#i swear i got myself so sad when drawing this

[reidsqlick]

You’re back.. || (S.R)

The second part of “You’ll be back, right?” — Part One!

pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

summary: he said he’d be back for you, you waited.. he hadn’t shown.. what’ll happen?

warning(s): (MDNI 18+) stress, nausea, self-degradation, skin picking, pet-names, fingering, swearing !! (i believe that’s all..)

word count: 1,8k

‘He had gotten up from the mattress, it springing up due to the loss of his weight. Once he reached the handle of the door you yelled out to him, "You'll be back, right?" your voice drowsy, dripping with tiredness.

He looked back for a moment, smiling softly, "Right."’

—

The room was pale, normal for a hotel room. It was dark, gloomy, very much on the brink of unsettling. You hadn’t quite realized this before.. not really minding the room, it’s average, right? You’ve been on this job to be able to say you’ve been in enough hotel rooms than the average person does in a lifetime, but this room.. it’s different. A pit starts to form in your stomach, a feeling of utter emptiness.

Well.. now it’s different. The obvious lack of your previous partner is enough to make you weak, not that you weren’t already.. but your mental state is becoming ever so fragile by the second. He hadn’t returned. He said he’d be ‘right back’ and truly, an hour and a half doesn’t seem to be ‘right back’ to me.

Reid had always been a man of his word.. in fact, he had promised you he hadn’t wanted to leave, yet the minute he did and got the chance to be stripped of your company, he took it. The pit in your stomach grows. Didn’t he want you as a partner? Didn’t he want what you wanted? Did he lie? Why does he always make you feel like this, one second he likes you, the next he’s gone without a word.

Tears begin to form in the creases of my eyes. Am I truly that naive? So naive I let the man I’d fallen hopelessly for three years ago take my virginity? I had to constantly remind myself not to let myself go, and here I am.. alone in a hotel room miles away from home, hopelessly trying to grip onto a sliver of hope that he’ll return any second.

The sad part is I actually thought he’d be back, I trusted him with my feelings, with my body. My stomach turns, a single tear falling from my eye and burning my skin, like a fire igniting within me… anger? No, not at all anger, but pure regret. I told myself I’d handle myself around guys, especially that one, and I hadn’t. I left myself down. Another tear falls from my glassy eye.

I want to reverse what happened, go back and tell myself that this had to have been another thing for Reid to have against you, another way for him to turn against you, another way to control your feelings in a way that was more than belittling.

I claw at my skin, picking at it, dangerously close to drawing blood, but I don’t care. My stress takes control, my body shaking, my skin an absolute wreck. I need an out, I need to be out. I want to be home.

I feel nauseous.

I’m rocking myself from side to side, a mechanism I’ve had since I was a child. Biting my lip, picking at the skin that surrounds my nails. I feel like a child. I’m so childish. Couldn’t I have denied him? Why do I let him into my heart when all he does is break mine? The pit in my stomach drops, I need to puke.

I crawl out of bed, and run to the bathroom, jerking myself forward, feeling my stomach turn. I hate loving Spencer Reid. It’s a mistake, one I shouldn’t have made, one I poorly made. I need to take it back, I need to leave the team, I need to be home, why did I drink so much?

As I sit there, direly close to puking everywhere, I hear the doorknob rattle, once the person on the other end had realized the door was locked, a knock came seconds later. I pulled myself off of the floor, I’m dizzy. Mental note to self: take medication for this headache.

When I open the door, unaware that it would’ve been smarter to look through the peephole before, it opens to a panting Reid, a concerned look on his face, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth when he saw my face.

He reached his arms out, springing forward to hug me, and he won’t even shake hands with people? His arms on me feel all too familiar, I’m nauseous. I want to push him away, but I need him here, I’m a puddle of nothing without him.

I’m so pathetic, it’s depressing.

I sniffle, having only cried minutes earlier. “Where were you?” I said quietly, almost a whisper. He frowned, keeping his hands steady on my waist “Pretty Girl…” he shook his head at what seemed to be himself, “I’m so sorry. I went to grab clothes for tomorrow so I would be able to stay with you tonight, I didn’t want to leave you alone..” he said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean it, I had searched my go bag and couldn’t find anything, I stressed, and that stress led to me being so tired I fell asleep, i didn’t want to leave you, love.. please understand.” You sniffle again, another tear falling from your eye, is he lying? If so, it’s got to be the worst lie he could’ve come up with.

He lifted one of his hands to your face, his thumb wiping away your tears, your cheek felt hot, the same fire from earlier getting hotter. “I waited for you.. you promised you’d be back..” you looked down, not needing to see him right now, it didn’t help your case.

“Angel..” his hand still soft on your face, his touch seemingly healing all that’s wrong. “you’ve got to believe me, I wouldn’t leave you like that, ever. You should’ve came and woke me up.” He shook his head again, “I shouldn’t have even been sleeping, princess.. trust me when I say I didn’t mean this even a little bit.”

You had to tell him you were a virgin, but first you needed to not be standing up, you were already dizzy, and this is the type of conversation you’d sit for. You waddle to your bed slowly, him following suit, once sat he was directly next to you, sitting against the headboard, hand slung around your waist, thumb rubbing circles into your plush skin.

“Reid…” your voice cracked, “I need to tell you something.” He nodded, “Mhm?”. The pit in your stomach returns again, eating you from the inside out. “I’m.. a.. well I was.. a-“ a tear falls down my cheek “virgin.” He’d completely had moved to face you, hand moving to your face to wipe your tears.

“Angel,” he spoke, quieting you when you’d almost interrupted him, “why didn’t you tell me? I.. was I? Too much..?” You giggled foolishly, tears still leaving your eyes, the faint taste of salt now lingering on your lips. “No, not too much.. just.. figured you- should know.”

He smiled softly, moving both of his hands to the side of your face, “Can I kiss you?” He asked, you nodded. “Do we have to go through this again? I’d prefer it if you used your words, Angel.” All that could leave your mouth was a faint “yes,” a whisper, silent consent for him to make his next move.

His mouth was on yours in an instant, his tongue entering your mouth tasted like your tears, making you wince. You melted into the kiss, feeling safe, feeling content.

The kiss had gotten heated quickly, your hips bucking into the air, a faint “please” left your lips. He broke of the kiss, “Hm? Couldn’t hear you, princess..” “Please, I-“ he chuckled, “You?” you looked down.. “I want.. more.. please?” He’d move his hand to your chin, lifting it, enforcing eye contact.

“Your wish is my command, pretty girl.” He smirked, spreading your legs, and reaching under your pajama pants, finding your apparent lack of underwear. “Oh..” he smirked “so wet already, all ready for me, right? No panties.. you wanted this.” His finger ran up your slit “you were waiting for this.” Your head fell back, whimpering his name.

He groaned in appreciation, his hand moving to circle your clit, watching your hips buck, hearing your name fall from your mouth with no remorse, he loves this. He loves you. Always has.. “Feel good, doesn’t it? I’m gonna take care of you, Angel.” More whimpers left your mouth.

He didn’t want to be too harsh on you, he wanted to take care of you, to apologize in the only way he knew. He was good with statistics, talked about them for hours, rambling as much as he could get in a conversation. His feelings? They’ve always been hard for him, he’s best through expressing how he feels physically. This is his way of apologizing, and you knew it without him even telling you.

He stopped his circles to move his fingers down to your aching cunt, it tightening around nothing, you were his favorite sight he’s ever seen by far. “You ready for them, princess?” He asks you, teasing you softly, “y- mhm, mhm yes.” You were essentially incoherent, he understood half of it, and the other half was answered by your body’s reaction to his words.

His fingers entered you slowly, but couldn’t keep that pace for long, watching your face contort under him was something that’s going to be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his life. His pace had sped up fairly quickly, not too fast where it’d hurt, but fast enough to make your legs shake with such ease you didn’t even know how a person could do such things.

You gripped onto the sheets, whimpering incoherently, “I- p- lease… m- fuck.. close…” how he can make you so needy, and get you ever so close in such a short amount of time baffles the both of you, he chucked, moving faster.. anything for you, forever. Your head cocked forward and you had locked eyes with Spencer, “I- Reid.. I’m- c-“ he cut you off, “let go for me baby, please. Let me make this up to you..” he brought his thumb back up to rub small, tight circles, matching the rhythm his fingers had kept.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Your whole body warm, to cold, to hot, shaking like you had just hours before due to him. You had pulled your pajamas back up, and gotten closer to him, needing him.

The pit in your stomach was gone, vanishing without a trace.

“Thank you…” you smiled up at him, snuggling into his chest. He rubbed circles into your waist with his hand, “Anything, Angel. I don’t care what I have to do, but I promise, I’ll make this up. You didn’t deserve any of that, me leaving you? That was cruel, and I’m sorry.” He took a deep breathe, “I’m never going to leave you like that again.”

You spoke up, “Promise? And I mean promise. No empty ones, but ones you’ll stick to.” He smiled to himself, “Promise. I’ll fulfill however many promises it takes to make this one up to you..” you giggled, “I love you.” He whispered, making himself just loud enough so you could hear him, “I love you too.”

The room was livable again, I could breathe. I was relieved, the walls no longer feeling claustrophobic, I guess I won’t leave the team after all… Spencer’s worth waiting for.

A/N: I’m so sorry this is SOOOO bad holy shit but here you guys go i hope uu like it! please, i beg.. tell me how i did or something feedback really helps w stuff like this 🙏🙏

[factual-fantasy]

27 asks! Thanks yall!! :}} 📐

@milk-powrit (Referencing this post)

..Because I don't like Zooble. 😐

Zooble up to this point just hasn't been a pleasant character most of the time for me- She swears like a sailor, is always flipping people off and being rude left and right. Not my kind of character. 💀

Now you might say "Zooble clearly has some issues going on deep down that makes her act that way" or "Zooble is mean to Caine because she doesn't like her body" In this case, I point you to what I said on that post-

"while I know many characters are likely to turn out evil or turn out to be really sweet, I'm taking them all at their current face value. Hope this helps some of my maybe.. surprising? Tiers make some more sense" This was directed at Zooble and Jax. They've probably got some lore that will make me sympathize with them but currently I just don't like it when those two characters are on screen :|

I will say though that Zooble was saved from being moved even lower in the tiers for the tenderness she showed in setting up Kaufmo's funeral.. <XD

@eggnonymous

Little does the egg know I have a frying pan behind my back.... just in case.. 👁️👁️

@i-dogtor-dog

Feeling pretty rough <:( but doing my best.. <:) 👍 Also thank you! :)))

(Link in ask)

Woah.. the designs for this AU(?) are wild :00

@thangone

Woah! Your artwork is looking great! :DD And what a cute littol fwoggy :)))

His voice gets on my nerves if I listen to it for too long- but otherwise he's really funny and I like him as a character :)) I will be really sad if/when he turns out to be an evil master mind/the villain or something :(

They belong in Minecraft.

@neo-metalscottic (Kinger love post)

Hello! :DD I'm glad to hear you liked my Kinger post! Its nice to see him get so much love after the new episode :)) the poor guy deserves it.. <:(

Now Funky Kong, he is in my AU :00 and I intend to incorporate most other Kongs as well! Maybe I can tie in his "traveling salesman" type vibe and make him a brave/reckless Kong that likes to explore new areas on their island..? :00

As for Kirby, the Anime has a special place in my heart. And I also know barely anything about the games lore- The characters also seem to have a lot more personality in the Anime. For better or for worse <XDD

My favorite from the anime is definitely Metaknight. His only downside is he doesn't appear to have wings. <:/ (I remedy this in my AU >:) )

@stupid-thatsme

If I read this correctly, it seems like you wanted some written out explanation or something? If so I'm afraid I cant help you there- I don't consider myself to be very good at explaining art things-

The best I could do is draw some examples and try to explain the drawings. But since you said you already know all the lines and stuff.. well.. :x

@weirdweeb83

Now THIS.. Is some proper Halloween candy 🤩

@holly-opal

Not anymore! :)

@p0wer-up21

One of the scariest creatures on Earth <XDDD

@mrrebel7

AAA THANK YOU!! :DDD AND THAT'S AWESOME TO HEAR!! :))) I hope your project goes smoothly! :))))

XDD I can pronounce that just fine!

OH YEAH ITS YOU! :00

Also yeahh,, things have been really tough for me.. I'm doing my best to keep my head up and get through it. I'm hoping to get some relief from my symptoms soon. <:/ Thank you <:))

That's not a fun fact, that's a sad fact :( I'd rather people never find me then find me through waves of stolen artwork..

But none the less, thank you. I'm glad to hear you like my art! :))

@marionette-jester

I don't know if this is an insult or a cursed compliment XD But I choose to give you the benefit of the doubt and think the latter! So thank you! :)

@the-8th-of-w1zards

AAAA THANK YOU!! :DDD Also I've been drawing far too long to remember my original inspiration.. but my guess is playing sonic games and wanting to draw Tails..? XDD Maybe Pokémon too..?

Meh 🤷 not particularly interested in those guys

Thank you! :))

Idk how long I'll play, but so far I've been enjoying it! My favorite cookie based on appearance is Star Coral cookie. Story/personality wise its a tie between Pure Vanilla and White Lily-

O_O oh dear-

@inkyblots

All I have to say is use references and do you very best to keep the drawing in model <:/

:DD Thank you! :)

Oh yeah, I've seen some of those around 😅 They're not really my taste anymore-

@captain-skyler1987

Uhg, that's always disheartening to see. Thanks for letting me know.. <:/

@hershelwidget

I cant share most of the books I read for a few reasons- but the book you're talking about sounds so good!.. And so sad.. <:'(( I'll have to keep it in mind! :)

[ddejavvu]

So I finally use makeup and i feel like i unlocked a new part of the store (im 19 sad ik ) and i might have spent my whole paycheck on makeup (didnt mean to ) and while I was doing that i kept getting thoughts of Bradley looking at the price of makeup and being flabbergasted (I was looking for a highlighter and i found one and was gonna get it BUT it 17 dollars for a SMALL AND I MEAN SMALL highlighter stick so I got a new one ) i just know Bradley would be so stunned. But he try to help but he would lose his mind at the prices

Bradley's mostly content to wander behind you with the basket when you shop, but as your hand reaches for a lip gloss tube, his eyes widen.

"Baby," He hisses, "That's- twenty-nine dollars? Isn't that lip gloss?"

"It's a celebrity's brand," You point at the label, "That makes it more expensive."

"Jesus. Well don't get that one," He scoffs, "Isn't there shit by the counter for cheaper?"

"I want this one!" You retort indignantly, "It's my money, Brad, I can do whatever I want."

"I'm not trying to control you," He swears, "I'm trying to save you money! I saw a color just like that at CVS for six bucks."

"Is Rihanna the one selling it?" You raise a brow at him, "Makeup's expensive, that's just how it is."

"I guess. Twenty-nine dollars for lip gloss," He grumbles as you toss it into the cart, "That's, like, a meal out, baby. I could buy a new pair of shoes for that much money. And- Forty dollars?!" You're surprised his jaw doesn't drop through the floor like a cartoon, "Babe! That little jar is forty dollars!"

"Keep your voice down," You round on him in a fit of giggles, covering his mouth so as not to draw attention to yourself in the bustling store, "I know, baby. Like I said, makeup's just expensive. Let me just grab what I need, and then we can go, okay? I'll make us something for lunch, we won't spend any more money."

"I don't know if I can financially support this hobby of yours," He regretfully informs you as soon as you remove your hand from his mouth, "Baby, I mean it, I'm happy you like this stuff, but this is gonna break the bank."

"I said I'd use my own money," You promise, though you're certain he'll slide his card through the reader before you can even get yours out of your purse; he always does. "It's okay, baby, it lasts for a while. It's worth it."

"I hope so," His shoulders slump, and you know he's not going to cause another scene, "I just can't believe they're allowed to charge you that much for a tiny little tube. I mean, my shampoo is five dollars, and it comes in, like, a gallon."

"I know, honey," You placate him, looping your arm through his own. You neglect to mention the fact that you're fairly certain his shampoo is also technically body wash and conditioner, and how that might be why it's so cheap, "I know, it's okay. Next time I'll come by myself, I promise."

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Faust with a Star who's an artist and asks him to pose for drawings (HCs/Short Story, whichever works for you!!)

Draw me like one of your French girls!

Bc of how cute this idea was I made it both <33

Loves being your model, doing poses you need with ease as you sketch it quickly

Honestly if you called him your muse he's giggling while telling you to stop (continue doing it he loves it so much)

If you need a specific pose he let's you move his body as you want it

Also 100% down changing outfits if you need to use them as a reference as well, he's basically Barbie with how many outfits he'll change in to

Makes silly jokes about the titanic how he's the Rose to your Jack.

When you finish the work he asks if he could post and brag about his awesome artist partner!

If you posted it already he's sharing it to all his social media platforms. Giggling as everyone complements how amazing it is

During streams he always talks about how you drew him again saying how loved he is by a artist.

"Like this?" Asking as he posed in front of Star. Looking at them with a soft smile, relaxing into the couch he lounged on. Faust's partner turned their head and smiled at the pose.

"Perfect! Your such an amazing poser! My muse!" Praising him, Star grabbed their pencil and started to sketch the base of how his body in on the couch. Preening Faust giggles hearing the nickname he loved so much.

"Is this for another commission?" Questioning, Faust watched as his artist's hand flys across the canvas. Quickly capturing how the pose is, he always loved seeing them work. It was like magic how they formed a blank surface into art.

"Yep! Red, is what he said to call him wanted an exact picture to that of Rose from the titanic. But it would be his partner." Mumbling Star's eyes shifted back and forth. From to canvas at their side to Faust posing in front of them so perfectly.

"Oh? Even naked? How scandalous~" Giggling as he wiggled his eye brows. Causing Star to snort at him, but then nodded as they recall the commission agreement.

"I know right? He got consent from his partner to send me a nude picture. Hopefully I do it justice!" Sighing out, Star remembered the first commission they did with a naked model. "I swear if I butcher it I'll quit art."

Faust pouted at that, but then remembered how distraught Star was when the commission was turned down. They tried redoing it multiple times but the commissioner just didn't like it. Huffing out Faust turned his head to them and spoke.

"Well if that person wasn't sooo picky! You wouldn't have felt bad. You redid it like....a thousand times! Honestly I wonder if they were just trolling you...." Mumbling out the last part, Faust saw Star shaking their head. Causing him to roll his eyes, Faust wishes they could see how their art was perfect and amazing.

"But still, I only need the pose then I can work from there. You wanna watch me work again? Might take longer than expected." Whispering as they focused on the canvas. Letting Faust think it over then sighing at them, shaking his head slightly.

"Can't there's this new game out I got sponsored for to play and I gotta do that before it'd deadline. Maybe when your done with this commission we can play together?" Asking hopefully, Star was on a break from gaming. To focus on finishing the few commissions they landed. Once again his partner shook their head, giving him a sad smile.

"I'm sorry muse, but I'll make it up by playing with you on Friday. I wanna focus on this commission. Don't worry I won't push myself that far." Giggling out the last bit. However Faust gave them a look, to be serious about the breaks and not pushing too far.

"I swear if you accidently don't eat for a day like last time and get sick. I'm killing you. With love of course." Smiling innocently as he batted his lashes. Star nodded at their partner, better to agree or it'll be a long conversation.

"Of course my muse, my moon, love of my life-" Babbling nicknames for him, Faust gave them another look to stop talking or they'll focus on praising him.

"Oops! Well, I'll sing your praises another day. Now, let me fix your pose real quick I think you moved a bit too much." Mumbling out as Star got up and tweaked with the pose a bit.

[silentglassbreak]

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Just having a lovely good time with this. We are getting there, I swear it. 😘 (I promise there’s method to my madness.) Also HEAVILY recommend listening to the chapter song title - especially toward the end of this chapter. Levitate by Sleep Token.

Warnings: No smut today. But I fucking cried writing this chapter, and I hope you do too (I'm so sadistic). Sadness. Graphic descriptions of vomiting and overall being sick. Fluffy, heartache chapter. OH and graphic depictions of violence and blood (in a dream setting, don't stress).

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @knivesforapro @diabolicdiatonics

Part 7 - Levitate

At what point do you start drawing lines in the sand? I asked myself that question over and over the past several weeks since the party. Who was fucking with who anymore? I'm certain neither of us really knew the answer.

Mileena was still seeing Justin, our mishap in the bathroom on the 4th being unspoken of again. It never happened. I kept trying to remind myself of that, each time I saw her, the only times our paths crossing being during pick-ups and drop-offs of Addison.

I had fully expected her to become scarce, but to my surprise, she was letting business go on as usual. Even being around more often. Part of me wanted to hope that meant she was slowly inching her way back to me, some undying need inside of her not being capable of keeping a distance. That thought was shut down, however, when Nick mentioned that he was asked to go on a double date with her, Laura, and the Ken doll (my favorite nickname for him).

That came about two weeks after the party, and I just shrugged it off, assuming that meant Mileena had truly forgotten about the bathroom, or was forcing herself to.

Still, she showed up, sometimes spending half an hour or more at the house when dropping off Addie, making small talk with me, once in a while even flirting. It was casual, comfortable, and for some reason, it didn't bother me to know that she was likely fucking that other guy. Something in my gut just told me to be patient. Good things come to those who wait.

So that is exactly what I did. I gave her room to exist, letting myself exist somewhere near her being good enough for me most days. In all honesty, the lack of pushing made some space for a very good friendship that we never gave the chance to grow before. Sure, the attraction was clear, but she started telling me things; things that I didn't get to hear before.

'Nick and Laura are gag-worthy. It's honestly kind of annoying.'

'I'm going to go back to work soon. I got a job offer, but the last two years off have been so heavenly.'

'I miss Washington. We need to take Addie up there to visit Dad.'

She kept throwing that word around. We. I never wanted to bring it up. Never wanted to spook her. Rather, I stood there and listened to her most times, smiling softly at her, loving the way the light filled her eyes when she was excited, or she came in close for a hug whenever she was sad. I took every second. I accepted it graciously, happy to exist.

Today, however, was not a good day. Today, I felt like a bin of hot, rancid, putrid garbage. We were stood in the green room of a venue in Buena Park, getting ready for a pop-up show, when I felt an overwhelming sense of nausea hit me. All day, I had felt off, but had brushed it off as the heat, stress from the show, and exhaustion hitting me all at once. I had slept most of the day, working to get myself out of the funk, trying like hell to prepare for the show, but I couldn't shake it.

Now, feeling my insides threatening to make their way out, my eyes darted around the room frantically, eyes falling on a nearby trash can. I bolted for it, collapsing onto my knees before emptying everything in my stomach into the bin, heaving painfully.

After successfully spitting out the last of the vomit, I sat back on my heels, trying to breathe deeply. My episode had caught Jolly's eye, and he ran over, face cringing at the sight.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I pointed at a stack of napkins on the table behind him, and he handed me a few. I wiped my mouth.

"I don't know, man. I was good, and then I just had to hurl." I was trying to determine if I was done puking, my stomach still rolling around.

"Eat something bad?" Nick had joined us now, hands in his pockets.

"Fuck, man, no idea. I guess." I shrugged, tossing the napkins in the can.

"Do we need to cancel? If so, we need to let Matt know now." Jolly's voice was concerned.

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm good. I just need a minute."

"You sure?" Nick raised a brow at me, and I stood up.

"Yeah. You guys got any gum?"

Four songs. I made it that far. I worked so hard, swallowing all of the saliva building in my mouth, keeping my face even. But as soon as we hit Glass Houses, and I had to start screaming, I had to run off stage, emptying my stomach once again into a trash can off of the side. I had thrown my mic hastily on the stage, making it clear that my abrupt exit wasn't planned.

Jolly, still vigorously playing the music, repeating the same riff, stepped off to the side and gave me a glance. I was kneeling, gagging dryly into the can. I saw him motion for everyone to stop. The music and lights cut sharp, and I leaned my head on the cool rim of the metal can, breathing heavily.

Folio stood over me. "Noah?" I looked up at him.

"I can't. I'm so fucking sorry."

He was shaking his head. "No, bro. You're fucking sick."

My body was covered in a slick, disgusting sweat, but I was still shivering profusely. "I'm freezing, dude."

Folio looked up. "Uh, hang on." He jogged off to the side of the stage, returning with my coat that I had discarded after the first track. "Here."

I stood up and pulled it on, not feeling much relief, my skin screaming as the fabric brushed over it. I took a moment to calm my body before walking back out to the stage, the crowd cheering as I did.

I picked up my discarded microphone and waved. "Well," I put a hand on my hip and huffed a laugh out. "I'm so sorry about that, guys."

The crowd cheered for me, but I was still fighting the feeling of another impending puking spell.

"So, I think I'm sick." I chuckled, and I saw the guys shaking their heads, smiling. Nick was already taking his bass off, and Jolly was walking over next to me. "I'm so sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to finish the show tonight, folks."

It was met with cries of sadness, and I frowned. "We're so sorry." Jolly's voice came through his own mic. "But we will schedule a make-up show. We've just got to keep this guy away from the gas station sushi."

Nick and Folio laughed with the crowd, but I just gagged, pressing it back down. Jolly slapped me hard on the back, which made me flinch.

"We're going to get this guy into bed, guys. But, before we go, we thank you all for being here!" Jolly hollered, and the crowd cheered.

"And can we give it up for Noah, guys?!" Nick hollered out, causing the venue to erupt. I just gave an embarrassed nod and began stalking off stage, feeling another wave oncoming.

-

Nick drove me home last night, walking me inside to make sure I got into bed properly. I only managed to get my pants, shoes, and shirt off before I folded into bed.

"Alright, bro, I've set a bowl on the nightstand, in case you don't make it, and I've got a water bottle next to you." But I was already half asleep when he left.

I was awoken to the doorbell going off, and I groaned, my back muscles screaming at me, and my stomach rolling inside me when I swung my legs off the bed. My head pounded hard at the sensation of sitting up. I felt truly horrific.

I stepped downstairs slowly, my body aching with each drop of my feet. I rubbed at my eyes against the sunlight, opening the front door.

Mileena stood in front of me, grocery bags in hand, and staring brightly at me, her faced etched with worry.

My eyes widened when I realized. "Oh, fuck! It's Sunday!"

She shook her head. "Oh no, I didn't bring Addie. I didn't want to risk giving her the plague."

I rolled my eyes as she walked past me into the house, closing the door behind her. "Then why are you here? Don't you not want to get it?"

She waved me off, heading for the kitchen. "I'll be fine."

She was back after a second, and I hadn't moved from where I stood by the door, focusing on staying upright as the room started to spin. Her eyes examined my face, a look of sympathy on hers.

"Oh Noah," She rubbed a hand on my shoulder. "you look like shit."

I smirked, my eyes nearly closed. "Thank you for noticing, I feel like it too."

I yawned, stopping it short when I felt as though I may gag again.

"How'd you know I was sick?"

"Nick called Laura last night. Told us about the show. I almost came over then, but Nick said you knocked out pretty quick."

I opened my eyes, then, giving her an inquisitive look. "So, you're here because...?"

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "To make sure you don't die?"

Leena was trying so hard to be convincing, but I still smiled playfully at her. "Oh sure. You're just here cause you couldn't stand the thought of not seeing me."

She rolled her eyes at me, smacking a hand gently on my chest, which made me whine, rubbing the spot. My skin was so sensitive.

I saw her face flinch, realizing I was tender. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry." Her fingers rubbed the spot she hit, but I wiggled away, the contact uncomfortable.

She then pressed her palm to my chest, scrunching her brows. "Jesus, Noah." Mileena grabbed my face and pulled me down, pressing her lips to my forehead - something she always did when checking for a temperature. "Fuck Noah! You're burning up!"

Scurrying into the kitchen, then back to me in a flash, she had the thermometer in her hand, brushing it across my forehead. Everything was happening in slow motion for me, the room still threatening to turn on it's side at any given moment.

"Fuck! 104.9 degrees!" I just nodded dryly, not fazed. "Noah, you may need to go to a doctor."

I groaned, walking over to the couch and sitting slowly. "I just want to sleep."

She followed me, pulling my legs up to stretch on the couch. Her hands grabbed the blanket I kept on the back of it, stretching it out over me. "Fine, but I'm staying with you a while. I don't like that fever."

I scoffed. "I'm not too fond of it, myself."

She grabbed the remote and turned the television on. "What do you want to watch?"

I moaned, absolutely suffering. "Don't care. Whatever you want."

She took up space on the other end of the sectional, tucking her feet underneath her and scanning to Hulu.

"Just nothing about food." I felt my face begin to turn green, and she noticed. She ran to the bathroom, grabbing the trash and placing it near my head on the floor. "Thanks, babe."

I watched her still, glancing at me, wanting to correct me. It was a reflex that I hadn't meant to say, but in my current state, I couldn't find the willpower to care.

She must've known, because she just turned up her lips, and softened her eyes. "Of course."

I let my eyes fall closed, my head calming while I heard the opening to Grey's Anatomy play.

I woke up to a lurch in my stomach, my eyes flying open, and my hand instinctively grabbing the trash, retching hard into it. Not much had come out, mostly bile, as I hadn't held down anything for about thirty-six hours. I opened my eyes, bleary with involuntary tears, and saw the end of the couch empty, but the TV still playing.

"Oh, Noah!" Her feet tapped the floor softly as she ran into the living room.

She circled the coffee table, and sat next to me on the couch, her hand rubbing small circles on my back. Setting the can down, I leaned back on the couch, fighting to get air in my lungs.

"What the fuck?" I grit through my teeth. Her hand was now on top of mine, her thumb massaging into the tattoos on my skin.

"I know. Must be a bad bug."

I leaned down, grabbing the edges of the bag in the can, preparing to get rid of it. Her hands came in, shooing mine away.

"I'll get this. Go brush your teeth."

I stood, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair, and realized I was still in just my boxers. It hadn't even occurred to me, too sick to realize how gross I must look.

"Sorry you have to see me like this."

She snorted, tying the bag up. "Noah, you watched me give birth. I think we're okay."

I smiled at her tiredly. "You don't have to stay. What about Addie?"

She walked to the front door, slipping on my slides so she could walk outside to the can. "Uncle Jolly and Uncle Folio took her out for the day. Laura told me to stay as long as you need."

I was sick, exhausted, and half-dead, but I couldn't help what came tumbling out of me.

"And what if I never let you leave?"

Her hand hovered over the door knob, her neck twisting so she could look at me, a sad expression on her face. "Go brush your teeth. Your breath is rank."

I smiled. It wasn't a 'no' or a 'shut up', so it was progress.

"I think I'm going to shower, actually."

She just nodded before disappearing outside to dispose of the garbage.

I climbed the stairs carefully, lightheaded. I walked straight into the bathroom, turning the water to scalding, and stripped off my underwear. I glanced in the mirror, cringing at the sight. My eyes held dark, grey circles around them, my hair was visibly greasy, and my lips were pale and chapped.

Real sexy, Sebastian.

While I waited for the water to get hot enough to melt my skin, I brushed my teeth, working hard not to gag again. Once I spit the last of the toothpaste out, I stepped into the hot water and took a moment to adjust. I had a feeling my fever had broken, as my skin didn't hurt quite so badly.

I took time to scrub my body, letting my body calm as I felt the previous day rinse off of me. I quickly washed my hair, not even bothering with conditioning or anything extra. Then, I just stood there, letting the warm water wash over my back, my forehead leaning against the cool tile, zoning out while I breathed deeply.

"Hey." I heard her voice, which I didn't react to. "You alive in there?"

I flipped the handle, turning the water off. My hand grabbed the towel on the hook, pulling it in and wrapping it around my waist before opening the curtain. She stood in the doorway, and I heard her inhale a sharp gasp when her eyes caught me standing, my hair dripping down my face. I flipped it back and eyed her.

"I feel like death."

Her eyes were blown wide, and her lips parted slightly, not responding. Normally, I'd be taking full advantage of the moment. However, I was sure my stomach couldn't handle any sudden movents.

"I, uh," She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "I brought some Zofran. We need to get you to hold something down."

I stepped out of the shower, sighing. "If you think it'll help."

She held a hand out, a small white pill in the palm. I walked over, picking up the tablet and holding it on front of me.

"How do I know you're not drugging me?"

She pursed her lips, smirking. "You don't."

I shrugged nonchalantly, and dry swallowed it.

Standing inches from her, smiling mischievously. "How's my breath?"

Leena grinned earnestly, then. "Better." She lifted a hand to the back of my neck, pulling my forehead down to her lips again. She hummed in approval. "That's better too. Now c'mon," She tugged at my wrist, pulling me out of the bathroom. "let's get you dressed and into bed."

I took note of the sweats, underwear, and t-shirt laid out on the bed. I also noticed the blanket being fresh.

"I changed the sheets for you. They were still damp from you sweating all night. I set up the trash can next to the bed, water on the nightstand. You need to drink it." She was using her Mom voice now, which had me staring at her, amused. "When you're ready to try eating, I've got Saltines, cheese, and a few different soups."

Eyes boring into her, I couldn't help but grin. "I appreciate you, Mileena."

The look on her face told me she was not troubled by any of her efforts. "You know I don't mind." She scanned the room, and began turning around. "I'll let you get dressed."

"Are you leaving?"

She stared at me, her eyes sparkling. "Do you want me to?"

A tinge of red crept up my neck, suddenly shy. "I mean, no?" Breathing out a chuckle, I picked up the underwear, letting the towel drop. Her eyes only flashed down to me for a split second, her throat swallowing hard. "But I get if you need to get back to Addison."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "No," She had her lips held tight together. "I checked in with Laura. Addie's fine. She said I can stay however long."

I nodded. "I've got pants on now." My words were lighthearted, finding humor in the fact that she was trying to preserve my modesty, as if she hadn't seen it all before.

"I figured I'd start disinfecting the living room while you napped."

I sat down hard on the bed, slipping the shirt over my head and wincing, the sensitivity coming back.

"Or, you could watch TV with me."

She stared at me, as if I was insane. "Is that such a good idea?"

I leaned back, pulling myself under the comforter and sinking down into the mattress.

"I mean, if you don't want to catch this crap, I don't blame you."

Sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, she laid a hand on my stomach softly. "I told you I'm not worried about that."

I laughed. "Well, you don't have to worry about me trying to come onto you. I get nauseas just breathing. I couldn't imagine what having sex would do."

She let out a hard cackle, smiling with all of her teeth. It was a nice sight to see, even on the brink of death.

"Well," I could tell she was weighing her options. "I guess it's fine. Mind if I borrow some pants? Jeans aren't exactly comfortable."

I just gestured to the dresser. She knew where to find everything. She slipped a pair of joggers out of the drawer, stepping into the closet to change. After, she came over to the bed, her side, and sat on top of the blankets, pushing her pillow up against the headboard, and flipped the TV on.

"Still no requests?" I just shook my head. She started Supernatural, picking up where her and I had left off on the last season, sitting back and watching the screen intently.

After a few minutes, I rolled onto my side, facing her, in a desperate attempt to ease the hard ache in my diaphragm. My body felt sore from dry heaving and the virus that crept through my veins. Eventually, I grew frustrated with the uneasiness each position had me in, growling.

"Come on." She motioned for me to scoot closer, pulling her legs under the covers and half-laying on the pillow. I moved myself to lay my head on her stomach, arm draped over her middle. Her fingers began running through my hair, nails scraping gently over my scalp the way she knew would have me snoozing quickly.

I buried my nose into her shirt, breathing easily. "Hey Leena?"

"Hmm?" She was into the show, but I still couldn't help myself.

"How would Justin feel about us just cuddling?" I smiled, reminiscing of the first time we cuddled on her couch, two years ago.

She snorted, clearly remembering exactly what I was referring to.

"He'll live. You may not. Priorities."

"So I take priority, huh?" My voice was slightly muffled against her, but I was warm all over thinking about it.

"You're the father of my child, Noah. And my best friend. Of course you do."

My hand squeezed her side in a sad attempt for a hug. She gripped my hair a touch tighter at the root, earning her an appreciative moan from me. So fucking relaxing.

"You should get some sleep."

"Are you and him still...a thing?"

I felt her chest heave. "Is that really a good conversation for right now?"

I raised an eyebrow she couldn't see. "We're best friends, right? Just pretend I'm Laura or something."

She laughed at that. "No can do, babe. Laura's prettier than you."

I waved a finger in the air in front of us. "Nuh-uh."

Her body shook with laughter.

"Ah Noah, insufferable as always."

I could only hum at her, my arm falling back to her side.

"You can tell me, Leena. I won't get mad."

Her voice was careful. "Kind of."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly that, Noah. Kind of." She sighed. "I like him, but..." She trailed off.

"But what? He’s not as dreamy as you had originally expected?" I smirked at my words, which came out in my voice.

But her words were somber.

"He's not you."

My face fell, processing what she had said.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Her fingers pet my hair softly now, smoothing it down. "Get some sleep, babe. I'll be here."

Even with the firecrackers exploding inside of my chest, the overwhelming exhaustion was taking over, blurring my vision. Sleep overtook me quickly, my eyes closing while her hands soothed me into oblivion.

-

"I don't love you, Noah. I don't think I ever did."

"She's never going to be with you again."

I pulled at the metal shackles around my wrists and ankles, screaming at the top of my lungs behind the leather bound around my mouth. My skin burned from all over, unable to breathe in enough air to fight any harder.

"This is how you die, Noah. Alone. No happiness. No dignity. No family. You're pathetic." Leena was stood inches from my face, Justin just behind her, staring wickedly.

"She's mine now, bitch."

The veins in my neck strained as I tried to bite down on the bind in my mouth, my flesh bleeding as I pulled against the steel holding them to the table I laid on.

Justin picked up an instrument off of the tray, a long, razor-like blade that looked medieval.

"You deserve this, Noah. For being such a fucking failure." The laugh that pressed out of her was maniacal, bouncing off the hard walls of the dark room. "Addison will never have to see how fucking sad and horrid her father was."

Justin stepped over to me, using one hand to rip the tank top I wore. I pulled harder as he lowered the blade over my stomach.

He smiled at me. "I hope you didn't pay much for these tats, dude, cause they're about to come off."

My eyes bulged, my chest heaving as I shook my head hysterically.

The blade sunk deep into my skin, a sharp, piercing burning flashing over me as I watched the blood pouring out of me.

My screams were wet and desperate, tears flowing down the sides of my face into my hair. I stared at Mileena, begging her to stop this, but she just smiled at me, her yes dark.

"Oh Noah! You're doing great!" Her words were all venom, and I couldn't breathe now, a weight pressing on my chest. I looked up to see Justin pressing his palm down as he dug the blade in deeper, piercing my organs.

Blood pooled in my throat, and I tried spitting it, only for it to fall back down into my mouth, making me choke.

"Noah!" Mileena clapped, smiling wildly. "C'mon Noah!"

"Noah! Noah, wake up!" I felt my body shaking. "Babe! Wake up, honey!"

I startled, my eyes snapping open, and sat up abruptly. My eyes scanned for the trash can, grabbing it and lifting it into my lap, violently throwing up into the bag. I could feel the tears coming out of eyes, and I lifted my head, my body still shaking with sobs.

"Baby," Her hand was on the back of my neck, her voice calm in my ear. "it's okay. Let it out."

Heaving again, I ejected any stomach contents I had before taking a few deep, hard breaths.

"Done?" After a few seconds, I nodded. "Okay, let me take this."

She grabbed the can and stood off the bed, walking back into the bathroom. Returning with toilet paper in her hand, she tore some and handed it to me to wipe my face.

She crawled into my lap, pulling my face into her chest, as I cried hard.

Usually, I try to be masculine about it, crying quietly, privately. However, I was still so shaken by the nightmare, that I let myself wrap my arms around her, wetting her shirt with my hot tears.

She shushed me, rubbing calming circles on my back until I was able to breathe evenly again.

"Bad dream, huh?" I only nodded in response, unable to speak. "Yeah, fever dreams are the worst."

After several long moments, I shifted so she could scoot off of me, standing and heading into the bathroom, running my toothbrush over my tongue and teeth again, washing the taste of stomach acid out of my mouth.

I came back to the bed, pulling her back into me.

"I'm sorry."

We were laid together, tangled on top of the blankets, and she giggled.

"Don't apologize for having a bad dream. You can't control that."

"It was so bad."

She reached a hand up under my shirt, splaying her fingers out on my chest. "Sounded like it. You started screaming."

"Ugh, I'm sorry."

Rather than lecturing me again for apologizing, she just hummed.

"I've got you, babe."

I noticed Supernatural was still on. "How long was I out?"

"About two hours. I think I dozed off a little, too." She traced my skin with a fingertip. "You think you want to try munching some crackers? You're dry heaving so bad because you don't have anything to throw up."

I sighed hard. "I guess."

Another hour, and I was sitting up on the bed, breaking the crackers into four and taking at least fifteen minutes to eat each one. My stomach didn't like it, but needed it. I had earned a love/hate relationship with a sleeve of Saltines, and that's just fitting for my whole fucking life, isn't it?

Mileena was eating a sandwich she had ordered from her favorite spot, pulling pickle slices off of it and popping them in her mouth. We both watched the screen intently, making odd and end comments about the movie we watched.

"This isn't nearly as good as the first one." She spoke around her bite of food.

I shook my head. "Nah. The first Nun was actually a little creepy." I pointed at the TV. "This one is kind of boring, actually.

"Agreed." Leena popped another pickle in her mouth.

I smirked at her. "I still don't get that. Why not just eat them on the sandwich?"

She stuck her tongue out, a perfect round pickle slice sat in the center, and crossed her eyes at me. I stuck my fingers out to pinch her tongue, but she sucked it back in quickly, giggling at me.

Although my stomach still hurt, and wasn't pleased that I had filled it with six crackers and a half of a water bottle, I felt a slight energy surge, so I didn't want to try falling back asleep yet. Not after my last nap. I shuddered at the thought.

Her eyes fell on me, noticing my shiver. "You want to talk about the dream?"

I shook my head, looking down at the cracker I was breaking. "It's fading anyway."

Mileena raised an eyebrow at me. "Mkay, well you let me know if you change your mind." She turned her attention back to the movie.

"What time do you have to go?"

She stood off the bed, balling up the paper from her sandwich, and tossing it in the trash can. "I called Laura after you woke up, and she told me I was fine to stay over if needed. Addie has been really good today, and tomorrow her and Nick are taking the baby to the aquarium."

Expressionless, I tried not to let the hope swell too much in my chest.

Still, I croaked out. "Slumber party?"

She laughed, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door. "Oh sure! We can paint nails and have a pillow fight!" She hollered from behind the door.

"I'm into it!" I yelled back.

"Yeah, well I'm all yours, then."

I smiled triumphantly. If I had known this was how to keep her around, I would've been licking doorknobs ages ago.

She returned, perching back on the bed. Her eyes glanced over to me comfortably, a smooth smile on her face.

"Leena?" She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Seriously, have you told him you're here?"

Her face fell, her gaze dropping to the remote in her hand. "I haven't."

I huffed, leaning back. "Maybe you shouldn't."

Her eyes looked up at me from under her lashes. "Can I be honest with you, Noah?"

My face twisted into a frown. "I expect nothing less."

She turned completely, facing me, and her legs crossed underneath her.

"I'm not good at this." She gestured between us.

I raised a brow. "What do you mean?" I looked over to the nightstand and down at my crackers. "Being a doctor? Could've fooled me."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "No, dork." She looked back down out her hands. "Being broken up."

My head leaned back against the headboard. "Ah."

"I just," She pressed her lips together. "I miss you. And that makes it so hard, because I know you miss me too. You tell me all the time."

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. "I do."

"I want to be with you all the time. I think about it all day, every day."

I wouldn't dare interrupt, despite the increasing surge I had to kiss her, touch her, hold her. Anything.

"I damn near talk myself into coming home every day, Noah." Her eyes were getting wetter, and I just wanted to press my lips to her forehead. "But then I remember. Being alone."

My heart twitched.

"I don't know. Justin is...good." Ouch. Didn't need to know that. "He has a good job. He likes me, so much." She rolled her eyes. "He's good-looking, funny. He likes everyone. He respects the hell out of you." Shocking, truly. The feeling wasn't at all mutual.

"But," Her hands fell flat on the bed, a deep breath filling her. "I don't feel what I do when I'm with you."

My face was curious. "And that is?"

"Alive." She stood up then, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the bed. My eyes followed her every move.

"Noah, I spent a long fucking time just...breathing." She stopped, eyes boring into me. "But then I met you, and I felt like something inside me woke up. Like I had been on autopilot, but then, suddenly, I was driving again. At a hundred miles an hour."

I smirked.

"Even now, after all this time, I feel so drawn to you. Like a magnet, or gravity? Maybe that's the same thing, I have no fucking clue."

"It's not. Continue."

She narrowed her eyes at me, but continued pacing. "Either way. I can't find that feeling with him."

She sat on the bed then, right next to me.

"It's like that feeling of being on a roller coaster, when your blood is on fire, and your heart is racing? But then you get off of it? And everything goes back to normal? Do you know what I mean?"

"I do."

"The second I left your hotel room that night, it was like I stepped off the coaster. And for a while, I loved that. It was relieving, not knowing when it was going to drop. It was nice to know that I finally had control." A tear rolled down her cheek. "But then...I hated it. I felt like I was at a standstill."

I lifted my hand, wiping the tear from her cheek, using the other to rest on her shoulder.

"But every time I saw you," Her voice cracked, wet. "it was like I was awake again; alive."

She shook, a cry breaking through her. I pulled her, then, bringing her in close to me. I held one arm around her body, locking her in close to my chest. My other holding the back of her neck, squeezing gently to comfort her as she cried.

"I got you, Leena." I whispered in her ear. "I'm right here."

Her hands gripped my shirt tight, legs pulled up underneath her.

"Babe," I pulled her up so I could look into her eyes. "I know this is so hard. But it's truly whatever you want. Whenever."

I pulled her back down.

"I'm always here, just for you."

She laughed then, a sarcastic sound. "Noah, I can't ask you to sit around and wait for me to figure my shit out."

"You don't have to."

This made her cry harder, and I squeezed her tight.

"I love you Mileena. More than life itself."

Her voice was strained. "God, I love you so much, Noah." She cried between her words. "I miss you so much it hurts."

I felt my own tears brewing. "I know. I do too." I inhaled hard, trying to hold my own hurt back behind my hard exterior. "Every day. Every moment."

"Can we just pretend for today? Can we just act like nothing ever happened? And be us? Please, I'm so fucking tired. I just need one fucking day." Her hands were pulling at me, desperate to get closer.

I wrapped both arms around her in a tight grip.

"Of course we can, baby." I spoke into her hair. "Anything you want, my love."

[heartfall-syndrome]

Soooo! I was going through my piles of drawing in my room since I’m switching with my sisters room and basically just seeing what I had to throw out, when I found a bunch of doodles from a project I completely forgot about. Said project I never shared here but I know at least ONE of you knows about and probably knows I was behind it sense they also happen to be the first person who ever followed me here. (I’m not gonna @ them sense I’m not sure if they’re okay with it, but if you know I’m talking about you and are fine with me mentioning you pls dm me and I’ll include you here!)

Anywho! That project was an ask blog! More specifically an ask blog for an au I made when I was in the middle of my mha fixation ✨Vigilante Spinner✨ I did delete the blog and most of the art I made for it for reasons I won’t start yapping about here.

But I was thinking about bringing that au back! Not as a new blog but I could start post about it here sense I had a LOT of plans, ideas and stories that I never got to share. For example the whole plot about what the hell was going on with their family (specifically their mom). And I REALLY wanna continue this au cuz it was genuinely so fun to make!

And I did some digging and found more art that I thankfully never deleted! So if any of this rings a bell! Hello you have found me again!

I’m really sad I chose to delete almost everything I made on that blog, sense every interaction was so sweet and the people who were following the story were genuinely so kind and amazing

I MEAN WHAT THE HELL PAST ME!?!! I’m gonna go back and slap myself i swear T^T

[sadvid]

camp camp makes me insane ramble. do not click more unless you are so so very insane

camp camp is gonna make me go fucking insane i can't fucking do this anymore there is NOTHING!!!!!! NOTHING!!!! ALL THEY DID WAS GIVE US TINY PISS DRRROPLETS WITH ONE EPISODE FINALE SAYING MAXS PARENTS DONT CARE AND DAVID SAYING YOU DONT DESERVE THAT AND NOW IVE BEEN IN THE TRENCHES FOR YEAAAARSSS. i have read fics with over 100k words i have drawn so many things and imagined so many scenarios with angst and hurt/comfort and stupid stupid thoughts that would never ever happen in the show in a million years HIS ASS IS NOT GETTING ADOPTED DADVID IS NOT REAL GWENVID IS A SICK JOKE i love them so much you don't understand. i forgot to take my meds. oh my goddddd. THERE ARE LIKE THREE CAMP CAMP FANS LEFT BECAUSE THE REST WERE NORMAL PEOPLE WHO JUST WATCH THE SILLY CAMP CARTOON THAT SAYS FUCK. they dont wonder about the possibilities of a sad ten year old rejecting happiness but slowly allowing himself to be vulnerable and loved by a counselor who is surrounded by hate and despondency but stays positive despite despite despite because nobody else will and he wants to be the source of happiness that he wish someone was for him. NO! they say HAHA the ten year old said fuck! oh my god the non swearing counselor said fuck too that's so profound! oh no the ten year olds parents bad :( HAHA NOW HES BALD!!!! and after a month of the show being gone they LEAVE because they're NORNAL!!!!! but i. I AM IN THE TRENCHESSSSS. you have no idea you have no idea. listen maybe i'm just a little insane because i am a max who needs a david JUST MAYBE! and i think this is just a lot of me projecting my desperate need for love and my simultaneous rejection and fear of it onto max. And my need for someone to keep persistently and loudly loving me no matter how much i reject it. PROBABLY!!!!! i don't care i don't care how fucking insane i sound I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY I COULD talk about this show for hours i wish i didn't have job or school or life so i could write and anímate camp camp season 6 7 8 9 10 infinity and kill the warner brothers and write 500k word ao3 fics. IM INSANE. i am picking up crumbs and calling it a wedding cake do you understand. god i'm i i i i i i i i it's 2024 it's been too long too many years of this.... too many got damned years. every time i pick up a pencil i draw max camp camp. i have drawn david's stupid fucking face so many times its probably become the shape of my brain wrinkles. i go feral thinking about gwen's hair looks like down or what the fuck these characters last names are. Can you fucking believe i hyper fixated on a character whose last name i dont even know. hey who's that small angry fucker you're always doodling. uhh max. max who. max... camp camp. WHO?!!! DAVID?!!? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH?!?! MAX CAULFIELD?! i'm going to set myself on fire. i really truly am. i love them i live for nothing but a ghost child on an island and a silly friend trio. when will it end. when. i love them if you couldn't tell

[mrs-snape5984]

“I have nothing left. And all I feel is this cruel wanting…”

“And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here, I'm just as scared as you.” (“Lost in paradise” by Evanescence)

I have to put a trigger warning (suicidal thoughts and swear words) on this post and I’m doing this before I’ve even written my text. I’m sorry. I only need to scream my pain out.

1, 5 years. 535 days. 12840 hours. 770400 minutes. 46 224 000 seconds. Approximately.

1,5 years ago, my life became my personal hell. I feel captured in my own useless body…captured in my goddamn dark room, captured in my fucking overstimulated mind. And who’s my sadistic prison guard? It’s this cruel bitch of a disease ME/CFS!

Wasn’t it enough yet?! Am I such a horrible human being, that I really deserved even more shit in my life?! There have been so many ordeals in my life…so many rough times, disabilities and diseases…so much anxiety and stress to deal with!!! What have I done wrong to deserve all of these dreadful things?! Seriously, what have I done?!?

I must be some kind of a magnet for disasters…I can’t explain it in any other way to myself. Maybe, I’ve just yelled “here!” for all these experiences…maybe I’ve volunteered accidentally?!? Watching your parents fighting night after night until you have to intervene again and again? Here! Being sexually abused at the age of 12 years? Here! Being raped at the age of 15 years? Here! Multiple surgeries and endless pain? Here! Domestic violence? Here! Multiple Miscarriages? Here! Months of pregnancy staying in bed at the hospital? Here! Fighting for the lives of your extremely premature born children without a partner on your side, even though they were the result of ICSI treatment? Here! Colitis Ulcerosa? Here! OCD? Here! Disability? Here! Several other severe illnesses? Here! Getting ME/CFS and being doomed to a life in darkness and silence? Here! Here, here, here!!!!!!!!! Fuck me sideways!

Is it me? Am I the problem?! What have I done wrong! Tell me, God, what shall I do to end this madness…to finish this suffering?! I’m already broken!

And yes, I know, I have three wonderful children….and I’m forbidding myself to leave them behind…to leave them alone. They need their mother. I know that all. But seeing the sadness in their little faces every day…noticing the disappointment in their voices every fucking day…it’s breaking me.

I’ve tried to have dinner together with my children tonight. Therefore, I wore my noise canceling headphones, my sunglasses and I told them to be as quiet as possible. And still….still….fuck! Their movements, their voices, when they spoke all at once…the light in our dining room…everything was too much for me!! I got disoriented…overwhelmed by this overstimulation. All I could do, was to close my eyes and to wait until dinner was over. I couldn’t eat or drink, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t interact with my children the way, they deserved to be treated by their mother! So…what kind of mother am I now? I’m just a shadow of the mother…of the person, I’ve been, before ME/CFS started to destroy me. I’m only a pathetic failure. My children deserve more than that!

I’m hopeless…and all I want is to let myself fall…just like Julia lets herself fall into the tempting abyss in this heart wrenching drawing, which I’ve commissioned from my dear friend @madfantasy. I’ve told Mani to make Severus come and save her. He’s there…holding her back…grabbing her in the very last moment, screaming “Stay with me, Jules!”. Severus is her last anchor. Severus is my anchor. I won’t let myself fall with him by my side.

Mani, my precious friend, I can’t tell you how grateful I am, that you were brave enough to give my cruel fantasy a face. I know, that my dark thoughts can be overwhelming, especially for someone, who’s also struggling with their own mental health. I’m apologizing for the way, I’m pouring out my grief and despair over your marvelous artwork. But you’re the only artist, who’s capable of getting a grasp on my emotions and transforming them into something so powerful, so delightful like your art. Thank you for everything, my dear. 🫂🫂 (Fly fly)

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[connieluvsr]

ONE OF THE GIRLS | part 3

pairing: (electric) guitarist!jungkook x singer!reader(f)

genre: band au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

summary: when your main guitarist gets sick and can't perform at your show, you get help from someone unexpected.

warnings: swearing and some making out, hot jk:)), drinking, mention of drugs, smoking, slight smut, angst, reader is complicated.

word count: 6.9k

a/n: FINALLY after 2 months of not posting. i swear i want too many things to happen in this series but still didn’t know what to write. im so sorry for you waiting that long, please enjoy this chapter!

__________

"Woo! Amazing!" Avery's claps echoed through the room as she leaped onto the plush leather couch, sending vibrations that jolted Zac into a celebratory dance.

The much-anticipated day of the show was drawing near, and we had been tirelessly rehearsing. Despite everyone's praises, I felt there was always room for improvement.

"I'm utterly drained. Let's call it a day," I declared, collapsing onto the couch next to Avery and Zac.

"Are you sure? You practically begged me for extra rehearsal hours," Jungkook teased, concern etched on his face.

"My throat feels like it's on fire, and my head is pounding," I confessed, my voice hoarse and tired.

Avery gently rubbed my back, suggesting, "Take some Strepsils; you'll be fine."

Zac stood up, nodding in agreement. "Should we head out?"

"Yeah, let's go," Avery chimed in, following Zac toward the door. "Bye, guys!"

As they left, we waved our goodbyes, and I closed my eyes, sinking back into the couch. Suddenly, I felt Jungkook's presence beside me.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, why?" I replied, meeting his gaze with weary eyes that threatened to shut at any moment.

He sighed, clearly sensing something was amiss. "I feel like you're not telling me something."

"Do I have to spill every detail of my life to you?" I snapped, my exhaustion making me unusually irritable.

He looked taken aback, his confusion evident. "No, I didn't mean—" Before he could finish his sentence, he stops. He looks at me with such sad eyes. "Get some sleep. Talk to me when your eyes aren't threatening to close on their own," he retorted, his words sharper than intended. He hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to say something more, but eventually, he stood up and silently closed the door behind him. I let out a heavy sigh and covered my eyes with my palms, hoping to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

He knew you’re not being yourself, you kept the distance a lot more these days since what happend with Ander, everyone noticed, including Avery, who wanted to hang out but you politely declined everytime with another made-up excuse. You don’t want to sing — you mean you can’t sing with someone else, It’s not … what you’re used with. You hate new, you want the ordinary, the basic you’ve been doing.

Jungkook’s an amazing singer, you know it and he knows it too, but everytime you step into the practice room, a knot tightened in my stomach, you know how much he wants to help you and you know how much you need him, so you let him, but deep down you think about Ander and how quick he left and you’ve got someone else.

His voice resonated with passion and talent, filling the room with melodies that should have comforted me. Instead, they only intensified my insecurity. I compared every note he sang to the echoes of Ander’s notes, the memory of our duets haunting me like a ghost.

Did Ander try to contact you? Well His messages were filled with empty apologies, excuses that felt like salt on my wounds. I blocked him on all platforms, so he sent pointless emails.

The clock says 04:55, I found myself tossing and turning in bed, unable to shake off the tension from earlier. Unable to bear the suffocating feeling inside, I quietly slipped out of my room, barely seeing anything, I put on one of my hoodies and leave the house in the hushed darkness of the night.

The cool night air brushed against my skin as I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my mind. The city was silent, so, so, silent.

It was cold outside, I was in some Hello Kitty PJ’s and a hoodie that barely makes me warm, but I keep walking until I don’t feel the cold anymore.

The sun will rise in about half an hour now.

You wanna wait for it, making sure you’ll see it clearly, you go to the park that’s some miles away.

Suddenly, a cute dog start following you, you crouch down to him to pet him and he start licking you, gross but cute. “Come!” You smile and lead him to a small bench.

“Brianna?”

You turn your head, pulling the hood of the hoodie off to see better and you can’t belive who’s here. At this fucking hour.

He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone a mixture of concern and annoyance. He approaches me. “I knew I heard your voice. I thought- I thought I was crazy for a sec.” He looks up and down on me like he’s seen a ghost I wonder if I look okay, I didn’t bother to look in the mirror.

"I needed some fresh air," I replied, my voice cold, mirroring the chill in the night, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"Well, you should have stayed at home," he snapped back, his frustration apparent. "You can't just walk around in the middle of the night alone."

"I can do whatever I want," I shot back, my temper flaring, looking up at him. “I don't need you to tell me what to do." My attention goes back to the dog as he bites my finger in a playful way. Jungkook just stares at it looking down on me.

“Brianna, I want to understand-“

In the midst of our vulnerable embrace, a sudden surge of frustration and anger overwhelmed me. You get up, he takes 2 steps back. “You think you can just swoop in and fix everything?" I snapped, pushing Jungkook away. "You don't know what I've been through. You don't understand."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his own temper flaring. "Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I hate seeing you like this, shutting everyone out, including me." He points to himself and talks in an exhausted way.

I scoffed bitterly, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "And what? You think you can change that? You think your concern will magically solve all my problems?"

He clenched his fists, his jaw set in determination. "No, I don't think it will magically solve everything. But at least you won't have to face it alone. We're friends, aren't we? Friends support each other."

"Friends?" I scoffed again, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Friends wouldn't fight all the time. Friends wouldn't constantly push each other's buttons."

Jungkook's expression softened, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Maybe we're more than just friends," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Maybe I care about you more than I'm willing to admit."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that my anger had overshadowed his genuine concern. "I don't know what I want," I confessed, my voice breaking. "I'm scared of messing things up, of losing the people I care about. Again.”

Jungkook stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he said softly. "Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what. We can figure it out together."

In that moment, the fight within me crumbled, replaced by a flood of emotions. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of my fears lifting, if only a little. Jungkook pulled me into a comforting hug, and for the first time that night, I felt a glimmer of hope.

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the night around us slowly coming to life. In that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to face everything alone. Perhaps, with Jungkook by my side, I could find the strength to confront my fears and conquer the challenges ahead.

As we stood there, embracing each other under the moonlit sky, I felt a sense of warmth and security wash over me. It was as if Jungkook's presence had cast away the shadows that had clouded my thoughts. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his hands cupping my face again as he looked into my eyes with sincerity. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice soft but resolute. "We're in this together, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I nodded, feeling a newfound sense of resolve. "Yeah, together," I echoed, realizing that I wasn't alone in my struggles anymore.

We continued our walk, no longer in silence but with a comfortable ease between us. We talked about our fears, dreams, and everything in between. With each word, the connection between us deepened, and I found solace in sharing my thoughts with someone who truly understood.

As the night turned into dawn, we returned home. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold, signaling a new day and a fresh start.

He walked me home but before he could leave I stop him. “What were you doing alone at that hour? you didn’t tell me.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment before he starts “Thinking.”

“About?” You ask couriously.

“You.”

Before you could try to make him explain what the fuck was that he left.

“Rehearsal today at 4 ok?” he shots from the street.

You giggle and give him a thumbs up.

What the hell did just happen.

______

"You know, I think they make a great couple," Avery mused, her voice laced with a sense of certainty. She reached out, deftly taking the blunt from Zac's hand, her fingers brushing against his in a fleeting touch. Zac's gaze followed the movement, his expression a mix of annoyance and intrigue.

"Hm?" Zac responded, his curiosity piqued as he took in the mention of Jungkook and Bri.

Avery settled into his lap, the weight of her presence grounding him in the moment. She exhaled a puff of smoke, blowing it up. "Jungkook and Bri, don’t ya think?" Avery's words hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of mari*uana. Zac's eyes flicked towards Bri's image in his mind, then back to Avery. He hesitated, the smoke clouding his thoughts momentarily.

"Um, yeah, sure, but they don’t seem like they like each other or shit," Zac replied, his voice a low murmur as he tried to make sense of the situation. Avery's eyes met his, a playful glint dancing in them as she inched closer. Before she could take another puff, Zac leaned in, capturing her lips in a pressed kiss.

"I think they really like each other," Avery murmured against his lips, her words muffled yet sincere. Her fingers traced a thoughtful path along his jawline, her touch a gentle caress that seemed to ease the tension in his muscles. "I know Bri is afraid, I just know it, but JK? What would he be afraid of?" She furrowed her brows, deep in contemplation.

"Afraid of moving too fast and lose her?" Zac suggested, his voice barely audible, his thoughts unraveling like the tendrils of smoke surrounding them. He shrugged, the uncertainty evident in his gaze.

"God, you're really smart," Avery whispered, her lips brushing against his cheek in a tender peck. With a soft sigh, she slid off his lap, the absence of her warmth leaving a lingering sensation. Rising from the couch, she reached for her phone, her fingers gliding across the screen as she dialed a number.

____

Avery's eyes widened in disbelief, her excitement palpable as I recounted the bizarre events of the previous night, or was it technically today?

"I can't believe it! No way, you did what?" Avery exclaimed, her voice echoing with a mix of shock and exhilaration.

The weight of the situation pressed down on me, making my palms clammy as I buried my face in them. "I don't know, I feel so weird right now," I confessed, my words muffled against my hands. "I have a rehearsal with him in an hour."

Avery's eyes glinted with determination as she seized upon the moment, her excitement bubbling over. "You gotta ask him what was that!" she urged, her words rapid, punctuated by animated gestures. She jumped up and down on the sofa, the energy radiating from her contagious enthusiasm.

"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice barely audible as I grappled with the overwhelming vulnerability that threatened to consume me. "I'm scared to let someone into a place so important in my life again. Music means everything to me. I… I can't. I feel like I'm betraying someone."

Avery's eyes blazed with fiery determination, her frustration palpable as she unleashed her pent-up emotions. "Gosh, you're not betraying Ander! That fucker literally could've made you lose your show!"

I shook my head, my thoughts racing. "I'm… I'm not talking about him," I confessed, my voice quivering. "I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I let him in too much. What if I lose him too? What if, on the day of the show, he'll say he won't come? What if—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Avery's hands shot out, shaking me and pinching me sharply. "Ouch!" I yelped, wincing from the sudden pain.

"You're like a crazy person talking right now," Avery retorted, her frustration palpable. She glared at me, her eyes fierce with determination. In a moment of impulse, I grabbed my phone and dialed Jungkook's number, my fingers trembling as I pressed the call button.

"Hi, it's me," I said, my voice catching in my throat. "Yeah, don't come today... No, don't. Bye."

Avery's jaw dropped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What the hell was that, why?!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over. She pulled at her hair in exasperation, her voice tinged with desperation. "You're not thinking straight!! The show is in 3 days! Come on! Once this is over, you'll find someone else if you're so scared of falling for him."

"Falling? What do... You think I love him?" I stammered, my words trailing off as I tried to make sense of my own feelings.

"You definitely love each other," Avery stated matter-of-factly, her tone unwavering. "You're both two dumb fuckers. Call him to come to rehearsals, for god's sake, I'm out."

"W-wait, Avery!" I shouted, but she was already gone, her footsteps fading into the distance.

"Fuck, it even started raining!" she screamed from the porch, her words carried away by the wind as she drove away.

I sigh in frustration as I collapse onto the plush couch, my weary eyes scanning the ominous clouds looming outside the window. With a heavy heart, I receive a notification alert on my phone, urging me to stay indoors due to an impending danger and an imminent rainstorm. The familiar sense of dread washes over me, and I can't help but mutter a resigned exclamation under my breath, "God... not again."

I pull the notification bar down, revealing a series of alerts detailing the severity of the situation. Flash flood warnings, gusty winds, and potential power outages are mentioned, intensifying my sense of unease. With a deep breath, I rise from the couch, my footsteps heavy as I move towards the window to get a better view of the darkening sky.

The atmosphere outside grows ominous, the clouds swirling in a chaotic dance, painting the sky with shades of deep gray. The wind starts to howl, rattling the windows as if nature itself is echoing my inner turmoil. I glance around the room, contemplating my options. The dimming light emphasizes the urgency of the situation, urging me to make a decision.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I quickly assess the supplies in my home – candles, emergency rations, and a flashlight. I grab them, creating a makeshift emergency kit, hoping it will be enough to tide me over if the storm takes a turn for the worse. As I secure the windows and doors, I can't shake off the feeling of vulnerability, a reminder of the unpredictable nature of life.

I return to the couch, clutching the emergency kit tightly, and stare out of the window once more. Raindrops splatter against the glass, blurring the world into a surreal painting of water and shadows.

I make myself some hot coco and before the power is out, which will probably be by the night, I turn on the TV to watch Brooklyn 99 and put a nice comfy blanket.

My heart pounds in my chest, the echoes of the thunderstorm still reverberating through the air as I try to calm my racing thoughts. The glow from the TV screen illuminates the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Just as I start to regain a semblance of composure, the knocks on the door pierce the silence like a gunshot. I jump, my breath catching in my throat, and I shoot a fearful glance towards the entrance, my mind racing with possibilities.

"Fuck..." I mutter under my breath, hesitating before the door. I entertain the fleeting hope that whoever it is might just go away, but my hopes are dashed when another round of four loud knocks reverberates through the house, each one intensifying my anxiety. The situation feels surreal, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil within me.

My hands tremble as I reach for the doorknob, my heart pounding in my ears. Then, amidst the chaos of the storm, a familiar shout cuts through the air, calling my name. "BRI. IT’S ME… OPEN." The sound of his voice sends a mixture of relief and concern washing over me. Without a second thought, I throw the door open, my eyes widening in surprise at the sight before me.

There stands Jungkook, drenched from head to toe, his clothes clinging to him like a second skin. I try to push away the distracting thoughts about his perfect abs and body, focusing on the immediate concern. "Get in the house; you're shivering," I say urgently, my hand reaching out to pull him inside. His shivering intensifies, and I can't help but worry about his well-being.

"Fuck—let me get—"

"Bri."

"Let me get towels and clothes and—"

"Bri." He stops me, his eyes locking onto mine with a depth of concern that sends a shiver down my spine.

"I—" I start to protest, but his worry silences me. I nod, my determination to help him overpowering any embarrassment. "Let me grab you something. Please. I don't want you to be sick." I manage to tear my gaze away from his intense eyes and hurriedly make my way towards the closet, pretending not to notice his actions as he starts to undress behind me, though my cheeks burn with an undeniable awareness.

As I fumble through my closet, my hands search for something that might fit Jungkook. Finally, I pull out an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweats that used to be snug on me when I was a bit chubbier. I hold my breath, hoping against hope that they'll fit him. I mutter a silent prayer under my breath, my fingers crossed as I bring the clothes to him.

"Here," I say, my voice a little shaky, trying my best not to meet his gaze directly, feeling the weight of his presence in the room.

"Thanks," he replies, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and amusement as he accepts the towel and the clothes. After he dries himself, he starts to dress, and a soft laugh escapes his lips. "They're a bit... tight."

"I—yeah, I don't have anything else—" I stammer, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. My eyes dart away, not wanting to acknowledge the situation, even though his laughter is contagious.

"Bri," he says, his tone serious now, his laughter fading away. "I can't believe you told me I shouldn't come... I wanted to speak to you in person.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I struggle to find the right words, my emotions in turmoil. "Jungkook... look, it's—" I start, my voice cracking with a mix of vulnerability and affection, wanting desperately to express what I feel but not sure how to articulate it.

"It's complicated," I finally manage to say, my voice barely audible over the distant rumble of thunder. I glance up, meeting Jungkook's eyes, searching for understanding. "I've been through so much, and I'm afraid... afraid of getting hurt again."

Jungkook's expression softens, his eyes reflecting empathy and sincerity. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. "Bri, I understand. I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to try if you are. We can face the challenges together."

His words hang in the air, a silent promise that sparks a glimmer of hope within me. I find myself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort he offers. The storm outside mirrors the turbulence within my heart, but in this moment, Jungkook's presence provides a sense of calm amidst the chaos. “I thought we talked about this this morning. You were so committed-“

"I... I don't know. But all i know is i don’t want to lose you." I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes locked onto his. The vulnerability in his gaze resonates with my own fears and insecurities, creating a connection that goes beyond words.

He leans closer, and closer, and closer,

before I know, his lips meet me in a moment of sweet surrender, Jungkook's touch is gentle yet firm as he cups my face, his fingers warm against my skin. I close my eyes, savoring the softness of his lips, the taste of him like a bittersweet melody. His kiss is tender, a silent promise of affection and understanding.

A rush of emotions floods over me—desire, vulnerability, and a profound sense of connection. The air crackles with electricity, the charged atmosphere intensifying the intimacy of the moment. My fingers find their way into his soft hair, tangling in the strands as I pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

Jungkook responds with a soft sigh, his lips parting slightly, inviting me in. Our tongues meet in a slow, sensual dance, exploring each other with a hunger that transcends words. The kiss deepens, becoming a passionate exchange of emotions and desires, a silent conversation that speaks volumes.

I can feel the steady beat of Jungkook's heart against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own pulse. The world outside may be in chaos, but in this moment, there is only us—two souls intertwined in a kiss that feels like coming home. Time seems to stretch, the kiss becoming an eternity, a stolen moment of bliss that leaves us both breathless and wanting more.

When we finally pull away, our breaths mingling in the air.

In the dimness that followed the abrupt power outage, Jungkook's voice cut through the sudden silence, his words trailing off in the darkness. "I'm sorry if-" he began, but the sentence hung in the air, abruptly interrupted by the blackout.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips as I fumbled in the dark, desperately searching for my phone. "Fuck," I muttered, realizing the futility of the attempt.

“Bri, where are you?" Jungkook called out, his voice tense in the darkness.

My hands reached out, seeking his in the pitch-black void. "I'm looking for my phone. It should be here somewhere," I explained, patting the couch in vain.

"Can you give me your phone?" I asked, hoping for a glimmer of light to guide us through the oppressive darkness.

"I forgot it at home," he admitted with a nonchalant shrug, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. "I rushed here! It's your fault!" he defended himself.

"How could you just leave without it?" I questioned, genuine disbelief coloring my tone. The realization that we were stranded without any source of light intensified the surreal nature of the situation. A deafening thunderclap reverberated through the house, adding an extra layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. "Fuck, that was a big one," I remarked, my nerves on edge.

Finally, Jungkook's hands found mine, and he grasped my hand firmly, ensuring we moved in the same direction. The house enveloped us in impenetrable darkness, and my thoughts raced, thinking how we just kissed but we act like nothing happend.

Breaking the uneasy silence, I suggested, "My iPad is in my room. Let's get there to have some light."

"Don't you have flashlights?" Jungkook inquired, his grip on my hand tightening, revealing a touch of vulnerability.

"I took them out about an hour ago, but I have no idea where I put them," I admitted with a sigh, frustration lacing my words.

"Damn, Bri," Jungkook sighed, a subtle chuckle escaping him.

"Hey, you left your phone at home," I retorted, a laugh bubbling up in response to the irony of our predicament.

“Lead the way then,” Jungkook sighed, and we navigated cautiously through the darkness, the air thick with tension. Suddenly, a soft bump resonated through the space, and I winced. “Be careful,” he urged, his hands now assisting me in ascending the stairs.

Reaching the second floor, I extended my arms, feeling for familiar surroundings. The second floor has my room, a guest bathroom, my parent’s room and a guest room. Mine is right next to the stairs.

"Here," I announced, finding my bedroom door. Inside, my fingers fumbled on the nightstand, searching for my iPad. "Damn it, I forgot to charge it. It only has 10%," I exclaimed in frustration. When I looked up, Jungkook's big doe eyes met mine, and I felt a strange warmth despite the chilly darkness.

"I can't believe it," he mumbled, plopping on the bed and reaching for the iPad to illuminate the room.

"I don't really use it," I defended myself.

"Good excuse," he teased, scanning the room with the makeshift light. His attention shifted to a framed photo on my dresser. "That's you?" he asked, pointing to a picture with me and Avery.

I nodded, picking up the photo. "Yeah, next to me is Avery."

He wore an impressed expression. "You sure had a glow-up. How old is this?"

"Like five years ago?" I guessed, placing the photo back on the nightstand.

"And you're..." I realized I hadn't shared my age.

"20," I quickly added, feeling a sudden twinge of self-consciousness.

"Aw, you were just 15," he smiled, studying my face.

"Yeah, and ugly and dumb," I self-deprecated.

"Hey! Don't say that! Now you're just not ugly," he teased, his characteristic smirk on full display.

"What the hell?" I playfully pushed him, and he burst into laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he reassured, still chuckling.

"Sure," I sighed, opening the wardrobe to grab a hoodie. The room seemed to grow colder, prompting me to put it on.

"You cold?" He asked, looking over at me.

"A bit," I admitted, biting my lip.

“Damn.” Jungkook muttered, his gaze lingering on me as I pulled the hoodie over my head. The dim light from the iPad cast subtle shadows on his face, emphasizing the uncertainty in his expression.

I caught the hint of something unspoken in the air, prompting me to break the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I sit next to him now laying down, covering myself in the blanket.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just thinking about how crazy tonight has been. I mean, I came here on a storm, we went from a blackout to searching for an iPad in the dark.”

I chuckled, the tension easing a bit. “Yeah, it’s been quite the adventure.”

He lays down next to me.

His eyes met mine, a flicker of something more intense passing between us. “And there’s that,” he added, his voice softer now.

“What do you mean?” I inquired, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Moving myself completely to face him.

“You know,” he started, choosing his words carefully. “The kiss. It happened, and now we’re here in the dark, and it’s like it never did.”

I felt my cheeks warm, the memory of our unexpected kiss replaying in my mind. “Yeah, about that,” I began, unsure where the conversation would lead.

He cut me off with a gentle smile. “I’m not complaining. Just trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Do you wan-“ He cuts me off.

.“I don’t know. Do you want to play 20 Questions or something to pass the time.” He seems very agitated.

“Sure, why not?” I agreed, eager to divert our thoughts. I try to not show how i really feel about just getting over the kiss subject.

“Okay, first question: Where did you grow up?”

His expression shifted momentarily, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. “Seoul,” he replied vaguely, not offering more details. “You?” He asks curiously.

“Brooklyn.” I sensed his reluctance to delve into the topic, so I changed course. “My parents actually moved to another state a while ago. It’s been strange not having them around.”

Jungkook looked genuinely interested. “Really? Why’d they move?”

“Work,” I explained. “They found better opportunities, and I guess they wanted a change of scenery. It’s just me here now.”

His eyes softened with understanding, and I could tell he wanted to ask more.

Instead, I diverted the conversation to his parents.

“And your folks? What about them?”

I noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor, a guardedness that hadn’t been there before

“They’re around,” he replied vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

I sensed his reluctance and decided not to press further. “Fair enough.

“I’ve been wondering about Ander- If you wanna talk about it. Like how’d you two met and how did you start a freaking band?” He asks, his eyes searching for mine.

“Ander’s been my friend since high school. We both had this crazy obsession with old music, and we bonded over that,” she began, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips. “He initiated that we should make a ‘band,’ and I’d be the lead singer while he’d be the guitarist. He was really talented, playing all day in school, driving teachers crazy. He’s still good, but, you know, people change who they are, not their capabilities.”

Jungkook, his eyes reflecting genuine interest, listened carefully to her story. Brianna, embracing the newfound openness between them, decided to steer the conversation toward Jungkook’s passions.

“Let’s get over that topic,” she chuckled, nudging him playfully. “Tell me, aside from music, what are your other passions or hobbies?”

Jungkook, a plushie of a cat in hand, smiled as he confessed, “Well, I’m into photography.”

“Really?” Brianna’s curiosity sparked, and she straightened on the bed.

“Yeah, I like capturing moments, you know? I’d love to take pictures of you one day,” he said, his smile accompanied by a playful wink.

“If I let you,” she replied, giggling. “Have you ever traveled outside of the US?”

“Yeah, um, I went to almost every country in europe with my family, we stayed like 2 days in each for the summer break when i was in 11th grade. I loved Santorini.”

“Wow. Impressive. So you’re rich rich.” she elbows him. Actually, she was so much impressed than she showed him.

“My parents are, yeah, not me.” He corrects, modesty in his tone.

“Yeah but-“ I got cut off by him again.“You? Have you traveled?”

“Only in some states where i have my aunts or uncles.” I pout and get jealous of how much he’s seen.

“If you could change one decision from your past, what would it be and why?” I ask.

Jungkook paused, then confessed, “I think there’s a part of me that wishes I had pursued music more passionately from the beginning. I held back a bit out of fear.”

I remain silent as I take the cat from

his hand.

“What’s your biggest dream, Brianna?” Jungkook now looks at the cat but his eyes shift to mine, looking for truth.

“To make people feel connected to my music, to make people feel happy, feel sad, party to it, cry to it, to have thousands of people coming to watch me sing for them.”

“Well i’ll tell you a secret, i’m from the future and what you said it’s gonna happen.”

“Come on.” I laugh and punch his arm lightly. “Ok now me again.” I pause and think. “If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?”

“Such a “What to ask on a first date” from Wikihow or Buzz Feed kind of stuff question.”

“Fuck off!” they laughed, playful shoves exchanged. “Tell me!” I keep pushing him.

“Ok ok, Elvis Presley. I absolutely adore that man’s music.”

I nod, trying to find someone I’d go to dinner with. “I’d go with Freddy Mercury”

He looks at the ipad that now has

1% “Good choice. Hey, this is about to die.”

“We also don’t have internet connection or signal to see when we’ll get the power back.”

I sigh. Does that mean he’s gonna spend the night? I question myself.

“So lucky of us.” I sigh and look at him

again.

“Yeah.” he shrugs and when the Ipad finally ends it life, we stay in the darkness.

"I'm so bored," Jungkook announces, his voice echoing the monotony of the dark room.

"What's your body count?" I blurt out, surprising even myself with the sudden boldness.

"Damn, straight forward, huh?" he giggles, the dimness concealing the sly grin on his face. "I don't know, I don't count them."

"Approximately. Like you gotta know," I insist, pushing for a hint of revelation.

"I really don't know. You tell me," he challenges, turning the tables on me.

"I'm not telling you," I assert, maintaining a semblance of mystery.

"Why should I then?" he counters, his playful defiance hanging in the air.

"Fair," I sigh, but just as the silence begins to settle, Jungkook decides to unravel a bit of his own mystery. "It's around 15."

Leaning in, I tease, "Oh, I expected much more."

"Do I look like such a fuckboy? Don't answer that," he injects, his tone suddenly serious, only to be met with an eruption of laughter from me. He continues: "Even 15 is much. I wish it was like 2 or 3."

"Yeah, it may not be the best number, but still better than a lot of guys. Mine is 2," I confesses, revealing a surprising layer of vulnerability.

"Boyfriends?" He inquires, sensing there might be more to this story.

"Myeah," I acknowledge with a casual nod.

"I see. Have you ever… had anything with Ander?" Jungkook probes, curious about the dynamics between us.

"Hell no," I asserts "Well, he tried many times, but I friendzoned him until he got over and started liking other girls. He also tried to kiss me but nothing more. If he tried anything else… well, let's just say I'd be singing alone all the time."

"I see," He respond, the room now buzzing with a different energy, laughter and revelations dancing in the dimness. He stays silent a bit before continues in a low voice: “Do you have kinks?”

My hand trembled slightly as I took a sip of water, trying to mask my surprise at Jungkook's unexpected turn in the conversation. His chuckle cut through the awkwardness like a lifeline, and he leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"If you're going to ask me such a personal question, it's only fair I get to ask you one in return," he declared, raising an eyebrow as if challenging me.

"Only if you spill first," I countered, unwilling to let him off the hook.

"I asked first," he retorted, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't care," I shot back, determination in my tone.

"Me neither," he sighed, his gaze holding mine in a playful standoff. The room fell into a sudden, uncomfortable silence, amplifying the sound of tree branches scraping against the house and the howling wind outside. It was still dark.

"When the iPad died, it was around 10 pm," I mumbled, my attempt to bridge the gap with a practical detail.

A wry smile played on Jungkook's lips, his eyes holding a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And now? Any guesses?"

I shook my head, realizing the absurdity of trying to estimate time in the pitch-black darkness. "No idea. Feels like we've been here forever."

He chuckled, a sound that carried a subtle reassurance. "Time flies, especially when you're in the dark with someone interesting."

A playful smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I navigated the intriguing twists of our conversation. "So you think I'm interesting," I remarked, my smile lingering even though he couldn't see it.

He responded with a sly challenge, delving into a more personal territory. "I might think that if you tell me if you have kinks. I really think everyone does. I was thinking about it some time ago, discovered mine recently."

A mischievous idea crossed my mind. "If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"I don't want to; I asked first."

"And I don't care you asked first."

"Fuck, Brianna, what do I gotta do to make you say it?" he sighed, frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the pillow.

"Are you really that curious?" I teased, the dim room masking the playful glint in my eyes.

"Fuck yeah, now I am!" he exclaimed.

I pat his arm until I feel his hand, it was big, if you might add, and veiny, full of tattoos, even tho i couldnt see them, i knew they were there.

"You have a... hand kink?" He inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, if that's how you call it, then yes."

I confess.

"What exactly do you like about hands?" He now sounds serious and curious, like he really wants to know.

"They're hot. I just... they're hot," I admitted, and as his gaze met mine, I found myself captivated by the intensity in his eyes.

"Do you think mine are?" he whispered, a vulnerability underlying the question.

"Well, I do," I replied, almost hesitating. His hand found my waist, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through me.

"What do you like, Jungkook?" I asked, the air between us charged with anticipation.

"Hmm, everything, especially you."

“W-what.” I whisper as he gets on top of me. I feel our bodies lean closer together, the heat between us rising with each breath. I run my fingers through Jungkook's hair, caressing his neck and tracing his shoulders. I draw him closer, his lips just moments away from meeting mine. Our lips finally meet, the passion finally released, our tongues mingling in an intimate dance. His hand squeezes mine, the other hand running down my body to my waist. I draw him closer, our bodies tangled intimately. I feel like I’m kissing him for the first time, even if I’m not.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into my eyes, both of us breathless. "Is this okay?" he asked, seeking affirmation for more than just the kiss.

"It's more than okay," I assured him.

"I really like you, Bri," he confessed, his hand gently caressing my face.

"I like you too," I finally admitted, and before he could say anything else, I pulled him into another deep kiss. Fingers entwined in his soft, fragrant hair, our connection deepening with each passing moment.

Suddenly, when everything was almost too perfect, we hear a loud beep, tv starts playing downstairs, the room now being all bright again, outside you couldn’t hear anything anymore. the storm has stopped. lucky us.

My heart raced as I pushed him away, the sudden intensity leaving an awkward tension in the room. "Now that's cringe," I mumbled, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Really?," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. He reached for my face, planting a small, lingering kiss on my swollen lips. Laughter escaped him, and confusion etched my features.

"W-what? Why are you laughing?" I stammered, feeling a surge of insecurity.

"Your cheeks, and nose, and forehead—you're blushing so hard," he chuckled. Before I could protest, he gently pushed me back onto the pillow, peppering my face with soft pecks.

"H-Hey!" I managed to utter between giggles, his kisses playfully tickling every inch of my blushing face. He finally stopped, getting up with a mischievous smile.

"Let's go downstairs," he suggested. I gathered myself, taking off my hoodie, revealing a simple tank top and sweatpants. As I left the room, the familiar sounds of a Brooklyn 99 episode echoed through the house. Retrieving my phone, I noticed a slew of messages and the late hour, now reaching 10 o'clock.

"It's late. I think I'll just leave now. When should I come for rehearsals? Also… I'll bring your clothes tomorrow," Jungkook said.

"No problem, maybe, uhh… like 1 pm?" I suggested, my newfound awkwardness betraying the earlier intensity.

"Right. I'll be there," he agreed. Cupping my face, he planted a final soft kiss on my lips. "Take care."

"You too," I replied, closing the door behind him. The weight of the moment lingered, and I couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. Oh my god.

———

[george-weasleys-girl]

Hello sweets

Can I get a George Weasley x tall reader (I'm 5'10) like it's sad I won't have to ask my boyfriend to get stuff for me like all these girls in the fic because I just can get it myself

Have a nice day ahead

This story was, in part, inspired by this scene from the movie Big Fish.

You were so focused on cooking that you didn't hear George sneak up behind you until he wrapped one arm around your waist and used the other to grab the bottle of olive oil from the top shelf that you could more than easily reach.

"You know I can it get myself," you teased.

George shrugged. "I know, but it always makes you smile. And I love when you smile," he said as he began to nibble on your ear. "Besides, it's also a great way to get you all hot and bothered."

You rolled your eyes but still leaned into his soft kisses that were now trailing down your neck. "Georgie, our dinner guests will be here any minute," you reminded him.

"No fair. You never let me any fun," he whined, just before he blew a raspberry on your cheek, making you scream.

~•~

Tonight was important. You were having several entrepreneurs over to dinner to discuss the possibility of expanding Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes stores to other countries.

But before business, there was always small talk. And if there was ever an opportunity for George to tell the story of how the two of you met, he was going to take it. You knew tonight would be no different. Even Fred, who used to roll his eyes every time his twin would tell the story, now encouraged him because no matter how curmudgeon or cynical the listener might be, the tale always managed to charm them. It was a great way to break the ice with potential business partners and new clients.

"I swear, if my wife wasn't so tall, we would've never met," George began. "The first time I saw her was at this house party that was being thrown by a friend of Fred's girlfriend. There had to be at least 200 people packed into this house that was about the size of this table," he motioned to the dining room table around which the eight of them sat. "You could barely move without elbowing somebody. So I'd stepped outside to get some fresh air and was standing on the deck, a beer in hand, marveling at how even outside people still melded together into one giant amorphous blob. And that's when I saw her gliding through the crowd, standing head and shoulders above almost everyone else. The whole world came screeching to a halt around us. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was the most beautiful, exquisite, and statuesque woman I'd ever laid eyes on," George took Y/N's hand and kissed it, drawing dreamy sighs from the three other women and at least one of the men at the table.

"I watched her as she made her way toward the deck where I was standing," George continued. "I was so completely mesmerized that instead of approaching her, I just stood there like a dork with my mouth hanging open. It was only when she disappeared inside that the spell broke, and I realized I'd just let her walk on by, without so much as a hello."

"You didn't see him?" One of the women asked you.

"No," you shook your head. "I was too busy trying to get through the crowd."

"So what happened?"

"Well," George said, leaning forward. "I learned something very important about my wife that night. She's fast. Damned fast," he paused to take a sip of wine. "I'm not used to that. Most people have trouble keeping up with me because of my long legs. But her legs are almost as long as mine and far more graceful," he said, grinning at you. "She just moves effortlessly through crowds while I'm tripping around, trying to push my way through. By the time I got inside, she was already halfway through the house. And by the time I made it to the front porch, she was already getting into a car and riding off into the night."

"Wait? You didn't actually meet that night?" Another of their guests asked.

"Nope," George replied. "And other than a first name, no one seemed to know anything about her. Turned out she was a friend of a friend of a friend."

"So... when did you actually meet?"

"Three weeks later," Fred chimed in. "During the back to school rush on Diagon Alley. And thank Godric he did. He'd been moping about all over the place."

A round of chuckles broke out around the table, and a light blush briefly appeared on George's face. You were tempted to reach around your husband and slap Fred in the back of his cocky head. You could've easily done so, but refrained because it would've been unprofessional and would've embarrassed poor George even more.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, George cleared his throat and continued, "The day before school starts back is one of our busiest. From the moment we open to the moment we close, it's nonstop chaos. I was exhausted and was getting ready to take my much needed afternoon break when I saw Y/N's face floating above the crowd."

"You really weren't lying when you said her height was the reason you met," one of the guests commented.

"Nope," George replied, taking another sip of wine.

"I take it you didn't get your break?"

George shook his head. "I spent the next hour helping Y/N and her little sister, who was starting her first year at Hogwarts, find everything she could possibly need to start the year off right."

"And then what?"

"Then," George answered. "I asked Y/N out to dinner. And of course she said yes. The rest, as they say, is history."

~•~

The moon was high in the sky when dinner finally wrapped up with both new deals and new friends made. You'd stepped outside to enjoy the warm summer evening while George and Fred finished up some paperwork.

You were too wrapped up stargazing to hear George tiptoe up behind you until he wrapped both his arms around your waist. "Nice night for an evening, yeah?"

Snorting at his usual off-the-wall humor, you turned, wrapping your arms around his neck. He melted into your embrace. "I adore that those lovely, long arms of yours just wrap completely around me in this perfect, warm hug. I could disappear into your arms every time," he mummered as he began trailing kisses down your jaw.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @imshiningjustforyou @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz

[kimberbohwrites]

How would Rolan react to his person finally confessing they are a foundling/adoted and that's why they've been dodging answering questions about their family as it's a complicated mess to explain unless you make a string board. His person feels awful for hiding it from him until this point.

Hey anon, I have opened and tried to answer this at least a dozen times and I’m not doing a great job. In reality I’m married to an adoptee and I can’t seem to write this without my mind slipping back to my own spouse and their experience.

So I’m going to keep this really short and sweet so I can answer for Rolan and not myself. (And thanks for your ask!):

- I think Rolan would initially be a little hurt by the dodged questions and secrecy, but once he understood why I think it would fade almost instantaneously.

-He’s got his own share of family issues and he won’t pry if he can tell it’s too painful to discuss.

-I think he’d sit with them, his tail coiled around their leg to keep them close as his person shared what they could with him.

-Rolan doesn’t strike me as someone who handles crying well and when his person breaks down in tears over everything he would panic for a split second. Then he’d draw them up close to cry on to him, nuzzling them close and giving them a forehead kiss.

-Finally, he would cheer them up by telling them a funny story from his childhood, one he’d never shared before. It’s a happy memory, a prank between siblings gone awry that ended in a small (harmless, he swears) fire in a barn in Elturel. They drift off while cuddling, after sharing a few happy memories in all the sadness they’d both experienced.

[journey-to-the-attic]

hello!!

i just finished reading chapter 50 of jtta and oh my gosh. i don’t even know where to start.

jtta is SUCH an amazing work of art that my words fall short.. it’s rlly the best fanfiction i have EVER read and i’m sure it’ll continue to be my Number One forever. your writing style is absolutely beautiful and your choice of words is IMMACULATE. the way you describe certain scenes truly baffles me everytime like,, there’s people out there who are really able to write like this?? they can magically plant a mental imagine w colors and all in my head from??? Words only??? u r so amazing omf

i also have to say that ur work has rlly helped me with expanding my own vocabulary — i had to look up a A LOT of words (though i’m sure i forgot them all by now..) but it was always so fun to learn new stuff!

your mind fascinates me sm bc?? when i was reading some scenes from jtta i rlly thought ‘man.. if i was the author i’d have no idea how to solve this..’ but u managed to surprise me every. single. time. u outdid urself each time and my jaw legit dropped at some scenes bc i could’ve NEVER EVER thought of that,,,

i only discovered jtta last summer bc i was looking for a platonic obey me ff (i can’t see the boys romantically to save my life 😔) and ur writing was rlly the best thing that ever happened to me.

i swear everytime i read another chapter i dived into this World bc ur writing is so????? Perfect??? i cant put it into words

idk how many times i repeated myself by now but i just wanna give u this BIG word of appreciation (even if im struggling w it LOL) for everything. your characterisation of all the characters was always SO on point and the pacing of the chapters always elevated the reading experience and and and i’m just so overwhelmed by the quality of your work 😭🫶

and when i found ur tumblr??? oh i was FLOORED. like. not only r u absolutely GIFTED at writing, ure also good at drawing???11!?1? the writer & illustrator combo is INSANEEEEE

jtta got me all wrapped up in this universe that whenever i went back to read other obey me work or play obey me itself, i got sad bc the newspaper club and ik weren’t there 😭

normally i’m sad about things ending, esp when i indulged in it over a course of time but with jtta all i felt was a warmth (oh and the tears…..) in my body, it rlly couldn’t have ended better!! jtta made me elict all sorts of emotions while reading and it was just such a wonderful experience!

i feel like i just want to say more to u and sing more praises for u and jtta but i’m just at a loss for words,, my mind is COMPLETELY blank :c

writing is definitely your superpower and i’m forever grateful that i found your work!!!!!! T__T <3 can’t wait to see more of your work in the future 🥹💝

i need you to know that i had to look away multiple times consecutively just to compose myself because aAAAggkj

from the bottom of my heart, thank you!! i don't know what else i can say, everything you've said means so much to me! messages like this make everything about creating so worth it, all i can do is thank you twice <33333

[thatonesalmonlingnamedspike]

welcome :D

(images above is not mine, it's an art req by @pokimoko[a cool person :D]!) (i will hold onto these forever tysm dude)

(also AUDHD OCTOLING SQUID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

(tw!!! I swear here(got that American and Scottish in my dumb self), if you don't like it, you should probably go!!! I don't wanna make people sad :<) 🦑 ★ this abt me temp is by @electricalstemplatesᔦꙬᔨ—!! ╰━ Name: Spike ↭ Age: not telling but here's a hint: I cannot drive a car┊🎮 Pronouns: any! she/her is preferred tho!!! ﹅ __gender: Transfem | orient: lesbian__ꕀ🏆 ✮ l [link]() 🔫➜ I (surprisingly)have a gf who likes to be called Eight/Agent 8!!!↯ . . ੭ ⁠くコ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

⁠ C⁠:⁠彡 C⁠:⁠彡 C⁠⁠:⁠彡 C⁠⁠:⁠彡 hello, I'm Spike! you can call me Goldie if you want, too. i go by any pronouns! i have ADHD so i may forget to do things... if i do, remind me! ;-;

cake day: jan 19 :D

a furry/avian/lgbtq+ safe space! (if I ever make you feel uncomfortable, please tell me!!! I don't wanna make you feel that way!!!!)

i am opening art requests again after like 3 months lol i can draw:

pfps

ocs(that aren't complicated)

memes

reaction images

art prompts

please send asks on @askbfdicharactersorocs i wanna draw objects more

BUBBLE BLOG: @thebubblebfb

BH BLOG: @etherealhole

LIY BLOG: @liythefourbiddenexplorer

TWO BLOG: @two-integer

ROOT BEER(my objectsona) BLOG: @transfem-cowgirl-cook-rootbeer

TEA KETTLE BLOG: @caring-kettle-ii

MINECRAFT OC BLOG: @ask-chorus

ANOTHER WORLDBULDING BLOG WITH ANOTHER OBJECTSONA: @spikyhairpick

WEATHERY BLOG: @ask-weathery

FLOWEY BLOG: @floweys-save

BLOG WITH A SPECIES MADE BY A FRIEND: @purple-petals-brightzone

RANDOM LAB CREATED TREE CHILD BLOG: @acorn-askblog

HFJONE MAGAZINE AND STOCKING BLOG CO-MANAGED WITH MY FREIND: @christmazine

ANON OC: @anonice-anonymous

TEXTY BLOG: @hfjone-texty

you can also find me on: Roblox Wattpad Beta.Character.AI Scratch Reddit Twitter/X

here's Root Beer V3!

AND Golden Egg!

about the Salmonling:

ROOT BEER?!?!/!(REAL)(AT 3 AM) :000000000

nicknames:

Spike - yea sure, anybody can call me this Salmonoid - it's salmonling, but they get mixed up often so yea :) Salmonling - sure :) Golden Egg: godamnit 8 I will get you back for that (she kept calling me this when we were at a cafe and due to me having the 'ability' to get embarrased easily of a glass ant with broken legs I was a blushing mess for the rest of the time I was with her--) THING - w h y d o y o u c a l l m e t h i s Person - ok???????? Root Beer - go for it :D Spika - this one's your fault irl fren/silly Pika - other sona's name so ye :D Asteroid - old roblox name, ye :D Asriel/Alphys - my kin so ye :) legal name - big no-no >:( Any other silly little nicknames: go for it!

i'm a young artist trying to build my following on Tumblr! I draw many things, including;

-{memes(sometimes)}- -{CHANGED}- -{Bugsnax}- -{fanart(sometimes)}- -{Battle for BFDI/TPOT}- -{Mysterious Object Super Show}- -{Otherworldy Ravenous Beast}- -{Animated Inanimate Battle}- -{Open Source Objects}- -{Excellent Extraordinary Entities}- -{Beautiful Ultimate Really Never Ending Realm}- -{The Daily Object Show}- -{The Nightly Manor}- -{Inanimate Insanity Invitational}- -{and other object shows!}- -{smaller game characters}- -{splatoon}- -{transfurs}- -{My own OCS}- -{UNDERTALE}- -{Cookie Run}-

and more to come in the future! my blog is mainly for wholesome content cuz do a lot of meme/just straight up wholesome art.

i'm alright with nsfw art of my ocs although i wont draw any nsfw myself. i'm not ready yet...

my asks are always open, I would love to answer questions for you all on both accounts! :D

my account isin't that active with posts since i often forget to finish or just start another drawing...

i appreciate likes and reblogs and I would love for you all to follow me on my adventure through Tumblr! be sure to stick around for stuff like work in progress animations and artwork. <3

birthday: jan 19 :D

fav colors: 💜purple💜 💙blue💙 💖pink💖

Interests:

Object Shows

Memes

Spongebob(ik sounds generic but yea i love that show)

Pokemon

Minecraft

Splatoon

Roblox: @mayab3020

UNDERTALE

Bugsnax

Cookie Run: Kingdom

sexuallity: lesbian, objectum

kin:

Remote (Tpot/Bfb)

Asriel (UNDERTALE)

Alphys (UNDERTALE)

Ash Ketchum (Pokemon)

Teardrop(BFDI,BFB,BFDIA,TPOT)

Taco(BFB)

Taco(II)

thank you for reading :>

aughs-ajofoijeijvdv

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 4 - Package Deal

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kids/domestic, fingering, anal sex, knotting, multiple orgasms, Voicing, claiming bites, D/s elements, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression, postpartum, body insecurity, breastfeeding, mpreg, pet names

Word Count: ~7000 (I'm sorry, okay?!😫)

Summary: Steve and Bucky make love for the first time since the birth of their son.

(Or: a prime example of how even my sincere attempts at g-rated domestic kid fics devolve into 6000+ words of smut 🤦🏻‍♀️)

[“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.”]

(Wait! I haven't read part 1, 2, 3 yet!)

Steve appears in the doorway to their bedroom after putting the girls to bed. “ ���And the children were nestled all snug in their beds’ ,” he recites, making Bucky chuckle softly.

“ 'blah blah, something about a long winter’s nap' .” (Which doesn’t sound bad at all to him right about now.) “That took a while," he says, stifling a yawn against the top of Gabe’s head. “They didn’t get their hands on any sugarplums at that party, did they?”

Steve shakes his head. “Naw. Crackers and juice.”

“Juice has sugar.”

“They’re fine. Reading got ‘em down.”

“We still on Stuart Little?”

“Becs begged for an extra chapter,” Steve confirms, smiling from where he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes full of affection as he watches Bucky feeding their son. “Did you have a nice time tonight, babe?”

Bucky winces first and lies second, so of course his ever-perceptive husband raises an eyebrow and waits him out for the truth. Bucky recounts the encounter with Karen and the other moms. “They wear me out,” he says, letting his eyes slip closed and his head dig back into the pillow that he’s got propped against the headboard. “Even when I promise myself I’m just gonna eat the food and not engage, somehow they draw me in. They have that knack.” 

“Eh. They’re just a bunch’a cotton-headed ninny muggins.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah well I’m not too far off from ‘em.” He feels Gabe slowing down and trails his fingers through the boy’s wispy hair. “Here I thought it was last week instead of this week. Seven full calendar days off track.”

“Babe, it happens.”

“Hm. No it doesn’t. But you’re sweet for saying so.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Neurologist said I’ve got too much white matter, now.”

“Yeah, and he also said it isn’t getting any worse. Lots’a people have brain injuries and manage to live perfectly fine lives.”

Bucky doesn’t miss how Steve substitutes the word ‘fine’ for ‘normal’, and his lips twist wryly. “I know. It’s just, all this time I’ve been blaming it on pregnancy brain, but that'd be wearing off by now.” He groans with his eyes still closed. “Swiss cheese for brains, Stevie, I swear.”

Steve makes a sad tut of disapproval from the doorway. Bucky stubbornly doesn’t open his eyes, but he can hear the soft sounds of Steve padding across the room, then the bed dipping by his side as he slides in next to him. “You’re doing great, Sweetheart,” he encourages.

Despite how much Bucky disagrees with that assessment, he can still hear all the love and warmth in Steve’s voice, can tell that his husband sincerely means it when he leans in and kisses his ear, lips and breath lingering at the craggy, mutilated top. It’s one of the ways that Steve has always silently said ‘I love you’ to Bucky when he knows the omega is in a bad mood, and it somehow manages to worm its way past his churlishness each and every time. “Thanks, Babe,” he mutters.

Steve wiggles in to sit beside him, hip to hip, mindful of Bucky and the baby and not upsetting Gabe’s feeding time. “... Did something else happen today? You seem, I dunno, burdened.”

“I am. I mean I’m just fucking tired, but yeah.”

His hand appears on top of Bucky's thigh. “Tell me?”

Bucky sighs. “Just my emotions goin’ haywire. Hormones. I went jogging and cried in the park.”

“Baby,” 

Steve never likes to hear that Bucky’s unhappy, which is the main reason why Bucky avoids mentioning it. He’s got a therapist for that shit, after all. “Eh, it was brief. I got over it. But then I realized the play was tonight and I had to scramble to get the girls' costumes together; and right before that, I had to do battle with this snotty little beta at the pharmacy just to try and get my prescription filled, so that didn’t help.”

“What?”

Bucky ruefully recounts the incident with his birth control medication and the new FDA regulations, and Steve starts to rumble angrily in his chest before the story is halfway through. Bucky opens his eyes to see his Alpha looking all indignant on his behalf. His lips quirk. “Easy there, Big guy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve growls. “I didn’t know there was any kind of legislation like that being considered.”

Steve’s unhappy scent is making Gabe start to pull away, and Bucky rubs the infant’s back. “Calm down. You’re making him squirm.” Steve grumbles but tries to obey, and Bucky relaxes when he feels Gabe go searching for another latch. “I dunno Steve. Things are changing, and I see the signs and it just scares the crap outta me.” 

“What do you mean, ‘changing’?”

“Just ... the little things," he mumbles, knowing that there's a chapter in his book called that, and that Steve probably remembers it, too. Bucky shrugs, avoiding Steve's concerned stare. "A couple of years ago, people weren’t talking so much about church. Now everybody’s back to talking about gender roles all the time.”

“People are allowed to have religion, Buck.”

“It’s not just that. It’s people’s attitudes changing, their whole approach. It scares me. People didn’t used to always be talking about what was ‘decent’ or what was ‘allowed’ on this platform or that. Purity culture, moral absolutism; those things were on the decline, ya know? People didn’t criticize working mothers as much. Omegas didn’t wear their collars in public like it's some sort of fashion statement. 'Tradwives' weren’t trending on TikTok. … Abortion was protected.”

“It’s still protected,” Steve argues. 

“Here it is,” Bucky says peevishly, because they both know about each and every issue that’s been kicked back to the states in recent years. “It’s how fast everybody forgets. Now those bumper stickers are coming back in vogue again, Jesus fish lapel pins. Hell, it’s even normal to launch a friendly chat with a chipper little ‘where do you fellowship?’ They’re banning books all the time—”

“In schools, not public libraries,” Steve interrupts, then hurriedly adds, “I’m not defending it, Buck. I’m just saying there’s a difference.”

“There’s a difference until there’s not a difference,” he snaps. Then, after a beat of fraught silence between them, he whispers, “Please tell me it’s not happening again, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve shifts beside him, putting an arm behind his back to pull him closer against his side. He kisses the top of his head. “No, Buck. We’ve got intelligence agencies to fight against that, now. That’s what Shield is for. It’s what I do. You’ve gotta know I’d never let you or the girls—the kids,” he hurriedly amends, not yet used to “the girls” no longer being an apt descriptor of their children, “get drawn into a situation like that again. I’d never let it happen, baby, never. You know we have an exit plan if things get bad.”

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly at the mere thought of it. “Yeah,” he whispers against Gabe’s head. He knows that Steve only put that plan together to help assuage Bucky’s lingering fears, his anxiety that never quite goes away completely. “Yeah. We can get out. We have a plan.” He’s whispering it to himself, vaguely recognizes the beginning feelings of a spiral, how his pulse is faster than it should be, audible in his ears, with dread pooling low in his gut like spoiled food.

He whimpers and pushes his nose against Gabe’s hair to soothe himself, inhaling the new baby smell that he still has. “We have a private jet,” he whispers, reminding himself, trying not to let his thoughts flash back to the memory of the retreating rear window of his mom’s car at a border crossing, his sisters’ faces pressed against the glass as they leave him behind in a country where he's not safe anymore …

“Untrackable Quinjet, fly to Canada,” he murmurs, trying to focus on five things that he can see, smell, feel, taste and hear … about Gabe, his son, his—

“Baby,” Steve is mourning by his side. He grips Bucky’s shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze, which pulls Bucky’s vision back into focus from the panic attack he’d been about to fall into. Steve seems unaware of it. He’s still just cuddling him and talking platitudes in a low voice. “That’s not happening, okay? Things are fine, I promise you.”

Bucky nods, even though he can’t help but to worry, “Then why are people giving up their rights again?” he asks. “You know they’re expanding the Fertility Care Act.”

“I know. But that doesn’t take anyone’s rights away.”

“You know how I feel about it.”

“I know. I know babe. ‘Incentiv—”

“Incentivization is the first step to coercion!” Bucky finishes for him. “Yes. They’re prioritizing citizens who can have kids over ones who can't. How is that fair?!” 

Steve lowers his head. “It’s not.”

“And passing all these restrictive laws? Requiring my Alpha to cosign on my birth control? How can they do that?”

Steve sighs. “We’re still a democracy,” he says sadly. “People still have the right to vote for the policies they want, even if they’re not the same things that you and I want. We’re a self-determining society, babe. If they get enough support for it, enough votes … People still get to make these decisions.”

Bucky grunts. “Well they're making the wrong ones.”

Steve hums in agreement, giving him another squeeze. “Hey now, don’t think about that stuff. Relax with me tonight, that’s what I want.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re gonna turn the milk sour, you keep worrying like that,” he teases. “C’mere, grumpy.” He dips in and nuzzles against Bucky’s face to try and get a small smile out of him. It kind of works, and Steve hums happily when he feels him soften. “How’s Little man?” he asks, kissing Bucky’s temple and looking down at their son.

“Pretty sure he’s eating in his sleep,” Bucky murmurs. “And I’m about to be too.” 

“Mm. But you’re not eating.” 

“You know what I mean, dummy.”

Steve leans in and noses at his neck, scenting him affectionately. “You smell so good, momma. Smell like home, like mate.” Bucky makes a grumbling sound of complaint at the “momma” and Steve snickers and kisses him in apology. He cups his hand behind Bucky’s flesh one, intimately joining him in cradling their infant son’s head against Bucky’s chest. “Lookit that,” he purrs, and it’s not all innocence to his tone, as he stares at where Gabe is suckling. “I love to see you like this,” he murmurs. “Seeing you feeding him, giving him what he needs. Using that part of yourself for this.”

Bucky groans and lets his eyes fall closed again in mortification. “Steeve.” He feels Steve’s thumb start swiping back and forth on the back of his hand that's cupping Gabe's head.

“Shh. It’s true, momma.” Steve starts peppering kisses against the top of his shoulder as he watches Gabe nursing and Bucky blushing. He speaks softly between the kisses, murmuring intimate words of love against Bucky’s skin: “Love it. Love you. You don’t know what it does to me, to see you with him like this. Watching you takin’ care of him. Knowing that your gorgeous body can do this, can nourish him. The baby you made for me, my son.” His voice is rumbling again by the time he finishes, possessive, and he laces their fingers together and ducks in close to start mouthing at Bucky’s bonding glands—something which he knows turns Bucky on to no end, goddamn him. 

Bucky groans and whines. “Are you serious right now?” Steve’s laugh puffs out against his skin, warm and affectionate, and Bucky drops his head to try and hide the smile he can’t keep off his own face. “Damn you, Rogers.”

“Language, momma Rogers,” Steve purrs, which only serves to make the heat in Bucky’s face worse. “Let me put him down,” he murmurs, kissing Bucky’s neck one last time before moving forward to take Gabe. Bucky hands him over with a tired hum, letting his eyes slip closed again while Steve is gone. 

He’s surprised when he drifts off to sleep and the next thing he’s aware of is Steve crawling back into the bed with him. “Mmhh, I fell asleep.”

“I can see that.”

“He go down okay?”

“Yep.” Steve pulls him into his arms and lies down with him, kissing his forehead. “You make me so happy, Buck,” he whispers. He trails kisses down his face until he reaches his lips, then presses gentle pecks there until he’s able to coax his way inside for more. He makes out with him lazily, humming in pleasure as Bucky softens and starts to respond to it. He lets one hand roam his body, trailing up and down the omega’s side, then squeezing his waist. “You tired?” he whispers.

Bucky smirks with his eyes closed. “M’ always tired.”

Steve hums in agreement and kisses him some more. “He slept through the night last night.”

“Yeah. Don’t jinx it. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“Want to fool around?” Steve murmurs, already kissing along his jaw towards his neck again. His big hands roam Bucky’s body, caressing his waist and circling behind to grab at his ass. “I miss you.”

Bucky sighs in pleasure, nodding. “I’m fucking tired,” he murmurs—very pointedly not a ‘no’—then shivers when Steve rolls over to cover him with his body, pressing one firm, thick thigh up between his legs. Bucky groans tiredly. “Ohh, Honey.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Steve promises, whispering the words against his neck in a conspiratorial way that makes Bucky chuckle. Steve kisses his bonding gland again. “Mmm, promise. You can just lie here and feel good.”

“Or fall asleep,” Bucky mutters, though as Steve presses his thigh down and rolls his hips, the odds of that happening significantly diminish. Bucky smiles with his eyes still closed and digs his skull back into the pillow, shivering full-body as he feels his dick waking up. “Mm, Stevie. Yeah. Make me feel good?”

“Course,” Steve whispers, before sealing his mouth over the sensitive tissue of Bucky’s bond scar. He hums in pleasure as he sucks hard, coaxing the gland underneath to swell and grow closer to the skin with arousal. He fits his teeth to the shape of it, biting in a quick, sharp nip that makes Bucky gasp. 

“Oh! Steve …”

“You remember what the doctor said,” he teases, scraping his teeth over the spit-wet skin. “Hm? ‘Bout the ways Alpha can help you feel good?”

“Ohh, mm hm.” Bucky’s O.B. and his therapist have told them that stimulation of the glands can help relieve some of the effects of postpartum depression—including regular sex and penetrating bites from a bondmate. They've tried the latter but not the former, but Steve has been more than keen on the idea of helping his omega in both ways.

“What do you say, baby?” he asks, licking and kissing all over his bond scar. “Hm? It's all healed up from last time. Can I?”

Bucky whimpers, weak from the rush of arousal that always comes at hearing Steve ask for this. “Nnn,” he whines uselessly, rolling his body up against the alpha’s bulk. “Ssteve,” he slurs, “Nnn, don’t.”

“Aw, why not?” he coos lazily, still mouthing at that spot. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” He moves up to whisper in Bucky’s ear: “I know how hard it makes you cum when I time it just right.”

Bucky moans pitifully. He tries to remember what his reason for protesting it is, but it’s hard. “It’s almost—oh! mmm—s’almost Thanksgiving. W-we, um … T-tony’s parties, n’ the Turkey Trot …”

Steve lets his teeth drag over the glands again. “Fuck the Turkey Trot. So what? I love seeing you fresh with my mark. And this way everyone else will too. They’ll see it and they’ll know you’re mine. Know I was probably fucking you while I did it, claimin’ you all over again.” His voice is rough and gravelly by the end, full of heat and possession. “You got any idea how much I like that?”

“Hnhh,” Bucky breathes, unable to argue against that reasoning. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Steve purrs, eliciting another pathetic whine from his mate. Bucky can practically feel Steve’s satisfied grin as he continues to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, mouth never leaving his bonding glands for long. “Smell so fuckin’ good, momma,” he groans, and this time rather than protest the endearment, Bucky keens at the way Steve says it: like Bucky being the mother of his children is the sexiest, most wonderful thing imaginable. Steve keeps kissing a path down his neck and shoulder, over his collarbone and chest, stopping when he reaches the level of his pecs and sealing his mouth to a nipple—the same place where their baby was nursing not even ten minutes ago. 

Bucky shivers in sensitivity and blushes like a madman, his hands flying up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “Nnh, Steve, wait, oh …”

Steve groans and rubs his cheek against his chest, the drag of his facial hair and his hot breath making Bucky’s nipples harden into tight nubs. He brings a hand up to cup one swollen pec and mouths openly at the other, groaning as he stares greedily.  “Fuck, baby, look at you.”

“Steve,” Bucky pants. “Nnn,”

“Mm mn, no. Hush. Just let me play with ‘em.”

Bucky continues to whine about it, but a hardening dick and a leaking asshole don’t lie, and Steve knows him too well to let him get away with such shallow evasion at this point in their marriage.

He settles in for the long feast, humming and grunting in pleasure between kisses and sucks to Bucky’s chest, alternating sides and squeezing whatever he isn’t mouthing over at the moment. “God, baby,” he says between one kiss and the next. “Wish you’d stay like this. Love your body like this. So soft, just for me.”

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Mmhm. Could keep you like this forever. All needy and sensitive.” He traps Bucky’s nipple between his lips and sucks, hard, and Bucky feels that tingly sensation and knows what’s going to happen a second before it does. His hands fly to Steve’s head and he cries out, but there’s no time for him to warn his husband before his body lets out a tiny spurt of breastmilk. Steve only pauses for a second, his mouth still on him, and then he groans loudly against Bucky’s chest. He sucks again, huffing in enjoyment, then lifts up and meets Bucky’s gaze with lust-blown eyes. “Oh honey,” he whispers, sounding devastated. “I almost forgot how sweet you are.”

Bucky’s brain is kind of short circuiting at the sheen on Steve’s lips, wet from his very own breast milk. “Shit,” he exhales shakily. “Alpha.”

Steve growls and drops back down to suck on him some more. Bucky can only lie there and take it, his head tossing on the pillow and hands gripping Steve’s hair as the alpha makes a playground of his chest. Bucky whines and complains, but truth be told there’s something small and squirmy inside of him that secretly loves it when his husband indulges in his body this way. It makes him feel wanted and beautiful, reminds him that Steve loves every part of him, even when Bucky himself doesn’t. “Leave—aah—leave some for the baby,” he eventually manages to say, laughing between pleasured groans and gasps. 

Steve pulls off and comes up to kiss him, tongue swiping past Bucky’s lips and leaving the taste of himself behind. Bucky’s breathing shakily by the time they part, and Steve’s eyes flit over his face. “You okay?” he asks, so sincere in his care for Bucky that it makes Bucky want to give him everything. 

“Yes Alpha,” he whispers, reaching up with his flesh hand and cupping Steve’s jaw with it. “I just love you stupid-much, is all.”

“Stupid much?”

“Mm, yeah, it’s pretty stupid.”

Steve surges down to kiss him thoroughly once more “See?” he teases, knocking their foreheads together. “All that moping didn’t curdle the milk after all.” Bucky huffs and swats at him, and Steve grins and rolls away. “Hang on one sec.” He gets up to undress, and by the time he’s crawling back into bed naked, Bucky’s kicked off his pajama pants as well. Steve slides right back into the cradle of his hips. Between their bellies, his cock is hard, but he makes no move to address it, focused on his mate instead. “What do you want tonight?” he asks gently, tracing Bucky's face on one side and then the other. “Hm? We can do anything you want. Whatever makes you feel good.” 

Bucky softens, in love. That’s how it’s been these past four months: Steve being careful, trying so hard to respect any boundaries, to let Bucky take the lead as they find their way back to intimacy as husbands. Problem is, most days Bucky doesn’t know what he wants. He swallows thickly and rasps out a quiet, “I just wanna feel you.”

Steve hums. He tucks the recently-shortened strands of Bucky’s hair aside, eyes flicking from one ruined ear to the other, amazing Bucky with how his gaze never waivers with any hint of distaste at the mutilated flesh. It’s just love he sees in him. “I think that can be arranged.”

He kisses him, long and languid and indulgent, the kind of kiss that takes its time and never really escalates, more intimate than it has any right to be. By the time he’s kissing down Bucky’s body to put his mouth on his prick, Bucky’s a leaking, mewling mess. 

“Ssteve,” he slurs as he watches his husband’s blond head of hair dip down between his legs and feels his mouth engulf him in sudden, overwhelming warmth. “Oh God.” Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he digs his skull back into the pillow, exhaling through clenched teeth at how good it feels. Steve hums from around his mouthful and Bucky hurriedly grasps at his hair. “Nnn, don’t,” he hisses, trying to calm down even as his hips are shoving up at Steve’s face. “Don’t hum like that, Jesus Christ.”

Steve laughs and pulls off to look up at him. He kisses Bucky’s cockhead and winks. “Sorry. I was just enjoying myself.” Keeping eye contact, he suckles and laves over just the head of Bucky’s dick, then uses his hold at the base to tap it against the flat of his tongue several times. 

“Fuck.” Bucky pants and screws his eyes shut. “It’s been too long. I can’t hold it.”

“Who says you need to hold it?” Steve kisses his hipbone. “Cum as many times as you want to, Sweetheart. As many times as you need.”

Bucky groans. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.” He goes back to Bucky’s cock, pushing hard at one of his thighs to force him to widen his legs even further. “There we go, good boy. Keep ‘em spread.” 

Bucky peeks down at Steve and sees him staring at … everything. 

Oh. … Oh.

He swallows nervously. It’s been over four months now, and he’s had the go-ahead from the doctor since all the way back at his six-week checkup, but Bucky’s still been self-conscious. They've resumed some recreational activities, but Steve still hasn’t asked to have sex yet. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s waiting for him to initiate. “H-how’s it looking down there?” he asks, trying to insert levity into his tone and failing pretty spectacularly. “Everything … everything good?” 

“Mmm.” Steve caresses his balls, pushing them up and out of the way, feasibly so that he can stare at his perineum and further back to his weeping, clenching hole. “It’s winking at me,” he says, making Bucky’s face go red hot.

“You know what I mean,” he huffs, knocking his heel against Steve’s back halfheartedly. “How’s it … how’s it look?”

Steve hums and pretends to consider it very seriously, moving in even closer. “Looks perfect,” he says, a touch more arousal in his voice this time. And he’s so close now that Bucky can feel the heat of his breath against his skin. Steve’s finger touches just behind his balls and glides all the way back along his taint, up and down, tracing the line of where Bucky knows the stitches were. “All healed up,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. “Pretty and pink.”

Bucky snorts and makes a face. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry Steve, I’ve read all the reality check articles.”

“The what?”

“Stuff on the internet for new mothers. On how wrecked you are after giving birth. They say it’s especially rough on male O’s, and I’ve popped two of these things out, so.” He grimaces. “I think they have like, lasers or something that they can use to try and fix it, or at least make it look nicer.”

“What?” Steve sounds shocked. “Babe. What are you talking about?”

Bucky huffs, not wanting Steve’s false platitudes. “I’m just trying to be realistic, okay?” He squirms impatiently and refuses to look down at the alpha between his legs. “So? Does it look like … ya know, very messed up?” 

Steve’s tensing shoulders and his low growl are the only warnings Bucky gets before his husband’s mouth is sealing itself straight over his taint and sucking ferociously, the accompanying rumble of his growl only intensifying the feeling.

Bucky yelps. “Holy fuck!” His body jolts in place, trying to bow off the bed, but Steve holds him still with strong arms wrapped around his thighs. “Sh-hit,” he gasps, “Steve!”

“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.” He surges back in, taking turns between tongue-fucking his hole and sucking on his rim as brutally as he can, making loud grunts and groans in the process that are very clearly meant to drive a point home. “Mmph, mmm, hhmph!” 

Bucky gasps and keens, overwrought by Steve’s words just as much as he is by the feeling of his mouth. He doesn’t even consciously think about it as he grabs his cock and starts jerking off, Steve groaning loudly against his ass when he realizes what Bucky’s doing. It only takes another minute of that before he’s coming, riding Steve’s face as his cock pulses in his hand and wets up his belly in spurts of clear omega cum. 

“Oh God, oh, ohh …” His breath hitches in broken moans as he rides the orgasm out. Then the pleasure wanes and he slowly comes back down to earth, panting and dazed, blinking up at nothing but the blank plaster of their bedroom ceiling …

Until Steve reappears in his field of vision, having climbed back up to lie over him once again. Bucky welcomes the press of his alpha’s heavy body on top of him, accepts the slick-tinged flavor of Steve’s tongue when he slots their mouths together and shoves inside, demanding and harsh. “That was number one,” he says, when he’s pulled back and is looking down at Bucky with a satisfied expression. “How many more you gonna give me tonight?”

Internally, Bucky curses. He curses, dies a little bit, and falls deeper in love all at the same time. Meanwhile, externally, he regains his breath and meets Steve’s hungry stare. “I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna wear me out more than the baby,” he says, aiming for a wry drawl but only achieving something that sounds breathless and wrecked instead. He sees Steve’s eyes darken the way they do whenever he’s issued a challenge, and knows he’s in for a hell of a night. “What’re you thinking?” he whispers.

“I’m thinking: I want to see that again, and again,” Steve rasps, voice gone to gravel. “Thinking I want to watch you lose control like that all the goddamn time. For the rest of my life.”

Bucky flushes. “Steve …”

“I’m thinking: that I want to make you feel good in every possible way there is to feel good.” His lips ghost over Bucky’s as he murmurs, “So that you know. Because you clearly don’t—”

“Steve …”

“And so that you never feel like you need to ask me a question about what you ‘look like’ ever again. Not on any part of your beautiful body.”

Bucky groans and tries to turn his face away, But Steve catches him and guides him back with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Uh uh, Sweetheart. You listen to me. I want to make love to you. Until you can’t take it anymore, until you go soft and weak and cryin’ with it.” His hands start wandering over the peaks and valleys of Bucky’s body, caressing his skin. One hand moulds itself to the side of his neck, fingers playing over the texture of his bondmark, while the other glides down, pausing to stop and tweak a nipple, squeeze his waist, grab the fleshy curve of a hip. Very purposefully, he slides his hand to settle into place over his lower belly, hushing him when he feels him start to tense up. “Shh sh sh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Steve, I’m … it’s —”

“Shhh.” He nudges their noses together, chiding and affectionate all at once, because he knows which parts of his body Bucky is most self-conscious of. But he doesn’t move his hand from the territory it’s claimed. “I know,” he whispers. “I know how you feel. But that’s all wrong, baby. And I want to show you.” He kisses him again, only this time it’s tender, almost achingly so. He relents and pulls back. “That’s all, Honey. I just want to make you feel new things, good things. I want to show you. I need to show you.” 

“Show me what?” Bucky whispers, but then Steve stares down at him in that dark and private way that he deeply, intimately recognizes, and he regrets having asked. Bucky trembles and closes his eyes. “Steve, please. You don’t have to …” 

“Look at me,” Steve murmurs. He rests their foreheads together. “I just want you to understand, baby. That when I touch you here,"—his fingers curl possessively into the too-soft flesh of Bucky’s stomach—“I feel something so profound, so far beyond just love or arousal … that I don’t even know what to say to you. You understand? It hurts. I don’t have words for it.” He looks at him imploringly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful than you are to me right now.”

Bucky’s heart beats faster at the intimate confession. He tries to suck his stomach in, tries to tense his abdominals and make himself firm, but Steve tuts at him and pinches the side of his neck, right over his swollen glands. Bucky gasps, eyes shooting back up from where he’d been starting to look down between their bodies at Steve’s hand on him. “I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Steve says, and this time it’s in his Voice, the sound of it sending an instant shot of arousal down Bucky’s spine and into his core. His eyes must show it, too, because Steve smiles and purrs deep in his chest. “Yeah,” he encourages, still in the Voice that he so rarely uses with Bucky. “That’s right. Look up here at Alpha. Do as you’re told.”

Bucky licks his lips, aware that his cock is rapidly hardening again. “Steve,” he breathes shakily. “I —”

“Pull your knees up,” he murmurs, and Bucky obeys without a second thought. “Good boy.”

A chirp erupts from Bucky’s throat, unbidden, and he colors in surprise at the sound. “Alpha,” he says, because it’s the only word he can think to say.

Steve smiles and strokes over his bond mark with the roughened pad of a thumb. “Does it feel nice? Want more?”

Bucky nods, blinking, the effects of Steve’s Voice still singing in his veins like a drug. “Yeah.” 

They hardly ever engage in Voiceplay. It’s something Bucky enjoys with his husband, but he’s had bad experiences with other alphas in the past; times when men who weren't Steve assaulted him with what should only ever be used as a tool of lovemaking. Steve knows this, and so he usually avoids Voicing with Bucky unless he knows that the circumstances are just right.

The circumstances are just right. 

Bucky whimpers and reaches down impulsively to cover Steve’s hand where it rests on his belly, but not to pull it away. “Alpha,” he chirps again, fingers curling over Steve’s larger ones.

“This okay?” Steve checks, his eyes scanning his face for even a hint of discomfort. 

But he finds none, and Bucky nods his head in fast approval. “Yeah, yes.”

It’s still achingly vulnerable, having Steve touching this soft, imperfect part of him; but it’s intimate, too, and Bucky wants more of that. He wants Steve to make love to him this way, an Alpha with his omega—capital A, lowercase o.

“S’been so long,” he breathes, his voice hitching as his emotions finally catch up with him. Ridiculously, he starts to feel tearful. He’s missed having this with his mate so much. “So long, Stevie.”

“Baby,” Steve coos. “Don’t cry.”

Bucky sniffles shyly and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, feeling stupid. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles.

Steve’s fingers massage his bond mark and he kisses his temple soothingly. The hand that was on his stomach snakes around, dipping underneath his lower back and tugging them even closer together. “You gonna let me?” he asks. “Gonna let Alpha make you cum again and again?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me give you another bite, make it a good one? Mark you up again for everybody to see?”

Bucky whines and nods, drawing his knees up, wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips and tilting his pelvis to make himself available to his mate. “Please,” he begs. “Please, yes, Steve. I want it, please.”

Steve rumbles deep in his chest and slots their mouths together in a brief, aggressive kiss, then pulls back swiftly and manhandles him onto his belly, pulling him up by the hips into presenting. Bucky cries out in surprise but goes willingly, widening his knees on the bed and pushing his ass back into Steve’s groping hands. “Good boy,” Steve praises, Voice dipping down into that register that’s low and rumbly and lets Bucky know that his Alpha is very pleased with him.

Bucky grunts and wiggles happily until Steve’s hand appears at the back of his neck and pushes down: a wordless, forceful ‘Stay’ that makes him shiver and whine with impatience. “Nnnh.”

The hand flattens at his nape and slowly drags down the length of his spine, appreciative and greedy. “Aw, Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, hips rocking forward. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect, y’hear me?” He curses quietly as he digs his fingers into the fat of Bucky’s hips, watches his cock dragging through the wet valley of his ass. “Jesus wept, Honey. Lookit you. Wet dream come to fucking life, I swear.”

Steve only curses this much when he’s incredibly turned on, and the knowledge that it’s his doing has Bucky slicking up even worse than before. He whines and scrubs his face against the bedding as he feels his hole pulse and leak, the slick tickling as it trails down his taint and balls. “Steve,” he pleads, relieved when Steve grabs his hips and continues to take control.

“Shh, s’okay, you’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Gonna take it slow.” His fingers appear at his backside, slipping through all the slick, wetting them up in him. He starts to press in with one finger. “Real slow,” he murmurs. He fucks him on just that one finger, for far longer than he would normally do, taking his time in Bucky’s body, in relearning this touch with him. Bucky makes a miserable noise against the bedsheets and Steve hums, pleased. “Yeah? How’s that feel, Sweetheart?”

Bucky whines and nods, his cheek dragging on the sheets. He feels Steve curling over him, his chest pressing up against his back and then the finger sliding deeper. Bucky moans as it grazes over his prostate. “Oh, God.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s breath hits right at his ear. He plants his left forearm alongside Bucky’s, holding himself up as he fingers him. Right next to Bucky’s face, their pinky fingers hook together, flesh over metal. Steve kisses the shell of his ear and whispers, “Bucky, honey. You’re so swollen inside, I can feel it.” He strokes his finger, curling gently over that spot that makes Bucky’s vision go blotchy. “I want you to cum like this first,” he whispers. “On my hand a couple’a times. Right on Alpha’s fingers. Okay?”

Bucky sobs and nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Steve, please.” He can feel the orgasm coalescing already, the pleasure of Steve’s finger pulling him closer on every pass. “Please, please.”

“Shhh. Remember: slow,” he reminds him, and Bucky’s guts twist up in further delicious arousal and frustration. Steve doesn’t try to edge him, though. He lets him have it, working him up to it steadily, not rushing, kissing his neck again and again as he fucks him on one finger and then two.

That added fullness is what makes Bucky unravel, his body pulsing as he gasps and suddenly falls into his second orgasm.

Steve talks him through it, never stopping the whispered encouragements against his ear: “There we go. That’s it, baby, that’s it. So good.”

Bucky collapses to his stomach, and Steve follows him down, gently nudging his knees inside of Bucky’s to make a space for himself. Bucky complies, boneless from his climax. “Stevie,” he slurs. 

“Right here, baby.” He presses up all along his back, covering him with warmth. “I’m right here.” His hands slide up Bucky’s arms and cover his hands at either side of his head. Bucky moans quietly as Steve laces their fingers together and gives a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous.” He rolls his hips, cock slotting into place. “You’re so wet.”

“Y-yeah.”

Steve rocks leisurely against him and Bucky hums at how slick it is, enjoying the intimacy of rubbing together full-body. He lets his eyes slip closed as he soaks it all in: Steve’s heavy weight, his scent, the scratch of his beard and the heat of his breath in the crook of Bucky’s neck. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” Steve drags his lips over the sensitive skin of his bondmark. “Can I fuck you, baby?” he asks softly. “You want that, hm? Want Alpha inside of you?”

Bucky is glad that Steve can’t see his face, because his eyes are wet from pleasured, overly-emotional tears, and this way he doesn’t have to bother being embarrassed over what a sap this pregnancy has turned him into. He nods and scrubs his cheek against the bedcovers. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, Steve. Please.”

Steve hums and kisses him once more, before he reaches down and lines his cock up, dragging the head wetly across his rim a few times with increasing pressure, until it catches. Bucky tenses, because it’s been so long since they’ve done this, and because the last event of real significance that involved his asshole had been childbirth, but Steve soothes him with a sucking kiss to his bondmark. “Relax,” he murmurs, pushing in at the same time and making Bucky gasp softly. “Shh, there you go. See?” 

“Ohh.” Bucky’s eyelids flutter as he’s slowly filled. “Steve.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s hips kiss his ass as he sinks home all the way. “Juust like that,” he purrs, grinding against him and staying deep inside. “S’it feel nice?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky breathes, lips parted and eyes closed, brow furrowed at how full he is. “Yeah, Stevie … oh …” 

Steve chuckles and kisses his shoulder. “You feel amazing,” he whispers, before he experiments with moving a little more. He keeps pulsing his hips, rocking languidly, gradually building up to a slow pace.

He fucks him gently then, not pulling back to get on his knees or gain any kind of leverage. Instead he stays close, deep; plastered to his back and dragging his cock against his sensitive insides over and over so perfectly. When it pulls a tortured moan from Bucky's throat, Steve encourages him with soft, sucking kisses against his glands. “S’okay.”

“God, Steve.”

“Uh huh. Juust like that. I remember how you like it. Alpha's got you, baby.” Steve sounds like he’s getting close, too, voice laboured as he grunts against Bucky’s neck. “You gonna, ugh, gonna cum again, mamma?”

Bucky whines and nods. “This time,” he begs. “Please, please. Do it.”

The two of them share a bond, and that’s probably the main reason why Steve’s able to tell what he means.

He doesn’t disappoint, either, fucking him smoothly right into another orgasm and timing it perfectly. As soon as Bucky’s body goes rigid and his breath stutters in his throat, Steve’s biting down hard over his bondmark, breaking the skin and piercing the swollen glands beneath. Bucky sobs and comes harder and longer than he has in a long time, crying from how impossibly good it feels.

It’s compounded by the sudden groan that Steve lets out and the rapid inflation of his knot, as the bite sets him off as well: “Nngh!”

While Steve is stuck inside him and lost to his own pleasure, Bucky’s able to rock himself to one more, toe-curlingly delicious orgasm before he finally lets himself go boneless on the bed, fully sated. He knows when Steve is done coming, because the alpha becomes more attentive again, his hands running over Bucky like he’s checking him for injuries sustained. If Bucky hadn’t just come four times, he might've been able to spare a chuckle over it. “Hey,” he says instead. “M’fine, babe.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds pleased. He gives his hips a lazy roll against Bucky’s ass and nuzzles his freshly-bitten bondmark, groaning at the pheromones that hit him. He licks a big, fat swipe over it with his tongue, groaning and making Bucky hiss. “Mmm," he murmurs. "You’re bleeding."

“Duh.” 

Steve growls. “Be nice to your Alpha,” he Voices, and  Bucky shivers pleasantly. Steve notices the reaction and gloats. “Hmm. Maybe we should start biting more often.”

“How often?” Bucky’s halfway through a yawn as he says it, and he feels Steve shrug against his back. 

“Once a month?”

He chokes. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve’s snickering. “I like a well-scarred bondmark. S’romantic.” 

“It’s fucking primeval is what it is, you caveman.” Bucky scolds, rolling his eyes. He clenches down purposefully hard on Steve’s knot, smiling at the surprised—Hngnn!—he gets for it. “We already do it on our anniversary every year.”

“And sometimes on Valentine’s,” Steve supplies.

“Exactly. Any more than that and people’ll think we have a fetish.”

“Well, maybe we do,” he purrs, kissing the bite. “And it is what the medical professionals are recommending, after all.”

“Ha, yeah.” 

“... You’re really okay though?” Steve checks. “None of that bothered you? The Voicing, or the—”

“Shh. No. I loved it.” Bucky lets his eyes fall closed. He can still feel his pulse thrumming beneath his skin, bringing the delicious ache and throb of his glands to the forefront. “Every part of it,” he sighs.

Steve laces their fingers together. “Good. ‘Cause I take doctor's orders very seriously, you know.” He rumbles deep in his chest and gives a dirty grind against their tie. “We gotta keep you healthy, Buck. Gotta make sure you’re properly … stimulated.” 

“You suck so bad,” Bucky groans. “Your permission to know my medical information is rescinded.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. I can dick you down again in like, an hour, if you want? Probably. Two hours, tops.”

Bucky yawns, humming as he pretends to consider it. “Tempting offer, but how ‘bout you cuddle me ‘till I pass out, instead?” he says, because he really does think the other night was a fluke, and that he’s destined to be awakened by a baby monitor within the next few hours. Steve wraps his strong arms around him and pulls them to lie on their sides. They spoon like that and enjoy the closeness while they wait for Steve’s knot to go down. Bucky gets goosebumps when Steve starts caressing lazily up and down his side. “Mm, that’s nice.”

“Mmhm.” Steve slots his fingers into the trigger points for the prosthetic. “Let’s take this off,” he whispers, kissing the shell of his ear. 

It’s Bucky’s fucked up ear—a place where he’s usually squirmy and uncomfortable about Steve touching, let alone kissing, but right now it doesn’t bother him at all. Too many endorphins surging through his system, he supposes.

“Okay,” he agrees, since he doesn’t really love sleeping with the arm on anyway (he’s got this paranoia that one day he’ll sleep-punch Steve in the middle of a nightmare or something), and then lies there and listens to the sounds that the arm makes as it’s triggered to disengage from his body. He can’t actually feel anything other than some vague, mechanical movements deep in the arm’s very internal workings. It doesn’t hurt. And then it comes off, a sudden release of weight and tension that Bucky hadn’t even realized was there. He moans quietly at the feeling. “Nnh. Thanks Stevie.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve sets the arm out of the way and resumes his gentle stroking and caressing along Bucky's side, venturing up higher to where the anchor site for the arm begins, implanted permanently into his body.

Bucky can sense his husband looking down at it, can feel the pads of his fingers exploring thoughtfully over the texture of scars and metal edging. He sighs, feeling wistful. “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like, if we’d met before?”

Behind him, Steve stills. He’s quiet for a long moment, and just when Bucky thinks he’s not going to answer at all, his caressing starts back up again and he hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. “Sometimes, in a general way," he admits. "But then ... it wouldn't be the you I fell in love with, would it? We wouldn’t be us.” He worms his other arm under his waist and hugs them closer together. “Maybe we’d have less nightmares between the two of us, less therapy,"

Bucky snorts.

"But I wouldn’t choose anything but this. Nothing would be the same if we hadn't met the way we did, y'know? You probably would’ve stayed in college, focused on your career, maybe put off kids too long. I wouldn't have joined Shield, Peggy wouldn't have moved away.” He kisses the ruined edge of Bucky’s ear again, so tender and slow that Bucky knows he’s doing it intentionally. “Just think: Becca wouldn’t exist. And we wouldn’t have Sarah or Gabe, 'cause you and I never would’ve met.”

“We might’ve.”

“Mm, doubtful.” 

Bucky grumbles, displeased at that hypothetical, and Steve hugs him and coos in agreement, “Shh. I know, I know. That would be awful. I’m just saying: you can’t trade the good for the bad. It’s a package deal. And you know what? I’m happy with my package.” He seals his mouth to the fresh bite wound and gives a powerful suck, popping off with a wet sound and a pleased growl. “Very very happy with my package.”

Bucky’s too gooey and in love and fucked out to get the delivery just right, but he at least manages to wiggle his butt against their tie and mutter out a tired but saucy little, “Mmm, yeah. I like your package, too.”

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[diospore]

MHA 430, no real spoilers to the ending but I'm also discussing my au ideas under the break too so that's why I tagged spoilers and added the bar, because there's a variety of spoilers.

That was fine I guess, could've been worse... Sad no dfo but I kinda gave up on that being good 10 chapters ago. Insert Thanos I'll do it myself gif.

5.5-6/10.

I'm gonna start my analysis + reread on Saturday I think?

Here's thoughts I already have:

- Reduce amount of students in 1-A. I realized that I can't handle 20+ main characters lol. My original idea was 5, but I've got it down to 10 by fusing characters. Izuku, Aoyama, Uraraka, Shoto, and Bakugo remain the same. I'm going to review the fusions and draw them later...

Fusions:

Sero/Kaminari/Kirishima (Reason: I get them mixed up a lot.)

Iida/Momo/Ojiro (Rich kid + I like Ojiro)

Jiro/Tokoyami/Shoji (Characters with a "dark vibe" ((emo lol)))

Mina/Tsu (I'd feel bad having one and not the other)

Koda/Sato (Honestly they're here because they're the ones I think of when I think "they got shoved aside" as well as Ojiro but I like him more.) ((... Also combine their names and you get Soda....))

Most likely to be cut: Ojiro, Sato, Koda, Sero

Cut: Mineta (Obvious reasons), Hagakure (I couldn't think of anything)

I swear there's logic here but I'm unable to explain it better lol. I'm eepy.

- Bakugo will be expelled from UA in the first arc, perhaps that'll be the conclusion of it. Possibly return in a later arc, I'm thinking the vigilante arc? Minor character. Basically a starter antagonist before the stakes ramp up.

(Results in the same amount of students as OFA users! Which I think is a nice parallel.)

- First arc will be about the class bonding since I really wanted more 1-A bonding scenes. Mainly about them helping each other. (I. E. Izuku opening up about being bullied, the class helping Shoto with the Endeavor situation, etc.) Bakugo's role will be getting in the way of this. Minor antagonist.

- LOV shouldn't be introduced until after a bond is established. Sorry Shiggy my beloved, you must wait.

- All for One dies in Kamino equivalent. (Unsure of how to set this up w/o Bakugo, maybe Midoriya's the one kidnapped?) Sorry AFO I love you so so much, but I'm killing you off. You're op as hell and the kill should be All Might's. You can come back and possess people later if you're good.

- DFO will be there as well as reducing the role AFO played in Shigaraki's backstory. Increase the role in Midoriya's life (negative).

- Aizawa will have a bit of a tweak, he'll be less physically violent with the students. (Less scarf grabby, only in extreme circumstances) Also I think having a lasting injury from the Oboro incident would be a nice touch. Give him a House MD vibe with a cane??? God I fucking loved House. Gay and homophobic, what an icon.

- Eventually I want Endeavor to go to prison or face some form of consequence. Maybe death. I was also thinking about him being tricked into helping AFO out of desperation for that number one spot. Bakugo takes his place for redemption arc?

- I don't really want to kill Midnight off... Or Twice... Or like. Any of the LOV. Need to think about that... But I know Twice's death was very important, so I might have to get over it somehow.

Not saying there won't be death, it just has to make more sense to me.

-

Wrote most of this at 2 am lol so this is probably incoherent. It's not a critique of the series, it's just my idea for the au. Like I get that classes have like 20 people in them. And that characters die. That villains die even if they're children.

I think if I plan this in arcs, I'll have the best chance of finishing it.

[fortunesfavours]

time travel in ten - sequential narrative collage piece done for my class, Artifact.

ramblings below the cut for those interested in the process/life update for friends who have noticed i've been gone

right lmao. i had two weeks to do this project and had a completely different idea that i just could not get myself to be excited about. emailed my prof in desperation, but it being like 10 pm meant that she was not about to respond. within 30 minutes, as it goes, i got struck with divine inspiration by whatever force of nature governs procrastination-induced genius, and i promptly spent the next 12 waking hours non-stop working on this.

my class, artifact, is a requirement for the foundation year at the college i attend. it centers around time-based media, ranging from the sequential illustration here to video later in the semester, and a bunch of other projects designed to get us thinking in 4d. artifact is the theme of the class - my peers are doing the same projects under a variety of different themes (tragically, haunting filled up too quickly and i missed out on enrollment in that one).

our first project was designing an artifact and doing a write-up of the story behind it. the girl to my left made beaded spiders members of a fictional cult carried. the guy across from me made an amulet of a long-dead god. you get the vibes. mine, which I still need to take professional photos of, is a pocketwatch that lets you time travel. cause, yknow. i'm me. it was gonna be about time travel.

i had originally intended to do a bunch of drawings of the watch's owner, building out her backstory and the world she lives in, and explaining why the watch exists,,,, then i couldn't bring myself to pick up the stylus. I just can't seem to find the energy for my usual digital art (sorry friends i miss yall i'm still here i swear).

here's the bit about my life so feel free to stop reading if you just care about the art 👍

I haven't drawn fanart or my ocs in months now, since last semester, and I miss it a whole bunch but right now that creative energy just. is not happening. i don't plan on abandoning it forever by any means, but p much everything i have is going towards school right now. sad as that is, i'm having so much fun, and i'm so proud of the technical improvements i've made. I've got so many things i want to create, mostly for my ocs. i still love crit role, but i've fallen of campaign three. i don't have the time, and the story hasn't been engaging me for a bit.

i've been really into dr who lately, and am eagerly waiting for the spare time to sit and watch all of candela obscura. i'm in a new dnd game. i've got friends! real life friends! irl friends who called me the wizard friend within a few hours of knowing me before i even opened my mouth about dnd lmao. i've discovered a new love of collage, and i've just declared my major in something unique to my school, a program called Studio for Interrelated Media. i'll be learning about illustration still through the extra electives i'll have room for, but i also get to explore printmaking in more depth, as well as event planning, installation, curation, and theatre work as well.

i miss being on here a whole bunch and want to be more active when i get more time. don't plan on abandoning this blog by any means. boston has been kind to me, and though i have had some Real Low Points, i've also been living the life i've hoped for since i was a kid. i'm good, really really good.

to my friends, ily, i miss you, and i hope you're well. can't wait to catch up on all yalls art and fic. sending all my love. <3