#i was writing this and fell asleep

[crabboytahomaru]

4am zool thoughts (not just Tora I promise)

Torao probs slept with people so much bc he was lacking in proper human connection and love and tried to satisfy it that way

He's used to having women hang off his arm, but now it's a 17yr old high school student whose rambling about the latest stupid thing his classmate did

He's used to taking people on classy dates in high end restaurants

He goes with minami to a local restaurant and watches mina happily scarf down like 5 bowls of ramen.

He foots the bill, as a gentleman does, but then mina nudges him and asks him, am I not a gentleman too? And so they take turns every time to pay for each other.

Instead of spending his nights in the embrace of a woman, they're all at toumas house watching one of minas horror movies.

'haru, are you scared? It's alright if you are, it's meant to be scary' touma would tell haru kindly and haru would reply: 'W-Who said I was scared!?', curling up closer to touma regardless.

Tora would mention to mina how cute he was as a child, to which mina would tease and say aren't I just as charming now?

He has his precious people now, he doesn't mind being used by them

He'd take them to amusement parks and buy haru the merch. He remembers one time where haru placed Minnie mouse ears on top of toumas head, claiming that it suit him.

Using fast passes, haru practically dragged them to every ride there, mina being the only person who could sit with him on every one. Touma got exhausted after the first 3 in a row (and to his credit, tried to stay with haru as long as possible) and Tora amicably sat out on every ride that haru would let him (oh my, do we have a scaredy cat on our hands? Mina would always tease)

When haru slapped his report card on the table in minas house, his chest puffed out proudly at his rising grades, Touma couldn't help but ruffle the kids hair affectionately. Haru blushed and announced he didn't need such childish gestures, but everyone knew how happy he was to be praised.

Sometimes haru would walk into their practice room, hair all disheveled due to pulling an all nighter for a test - which he did revise for properly by the way, mina would have killed him otherwise, he just wanted to double check the content.

Mina, sitting on the floor, would gesture for haru to sit in front of him and would comb through his hair, insisting that idols needed to stay presentable at all times.

Haru would be little apprehensive at first, not wanting it to hurt, but mina was gentle, taking his time with any knots.

Sometimes, after watching some of minas horror movies, haru would get just a little bit scared and would have mina read aloud to him whatever book he was reading at the time to lull him to sleep.

Zool, when sleeping over at a members house, would get out futons for each member, but half the time they never get used. Most of the time they'd pile into the members bed.

Whenever there's the possibility of sleeping over, more often than not it's toras house that's suggested first, solely bc his bed is massive enough it could probably fit 4 adult men no problem.

[itneverendshere]

a circus ain't a love story - baby daddy! rafe.

request: "baby daddy! rafe where reader and rafe are not together and she’s going on dates with men and he’s jealous but not like possessive jealous but like 🤭 jealous?" @zyafics

warnings: cursing; rafe's an asshole but he's just going through it <3; a lil angsty??; lots of tension and pent-up frustration; they just need to fuck it out honestly.

rafe likes to think of himself as a changed man. 

long gone is the reckless impulsive guy that reigned horror in the outer banks. he’s grown now, the man of the family, and a father. he spends his days working hard, providing for his family, and cherishing every moment with his baby girl. 

but when he learns you’ve been seeing other men after your ‘amicable’ breakup, he feels like he’s nineteen and ranging in misplaced anger all over again. younger days, when his temper ruled his actions and consequences were an afterthought.

old insecurities resurface, whispering doubts and fears into his mind.

you’d broken up before, years ago, and it barely lasted a month before both of you caved in. but now? now, you have a baby together, and for some reason, the breakup feels…permanent. 

he thought you just needed a breather from him, a little space to settle your mind after going through all the changes with your pregnancy. maybe he took you for granted, maybe he became too comfortable, too complacent in the belief that your love was unshakeable. and he’s paying for it. 

“where the fuck are you going?”

he knows exactly where you’re going, he’s just a masochist.

rafe’s always been vocal about his thoughts around you, having virtually no filter between his brain and mouth. it’s something you’ve gotten used to after five years in a relationship, the man is nothing if not blunt and crass. but now, it's different.

you’re not a couple anymore. you shouldn't have to put up with his nagging bullshit. but you have a child together, which means that you’ll never be able to fully scratch him out of your system. 

how were you so good before and yet so terrible once your daughter got here? 

you sigh, choosing to keep your back to him. 

“date.”

you hear him snort, not even having to peek to know he’s shaking his head, blue eyes lingering between your new dress and the ceiling, “my bad. thought you were going to a gala.”

you turn then, hand on your waist as you take him in. it’s hard not to stare at his freshly shaved hair and it only makes you want to slap him stupid for not doing it years ago. what’s the point if you can’t have him? 

“why? it’s not illegal to put in effort.” you tilt your head slightly, ignoring the way his eyes are burning holes through your shiny legs.

he pulls his eyes back to your face, but all you can see is the imprinted vision of your daughter laying on his chest earlier, her chubby cheek pressed against his shirt and her little hand curled around his finger. 

rafe’s heart clenches, the bitterness of your words sinking deep into his bones. he knows what you're implying, knows that you're trying to hurt him.

“he’s worth all that, huh?”

you shrug your shoulder, pieces of your hair falling back as you attempt to act nonchalantly, “maybe he is.”

rafe’s lips twitch into a half-smirk, half-grimace, a familiar expression that used to make your heart race but now just knots your stomach.

“who is it this time? it’s just kinda hard to keep track of your dates.”

his gaze lingers on you, searching for something, perhaps a hint of the girl he fell in love with, buried beneath layers of resentment and exhaustion.

you grit your teeth, the frustration growing beneath the surface threatening to spill over, “you don’t know him.”

he shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “got yourself a touron?”

“don’t piss me off.”

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i’m not trying to. just curious.”

“his name is mike.”

rafe's lips quirk into a sardonic smile as he hears the name. "mike, huh? sounds like a guy who sells insurance or teaches yoga on the weekends."

you shoot him a glare, unamused by his jest. "can you just be serious for once?"

catching sight of the offended look in your face, he adds, “it’s not my fault you keep choosing the ugly ones.”

you stare at him incredulously, “you don’t even know him!”

“hear me out, okay? if you’re ever going to give charlotte a sibling might as well—“

you’d throw the mug on your kitchen table at his head if charlotte wasn’t sleeping in the room next door.

“you think you’re so fucking funny don’t you?!” 

rafe hushes you, one of his hands rising to his lips, “what happened to no cursing in the house?”

your eye twitches, fingers itching to wrap themselves around his throat. “i’ll strangle you right here, rafe.”

“you got a new kink, mama?”

his ability to push your buttons has always been unparalleled, and it seems he's mastered the art even more since your breakup. he still manages to evoke a weird mixture of irritation and fondness within you.

“you can’t keep doing this. i like mike, maybe i want to date mike.”

rafe's expression shifts, his brows furrowing slightly as if your words have struck a chord. but then, just as quickly, his facade hardens again. he raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "i’m just trying to help. you said the exact same thing about whatever his fucking name was two months ago.”

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “see! you’re trying to patronize me.”

“’m not.”

“right,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, “course you aren’t.”

his taunting smirk is more than a little infuriating. “i just doubt this guy is gonna stick around.”

“oh, so that’s it?” you prod him, laughing in his face, hands curling into tight fists. you get closer, staring him down as you look upwards. “we’re back to lying to each other now?”

rafe’s face is contorted into a grimace; eyebrows furrowed, and you can feel his steady breathing before he speaks.

”i can do this all day.” he scoffs, a bitter edge creeping into his voice, “i think the moment you tell him about charlotte he’s gonna run back to whatever hole he creeped out of. you think he wants to be a daddy?”

“who said he has to? that’s your job. maybe i just want to fuck him, you ever think about that?” the admission feels like a betrayal and a liberation all at once.

it’s a familiar dance you two have been doing since the breakup – hurling accusations and blame at each other like weapons in a war neither of you can win.

rafe’s smirk fades into a scowl as your words hit him like a slap in the face. he takes a step back, one of his hands instinctively rising in a placating gesture, but there's a defiant glint in his eyes that tells you he's not backing down without a fight. 

his jaw tightens, “now you’re just trying to get under my skin.”

you throw your hands up in despair, “it’s always about you, unbelievable.” 

you feel like your heart is being vacuumed into your stomach as he stares.

“me?” his fingers dig into his chest, as if you’ve shot him right there, “you're the one who's constantly bringing up other guys, rubbing it in my face like- like i'm supposed to just sit back and take it."

you let out a slow controlled breath and attempt to loose your body movements. “we’re not doing this again.”

rafe knows he's treading on thin ice, but relents, “oh, m’sorry sweets. forgot you hate to be reminded i care.”

“care?” you laugh but it’s void of any humor, “is this your way of showing me you care? making me miserable? slut-shaming the mother of your daughter?”

“didn’t mean it like that, don’t twist my words.”

you square your shoulders, refusing to let him see the cracks in your armor. "you said what you said, and you can't take it back."

his jaw clenches, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he searches for the right words to say, “you’re pushing it.”

there’s a fiery anger in your eyes that makes his body warm. “so fucking what?”

without a word, rafe closes the distance between you, his movements tentative yet purposeful. his hand reaches out, fingers gripping your cheeks, his rough touch sending your body into a frenzy. you want to push him away, but the pull between you is too strong to resist. you’ve been yearning for his touch for months, no one knows how to pull your strings like he does.

“you drive me fucking insane, y’know that?”

you merely blink, pretending to be bored, “go fuck yourself.”

and then, in a rush of pent-up desire and frustration, rafe snakes a hand around the back of your head to pull you to meet him in a passionate kiss.

it’s all sorts of desperate as if trying to bridge the problems between you, you're arching into him as his hand trails down your spine. his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him urgently. there's a hunger in rafe’s touch, a desperation to reclaim what his lost, and you respond in kind, your hands roaming over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles with a familiarity that sends shivers down his spine.

“you’re not going on a fucking date.” he pants between kisses, the way his lips caress your face keeping you close distracting you momentarily.

“you can’t stop me.” 

his hand slides around your waist, over the curve of your ass, grabbing a handful in the process, “watch me.”

[deserthusbands]

cody, showing obi-wan his bucket, where the tooka kitten had decided to curl up: how does this keep happening?

obi-wan, peering in, only to chuckle fondly: well, dear. it does look like the cat has claimed it as its own.

cody: but it’s so small and cramped..

obi-wan: well, your little friend doesn't seem to have a problem with either– he's ‘vibrating’ again.

cody, sighing: i guess. but he can't have my bucket forever. i need it more than he does.

obi-wan: something tells me he would disagree,

[ghastlybirdie]

Oops, thinking about...

+18, mdni

The fainting stinging sensation underneath your eyes from Simon rubbing the delicate skin raw, each tear caught in the pads of his thumbs as he wiped them away, his gruff voice seemingly eons away as static filled your ears.

Simon tangled your legs over his shoulders, your joints and muscles too taut to move them down on your own without your brute of a man manhandling you again, your limbs shaking where they were hooked while Simon let primitive instincts take over his body.

His hips rolled, bucked, pounded into you for who knows how long, his cock filling your cunt in a way you couldn't fathom, though your mind has run clear of all coherent thoughts and senses the moment Simon's mouth was on yours once he came home.

But it felt like the ground crumbled right beneath you when your legs shook and voice wavered for the umpteenth time, the reddening mark on Simon's shoulder growing deeper from where you planted your teeth, your orgasming growing again and again- Only from Simon to slow down and pull himself most of the way out, pussy convulsing in a painful ache with another ruined orgasm.

If you weren't already crying then you most definitely would now. Your hands clawed at his thighs and arms that boxed you inside of his frame, words having lost all sense, eyes pleading for something yet he coo'ed at you as if he could understand your desperation. Of course he did. He heard you before he ruined your makeup and hair, before he ruined your smart brain, before he sunk himself inside of you.

"We have to be safe, lovie." was what he said. That's what he always says. And you understand that well and good but even the "barest skin" of condoms never felt close enough. You just wanted to feel him, feel all of him, but he always insisted. It made sense in the beginning, when you two were just strangers between mutuals. But it's been months now and you feel starved of touch even as he's leaving you boneless and overstimulated underneath him. Yet despite how easily he pulls tremors and moans from you, the thin barrier separating the two of you leaves you stuck in an ouroboros teeter, on the edge of ecstasy and despair, your mind unable to pull logic and pleasure together.

A jolt of electricity spiked up your spine as your clit was bumped ever so gently, the Brit pulling out fully with wet, sloppy squelches as the stretched condom pulled itself off partway, tears falling fresh on your face from feeling so utterly empty.

Your hands wandered over the expanse of muscle and pudge to ground yourself, fingers digging into his skin as you mumbled pleads of your desperations, letting his lips press to your temple as you snaked a hand between your thighs. Seeking, searching, you feel slick rubber first, a pitiful whine leaving you when you pulled at the condom weakly.

If it wasn't for the lustful haze clouding your mind you would of seen the feigned mercy give way to a smile coated in glee as he purred in your ear, letting you desperately roll away the condom to toss aside, before sinking himself inside of you again.

Every ounce of air left your lungs while Simon buried his cock to the hilt, walls clenching down around him leaving your body vibrating, overstimulation forcing your mouth open in silent whines and eyes rolling back, Simon's hips picking up with a frantic pace again, his face tucked away in your neck.

Static flooded your senses once more, the mumbled praises Simon let out into your ear lost to your own ragged moans filling the room, nails sinking into his muscles to ground yourself even for a moment as the eruption of denied orgasms finally crash down onto you, spots filling your vision. Only when you felt a warmth fill inside of you did your limps lax and a weak exhale leave you, did you bathe in the closeness, the intimacy that Simon finally gifted you despite how soft he has gotten and how hot his breath felt on your sticky skin.

You'll have to hide away the box of rubbers from now on. This was all too good to let go just yet.

I just can't stop thinking about how much you want Simon to just skip a rubber and go in raw. Of course he wants to, he just wants to be a menace first before he ruins you

I cant finish this one so uh here you go lol

[sodapopseagull]

Elves only need to trance for four hours and humans need to sleep for eight, so what I really honestly need is Gale valiantly fighting sleep so he can have a few more minutes with Astarion before bed. I'm talking full-on head bobbing, startling back awake, rereading the same sentence of his book over and over again with glazed-over eyes, nodding off mid-mumble-yap only to snort back into consciousness five minutes later and keep going like nothing happened, etc. Astarion should probably make him go to bed, but they're all snuggled up on the library couch, Gale's legs are draped over his lap, and every time he nods off his face wedges into the crook of Astarion's neck. Gale is so very warm against him too, so really it's an unkindness to them both to make him get up-

[poughkeepsies]

"experiences like this, they change us. so what changed in you?" is so underrated as a piece of buddie dialogue cause it's genuinely so. fucking tender and loving and understanding. it was eddie acknowledging all the ways buck felt changed by his death and not only validating them but also asking to know those new pieces so he can learn them and love them just the same as every other part of buck. something something if to change is what you need you can change right next to me. I love you to the core.

[champion-of-love]

sparrow and duchess are the kind of duo that clearly know they feel something for each other, but know that them ending up together won't be healthy for either of them. the kind that goes i'll stay with you until you cry out all your feelings about your destiny but i don't think i can ever muster up the courage to reach out and hold your hand. i'll be there on your wedding day, hell, i'll even walk you down the isle but i don't think i can be your groom or your bride. i'll go to bed with you after we've maybe had a little too much to drink and i'm seeing whole galaxies in your eyes, but i'll sneak out the door before the sun rises. i'll take all of the secrets and confessions and deepest darkest thoughts you've told me to my grave, but i'll ignore the biggest secret you and i have been keeping from each other all our lives

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.”

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

[msbrightsides]

H-O-T-T-O-G-O,

I-Am-Going-To-Die-Alone!

[hyperdramas]

pitapat | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol!au, boyfriend!seokmin, sleepy!seokmin, bratty!seokmin (not really, reader calls him that once), domestic fluff, kissing, pet names/nicknames (reader uses 'babe', 'seokkie'; seokmin uses 'love', 'angel'), seokmin lays in reader's lap, sleepy!seokmin is a menace (a cute one nevertheless), waking up seokmin for the day proves to be a hard task for reader, cutesy morning antics ensue

now playing: pitapat (dkdk), fromis9 (see what i did there)

a/n: that first picture did something to me when i first saw it i'm gonna use it again just you wait☝

word count: 1063

"Seokmin, please get up." Sighing, you draw the curtains open, letting the sunlight stream though as your eyes automatically squint at the bright light.

Even though today is Saturday, you and your boyfriend have a lot of errands to run—groceries, buying dinner preparations, making book returns, scheduling a house hunting day, and cleaning your house for Seokmin's parents' visit were all on the itinerary for today, and you had to start now or you'd be behind schedule.

Due to your sleepy boyfriend's antics, though, you were close to being twenty minutes late.

"Seokkie, we've got to get moving. We have to go buy groceries and dinner preparations or we're not going to have a good lunch or breakfast later today." You shook him softly as he groaned, turning away from you as he continued to sleep, unbothered with your plea.

After a few minutes of tidying your room and hoping Seokmin would wake you, you resorted to kissing him all over—his arms, his legs, his cheek, and everything—to let him know that it was time to get up and start moving.

But, of course, your loving boyfriend hadn't moved an inch.

Seokmin was a heavy sleeper on weekends, and he wasn't one to stop routines out of the blue—it was almost already 10 am, and you had wanted to leave the house at 9:40 to get a headstart, but Seokmin had still not gotten out of the bed yet.

The sun was streaming through the windows too, birds chirping and singing along with the breeze—you were surprised the sunshine boy himself wasn't stirred by the warmness on his tanned skin, but he was sleeping like a rock, sharp nose buried into the soft pillow.

As you sighed, he let out a little snore like his was purposefully taunting you and the fact you couldn't wake him up with just your words.

Shuffling to the bed (still in your pajamas since you obviously weren't going anywere), you pile on top of him seconds later, pulling a groan from out of him as he starts to wake up.

"Seokmin, we've gotta go. We've got errands to run, babe." Your hands find a comfortable place on his neck, playing with the curly locks of hair resting at the nape of his neck.

"Angel, let's stay home, please?" Seokmin goes quiet for an odd amount of seconds, as if he's still sleep, but you know he's stirring, as his deep breath becomes more shallow and his muscles tense under you.

After a few seconds, he starts to turn on his back, and grasping the memo, you dive to the side, avoiding nearly being squashed by your cute yet very built boyfriend.

"Do we have to? I'm tired, angel—so sleepy and so comfortable and warm here," Seokmin's voice is groggy from sleep, but he still affords to let out a cute whine, to which you laugh and push the strands of hair from his eyes. His eyelashes flutter against his skin before his eyes open, revealing bleary and wet dark brown eyes.

"Yes, we have to, Seokkie. You want to make your mom's seaweed to surprise her, right?" Seokmin is half-asleep, eyes sharp and half-opened as he nods slightly, barely even moving his head.

He moves slowly in his spot, finding your lap before he adjusts his head to be laying on your lap. Your hands fall on his hair, moving the strands back from his face again as he nuzzles into your lap. Giggling as his face tickles your thighs, you push him away, leaving a limp Seokmin to continue to sleep for a bit more as you check your phone quickly.

Time was slipping away from you more and more, and you sighed, putting your phone away as you turned back to the impending task at hand: waking Seokmin up.

You press your warm finger to the corner of his resting eyes to get rid of the sleepiness from his eyes. "You need to get up and get ready—you have sleepiness residue, you know."

Seokmin lets out a small giggle, lips turning into a tired half-smile as he finally takes the initiative and tries toopens his eyes, stretching like a cat as his arms tense and he groans. "Sleepiness residue? What's that?"

"You know, the small crusts that form around your eye when you sleep, Seokkie," You sigh, obviously not exasperated for real as Seokmin chuckles at your explantation. "Sleepiness residue—I've never heard it be called that."

Sighing again at your boyfriend's slow yet tired mind, you start to get up, seemingly pulled back in bed at the second you have the thought to leave. Seokmin reaches his arms out to you like a tired baby, a pout on his lips as he still struggles to open his eyes.

"I like sleepiness residue, love. I wan' more." Seokmin's words start to slur, signaling his departure again. You act quick, slipping your hand behind Seokmin's stationary head and struggle to lift him up for a second before you lay him on the headboard.

"Seokmin, please. I need you to get up, babe." You say firmly, and Seokmin glares at you, eyes sharp and half-lidded yet making your heart flutter as he frowns. "I need my coffee."

"Lee Seokmin—don't you dare get bratty with me." You say, and Seokmin mumbles something sleeplingly, adding "I'm not," at the end of whatever he just said.

And here comes the onset of "Bratty 'I need it now' Seokmin", you think to yourself.

"And you will get your coffee, babe, I swear it. Now please—will you get up?" You quesetion, and Seokmin pauses, pretty eyes rolling in annoyance as he reluctantly agrees and makes his way out of the bed and into the bathroom.

"Fine." Seokmin has a pout on his face, and you kiss the corner of his lips before kissing him directly on his lips a few times. "Thank you, babe, I appreciate it." Seokmin doesn't reply, obviously a bit cranky at the fact that you woke him up early.

Seokmin always seems to recover from his tantrum when he's had his coffee, and you had a surprise waiting for him—two iced americanos and a pack of warm powered donuts at Seokmin's favorite coffee place.

"I love you, Seokmin. I hope you know that, babe." You remind him, and he nods, mumbling a sad "I know." as his mouth is still stuffed with a toothbrush. Pecking his lips—and earning the softest, cutest smile from your boyfriend you've think you've seen—the two of you finally get ready for the day.

taglist: @kyeomssant, @realmofclouds, @oojiehae, @kstrucknet (comment to be added!) || comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! don't be shy to pop up in my inbox either <3

[astrobei]

mike developing a propensity for laying with his head on will’s chest while they’re alone because he likes listening to will’s heartbeat and feeling how solid and steady and safe will is under him — we know her, we love her, i will be thinking about this concept until i die.

more specifically, though, the first time they fall asleep this way — mike, dozing off on will’s chest, feeling will’s heartbeat slow and his breathing even out and jolting awake, panicked for the briefest second before he realizes what’s happening. the movement startles will awake too. he blinks and looks up, a little disoriented, only to find mike staring down at him with wide eyes, because the realization has just struck him: not only is will safe and okay in a physical sense, but he feels safe around mike — he’s happy and comforted and trusts mike enough to fall asleep next to him. being absolutely bowled over by that conclusion vs. will who thinks mike is so stupid for ever assuming it was a question at all

[luvrxbunny]

joel would fuck you silly then force you to ride him so he can watch you struggle

this was supposed to end before the cut 😭

“c’mon, baby. you’re never gonna get me t’cum like that.” he grips your hips roughly and fucks you relentlessly for just a second. “like that. okay?” he asks and let’s go. you nod to him eagerly, trying your best to fuck him the way he wants but your brain too mushy to follow through with the action.

you lift yourself on his cock and your legs tremble as you hold yourself up before you drop back down. the shock that runs through your stomach as his dick slides right against your g-spot has you collapsing onto him. your hands wrap around his neck without a second thought, so used to him taking over and helping you. but his hands are tucked behind his head and you can barely fit your hands. “joel—“

you drag out the syllables of his name like a whine and he chuckles at you, heating up your stomach with embarrassment. “what, darlin’?” you whine at his southern drawl, at the pet name and bury your face in his chest. “i need your help. can’t- i can’t do it on my own.” you pout and look up at him, hoping your puppy dog eyes are working properly.

judging but the shuddering sigh that falls his lips we can assume they were working. his hands come to your hips and slam you onto his cock at a painful pace. his eyes are focused on where the two of you connect and little grunts are falling from his lips. “such a fuckin’ princess. can’t do anythin’ for y’self, huh?”

his words have you clenching on his cock, giving a tremble to his voice that only pushes you closer to the edge. “n-need everyone to do stuff for you, hmm? too prissy to put any work in?” you shake your head at him with a moan. “m’just too weak ri-right now, joey. don’ be mean.” your voice is a light whine in his ear as you cling to him.

“mhm. it’s okay darlin’.” his hand comes to cradle the back of your head and his ear gets close to yours. “love that you need my help so bad. can’t get off without me— can’t please yourself the way i can.” his hand grips your jaw and forces your eyes to his “you need me”

his brow furrows as he tries not to cum at the way your eyelids flutter and your hand comes around to play with your clit “i’ll always need you.” he nods at you with a low groan as you squeeze his cock.

he stops moving in you, letting you clench around him as you play with your clit. he holds your face in place and watched how it contorts with pleasure, how your expression becomes more pained and watery the more you suffocate his cock. his eyes look you up and down once, gauging how close you are and that’s what breaks the tension building in your stomach.

the second you’re squeezing around him he groans your name into your face, his head leans forward to crash your lips together as he slowly fills you with his cum. he tenses and twitches against you as he does, muttering a small sounds that resemble “my fuckin’ princess. so perfect f’me” as he thrusts into you.

[suddencolds]

just read this snippet in a vanilla fic where character A sneezes and character B unthinkingly lends them their jacket. only, A realizes after the jacket is on that it's feverishly warm, and they lean over and feel B's forehead... 😵‍💫

what lack of self preservation would you need to have to lend someone your jacket so unthinkingly when you're the one with a fever?! also to feel someone's fever through the residual warmth of a clothing article?? the scene will not leave my mind

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Father Mulcahy being a spin the bottle champion is something that's so important to me actually.

[soars22]

Missa stirred from his sleep slowly. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up, exactly, but the world felt… strange. The air hung flat and oddly empty in his ears. He didn’t like it.

He blinked and opened his eyes. He was in Rose’s sanctuary. He grinned softly; he hadn’t thought to ever see it again. Phil must have dragged him here in his sleep, as he had so many times before. Missa turned to the side to greet him and stopped short, his blood going cold.

Philza was dead.

Or, not quite dead, exactly, but very close to it. He was barely breathing and his skin, when Missa reaches out to feel his pulse, is cold. “No,” Missa breathes. “Chayanne?” He calls out desperately, turning to the bed where his son lays. There’s no movement, but that doesn’t mean anything. Chayanne’s a deep sleeper, he’s always been that way, it doesn’t mean-

It can’t mean-

“Chayanne,” he hisses, shaking the egg. “Chayanne, por favor, please-“

There’s no response. Frantic now, Missa scrambles over to his daughter. “Talullah, mi hija, wake up, get up! Talullah! Wake up!!”

“I don’t think they can,” a voice says quietly behind him. Missa whirls around to see the shimmering image of a woman with long dark hair watching him. “But-why?” The woman shrugs. “I don’t know. I can barely reach them, even here where I’m strongest.”

Missa blinks. “So… so they’re-dead?” The woman regards him sadly. “Yes. You need to let this happen, Missa. It’s the only way to reach them.”

“What do you mean? Reach them?” The woman cocks an eyebrow at him. “You are a reaper, aren’t you? Surely you understand how this works. I’m limited in my power here, but with you…”

Missa’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh. Yes, yes, I understand.” He hesitates. “It’s… it’s been a while, since I’ve…” The woman smiles. “Yes. That’s why I’m here, to help you. I’m Rose.”

���Ooh…. So you’re Rose? Phil’s told me about you.” Rose laughs. “So I’ve heard. I’ll have to tease him later.” She holds out a transparent hand. “Shall we?”

Later-much later-Phil blinks open his eyes. He feels light, weightless, and the aches that have wracked his body have eased. He sits up and shakes a few stray leaves from his hair. “Chayanne?” He asks and coughs to clear his throat. “Lullah?”

“They’re here,” Missa’s voice sounds from behind him. “They’re just resting with Rose.” Phil turns to stare at Missa. “With Rose? She’s here?” Missa nods. “They’re just waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me for what?” Phil asks as he lets Missa pull him to his feet. “To move on,” Missa replies.

“To-oh,” Phil says quietly. “So… so we’re not waking up, then.” Missa shakes his head. “Not here; not exactly. Rose says she’s got bodies prepared for you somewhere else. I’m just here to lead your souls.”

Phil frowns. “Lead our souls… back to my old world, I imagine, or something like it. And you’ll go with us, right?” Missa stares at him. “I will?” Phil rolls his eyes. “Yes, dumbass. You’re part of our family now, you aren’t leaving. You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh. Uh-“

“Just shut up and let it happen, Missa,” Phil laughs. “You aren’t letting go of us that easy. I’m not about to let my Missa be homeless again.” Missa’s eyes are wide as he mouths the phrase ‘my Missa.’

Phil tugs on Missa’s hand and starts leading him down to the distant shapes of Rose, Lullah, and Chayanne. “Come on; let’s go home. We’ll have time to talk about it later.”

Home. It sounds nice; Missa’s never had one before, at least not one he remembers. He can’t wait to finally build one with the people he loves.

[quatregats]

CS Forester once again trying and failing to write this guy in a way that is even remotely heterosexual