#i have a hard time with movies and at least there is something to look at

[okwonyo]

SUGAR TALKING ꒪ ✿⠀ making doe eyes at them.

TESTI ────── 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾, 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗅𝖾𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 !

❪ 日语 ❫ & fem!rea 1OOO fluff established relationship non-idol au ❜ skinship kissing ◜‿◝ REBLOGS&CLICK

지아 ⠀⦂⠀ since it won the poll :O

HEESEUNG

usually, he isn’t the the type to talk too much during movie nights. his hand always in yours as he watches the movie enthusiastically, never missing one bit of it.

but today it seems different— you don’t really know if it’s either because he is very passionate about this specific actor or if it’s because you called the said actor ‘hot’. but he won’t stop talking.

“seriously!” he huffs after a few seconds of calm. he smiles and shakes his head in fake nonchalance, “i don’t understand what he has that i don’t. do you prefe—”

the rest of his sentence dies in his throat when his eyes meet yours. you look at him wide eyed, with a little pout that makes his heart skip.

“shut up please,” you ask with a honey coat voice— his eyes grow wide. he is soon giggling, leaning on you, as if what you just said wasn’t almost an insult.

at least he stops talking.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAY

it is not a secret that you can get anything you want out of him. whether it’s his money or the entire world— you ask and you shall receive.

therefore, you don’t need to do anything else but ask for something that you want. because you know you got him wrapped around your finger. and that, if you wanted the moon, then you will have the moon.

sometimes, however, there is things that can’t be bought or that are hard to ask for. today, you want his attention.

you decided to not go bother him as you usually do. no, you choose to stare at him from across the room with the most bambi looking eyes you could manage. he should have noticed by now.

the long silence is what alarms him. he looks over you quickly, “are you—” then he looks again and his mouth falls agape. he sighs fondly, “c’mere, baby,”

JAKE

it’s not your fault. it really isn’t. he shouldn’t have been so easy to tease in the first place. getting a blush out of him is too easy and he is way too lovely for you to control yourself.

and ever since he confessed that he loved when you looked at him with those yes— you cannot stop looking at him with those eyes.

for a while, he is too occupied on his phone to even notice. but when his eyes shoots up to meet yours, he immediately smiles.

instinctively biting his lower lip, he stays silent for a while before throwing his head back and whining, “stop doing that!”

your eyes keep watching his growing blush as you laugh, “like what?” and he groans.

SUNGHON

he swears you do it all the time, but the truth is that you don’t even know what he is talking about. he mays affirm that you play dumb in purpose— you don’t, you really don’t.

the thing is that, he would say that you are trying to seduce him whenever you try to do anything. you run a hand through you hair? you want to make out. you grin? you want him to kiss you.

you just assumed he was that down bad.

“you are playing with me,” he smirks, looking down at you. your bodies moves along with the train you are standing in. you were already looking at him, but now there is confusion in your eyes. “don’t look at me like that.”

“what?” you giggle. honestly, you didn’t even know you were looking at him. admiring him is natural as breathing to you, “are you crazy?”

“when you look at me like that,” he whispers as he leans in. your arms are hugging his waist, your head is all the way titled up and he is so handsome, “my heart beats with need.”

SUNOO

you know he doesn’t get mad often— even if he does act like he is. he is too much of a softie to even think of being annoyed with you.

more times than not, he gets sulky. lips puckered as he gives you the silent treatment. it is always for silly things, however, just because he loves when you ask him to talk to you.

“i love you,” you tell him, holding onto his arm. he doesn’t do anything, obviously hiding his smile—and failing. “look at me.”

he takes a deep breath before bringing his focus on your instead of the dishes in front of him. his eyes fall into yours, “stop,” he says. turning red.

he tries to keep his annoyed attitude as hard as possible. he starts to take care of the dishes in the sink again— as if, trying to distract himself.

he keeps peeking at you. unable to control himself, he ends up crumbling. he hides his face in the crook of your neck in embarrassment.

JUNWGON

“my love, i’ll have to go eventually,” his tone is soft, his chuckles makes it harder for you to even consider letting him leave the bed and let him leave you.

he is not even gone. he is sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you. you hold his hand with both of yours— chasing after his warmth that you already miss.

you don’t really care where he is going, you want him here. you make the most adorable eyes you can put up, in a tiny voice you say, “can’t you stay a little longer?”

he seems a tad taken aback. on of his eyebrows shots up ever so slightly. pretty red lips forms a ‘o’ and his dimples smiles when he smiles.

gets back under the cover, close to you. he kisses you gently, “work can wait.”

RIKI

“leave me alone!” your boyfriend whines, faking annoyance. he is laying on your bed, next to your plushies, with his hands on your hips as you sit on

him. he acts like he wants to push you away but his grip is way too strong.

he gets up, rather abruptly, making you settle on his laps. he makes sure you are as comfortable as possible but holds your wrists when you try to reach his hair.

“just a few!” giggles makes your voice tremble. you try to get out of his handle but you can’t— he is much stronger that you, “please!”

he looks at the hello kitty hairpins in your hands with narrowed eyes. he doesn’t look against the idea at all, you know he just fights because of principle, “no!”

you tilt your head to the side slightly, the prettiest pout appearing on your lips. you look at him with a specific look— the one who made him choked on his drink the first time. “please, for me,”

you are already wearing a victorious grin as soon as he groans. he ends up with more than just a few hairpins in his hair.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[actinidiafruit]

Okay so i just recently watched the lighthouse again and a lot of things are becoming more clear to me.

Contains spoilers so uh, if you haven't watched (pls do), then don't read.

There's so many things to talk about and this post will probably come across as a crazy man's ramblings, but so be it.

Tom's role is interesting to say the least. Like, at first you kinda just think that he's being a dick for the sake of being a dick and he's just doing that classic old man shit. But then you get these little glimpses.

This is just my interpretation, but the way he mentions how his former second went crazy and was hallucinating mermaids and shit. It kinds plants the seeds into (for the sake of clarity I'll just call him Winslow) Winslow's head. And during their sober run together (before the bird + storm incidents), they're acting relatively normal. Of course Tom gives Winslow a hard time, but that's just him being Tom. Abusing his power as the elder a bit. But the way he morphs in the later half of the movie (especially now that they're both abusing alcohol). You see his intentions more clearly. The way he gaslights Winslow, tries to turn things on him, the way he wrote bad things about him in the log book(?). He's a mean old guy. But why? I still can't figure out why he's done this. Why he killed his former second (which he totally did, even if he didn't spill his beans about it). Is he protective of the light? Is that it? God knows.

And te way the mermaid is presented is... it makes you think. In my first two watches, I didn't understand why or why. But I think now it's a symbol for Winslow's sexuality (at least in some scenes). The way he'd use the charm in the shed. The way he had that hallucination on the rocks. The time he caught Tom having a private moment in the lighthouse and then hallucinated tentacles. Towards the end, when he's beating Tom on the floor and Winslow hallucinates him turning into some sort of sea king type creature.

Of course something must've happened between the two. That one scene where they're drunkenly holding each other, swaying, then go to kiss before breaking out into a fight. The whole master/dog thing. There's a lot of Winslow reflected in Tom. And of course he'd eventually spill his beans, want to be intimate, etc. They've been alone together for god knows how long. It's a very human thing to want to reach out and connect.

It's just so indicative of the human condition and the way that we connect. I feel like I need to watch this movie another 20 times before I fully get it, but my eyes were opened to quite a bit.

And the scene where Winslow looks into the light and laughs/screams. It gives me this sense of triumph (he finally got to see the Forbidden thing!) but also bittersweet. The laughter is triump, the bittersweet screaming is Winslow coming to grips with the fact that it's just a light. There was no point to why Tom guarded it like he did. It's like Winslow finally realises that he let himself be led to madness by some old, lying idiot and can't help but scream at his foolishness. The pointlessness of it all. And maybe that's why he lets himself fall down the stairs and ultimately die. His sins cannot be undone (done-bun can't be undone), so therefore he rots, being eaten by the very things that kickstarted his whole downfall.

Finally, just ugh. The cinematography. The unreliable narrator aspect. The way it's so open ended to interpretation. This movie has so much to give, I just wish my friends liked it even a little lol.

updated this list btw

RULES:

at least one of the pair MUST be over 50

20 year MINIMUM age gap OR they BOTH have to be over 50

has to be conceivably reciprocal (s.exually, no necessarily romantically)

[revelboo]

Hello, I just wanna say I’ve been eating up your blog daily, I absolutely adore your writing and how you interpret the different bots, if it’s not to much to ask, could I request some more Waspinator?

Sure!

Worker Bee Pt 16

Waspinator x Reader

• “Nope!” Awkwardly sliding off the chair and into the floor to escape, you end up with a leg hung up on the chair and your alien bestie staring down at you. Scrambling to get up before he can ‘help’ you back up, you watch his antennae go back. “Remember the personal space talk?” Head tilting slightly, you shove a hand through your hair. Of course he doesn’t. You’ve only explained it how many times? “Okay. This is my personal space.” Waving your hands in front of yourself, you watch his wings flick. “Right? My space. This is your space.” Waving vaguely an inch away from him and he just leans forward, optics shuttering and pressing his face against your palm. “No, see, now I’m invading your personal space.” Even if it’s just a tiny bit cute. Blowing out a breath when he doesn’t move and just softly makes that humming buzz of noise. Right.

• Mandibles flexing when you pull your hand away, he watches you reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Waspinator’s space is little friend’s space,” he offers and you just frown at him. Can’t understand why you’re so funny about ‘your space.’ You’re sharing a hive aren’t you? A nest? Why is he allowed to touch sometimes and not others? Deciding it must be a weird human thing, your moods indecipherable sometimes.

• Maybe you should try something simpler? Because you doubt he’s going to stop clinging to you like a little kid with their favorite stuffed animal at this point. “Sure,” you mutter. “Maybe just watch where you touch?” Antenna perking up, he’s at least listening. Maybe. Who knows what’s going on in that weird, little bug head as he looks at you then at his clawed servos. “Like,” you start, face heating. How do you explain this to a big alien bug robot with the IQ of a decorative soap dish? Gesturing vaguely with your hands at off limits areas and not even surprised he immediately reaches out and grabs. “Yep.” Prying his servos loose before he tries to squeeze, you gently press his hand to his own chassis. “That’s a nope.”

• Venting at you, because he likes laying his head there to recharge. It’s soft. “Why?” So many rules. Too many, but he’s willing to obey for the most part if it keeps his little friend happy. But he enjoys curling up against you, your warmth and scent soothing him. Reminding him that he’s home. And he’s not relinquishing that. Had figured out that if he just keeps asking why when you ask him to do things he’d rather not do, you eventually just give up and let him have his way.

• You already know that’s his go to when he doesn’t want or just flat out isn’t going to do something. Unless you can convince him there’s a good reason to not do whatever he wants. Taking a deep breath, you roll your wrist. “Humans don’t touch there unless they’re together.” See his mandibles open and hurriedly add. “Intimately together.” And he’s just staring at you with those big optics. “And then only after they date and get to know each other.” Still just staring and you wait for the inevitable ‘why’ or worse, to be asked about being ‘intimately together.’ Cause he would ask and just stare blankly while you try to explain sex to him.

• “Dating?” And your shoulders sag at his question. Hasn’t heard that word before. Listens as you start explaining and realizes it’s courting. Human courting for a mate. Candies and flowers. Movie night. Fancy food. Mandibles working, it’s a curious thing. Can’t really figure it out. The food, he understands. Proving he can provide. But flowers and movies? Knows humans are a bit funny, though. If ‘dating’ is needed to prove his place in your hive, he’ll do it. It can’t be that hard and then you’ll stop this ‘personal space’ nonsense.

Previous

[louisaland]

SVU Season 16-17 rewatch

Season 16 is really good as a way to get to know the characters if, like me, you stopped watching after Season 12 ended and weren’t sure if it was worth continuing with.

I am very glad I did!

Amaro is just Stabler 2.0, as far as I can tell, but with a little more self-awareness as he realises he needs anger management classes and realises he needs to get out of the force for his physical and mental well-being and that of his kids. 

Olivia was obviously very attached to him, so I felt bad for her as she just keeps losing people. Working with Amaro evidently helped her get over Elliot leaving, and it seems like her relationship with Amaro was healthier than the one she had with Elliot. 

Amaro’s been linked romantically to Amanda, I believe? They are very similar from their upbringing and the way they internalise everything, so I c1n see why they would be drawn to each other.

When the two of them are talking/working  together and Carisi comes to give them some info/an update and they simultaneously answer that he’s not interrupting was funny. 

There’s a courtroom scene where Amanda is being questioned/cross-examined and she is asked about doing the right thing/having enough emotional support/what it means to be a good person and she’s looking in Carisi’s general direction. Very subtle, but made me squee!

I love that he hangs out with her and Fin outside of work, at the video games convention. Fin is still calling him noob/newbie at this point, so perhaps Rollins invited him? Those two always know all the celebrity gossip and who the famous people they need to talk to are. It ties in nicely to their later hang outs where they watch trashy reality TV together. Carisi I can see reading all his sister’s magazines and going to the movies with them to watch rom-coms growing up, as he seems to know a lot about them/says he loves them in the ep with the former teen actress and the producer.

Do we ever get the story about how Sonny was saved by the priests at his Catholic church? He mentions it in the big vlogging/TV religious family episode. I always saw him as a good student. For example  he’d be top of the class but would always ask questions so the other shyer kids who might not have understood and didn’t dare to ask would understand. Or he would tutor them. He seems to work very hard and be very focused, so I think he would be a favourite of the teachers. 

We know he was bullied physically and probably verbally too ( by Bobby Bianchi, at the very least), maybe because he was a bit of a goody-two-shoes. I really can’t see him ever getting into trouble at school or at home. We know he wanted to be a priest, so maybe he just spent a lot of time at church events to escape the bullying/find some real friends.

I was so prepared to hate Mike Dodds but he is very humble, is a bit annoyed to be there because of his dad’s nepotism and he refuses to be a tattle-tale. He apologises when he oversteps his boundaries, listens to feedback and generally gets on with everyone on the team. If he hadn’t had a fiancée, I’m sure he would also have fallen in love with Olivia too! 

Olivia is a very good Lieutenant. I see a lot of Cragen in her, as he would often give the team one-on-one pep talks and always tried to do the right thing when it came to members not doing things by the book. 

Maybe it got lost in translation, or I just struggle to pay attention to and understand the courtroom scenes, but Barba apparently says “Booyah, Fordham Law!” as a comeback/closing argument in a Season 16 episode, but I have never seen it though this is my second time watching. 

He was funny too when Carisi gives his personal and legal opinion on something and Barba says “That’s just your opinion, but yes, it’s correct”. 

Barba also wears fun, brightly coloured socks which are visible when he puts his feet up on the desk. I thought that was a fun way to show that he’s got a soft/emotional/fun side. Maybe because I know how he behaves in later eps towards Olivia, but I definitely find him less cold/unlikeable than I did during my first viewing. 

Something I read about was that potentially the show was going to have Barba and Carisi become romantically involved. Apparently the actors and writers were on board, but the network head said no. 

This would have deprived us of Rollins and Carisi though, and that would have been a big loss. Maybe someone like Dodds could have been gay and had a fiancé, thus having an openly gay member of the team and maybe some tension with Dodds Sr there. However,  Fin’s son Ken gets a storyline in that vein, when he and his husband have a child. 

On the tu/vous ( informal and formal you form) thing, Carisi uses tu with Amanda when she is at the hospital. This may be because they are of the same rank, but it definitely shows a level of friendship/closeness. 

Olivia, on the other hand, uses vous with everyone! Even Dr Huang, who she runs into with Barba, and she’s not in the office. She uses vous with Dodds Jr, even though she outranks him! 

[419jhat]

Back before Steve met Dustin the way he does in Steve and Eddie's Tryst Through Time, this was the original scene. I cut it up and added bits and pieces elsewhere. I thought it would be fun to share the original idea, even if it's incomplete because I scrapped it.

***

Steve woke up to the sound of the door being kicked in. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. Eddie groaned and flipped onto his stomach. Steve stared at him for a moment, taking in the first time he’d seen Eddie in a sleeping position other than “Dead in a Coffin.” (Except for the time they got high, and Eddie fell asleep hanging half off the bed. But Eddie’s drug-induced state didn’t really count.) The banging continued, so it was up to Steve to handle it. He slipped out of bed and opened the front door, only to look down. There was a child in front of him.

“Who the fuck are you?” the child asked.

Steve rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“Uh, hello? Dude, are you listening to me? Who are you?”

Jesus, the kid had an attitude. Steve examined him closer. He had a mop of curly hair shoved under a baseball cap and a Hellfire club t-shirt. This was one of Eddie’s kids.

“Are you looking for Eddie?” he asked.

“Why are you in pajamas?” the kid asked back.

What had he done to deserve this? Steve looked down at himself and then shrugged. “Probably because I was sleeping before I opened the door to the world’s bitchiest Oompa Looma?”

“If you're making fun of my height, I'll have you know that I grew two inches over summer and my family doctor says I'm going to keep growing. Why are you sleeping at Eddie’s place? Are you his brother? He never mentioned having a brother. You don’t even look like him. Are you adopted?”

“Ok,” Steve muttered. He swung the door shut right in the kid's face.

“Hey!” the kid yelled, and then the banging continued. Steve walked into the bedroom and picked up a pillow. He fluffed it for a second and then swung it as hard as he could at the back of Eddie’s knees.

“AAHH!” Eddie shrieked, leaping into the air and landing on his back. He scrambled out of the bed, arms out, ready to catch any more swings of the pillow.

“Why would you do that?” he whined.

“Go handle your kid,” Steve said.

“What?”

The banging continued.

“Oh my god what is happening,” Eddie whispered.

Steve followed Eddie to the door, which Eddie ripped open, looking more than upset he’d been woken up for this.

“Eddie! I figured it out! Your problem was that guy, wasn’t it? Is he a criminal or something? Are you hiding him from the police?”

“Your problem?” Steve repeated.

“How did you find out where I live?” Eddie asked the child.

“Chris told me,” he said.

“Fucking Chris,” Eddie sighed. “Dustin, it’s too early for this. What do you want?”

So, this was Dustin. Suddenly, Steve understood Eddie’s fear of children, if this was what he had to deal with. Steve wandered into the kitchen, where he could watch the drama unfold and make coffee at the same time. He never drank coffee to wake up, but Eddie did, and for once, he felt like he could use it too.

“You said we could come to your place to watch a movie.”

“At five in the morning!?”

“No, I’m just here to ask if you got the movie,” Dustin said.

“At five in the morning!?” Eddie repeated.

Dustin at least had the self-awareness to look embarrassed. “I thought it would take longer for me to bike here. I wanted to get here at six.”

“Hey little man, I respect the effort,” Steve said.

Dustin looked disgusted.

“Who is this again?” he asked, waving in Steve’s general direction.

“What are you, my mom? Why are you so up my ass about this, Henderson?”

“My name is Steve,” Steve said, as he poured boiling water into a cup with instant coffee mix.

“Steve!” Eddie barked.

“What? Is he not allowed to know that or something?”

��He’s never going to leave us alone,” Eddie whined. Steve handed him the coffee and Eddie took a careful sip. He made a face and leaned over the counter to grab the sugar.

“Why are you talking about me like I’m not even here?” Dustin pouted.

“Because I’m pretending you aren’t,” Eddie said.

“Can I have some coffee, Steve?” Dustin asked sweetly.

Steve shrugged and handed the kid his cup, which Eddie intercepted.

“I’m sorry, no. He’s already lost his fucking mind; he doesn’t need to add a stimulant to his current state.”

“You’re rude when you’re sleepy,” Dustin said.

“And you’re rude, like, all the time, you little stalker.”

Steve opened the fridge and grabbed some orange juice for him instead.

"I'm not a stalker!" Dustin protested.

Eddie looked like he was about to kick him out of the trailer. "Uh you found me when I was dealing at the quarry, and now you've managed to find my address. What, do you want my phone number too?"

"The quarry was different...we didn't mean to find you there," Dustin said with a degree of hesitation that Steve found to be odd.

"That's not what you said when you found me! You need to learn some boundaries, dude!"

Steve didn't know a lot about children, but the way Dustin looked down at his own hands and began fiddling with them made Steve think Dustin was hiding something. Then, Dustin looked right up at Steve like he was the real intruder that morning.

“So, was I right? Is Steve why you canceled D&D?” Dustin asked as he downed the orange juice in one gulp.

Eddie sighed and slowly collapsed onto the counter.

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell us. Unless he is a criminal or something. And if that’s the case, we may still be able to help you out depending on what he did. We know people.”

Steve wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but Eddie looked beyond irritated, so he figured it was his turn to jump in.

“I’m not a criminal, Dustin. Eddie’s an old friend and I’m staying with him for a bit. I had an emergency and he helped me out.”

“What kind of emergency?”

Who did this kid think he was, the FBI? He was nosier than his mom. Good thing Steve knew how to handle nosey people. He slammed his coffee cup on the counter and went with the closest thing to the truth he could think of.

“My parents died,” he said.

The blood drained out of Dustin’s face so fast Steve almost thought he’d fall over. Eddie turned around and gave Steve a look. Steve reached over and nudged his shoulder.

“Oh my God dude, that’s awful,” Dustin breathed.

“Yeah, so stop asking questions, you little shit,” Eddie said.

“Sorry,” Dustin said. He looked down at his shoes with guilt swimming in his eyes, like a puppy. Steve decided to take pity on him.

“Did you eat breakfast yet?” he asked.

“Yeah, I had some toast.”

“That’s not a real breakfast,” Steve said.

“That’s what we usually eat for breakfast,” Eddie muttered.

"I'll make you some eggs, and you can tell me about your D&D plan to turn on everyone."

"YOU TOLD HIM!?" Dustin yelled with all of the power of an energetic child. Eddie looked like he was going to cry into his mug.

"He's not in the campaign dude, it's ok."

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET!"

Eddie dropped his face onto the counter and Steve decided to intervene again.

"I don't really understand D&D, but it sounds like your character is secretly a bad guy? I thought it was super cool."

Steve cracked some eggs into a bowl and whisked them with a fork. When Dustin didn't answer, he looked over his shoulder. The kid was just staring at him.

"You thought it was cool?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, little dude. It's super creative. And to have kept it a secret this whole time? Genius."

He was laying it on a little thick, but it worked. Dustin's face lit up with the compliment and Steve realized he must have awakened something because then Dustin began to ramble about his character's story. The kid was talking so fast, all Steve could do was nod and hum in agreement as he fished around the fridge for cheese and any vegetables he could add to the omelets. Onions were his best bet. Eddie looked like he'd passed out right there standing up. When the eggs were done, Steve placed a plate in front of each of them.

"Wow, these are soooo good!" Dustin exclaimed. Then he turned to Eddie and smacked him on the back. Eddie shot up, nearly knocking his coffee over. "Dude, try this! Steve made it! He can cook better than my mom!"

"That's probably not true," Steve said.

Eddie didn't even wait for Steve to grab him a fork. He grabbed it with his bare hands and shoveled the omelet into his mouth like it was a hot dog.

"What are you-"

Eddie cut Steve off with an overdramatic moan of appreciation. Steve had to bite his lip to hide his smile.

"Oh. My. God. This is so good, I don't even want to add ketchup!"

"Alright dude, calm down they're not that good," Steve said.

"Steve. They're that good. They're so good I'm wondering why the fuck I've been making toast and peanut butter sandwiches every morning when we could have been eating like kings."

It wasn't polite to fish for compliments, but Steve was enjoying the praise.

"You want me to cook for you more often, Eds?" he asked, unable to hide his smile.

"If it's like this? Every fuckin' day, Stevie," Eddie replied. His fingers were greasy from eating with his bare hands like a weirdo and he'd dripped coffee on the front of his white T-shirt. He was a total mess but Steve couldn't stop smiling back at him.

"Will you cook for me too?" Dustin asked.

"No," Steve and Eddie said at the same time.

[lenniexprime]

Rejection.

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”- C. S. Lewis

┍━━━━━»•» «•«━┑

tfa! optimus x teen! senior! reader.

rejection fucking sucks dude. I hate getting those rejection letters. I really do. But honestly, I can't help but appreciate and be thankful for the schools I've gotten into. However, something about this is grief is only letting me cope through writing it. Share it with me, yeah?

┕━»•» «•«━━━━━┙︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ - Not Edited

Look at you... A college-bound senior, getting ready to take on whatever comes your way.

You've made it thus far...what can stop you now? The challenges are getting good grades, staying on top of things, and doing well on every test. You stayed up most nights, studying or doing homework. You've skipped out on days at the base or to hang with the rest of your friends on days or weeks before tests.

You may have messed around years before, but this year, this is your senior year. No room for mistakes, no room for too much error.

You've impressed yourself and others with such determination to get good grades on everything.

If you were being honest with yourself, that really wasn't the hard part. The hard part was the fact that you had to apply to colleges, get the right documents in, and ask for recommendation letters.

The stress took and is still taking over the majority of your whole life.

If you didn't think the weekends were getting more like weekdays before, then you definitely are now. You could barely catch a break and if you ever did it was so hard to get back into the grind of things. As time went on, you found you had little interest in doing things you enjoyed before. You looked at your video games differently, you could barely stay entertained for a whole movie, and your homework wasn't getting any more interesting.

One day, you were sitting in base, telling Sari about the dangers that are ahead of her in the years coming, but when two bots came in just as you were talking about how you found no interest in things anymore, she couldn't stop but just stare back at you while staring at the bots behind her, working on something.

You honestly didn't care about talking in front of the bots about your problems though. You didn't think they'd care that much about the situation.

Sari couldn't get the look of worry off of her little face as she stared between you and the bots. You didn't care much about it until she got up and left as soon as Bumblebee came.

You sigh and lay back on the couch, looking to the side, hearing thumps behind you.

"We are no strangers to losing interest in what we may use to enjoy due to excessive stress, but that does not mean you can't try," Ratchet says crossing his arms. "It is always nice to have a hobby or something to distract you," Optimus chimes in, his deep voice making you finally look back. You sigh.

"Also we're here, it doesn't hurt to talk to others during times of struggle," He adds.

Ratchet then walks off, leaving Optimus and you behind.

"My communication issues suck, but not only that but it's hard for me to try to communicate my teenage feelings to a 8-year-old and alien robots who have little to no knowledge of what I could be going through in here," You point at your head.

"Yes, we may not know, but at least you know you have a support system," he says quietly. "You were talking to Sari earlier, yes?" he asks rhetorically.

You close your eyes, shaking your head, putting it down. "Yeah Optimus, thank you," you mumble. "It's just hard, plus not only do I have to stay on top of grades, but I'm really nervous about being accepted to these schools," you say, hands motioning how you feel.

You look up at him again. "I'm scared of getting rejected..denied..worse," I say mumbling again.

Optimus looked at you, living in his own stress and despair, it's not easy seeing such a young human like you stress like he does. Everyone has their own responsibilities, but it gets to a point. He doesn't want you to be scared of rejection, he wants you to accept it, to learn from it, to push you through it. He remembers how he was, getting kicked out of the academy, he felt rejected and denied. He was still trying to recover. He wants you to understand that it's okay to make mistakes, to make tough decisions, or to be okay with a school denying you. It didn't define who he was (partially) so it shouldn't defy you.

"I understand your fear, I was there once, I had the pain of being denied, of being rejected almost," He went on, sitting next to you. "You have to understand that rejection and failure make us stronger people," He finishes, looking at you. "Don't be afraid to be sad, but don't let it take over your whole life. It's one moment out of many successes you're yet to have." He smiles at you. You smile back, finding some peace in what he had spoken to you. Maybe he found peace in his own words too.

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

hey! do you have any tips for running more? i have a love-hate relationship with it

YES!

I used to DESPISE running SO HARD. I've been running for seven years now, off and on (a LOT more off than on lol), but its only been in the last ten months that I really and truly have fallen in love with it!

Number one tip is to get a running app, really and truly! They're great for getting training plans to run to, holding you accountable, and tracking your progress! Seriously, it is SO AWESOME to get to see your stats improve over time, its so rewarding and wonderful! I've never personally used it, but my mom uses Nike Run Club, which she highly reccomends, so if you're looking for a simple, streamlined one to start with, go take a look at that!

btw have you heard of this special one called Zombies, Run!? Its a running app that is also an immersive audio drama that makes you feel like the main character in a video game and has singlehandedly gotten me from despising running to loving it- Oh, you have? okay then.... i mean,,,, if youre interested,,, i have an entire sideblog for it,,,, you could send me some asks about it,,,, i'd love to comply...

But seriously ZR has changed my life, I'm being totally serious here. I could elaborate if you'd like, but long story short, I am in the best physical and mental shape of my life bc of this silly zombie app with blorbos in it, so yeah, never gonna stop talking about it lol.

But the reason why that works, is that it makes running fun! Because lets all be honest, running for more than three minutes on a treadmill with no stimulation at all and nothing to think about besides the fact that you're running and that sucks is the WORST. And doing it outside is better because you're actually going somewhere and see things, but its still monotonus and then you're just lasered in on the 'running is horrible' part after a bit longer.

ZR is utterly brilliant because you are physically incapable of being bored while playing it lol. You're not running a mile away from your house then a mile back, you're charging through the streets of an abandonded city, holding a life-saving cure, your best friend in your headset imploring you to keep going as zombies approach, while having the survival of your fellow runner depend on you as they limp from their injury. It is THRILLING and takes your mind off of what you are doing.

BUT MOVING AWAY FROM ZR NOW FINALLY (sorry i really am obsessed)--

It works because you aren't thinking about running. So that's the cheat code, figure out how to run without thinking about what your body is doing and how it feels icky sometimes. You've gotta learn to be very motivated but then also INCREIDIBLY disciplined in order to stick to it. Find some music that makes you feel like you're in a superhero movie (I have some recs if you'd like!!), find a podcast that is super interesting on a topic that you adore, even go running with friends and talk to them about fandom stuff while running!

Find tools to take your mind off of it that works most of the time, and the in the small fraction of the time where you still don't want to do it, learn the discipline to follow through anyway.

But also, I've found that the main reason running stinks, at least at first, is your body isn't used to it. Really! Whether you haven't worked out in your entire life ever, or if you are considered one of the fittest people on the planet in like swimming or something, running is SUPER hard and super terrible at first because you aren't used to it! Even if you are super fit and healthy, the hard cardio and movement that running requires is just very different from everything else! So anyone getting into running ever should NEVER feel bad about themselves when they're just starting! Because it is a seperate and unique thing in its own category that is special and different! It is scientifically proven that it takes 6-10 weeks of running 10-20 miles a week before your body adjusts and then you're used to it.

But guess what? One day, you're going to be running, and suddenly realize that it is magic. You'll realize that you don't have to stop to walk when you usually do- you can go longer than you have before. You'll realize that wait, you can go faster now! Your pace is faster! And then you'll feel a rush of adrenaline and endorphins and oh! THIS is what they mean when they say runners high! You understand why its called is the healthiest addicting drug in the world now! You'll realize that you have a huge smile breaking out on your face and the scenery is gorgeous, even if its in a dark smelly gym, because you're doing it- you're running! And you love it.

Anyone reading this, please give running a good, earnest shot. Lace up your shoes three or four days a week and go jog two or three miles. Keep at it for two months. It'll be a hard two months. But it'll be so so worth it. Just try. What have you got to lose?

Running is magic, and now I'll never give it up.

[buckysouvenir]

between the lines (chapter 3)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader.

warnings: none.

word count: 933 words.

author’s note: hey guys! officially started the tags so if anyone else wants to get tagged so they can be notified when there’s a new chapter, just ask me! also the chapter are almost 1k words and i keep feeling like they are so short 😔 i love long chapters so tell me if you like the way it’s going or want longer chapters!

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

bucky barnes masterlist⠀ |⠀ series masterlist⠀ |⠀ last chapter⠀ |⠀ next chapter

It was another quiet evening at S.H.I.E.L.D., and Y/N was ready to kick back and relax. Her friends were already preparing for Movie Night in the lounge, something they did every week to unwind from the chaos of work. They’d pick a cheesy action flick or an old classic, and for a couple of hours, the world outside didn’t matter.

She grabbed a bag of snacks from the desk in her room, checked the time, and headed toward the lounge, trying not to be too distracted. But it was hard not to think about Bucky. It wasn’t intentional, it just happened. Every time she crossed paths with him, something in her chest fluttered. And it wasn’t just the awkwardness of their accidental collisions that left her rattled. No, it was the way his smile lingered longer than she expected, the way his eyes didn’t look away so quickly. It was the quiet moments between them that made her feel like there was more than just a casual acquaintance.

But tonight, she had to focus on movie night. It would be easy to forget about Bucky in a room full of her friends. Or at least, that was the plan.

She rounded a corner, lost in her thoughts about how her friends would make fun of her movie choice. But as always, life had other plans.

Y/N looked up to find Bucky Barnes standing right in front of her. 

“You sure you’re not following me?” she teased.

Bucky smirked, clearly amused. “You caught me!”

She playfully swatted him with the bag of snacks. He raised his hands in mock defense, laughing.

“So, what’s the deal? Out for a stroll, or are you just trying to bump into me again on purpose?” she asked with a teasing grin, her gaze lingering on him a second longer than she intended.

Bucky looked at her for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe I am trying to bump into you. What’s it to you?” he countered, his voice soft but laced with something playful.

Y/N felt a twinge of heat rise in her cheeks, but she kept her composure. “Well, if that’s the case, I should warn you—I’m heading to movie night with my friends. You know, the loud bunch who can’t sit still for five minutes.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Movie night, huh?”

Y/N grinned. “It’s just a way to unwind after a long week. We pick something mindless, order too much pizza, and complain about bad plot twists.”

Bucky chuckled, his smile growing. “Sounds like a good time.”

Without even thinking, Y/N found herself saying, “You should join us. We’re in the lounge. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” She instantly regretted the invitation. It was too much, too soon, wasn’t it? He wasn’t part of the team, not really.

But Bucky didn’t look put off in the slightest. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice a little quieter. “You sure? You might regret it. I’m terrible at keeping up with the movie talk.”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep her cool. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky said, nodding, clearly amused. “I’ll come. Can’t say no to an invitation like that.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he agreed. It wasn’t like he had to say yes. He could have politely declined, but he didn’t. There was something about the way he’d responded that made her feel like maybe he was just as interested in spending time with her as she was with him.

As they walked toward the lounge together, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Bucky. There was something about the way he carried himself—confident, yet guarded. He was still adjusting to this new life, but there was a certain ease to him now. It wasn’t the same Bucky she’d seen when he first arrived months ago, tense and unsure. He was becoming a part of the team, piece by piece.

They entered the lounge, where her friends were already lounging around. Daisy, Leo, Jemma, Grant, and Antoine waved them over.

“Who’s this?” Daisy asked with a mischievous smile, clearly already in a teasing mood.

“This is Bucky,” Y/N said, giving Bucky a playful nudge as she introduced him.

Bucky grinned. “Hey.”

“You’re a bit weird. You’ll fit right in,” Leo said, handing him a bowl of popcorn as if it were a regular Friday night for him. 

Jemma and Antoine exchanged a knowing look as they started the movie, and soon, Bucky was settling in beside Y/N on the couch.

For the next couple of hours, they slipped into the rhythm of the group—sharing laughs over cheesy lines, throwing out ridiculous theories about the plot, and shoving popcorn into their mouths. Y/N noticed how comfortable Bucky seemed to get, more relaxed as the movie progressed. Every now and then, he’d throw out a sarcastic remark or laugh at something someone said, and Y/N found herself smiling at how effortlessly he was blending in.

As the movie wrapped up and everyone started to pick up their stuff, Y/N turned to him, her voice teasing again. “So, you survived movie night. What do you think?”

Bucky leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his head. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,” he said with a wink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess you’ll be coming again next week, huh?”

“You know it,” Bucky replied, his grin wide and genuine.

#tags: @cjand10

[thecoolerbrother]

i think something moonage daydream was really good at doing was capturing a vibe

[bmpmp3]

the really beautiful landscape/skyscape animation in makoto shinkai's works tends to be the big thing i see focused on and that is understandable and deserved like the weather and lighting effects are unREAL but i do think we should also appreciate how absolute insane the plotlines of his original movies get. at least two movies with in universe catastrophes with major ecological implications. the guns and explosions. theres that one movie i havent seen yet with the guy who turns into a chair (?)

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[fmhobeus]

fwb!suguru who knew he wanted to fuck when he first laid eyes on you. then wanted to take you out to endless dinners to chat his ears off when he first spoke to you.

fwb!suguru who grew to like you without fucking you, almost forgot it was what he wanted you for – a life together or a night together?

fwb!suguru whose dick got painfully hard when you taunted him, rolled your eyes at him or outwitted him. he lived for your sassiness.

fwb!suguru who happened to fuck you on a random night unexpectedly and it changed the trajectory of his life.

fwb!suguru who stayed after every dick appointment. cuddled with you on the bed, watched movies or your favourite TV show, ordered take out and held you in his arms till you both inevitably fell asleep.

fwb!suguru who couldve sworn he wasn't in love with you. he would still fuck other people (and then come back to you, poor baby was thinking of you the whole time)

fwb!suguru whose grown accustomed to your presence. he calls you when he isn't feeling okay, you call him when something bothers you. he's grown used to you telling him all about work, how you got your nails done, how you saw a cute cat near your apartment. trivial details, which coming from anyone else he would hang up, but he looks forward to them with you.

fwb!suguru who eventually stops fucking other people and is just your man, without you knowing.

fwb!suguru who is determined to mark you up in placed people will notice. your neck, your thighs, your collarbones.

fwb!suguru who believes in giving you his all. all of his long girthy dick that pumps you full it should be criminal, his long slim fingers that have made you orgasm so often and hit that deep spot with unbeat ease, his long tounge... oh god his tounge. he thinks maybe even his long life ahead is yours too, all yours. his little kids too maybe? he doesn't like to think too much about that.

fwb!suguru who has to have your pussy checked with his tounge daily. he has to lap up your insides no matter any circumstances. his voice purrs across your body when he talks you through your orgasm.

"mhmm yeah cum all over my face beautiful, I know you want to"

fwb!suguru who gets sick at the thought of you sitting so pretty for another man when you tell him you're going on a date. suguru who looks so disturbed at the thought of another man even looking at his pretty girl who isn't really his.

fwb!suguru who takes you to corporate events just so he can call you his girlfriend, even if it's just pretend. when you question him it's always "easier explanation than a friend i fuck on the regular, isn't it?"

fwb!suguru who knows how you like your coffee in the morning. he knows what you like for breakfast, your comfort food, your hobbies, your favourite movies, your least favourite movies, your icks, your past. he knows you like he knows himself. he thinks of you when he passes your favourite cafe, he texts you when he sees something in the colour you like.

fwb!suguru who is sure he hasn't felt this way before, who is so vulnerable with you that it scares the shit out of him.

fwb!suguru who is afraid, angered at everything about you. he's angry at how you lull him into a sense of security, how you hold him, how sweet your voice sounds when you call him by his name, how you take care of him, how you listen to him. he hates how your pussy clenches his dick for dear life, milking it dry and how you never let a drop of his cum go to waste, licking it up like a little slut. he's fearful too. about losing you. about where loving you the way he does leads. loving you? wait. he loves you? fuck. fuck. fuck. this hasn't been according to plan at all.

[radioactive-cloud]

jesus my life is so awfully boring

[lovebugism]

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so. 

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play. 

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door. 

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure. 

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe. 

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

[aurorawhisperz]

You’re All I Need (r.c.)

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, family drama.

father!rafe x mother!reader

a/n: if this goes well and finds its way into my busy schedule, i’ll turn this into a series! and guess who just hit the two-decade mark.. 🎉🎂

summary: you’re sick, exhausted, and barely holding it together while caring for your daughter, juno, alone. desperate, you call rafe, your ex and her father, for help.

who am i to want you now that you’re leaving?

•

almost a year ago, you and rafe had gotten into a big fight over the summer that left both of you saying things that couldn’t be taken back. by the time he was gone, you thought it was over for good. he stormed off and it felt like the end.

that was the same summer you found out you got knocked up.

when you finally told him about the baby, he swore he wanted to be there, for both of you. but you couldn’t do it. you didn’t his half-assed attempts at playing family. so you told him he could be in the baby’s life, but not yours.

the day your daughter was born, nothing felt real. you named her juno, inspired by a movie you’d watched a hundred times during your pregnancy. you didn’t need rafe there that day. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

and for a while, that worked. until tonight.

the fever is unbearable, heat radiating from your body as you lean against the wall to steady yourself, your legs trembling beneath you.

juno cries loudly, sharp and continuous, her small fists waving in anger from her playpen. juno was only a few months old, but the sounds she made tonight seem louder than anything, or maybe it is the throbbing in your head that is making everything clearer.

you tried to calm her down—rocking her, even her close until your arms felt like they might give out but your fever had drained every ounce of strength out of you.

rafe was in the middle of a business call when his phone rang. he saw your name on the caller ID and immediately sensed that something was off. he excuses himself from the meeting and quickly picks up.

“what’s up?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and curiosity. “do you wanna have juno tonight?”you ask, not entirely aware of what you’re doing. “i don’t don’t know..I’m just..” then you sigh. “she’s been saying ‘dada’ all day and she refuses to eat.”

rafe winced at the loud noise. juno’s cries are clearly heard from the other end. it was clear that you were having a hard time, and he felt concerned for both you and juno.

“yeah, ‘course, i’ll take her.” he replies quickly, then rafe doesn’t waste any time. telling some lame excuse to his clients, gathering his things and completely bailing on the group of people in the meeting room.

the drive to your place felt excruciatingly long, but he kept his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible. rafe offered you and juno a spot at tanneyhill but since you were too petty towards him at that time, you declined.

He rushes to his car, his mind racing with thoughts about you and Juno. The drive to your place feels excruciatingly long, but he keeps his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible.

finally, he reaches your home and practically jumps out of the car, making his way to the door and banging on it urgently.

"(name)? it’s me! open up!" he calls out, the sound of juno’s cries echoing in his ears.

when you open the door, rafe’s eyes slightly widen in worry at your appearance. he could see the paleness in your face and the exhaustion in your eyes. he quickly steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for juno.

"are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "you look absolutely exhausted. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m fine, she’s in my room..” and rafe saw all the tell-tale signs of a fever as he watched you lay down on the couch. he knows you’re not as ‘fine’ as you claim but doesn’t push the issue for now.

a year ago, rafe cameron was chaos incarnate. consumed by his demons, or maybe he was the demon. the outer banks was his kingdom, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, the rafe walking up the stairs to go see your daughter isn’t the same man you walked away from last summer.

decades of being ward cameron’s son don’t just vanish but having a daughter changed rafe in many ways no one thought was possible. he’s more conscious, more quiet, like he’s constantly trying to prove more to himself than to everyone that he was better than the man who raised him.

you’ve seen him with juno, the way he holds her like she’s the only thing that matters in the world.

rafe watches you as you lie down on the couch, he frowns when he sees how weak you look.

he turns and heads straight to the room where juno is crying. he walks over to the crib and leans over, gently scooping up the little girl, holding her close to his chest.

"hey, little one," he coos, his voice soft and soothing. "your dad’s here." juno immediately stops crying as rafe picks her up, her small body calming at the familiarity of his touch and voice. rafe rocks her in his arms, gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort.

"there you go," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking her soft hair. "no more cries now, i’ve got you."

he walks back to the living room, holding juno close to his chest as he approaches you on the couch.

"hey," rafe says softly, his tone showing concern. "you really don't look well." he moves closer, gently resting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. as he suspected, your skin was hot to the touch.

you look up to see him with juno on his hip. “just take care of her for the night.” and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

rafe saw through the way your eyes struggled to stay open. he saw how sick you truly were, but you're trying so hard to hide it.

"damn it," he mutters, his voice tight with worry and frustration. "baby, you’re in no condition to take care of juno on your own right now. you need to rest, and i can't just leave knowing you're not okay."

rafe reluctantly looks down at juno in his arms, her tiny face looking up at him with wide trusting eyes. he then glances back at you, still lying on the couch, weakness written all over your face.

"i will," he replies firmly. "but first, I'm putting you to bed. you need to rest and get better. then I'll take care of the baby."

he heads up and carefully sets juno on the crib for a moment and then walks downstairs, over to the couch, gently scooping you up in his arms.

“put me down..” you whine. "no" rafe replies firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "you’re burning up with a damn fever. no condition to be worrying about juno right now." he carries you towards your bedroom, his arms holding you securely against his chest. though you protest, he ignores your weak struggles.

once he reaches your bedroom, he gently lays you down on the bed, making sure you're comfortable and settled. he pulls the covers up over you, tucking you in and smoothing back your hair from your forehead.

looking down at you, he can see how exhausted you really are, the fever taking a toll on your body. but his focus quickly shifts to the crib where juno is starting to cry again, her hunger growing stronger.

rafe watches you for a moment, concerned. the feeling of your skin under his touch tells him how high your fever really is. he glances over at the crib, juno’s cries growing louder.

"stay right here," he instructs you firmly. "i’ll feed our baby, then i’m coming back to check on you."

with a sigh, rafe picks juno up from the crib and brings her to the kitchen. he goes through the motions of preparing a bottle for juno, mixing the formula with warm water and shaking it gently until it's ready. he then sits down next to your bed, leaning back against the headboard while he carefully feeds juno the bottle.

his eyes occasionally flick to you, checking on your condition. even though he's busy feeding the baby, he keeps a watchful eye on you, noticing every shiver and every sign of discomfort in your sick state.

after a few minutes, juno is satisfied, her tiny belly full and content. she starts to drift off in rafe’s arms, her small eyes growing heavy.

he carefully passes the baby back to the crib and turns his attention back to you. he returns to your bedside and sits down, his eyes studying your pale and weary face. the sight of you in this state was devouring him from the inside.

your eyes flutter open. “rafe, take her to your house..” then you turn to the side, your back facing him.

rafe looks down at you, gently taking your hand in his own, it broke his heart a little. the fact that you're asking him to take juno now.

"baby," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "you’re still burning up. i can't just leave with juno while you're like this."

it was always like this with rafe. back then, whenever you didn’t want him to care for you, when you pushed him away, built your walls high, and told him you didn’t need him, he’d force it anyway. he had this annoying way of ignoring your protests, showing up when you least expected it with that hot stubborn determination in his eyes.

if you were sick, he’d be at your door with soup, even if he didn’t know how to make it. if you were upset, he’d sit next to you in silence, waiting until you caved. it didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him you were fine; rafe never listened. he cared in the only way he knew how to care; recklessly, even when you swore you didn’t want him to. that part of him hasn’t changed at all.

“come on, she’s your only priority at the moment.” you try sending him away. his grip on your hand tightened a little at your words. “don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorts, his voice stern. "juno will be fine with me at my house. but you're not. you’re sick and need rest and care. i’m not just gonna abandon you like this. not happening."

“you don’t have to stay anyway… you’re not my husband or boyfriend or anything. you’re just her dad.”

rafe bites down at your words. he knows he’s nothing more to you than juno’s dad, but hearing you say it so bluntly still stings.

“no, i’m not your husband or boyfriend,” he replies, his tone sharper than intended. “but damn it, i still care about you, even if you don’t want me to.”

before you can respond, a shiver racks your body, your fever making you tremble. rafe notices immediately, his frustration giving way to concern.

“jesus, you’re burning up,” he mutters, leaning closer to place the back of his hand on your forehead. “why didn’t you tell me you were this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. standing up, he moves to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth. he gently presses it against your forehead, his jaw tight with worry.

“you’re in no condition to be alone right now,” he says firmly. “especially not with a fever this high. you need someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

“take her,” you whisper, your voice weak. “i can take care of myself. you don’t have to do both.”

“damn it, will you just listen to me for once?” rafe snaps, his voice low but laced with irritation. “you’re not fine. you’re barely holding it together, and you want me to just walk away? why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

“i don’t need your help,” you insist, glaring at him weakly. “just watch juno. that’s all.”

rafe exhales sharply, trying to keep his temper in check.

“what’s it gonna take for you to get it through your head that you need support too?” he demands. “i care about both you and juno, you idiot. why can’t you just let me help you when you clearly need it?”

“and why does this concern you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. his eyes narrow at your question, frustration bubbling over again.

“why do you think it concerns me?” he bites out, his voice rough. “you really have to ask that? you think i don’t care about you? you think i only see you as juno’s mom?”

you manage a breathy smirk, too weak to move but pleased nonetheless. “i knew it… son of a bitch.”

“knew what?” he challenges, his tone sharp. “that i actually give a damn about you more than you think? if you know, then why are you still fighting me on this? why are you so damn stubborn about letting me help?”

your smirk stays on your face, though your eyelids are already drooping from exhaustion.

“yeah, i care about you,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “you drive me absolutely fucking insane with how stubborn you are, but i still care. happy now?”

when you don’t respond, too tired to argue anymore, he shakes his head and adjusts the cool cloth on your forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” he says, and there’s no point in arguing. “someone has to take care of you since you clearly can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

the room feels smaller with him in it, like his presence is closing in on you from all sides. he settles next to you, the mattress dipping slightly, and it’s awkward, too close for comfort, too familiar for what you are now. exes. nothing more.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, your voice scratchy and weak. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t care,” he says, not even looking at you. his voice is calm, steady. “you’re burning up. if i get sick, so what?”

you try to sit up, even though your body feels like it’s made of lead and your head pounds with every slight movement. the fever’s still got you in its grip, but lying there next to rafe feels like too much. too intimate. too close.

but the second you push yourself up, the world tilts. your balance wavers, and before you can steady yourself, your head drops against something solid.

his shoulder.

rafe lets out an annoyed sigh as he watches you struggle to get up, knowing full well that you're too weak to stand on your own.

"damn it, woman," he mutters as you collapse back onto him. "what did I tell you? you’re supposed to be resting, not trying to get up and walk around like a lunatic."

he gently wraps his arm around you, supporting your weakened body against him.

"just stay still and don't move," he whispers. "you’re in no condition to be up and about. you need to rest and recover. you know i’ll take care of you, right? stop trying to do everything on your own."

rafe gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch light and soothing.

your hand finds its way to rafe’s arm, fingers gripping him weakly, as if holding on to him will keep you steady. rafe freezes at the touch, his gaze dropping to where your hand rests against his skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels like everything all at once.

he doesn’t pull away. instead, he shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to gently squeeze yours, his grip warm and steady, like he’s anchoring you.

“you’ll get better,” he murmurs. “just give it time and let yourself rest. let me look after you for once, okay?”

you think about the way things used to be. sneaking off when you had the chance, meeting him at the beach under the cover of darkness. stolen kisses, the kind that made your heart race. rafe was always the one who pushed boundaries, the one who made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe looks down at you, the question pulling him out of his thoughts. he takes in your pale face, the tired lines around your eyes, and sighs. part of him wants to say no, to avoid whatever this is turning into, but he knows he can’t leave you like this.

“yeah,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. “yeah, i’m sleeping here. someone needs to keep an eye on your stubborn ass so you don’t try to do chores at three in the morning.”

you let out a weak laugh, but it fades quickly. “you shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “it’s—it’s awkward. it’ll just make things weird.”

rafe arches a brow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a frown. “why are you acting like something’s gonna happen between us?” he counters, his tone light but laced with something deeper. “it’s fine. stop overthinking it and just… lay down. you’re not gonna win this argument.”

before you can protest, he gently guides you back down, his hand steady at your back. the warmth of his body against yours is impossible to ignore, but you’re too drained to fight it.

then, out of nowhere, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture is so tender it takes your breath away, but you’re too tired to react.

as your eyelids grow heavier, your mind drifts back to the first time rafe said he loved you. it wasn’t in a quiet, romantic moment, it was in the middle of an argument. his voice had been loud, angry and raw, but it was real. rafe always let things spill out when he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

now, as sleep pulls you under, you hear his voice again, quieter this time.

“i miss you,” he whispers.

you don’t respond. maybe you’re too far gone, maybe you don’t want to. but maybe you miss him too.

[xenteaart]

the hard way

pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it

“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.

“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”

you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.

you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.

“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.

chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.

chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.

the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.

the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.

you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.

“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.

it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.

you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.

what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.

your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.