#fic: little break

[fictionadventurer]

I love libraries.

I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.

Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.

This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.

Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.

Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.

Excuse me while I go weep.

[spamgyu]

Wrong // Soonyoung one shot

DESCRIPTION: Getting married and having kids were never in your books... but neither was dating Soonyoung. PARING: nonidol!Soonyoung x Reader GENRE: toothrotting FLUFF

He was never a part of your plan.

None of this was.

You weren't supposed to date in college, not because someone had told you not to. It was your own choice, wanting to enjoy your first time of being away from home and independence with your friends – traveling, partying, and all the shenanigans that people your age had gotten into.

He had come into your life and turned it completely upside down – changing all the things you didn't dare changing for any of your exes.

Even his personality had completely taken you back.

Soonyoung was the quietest one in the presentation group your professor had assigned via google randomization. You didn't think he would be this ball of fire that would completely set all your future plans ablaze.

And you mean that in the most loving way possible.

The standoffish dancer in your history class was actually the sweetest man to walk the planet; winning your heart within months of getting to know him.

In the last two years that you two had been together, he had done nothing but repaint the image you had in your head of what life you saw yourself living.

The once very independent girl had now relied most of her days on her boyfriend; almost as if you had forgotten how to fill your own water bottle that resided at your bedside table.

The water bottle he had purchased, by the way – claiming that he had rarely seen you drink water within the first months of dating.

He had gotten it your favorite color.

The one you never mentioned to him – he had figured it out by noticing that your phone case, laptop cover, and school supplies were in that same color range.

Soonyoung had made you forget about your strong opinion of not wanting to text your significant every day – you never did think it was necessary.

And it wasn't like he was adamant that you let him know your every move. No, it was actually the total opposite; he cared for your boundaries.

He simply enjoyed sharing his every intrusive thoughts with you, sending you into a fits of giggle every time you opened the messaging app.

Time has passed and he had remained consistent – telling you about all his meals, the extra crunchy leaf he had stepped on, and the lack of baristas at you and his favorite coffee shop.

Most importantly, he had changed your view on settling down.

Soonyoung was aware that you didn't care too much for marriage or kids – it was simply not in your life plan.

That and the fact that you were a child of divorce; but that's a different story.

He didn't care, claiming "Allowing me to love you is enough."

God, why was he so perfect?

You watched him in awe as he played with his cousin's daughter, who had found herself on his lap within minutes of arriving at his family's gathering.

He had always been so good with kids; a stark difference to you.

"I heard the monster under your bed said you have stinky feet." He teased, poking the five year old's side – earning a giggle from her.

"No! That's a lie!" She cried.

"Nah..." Soonyoung shook his head. "He told me. He called me yesterday to tell you that you need to wash before bed."

"I do wash!"

He pursed his lips, leaning close to the little girl's hair. "Ooofff, stinky Seola!"

With her tiny hands, she had pushed your boyfriend's face away – the two laughing at his antics.

"Monster said you also have to eat more." Soonyoung nodded over to Seola's mother at the dining table, who had just set a plate down – but of course, the little girl did not budge.

She loved her Uncle Soonyoung; and you could see why.

"Come on, go eat and we can play after." He urged.

"Promise?" She hopped off his lap, turning to stick a pinky out at him.

He leaned down, playfully examining the finger half the size of his. "Did you wash your hands?"

"Uncle!"

"Alright, I'm trusting you." Soonyoung sighed dramatically, locking his fingers with hers before watching her scurry off to the older woman across the room.

"She's cute." You beamed as he leaned back on the couch, bringing his arm to rest around your shoulders – pulling you closer to him.

"She's a little gremlin." He chuckled, placing a kiss on your temple.

"I want a little gremlin."

You felt his body stiffen up next to yours. "We can steal her. I don't think her mom would mind."

"I want one that looks like us." You turned to face him – watching the stars in his eyes slowly come forward.

"What happened to no kids. Not ever?" He repeated your words from the very first time the two of you had gotten to the topic of children and marriage.

You let out a small laugh, shrugging. "Someone changed my mind."

"Who?" Soonyoung's brows furrowed "Did they threaten you?"

"Yeah, held my heart hostage too." You rolled your eyes.

"Ah," He nodded, a small smile creeping on his face. "I bet he's hot."

"Let's not push it." You held your hand up, earning a loud laugh from the boy.

"Well, we can talk about kids whenever you're actually ready."

"Keep up with Seola and who knows, maybe we can have one in a year."

"Seola!" He called out to the little girl who had happily turned towards the two of you, cheeks full of rice. "Chew well!"

"You're an idiot." You snorted, shoving the man you would happily marry in a heartbeat.

You had come to realize that it wasn't that you didn't want to get married or have kids because you didn't see it as part of your future plans; you simply hadn't met a man who wasn't exactly like your father.

You hadn't met someone who wasn't just going to be the "man of the house", but someone who was going to be a partner – someone who was going to pull half of the weight. Maybe even more.

You just hadn't met Soonyoung.

He had proved you wrong once again.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

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@readerwonnie @myjhuiboy @limbomoon @stilllovethatpictureofus

[rexwrendraws]

Saw a gifset of Morpheus and had the random thought that he'd make a fantastic children's picture book mouse character— and now I really, really want a fic where he appears in a kid's dream as a Kevin Henkes/Helen Craig/Beatrix Potter -esque mouse as to not scare them or something. I think it's something about Morpheus' usual mousey moue and big wet eyes that make it work in my head lolll Mousepheus!!

[geezmarty]

im sorry to hear about your avabela disease. is there anything i can do to make it worse

it's already reached critical levels I'm afraid here's an older drawing I don't think I've posted here

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Souped!

[lavendermin]

jing yuan is definitely the type of man to take your hand and kiss your fingers one by one WHILE keeping eye contact (literally STARING, waiting for u to break, become flustered and look away), and when you do, he would say smth along the lines of "look at me" / "is something wrong? why did you look away?" with that shitty grin of his

We’re dealing with a whole general in charge of the Luofu. That man is trained in the art of finding weaknesses to use to his advantage and effortlessly play off them. This partially translates into Jing Yuan’s methods for expressing love as well.

And he wouldn’t call these aspects your weaknesses per se. No, he would never degrade you like that. But he knows what makes you tick, what makes you short circuit, what buttons to push and when. Jing Yuan is well versed in the little things that draw out his favorite reactions from you. Something akin to cuteness aggression some might call it. His fondness for you is just that great. And your relationship is one that is lighthearted and filled with playful banter.

cw | suggestive, fem reader

He knows how to make your heart leap. Takes you to some secluded gardens past the hustle and bustle of the main city areas, away from prying eyes. He’s someone who prefers to love you in private, wanting to bare his soul to you and you only. The light breeze brings a beautiful rain of delicate petals from the plum blossom trees in the vicinity. With his tall stature he picks a low hanging flower from the tree without much effort, delicately placing it in your hair as he continues the pleasant conversation without missing a beat. It’s something that makes you momentarily fall out of step, caught a little off guard with the gesture. Your pulse quickens and the smile he wanted to see finally beams on your face, albeit shyly.

He knows what little things to do that get you looking at him with that lovesick gaze. During brief breaks between meetings he’ll bring you to the gardens in his estate, a blanket sprawled out for a quick afternoon snack to enjoy in good company. Some are favorites, other little additions are new and some just readily in season or imported. Jing Yuan always wordlessly insists on hand feeding you himself. Loves the flustered look in your eyes as he puts a slice of fruit to your lips, slowly parting them and glossing them with the nectar that drips from the treat. A sigh of contentment leaves you and he can’t help but smile fondly, leaning in to quickly place a peck on your lips.

Your eyes twinkle, heart full with the notion that he imported one of your favorite delicacies from a neighboring star system—and with such a limited season they are available in. He licks his lips, the sweetness from the kiss he stole lingering in his mouth with the taste of you. An ideal afternoon he wishes could be longer than thirty minutes before he’s off again. Might as well spend them with you.

He pulls you onto his chest as he lays back on the picnic blanket, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you.

“Just for fifteen minutes, let’s stay like this,” he whispers, pulling you down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s an intimacy that simmers and leaves your hearts full longer.

And with a smile you can’t help how love-struck you look at him, so prettily under you. Something that he mirrors equally as you both settle into the tranquil moment.

He’s especially good at teasing—knows what little habits you have and how to exploit them for his amusement (in good fun). And there are a lot of little habits that come with your shy demeanor.

You bite into the flesh of a peach, the juices running down your hands. He’s quick to seize an opportunity to take your hand, kissing each of your glistening fingers slowly—hungry gaze steadily holding yours. The action has you holding your breath without even realizing it. It warms your face with the intimacy of his soft lips pressing to the pads of your fingers—a heat quickly surging through your body like a wildfire. And you can’t move even if you wanted to (you don’t), his grasp firm on your wrist.

It’s almost like a little game of endurance. You’ve never felt more like a doe in a lion’s den than in these kinds of moments. His lips move to press to the second finger, the third finger…

“Eyes on me, little dove,” he mutters, voice an octave lower than usual. Commanding. The smirk on his lips reveals the mischief in his intention. “Don’t look away. Not for a second.”

Your eyes that had desperately tried to dart anywhere else are immediately back on him. Almost involuntarily. You can’t help but worry your lip to try and suppress any little gasps and whimpers that may threaten to leave you.

“That’s my sweet girl.”

He kisses the fourth, a subtle tremble on your own hand he can just barely feel. The glimmer in his honey eye tells you he wants to play with to his dinner today. You can only pray your weak heart can withstand what teasing he has in store for you as he slowly drags his tongue up your index finger. His mouth chases the sweetness of the fruit as it coats your hand, your eyes following the wet muscle with an involuntary whimper and shift of your thighs when he licks sensually between your index and middle finger.

And just like that he places a kiss to your palm and leaves you hot and bothered. Trembling and breathing a little uneven with a want settling deep in the pit of your belly.

“Were you hoping for something more?” Jing Yuan asks with that mischievous, innocent-looking smile he wears. His thumb swipes at the corner of his lips to catch remnants of the sweetness he stole from your delicate hands.

Sly goddam fox.

[naamah-beherit]

Imagine:

Sam, who's still new enough at his job that he doesn't know the unspoken rule "If a dishevelled bloke comes looking for Gwen and claims to be her brother, pretend you don't know her and walk away".

So when a dishevelled bloke comes looking for Gwen and insists he must see her, it's a family emergency, you see, he's her brother, Sam, being a good lad at heart, gets him a visitor badge and takes him to see Gwen.

Who gets one glimpse of him, stands up with an, "Absolutely NOT, Elias, haven't I told you not to come here--"

"Hello, Gwen," says Elias like the headache that he is.

And the computer speakers crack in three voices in unison, "ELIAS BOUCHARD".

_____________

This is now a fic because I'm incapable of not acting on my plot bunnies

[frownyalfred]

fic where the JL encounters some sort of force/person that can magnetize/manipulate metal and everyone gives Batman a hard time because they think he’s just unhappy his armor is magnetic but it’s actually because every single plate and screw he’s ever had implanted is slowly trying to tunnel out of his bones throughout their investigation

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Danny and Sam cause chaos at a gala

So Sam is forced to one of her families galas, and Danny is also forced to go because he had convinced Jack and Maddie that it would be good for his future carer

Sam and Danny find this out after complaining to each other, once they realised they were both going to the same gala they started planning

.

.

.

Every member of the Batfam hated galas with a passion and Jason had thought he got out of this one when he got an alert that Joker was crashing Wayne gala

He was annoyed obviously

So he didn't know how to react when as he arrived 2 teenagers were half beating the shit out of joker and half dancing

All the goons were stuck to walls and furniture, and all the gala attendants were perfectly fine, there was also phineas and ferb songs and my little pony songs playing in the background

A girl in a poofy purple dress with knee-high combat boots was dancing to the cartoon songs while stomping on the jokers back

And a black-haired teen in a ripped-up suit with mismatched combat boots was dancing with the girl while kicking the joker's teeth in

He started recording...

.

.

.

Sam and Danny planned for a week, they would sneak in and set up speakers with my little pony and Phineas and Ferb songs, 2 sets of combat boots and a Fenton blaster modified to shoot a glue like substance

So in the middle of the gala Sam and Danny started their playlist

They gave no fucks

For the first 15 minutes, they were just smashing furniture(their rich they can pay) and giving people the finger while dancing with each other to cartoon songs

Then they hopped up on tables and started firing their Fenton blasters everywhere

It was the best

So like hell they were stopping just because Bobo the wannabe clown decided to drop by

[francixoxoxo]

𐙚𝒯𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸ℯ𝓇 ୨ৎ

𝒞ℴ𝓇𝒾ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝒮𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒳 ℬ𝒶𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐨, 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚

𝒴𝒶’𝓁𝓁 𝒹ℴ𝓃’𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝒾𝓉 𝓌ℯ𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒻ℯℯ𝓉！！

Ballet was your passion. It was like when you entered that room, glossy hardwood under-toe and expansive mirrors across the wall— you forgot your body’s limits.

At the end of the day, the lactic acid would kick in and you’d feel like a true cripple. Your toes were cracked, your spine brittle, your legs stiff from being pulled so taught.

Coriolanus was so, so endearingly supportive of you. Your grace was unmatched in every endeavor you took, yet ballet was your calling. He was at every performance, your enamored husband, yet careful to respect your wishes of letting your success be solely from your work. You were adamant that you didn’t want him pulling strings for you.

If he couldn’t use his political power as President to get you ahead, he’d dote on every single other aspect of your dancing.

A leotard in every color you pleased. The best hairstylists and gentlest products to keep your hair silky and healthy, unlike what most ballerinas had to deal with. Hell, a whole dance studio in the presidential mansion all to yourself for the few days you didn’t have rehearsal with your dance company.

Coriolanus noticed in particular that your feet took the largest toll. Bruised and battered between heels for events as the First Lady of Panem and pointe shoes for performances as a Prima Ballerina… it broke his heart. He saw to it that your slippers were custom-made to fit your feet, the finest quality and comfortable as possible.

And yet, though the pain was exponentially better, your passion continued to discomfort you. You’d insisted how much you loved ballet, insisted that you didn’t mind some pain in the face of your career.

That didn’t mean that Coryo didn’t feel awful.

One night, Coryo slipped into the dance studio. You were somehow more awake than him in the late hours of the night. He’d finished up his address for the next cabinet meeting, and for the first time in the past few months felt truly ready for bed.

You? Not so much. You were in your ballet slippers, in a cream-colored leotard and pink skirt. Working your pretty little ass off. You were practicing an important routine for the next show, which you had an important role in. When you heard the door open, your heels immediately hit the floor and your head whipped to see Coriolanus.

You let out a soft sigh. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Your husband cooed, his sapphire eyes shamelessly drinking you in. He waved a hand to you as he crossed the room to sit on the bench against the wall. “Keep going, my love, don’t let me stop you.”

You smiled a bit shyly, turning around so your back was to him. You met his eyes in the mirror as you began from where you left off in the dance, a dainty arabesque.

Coryo just leaned against the wall, his legs spreading lazily as he sat and watched you dance. You were absolutely captivating in every movement. Graceful and iridescently beautiful.

That was, until you couldn’t bear to dance on the pointe of your slippers and stumbled a bit. You groaned in frustration, slipping to your knees in a smooth and somehow still elegant motion.

“What happened?” Coriolanus sat up now, brows drawing in concern as you began to undo the ribbons of your pointe shoe. You shook your head, rigid with frustration.

“I think it’s time for bed.” You admit, slipping your right flat off and undoing the thick bandage wrapped from your heel to your toes.

You grimaced at the sight of your foot. Some of your toes were purple with bruises, cruel and mocking blisters on your knuckles. There were indivudual bandages around certain more damaged toes, a bandaid under the ball of your foot. The bones of your foot were strained against your skin. Even you could admit that you looked beaten.

Before you realized it, Coryo was scooping you up with his arms under your back and knees. You gasped a little, though it delved into a little giggle. He couldn’t pretend that your battered feet didn’t bother him, he couldn’t manage a smile. Your husband gently sat you down on the bench he had been on, reaching for your ballet duffel bag. He dug around a bit.

“Poor baby.” Coriolanus cooed, pressing a kiss to your knee as he shifted to kneel at your feet. In his hand he clutched a roll of soft pink bandages and a tube of Neosporin you kept in your bag. “It looks like it hurts.”

You hummed, admiring the sight of Coryo on his knees in front of you. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and baring his forearms, his dress shirt’s top few buttons unbuttoned. His hair was ungelled, to your delight. “It’s not that bad.”

But you flinched as Coryo pressed gently on a bruise with his thumb. He’d hardly applied any pressure, and you were reacting like that. “This? This isn’t that bad?” Coriolanus huffed, he held your foot in one hand and gestured to it by lifting it just a bit. He raised his brows, blue eyes wide in disbelief. He shook his head disapprovingly, looking down and applying some Neosporin to the opened blisters on your toes.

“My love, you’re pushing yourself too far.” Coryo murmured, his breath warm on your shin as he reached for the bandages. He took loving care in wrapping your foot, once, twice, as much padding as he needed to ease his mind.

You shake your head. “Don’t be dramatic, Coryo. This is normal.” You watched your husband’s jaw tick. He leaned down to press a tender kiss to your ankle, his eyelashes tickling your calf.

“Normal, fine. But I’m not dramatic when I say that it hurts to see.” Coriolanus turned to lean his head against your knee, unraveling the ribbons of your other slipper with an agonizingly gentle touch. His fingers were featherlight, as if you’d crumble under his fingers. “You don’t deserve this. Such a good, beautiful woman as you shouldn’t have a scratch.”

You smiled faintly down at him as he slipped your pointe shoe off. He was unbelievably doting, despite what people might say about his coldness. Coryo was completely different behind closed doors. He melted with you. He adored you.

“You’re too good to me.” You murmured softly, Coriolanus scoffed and shook his head as he carefully unwrapped the fabric covering your toes. He could see the deep crimson staining the cloth already, his brow was already pulled taut.

You grimaced at the damage to your feet. Damn. You hadn’t realized it was bleeding until now, looking down at the rubbed-off skin and blisters cracking your toes. Now that the wounds were exposed to the air, they suddenly stung and ached. Coryo was staring down at your foot for a long few moments before rifling through your duffel bag for some baby wipes. He was sure this had happened before, he was sure you would be hesitant to tell him.

“My poor darling..” Coriolanus cooed, successfully finding a wipe and cleaning the blood from your skin. You whimpered at the touch on the raw skin, but when your husband looked up at you as if to ask if he should stop, you gently pushed your fingers through his blonde curls.

“I’m fine.” You assured him, watching as he squeezed some Neosporin onto the opened skin. Coryo was painfully gentle in wrapping up your foot, he cooed sweet words and apologies to you, though it wasn’t his fault.

Coryo was certain you didn’t deserve any of this pain that came with your passion. You were too good for any kind of pain, period. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your foot, his lips trailing up to your ankle, the length of your shin, your knee. That last kiss, he let his azure eyes flutter shut, humming lowly against your skin. You couldn’t help smiling down at him, gently scratching and rubbing his scalp. If only he could see himself now, kneeling in front of you, kissing up your legs and practically worshipping you.

“I love you.” Coriolanus murmured, propping his chin on your knee and looking up at you with soft eyes. Well, he was looking up at you like you were a goddess, like you were something to pray to. His eyes twinkled, his expression sincere.

Your smile only widened. You folded at the waist to press a kiss to the crown of Coryo’s hair, whispering, “I love you too.” That brought a fond smile to his lips, a little snort from his nose.

He tossed those devilish slippers into your bag after a long, lingering few moments of staring up at you. “Let’s get you to bed.” Coryo hummed, zipping up the duffel and swinging it over his shoulder as he stood. You moved to stand, opening your mouth to ask for the sandals in your bag, but before you could speak he was scooping you back up into his arms like a princess. You couldn’t help the giggle bubbling from your lips, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Coriolanus pressed his lips to your temple as he pushed the door open with his back, carrying you down the hall. He didn’t really care if a servant or an Avox saw you two; he wasn’t doing anything that a loving husband wouldn’t, anyway.

Your pain truly hurt him. Coryo felt an ache in his heart every time you’d complain of stiff joints or blistered feet. He made sure to have ballet slippers created specifically for you, so that you wouldn’t feel such pain again.

You didn’t have to ask; Coriolanus was a husband who jumped to your every need before the words rolled off your tongue.

[blindmagdalena]

im so ❤️❤️ for creepy homelander rn! like stalker homelander, panty stealer, watching you sleep vibes.,,,,., my heart is full

he's just so terribly good at it.

who else is going to walk you home at night? it's dangerous out here for a pretty thing like you. it's okay that you can't see him. all that matters is that he can see you.

honestly it's cute how clueless you are. what would you do without him? he's been outside your place countless times and yet not once have you ever noticed him. he starts to feel bold. he wonders if maybe you do know, you just don't mind.

it makes leaving your window open seem like an invitation.

it's surreal to be inside the home he's watched from a distance. everything smells like you, but it doesn't stop him from picking up your shirt and pressing it to his mouth to take a deep huff. soft. everything about you is so damn soft.

especially when you sleep. he cocks his head while he stands there at the edge of your bed, watches you for a long while. your heart is steady, breaths shallow. you must be deep asleep then, dreaming away. dreaming of him, he hopes. he certainly dreams of you.

being so close is too much of a temptation. he wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. he ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. he can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. fuck, it's intoxicating, it's...

he brushes his lips ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. divine. you're divine. so unwittingly perfect. you don't even know. you have no idea.

he means to leave it there, but the pull is too great. he's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his. soft, soft, soft. he knew they would be.

he's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake and declare himself and finally have you.

not yet.

he leaves, but not empty handed. he doesn't think you'll miss that pair of panties. not as much as he'll enjoy them.

[buck-up-buck]

Tommy pushed the door open and helped Evan into his loft, holding the majority of his weight, a pharmacy bag hanging loosely at his other side.

"Easy, nice and slow." He kicked the door closed behind them, dropping the bag to the floor and stopping so Evan could catch his breath. The trip from the car up to the fourth floor had taken its toll on him, his breath coming out in short pants against Tommy's neck. "Couch, or bed?"

"Couch is fine." He huffed out, closing his eyes for a second before nodding, showing Tommy he was ready to start moving again.

"All your weight on me, okay?" They carried on the same way until they finally reached the couch, Tommy lowering Evan down slowly, making sure to keep his bad leg off the ground. Once he was sat down, he grabbed two of the cushions from the arm chair so that Evan could elevate his leg.

"Thank you." Evan sighed heavily, leaning his head back as he tried to get his breathing back under control, Tommy taking this time to head to the kitchen. Maddie had texted him before he picked Evan up from the hospital to let him know she had stocked his fridge and cupboards, so they should be good for a few days. He knew Evan was just about due another round of painkillers, so he grabbed an electrolyte drink from the fridge and then ran to the entryway, picking the bag up and depositing it on the kitchen side.

He chose for the time being to put aside the burn ointment, knowing he would need to redress Evan's bandages later on, but would wait until his pain had subsided some and he had at least had a nap. Taking out two painkillers, he headed back to Evan and knelt down next to his head, watching as he turned his head to the side, sending Tommy a small smile.

"Hi." He whispered, Tommy's heart fluttering.

"Hey. I have your painkillers and a drink for you." Placing a kiss on Evan's forehead, Tommy helped him sit up, leaving him to take the pills while he reached over the back of the couch for Evan's large throw blanket, draping it over his frame. "You should get some rest." Evan nodded and took one last swig of his drink before screwing the lid on and popping the bottle on the coffee table, staring up at Tommy who was standing at his head, arms hovering as if wanting to reach out and say something.

Buck knew he probably had somewhere to be, and was just making sure he didn't need anything else before he headed out for the night, but Buck was a pro at tending to his own injuries alone.

This, unfortunately, was not his first rodeo.

"I'm good Tommy, you can go if you need to."

"What? You want me to leave?" The frown on Tommy's face was adorable. Buck had grown to love kissing away his frown lines, using his mouth to literally turn his frown upside down.

"I mean, no, of course I don't want you to leave, but I'm home now. You don't have to hover, I'm more than capable of handling the rest on my own." Tommy crouched down near Buck's head and he chose now to pout, tilting his head up to try and catch Tommy's lips, but the man didn't move any closer, staying at arms length away from Buck which just would not do. "Babe seriously, I'm fine, but I won't be fine if you don't at least give me a kiss goodbye."

"I'm not giving you a kiss goodbye, Evan, because I am not going anywhere." Now it was Buck's turn to frown, his pout dropping off his face. "You really think I would just drop you off here and then head out for the night? You've just spent three days in the hospital, I'm not going anywhere unless you choose to kick me out your front door yourself."

"But- I'm fine?" His response came out as more of a question than a statement. Buck wasn't fine, he knew that. He had some pretty nasty burns, on his bad leg as well, and would probably be in a decent amount of pain for a while, but he was home now, and that was a start. He wasn't about to let Tommy waste away while he got better, Tommy didn't sign up for that. "You didn't sign up to be stuck looking after me, Tommy."

"And you didn't sign up for a crazy guy trapping you in a burning building, Evan"

"He wasn't crazy."

"Oh no, he was most definitely crazy." This got a laugh out of Evan, Tommy leaning forward to kiss his smile, before pulling back with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously Evan. I know we didn't sign up for any of this, but I am not going anywhere. We are on this recovery train together."

"So, me being injured on the job doesn't freak you out?"

"No more so than being injured in my own line of work does. It happens, but it doesn't mean you have to deal with it on your own." Oh, and if the heartbrokenly relieved look on Evan's face didn't shatter Tommy's heart. "Like I said, I am not going anywhere. Now, close your eyes, get some rest, and I will still be here when you wake up." Sniffling, Evan nodded, allowing himself to sink further into the couch, the soft sound of Tommy's breathing next to him lulling him to sleep.

@whollyjoly talking about parallels earlier inspired this so, enjoy!

[thegnomelord]

Just had this dark idea in my head involving Hound and Makarov. What if while Makarov was in prison, he starts becoming very sick, and the guards start to notice as well. He claims to have cramps, vomiting a lot, and bloating. Suspicious signs of pregnancy. So the facility gives him a ton of pregnancy tests, all of which were positive. Makarov knew this day would come before he was captured because he washed down the birth control and made you cum blanks inside him without protection. He wanted something to remind you that you belonged to him, a piece of you to always have with him, someone to love when you aren’t there.

The news spreads like wildfire in the base, 141 couldn’t believe what they heard and debated if they should tell you or not. But in the end they all agreed you should know the truth. Price was the one to break the news and hold you tightly as you had a mental breakdown. Makarov was pregnant with your child.

NGL I'm having serious thoughts of whether or not to put abo verse into the Hound/Good dog universe because like, it feels really fitting.

Like Makarov's an omega, he grew up being told he'd need to be a good omega for his future alpha and be subservient and all that shit, and he's had to fight tooth and nail for everything. And he loves having control over such a big and burly alpha like Hound, turning the usual dynamic on it's head. It would also make brainwashing Hound easier with all the pheromones and come Hound's rut when alpha's get desperate for an omega's touch.

Price and Ghost are omegas, Gaz is a beta and Johnny's an alpha. I headcanon when Hound was still a sergeant they'd do this scenting session after particularly hard missions where they'd scent each other and just cuddle until your inner alpha was content and happy knowing your omegas were okay.

Also the angst of Price or Ghost trying to do the same thing only to have you recoil and growl at them. Aaaand maybe the heartbreak of finding out Makarov had bonded you and him, owns Hound body and soul is jught ughtuddafeha.

Also yes yes yes the angst of finding out Makarov is pregnant with your child would be such good angst! And then dealing with the instincts to protect your pregnant omega would make it an even bigger dilemma when it comes to choosing between Makarov and 141.

But idk lemme know what ya'll think before I go and change things up lol.

[swedenis-h]

Phoenix Tatooine day trip Goes Wrong™️ (X)

This is a little idea where Luke needs something (don’t ask me what) that he can only get on tatooine, so dinluke adventure ensues. The plan is to get there and leave ASAP, but then nostalgia hits and he needs to hit every shop and place he used to as a kid. But you know, “college kids comes back to hometown” syndrome hits and he realizes he’s changed too much. Think of how the holiday season doesn’t feel the same anymore now that you’re an adult, same feeling. AND YES ITS ALSO DUNLUKE BECAUSE I WANT THEM TO KISS AND TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS AND ALSO KISS.

Heres some extras 🫡

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)

[pia55tri]

"Only you would be able to break a bone playing padel."

Oscar glanced up, a scoff in his throat. "Are you making fun of me?"

Carlos cocked his head, his thick brows scrunching up in confusion. "No?"

Oscar rolled his eyes and leant back against the wall. He waved carelessly to the side and Carlos took it as his cue to duck into his driver's room, shutting the door behind him.

"How are you feeling?"

Oscar's lips quirked. "Not too bad. But not too good either." His chest felt a bit tender when he leant in one direction for too long. He'd hardly realised he'd broken something, really, until he'd taken his shirt off in front of Carlos and Carlos had gasped at the bruising.

Carlos smiled sympathetically. "Cleared to race though, no?" he asked, like being allowed to race was the important part here. It was, to Oscar. But he was certain his mother and his doctor would have a differing opinion on it.

"Yeah." He looked up at Carlos from underneath his eyelashes. "Can't let you get a bigger gap on me, can I?"

"Well," Carlos grinned charmingly, "it's not really up to you, no?"

Oscar laughed, then groaned as the motion seemed to jostle something. Carlos touched his face gently, hushing him.

"Painkillers?"

"Later," Oscar huffed. He reached up, twisting his hands into the collar of Carlos's obnoxiously Ferrari red hoodie, and tugged him down. He pressed his mouth hard against Carlos's, pulled back, and waited until Carlos got with the program and kissed him quite nicely.

"I'll need to leave for free practice soon," Carlos murmured.

Oscar tightened his grip. "I can't believe you're telling me you're leaving me when I'm all broken here," he huffed.

Carlos laughed breathily. "You're not fragile, muñeco. Just a little...chipped."

"Chipped," Oscar muttered. "It was a clean break."

"Mm," agreed Carlos. He lifted his arm away from Oscar's waist to get a look at his watch. Oscar batted it away and dragged Carlos's face back down to him.

"Later," he said, firmly.

Carlos's fingers skated along the back of his neck, then up into the mess of his hair. A sigh spilt from Oscar's mouth.

"Okay, muñeco. Later."