#i am so tired of looking at my own face let me tell you LMAO

[snobgoblin]

oh my god guess who finished his Apprentice sprite

dude I spent a stupid amount of time on this like granted an hour of this was working on different art on the same layer but still

I don't entirely think this is as good as I wanted it to be but it's definitely better than my last attempt

also I may do his other outfits but this took me so long I'm gonna need a minute LMAO

also here's him kind of slapped onto Versallion's height chart bc I think they did a good job and I didn't know how to recreate it

when I tell you this was made to prove myself I am not exaggerating (saw my old art and wanted to make it Better) if you have any criticism or anything I did badly/not true to the art style PLEASE tell me I want to get good at this art style so bad

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far From.

(Part 4)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: Bucky comes face to face with the ones fucking his shit up, he’s all stressed and the reader just wants to make out.

Warnings: mentions of crime (guns,drugs,murder [he’s a mobster babes]), swearing, guns, reader being threatened with a gun (oops), threat of violence, talking about feelings (ew), think that’s it-if I’m missing any let me know.

Word count: 3.9k ish

A/n: hey guys, hope you enjoy this shit lmao, I truly have absolutely no idea where I’m going with this.

(This is not beta’d we die like men.)

Part 3 : Icarus Falling Far

Masterlist

————

Bucky’s thoughts in italics

Readers thoughts in bold

————

Fuck.

Fuucckk.

“It’s you.” Bucky states, his voice steady, hiding the confusion running through his head.

“It’s us,” Frank responds, “gotta be honest, we’ve had a lot of fun fucking up your shit.”

Frank stood with a smug smirk on his face, while the man with the buzz cut, and with scars covering his face, the light outside casting a grim portrait, stands with a big grin - both completely unaffected by the gun being pointed at them.

“Does she know?” Bucky asks, years of being screwed by people he trusted rearing back and kicking his trust issues into his gear.

Please say no, please tell me she’s not a part of this.

No. Not her.

“Y/n? Bet it break your cold heart if we said yes, huh?” Billy quips, with that stupid grin now a permanent fixture on his face. “That sweet pretty girl you though actually liked you, was actually just getting us this in, see we have proposition for- ”

“DOES SHE KNOW?” Bucky lets his voice rise, tired of the games the other men were playing.

“No, and we are gonna keep it that way you hear me, don’t drag that kind girl into this cruel world.” Curtis states, stepping forward as if to cut Billy off from responding.

Shit, I can’t let you look down and see me waving a gun in your friends faces.

“She doesn’t need to know. She’s not made for this world, not like us. So how about you put the gun away before she starts looking out that window.” Frank says, eyes flicking to your window to make sure you’re not witnessing this tense conversation.

Bucky slowly lowers the gun into his pocket, but keeps his hand tight on the weapon, just as a precaution.

Please be true, to whatever bastard higher power up there, please be true.

“Not like us?” Bucky says, parroting the other man’s words, “in what world are we the same?”

“Well I mean you and Curtis probably share the most similar physicality,” Billy states, chuckling a little at his own joke.

Bucky’s eyes flit to the quiet man on the left, recalling his earlier thoughts.

“What Bill means to say is that I know what’s it’s like to loose a limb in combat-”

“I didn’t loose my arm in combat.” His voice was deep and unwavering, even while the horrid memories came to the front of his mind, “you have no idea what I went through.”

“We know some. Rumors fly in the military.” Franks states, “we were all Marines together, and after Curtis lost his leg, I became a Navy Seal and Bill here became a Scout Sniper for the Marine Corps Reconnaissance. We’ve had our fair share of being screwed over by those in authority.”

“Am I supposed to give a shit? All that crap is behind me, what I care about is my business now, the same business that you three have been fucking up for the past week. So what the fuck do you want and what the fuck does Y/n have to do with it?” Bucky growls out, his patience slipping.

“We mean no harm, not to you, and especially not to Y/n-”

“I’m supposed to believe that, you used her to get to me right? If you cared about her you wouldn’t have done that-” Bucky begins before he gets cut off.

“Don’t you dare say that we don’t care about her!” Billy almost shouts stepping forward before stopping when Bucky brings the gun out of his pocket and lets it rest by his side.

“Y/n is one of the few things in this world we care about, she’s family okay, and we would never hurt her-” Curtis says

“Really, then how would you say she’s gonna feel if I go back to her apartment and tell her all about this, huh?” Bucky calls back

“You’re not gonna do that though, are ya? Because you know if you did, it’d break her heart, and you don’t wanna do that do ya Buck? Not when ya like her so much?” The words come from Billy, the annoying grin back in his face.

“What make you think I care that much?” Bucky says, even though his thoughts state the opposite.

I do. I do care.

“If you didn’t you would have shot us already.” Frank responds with a very valid point.

That makes Bucky clench his jaw and tense his gun wielding hand.

“All we want is a business meeting okay, talk about a potential partnership.” Frank stars crossing his arms, staring unklinking at Bucky.

“A partnership? It’s gonna take more than you fucking up a few things for me to even think about considering that. And what the hell would I get out of a partnership with you three?” Brucky responds, seriously considering just shooting the three men dead on the street.

“Well that’s something we can talk about later, but just so you know we have our hands in some business ourselves and more than enough bodies to keep our shit going, but we’d all be a hell of a lot richer if we worked together” Curtis states, shifting his weight onto his good leg.

“Plus just think about how happy our girl will be if we all got on.” Billy chimes in with a quick wink.

Our girl. OUR girl? God I wanna shoot these assholes.

Bucky keeps his calm facade up, unwilling to show the man that his words affected him.

“Fine. Be at the Comandos bar at 8 pm tomorrow, just you three, no weapons.” Bucky responds, wanting this conversation to be over.

The three men share quick look’s between themselves, and then Frank steps forward with his hand out towards Bucky and says “We’ll be there.”

Bucky doesn’t even look at them before turning quickly and walking back into the building, pulling out his phone to call Steve.

Frank chuckles, puts his hand down and turns to get in the car.

“Think he’ll tell her?” Curtis asks.

“Nah. He likes her too much.” Billy replies, while opening the door and getting in.

—————

What the hell is taking him so long? God I hope the boys didn’t catch him and give the whole ‘if you hurt her we’ll kill you’ talk. The boys are scary but Bucky’s a damn mobster.

The heavy knock on the door stops your pacing, and cause you to run to the door and pull it open to see the aforementioned mobster.

He doesn’t even say anything before barging in, kicking the door closed behind him while his hands go straight to the sides of your face, pulling your lips to his. His grip is gentle, but his mouth is bruising, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

You pull back to catch your breath, leaning your forehead on his and catching your breath.

“Not even a hello? You missed me that much?” You flirt quietly, whispering into his mouth, hand clutching his waist through his coat.

“More than you know darlin’ I needed to see you…and touch you,” Bucky responds, silently thinking I needed to make sure you were okay.

Oh please do.

“All I’m hearing is the big bad mobster saying he needs me” you tease, praying he didn’t take offence, yeah he’s sweet and lovely but I’ve only gotten a tiny glimpse at the other side of him.

“Is that how you see me?” He leans back to his full height, staring down into your eyes, dropping his hands to his sides.

Shit.

Bucky grips your wrists and takes your hands off his body, moving them into his metal hand, the surface cold on your skin. You scramble to respond, wanting to tell him you thought the opposite, but his flesh hand moves to his pocket before you can talk.

“Big bad mobster huh? Oh doll you have no idea,” he says with an indiscernible look on his face, pulling out his glock.

Oh fuck, I was only teasing.

“Wait Buck-“ you start before he cuts you off.

“Y/n…Are you scared of me?” He asks, his grip on your wrists loose enough that you could get out of his grip if you wanted to.

You didn’t move. Looking into his eyes, an overwhelming feeling of calm takes over, the blue of his eyes the same as the sky after a storm.

“…no. I’m not.” I probably should be but apparently I’m crazy.

“Do you think I’m bad?” He asks.

All the stories, all the rumours, the memory of your first meeting, and the call he took in the shop come flooding to the forefront of your mind. That he’s a man with no mercy, cares for nothing and no one - except money, sex, and violence.

“…not to me.” You answer.

He pulls his arm up, holding the glock in between your faces, showing it to you. The bottom of his tattoo- your tattoo- sticks out from under his sleeve.

A normal person without a broken brain would take this as a threat. Why am I attracted to this?

He makes eye contact with you over the barrel, turning his hand and resting the muzzle on your cheek, but there is no fear in you, you can see his trigger finger resting on the side of the barrel.

“Do you trust me Y/N?” Bucky asks, his eyes not moving from yours.

You take a second to think about it.

The man is a fucking mobster for Christs’ sake. He’s a criminal, a gun runner, a drug trafficker, and not to mention a killer. His kills have hit the news before, no evidence proving it was his organisation, but everyone knows. It doesn’t matter if it was Bucky that pulled the trigger, held the knife, planted the bomb, nothing happened that wasn’t on his order. Can I really trust a man like that?

Your hesitation to answer has an effect on Bucky. He moves the gun, dragging it down your neck and resting the muzzle in the dip of your collar bone. You look down at his hand, finger still nowhere near he trigger.

“Y/n.” He calls quietly. Your eyes jump back to his and he speaks again, “do you think I would ever hurt you?”

That question has an answer you don’t have to think about.

“Not unless I did something to deserve it.” Your attempt at humour was immediately seen to be the wrong answer.

He sticks the gun back in your face, muzzle pushing between you lips, scratching your teeth. The movement causes your eyes to go wide, fear slipping onto your face.

“Did you do something to deserve it? Have you fucked me over Y/n?” His voice is tense, deadly serious, an unstable look in his eyes, his metal hand tightening on your wrists.

You lean back a little to answer, “…no, no of course not Buck. What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

He stares at you for what feels like hours, his face perfectly still, not giving anything away.

She doesn’t know. She truly has no idea. Thank fuck.

He drops the gun and lets go of your wrists, taking a few steps back, giving you space.

“I’m sorry doll, I’ve just had very hard day, some new information was given to me and it’s fucked me up a bit. I’m sorry Y/n, truly I am, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” His hands run through his hair, pulling at it harshly. “Shit darlin’, what the hell was I doing?” He mumbles the last bit to himself.

“Buck..Bucky, hey calm down, it’s okay-” you start before he talks again.

“It’s not okay! I just put a fucking gun in your face.” He keeps rambling, seeming like a whole other person than he was a minute ago.

“Buck! Stop, stop jabbering,” you grab his wrists, taking his hands from his hair and pulling him towards you.

He stops talking, and stares at your hands in his, the metal of his prosthetic shining a stark contrast against your skin.

You take a second to look at him, eyes studying his face. He looks worried, and a little scared.

Huh, didn’t know a mobster could get scared. Is he’s scared of me and what I’m gonna say… or is he scared of himself?

“You don’t scare me Buck…you probably should, but you don’t. ‘Cos you’ve been nothing but good to me, even a minute ago when you were acting weird, I knew you weren’t gonna do anything-”

“How? How did you trust me to not hurt you, when I was waving my glock in your face?”

“You had your finger on the barrel”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking over what you said. He takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky responds.

“Then don’t say anything.” You say, the imagine of him with a gun in his hand fresh in your mind.

That whole episode should not have been as hot as it was. Shit I’m fucked up.

Bucky stares at you (he does that a-lot), unsure of his next move.

“Kiss me, dumbass.”

He moves before you can blink, his hands gently grabbing your face and pulling you to him. His kiss takes your breath away, gentle but firm. Your hands grip his elbows, encouraging him to keep going.

He takes the hint (thank fuck) and splits your lips with his tongue, his nose pressed hard against your cheek. He moves his hands down to your hips, gripping hard. Your hands grip the back of his head, fingers playing with his hair, tugging at it slightly when he completely deepens the kiss, your tongues tangling together. He lets out a quiet groan at the feeling, taking his left hand off your hip and tensing it by his side. You break the kiss when you feel the loss of his touch.

You take a second to catch your breath, Bucky leaning his head against yours.

“Why did you take your hand off me?” You ask.

“What?” He responds, the small dazed look on his face making you chuckle a little.

“Your hand, I liked it where it was.”

“Oh..that. It’s uh..it’s pretty strong, I can’t tell how hard I’m holding something, I can’t feel it so I tend to hold things a bit too hard… I broke like 5 cups in the past week-” he answers, stuttering his way through the sentence.

“Stop talking Buck, and you say I ramble,” You say, putting your finger to his lips. He stops talking, and you continue, “I trust you Buck, I’ll tell you if you’re holding me too hard. Plus I like it a little rough.” You finish with a wink at him, pulling his hand back to your waist.

He drops his head back, eyes closed and takes a deep breath in. He mumbles under his breath something that sounds like ‘god you’re perfect’, then he crashes his lips back into yours, both hands tightening on your hips.

He moves faster now, more intense with his kiss, his teeth scraping yours slightly and he presses you backwards, walking with you until you bump into the wall, his flesh hand stopping your head from hitting it.

Aww how sweet. The thought is thrown from your head when Bucky drops his head and presses kisses to your jaw, his hand curling in your hair to pull your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, as he licks a long stripe up your neck, nipping at the pulse points he finds. Your hands drop to his hips and pull him flush to you, groaning when you feel how much you’ve affected him. He kisses his way back to your lips, his metal hand moving to rest on the side of your neck, thumb resting in the front of your neck. Bucky gives you a long hard kiss then pulls back breathing hard.

“God girl, you are gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks.

“Fuck I hope not,” you respond, pulling his hips tighter against yours making him choke back a groan at the feeling.

His phone starts to ring.

Fuck off.

You pull him to you again, lips trailing across his jaw.

“Shit doll, wait a second baby-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Wait? Wait for what Buck, you don’t want me?” You tease, brushing your nose along his.

He crashes his lips against yours, his ringtone fading as his kiss overtakes your mind. Bucky pulls back after a few seconds, growling softly before stepping back to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you seriously gonna answer that?” You ask, incredulous to his action.

“I have to darlin, could be an emergency,” he answers, taping the screen to answer. He puts the phone to his ear and says, “talk to me.”

You ignore his conversation, grabbing his metal hand to inspect it. The plates shift as you turn it over to look at the palm.

What an incredible feat of engineering, I wonder how it works. And how it feels-

Your dirty thoughts are cut short as he pulls his hand out of your grip, turning and taking a few steps away from you. His voice is quiet, probably to keep you from hearing whatever illegal shit they were discussing.

You jump when he shouts.

“THE FUCK? Rogers you get them to find more information on those shitheads, or I swear to fuck I will rip their fucking hearts out. I don’t care anymore, this shit needs to stop right the fuck now!” He stops his tirade and listens to ‘Rogers’ on the other side for a few second before he starts up again, “I know that asshole…one of the fuckers is married, find the wife… I have no idea if she’s involved man, I doubt it but she’d be good leverage… and get me some more information on their business so I’m not going into this shit show unprepared.”

That gets your full attention. Find the wife? Leverage? And do what? Threaten her? Hurt her? …kill her?

A shiver rips its way down your spine at that thought.

Would he do that? If she’s not a part of the issue, would he still hurt her? He already proved he’d hurt anyone that fucked him over, proved that when he stuck his gun in my mouth.

“Yeah…I know, get Stark on it, send Talia and Barton out too, see if they can get any news on the street… tell Barton to keep his cool, I don’t need anymore shit right now” Bucky says, switching the phone to his metal hand, using his flesh one to pull at his hair again.

His back is still turned to you, his coat stretches over his shoulder, the back rising with his hand in his hair.

He has a gun in his waistband.

Your eyes flit to the glock he drop on the floor earlier, and back to the one tucked in his waistband.

Is two guns really necessary?

Your answer comes with his next sentence.

“Fuck Steve I know that…you think I got this far without any personal protection? I’m good if anything happens man but I don’t think it will, they seemed pretty insistent on the fact they meant no harm..”

He continues to talk for a minute until he ends the call with a quick “get it done Steve, or we’re all fucked.” He places the phone back in his pocket, takes a few deep breaths and turns back to you with a tense look on his face. He takes another deep breath and steps towards you. Without meaning to you take a step back, hitting the wall behind you. Bucky stops as soon as he sees your movement.

“Sorry about that sweetheart, didn’t mean to upset ya.” He says, his voice quiet and calm, as if he was talking to a injured dog.

You let the silence linger for a second, deciding whether or not to ask the question that was begging to be said.

Fuck it.

“What are you going to do to her?”

He tilts his head at the question, unsure of what you’re talking about.

You take pity on his confusion.

“The wife? What are you going to do when you find her?”

Something settles in his eyes, his mouth twisting into a grim line.

“Nothing…unless I have to.” Bucky responds.

His answer does nothing to calm your pounding heart.

“You mean you won’t do anything unless you find out she’s involved?”

“Yes.”

“So you won’t do anything if she’s not a part of …whatever it is?” You ask.

“That’s right.” He nods with his answer.

“Except use her as leverage?”

He’s silent for a moment, and sighs as he rolls his left shoulder. He doesn’t break eye contact, and he’s completely resigned to whatever his answer is about to be.

“If I have to.” There is no lie in his voice, no guilt or remorse in his eyes.

Holy fuck. There’s the soldier again, the man with no mercy, does whatever he needs to come out on top.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

He wouldn’t hurt me. Would he?

He answers like he heard your thought.

“It’s business doll, we do what we have to do. Sometimes it’s rough and bad and awful and yes, people get hurt. Sometimes even innocent people get hurt. But I will never apologise for being the one that does the hurting, me and mine have had our fair share of getting hurt, and I’d rather hurt and use some people I don’t care about, than watch my people, my family, get hurt. I will not allow that to happen, not when I can to something about it.” He stands straight, like a soldier. The conviction in his voice actually makes you feel calmer.

Assuming I’m someone he cares about, I should be fine, right?

It slips off your tongue before you can catch it.

“Do you care about me?” You shift your weight as you talk, unsure if you actually want to hear the answer.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He states, his tone steady.

“Say it properly,” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest, a subconscious way of protecting yourself, “I need you to say it properly Bucky.”

He shifts his weight now, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Yes… I do care about you,” he answers, clearing his throat in the middle of his statement, “do you care about me?”

You were unprepared for him to flip it back on you.

“I need you to answer truthfully Y/n. Do you care about me, as I am? The ‘big bad mobster’” he says, taking a step closer to you, and taking another when you don’t move away from him.

“The man who broke into your flat to threaten your roommate who owes me? The one who was going to shoot your friends dead on the street? The one who stuck a gun in your face? I’m a killer Y/n, a fucking mobster, and I’m not changing any time soon. Do you care about me as I am?” He asks, reminding you of the shit he’s done since you met him, not even counting the things you haven’t heard about.

You take a second to consider his questions.

I think I do, how fucked am I that I do?

You finally clock what he said.

“You were going to shoot who dead on the street?!”

————

hehehehe I feel like an evil mastermind.

If you are not tagged here- I either will tag you in a separate post- or I cannot tag you for some reason.

Tags:

@shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck

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[lovebvni]

intuitive messages pac !!

THIS IS FROM 2023!! BE FOREWARNED

┈

│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

╰─────────────────

[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 7.31.23

[  ] published ⋮  7.31.23

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hello earthlings, its been a while since i've done a pac, mainly because of MANY personal issues - but thats not important. i thought for a while and went back to my old pac's and i found an older one i made and i remembered, my intuition is just as powerful as ever - so why do i need tarot cards now?

today i'm just going to have 10 messages/sentences the universe wants you to hear. they can be specific or general.  remember, take everything can be taken with a grain of salt, and your future can be changed. you are in control.

now please, find your inner peace, connect to your soul.

understand these messages were meant to find you, and see what is left for you.

inhale, exhale, and pick a pile

Pile 1 - Watching

confirmation :

procrastinating, pushing things off, turning the other cheek, tumblr, the colour purple (show or the actual colour), spacing out, spirits, double meaning, two faced, gemini, hidden meanings/words, red eyes (tired, puffy), burnt out, music, 'good night, sleep tight, don't let the demons fight.', the letter s, sharks, 'the grass is greener'.

side note : the month of august (summer in general) be significant for your shifting/spiritual journey.

Your messages

1. Why would you wait when you could just grab at it? It's right there. Don't let it rot.

2. "Hello? Are you there, listening? Listen to me. I'm here to help. I promise." (this could be an inner voice or a spirit guide)

3. Be your own boss. Keep going.

4. Pass on to the next step (Death to life)

5. You know what's there, talk to it. "I wont hurt you."

6. Listen, don't speak.

7. Let it go. Be like Elsa, don't let it bother you anymore.

8. Mind, Body and Soul. You're in harmony. Use it to your advantage.

9. Advise and criticize. And use the same techniques on yourself.

10. Peace and love. You deserve it. You know you do. And you will find it, soon.

Pile 2 - Renew

conformation :

saiki k, giving up, letting go, leaving things behind, mental overload, 'Jesus fucking Christ', jealous, letting go of that person, shadow work, yellow, outlook, aries, the moon, big lips, 333, the number 3.

Your messages

1. Bite down. Let it flow into your veins, your soul, your spirit. Its part of you now.

2. Is it a real worry, or just something from your past you don't want to let go of?

3. Jail. Time to rest. Now.

4. Eat and care for your physical body. You can't idolize shifting. You're not getting anywhere doing that.

5. Look in the mirror - no. Not at the past. At who you are now. Who you've become.

6. You have the balls. Go fucking do it.

7. Don't accept the truth from other people, find and make your own. That's what they see, not what you know.

8. Her claws. Her teeth. She's manipulating you. Let her go. Rip away from her. She's wasting your time, energy and draining your soul.

9. "I  DO love you. That doesn't mean I'll let you hurt yourself."

10. I am watching. Always. In your good times and bad. I'm here for you. Just ask for help.

Pile 3 - Love

confirmation :

wrist and elbow, jumpscares/ being scared, saturn, planets, fnaf, cycles, broken cycles, love watch, soulmate reuniting, mha (lmao bro idek at this point), drawing, heartache, feeling lonely, barbie, hip dips, trios.

1. Wake up from that dream and make it a reality, you know what you have to do, so go do it.

2. "Beg for my mercy." - This had a VERY sexual undertone... Obviously from a dominant partner or something

3. 'Hello again, my friend! What do you have to tell me now?"

4. You know that thing you asked for? Yeah. It's coming. Keep your eyes pealed (for some I heard it's even coming tomorrow!)

5. Sit in silence, you know what it is. You hear the voices.

6. Pack your bags and go.

7. Grab on, I'll lead you to where you need to be.

8. Don't chase what you're attracting, that will only lead to disaster. (A manifestation you wanted is coming, this is basically saying don't overwork and beat yourself up over it. It's coming and nothing will stop it.)

9. Nature is your friend. Go out and ground yourself. Lay in the grass, smell the rain.

10. If you want to learn, you need the knowledge. Search for what you want to find. You can see it. Ask around. You'll find it. Look, look, look, search, look look, search, find.

I hope this pac resonated for everyone! remember, this will find you when you need it, take what relates, leave what doesnt. remember you are in charge of your future.

i love you. new things are coming.

dont give up.

1111

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[soraviie]

coming home tired.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ navigation

━ about: fluff! (maybe some angst you all know how it is)

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ lmao I don't like this. Anyway, Ice Age 1 and 2 absolutely peak entertainment

NAMJOON | The second the slippers are on your feet, you trudge to the bed and toss yourself face first into the mattress. With a bit of luck, you could suffocate yourself like this. A low whistle rises from up behind you and squinting with one eye open, you spot a sympathetic looking Namjoon standing in the doorway.

“That bad, huh?” he drawls and you groan at the mere mention of it.

“Don’t even remind me,” you plop your face back into a pillow where your voice can only barely be heard as a muffled whisper. “I’m seriously thinking of quitting.”

“You say that all the time,” he rolls his eyes to which you take some offence. With narrowed stare, you glare back at him, cringing at how palpable the sweat on your back is. 

“You’re supposed to be my boyfriend-”

“Supposed to be,” Namjoon scoffs just as if not more offended. “I am your boyfriend.”

“And boyfriends are supposed to be comforting when their partners are feeling down,” you scorned. “Not be snide. I swear you treat me as bad as Monie. We should both leave.”

“I treat you both well!” the volume of Namjoon's voice suddenly rises and you cannot help but wince as it hits against the pounding baseline of an oncoming migraine. Immediately, he forces his voice to a much quieter tone, a sound no more than a vague whisper whilst an indisputable shade of concern appearing in his eyes. 

“Is it that bad? Do you need to go on a sick leave?”

“No, no,” you wave him off, crawling off the bed with no meagre amount of difficulty. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time when “after a bit” has grown to be you drooling in deep sleep on the pillow, still fully dressed only to then wake up at 2 am incredibly hungry. “I’m just a bit tired, that's all.”

“You be careful, alright?”

Namjoon’s face still has a sort of worried film to it as though he’s caught between two possible options of how to make everything better and knowing him, he probably was.

“Do you want me to read to you?” 

“You hate it.”

“But I like you so…”

You try not to, however, a small smile still stubbornly worms its place onto your lips and it’s soon echoed on Namjoon's own expression. He outstretches his hand and it isn't long before you grasp it.

“Come on,” he throws his head towards that god awful hellscape of a seat that you detest so much but had no heart to tell as Namjoon had grown fond of it. “Let’s get your mind off things.”

Though there is a wolf-like whistle as you change out of the work clothes for which he gets a shirt thrown into his face, largely the evening is spent in civil spirits.

“How about we eat before?”

Instantly, your blood curdles and from where you’re perched on the end of the grey sofa, you throw Namjoon a deeply, deeply anxious glance. He doesn’t miss it and after once again rolling his eyes because damned if Kim Namjoon wasn’t a passive aggressive bastard, he wraps a precarious hand over your shoulders and grumbles —

“I didn’t cook anything myself. Don’t worry.”

“Thank god,” you sigh and get pinched in the side. 

Some would say it’s simple, almost boring but time with Namjoon, wanted or not, fair or unfair, was limited. Moments like these — with your back pressed against his side as you curl up onto the sofa, a leftover pizza laying in front was a luxury. He was rarely if ever at home and it seems that even he gathers as much as his lips seek out his beloved spot on the side of your temple and press a feathery kiss. Simple — yes but precious all the same and you couldn’t thank him enough for just being here. 

“Now where were we…” you mutter to yourself, haphazardly sorting through the pile of books laid like a fallout rubble on every surface nearby. Taking advantage of the bared skin of your back, the tips of his fingers softly graze along your spine, mutely inviting you to return into his hold.

"Why do you check out so many books if you never read them?" he grumbles.

"Why would I read them if I can have you do that for me?"

"Tyrant."

"I know you are but what am I?"

The sheer volume of his exasperated sigh is almost enough to wipe your tired state clean off.

"Behave," Namjoon warns lowly, letting his head fall back on the headrest. "Otherwise, I'll just put you to bed."

You give him an angelic smile but comply, offering the book of choice only to frown when he is too eager to grasp it. There's even a twinkle to his eye.

“A cliche of story,” you grouse underneath your breath, mocking the same words Namjoon had said after forcefully reading or as he insisted “surviving” the first chapter. “My ass.”

Nonetheless, save for a few laughs, there is not much that you talk about. There’s no need to share a conversation, just the feeling of his warm skin is enough to sate the void his absence left behind.  And with it, the stress slowly abates, unclenching its grip from you, sentence by sentence as Namjoon's voice cruises through the evening.

YOONGI | You don’t quite know how your jaw has not yet unhinged off your face, stretched to its absolute limits by the snake-like yawns but you’re thankful for it anyhow. Another one breaks out the second you’re over the threshold and that is what greets Yoongi instead of a smile or a single, coherent greeting. 

“You’re home early,” you point out, withering out quickly. So much so for reading a book or watching a movie, or tackling any amount of apparently never-ending chores.

“Yeah,” he shrugs off, seemingly unconcerned but those slanted, all too observant eyes track the slope of your tired back — the way you collapse into yourself, unable to fully stand neither still nor straight — and with it his lips purse into a thin, displeased line. 

“I’m fine Yoon, don’t worry about it,” you call out with a shake of the hand. You don’t think he buys it. 

“I’m sure,” he replies simply, tone aggravatingly pleasant, not a hitch, not a crumble for you to catch onto his motives. “Let’s get you into something cozier.”

Peeling off the layers of those impersonal, pretentious clothes makes you cringe. The sweat that had been subtly building under the material is sticky and for a second you almost wish Yoongi would be at the studio like usual. Not much of a looker — sweaty and as appealing as worm splattered underneath the car’s wheel. 

“Cute,” you hear a mutter behind you and turning around, you find Yoongi standing before you, chin in hands, almost appraising you the way an art critic would a rare painting. 

“I’m not cute right now,” you grouse. Yoongi was never one to sugar coat things, so why begin now?

“You’ll always be cute.”

There is an audible offence in his tone and something in it makes you wanna tease him and almost begrudgingly you have to admit that yet again his master plans proved to be fruitful — the accumulated tension was slowly dissolving in the air around you. 

“Even if I’m 90 and all my teeth are gone?”

“Well then I’ll be just as old and we can expire together.”

You shake your head with a barely suppressed smile and suddenly the home feels that much warmer. Not just four walls with a buzzing fridge, droning of the vapid TV and somewhat unsettling emptiness but an actual home. 

“Always the romantic Yoon.”

“I drew you a bath,” he throws his head towards the closed bathroom doors. “Get in.” 

There’s not a space left in that statement for you to argue and thinking about it, you didn’t want to. The water is in perfect temperature, betraying the amount of time you’ve been together and seeing the purple foam sitting atop of the scented waterline as candles laid around hobbled on the nearby surfaces,  tears rush to your eyes. 

Sometimes it was good to cry, be it out of joy, sadness or just as a way to release things and while for some it might seem bizarre to hear your cries in the bath, even somewhat disconcerting but Yoongi knew better and he knew when to simply give you space. 

By the time you get out of the bath, pruned almost to the bone, your head feels hazy — emptier but soft at the edges. The second you see Yoongi setting up the table, you nuzzle into him, practically melting against his frame. For a second he freezes, out of the corner of the eye you glimpse how his features widen in a shock-stricken expression but once the moment inevitably passes, he plays it cool, pretending that there isn’t a pink blush nestling prettily on top of his cheekbones. 

“My, my, you really are tired,” he calls out, gingerly prying your hands away, largely to sit you in the nearby chair. Yet another sign of the sheer exposure you've had with each other over the years — when you clung, you clung, more than once lazing atop of Yoongi as though he was your own personal body pillow. He put up with it like he did with most of you — possessing endless kindness and patience. 

"Some soup, nothing fancy," he explains, sliding a spoon your way. "It'll fill you up but won't give indigestion."

"Thank you. You're the best."

He doesn't respond to the compliment with anything credible, just something whined softly through a pout. The dinner passes by in a blur as you try to listen to Yoongi's day. The guilt gnaws with sharpened teeth - at your own inability to focus on what he's saying -but the haze spindles its spidery web too tight around your body and quickly enough, you sink into the mattresses absolutely boneless. 

"This just needs one thing," you hear Yoongi muttering overhead and after a beat during which you might as well have fallen into some form of micro sleep, he returns back, paddling quietly across the plush carpet carrying none other than an extremely sleepy and confused Min Holly. The poodle sniffs slightly, veering as he suddenly finds himself put on the bed but then simply decides to snuggle up the pillow next to you — an arrangement that often resulted in Yoongi putting up a fuss over being exiled from his own bed. Though tonight there is no tantrum and quietly you dream of soft hands caressing your head before inviting dark embraces you whole.

JIN | "So you don't want to come out?" 

The blanket shakes in a definitive no, pulling from him a deep, deep sigh. "Alright but just text if you need me."

For a second, more so out of instinct than anything, he thinks of leaning down, brushing away this ridiculous blanket you've cocooned yourself in and planting a kiss on your forehead - like he always does- but something in the way you're so obstinately clinging to it stops him and instead he lays his lips atop of it, allowing you to hide away from the world. When the ends of your ears perk at the sound of the closing doors, you slowly push the blanket onto the floor, gulping down large breaths of fresh air. 

Jin was nice, you liked Jin, obviously as you lived together, but sometimes…sometimes a person just needed to be on their own. The way you move throughout the house is largely mindless. Something is playing in the background, what - you don't know. You don't put much focus on what passes between your hands - the vacuum, the window cleaner — it's just a motion. A motion required so that the tension doesn't flay you whole. It's not like you particularly want to do so — the lower back pain surely is a sign you don't want to but it is needed. The nagging thoughts of something being not done in the house will just nag you on and coupled with the stress from work, you didn't put it past your body to become the first person on the planet whose head popped from their shoulders and become airborne. 

It is when you're in the middle of battling one very annoying corner of the front entrance when Jin comes home. All too soon you hear the code pressed on the outside and you greet him as such, standing and staring like a deer in headlights with vacuum in one hand and a wet wipe in another. For a passing moment, Jin simply takes you in, a wrinkle of thorough confusion marking his face. Then as if to come to a foregone conclusion, he sighs, places the many, many takeaway boxes that tower dangerously all together in a green plastic bag on the console nearby and struts forward. You almost go in to defend yourself be it verbally or with a vacuum cleaner but he simply disregards it and places a palm right over your forehead. 

“As I thought,” he mumbles solemnly. “You’re running a fever.”

Immediately you check yourself, in the hurry almost letting the vacuum hit the ground had Jin not caught it at the last second.

“No, I’m not,” you protest but deep down you've grasped that your hand is sweaty and that your head feels…heated, somehow. “I don’t want to take a sick leave!”

Jin was often an easy-going man, never a joke missing when he was around, never a moment weighing too heavily but he was still an adult and sometimes…sometimes he put his foot down. 

“But you are,” he insists with a deadpan tone. Both of your hands are forcibly freed from the items in them as you’re spun around and pushed towards the bed, your socks providing no grip to fight the movement. “Better one sick day today than a whole month later. Remember November?”

“I remember November,” you huff begrudgingly. “But it’s not that bad.”

“_________,” the sound of your name falling from his mouth with not a lick of usual laughter or any form of fond exasperation rings like a cannon shot through your ears, making you shrink smaller. “You’re tired. Just rest. Everything else will fall into place.”

You grow limp under his touch and let yourself be carded back into bed, no huff, no puff. Vaguely it’s reminiscent of Jin’s own temper tantrums as he battled a cold two months ago. You’d chided him then for acting like a spoiled child with a silver spoon both in his mouth and up his ass and you know now that it was merely an act of the infamous pot calling the egregious kettle black. There is a twinkle of vindication in Jin’s eyes even if he does not say it out loud. The session of being made fun of was simply postponed due to the pitifulness of your state alas not entirely avoided.

“Now, let your boyfriend take care of you,” bright is Jin’s smile as he beams down upon you from one ear to the next but the pat on your head dours the cheesy sentiment if he even had any to begin with.

“I’m not a dog,” you gruff, wrenching his hand away but as Jin saunters away, dignified as ever, “could have fooled me” is tossed casually over his shoulder. 

HOSEOK | “You don’t have any plans later in the evening?” 

Because it was 6:30 of a quiet Monday morning and you had assumed that Hoseok hadn’t come home at all, given how you’d gone to sleep alone and woke up as such, the question poised from a poked-in head, partially hidden by a steam of running shower, it came as a no surprise you were scared shitless. Nursing the elbow that was so rudely slammed against the tiled wall, you replied that no, you did not have any plans. 

“Great! Love you!” 

The only thing you heard after were quick, running footsteps and then — silence. 

“Love you too,” you muttered to the empty air. “Whatever that was.”

But Hoseok did sometimes do odd things and so as the work day reared its vicious Hydra head you forgot all about it, too submerged in the rising pile of problems. 

By the time you shuffle out of the work doors, there is a deadpan expression upon your face and even more upon your soul. You’re tired and the outlook of coming  back — yet again! — tomorrow makes it all the more draining. As you drudge your way down the main street there is only one dream floating almost palpable before your eyes and that is your bed. The very thought of immediately propelling yourself underneath the fluffy duvet and dozing off to a good music is a piece of private heaven you’re salivating after and all that was needed was to go home.

If only it would be that easy. 

A sleek, black car rolls in front of you, so crudely that only by the last pinch of your nerves you do not curse the driver out then and there. It’s a blessing you do not as the window rolls down and you find none other than your boyfriend sitting joyfully on the other side. 

“Are you abducting me, good sir?” you call out and Hoseok opens the doors from the inside, invitingly patting the seat next to him.

“Yes, now get in. This is not legal parking.”

At first, you hum happily along to the song playing on the radio. Sure, Hoseok makes a weird turn — it definitely does not belong to the usual route but maybe that was him trying to evade the congested traffic. A second one? Your hum falters but still you persist. You were still going in the correct general direction and if anything you should be grateful about being rescued from the overcrowded hell that is public transport in a rush hour. But once the third turn is taken and you no longer recognize the area, the soft happiness blossoming in your body freezes and for a fact refuses to thaw. 

“Uhh…Hoseok?”

“Hmm?”

“Where are we going?”

“To the mall.”

If feasible, your brain would make a sound similar to a record being pulled under the needle of the player. And then smashed against the fucking wall. 

“The mall?” you echo slowly, however Hoseok remains blissfully oblivious and smiles as your dream of bed and rotting rest shatters into unmendable pieces. 

“Yeah! You’ve been working so hard! You definitely need some new gifts. Name whatever you want, I’ll get!”

Get me home, is what flashes through your mind but even thinking about it feels ungrateful of sorts. Thus,  you bite your teeth into a pained smile.

“Yay,” though you try to sound enthusiastic it comes out more like a squeaking cry of a dying animal. 

Having three bodyguards flickering in and out of your periphery as blinding mall lights blare overhead was not your idea of fun in the best of days but even less so after the dogshit that was work on this particular Monday. 

Suddenly Hoseok shoves a string of pearls underneath your noise, with an overeager “try this!”. You oblige but something in the look does not please him and quickly the pearls are swapped for another, a tad more delicate piece.  

The longer you trail after him, the more your eyes droop downward. It becomes too difficult to even properly focus on walking let alone on what Hoseok is saying. Covertly, you try to slump against him while on the escalator and once more Hoseok misinterprets this as an expression of affection, cooing at it. 

You do not have the heart to tell him you were seconds away from crawling into the bathroom and sleeping there.  

“Which shoes do you like better? These ones or these ones?” 

Strategically, you position yourself on the plush albeit hard chair of the shoe shop.

“They’re both good,” you mutter and the next time you open your eyes, a muted darkness stands before you. For a second, your heart leaps, dry spit curls up at the back of your throat but as the second passes, so does the fear. The dark slowly abates and the familiar feeling and smell of your comforter drags you back into the peace.

You’re home. 

There is a vague clattering coming from the closed bedroom doors and as you drop back onto the pillows with a sigh of deep relief, it stops only for someone to move closer. 

As Hoseok opens the doors, he stands in them for a while wearing a gentle but knowing smile. 

“If you didn’t want to go, you could have just said so.”

You screw your eyes shut, feeling the end of a headache coming back up from behind the eye sockets.

“Did you drag me back?” you groan, sinking deeper into the mattress as though it could possibly save you in any way.

“With some help,” Hoseok nods, throwing a towel to rest over his shoulder. “You were out of it.”

“I’m  sorry,” you glance at him from the covers, turning your voice much more earnest. The feelings of ungratefulness cling to your chest, creating a heavy, pressing sensation. How much time really did you have with Hoseok? Hours,  minutes? Versus the days that he was entrenched deep into work or worse on tour. You ought to spend every moment with him, radiating nothing but happiness but it was just…

You were just too tired. 

“I really am.”

“Don’t stress about it. But really just tell me next time that you don’t want to go and would rather sleep instead. Trust me, I would understand.”

You nod along to his words, giving a mute promise though it's one he accepts. 

“Besides there’s always online shopping,” he supplies lightly before his smile warps to cut a  bit too deep into cheek and too devious in its hue. “And I can always spoil you in other ways.”

JIMIN | The second your aching feet drag over the warm threshold, you don’t even let Jimin finish his greeting, instead propelling yourself tiredly into his chest, self-indulgently wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“What’s this?” he chuckles softly, placing one cheek upon the top of your head — you could feel the weight of his motion. It rests on you like a heavy blanket, relaxing yet not caging. “Since when are you so nice to me?”

“Oh, shut it,” you hiss meagerly, cheek still ruffling against the thin material of his grey t-shirt.  “I’ve always been nice to you.”

“Debatable,” he laughs but it quickly sizzles into a low hum. “Long day?” 

“Felt like it would never end.”

Dinner is eaten quickly, with you mostly scarfing down whatever is put down before you and Jimin occasionally throwing a worried glance though he chooses not to give these concerns a voice. You’re grateful for the silence — too exhausted in your own right to dwell on what should soon turn into a hazy, near non-existent memory. 

The sofa underneath your back is pliant enough and slinking onto the too small decorative pillows, the same ones Jimin had sworn would be perfect as you had stood in IKEA checkout line, you feel your eyes fall downward — not slow and steady, but definitive and pointed like a crash of a rock.

Jimin’s voice floats above the cotton-candy haze that circles the ends of your eyes and maybe vaguely you catch the tail of a sentence. 

“...movie?” is all you hear and deeply not caring, you nod along, still partially clinging to his arm. 

“Something you like…” Jimin mutters under his breath. “The Notebook is always great.”

“I literally have never liked that movie.”

He lets his mouth open in truly horrendous offence, placing a palm over his chest as though you’ve just stabbed him with a kitchen knife. 

“Blasphemy! And in my own home too!”

Imperiously, you make a grab at him, settling yourself to lay partially on his torso. 

“It’s our home, you menace.”

“Ah, and there they are! So I thought you being nice earlier was suspicious.”

But even as he’s saying it, there’s a lingering presence of suppressed smile etched across his lips. 

“Just play something,” you mutter, not even bothering to maintain the appearance of  wakefulness. 

“What about “cold eyes”?” he suggests, switching contemplatively between the select options, each one playing an annoying loud 

“That’s still your favourite movie. I like “The Lighthouse”.”

As expected an immediate wrinkle of distaste curls up his nose as he regards your suggestion. Apparently taking in a noir coloured fever dream seeped in oceanic nightmares had not been his favourite way to spend an evening and though he endured it once, more thanks to his apparently endless love for you than patience, you doubted the chances of him laying his eyes on the production ever again.

“A compromise,” he suggests, by now only barely able to move as you melt into him, your tired bones demanding a rest. How could even one’s inner thigh muscles hurt you did not know but such was the reality. 

“Ice age.”

“Deal.”

It’s not even five minutes into the movie that the warm colours flashing on the screen, not to mention the rub of Jimin’s fingers tenderly grazing against your scrap, lulls you into deep, exhausted sleep. Jimin doesn't wake you.

TAEHYUNG | Though the headphones squeeze on your ears in a manner that manages to somehow be both painful and itching, you pour all of your focus into the pot of soup boiling on the counter. The sensory hell that is extractor hood whirrs overhead and while you hate both the steam making everything just a touch too hot and the noise being a touch too grading, it does the trick. It completely overwhelms your mind and with it the piled up anxiety. The sudden light touch, light yes but unmistakably belonging to a human hand, forces some form of primal scream out from your throat and you’re met face to face with equally wide-eyed, equally frightened Kim Taehyung. Who is in your house. 

You almost ready the ladle as a weapon of sorts but the fleeting voice of reason reminds you, he is in your home because this is the home you share.

Because you’re dating, it goes to supply and you’re thankful that it does otherwise you would have just slammed your boyfriend into the kitchen ground with the aforementioned ladle. 

He attempts to speak or at least so you assume from the way his mouth moves.

“Just give me a sec!” you point at your earphones in the still lingering confusion momentarily forgetting to how to turn off the blasting music that just a second ago was mind numbing in a pleasant way but now has grown to be an auditory guillotine.

At last you manage the Bluetooth connected mess and pushing back the hair from your face, you huff, trying to sound light and miserably failing in one fell swoop.

“Why-why are you home so early?” 

Taehyung quirks his head to the side and those soulful, terribly wary eyes glide over your face in suspicion. 

“Was I not supposed to?” 

You almost don’t stammer when answering “no”. Taehyung hums but it doesn’t feel either like a response or the final sentence in the otherwise lackluster conversation. If anything it’s a wordless noise of suspicion and you begin to sweat under its weight. 

“You look like you haven’t slept a week,” he points out, not overtly trying to be accusing outright but similarly failing as well. At first your mind leaps and bounds to white lies, some smaller some bigger but as his gaze grows more expressive, more analytic you wither and simply confess like a child would after eating too much candy from a jar that was specifically left for guests.

“That’s because I haven’t.”

Taehyung nods, clearly having suspected as much. 

“And I assume the reason why you were unpleasantly surprised by my arrival is that like any other night, you wanted to make something quick, then sit yourself in front of three devices all playing different things and then letting yourself rot in an unmade bed?”

You twiddle with your thumbs. 

“Yes. Are you mad?” 

He looks mad, however because this was Taehyung the next second his face blooms with pity and you find yourself surrounded by two arms and what feels like a cashmere sweater. 

“Oh my baby.”

The beginnings of what feels like straying tears rush forward but still for now you force them down. Disconnecting, for the first time you look Taehyung properly over. What initially seemed like nothing but put-together pillars of stability when compared to your crumbling statue ebbs away and in the muted light of the kitchen you see. The downturned corners of his mouth, the eye bags obstinately clinging to his face, the hair that hangs over said eyes, clearly unkempt, obviously trying to hide something he deemed too personal to share with the rest of the world.

Other than you that is.

Once again it rips out of you without much consent or thorough planning of the brain:

“You’re tired.”

He laughs but the sound, alike the atmosphere, falls strained. 

“Yeah I am. Can’t sleep much without you.”

The soft ends of his voice, clipping into an exhausted drawl, makes your heart bleed both in pink and red. 

“I’ve been worried about you,” he adds with a deep sigh. “And it seems not entirely without reason.” 

“It’ll be alright,” you try to brush off but without knowing whom you tried to convince more — Taehyung or indeed yourself. He doesn’t much say of anything, merely gives one truly solemn nod and clutches your hand in his grip — ladle and all. 

JUNGKOOK | The second you feel the familiar walls of your home swallow you whole, the full effect of a thoroughly draining day kicks you in the chest. You feel its weight knead at your muscles, turning every strain of it into an over-taut strings of deepened ache. You breathe a weary, albeit content sigh as one sweaty article of clothing is shed after the next. It’s a quiet retaliation — to toss them into the hamper for laundry tomorrow. Thank god for your laundry fairy. 

You hear someone at the door and momentarily the ache disappears in the surge of sheer adrenaline but as the familiar sounds of dog’s nails scraping against the floor reach your ears, you relax once more. 

“Babe?” comes an inquiring voice just seconds before Bam rounds the corner, gleefully wagging his tail at your presence. 

“You’re wet,” you complain but since much like Jungkook, it was impossible to be mad at him, all the dog hears is the pleased sound of your voice so without any inhibitions whatsoever, he noses at your shin, leaking rainwater onto the beige bedroom carpet. Jungkook pokes one head in and you’re not surprised to see that he’s much in the same state.

“And you’re wet as well,” you point out, monotonous, as he shrugs in response. 

“Forgot to take my umbrella.”

You don’t chide him, having honestly no strength to do so. Instead, you plop down onto the bed, stifling  another monstrous yawn, not entirely missing the faint wrinkle of concern carving its way in the space between Jungkook’s eyebrows but choosing to not remark upon it. He was already too worried these last few weeks. Still Jungkook remains Jungkook and not a second after, from his spot in the doorway comes gentle but somewhat of a sternly voiced question. 

“Are you okay? You look…I’m sorry tired is not the word. Drained of your very soul.”

You offer him a mirthless laugh, running a palm over your face. 

“Is it that obvious?” you try to joke but the hint of frailty betrays you. Its note might be faint but for Jungkook with his musical pitch, its laid out bare on a desolate cliff. He doesn’t speak but there’s no need to. His face says it all. 

“It’s just I’ve never not…known things,” you admit, a sense of frustration immediately clutching at your chest. “I’ve always been quick to adapt. A month, two months tops and I’d be like a fish in water but…” the end of the sentence trails off into a frustrated sigh.   

“It’s not your fault they’re not training you properly,” he objects but even so remembers to be quiet. There was no use in shouting and that was the rule you both agreed upon. 

“I know it’s not my fault,” you mumble underneath your nose but even you yourself can hear the disheartened nature of that statement. For long dragging stretches of time, you simply stare at Bam, reaching out to pat him ever so slightly. 

“I’m just…tired, Koo,” at last you state, the final walls breaking down in one, finite statement. 

“I get it,” he echoes somberly, the shared faraway glint in both of your eyes reminding you both of the many, many tired late evening, early mornings and the middle of the nights. Jungkook rouses himself out the soured memory lane first. He shakes his head and paddles over, sitting on the bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

“You want a shoulder massage?” he offers and as his touch settles upon your skin, you wince, prompting a hissing curse from his lips. 

“It’s like a rock, baby,” Jungkook whines in your ear. You try to shrug the sentence away however the flare of unexpected pain puts a firm stop to it. 

“And I don’t think you’ll make it better,” you sigh, trying, in a last ditch attempt, to sound a tad playful. You think it somewhat works as Jungkook pressed a preemptively apologetic kiss to the back of your head. 

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @back2bluesidex; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday Fandom :) We got a trailer! Some bits in is for our couple not a ton but I am intrigued what S6 will bring. This episode has me grinning the entire time. Just fluffy cuteness the entire time and I was so here for it. Kid talks and amazing moments. Good one. This ep Is comedy gold.

5x17 The Enemy Within.

That theme I talked about last ep is how we start off. How adorable they are when they find each other at the station. Lucy speed walking to catch up to him. Tim with the biggest smile on his face. Like he didn’t just see her in roll call earlier. *heart clutch* Just happy to see his wifey at work. I love the effect this woman has on him. (Another theme in this ep). I just love S5 Tim in general. Happy and light seeing her come up to him. Making his day with her presence. Damnit I love them so much. Lucy starting off with him not hating her LMAO His smile dropping off asking what she’s done? Haha

Be more married you too my goodness. I do love how quickly they fall into step with each other as they speak. Seriously never had a couple with such good physical chemistry without even touching. The flirting here is amazing. We watch Tim not really be mad and fighting back a smile in the second gif. Once again the effect this woman has on him is incredible. She is beyond adorable with her retort of how he should reply. We all know Tim could never hate her. Angry, exasperated or annoyed. Yes ha But never hate.

We find out Lucy was playing the long game for getting back at Tim for something. Clearly before they were together since it was for a Tim Test few months back. He wants to know which one? She can't remember...It was bad enough to make her do this but not enough to remember which test. Oh Lucy. lol Angered her enough to do this then forget she'd done it ha Tim asks once again 'What did she do?' Lucy lets him know she signed him up to be a mentor... For make a dream.... Tim is exasperated af asking when she planned this? Lucy dreads the answer but tells him today….

Lucy goes on that a 12 year old cancer patient named Jordy is on his way. Tim walks away from her and I LOVE her grabbing his arm. Making him stay put. Tries to put a good spin on it. Saying he would be lifting up a sick kid. What could be more important than that? Tim commends her for her answer. Telling her nice job boxing him in. Except he’s not going to let her get away with this. Did she really expect him to do this solo? LOL Sassy Tim has arrived and is throwing back her own words at her. Lucy doesn't have a leg to stand on. Just concedes and joins him. Fantastic start to a hilarious episode for them.

Jordy arrives and Tim and Lucy couldn’t be cuter. The way they look at each other is precious. Also hello height difference I always welcome you to our screen. The way Lucy is looking at Tim while he talks to Jordy. Like she needed another reason to be in love with him. Getting glimpses into Tim as a dad. That instant ovary explosion. Don’t blame her one bit.

Tim couldn’t be cuter saying he heard he wants to be a cop. Jordy doesn’t seem as enthused as Tim and Lucy. Nonetheless Tim looks super cute saying they’re going to take him to processing. Lucy’s fully bodied shimmy is so adorable I cannot. She is very excited to play parents with Tim.

They’re in processing and Lucy is trying to get Jordy to engage. Tim isn’t short on sarcasm in this episode. I’m dying it’s so funny. Telling him to look miserable LMFAO. Lucy’s face. Chiding her husband a little bit. But also realizing how unhappy this kid is. Love her walking up to him and sharing her worries as well. Tim noting he looks like he hates them. Lol Lucy doesn’t disagree….Saying maybe he hates his picture being taken? Or he’s miserable cause he’s tired from being sick?

Tim says they should just move onto the next thing then. They turn around and Jordy is gone. Had this kid for all of 20 minutes and they lost him already LOL This episode is so great. Had me rolling the entire time. I remember seeing a hilarious post after this premiered. Celina dealing with her sisters murder, Angela/Harper/Grey dealing with Elijah. And Tim and Lucy keep losing the same kid LMAO They are the comedic relief in this one for sure.

Lucy is in a legit panic. It’s so funny. Saying she doesn’t know what she’s going to tell the foundation. Full on sarcasm saying she can’t wait to tell them they lost him. LOL Tim is so calm and chill. Saying they didn’t lose him... he’s just misplaced LMFAO. Oh my lord Timothy I’m crying I’m laughing so much. She is being the worried sick parent and he’s being the calm one.

I love them looking for Jordy whilst also talking about their future kids. Getting me all in my damn feels. Tim being so friggin chill about them finding him. Lucy saying when it’s ’OUR’ kids OUR. They’re so casual about it. I’m losing my damn mind. That when it is their kids he better take it seriously. Tim defending their future kids also making me feel things. Saying ‘Our’ kids would never pull a stunt like this.

Look at Lucy’s face when he makes that remark though. She is beaming watching him talk about their future kids. They’re trying to murder me in this ep and I’m very ok with it. I may need to go lie down but I’m ok haha Lucy gets caught up in the thought of them having kids. And is pulled back to the present with Tim’s sassy departure LOL Saying they’re doing great so far. Sarcasm king in this one and I love it so very much. Lucy's face when he leaves too funny.

They run into Aaron and he has Jordy. Lucy looks so relieved. She asks what they talked about? Aaron says he kept asking him what his childhood pet was. Lucy looking confused as hell asks why? We see this kid stumble and get nervous for first time. Saying it’s for a report…Tim's face smelling BS but he isn't sure why. They’re trying figure what to do next. Tim suggests the war room? He doesn’t seem excited…Lucy mentions K-9 unit. Ask if he likes dogs?

Tim is over this kid. Saying what kid doesn’t like dogs? (I mean he’s not wrong…) Lucy scolding him like only she can. Such a wifey scolding too it’s so funny. Tim makes the kid sit while they figure this out. Lucy says maybe the impound lot? This is where Uncle Tim comes in and I love it so much. Talking about his nephews and what they’re into right now. My heart. He seems very confused on what it actually is they like and it’s hysterical. Pop culture never been his strong suit and I love him for it. I'll be honest idk what ghosts on the toilet is either. LOL

Lucy is enjoying his explaining this stuff. Amused really. You can tell she’s cracking up as he goes on. Picturing him with his nephews and loving that mental image. They're so busy flirty they don’t see Jordy take off on them again. They turn around and he’s gone….They lost the kid again LMAO Back to being worried parents. They ask the most clueless guy in the building if he’s seen Jordy? Ha Of course he hasn’t…Nolan is lucky he knows what's going on in his own SL.

They’re in Sally Port looking for Jordy. Legit looking under shops. Don’t hate the shot of Tim in this scene. Hello booty shot. His phone starts going off and he groans as he comes back up and says it’s a Grey. Lucy voices her irrational fear about Grey knowing they lost him twice. I’m rolling. Why would he know that Lucy? LOL Tim’s face is everything to this comment of hers. Loves his panicked wife and her ridiculousness.

Lucy is legit pacing back and forth while Tim is on the phone. Grey is asking him to run an OP for him. The last thing Tim needs on his plate right now. It is sexy how he coordinates it and says he’ll fold in later. Mmm. Then asks Lucy if she’s enjoying her revenge for his Tim Test? Lucy says she isn’t... Does a cute little love tap on his arm and has him follow. I love it.

They find Jordy at a computer. Tim scares him and asks what the hell he’s doing? I love the in-sync head tilts. They see he is googling how to delete traffic tickets. Lucy goes off on a nerd rant about how those are processed in a different office. She catches herself and looks at Tim. He’s so used to her nerdy ways at this point doesn't phase him in the least.

Just backs what she’s saying. That even if he could do that here it’s a crime to do so. Poor kid folds. Says his dad told him to because they couldn’t afford the fines. Tim asks if he really has cancer? Lucy scolds him once again. I love this. He tells them yes that part is true. Lucy asks if he wants to be a cop? He says no they’re wack. Lmao The way the look at each other I cannot. The kid wanted a football game not this. HA

Tim mentions if he’s googling this no way he’s a a hacker. Asks how he gained access to the computer? Jordy hands him the sticky note. Tim is so damn incensed I’m dying. Lucy asking did Smitty really need a sticky note? He couldn’t just remember this? I love the way Tim snatches the note and takes off. He is so very done with this day and this kid. Smitty's incompetence being the icing on the cake of his day. This episode is comedy gold I love it sfm.

They bring Jordy’s father in. Telling him they could charge Jordy with a crime. That he had illegal access to a police computer. The dad starts to panic and says they can’t do that. He’s just a kid. He has cancer. Lucy says no one wants to charge Jordy. Him on the other hand… Mr. Yates starts to freak out more. Saying it was just couple tickets. Lucy mentions it’s 37....

Holy crap dude that’s a lot of tickets. That him using his son. A minor no less to help out makes it a felony. One that could send him to jail. The dad pleads with them. Saying his medical costs are crushing them. That if he doesn’t pay for the tickets he’ll lose his license and car. Saying he knows he messed up. He can’t go to jail his family needs him.

Then we hit one of my favorite portions of this episode. Their silent communication has always been a glorious wonder. It hits new heights in this scene. Because the minute he looks at his girl he knows what that look means. It’s why he answers with a ‘Lucy really?’ He goes from you can’t be serious. To how am I supposed to say no to that? Lucy doesn’t have to say a damn word.

That’s the beauty of their connection. Says everything she needs to in that puppy dog look. Man is whipped and we all love it. Her empathy shining through and getting to Tim in this moment. I said it couple times in this episode. The effect this woman has on him is immense. It was continuously through out this one. In the best way possible.

That man has zero defense against that look she gives him. Absolutely zero. Can you imagine a little version of Lucy doing this to him? If they end up having a daughter. She’s gonna have this man wrapped around her finger. Just like his wife does. God help him haha All Lucy had to do was give him that glance and he was in shambles. As we all know Tim would do anything for that woman standing next to him.

He came into this conversation ready to put that man in jail. But then the love of his life looks his way and it’s over. I’ll never be over how amazing their silent communication is. We are so lucky to have a couple this amazing without even saying a word. There’s that country song ‘You say it best. When you say nothing at all.’ If that ain’t them. Tim folds and says he’s not sending Mr. Yates to jail. I love how he looks at Lucy before he tells him that. Knowing she is the reason behind him is doing this.

It’s so good. Man is so soft for his girl and this scene is proof of that. Ugh I love it. Melissa’s and Eric crushing it per usual. Tim says he can go to Daddy and me Traffic school. There’s an arcade that Jordy will love it. As if Lucy needed another reason to love this man next to her. Mr. Yates asks how he can make it up to them? ‘Be a better father to your son’. Hot damn you tell him Tim.*fans self* Mmm. Yum. Got to be soft but still little authoritative at the end. I’ll take it.

We rejoin them in the station. Tim done with his OP for Grey. Lucy coming over mentioning his how Daddy and me traffic school sounds fun. Tim replying 'Yeah Jordy will get 5 dollars in tokens too.' Lucy letting him know it was a really nice gesture. I love her coming up to him and letting him know this. Making sure he knows what a wonderful thing he did for them. That it was so sweet. This scene makes me squee for so many reasons.

Tim letting her know he wanted to throw that guy in jail. You could tell when he entered that room he was ready to throw down. It wasn't sitting well with him Yates putting his son in a position like that. Lucy replying ‘But?’ Tim bestowing the best compliment he could on her. Touching on the theme of this episode I think. The fact she’s a good influence on him. I mean it exudes out of him now a days. She already was before they got together. Now it’s increased ten fold the effect Lucy has on him.

Lucy and her view of the world. A thing that used to drive him absolutely bonkers. So much so he tried to show her the underbelly of L.A. to dampen it. That same light and view has now rubbed off on this man. Soaking him in that sunshine she gives off. I can’t with how many feels this is giving me. And he’s telling her as such. He’s known for a long long time what a good influence she is. But he’s telling her in person. With heart eyes galore to boot. Such love and admiration on his face for her. *internally screaming*

Naturally he complimented her so she needs to do one right back. Telling him with just as much adoration and affection might I add. That he’s going to be a great dad someday. We know that’s true. Also we know Lucy is already picturing him as that great father to their kiddos. I just love how causally they talk about their future kids. It’s a thing that’s just an eventuality. The level of comfortability around the topic just shows us where they're at. How serious they both are.

Tim needing to tease her now that they’ve been soft. It’s so damn funny. Look at his pleased smile when he does it. Look at that man in the final gif. Could power a city with that smile. He so loves to tease her. Lucy is exasperated with him but still smiling regardless. She loves this infuriating man in front of her so much.

They couldn’t be happier or more adorable. It blows my mind still we get to have them together. Not only that but this level of ship goodness. Straight flirting, complimenting and teasing. They’re so in love I might pass out from all my feelings haha Such a good ep for them.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

I do love Angela getting to be the one to take Elijah out. So fitting. Also that scene with Charlie and Wes holy hell.

Thank you to all you amazing readers. For all the likes, comments and reblogs. We only have 5 left episodes in this season. Unreal. Shall see you all in 5x18 :)

[umi-adxhira]

TWTPTFLOB WITH GEN-Z READER PART 2

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was Dion centred because I like him. Also this was less gen-z as I hoped, and it was more of a story lmao

We need to go back to the beginning. Your friend from your own world gave you a manhwa recommendation, Roxana. Its about a girl who ikesai's into a manhwa to protect the original female leads older brother for her survival

You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, hearing the sounds of a woman whispering in your ear, so close, yet so far away

You awoke in the arms of a man, half of his face covered with a black mask, with a cloak hiding his figure

After blinking a few times, your eyes focus and you're met face to face with the second oldest son of the Black Agriche

"WHAT THE SIGMA??? MY GOAT??? IN THE FLESH???

"...did you just call me a goat?"

"It's a good thing dw bro"

"Interesting... where did you come from?"

"You tell me, you're the one holding me in your arms. Idk how I got here"

He's perplexed. On one hand, he could kill you, but on the other hand, you're far too interesting to let go of

"...come with me. We're going somewhere"

"Where are we going?"

"To your new home"

After a few minutes of walking, you pass out in his arms, tired and overwhelmed from your journey

You woke up once more in a lavish bed, the brightness of the light burning your retinas as you place anl hand over your face

You get up from your position, face once again with the same man who helped you here, in a chair next to you

"You're awake"

"Uuuuuuhhh yes I am. Thanks for noticing"

"Where did you come from? I will not ask a third time"

"From uuuuuhhh the east! Yeah, my family lives there. I got lost hahaha"

"And now you're a liar?"

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

"Your choice of attire is... bold"

You look down, seeing the MLP shirt you wore to sleep last night. It featured the mane six, with the MLP logo at the top

"Do NOT disrespect My Little Pony. Its the best show ever"

"They're... horses with feminine, human facial features"

"They're PONIES, actually"

Then you proceeded to tell the entire lore of MLP to him, not aware your stomach was growling every five minutes from talking so much

Someone knocked on the door, and lo and behold, was Roxana, the main character of the manhwa

Instantly from the MLP shirt you wore you were not from this world, you were sent here, like her, and it was in her best interest to keep you alive

"Ah yes, Father did tell me about your... new pet. Quite interesting to care so much about this one"

"They interest me. I don't think I'll be bored for long while to come"

"I see. Well, goodbye"

Intense. Big yikes.

Lante decided to let you stay here. As his unofficial favourite child wanted a toy, why would he say no?

After being changed into more appropriate clothing, you walked around the Manor, taking everything in. While taking everything in, you FORGOT to take in the way to get back to your room. You're lost

In a panic, you go back the way you came, only to end up in halls you don't even recognise. Luckily, a familiar face is here to help

"Ah, look, Sierra! What a cute little thing! Where do you think it came from?"

"Uuuh... well, your son was mentioned in having a new... companion"

"That rock I gave birth to? What, I must take care of them then!"

"I don't think that's wise..."

"Enough"

You all turn your heads to see Roxanna, with Jeremy in tow. She grabs your wrist, dragging you away.

"Girl let go! If you grip any tighter my blood circulation will cut off!"

"Didn't your parents teach you to not disrespect my sister?!"

"Didn't your parents teach you not to speak when the adults are talking?!"

A sigh escapes the female's lips, standing in front of the door on which you came out of

"That bastard's room? Why are we here?"

"Not now, Jeremy"

She opens the door, shoving you inside. A large slam can be heard which makes you jump a little, not before coming fave to face with the tall man

"Where were you?"

"Walking around. Got lost. Met two women. Saw a girl and her blueberry dog and they dragged me here. Slammed the door. I'm here"

You were against telling them that you were aware of their names and the roles they played in the manhwa. If Roxanna were to find out you read the manhwa where she was the main character, it would lead to events changing which means you can't follow the story, hence not knowing future events

"Uuuh. Is this your room?"

"Our room now. You are mine, this is your room too"

"Oh um... thanks, I guess. I don't know your name, though"

"It's Dion"

"Oh... my name's Alex"

"Why do you continue to lie to me?"

"I'm not lying"

"..."

"Fine. Its [name]"

"Well, [name], welcome to your new life"

©️umi-adxhira [24/10/2024]

[vanmarkus]

Wip Wednesday ☔️

Tagged and tagging @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @disasterbuckdiaz @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 and my lovelies @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns mwuah mwuah💛💛

Guess what, guys? The first chapter of the mudslide fic is getting posted tomorrow! Which is just so unbelievable to me?? Despite posting 10 fics prior to this one, it was the first fic I started writing for this ship and I've been working on it (on and off) since september and now here we are... absolute bonkers if you ask me.

Now, I know there are like 4 people who are actually interested in this fic – and that's fine, honestly –, but I for one am very excited. So I thought I'd give you guys a longer snippet for today. I actually shared parts of this scene in like 3 different instalments from both of their povs lmao but this one is from chapter one so you'll get the full(ish) picture tomorrow.

“Eddie, a-are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just tired.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Eddie, if there’s something going on, you have to tell me.” “There’s nothing going on, I promise.” Buck raised his eyebrows challengingly and as it had so many times before, it made Eddie sigh in defeat. “It’s. It’s the weather.” He gave in with a heavy sigh and it didn’t quite stop Buck from frowning, but he had to admit, it made sense. It’s been raining for over two weeks now as a storm came to California and Buck would be lying if he said that it didn’t affect him in any way, but he was handling it. The only thing he didn’t account for was that maybe Eddie wasn’t. “Hey, it’s okay.” Buck stepped closer and for some reason Eddie was avoiding his gaze now, so he didn’t stop walking until they were standing toe to toe, the proximity forcing his eyes back onto Buck’s face. “Look. This?” He pulled the neckline of his shirt aside to show Eddie more of the scarring over his neck and chest. “This is a reminder that I pulled through.” He knew what kind of marks a lighting strike could leave on someone’s body, but he never really got to see his own. By the time he woke up from his coma, the patterns were gone — unlike the painful and itchy blisters that took over their place; they lasted for nearly two months and despite all the cold compresses and cooling gels, they still left a hefty amount of scar tissue behind, in the shape of abstract lines and ragged edges. Eddie reached out and traced some of the lines above his collarbone with his fingers and Buck couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut for a second with the softness of his touch. The pads of his fingers were warm as they brushed over the shiny silver lines and patches, yet Buck could still feel goosebumps build on his forearms and thighs with every microinch he covered. Suddenly, Eddie’s fingers were gone, pulled away abruptly, almost as if they got burned by the contact, leaving his hand to float in the air between them aimlessly. “Sorry.” Eddie whispered and they were just so close. All the what ifs have started to murmur in the back of Buck’s skull with renewed vigor, buzzing like radio static behind his eyes, begging to be turned up for clarity. “Eddie I—” “It’s okay, Buck.” He flattened his palm over Buck’s heart, only the thin layer of his shirt separating them now. “Thank you, for this.” Eddie patted his chest and stepped back, leaving Buck dumbfounded as to what exactly just happened.

[babygirl-diaz]

Baked Goods (Teddie Omegaverse Fic)

I rarely write smut because I am not good at it but this is a smaller ship so I felt more confident writing for it because fewer people are reading it lmao.

***

Eddie was a stress baker. Anytime things got bad, he would whip out the all-purpose flour, sugar, and butter, along with all the other ingredients, and make his next greatest hit. Today he was keeping it simple and baking some sugar cookies. He already had a tray cooling on the rack on the table, while another was in the oven. He was working on a third batch when he heard the front door open.

"Eddie?" Tommy's voice rang through the house.

"In the kitchen!" Eddie replied as he used a star-shaped cutter to cut out the next cookie.

"Oh no, what happened?"

Eddie looked up from the cookies to see Tommy giving him a concerned look. "What do you mean?" Eddie asked, playing dumb.

"You only bake so much if you're upset about something." Tommy moved towards him and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his hand on the small visible bump on Eddie's stomach.

Eddie sighed and leaned back against him. "I talked to my mom today. She said some things about how this is a high-risk pregnancy because of my age and it just ticked me off," Eddie replied.

The protective arms tightened around Eddie. "She had no right to upset you, Eddie. I'm so sorry."

"She's the one who should be sorry, but she wasn't," Eddie told him and leaned back against him.

"Do you want me to talk to her? Tell her to butt out?" Tommy asked.

"No, that will only make things worse." Eddie sighed. "Can you just- I dunno- make me forget?"

"Oh yeah?" Tommy asked and Eddie could hear the amusement in his voice. "And how do you propose I do that?"

That made Eddie smile and he turned around in Tommy's arms, kissing him. "I'm sure you will find a way."

Eddie yelped as he was swept off his feet and taken into Tommy's arms, bridal style. He immediately wrapped his arms around Tommy's neck.

Without saying another word, Tommy carried him to their bedroom and lay him down on the bed, before climbing on top of him.

The moment their lips connected, the kiss turned heated and they were haphazardly removing each other's clothes. Eddie lifted his hips so that Tommy could remove his pants and boxers before Tommy got out of bed to take off his own pants. When Tommy returned, Eddie was immediately on him, kissing him hard.

"I wanna fuck you so bad," Tommy whispered breathlessly against his lips.

"I thought that much was obvious," Eddie replied and grazed his bottom lip with his teeth. "I'm already so wet," he whispered, guiding Tommy's hand between his legs.

"Shit," Tommy hissed and pulled his hand back. He shoved a pillow under Eddie's hips and spread his legs just watching him for a moment. "Never get tired of this sight. Especially with this recent development," he added touching Eddie's swollen belly.

Heat rose in Eddie's cheeks at that and he pulled Tommy down for another kiss. He felt Tommy's cock breach his hole and moaned into Tommy's mouth.

Tommy pushed inside him and groaned. "No matter how many times I fuck you, you're always so tight."

Eddie said nothing to that and just wrapped his legs around Tommy's waist.

Once he was fully inside Eddie, Tommy just looked down at his face and said, "You're so beautiful."

Eddie chuckled at that. "You don't have to sweet talk me, baby. I'm already letting you fuck me."

"Eddie?"

"Hmmm?"

"Shut up," Tommy smirked and kissed him once more before he started moving.

Eddie moaned loudly as Tommy thrust inside him at a hard, brutal pace. Just how Eddie liked it. Tommy's hand wrapped around Eddie's cock and he stroked it in time with his thrusts.

They went at it for what seemed like hours and kissed in between. When Tommy buried his face in Eddie's neck and bit down on his bonding gland, Eddie knew he was close.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby," Eddie let out a litany of curses and soon came all over Tommy's hand.

Tommy thrust inside him a few more times before he was coming too, filling Eddie up.

They lay there, panting and catching their breath when Eddie felt kisses on his collarbone.

"I love you, Eddie," Tommy told him, looking at him again. "I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"I know you will, baby," Eddie told him. "And I love you too."

[the-sky-queen]

Hi! About red son samadih fire being taken away

I am 90% he actually knew about it and was just surprised his mom actually told the monkie kid gang the story!

I mean, he literally has the 3 rings of samadih on the back of his coat, and knowing how the DBK family is, I don't think they would just let him forget it lmao

Hi! I'd probably have to watch the scene again and watch Red Son's face closer, but when I watched it for the first time, he seemed VERY surprised to me. Like he was never told about his mega fire in the first place.

And like, if you think about it, it kinda makes sense that they wouldn't tell him! I didn't really word this the best last night since it was late and I was tired, but here's more of my reasoning. Red Son has been consistently shown to be super desperate to please his family and be seen as valuable, right? If he was told he used to have this insanely powerful fire that could end the world, wouldn't he kinda want it back? Wouldn't he want to collect the three rings himself so he could have the ultimate weapon? He'd be able to carry out any order his parents ever gave him. They could rule the world with him as their champion prince! They would be unstoppable! Red Son would finally make his parents proud of him. So since he didn't go grab the rings and is still separated from the Samadi Fire, that tells me that his parents never told him about it.

(Keep in mind that I haven't watched very far past the episode where we find out that the Samadi Fire originated from Red Son, so if anything is inaccurate here, you can tell me that, but PLEASE don't correct me if it means spoilers.)

Anyway, back on topic, you bring up an interesting point about the ring symbol being on Red Son's back. I actually did notice that when watching the episode! I'm thinking maybe it's there just as a little hint to what Red Son is. Maybe it showed up on its own via ���magic✨ or maybe DBK and Princess Iron Fan had it embroidered on his jacket. Red Son might just think its a fun little bit of symbolism since he's got fire powers and think it looks cool.

But yeah, if this is the case, and Red Son had no idea, then why didn't his parents tell him? Well, as I said, if Red Son knew, he'd DEFINITELY want the Samadi Fire back. And as literally everyone this season keeps saying, this fire is UNQUENCHABLE and could END THE WORLD. One of them said in the episode itself that Red Son, a demon, son of DBK, couldn't control it. Granted, he was a baby at the time, but if it took Sun Wukong (and Macaque, DBK, and Iron Fan I think? I can't remember) to separate it from him, I don't think he could control it now either! DBK and Iron fan kinda want to rule the world, not utterly destroy it. And I get the sense the Samadi Fire might even burn through its 'host' or whatever, so it would make sense that Red Son's parents wouldn't tell him. They want to keep him safe.

This is just my theory though. Feel free to disagree, but it makes sense and I like it. :)

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Hey Sakura ❤️ For the tickletober prompts, could you please do day 12 with nagireo from bllk? They are cuddling and Reo is kind of upset, so Nagi takes it on himself to cheer him up. Hope you're doing well!

Tickletober day #12: Bites/nibbles

YOOO IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THEM FOR SO LONG, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THEM

I AM A NAGIREO TRUTHER AND ILL CRUMBLE IF THEY DONT GET BACK TOGETHER LMAO

Special thanks to @kairoscler for gibing me this AMAZING idea uwu

___________________________________________

Reo x Nagi (interpret as you wish)

Lee: Reo

Ler: Nagi

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

Another day of harsh trainin had gone by, well, atleast for the other members of team V. Nagi being his usual self didn’t do much, and yet he always outshone everyone else. As much as Reo loved him, at times he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of this lazy cat he calls his friend. His thoughts got interrupted when he felt the white haired male flop down on his lap, those tired eyes piercing up at him.

“What’s up with you?”.

“What do you mean?” Reo looked down at his lap, tilting his head slightly.

“Your face” Nagi pointed up at him, earning a snort from the other.

“Pfft- What exactly about my face?”.

“It looks so gloomy. You’re usually so smiley, where is it?”.

“Where’s what- My smile? I guess I’m just tired tonight, haha…” the purple haired male tried brushing it off with a nervous laugh, thinking the other would just drop it there.

Nagi might appear like he doesn’t care half of the time, but he sure was attentinve enough to know when his friend was feeling down. Interrogating him on the matter would probably make it worse, so what could he do to get Reo out of his funk?

He let out a long sigh, taking Reo’s hand into his own and inspecting it as if it were an intricate work of art. This caused the purple boy to fluster up a bit. “Umm, Nagi…? What are you doing?”.

“Just trying something…” mumbled the other. His apathetic face neverchanging. Reo could never tell what he was thinking in these situations, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what came next.

“ehEEK?! NAGI WHAHHAHAT?!” a sharp squeal made it’s way out of his throat. When he looked down at his hand, Nagi had blown a raspberry right against his palm and proceeded to nibble along the slender wrist. Nagi’s cat side was really showing now. “GYAHAHA! N-NAGIHIHI QUIT IHIHIT!!” Reo guffawed, kicking his legs out playfully at Nagi’s persistent nibbling.

He couldn’t tell what was more flustering: the tickling, Nagi’s lack of reaction, or the embarrassing sounds that kept spilling out of Reo’s mouth. Surely he mustv’ve gotten a few glances at this point. At the thought, his cheeks turned bright red. A stark contrast with his purple color palette.

Nagi blew a raspberry right against his wrist, causing Reo to double over and wheeze in laughter. His eyes were squeezed shut, slight tears prickling the corners. And his smile was so bright it could blind anyone in sight.

“AHAHAHA! NAGI PLEHEHE—“.

Once he noticed Reo having a hard time controlling his breathing, Nagi stopped, letting go of his hand. He observed the flushed face for a moment, really absorbing in the sight. It was pretty cute, he had to admit to himself. “So, feeling better now?”.

Once Reo managed to calm down, he had a hard time wiping that silly grin off his face. He didn’t know whether to be upset or thankful at Nagi. “I hate to admit ir but… yeah” he spoke sheepishly, the pink blush returning to his cheeks. Which only darkened when Nagi shot him a small smile of his own.

“Now I know what to do when you’re all sad…~”.

Reo felt his whole body tense up at the thought. The thought of making more of those ungodly sounds was so embarrassing, but it also felt nice to let loose…  Oh well, maybe Nagi’s playful side wasn’t so bad to deal with after all.

___________________________________________

[just-another-t-word-blog]

So, I had a session this weekend

Slight spice warning ⚠️

I am so so so grateful for my partner and his acceptance of my weirdness. He’s known about my little obsession for awhile and he indulges me frequently, but this weekend he took me to a local club to use their restraint equipment and have a more intense than normal session ☺️🥰

I have been very stressed and anxious and needed a good brain reset. We agreed it would help quite a bit.

No one was there aside from us and the dungeon masters, he made sure the cuffs we chose were comfortable enough and I couldn’t slip out, and started me up on a st andrews cross. (If you don’t know what that is, it’s that huge upright X you see in various bdsm scenarios.)

He started off with feathers, teasing and slow, easing me into it since I was a bit nervous. He waited until I was a giggling mess to put on the blindfold, and kept at it with the feathers to keep me guessing where he was going to go next. Keep in mind I’m not super feather sensitive unless I’m already worked up and good lord was he working me up.

Since I was standing, my instincts kept taking over and bringing a leg up to push him away, so after a quick break to stretch my wrists he had me turn around so I was facing the wall. I couldn’t see him and my back was exposed. My favorite worst spot.

He seemed to remember my very flustered confession where I explained that gentle dragging nails on my back absolutely kills me. He definitely used that to his advantage. I couldn’t kick him with how I was facing so I had to give in. I won’t lie, I was a little embarrassed hearing my own laugh echo in the mostly empty room. The backs of my lower ribs were the worst, I didn’t have enough slack in my arms to squirm away.

After that we had a cuddle break, letting my arms rest and deciding if I needed a round two. We both decided why not.

Next he had me lay on my back on a table, my arms restrained above my head with cuffs and chains. My legs were free, an oversight on both our parts, but anyway. He used mostly fingers this time, I managed to take away the feather wand he was using (managed to grab it and wedge it between me and the table, get fucked loser, lmao.). He amped up his verbal teasing, I’m one of those who can’t hear the word “tickle” without it melting my brain and he knows it well. He made sure to tell me how cute I was (blegh) and how happy I looked (double blegh) and how red I was (blegh blegh blegh). At this point I’m wound up enough that I’m way past giggles and as close to the cackle category as I can get without being all the way there. Until he finds a spot on the back of my thighs.

In my defense, I was trying to kick him away and his hand placement startled me. It’s not my fault a bad spot happened to be there.

And that’s when I had to actively fight to get my leg away from him, but any time my leg left the table he would get the spot under the thigh, right below the buttcheek, and if I slammed my leg down he would go for my knees (illegal).

Unfortunately I was kicking too much for him to get to my feet. I was getting tired anyways and it was late, so after a quick aftercare cuddle we went ahead and went home. He got me chicken nuggets on the way 😊

Thank you for listening to my brain rot, lmao.

[aerodaltonimperial]

Prompt: A Moment Like This

(did i turn this into my favorite trope? you better believe i did. does this have anything to do with your prompt? FUCK I DUNNO, I JUST THOUGHT OF IT LMAO)

It's got to be past 2 AM; it has to be. Hook's too afraid to move, so he isn't entirely sure, but he knows he's been staring up at the ceiling for at least three hours now. He thinks he might be able to feign sleeping if he just remains perfectly still, except the other side of the bed is equally still, and truth be told, no one sleeps without shifting a little bit. It means they're both absolutely atrocious as pretending to be asleep. This is a nightmare—although an actual nightmare would be preferable, because then at least Hook would eventually wake up and be alone. Not sharing a bed with the person he hasn't spoken to in months. Not stuck in a hell of his own making, the result of mistaken hotel reservations and being in the wrong place at the wrong time and fuck, why couldn't Hook have just picked up the phone months ago?

Oh, Christ, he isn't going to sleep at all, is he? He's going to be dead on his feet for this match tomor—today, and he's got no one to blame but himself. And then, finally, there's movement on the other side of the bed, a sigh followed by repositioning against the pillow. Hook sucks in a deep breath and holds it until his lungs burn.

"Can't sleep?" Danhausen asks, the first one to break the silence that had engulfed them as soon as they'd stepped into the room. Fuck this whole fucking situation; Hook thinks he's going to die.

But Danhausen braving the stalemate helps to loosen a tiny bit of the anxiety iced around Hook's heart. He swallows, trying to work the lump down. "No."

"Hook needs to be well-rested for tomorrow."

"No shit," Hook says.

"No swearing," comes the half-hearted response.

"Come on," Hook sighs. The conversation has rattled everything free, so he lifts a hand to run a hand through his hair. "Can you just be serious?"

Danhausen rolls a little, enough that Hook can see his unimpressed expression out of the corner of his vision. It's starker without the paint on top, somehow both easier and more difficult to read at the same time. "Hook thinks Danhausen isn't serious."

"I think..." No good can come of this. Hook snaps his jaw shut again. "I think it doesn't matter."

"Actually, Danhausen thinks everything matters, especially this."

"I really don't want to talk about it," Hook says.

"Too bad," Danhausen replies, sharp. "As luck would have it, Hook doesn't have much of a choice; you're stuck here, and so am I. Might as well talk about it."

Hook growls, sound reverberating in his throat. "I'll go sleep in the bathtub."

"Ridiculous," Danhausen says, though he does sound a bit cross.

"Am I?" Hook shoots back.

"Yes." Danhausen shifts upright fully, propped up on one elbow. The neckline of his T-shirt, loose in the way he's always preferred for sleeping, droops down low enough to reveal the slant of his collarbone and the edges of his chest tattoo. He looks deeply unimpressed. "Hook is. And do you want to know why?"

"No, but I bet you'll tell me anyway."

"Hook should have said something when we first got into the room."

Hook growls again, with more force this time. "You should have said something when we got to the room!"

"Danhausen is pretty tired of everything being his fault," he says, cross.

"I didn't say that. Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Easy to do when Hook fails to put any of his own there for months."

Hook sits up, throwing the blankets off. The room is all of a sudden way too hot, stifling; he's being choked by everything within. He twists to get up in Danhausen's face, if only because it feels good to finally feel something. "No. I'm not letting you do this. We both stopped answering."

"Then we both should start talking again," Danhausen says.

"Talk about what."

Danhausen shrugs. "How about why everything stopped in the first place."

"How about no," Hook says.

"What else is there to talk about?" Danhausen asks. "How comfortable Hook thinks the bathtub will be?"

Christ, it has to be better than this: stuck in a bed far, far too small for all the baggage they brought in with them. Hook wants to tear his own hair out. "You are easily the most frustrating person I've ever known."

"Danhausen could say the same about Hook!" He looks angry again, eyes flashing, but it's hard to seem truly dangerous while as rumpled as Danhausen currently is. "Hook thinks he owes nothing to anyone, and yet here he is, demanding more than he's willing to give."

"I don't demand anything," Hook tries, but ah, fuck, it's weak. Danhausen is surprisingly good at getting his finger right on the pulse of things and pressing down just to feel the heart beat jump.

"Really?" Danhausen leans closer. "So tell me, you aren't demanding an explanation? You don't want to know?"

"You're just admitting it was you," Hook replies.

"No, Danhausen is admitting he knows what happened."

Hook scoffs, mirthless. "Oh, really? Then why did you ask?"

"To see if Hook was still running from it."

"I'm not running from anything," he says.

And quick as a wink, Danhausen moves; he's up and on his knees faster than Hook thought possible, darting across the blankets to straddle Hook's waist. The position alone blanks Hook's thoughts for too long—long enough to give Danhausen the upper hand. Danhausen's fingers wrap around Hook's wrists and push, pinning his arms to the pillow. Fuck, fuck—Hook wants to fight back, wants to slam his knees up and knock Danhausen to the floor, wants to argue the entire swell of emotion biting the back of his tongue, wants to—

"Tell me I'm wrong," Danhausen hisses, right next to Hook's face. "Tell me this isn't what you wanted the whole time."

"Fuck you," Hook seethes.

Danhausen doesn't bother to admonish him for the cursing a second time. Instead, he presses down closer, as though he's going to go in for—

Hook flips them, heels finding good purchase against the sheets. They tumble over until he's got his weight down on Danhausen's hips and his hands clawed over the man's wrists. He is not going to lose: not here, not now. Not like this. Not when there's so much riding on it. "You don't know what you're talking about," he says, voice low.

"Really?" Danhausen laughs, head thrown back against the pillow. "Danhausen is rarely wrong."

"Bullshit," is all Hook gets out before he's launched off, chest stinging from the impact. Danhausen's got speed Hook doesn't properly remember, and the power of months of bottled emotions, but Hook does, too. They scrabble against each other, and Hook can't even really tell what they're fighting over any more. He wraps his fingers around the back of Danhausen's neck just as Danhausen gets his leg looped around Hook's waist, spinning them again.

The man is laughing, sound grating; Hook wants to smack the grin off his face. He actually does reach up and gets his fingers swatted away, and in retaliation, throws a leg up against Danhausen's chest, his shoulder. Knocks him back and down so he can scramble up and over. They're at the end of the bed now, heads closer to the television stand than the headboard, and Hook presses down, palms flat against Danhausen's forearms, weight positioned on top of him. He glares down as his chest heaves. He hates, hates, hates—

With an expression far too smug, Danhausen throws one leg out and hikes it up around Hook's lower back, angling their hips together. Properly together, so he can push up into Hook and knock a groan out of his throat.

"Liar," Danhausen whispers, and it's not like Hook can argue it now, not now that he's hard and aching and Danhausen is rutting up into him, the sort of thing that's impossible to ignore.

"Maybe," Hook hedges, the best he can offer. It's already a betrayal.

Danhausen's hands snake up to tangle in Hook's hair at the back of his head, tug him roughly forward until their noses are close enough to brush together. "Is Hook going to keep fighting this?"

"Maybe," Hook repeats, but he doesn't really mean it, and Danhausen can see right through the lie. Danhausen jerks him close enough to mash their mouths together, more battle than kiss, really; it works. It really fucking works. Hook will let Danhausen bite at his bottom lip only so he can do the same right back, running his tongue over the offending skin after just to hear the man's throat rumble with delight. And yeah, maybe fighting this for so long was a dumb move, but Hook's never claimed to be particularly good at dealing with his emotions. It felt easier to avoid, until it wasn't, and this—he can work with this. He can work with the way Danhausen rises up to meet his hips, the way Danhausen's fingernails sink into his shoulders and drag down his back. He hopes they're leaving angry red welts behind.

"Hook is ridiculous," Danhausen whispers against Hook's mouth.

"Fuck you," Hook exhales, nipping along the man's lip again because he likes the groans trembling out of his chest.

Danhausen's mouth curves beneath Hook's, wide. "If Hook insists."

"Hook does," Hook mumbles, and swallows anything else Danhausen might decide to say by covering his mouth again, drinking the man in like he's drowning.

Danhausen's hands move to grip the sides of Hook's face, forceful and tight, as he pulls them apart just to say, "good," before dragging Hook straight back in once more.

It is. It really fucking is, especially the next morning, when Hook mouths lazy kisses against Danhausen's collarbone, the shirt long gone, licking the salt from Danhausen's chest where it's collected and dried, and Danhausen cords his fingers through Hook's hair in a possessive sort of grip Hook thinks he might never get enough of, mumbling Hook's name over and over as Hook traverses the expanse of his skin.

[thosetwofirefighters]

One Line, Any Fic

tagged by @the-likesofus because she's amazing!!! thank you bby, i'm so excited to participate in this one! <3 Rules: Pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people hehe I used a random number generator to pick which fics to use because otherwise, I'd be here all night debating with myself lmao

At this point, Buck is just tired—tired of Snapchat, tired of Eddie and his avoidance, and tired of his stupid dick that still won’t calm down fully. —from The Trials and Errors of Taking Nudes on Snapchat (9-1-1)

Before waiting for an answer, Eddie moves to grab the drawing and remove it from the fridge, ignoring Chris’ protest that “Buck’s heart belongs on the fridge!” —from Misunderstood the Assignment (9-1-1)

Eddie is sitting on an armchair, Buck standing behind it to give him a shoulder massage, something they’d begun to do regularly once Eddie was healed enough from being shot. —from I Told You So (9-1-1)

It’s rare when Eddie decides to be melodramatic, and Hen seems to be riling him up, if the smirk on her face—and the glare on Eddie’s—is anything to go off of. —from How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition (9-1-1)

Jess watches them for a moment, a tight feeling forming in her chest at the sight—Lu seems motherly, she realizes, and there’s a look on her face that Jess has never seen before, something in her eyes that she’d never expect to see there. —from Glass (A League of Their Own)

His eyes flit between Buck and Eddie and the closet they just vacated, and he throws up his hands before saying something about keeping it in their pants. —from Can't Help Themselves (9-1-1)

Eddie feels relieved suddenly, and he hadn’t even realized he was stressing about it—about the fact that his best friend could have someone (who isn't him) to send intimate photos to. —from The Trials and Errors of Screenshotting Snapchats (9-1-1)

Chris leans up against the tree, giggling when his dads lie down next to each other, Buck pointing out some clouds and telling them wild stories about whatever he thinks they look like. —from The Most Mature Buckley-Diaz (9-1-1)

“Besides,” Eddie continues, “I also know that it’s a complete myth that holding off on coming does anything to sperm count or motility.” —from Problem Solved (9-1-1)

Buck has always been a romantic, has daydreamed about this—about his wedding—his whole life, but now that it’s here, it’s even better than he ever could’ve imagined. —from Cake on Our Fingers (9-1-1)

okay this was way too much fun!!! i lowkey want to include all of my fics now, but i'm practicing restraint! lol

everyone who i've tagged before or would tag who i know writes is probably already tagged, and i am too anxious rn to tag people who i haven't tagged before, so in lieu of tagging anyone, i am tagging whoever wants to do this too!! and asking y'all to let me know if you want to be tagged in stuff like this from me <3

[dimension-c146]

I'm losing my shit over this email I got from my boss yesterday.

So this chair of one of the committees at my job was emailing me & my boss about his committee not coming to a consensus on something we asked about. Then the chair said, "Hey Wavy email all the committee members & ask them when they can meet next week to discuss this."

Uh, not my job, my guy, that's yours. My boss texted me & was like "don't do anything, I'll respond to him" and the way this man replied is sending me.

He said, "Hi Mr. Red, I have Wavy tied up right now assisting me with important matters. Can you please email the committee this time as Wavy simply does not have the time right now."

HELLO???????? MY BOSS HAS ME TIED UP??????????

He could have said "Wavy is busy helping me" or "Wavy is tied up with other things rn." SOMETHING. He could have worded it so many different ways but he worded it in like the dirtiest way possible LMAO

Of course my goblin-ass brain has been playing this email on repeat in my head, & I thought of my own...version of his email:

"Hi Mr. Red, I have Wavy tied up assisting me on important matters. Like deepthroating my cock with their hands tied behind their back until my hot load is consumed by their beckoning throat. And if Wavy doesn't swallow every drop, or if they get any of it on my dress pants, not only will I make them clean it up with their tongue, I'll also need to dick them down over my desk so they know not to make that mistake again.

"Until then, Wavy simply does not have the time right now."

The way I am just imagining him typing that email reply, as normal as can be, as I'm pathetically on my knees under his desk with my lips wrapped around his throbbing erection. Maybe he even scrolls through his inbox with one hand, the other hand strongly but delicately caressing the back of my head, silently praising me for being such a good subordinate.

I imagine him having an average sized dick, but he's thicc. Baby got girth & my mouth is stretched to its limit trying to accommodate all of it. Whenever he feels me ease up, I imagine him gently but decidedly pushing my head down and letting out a hushed moan of disapproval.

Or instead he looks down at me with those captivating blue eyes, caresses my face, and says, "Don't tell me you're tired already. Because I'm not tired of you" and then he thrusts his hips forward, making me take him all the way to the base again.

[ritzcrackee]

my current summer tbr! rambling under the cut

Free Fall

"When an influential lawyer is murdered miles above the earth's surface, Captain of Detectives Rick Harrison reluctantly accepts the case. Harrison quickly finds himself at the center of a deepening conspiracy. Why did the killer use a mining laser, an unwieldy weapon? What is the connection between the victim and the powerful anti-android lobby? And the toughest question Harrison never expected to ask: what defines humanity?"

tbh? not hyped for this one. i bought it in a state of rushed delirium and i'm 99% sure i'll get 20 pages in then never touch it again. we'll see though

Sharp Objects

"Fresh from a brief stay at a psych hospital, reporter Camille Preaker faces a troubling assignment: she must return to her tiny hometown to cover the murders of two pre- teen girls. For years, Camille has hardly spoken to her neurotic, hypochondriac mother or to the half-sister she barely knows: a beautiful thirteen-year-old with an eerie grip on the town. Now, installed in her old bedroom in her family's Victorian mansion, Camille finds herself identifying with the young victims—a bit too strongly. Dogged by her own demons, she must unravel the psychological puzzle of her own past if she wants to get the story-and survive this homecoming."

i absolutely am extremely hyped for this book!! it looks like it's really similar to big little lies, which i really liked. v v excited

Snow in Summer

"Summer's life in the mountains of West Virginia is far from the fairy tale it once was. Not long ago she sang songs and danced with her mother and father, her cousin Nancy doted on her, and she had a new baby brother on the way. But the baby died soon after birth, taking their mother with him and turning Summer's life grim. Now things are getting even worse as her father falls under the spell of a woman who brings potions and magical mirrors into Summer's world. Stepmama puts on a pretty face, but Summer suspects she's up to no good-and is afraid she may be powerless to stop her."

i mostly got this to fill the neverafter shaped hole in my heart </3. and bcus i know i'm going to get tired of ya/adult books soon lmao

Afrofuturism

"In this hip, accessible primer to the music, literature, and art of Afrofutur sm, author Ytasha Womack introduces readers to the burgeoning community of artists creating Afrofuturist works, the innovators from the past, and the wide range of subjects they explore. From the sci-fi literature of Samuel Delany, Octavia Butler, and N. K. Jemisin to the musical cosmos of Sun Ra, George Clinton, and the Black Eyed Peas' will Lam, to the visual and multimedia artists inspired by African Dogon myths and Egyp tian deities, the book's topics range from the "alien" experience of blacks in America to the "wake up" cry that peppers sci-fi literature, sermons. and activism. With a twofold aim to entertain and enlighten, Afrofuturists strive to break down racial, ethnic, and social limitations to empower and free individuals to be themselves."

i've already read like 50 pages of this and it's so interesting so far!! i keep having to switch between it and midnight sun bcus nonfiction fries my brain @_@ the author is great at keeping ur attention tho!

The Fault In Our Stars

"Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel's story is about to be completely rewritten."

let's go john green!! this is the first book of his i've planned on reading but i've had it reccomended to me a few times. hyped for a romance novel thats actually aimed at my age group lol

Lives of the Saints

ok the blurb for this one literally covers both side sof the sleeve?? and it truly tells you nothing BDJDJ. anyways the writing style reminded me of lemony snicket and it's only 150 pages? it seems fun but we'll see

Ain't Nobody's Business If You Do

"What are consensual crimes? A consensual crime is any activity currently illegal-that does not physically harm the person or property of another. The idea behind this book is simple: As an adult, you should be allowed to do with your person and property whatever you choose, as long as you don't physically harm the person or property of another."

this book is SO large. i mean 817 pages large. it seems like an interesting critique of the justice system, but tbh i just got it to look smart/hold up the clipboard my twilight books r balancing on.

Maus & Maus ||

"Maus is the story of Vladek Spiegelman, a Jewish survivor of Hitler's Europe, and his son, a cartoonist who tries to come to terms with his father, his father's terrifying story, and History itself. Its form, the cartoon (the Nazis are cats, the Jews mice), succeeds perfectly in shocking us out of any lingering sense of familiarity with the events described, approaching, as it does, the unspeakable through the diminutive."

i've been reading a pirated copy of this book and i'm so glad i found the physical copies!! i've already read maus but i read it a while back so i'll probably reread to prepare for the second one. straight up one of my favorite graphic novels so i'm extremely excited.