you’d never considered this eventuality. After all, things like that happened all the time.

You weren’t ready, though, when you came home and found him sitting at the kitchen table with an expression half-guilty, half-ecstatic, the back of his hand stained a bright red.

He had tried to let you down gently; he really had. You hadn’t wanted him to feel guilty, either. It just as easily could’ve happened to you. You wished him the best, and then, when he was gone, you’d cried for three days.

A few days later, you’d found out that the company you worked for was ‘downsizing’ and you hadn’t made the cut. Redundant and freshly unwillingly single, you packed up everything you owned into your car and drove back to your parents’ house.

They had welcomed you back with open arms, but you could see the pity in their eyes. You hated that pity. So you made a decision. You took your redundancy money and decided to go on a trip.

You’d never been to Japan before, even though you’d always meant to. It was an exceptionally beautiful country, but you were still miserable. You had hoped that travelling would decrease the desire to check your ex’s Instagram for pictures of him with his new girlfriend, but it was still a compulsion that you were struggling to break.

You should just delete the app. It’s not like you posted much anyway. As you opened your phone and pressed on that little colourful camera icon, you heard a low hiss.

Your thumb paused over the Instagram app. “Huh?”

Probably the plumbing. It didn’t sound like any pipes you’d ever heard before, but Japanese toilets were different from the ones you were used to. Even though you weren’t using the toilet, you decided to flush, just in case.

A shape caught the corner of your eye, and before you could properly process what you were seeing, a scream ripped its way out of your throat.

A small, yellowish-brown snake slithered had slithered out between your legs. You launched yourself into the door, cursing the lock as you did so. Your fingers fumbled over it, and then, after an agonising moment, managed to unlock it.

You spilled out of the room and almost collided with a man in the process. You stumbled backwards, slamming the door and praying that the snake was now trapped inside.

Feeling unsteady, you almost lost your balance when a warm hand wrapped around your forearm, helping you stay upright. The man’s skin was hot against yours. Too hot. It burned.

He leapt back from you suddenly, and you fell into the wall, stabilizing yourself with one hand. Your eyes darted over him, trying to assess whether he was a threat.

With a jolt, you realised that you recognised him. You had seen him and another man talking to the dead man earlier. He was tall and handsome, with piercing blue eyes, but now, his hair was dishevelled and there were splotches of blood on his clothes.

You took a step back, away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at his hand.

It shimmered, like gold paint. A soulmate mark. Unbidden, your eyes found the spot on your arm where he touched you. It still burned. It had turned a rich, dark blue.

He looked at you then, his eyes roving over your face, trying to take you in. Your cheeks heated up under his penetrating gaze.

“There’s a snake in the bathroom,” you blurted out. You clutched your arm to your chest, cradling it through the burning ache. The man in front of you flexed his hand, and you realised that he must’ve been feeling the same thing. As you glanced at the now closed bathroom door, you had a sinking feeling of dread. “I left my backpack in there.”

“It’s okay, love. I’ll get it back for you.” He smiled at you then, and when you smiled back, you realised that you had never really been in love before.

Your ex was forgiven, the pain forgotten. If his girlfriend made him feel half as good as you did now, how could you possibly blame him for choosing her over you?

As he guided you back into the carriage, gesturing for you sit down, your smile faltered.

“Be careful? Please?”

He chuckled a little at that. “Don’t worry, love, I’m a professional. Just stay here and keep your head down, okay?”

Your heart thudded as you watched him retreat. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to breathe. Today had been quite the day. You were sure you were going to cry as soon as you got away from this train.

A moment later, your soulmate returned, holding your rucksack. He put it on the seat beside you.

“You need to get off this train, love. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

“Okay. We get to Nagoya in…” He checked his watch. “Twenty-five minutes. Let’s find somewhere to lay low.” There was no question as to whether or not you would go with him. Your trust in him was implicit and biological. In the space of a moment, he was yours and you were his. He took your rucksack again and slung it over his shoulder.

He took three steps and then stopped, turning back to you. “I don’t even know your name,” he said, almost apologetically. You gave him your name, and watched that smile spread across his face again. “Tangerine,” he said in response.

“Tangerine?”

“That’s my name. Tangerine.”

You were sure he was lying to you, but you could get into that later. He led you down the train until he found some unoccupied private cabins. He even held the door open for you so that you could go in first.

He was nothing if not a gentleman, evidently. You sat down in the seat next to the window and pulled your legs up onto it, hugging your knees. Tangerine put your bag in the overhead storage and then slid into the seat opposite you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just looked at each other. This was the man that fate said you were going to spend the rest of your life with, whether you liked it or not.

He was certainly very handsome. He was smooth and polite and well-dressed (or at least he had been, earlier). Other than that, you knew almost nothing about him. There was one thing you were sure about though: he was dangerous.

“I saw you and your friend talking to that man earlier. The one who died,” you said.

His lips turned down. “My brother.”

“Sorry?”

“Not my friend. My brother.”

“Your brother,” you repeated. “Where is he?”

Tangerine looked out of the window, frowning. “Dead.”

Your stomach gave a lurch. “What?”

He turned his eyes on you again, and took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself. “There’s some things you should know about me, sweetheart. I am not a good person. I am not a safe person. If you stay with me then you could get hurt.” As he spoke, you felt your stomach sinking. “Me and my brother, we’re- we were- are assassins.”

He shook his head slightly. Until he’d stumbled over his words, the speech had sounded practised. You wondered if he had prepared for this exact moment, when he would meet his soulmate.

“What happened to your brother?” you asked in a small voice.

He sighed deeply. “We were hired to retrieve something. A briefcase. And a person. Trouble is, someone else was hired to kill that person.”

“The man who was bleeding out of his eyes.”

“Right. Seems like this whole train is full of assassins. One of them took Lemon out. That’s why I need to get you out of here. I can’t lose another person today.” His eyes were starting to look very shiny. His hand was curled into a fist on his knee. Cautiously, you reached out and put your hand over it.

You watched as his expression smoothed out. His hand relaxed, and he let you turn it over, taking it between both of yours.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you said softly.

“…Thanks.”

“You’ll come with me, right? When I leave the train?” you asked.

“I have to finish this job.”

“Why?”

“There’s people who’ll kill me if I don’t.”

“Sounds like there’s people who’ll kill you if you do.” For a moment, he smiled again. It was a reluctant smile, but it was still beautiful, because he was beautiful.

“You’re probably right about that. But still. I have to see this through. I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Frustration was edging into your voice. “What could be worth that?”

He didn’t answer right away. He ran his free hand through his hair, turning back towards the window. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Okay. I’ll come with you. There’s nothing left for me here, anyway.”

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“What about you then? What brings you here? You’re not a local.”

It was your turn to frown. “I guess I was just looking for a distraction.”

“Well, you certainly found one.”

His expression was relaxed again. So you found yourself telling him everything. Your job. Your ex. Your parents. Everything that had been going wrong in your life that had led to you being here. He listened, lacing your fingers together and rubbing over the skin of your palm with his thumb.

The overhead announcement that you were about to pull into Nagoya almost made you jump. It hadn’t felt like twenty-five minutes had passed. Your heart began to speed up again.

Tangerine got to his feet and pulled your rucksack out of the rack above your head. Reluctantly, you stood up too. He swung the bag over one shoulder, and then held out a hand to you. When you didn’t immediately take it, he wiggled his fingers at you.

Okay. So he was cute too. Trying to suppress a smile, you took his hand.

It was a straight shot to the exit. There was a stretch of corridor about ten feet long, and then you would be off the train. You were almost at the door when Tangerine swore loudly, and then pulled you into the space next to the luggage storage.

You squeaked, almost losing your balance, but he put both hands on your shoulders. As the train pulled to a stop, his hands were the only things stopping you from falling into him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you’d got your feet under you.

“The man who hired me has got guards on the platform. If I try to get off this train, they’ll kill me.”

It felt like you’d been dunked in a bucket of ice. You’d been so close to getting away.

“What do we do?”

His expression was serious. “You need to get off the train.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “They don’t know you have anything to do with me. You’re just another passenger. They won’t bother you. Take this.” He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a handful of cash. “Rent a car. Drive to Kyoto. I’ll meet you there.”

“Tangerine…”

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was scribbling something down on a scrap of paper. As he slid it into your hands, you saw it was a phone number.

“I know today must’ve been terrifying for you,” he said. “So if you don’t call me, I won’t hold it against you. My life is dangerous. I’d hate for you to get hurt. So if that means living without you…” He swallowed. “I can live with that, okay?” You gritted your teeth. Your eyes were stinging. “Come to Kyoto. Or don’t. I’ll understand either way. Okay?”

Your heart was beating hard enough to hurt. You were almost surprised he couldn’t hear it. This beautiful, stupid, dangerous man. You had only just met him, but you’d do anything for him. Even leave, if that’s what he wanted you to do.

You pushed up onto your tiptoes and kissed him. It was a clumsy graze of your lips against his, but before you could rock back on your heels, he grabbed your face and kissed you back properly. You gripped the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but he pushed you away.

“You need to get off the train,” he said again, looking almost bereft.

You pulled him down to steal one last kiss. “I’ll see you in Kyoto.”

He handed you your rucksack. Resolute, you slipped it on and made your way out into the corridor. With your chin held high, you walked down the little steps off the train and onto the platform.

There were a lot of men in suits milling about, but as Tangerine had predicted, they paid no attention to you. You walked straight over to the car rental office without looking back.

The drive to Kyoto was almost two hours. The bullet train would’ve got you there in under forty minutes. You drove the speed limit, rucksack thrown haphazardly into the passenger seat, no question of stopping any time soon, but you still felt Tangerine getting further away from you with every minute.

There had been a lump in your throat ever since you’d left him behind. It would be just your luck to meet your soulmate and then have him die after you’d known him for less than a day.

You couldn’t think like that. You’d never make it to Kyoto if you had a mental breakdown on the drive there. Your eyes darted down to the new patch of blue colour on your arm. It was still as vivid as it had been when he’d first touched you. He was alive. That made it a little easier to breathe.

You were twenty minutes outside Kyoto when you reached the roadblock. There were police everywhere, and no way through. They were trying to direct you down a diversion, but you weren’t having that.

You pulled over to the side of the road and got out. You put on your best clueless tourist face and walked right up to the roadblock.

“Excuse me? Do you speak English?” you asked one of the cops. He held up a hand, telling you to wait, and then went over and spoke to another officer.

The second cop came over to you. “English?” he said.

“Yes. What happened here? Why is the road closed?”

He grimaced at you. “Bullet train derailed. Very bad.”

Your heart seized. You glanced down at your arm again. Still blue. His eyes traced the movement of your gaze right down to your soulmark, and a look of understanding crossed his face.

“My soulmate was on a train to Kyoto,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Not many people on this train. We found no survivors. Only dead.” At the expression on your face, he grimaced again. “Probably not your soulmate. Lots of trains come through here. Maybe on the next one?”

“Maybe,” you said shakily. “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything else as you turned around to go back to the car. You slid into the driver’s seat, and took a shuddery breath.

Slowly, you unzipped your rucksack and rifled through it, looking for your wallet. In your hurry to get here, you had stuffed it into the top of your bag.

You flipped it open, and there, folded up in the space that used to hold a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, was the scrap of paper with Tangerine’s phone number on it.

You smoothed it out on your lap. His handwriting was messy – though given the circumstances, you could hardly blame him – but it was still legible. With trembling fingers, you typed the number into your phone.

It was answered before the first ring had even finished.

“Hello?” Tangerine’s voice was in your ear, and your relief came in the form of a rush of tears.

“Tangerine?” you asked, and he said your name in return.

The rest of the phone conversation was hazy. You were crying through it. Eventually, he told you that he’d text you an address, and you needed to meet him there. You promised him you would.

It was dark by the time you drove up to the hotel. You pulled into a parking space, turned your engine off, and paused.

You were sure you looked a mess. You’d been crying on and off for hours. You looked at yourself in the rearview mirror and frowned.

“Stop being an idiot,” you muttered to yourself. Tangerine was your soulmate. He wouldn’t care if you were a mess. You took a few deep breaths, and then got out of the car.

The lobby wasn’t manned, so you went straight for the elevator. The floor numbers were handily written in both Japanese and English, so you hit the button for Tangerine’s floor and watched the doors slide closed.

It was very quiet here. The hum of traffic that had kept you company for hours seemed very far away now. You rubbed at your face, trying to get rid of any evidence of tears, to no avail. The elevator dinged.

Jittery, you made your way down the hallway and found the number of Tangerine’s room.

Here goes nothing.

You knocked on the door. There were footsteps, and a moment later, it opened a crack. A dark brown eye peeked out at you.

You were about to start apologising, saying that you had the wrong room, when the man took a step back, opening the door wider, and you recognised him as the man Tangerine had been with earlier. The man he’d called his brother. The man who he’d said was dead.

“Tan!” he called over his shoulder. “It’s for you.”

You heard another door slam shut, frantic footsteps, and then there he was, standing in the doorway.

He was wearing a white bathrobe. His hair, which had been slicked back earlier, was damp and curly. You liked it better that way.

He was no longer covered in blood, but you could see a couple of nasty cuts and bruises. You moved towards each other at the same time. He opened his arms and you stepped in.

He smelled like soap and aftershave. His skin was damp wherever it pressed against yours. He was so attractive that you felt a little light-headed.

A small, gasping sob escaped from your lips, and he immediately drew you tighter into himself, holding you.

“Shh, shh, love, it’s okay,” he murmured, guiding you back into the room. The door fell closed behind you.

You stood there for a moment, clinging to him like a lifeline. For his part, he seemed perfectly content to let you try to burrow your way into his chest.

Somewhere behind him, someone cleared their throat. Feeling a little embarrassed, you pulled back to see Tangerine’s brother lounging on a bed, a book propped open on his lap.

“If you two are gonna carry on like that, I’m gonna get my own room,” he said.

Tangerine chuckled, and then pressed his lips to your temple. “That’s probably for the best. Love, this is my brother, Lemon.”

“I thought you said he was dead?”

“It’s a long story, sweetheart. Come on. Let’s get room service.”

---

'‘Cause there’s always time for second guesses, I don’t wanna know If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go.'

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine bullet train

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