#i'm so sorry for this i just have SO many thoughts about this and had to get them all down

[seungcheorry]

even though the sun is starting to peek from the curtains and the city is starting to buzz from its natural chaos, that's not what wakes you up.

at first, it's just a sneeze; then it's a tiny, shy cough, followed by a groan. you open just one of your eyes, sighing when you see soonyoung all wrapped up in your covers - that's never a good sign, god only knows how that man hates too many layers covering his body when he's asleep.

and then, another sneeze - but, this time, he wakes up too.

"are you sick?", you ask soonyoung.

"um... i think so", but his voice is raspy so you know so.

as if a lightning had hit your body, you jump from the bed, covers flying in the air. soonyoung is to stunned to speak, watching as you run down the stairs as if he's contagious... which he might be.

"hey! i thought you loved me!", he says as loud as he can, but he has a sore throat and forcing it too much makes him cough.

soonyoung buries his face on your pillow, already planning his whole speech of how rejected he feels right now. but it doesn't take too long for you to come back, hands full of tissues, medicines, a bottle of water and, wait, is that a kettle sound coming from the kitchen?

"i love you, dumbass", you sigh, throwing everything on top of your bed. "but i told you, you shouldn't have been working so much lately, your body would give in at some point."

soonyoung rolls his eyes, sitting on the bed and shivering when the covers slide down his skin. god, he must have a fever too.

"what is this?"

"medicines i've been stocking up for this very moment. you're stubborn, i'm a well prepared person, maybe that's why we work just fine together."

soonyoung is about to say something about how cute you are, but another sneeze comes and when he opens his eyes again, you're offering him a tissue and a yellow pill.

"here, take this. i'm gonna call jihoon and your manage and check if the water has boiled yet, i'll make you some tea."

"i don't like tea", soonyoung groans again, but does as you say.

"too bad, you're drinking some."

soonyoung takes the pill and gulps some water down his sore throat. you're about to leave the room, but a call of your name makes you stop in your track.

"i love you, thank you."

you smile. "i love you too, sneezy."

a/n: i'm sick and i'm very self-indulgent, i'm sorry.

[cookiedough77]

hey so, more peacock!adrien au uhm

oh you want the rest of the conversation? oh here you go, read under the cut!

(sorry if the writing isnt my best, lowkey rushed it)

Luka waves a hand dismissively. "Ohhh, don't worry about that, you're handsome even just in plain old pajamas." He leans in closer, a smile widening across his face.

Adrien's face flushes, and he holds the bouquet closer. "I'm not dressed."

Adrien crooks a brow. "Well I can't get up to dance, so..." He trails off.

"Thennn, it's just a party! Not everyone dances at a dance, we can just hang out here." Luka pulled up his other leg up on the bed, sitting crisscrossed.

If Father had seen it, he would be angry about shoes being on the bed. But Adrien has always liked Luka for the very reasons Father wouldn’t like Luka. Of course there were other things, but this just made Adrien like him more.

Plus, Luka's shoes were nice. Actually, seeing Luka in a suit is nice, he looks great.

A giddy smile comes across Adrien's face. "Does that mean snacks? Parties always have snacks."

"Oh- I did plan on that- Too worried about getting the bouquet on time. I can go get some real quick if you want?"

Adrien giggles. "Not yet, I still want you here." He looks down at the bouquet crinkling in his hands. "You did all this for me?"

Luka shifts closer, pointing to the flowers in the wrapping paper. "I knew you liked roses, and I know you like orange, so, orange roses."

"There's red roses too." Adrien smirks, shifting the bouquet to show Luka.

"Well." Luka clicks his tongue. "You like romantic too, needed classic red roses."

Adrien just smiles, staring down at the flowers.

Luka continues, "When's your birthday?"

"What?"

"When's your birthday? I can do more then. You haven't had a birthday come up yet, aaannnddd I know it's gotta be some time."

Adrien rolls his eyes. "October 13th."

Luka nods, taking in the information. "You've never had a proper birthday party, right? That's why the bubbler happened?"

Adrien pursed his lips. "Yeah, Nino was upset Father said no."

"That was before you were Indigo. What did akuma attacks feel like then?" Luka tilts his head.

"Life felt... Normal then. I was just glad my Father got me an actual gift, not some lousy pen for the 3rd year in a row." Adrien lets out a huff of amusement. "It was one of the times I thought Father cared."

"I'll get you a gift."

Adrien's face felt flush, he tried to conjure up a proper smile, playing it off as cockiness. "You already got me a gift."

"I'll get you more, birthdays are usually filled with them."

"That sounds... nice." He breathes a sigh of endearment.

Adrien ghosts his fingers over the flower petals. They feel soft, and he rubs one of the petals in between the pads of his fingers. He'd apply more pressure if he could, but that would rip the petal, and Luka got these for him as a gift.

His face drops, because he loves gifts, Luka loves giving him gifts.

He can't let Luka continue doing this for him.

He's not going to make it to his next birthday.

"Adrien? What is it?" Adrien blinks, looking up at Lukas concerned face.

"Luka I..." He glances back down at the bouquet. "We can't pretend this will last forever."

Luka is quiet for a moment. His face softens. "You deserve to be happy."

"And you dont?"

Silence again. The soft sound of Adrien touching the single petal back and forth in his fingers fills his ears. 

He shouldn't have said that. They have talked about this before, many times, but tonight wasn't a time for that. Luka was trying to do something sweet, he didn't need a reminder their relationship is on the clock. 

Adrien doesn't want to be reminded of that either. He's just reminded of it every time he coughs, every time he even attempts to stand, to get up.

Adrien exhales. "I’m sorry, you were doing something nice and I ruined it."

"No no, It’s ok." Luka stares down at his lap. "I just meant... We deserve to be happy, even if it's not permanent."

"That doesn't bother you?"

Luka swallowed. "Just... Don't worry about it."

A petal rips, and Adrien bites his lip. Luka doesn't need this, he doesn't need a doomed relationship, he doesn't need someone who will let him get hurt.

But he also wants to indulge Luka.

He knows he's close to the end, he knows any day, hell any moment, it'll be over. He can't get out of bed without wobbling, he feels weak, he can feel his body wanting to give up.

"How about those snacks, huh?" Adrien swiftly says, changing the conversation.

Luka blinks and drops his feet to the floor, still facing Adrien. "Uh, yeah, I can do that." He leans forward, pushing adriens bangs out of the way and kisses his forehead. 

He then backs off the bed, smiling now. "I'll be back, I know what you like." He starts walking backwards, like he wants to keep looking at Adrien, and it makes Adrien smile.

"Plagg, claws out." With an electric green light, Kitty Khaos finally turns around and climbs outside the window.

Adrien sighs, and closes his eyes, crossing his arms over his knees and pressing his forehead into them. 

[mmmilkweed]

There's no winning with these people. I'm sorry you're going through this. You're getting dogpiled and don't have the brain capacity to write a full apology yourself, so you get a friend to help so you can address it quicker. People take this as insincerity. But if you'd taken enough time to gather yourself you'd be accused of trying to brush it off.

This is what I mean when I say they will never be satisfied. First it's a nothing burger white lily comic. Then it's the discord. You take steps to fix it. But people don't think you've groveled enough or in the right way, so now it's a nothing burger au about having an unrequited crush on your teacher. You apologize. You didn't grovel hard enough. Now they accuse your first two apologies of being fake. You write one yourself. You didn't grovel hard enough.

Humans are social, and rejection hits harder than acceptance. We're not really meant to be able to process this level of interaction. And getting brigaded by what feels like the entire fandom (it isn't. I know it feels like it is, but these are VERY online people) is gonna send your animal brain into panic mode. This will pass. Both the accusations and the feeling.

You'll get through this.

the first one WAS written by me, and then made to look 'professional' by my friends. The second, I kept stressing how I'm afraid of my words coming apart, like they have many times before, I'm sorry im using your kind message to talk about this, but i think i'll break again if i don't tell at least someone.

i was scared and i felt alone

i just woke up

is it so wrong that i took the help form a native english speaker?

I saw it only as a template, a structure to keep my wandering words at bay.

had i not taken the template and made it my own? I can't explain enough how i could not trust myself to find the words i needed, or the thoughts to express myself. The agony from a day before bleeding directly into the morning. Funny thing about that - today i woke up weeping, dreaming my apology hurt even more people. I'm already dreading going to bed tonight, knowing i'll wake up in the same state tomorrow. And here, have the notes of the first apology. The thoughts, the feelings are ALL MINE! I simply no longer trust myself to type them. Paranoia has me in its clutches, I'm looking over every word i type, even now, trying to see if there's a second meaning behind it.

Oh Anon, I'm sorry I'm using you as an excuse to vent about this, I really am.

I thought a lot, and i mean a lot about your message. I've cried several times about it now. ''and rejection hits harder than acceptance.''

Even though my discord was flooded with kindness, with messages that truly did help a little.. I still feel so utterly alone. I can't even look at my wife without feeling guilty. I can't look at my contemporaries without feeling like a wolf in sheeps clothing, even when so many of them told me they see i had no ill intentions. I went to church today - I could not stand before God, I stayed in my pew holding back tears. I begged for his forgiveness too, even when I know he knows my intentions were never to hurt anyone, even when I know he stood beside me through all of this. I feel like one of his lambs, left behind by the herd. No, not left behind. I am willingly staying behind because I'm afraid of hurting people again. There's only a small resemblance of peace within me, knowing He'll stay behind with me. I'm sorry, I know listening to religious people can be a trigger to some

i hope you can forgive the rant. I thought I could do well isolated, but i still find myself panicked and.. alone.

[omnisvirlupussicfiatdraco]

this always terrifies me a little bit because I love all fans who aren't out and out assholes.

Due to leftover bad childhood experience embarrassment however, I like to check the level of fan I'm interacting with so I can match the vibe.

I've friends who are casual fans of NuWho to people who literally knows enough about the Extended Universe that I would bet money on them in any quiz/trivia competition.

All of the people along this spectrum are valid, all of them are awesome.

The problem I found is that I dabble in a lot of the fandom and I get gremlin-finding-a-shiny excited about anything related to the show; a prop, a location, cosplay, actors or story trivia, "I've heard X audio", I've met Y companion. Genuinely I danced on the spot visiting a filming location for Classic Who when I realised where I was, in a public place hopping about like the floor was lava. And some people, just sort of don't. Which is absolutely fine!

But I've had many experiences where I do get super excited, but the people I'm with (also fans/or not) don't. It used to hurt because I thought I'd fucked up, now I'm an adult and I just don't care if I misread the vibe and get overexcited when other's don't. but the checking is still there. What Doctors do you like? Have you read the books? Checked out Big Finish blah blah.

But I found something out a few months back that genuinely made me sick.

Context; I was talking to a woman (I'm a man) my age and asked stuff like this to kind of gauge the vibe as I say.

I learn some info which directly indicates flat out that there is no damn way I'm out nerding this lady on Doctor Who. I am suitably impressed and internally go "Right, you can get full gremlin now, these peeps are safe." because they're 100% going gremlin mode with me and it's awesome.

I found out later that the tone shift from me was so distinct that it seemed like I became interested in the conversation after I found it out, because it meant who I was talking to passed some arbitrary test I'd set for being a proper fan.

And now the bit that makes me sick typing it; that's not new.

Men in the fandom gatekeeping everyone else for not being a real fan of the show particularly women.

I'll be clear, I'm not upset that this was thought of me. It's not what I'm about, fuck gatekeeping, you love the thing I love so we can love it together, but it made sense, given context.

We cleared it up when this was explained to me so it's all good but... holy fuck if it's that ubiquitous a problem being encountered that it seems like the default? What the fuck kind of nonsense is that? In a show as diversely crewed, cast and storied as Doctor Who is. With values as obvious from day one in 1963 and a runtime as long as Doctor Who has. Why the fuck is fake fan/real fan a question? Especially what the fuck are we (men) doing gatekeeping it from everyone else? Sorry this one got away from me @the-worms-in-your-bones. Please feel free tell me to get this off your post if you like.

The thing about doctor who is that there’s so much of it that you can never truly know what someone mean when they say they’re a doctor who fan, like you could meet someone who’s favorite doctor is 11 and they’ve only watched new who or you could meet someone who hasn’t watched anything with the doctor in it in a year and who’s favorite character is someone you’ve never even heard of

[howlingday]

Everybody on Beacon thinks that Weiss Schnee hates Jaune Arc, but that really far from the truth. The truth both Jaune and Weiss are childhood friends that are secretly dating, mostly beacuse Jaquess sees the Arc family not as a noble family of heroes like Nicholas Schnee saw the Arcs, but peasants that are skiled with the sword. So Jaquess dosen't let Weiss see Jaune for years, until the meet again in Beacon.

Another Time, Another Life

Knightshade

"I see you've been playing out in the snow all day." Nicholas chuckled. "And where are your gloves, young man?"

"I... I forgot." Jaune meekly answered.

"Huh?" His father lifted his hand to his ear. "What's that? Couldn't quite hear ya! I'm gettin' old, ya know!"

"I forgot." Jaune said a little louder. His father sighed, shaking his head, though his smile never faded. "I'm sorry."

"You think you're sorry? What do you think's gonna happen to me when your mother sees you without your fingers?" He took off his glove and held his son's hand between his index finger and thumb. "I don't think my hand's small enough to match yours."

"It was my fault, Mr. Arc." Nicholas turned around to see Weiss, his employer's youngest daughter, standing close by with her hands folded over lap. She knelt forward a bit. "I apologize."

Looking behind her, he found the family butler, Klein, with a pleased look on his face. Even a princess needs to be raised right, right? That she doesn't end up-

"Apoligize? For what?!" -like that. Nicholas watched as the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company, Weiss' father, and his current employer held a twisted sneer beneath his burly moustache. "It's hardly your fault. If anything, it's the boy's own foolishness that brings his own misfortune!"

"Well, kids will be kids." Nicholas said, resisting the urge to deck the man who just insulted his kid. Unfortunately, lien was tight and the patriarch of the Schnee name paid more than well enough for the family.

"Perhaps your children, but my daughters, and my son, will bring glory to our family name, rather than frostbite from engaging in childish nonsense." He straightened a bit. "Why, Weiss is clearly smart enough to know that we Schnees are resistant to all types of cold weather!" The urge to punch him became harder and harder to resist the more they talked on it, so Nicholas yielded.

"Is there more work tonight?"

"Indeed." He extended an arm out towards the den at the end of the hallway. "You're familiar with my office?"

"Yeah." Nicholas knelt to his son. "Get those hands warmed up. I wanna hear all about the fun you had when I get back."

"Okay. I love you, Dad."

"Love you, too, Jaune." Nicholas walked away with a smile.

Weiss stood nearby, looking expectantly to her father for words of praise, or comfort, or anything. But instead, he passed her by, giving little if any attention after his boasting of the family name. She resisted the urge to call out to him. She knew better than to do that now.

"If I may, Miss Weiss, but I believe your father is right about one thing." Klein stepped in. "Your family is naturally resistant to cold. Perhaps even to the point of taking the cold away from others?"

Weiss perked at this. She nodded to Klein before getting close to Jaune. Without warning, she held his hands between hers and closed her eyes, willing herself to take the cold from him. And while she was red in the face from effort, Jaune was flush from something else.

He'd heard many a tale about knights and princesses, but normally it was the knight holding the princess' hands like this. She rubbed her hands over his before pulling away to turn them over. She turned to call for Klein, only to realize he was standing behind her. And like a mind-reader, he answered what she thought to ask him.

"He seems to be warm enough now. What do you think, Mister Jaune?" He nodded and Weiss released his hands, backing away and smiling. "Now, what would the two of you like for lunch? We have the greatest chefs in the world, and I will not let a day's worth of play end with empty tummies."

As the two followed Klein, Jaune glanced now and then to Weiss' hand. He could remember how soft and warm they were. True, they were warmer than his hands because he was in the snow without gloves, but she also went without gloves, but her hands weren't as chilled, nor as red, as his.

"What's wrong?" Jaune realized he'd been staring too long when Weiss was suddenly in his face. "Are you sick?"

"N-No, I... I was just..."

"Miss Weiss, I believe his hand is cold again." Klein explained with a grin.

"Already?!" Weiss replied in shock. "Here!" She gripped his hand tightly in hers. "Anytime you feel cold, just let me know, okay?"

Jaune gulped, then gave a nod. "O-Okay!"

--------------------------------------------------

A loud noise awoke Weiss in her bed. She gave a gasp, looking to her door, then saw a shadow moving on the other side. Fearing a burglar, she held her breath, diving deep into her covers in hopes that they would ignore her. It was then she noticed she was alone.

Jaune was sleeping next to her, but now he was gone.

She heard shouting that sounded like her father get closer to the door. As he passed, she heard him clear as day.

"...YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, ARC!" His voice, though still angry, grew softer as he passed. "I'll see to it that your family never works in..."

What happened to Jaune? The boy she'd known for only so short as a month was gone in the night, and her father shouting and cursing his family name wasn't pure coincidence, she thought. Steeling her nerves, she leapt from her bed and hurried to the door. Opening it, she found her sister, Winter, standing outside.

"Go back to bed, Weiss."

"But sister-"

"Go to bed, Weiss." The older sibling repeated, this time much firmer. "I'll tuck you in and explain everything."

Unable to resist, Weiss retreated into her room with her big sister shutting the door behind her. As she climbed into bed, Winter was tossing the blanket back before draping them over her little sister. She then climbed up and sat next to her.

"Where's Jaune?"

"He's gone, Weiss. His father came and took him."

"When will he be back?" Winter was silent. "Sister?"

"He... won't, Weiss. Not after tonight."

"What?!" Weiss sat up, only to be met by Winter's grip on her shoulders. She could feel the tears building in her eyes. "Was it something Mr. Arc did? Why is father yelling at him?"

"Mr. Arc did... nothing. So his employment with father is terminated as of a few minutes ago. I was worried when I saw him enter your room, but I'm relieved to see he hasn't hurt you."

"Why would he hurt me?! Sister, you're not making any sense!" Weiss tried to shake herself free, only to be met with a firm jostle by the elder Schnee.

"Stay still, Weiss!" Winter barked. "Jaune is gone, and he's never coming back!"

At this, Weiss stopped fighting back. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she turned in towards her pillow as she did her best to hide her anger and frustration and sadness. She felt the bed shift and heard the door open.

"Good night, sister." Winter said. "And... I'm sorry."

Once the door shut, Weiss didn't bother keeping quiet anymore.

--------------------------------------------------

"Dad... Where are we going?"

"Home, son."

"But... I didn't get to say good-bye to Weiss." His father was quiet, making small hisses and grunts. "Dad?"

"She's... She was sleeping when I picked you up. Did you say good night to her?"

"Yeah?"

"That's... good." His father nodded, lifting his hand to point up. "Because, uh, remember when grandma passed away? We had to say good-bye because good-byes are forever! But a good night means you'll see them another day!"

"Another day?" Jaune blinked. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. It was still dark outside. "When are we coming back?"

"I... can't come back."

"Why not?" A wind blew, making Jaune huddle his coat closer to him. His father opened his coat and brought his son inside. "Dad?"

"Jaune, there's... There's bad people here in Atlas. And there's a lot of problems that need to be fixed. Problems that I can't fix, but maybe you can one day."

"Bad people?"

"Mhm. Bad, terrible, awful people who make their money off the misery of others... and making sure they stay miserable." He shook his head. "I don't want to be that kind of person, Jaune. I want to make people happy. Make them smile. Because that's what a hero does, Jaune. And me... I'm no hero."

Nicholas couldn't tell his son the truth. How could he tell him in a way that he could understand? Not only in a manner appropriate for a boy his age, but in a way that doesn't make him sound like some sort of evil henchman. Jacques Schnee made a fool of him, sending him to a Faunus rally to act as a strike-breaker for peaceful protesters, and when he realized why he was there, he'd had more than enough. Grimm were one thing, and so were street punks and hijackers, but he refused to be the kind of monster who attacked innocent people asking for their fair share.

"...You're my hero, Dad."

Nicholas nearly broke as his son hugged him. Thankfully, the bullhead arrived to blow any tears away.

--------------------------------------------------

"Yeah, and we can paint our nails and talk about tall, blond, and scraggly over there~!"

Jaune perked as he heard that. Was someone talking about him? He looked over and saw Ruby talking, or rather being talked down to with an overbearing girl in a white dress. Her long, white ponytail reminded him of his childhood friend, but there was no way she was the same girl. It had to be a coincidence.

"Wow, really?!" Ruby perked up.

The other girl was quiet for a moment. "No." Yeah, definitely not her. It would be pretty weird if she just happened to be at the same school he was after all these years. Like one of those sappy rom-com stories some of his sisters loved to read.

All thoughts stopped when a man took the stage to give a speech.

--------------------------------------------------

"Stop."

"H-Huh?"

"What did you say your name was?"

"Uh... Jaune. Jaune Arc."

"Jaune... Arc... As in the son of Nicholas Arc, the former sellsword of the Schnee Family?"

"I... take it you're not a fan?"

"Hardly. Your father was responsible for the most heartbreaking years of my life."

Jaune paled. When he was finally old enough to be told, he was horrified to hear what his father was asked to do. He was glad to hear his father finally said no, but there was a part of him that feared just how far into this business he went before he finally said no and left the Schnee Mansion.

"Oh, gosh, I'm... I'm so sorry about my dad." Jaune held up his hands defensively. "Whatever he did to your family, I promise to help you however I can. I give you my word, and an Arc never goes back on his word!"

"Really?" She stepped into his guard. "And did your father give his word when he fled my home in the middle of the night?"

"Uh-"

"Did your father give his word when he stole my only friend out of my life?"

"H-Hang on a sec-"

"Well, did your father give his word?!"

Jaune had his back to the wall, both literally and figuratively. Everyone was staring as this girl, half his size, had him pinned and fearing for his life. When she stepped away, he didn't have it in him to relax. She glanced down before turning away.

"At least you're wearing gloves this time."

"...Weiss?"

"I expect a full explanation AFTER initiation." She walked away. "You better make it in."

"Uh... Sure thing..."

"...I'm Pyrrha, by the way. It was nice to meet you, Jaune~!"

--------------------------------------------------

"So that's what happened." Weiss set her cup down. "No one ever told me what my father asked of yours, but to think he'd stoop so low."

"Yeah, and it doesn't look like he's getting better, either."

"No?" Weiss lifted her brow. "And here I thought the threats of embargo and discrimination within his facilities were points on the buck by now."

"Points on the..."

"Oh, right." Weiss straightened. "I forgot that we've been separated for so long. I've picked up a few hobbies."

"Like what?"

"Stag hunting, for one."

"What's stag hunting?"

"Hunting stags." The two sat silently for a moment. "Deer. Stags are deer."

"Oh..." He cleared his throat. "I've, uh, been reading comic books."

"I see."

The two became silent once more. Making it into Beacon was the easy part, apparently, because talking to each other now felt so... off. Were all long lost friendships like this? If so, how did they ever reunite in the story books? Some people just clicked after seeing each other after a long time, but this? There was no click. Just two people, sitting together, for the first time in probably ten years.

"Oh, uh... Good morning."

"Excuse me?" Weiss looked at the clock on the wall. "It's a half hour past noon."

"Y-Yeah, but..." He sighed. "When my dad took me, he said it was good I didn't say good-bye, because good-bye is forever. Saying good night means you'll see them again another day." He gave a sheepish grin. "And, well, good morning."

Weiss smiled. "Good morning."

As he chuckled and smiled, there was the click.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 37.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: I'm very sorry that this took so long to write. A lot of things are happening irl that need my attention, and my sleep has been prioritized because of how little I actually sleep. And i have a massive headache today, so that's why there is no story summary ;-; I'm sorry yall Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 34 / chapter 35 / chapter 36

Knock, Knock, Knock

In the sleeping quarters of the Wakandan Citadel, Steve Rogers had been drawing in his temporary quarters when the knocks came at his door. The second he opened the door, Bucky came in with a frown, pushing past Steve and turning.

"We really need to talk."

Steve's eyebrows shot up slightly, but not at Bucky's words. It was (Y/n), who was looking small, cheeks wet and eyes puffy from crying. She was following closely after Bucky, looking nervous and distant as she glanced around the room, and Steve glanced at Bucky with a look of confusion before shutting the door.

Wordlessly, (Y/n) sat down where Steve had been drawing, her eyes drawn to his notebook, and though Steve didn't mind, his ears still turned a little red from the self-consciousness that tickled at his mind.

"What's going on?"

Bucky looked over at (Y/n) before looking at Steve with a stressed look on his face.

"I'm really doubting having Raynor here. I know she just wants to help, but I don't think her methods are going to be helpful. She's too pushy."

Steve immediately sighed, his shoulders falling slightly, and he sat down on his bed as Bucky paced slightly, Steve watching him closely. Steve mulled over his words for a moment before he settled on asking.

"Alright, why do you think that?"

Bucky stopped pacing, looking at Steve with a frown and talking quietly despite being aware that (Y/n)'s enhanced hearing was going to pick up his words either way.

"Raynor sent her into a panic attack. It was so bad, (Y/n) practically launched me across the room with a single punch. One."

"She hit you?"

Steve glanced at (Y/n), watching the way her fingers ghosted over his artwork; her eyes staring sadly at the page as her ears pricked to listen. Bucky immediately said, raising a hand to gesture at Steve.

"She didn't do it intentionally. She had a flashback, and I fucked up."

At the sound of (Y/n) sniffling, Steve glanced at her, his shoulders falling slightly.

"I-I didn't mean to...I just...I..."

Her voice trailed off, and Bucky sat down next to her, the woman looking up at him with the saddest look he had ever seen her wear. Steve watched quietly as Bucky comforted her softly, his voice just above a whisper as he spoke.

"It's okay, I promise. I'm not mad. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing for touching you without warning."

(Y/n) then shook her head as she looked down at Steve's artwork again, a doubtful look within her eyes as she murmured.

"I don't belong here...I...I should've...went back."

Her words made Steve and Bucky's blood run cold, and Steve finally sat down across from (Y/n), who refused to look the man in the eyes as he spoke.

"You were scared and had a trauma response. That's not a crime...but what would be a crime is to go back where they would make you feel the way that you did in the moment over and over again."

(Y/n) was quiet, blinking silent tears out of her eyes, and she whispered brokenly.

"I remember them...I remember all of them...all the people I...I had to hurt..."

Blood on her hands, the taste of flesh in her mouth, the sound of a man screaming as she tore his throat out with her bare hands.

"I don't...want to do that to anyone again...but...I don't know how to complete this mission...I...I don't know how to proceed."

She sniffled and gently thumbed the artwork again, and Steve shared a look with Bucky. They weren't sure what to say at first, silently communicating with each other before Bucky sighed.

"I remember them all too."

(Y/n) glanced up at him, staying quiet for a moment as his words struck a chord in her, and Bucky continued, looking down at his hands as he messed with his vibranium fingers.

"I dream about them, think about them...sometimes, I'll even hear them too...see them...feel them."

Bucky then glanced up at (Y/n), stating earnestly.

"But we owe it to them...to make amends for what we've done. To try, even if it's hard. We might not know how to complete this mission, but as long as we do, that's what matters."

"But what if I fail? What if I never...make things right?"

Steve then gently spoke up, his voice gentle as he looked at (Y/n) the way a brother would their younger sibling.

"You can, and you're going to. Everyone here believes in you and wants to help you achieve that. It's not going to be easy, but even if it's hard, we're going to make it."

(Y/n) as quiet for a moment before she asked quietly.

"Do I even deserve it?"

Steve sighed slightly before he offered carefully.

"I think that's a matter of opinion, not fact. And if you ask me or Bucky? I think the answer will always be yes."

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed a bit before she looked down at her hands, whispering shakily as tears filled her eyes.

"I remember...a target...HYDRA effectuates no witnesses...but...the witness that was with my target...they were just a child."

Her breathing became shallow as she stared down at Steve's artbook, her sketched eyes looking back at her.

"He begged me not to kill her...used her as his shield, but if she had lived and told someone...HYDRA would be at risk. So...I wrapped my hands around her skull, and I squeezed and squeezed until her head cracked and her blood gushed around my hands...they tried to erase me...but no matter how much they tried, I couldn't stop seeing her."

(Y/n) then looked up at Steve, her face contorting into a serious expression as the tears fell down her cheeks.

"Can you still say yes now?"

The room was silent; so quiet that if a pin had dropped, it would sound like an explosion. (Y/n) was still looking Steve in the eyes, but her lips were quivering; hands trembling, and she had to look away. She didn't understand why she felt so angry, but there was a part of her that was furious.

Her fists were clenched, the fear and confusion coursing through her veins like an intrusion, and (Y/n) clenched her jaw as her heart began to pound within her chest. It was quiet for another moment, the only sound of that of the blood rushing through her ears, and suddenly, Steve spoke firmly.

"I can't forgive what HYDRA made you do, but I can forgive you."

Her eyes flicked to his for a second before her lip trembled. The tears hit her like a freight train; the emotions that were trying to spill through finally breaking through the wall, and she began to cry quietly. Her fists clenched again, and Bucky shared a look with Steve before he gradually placed his hand on her shoulder.

(Y/n) didn't flinch. Instead, she allowed Bucky to comfort her through his touch; the warmth of his hand contrasting greatly with the cold that was permeating through her flesh and bones. Steve felt horrible for making her cry, but Steve couldn't lie. It wasn't in his nature to be anything but honest.

But honesty always came with a price.

Bucky spoke softly, his tone twinged with sadness and regret that haunted his words like an unforgiving ghost.

"We can't change what we've done...we can't take back our actions...but we have to take responsibility and be accountable."

(Y/n) glanced down at her lap then, her face blanking slightly, and although both Steve and Bucky became confused by the way she seemed to completely shut down, they were both patient; simply sitting with her in silence as she slowly processed both of their words collectively.

Sighing, Bucky then sat back and took his hand off of (Y/n)'s shoulder, glancing at Steve, and Steve slowly gestured to the door with a nod of his head. Standing up, both men stepped out of Steve's temporary sleeping quarters to talk quietly. Steve's shoulders were tensed, his blonde brows furrowed, and he placed his hands on his hips as he turned to Bucky.

"Bucky, I really think you should let Dr. Raynor take over on this."

Bucky sighed heavily, staring at the door that was separating the men from (Y/n), and Bucky said quietly.

"I don't know, Steve."

Steve shook his head, his eyes gentle but his words firm.

"Listen, I know that you care about her, Bucky, but it's starting to get dangerous. We're too close to this-to her. If we push too hard, we're going to push her away."

"So, what, you want me to just not care?"

Steve gave Bucky an annoyed look, retorting.

"That's now what I am saying, and you know it."

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head as he quipped.

"Sounds a lot like you just said that."

Steve sighed, giving the man a moment to relax before he stated.

"Bucky, I know that this means a lot to you. I'm not saying to walk away, but I am telling you to be careful. You can't pull (Y/n) out of therapy just because you might not like Raynor's methods."

As much as Bucky didn't want to agree, as protective as he was becoming, Bucky knew that Steve was right. He wasn't properly equipped for this; to be helping like this, and he sure as hell wasn't in a position to give advice on how to feel. The only thing that he could do was be there for her.

But Bucky didn't know how to do that without being, well, him.

Steve then clasped Bucky on the shoulder, breaking the man out of his thoughts as Steve encouraged him softly.

"Be there for her, but let Raynor do her job, Bucky. Your job right now is to just be there, alright? She trusts you more than anybody else right now, and that is a really big deal."

Bucky slowly nodded before he glanced at the door again and murmured.

"Alright."

When the men went back into Steve's temporary sleeping quarters, (Y/n) was staring out the window, her eyes distant, and Bucky gently sat down next to her with a sigh. (Y/n) glanced at him through the corner of her eye, and Bucky asked her gently.

"(Y/n), do you want to try again with Raynor? I know it was difficult earlier, and you don't have to if you don't want to, but I think...maybe trying again would be good."

"What if I hurt you...or Raynor?"

Her voice was soft, anxious and small, and Bucky shook his head comfortingly.

"You don't have to worry about that."

He didn't add anything else to his words, but there was no need to. (Y/n) could pick up on the weight of his words; of the promises he was silently offering, and (Y/n) nodded after a moment. Bucky smiled slightly, and he glanced back at Steve, who nodded to him encouragingly. Bucky turned back to (Y/n) when she asked him softly.

"Why did this happen to me?"

Bucky wasn't expecting the question, and he pursed his lips after a moment of thinking. Glancing down at the table, Bucky wasn't exactly sure how to answer.

"Bad things happen to good people for no good reason...it's just the way that life is."

(Y/n) bit her lip then, saying softly.

"I want it to stop hurting."

Bucky was quiet, mitigating his thoughts before he settled and agreed gently.

"I know. Me too. We're going to get there though, okay? One day, things won't seem as heavy or confusing...and you won't feel so lost."

(Y/n) stared at him for a moment, her (e/c) eyes seeming to glow within the sunlight that was filtering through the window, and Bucky's heartbeat began to quicken for a second. His jaw slackened just the slightest, and (Y/n) turned away from him then, her facial expression almost sad.

"I don't...know what is real and what isn't. All the things that I remember...from before HYDRA...I can't make sense of them."

In her mind, (Y/n) knew that the memories had to mean something, but how could she connect to those memories when the main part of her mind was certain these things had never happened? (Y/n)'s existence came about when she was introduced as a Winter Soldier. That's who she had always been...so how was it possible that she had lived a life before it?

These were the thoughts that were starting to get to her; this unknowing and confusion and uncertainty of what is real and what wasn't. It was leaving her mind jumbled, panicking her every time she started to remember because what if it wasn't real? What if these memories were just things that her scrambled mind were putting together?

What if they were implanted memories?

What if they were a part of her programming?

What if they were never hers to begin with?

The woman took a deep and shaky breath, and she finally nodded, whispering softly.

"I would...like to try again."

Bucky nodded before he stood, informing (Y/n).

"I'll go get Raynor then. In the mean time, why don't you get something to eat with Steve?"

(Y/n)'s eyes flicked over to the named man, Steve's kind eyes glancing to her, and he smiled softly as he teased slightly.

"I hear lunch is supposed to be pretty good today."

(Y/n) nodded slowly and stood, glancing back down at the sketchbook, and she asked Steve slowly.

"Did you do that?"

Steve's ears reddened slightly, and he grabbed the sketchbook with a shy gait to his movements.

"Yes. I like to draw when I have the time."

(Y/n) was surprised by the notion, and she bit her lip before the curiosity ate at her enough for her to ask softly.

"Can I...see more?"

Steve was stupefied before he shrugged, Bucky smirking at Steve's shy demeanor as the man agreed.

"Sure, I don't mind."

(Y/n) grabbed the purple crochet bag, murmuring.

"I can...show you the journal too."

Steve's eyes lit up, and he nodded.

"I would enjoy that. Come on, let's get something to eat before you meet with Raynor. A full stomach is always best."

-

STORY NOTES:

TRANSLATIONS:

None

TAGLIST: @softpia @thebl00dwyrm @buckvoidsyy @chonkybonky @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter @torntaltos

[mikuni14]

My Stubborn - Ep 1-2

"I will slap you, Jun. WITH MY LIPS" 😆😆😆 Yeah, ok, just inject it directly into my veins, I live for something like that 😂🤡

Oh god, I am that simple and my taste is that simple, who am I kidding. I watched these two episodes and had a blast. It really doesn't take much for me to be happy.

I really like the main couple. They're entertaining, fun, interesting, have great scenes, good dialogue, fantastic chemistry and they're not boring

It's been ages since I last saw this type of seme: extremely possessive, strong, super hot, funny, manipulative, finding the weirdest and stupidest excuses just to keep his uke by his side and within his hands and mouth reach, keeping him away from potential rivals, and on top of that being a world-class asshole. I'm in love

I love the character of uke, who is lovely and sweet, genuinely liked by everyone and at least I know why, but who doesn't let anyone walk all over him. Yes, he is naive and gullible in contacts with someone like Sorn, but apart from that he fights with him, argues, is not polite and submissive, talks back to him. Because of this, their relationship is full of life, emotions and tension. And I don't feel worried about the lack of balance in this relationship. Don't get me wrong - it's not an equal relationship for many reasons, but at least I don't have to worry about Jun. Besides, Jun already influences Sorn's behavior and actions and takes up most of his thoughts 😉 so it's not one-sided, Sorn is also affected and emotional about Jun

their fights are so entertaining

Sorn looks like a hot mix of Yin and Gun (from Love Area), and Jun looks like a cute mix of Fiat and Fourth. Both perfectly capture the classic seme and uke characters, I think this is very good casting

cheating, being promiscuous - it's been a long time since we've seen that in BL

I like the relationships between all the characters, how they take care of each other, how the older ones take care of the younger ones. No one annoys me!

I also like that when something bad happens, it's immediately addressed. Including Sorn's behavior towards Jun, which is noticed, paid attention to, called out. Including by Jun himself

the love scenes and kisses are really well done: they kept the sounds ✨, they are nicely shot, the actors and aescethics make them really sexy. The actors played them in such a way that as a viewer I see and feel the desire between their characters. In addition, Sorn with his hotness, passion and difficulty in holding back his grabby hands and extorting kisses is something I expect in my BLs 😌 What do you mean the characters don't feel the need to constantly touch someone they like? Sorry, not in my romances 😛

I love the smiling making out sessions 💖💖💖

The series may not be top-notch, the acting may not be top-notch, but I really like it so far, I laughed a lot, I had fun. This series has such a charming aura of old-school yaoi, which is obviously very much to my liking 😌

If the main characters in the series aren't like that ☝ I don't want to watch it 🤡

And would you look at this, IQIYI allowed me to watch a BL series in my region, just when I was about to cancel my subscription 🙄

[appleyass123]

I know you're mainly a naruto blog but i noticed you've done some owl house stuff. This is gonna be a long rant and i wanna hear you're opinion

I'm sorry, but Dana Terrance wrote the Owl House and decided it makes sense for Hunter's arc to pair him up with Willow? And then wrote Amity's arc and thought it made sense to pair her up with Luz?

Amwillow and Lunter would have worked so much better from a character driven standpoint.

Amity never got enough screentime to actually learn how to treat Willow with respect. We got Understanding Willow, and then a B-plot an entire season later that showed that plot thread was unresolved.

But if Amity got a crush on Willow instead of Luz? It'd force character development on both Amity and Willow's ends.

As for Lunter, the most ironic way for the Caleb plotline to end is to have history repeat itself, but this time Belos can't blame it on a Witch. Huntlow had some parallels, but having it be Luz would dial it up to 11!!!

Lumity just isn't a well written ship and it's made worse when you think about Luz ending up with her best friend's former bully. And after she gets with Amity, Luz stops talking to willow entirely! The canon ships were horribly written and Lunter should have been canon.

I respect you opinion but I personally I feel Lumity was written well for many reasons. Firstly, Amity was seen as this shallow stereotypical mean girl who had no heart and enjoyed mercilessly picking on Willow. Then Luz came along and because of her bubbly and sweet personality it began rubbing on Amity causing her to slowly stop being rude and show her real personality. Amity came from an abusive and strict family and she was expected to act like her mother, cruel and vindictive but with Luz she could actually be herself as we slowly see that Amity truly isn't a rotten person and is actually kind-hearted and has a heart made of gold. Luz helped Amity slowly repair her relationship with Willow and gained confidence to stand up to her mother.

However, I do agree with you about Hunter x Willow. While I do admit that they are a cute ship, they lacked some development and I felt that we should've seen more interactions and development from them but due to problems with The Owl House Dana had to cut the season short otherwise I felt we could've seen these two interact more. They aren't a bad ship I just feel "meh" with them

[muddiedfoxglove]

redd's fic rec list

I'm always sending my friends good fic recs, so I thought I'd do that here for once! Under the cut are some of the fics I have really liked over the last month or so, in no particular order.

crossed the borderline of weightless by dykeries e | 4.2k | oneshot

“Buck,” he says cautiously, and Buck is about to say sorry, about to sprint out of Eddie’s house and drive his Jeep into the Pacific, but instead Eddie speaks before he can do anything. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he says, and Eddie digs his fingers more deeply into Buck’s hair and pulls. __________________________ Buck needs to clear his head. It turns out Eddie is willing to help with that.

on my last strength against you by markofalover e | 9k | oneshot

Buck has self-control. He hasn’t always used it, but he likes to think he’s gotten a lot better at it, throughout the years. Evidence: He’s clenching his jaw to the point of pain and very pointedly looking at the TV, like the local weatherman spouting off about a heat wave is capable of holding this much of his attention. If this were—before, they would not be watching the news. - ...or, Eddie could just use his words, but where’s the fun in that?

slide into homebase by sybilsleaves e | 5k | oneshot

Eddie's the star pitcher of the 118's intramural softball team. Buck is the assistant coach who has a few pointers for him.

Flash Mobs and Jumbo Trons by glorious_spoon e | 10k | part 3 of a series

"Sorry," Buck says, with an exaggerated wince. "Sorry, sorry, that's not—that's not a proposal, for the record, don't freak out. I was just wondering." Something about the way he says it makes Eddie wonder if maybe it would be a proposal, if he'd reacted differently just now. He dismisses the thought immediately. Buck is a grand romantic gestures kind of guy. He wouldn't ask Eddie to marry him out of the blue, on the couch, halfway through a Lakers game. Eddie is sure of it. Mostly sure of it. - Or: Buck asks a question. Eddie dithers.

symbiosis by mandolare e | 8k | oneshot

When Buck turns to the side to step into the shower he freezes, suddenly and shockingly wide-awake, because there’s something very, very abnormal in his periphery, so out of place he almost can’t make himself look straight at it in the mirror. But then he does, and for a moment forgets how to work his lungs. Because there’s the blue-black shadow of fresh ink under his skin, ugly cursive script, about three inches wide right on his ass. Eddie, it says, high on the curve of his right cheek. - Buck and Eddie get blackout drunk, and then learn something new about themselves. And each other.

lover, be good to me by midnights e | 7k | oneshot

in which oranges are picked, muffins are made, and lazy morning sex is had.

i know you need it by midnights e | 12k | oneshot

to say Buck is pent up would be an understatement. so Eddie gives him what he needs.

been lost for a while by trysetmeonfire m | 17k | oneshote (....for now?)

Eddie's wife has been dead for two weeks. There's a firefighter in bed five. These are not necessarily related facts, but Eddie will have a hard time separating them out, later. — A story, in many ways, about holding hands

drown in good intentions (never quench the fire) by windmillsofmymind e | 87k | 7/7 chapters

“I thought you were ready to start dating,” Bobby says, which. Eddie doesn’t think that’s remotely close to the point. “Yeah, Eddie,” Buck echoes, all narrowed eyes and petulance, aggressively attempting to spear a tomato on his plate while maintaining eye contact. “I…I don’t think the blind dates were really working out.” “So you’re trying to get out of your aunt’s setups, again. And this is what you’re going with?” Hen says, eyebrows raised. “I did not say that. I hadn’t even thought about telling Pepa I’m seeing Felisa, to be honest.” But isn’t that a thought. “I just thought a break would be nice, you know? I can find someone at my own pace, organically.” A chorus of protests and objections, to the tune of “how are you going to meet someone organically when everybody thinks you’re dating someone else”, breaks out across the table. “Oh, he’s gonna find someone organically, alright,” Chimney interrupts. “Obviously, he’s gonna fall in love with Felisa.” Buck promptly begins to choke on his salad. - Or: Eddie pretends to date Felisa Valdez, a normal thing to do, for normal reasons. Buck acts normal about it.

king of the castle by organyx e | 12k | oneshot

Buck scoffs. “You really think you could go longer than I could without--” Eddie shakes his head in amusement. “Making a ‘deposit’?” he teases sarcastically, finishing Buck’s sentence when he awkwardly clams up. “Yes, with one hundred percent certainty.” Buck’s eyebrows raise, his bright grin showing off a row of perfectly white teeth. “Oh, you wanna bet? Since you’re so confident.” ----- Buck and Eddie challenge each other to see who can go the longest without an orgasm. Eddie’s pretty confident he can win.

forever in a day by organyx e | 29k | oneshot

“Eddie, you’re scaring me,” Buck says in the quiet of the room. “Do you-- do you know what day it is?” “Friday,” Eddie answers, tongue thick like his throat is stuffed with cotton. “Yeah,” Buck confirms. “And-- do you know my full name?” Eddie swallows. “Evan Buckley,” he says definitively, but-- He finally turns to look at Buck’s face, and it’s like he’s waiting for Eddie to keep going. Like Eddie had gotten it wrong. Buck’s face melts, his brows pinched together, and Eddie-- He doesn’t know what the hell is going on. ----- Eddie loves every version of Buck. And Buck? Well, he’s starting to realize every version of Buck loves him right back. If only Eddie could get back home to tell him that.

tangled in the willows by organyx e | 9k | oneshot

“Eddie,” Buck whines, hips squirming off the seat as far as his seatbelt will allow, pumping into the air with a grunt. He needs friction, needs a hole to fuck into, needs to fill and claim and satisfy a wet, shivering body below him. He sucks in a trembling breath, but all he can smell is Eddie. His distressed scent is coming off of him in waves, sharp and acidic, chemical in nature. It should be disgusting, should have Buck wrinkling his nose and backing away as far as he can, but he finds it intoxicating, instead. Buck lets go of the safety handle to fumble with his belt buckle. ----- Buck knows he's the jealous type. He just never thought it could affect him like this.

good things come for those who wait by ithilien22 e | 2k | oneshot

Turns out, Buck likes when Eddie makes him wait for it. (And they're embarrassingly in love about it.)

i wanna be tied tied tied to your apron strings by sybilsleaves e | 3k | oneshot

He’s chosen his attire fittingly: the light pink Kiss the Cook apron Eddie had gotten him last Christmas. And nothing else. Buck knows, okay. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he knows. Something about him in an apron turns Eddie into some kind of crazed sex fiend, desperate for Buck’s attention the way Buck usually feels desperate for his. Usually, it’s kind of a problem. Like when Buck’s trying to cook dinner at the station and Eddie keeps trying to convince him to sneak up to the roof. Or when Buck has thirty-six cupcakes to bake for the Robotics Club spring fundraiser and Eddie starts tugging at his apron strings and kissing his neck until Buck is forced to banish him from the kitchen until he can behave. or, the Apron Buck fic

honey, you're familiar by cranberrymoons e | 1k | oneshot

Seeing him like this: Buck on top of him, mile-long legs splayed out over his lap. Straddling him with his hands planted on Eddie’s shoulders, sweat shining on his face, sheets bunching up around both of them. At some point in the watching, sitting up, hand pressed low on Buck’s back to keep him held close, mesmerized.

call it fate, call it karma by sungodlou e | 6k | oneshot

He honestly can’t tell if Buck is doing it on purpose, anymore. He’s thwarted all of Eddie’s attempts at flirtation—and most of his attempts at fun—and Eddie’s eye is honestly starting to twitch; he somehow always manages to forget how quickly this type of thing goes from endearing to irritating. In the last half hour, Buck has dialled the brat factor up to about a ten, like he knows he can only get away with being this exacting for so much longer before Eddie snaps and puts him in his place a little. And Eddie is officially done resisting the urge to bend him over and do just that. or; Someone has got to get Buck away from that damn clipboard

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

broken promises. l Clint Flood

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

Summary: he broke his promise again, you couldn't have done otherwise

Warnings: angst, stable relationship that breaks, broken promises, tears, mentioning violence, pregnancy

A/N: the second season of broken hearts.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

“No, no, no! You promised me, Clint! You promised this would end!”

You were furious. Angry. Devastated. The moment that man walked through the door to your house, you knew it had happened again. He had taken another job. And no, it wasn’t a safe and nice job, but a job that could cost him his life.

“Sweetheart…” Clint took a step toward you, but you quickly stepped back, standing behind the kitchen island as if it was somehow protecting you from him. The sight hurt him. “Sweetheart, we talked about this. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, what a relief!” you snorted. “I feel calmer right away.”

“Sweetheart.”

You were sure that tonight he would call you every sweet name he knew, he always did that when he felt guilty, when he knew that what he had done had somehow upset you. This big guy, who the whole town feared, was like a teddy bear next to you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not now.

You saw his injured knuckles and you already had your answer. “Did you kill someone?” you asked, even though the words barely made it through your tight throat.

“No, honey. He’ll be fine in a week or two, but he was alive when I left.”

You nodded. “That’s good. I wouldn’t feel like visiting you in prison or the cemetery.”

“Honey, I know you’re mad. But it was necessary. I did it for us. For you!”

Something in your gaze changed. Clint noticed it immediately. You straightened up, your fingers clenching.

“Don’t say things like that, Clint. There’s nothing about us in what you’re doing.” You said through gritted teeth. “I’ve asked you so many times. You promised me!”

“I can handle this.”

"And me? The past, what you do, will catch up with you eventually! Can't you see that?" you took a deep breath, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You had to tell him eventually. You had hoped for a better moment, a more intimate one, but apparently this was your fate. "I can't risk it anymore, Clint. I can't let them see what their father did..."

He frowned. He looked at you carefully, as if trying to understand what you had said. What was that supposed to mean? He could feel your anger was greater than usual, but this was...

"I'm pregnant, Clint." you finally said. "I wanted to tell you at a better time, but I see there's no point in it." you took a deep breath. "I can't live like this anymore. I just can't..."

In the blink of an eye he was next to you. His large hands cupped your face as if you were his most precious treasure. Brown eyes looked at you with delight and love that only Clint carried within himself.

“Are you sure, honey?” he asked.

“Pregnant or that I’m sick of it?” you mumbled. “Because if you’re asking, the answer ‘yes’ fits every question.”

“You’re pregnant…”

Clint completely ignored what you were saying to him. His mind was focused only on thinking about the baby. He loved you, you knew that, but you also knew that you didn't have enough strength in you to pull him away from what could tear him away from you forever. This world was dangerous. What if Clint didn't protect all of you?

You turned your head when his lips wanted to touch yours, and after a moment you took his hands off your face. He didn't quite understand, or so you thought, because you immediately felt him trying to hug you. You slipped out of his grip again and circled the island again. "I can't do this anymore, Clint. I... I just can't."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "We love each other. This baby is our dream come true."

"And will you promise me one more time that you'll end all this? I can't listen to this anymore." Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you quickly wiped them away with your hand. "Clint, I'm tired of fighting for you, for us."

"But I love you!"

"I know. And I love you too." You sighed. "I'm doing this for us."

"What do you want to do? Tell me."

When your eyes met, Clint understood immediately. No, he couldn't agree to this. He had been one step behind you all evening, promising, begging, assuring you of his feelings. You knew all of this. It wasn't the first time, but this time it hurt the most. And you both suffered.

Clint Flood was the love of your life. His child was the fulfillment of your dreams of a family. But the rest? You couldn't risk it. Not when you were carrying a new life inside you.

As you got into your car, Clint tried to convince you to come back.

“I love you so fucking much.”

You looked up at his heartbroken face, feeling like your heart was already in pieces. “I love you too, Clint. I always will.”

You started the engine and carefully pulled out onto the dark street. A part of you remained in the house you were leaving, but you knew you had to do this.

[homeofhousechickens]

Well yeah, bite history for breeds more often owned by people of color is going to be documented more often than say, a golden retriever. I’ve seen two separate bites that both nearly resulted in amputation if they were a few millimeters in one direction. Both were spaniel mixes with rage syndrome. When asked, the owners acted shocked and said their dog had never bitten anyone before. When previous vets and groomers were contacted, what do you know: this wasn’t the first bite, but nobody thought it was worth the trouble reporting previous incidents. They’re not an “aggressive breed” after all.

Every single purposefully bred goldendoodle on this planet was either backyard bred or from a puppy mill, but since it’s white people doing it they’re a “designer breed”.

But yeah, pitties are so uniquely dangerous & horrible

Don't know why your ranting at me i also dont like doodles I where i worked I got bit multiple times and had to break up multiple dog fights.

There are plenty of great black dog owners so I resent the fact you're stating that black people are the ones with these aggressive dogs. Please read back what you sent to me and what you are implying because I vehemently disagree.

My dad was an ex dog fighter (my dad is a piece of shit), I have experience with the breed and the various heinz57s that come from them from the people who breed them willy nilly. I used to work in animal care for a rescue trust me I know the various doodles suck just as much but it's stupid to minimize the danger for bully type dogs because they are so powerful and tend to come from bad backgrounds.

A golden doesn't have the same drive as a bully or any terrier for that matter. I'm sorry but it's the truth.

I don't even think they should be banned or anything its just think they need a specific kind of owner and rescues need to be more willing to euthanize and stop lying to people about a dogs breed make up and bite history! How many times have I showed my old work place mislabeleing these dogs??

I have specific history with these dogs which shapes my personal world view!

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #5 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: BigTunaMan invites PrincessPeach69 to help him with his cam room! This is detailing a few of the many events (light bdsm, hanging with the boys, a rainy day at home, anything with Seokjin pretty much..) that happens within 6 months after taking up Seokjin's challenge to be his camgirl partner. What was once a chilhood rivalry between you too now leaves you two on the cusp of being friends and being something more as time goes on living with him... ? what will you do when a moment outside of filming for the cam room occurs between you and him? note: surprise! an hour earlier!! i'm sorry for disappearing for awhile since my last update. i had to get life-saving emergency surgery and spent my birthday month recovering then being 3/4 recovered i went to go see hobi and then i had to go back to work... not fun... but i managed to finish the whole fic so i will be uploading ch 5, 6, and 7 in the next few weeks leading up to jin's 2nd album release! crazy to think i released ch 1 when his first album dropped. i hope you enjoy this until the end! warnings: mini month timeskips, FEATURES THE OTHER BTS MEMBERS!, mild language, camboy! seokjin, protected s*x, blindfolds, cheesy low budget p*rno roleplay, femdom, cam "couple" in disguise, ASMR sounds, light bdsm, choking, riding, code word, grinding, orgasm denial, n*pple play, breast play, multiple org*sm, straddling, pet names, body worship, voyeurism, dirty talk, implied adult content streaming (camming), brat! reader, brat tamer! seokjin, aftercare drop date: May 3rd, 11:00pm pst word count: 7.1k crossposted on ao3 here <- chapter 4 | chapter 6 -> - -

Three weeks have passed since you started camming with Jin, and by now, your initial shyness has started to fade.

You still hide your face during streams (alternating between a mask, a blindfold, or the oversized sunglasses you finally bought), but you're definitely more confident in your body and presence than you were on that nerve-wracking first night. A rhythm has started to settle in between the two of you.

During the day, you apply for jobs or go on interviews when you’re lucky enough to land one. Jin, on the other hand, leaves early for his corporate job and returns in the evening, usually with takeout or groceries in hand. Most nights you eat dinner together while catching up on your respective days. Sometimes he streams games on Twitch, and on Thursdays or Fridays, your designated camming nights, you both prepare for your evening show.

It’s become a strange but comfortable little domestic situation.

And it’s within this new domestic life that you’ve started to learn more about Jin. Not just what he likes to eat or how he folds his laundry (like an obsessive neat freak), but the way he quietly observes you, the kind of music he listens to when he thinks you’re not around, and… specifically, his kink.

It all starts on a random Thursday night. You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling on your phone while Jin’s fully immersed in the latest season of Invincible. Everything is peaceful…until you remember your carrot cake.

The slice you were saving. The tiny indulgence you bought for yourself after surviving two brutal interviews earlier in the week. It was supposed to be waiting for you in the fridge. But when you go to get it, there’s only an empty container and Jin’s dumb little sticky note that says: Sorry! :)

“Are you serious!?” you shout from the kitchen.

“I thought you forgot about it!” Jin yells back, not even taking his eyes off the TV. “It was the smallest piece of cake!”

“That was MINE, Seokjin! It was in the back of the fridge, hidden behind your sad spinach banchan!”

You stomp back into the living room, and the next thing you know, you’re tackling him onto the couch in a whirlwind of fake rage and flailing limbs. He laughs as you straddle him and jokingly try to pin his arms down with all your strength.

But then, right in the middle of your amateur wrestling match, he says, a little too casually, “You know what! This is nice!I like things like this.”

You freeze. “Wait. Are you being serious?”

Jin blinks up at you, lips curled in amusement. “Yeah. Why? You into it too?”

You open your mouth, then shut it again. You’re not exactly sure how to answer that, but something about the way he said it—like it was the most natural thing in the world—does something to you. Flicks a switch you didn’t even know was there.

“You like... choking? BDSM-type stuff?”

“Mmhm.” He shrugs. “Topping, bottoming, control games… I'm open. I figured you’d caught on by now.”

“I…I would’ve never assumed this of my CHILDHOOD friend!”

You just stare at him for a moment, perched on his lap, trying to decide if he’s joking. But no, his expression is open and relaxed, and that little flutter in your stomach is not going away.

And it is Thursday night. Which means...

“...How do you feel about trying something tonight? On cam?”

Jin’s eyes brighten immediately. “You want to?”

“Maybe. It’s make great content from the vanilla stuff we’ve been sticking to. I could be in control this time.”

“You’re seriously a freak,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Hey! You’re one to talk, Mister ‘Nice, I like this’ mid-chokehold,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes as you climb off him.

The clock ticks past 12AM, and the city beyond the windows has gone still, blanketed in the hush of a weekday night. Jin signs off from his long Twitch stream with Kian84, their chaotic Getting Over It speedrun wrapping up after a cascade of laughter and Jin's usual exaggerated groaning at every misstep. “Thanks for watching, ya masochists!,” he grins into the webcam, and then the screen fades to black.

He exhales, stretching as he pushes back from the desk. “Okay,” he says with a sly glance at you from across the living room. “Time for the other show.”

The energy shifts.

You help him drag out the camming equipment—tripods, lighting, his DSLR, and the mic. Normally, you two shoot in his bedroom, but tonight, there's something new in the air. You suggested the living room earlier, citing the extra space. Jin agreed without hesitation, and now the whole room is undergoing a transformation. The couch is cleared and fluffed. Lighting is adjusted for that soft, glowy evening look. The rug is vacuumed, and the camera sits steady on the tripod, perfectly angled toward the plush gray cushions that will soon become the set.

“You okay?” he asks you, low and curious, as he adjusts the focus ring on the lens.

You nod, biting your bottom lip. “Just thinking.”

“You’re planning something, huh?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

You disappear to your room, heart thudding as you peel off your lounge clothes and open your closet. From the very back, you pull out the outfit: a white collared button-up shirt, crisp and fitted, one you used to wear when you still had morning commutes and clients to present to. The top clings to your figure now, breasts practically spilling out of the top button you deliberately leave undone. A black blazer slides over your arms like muscle memory. You pair it with a black mini skirt, short enough to show off your thighs, the hem grazing just past the top of your stockings. Finally, the finishing touch: dark aviator sunglasses, glossy and oversized, giving you the kind of anonymity that still manages to scream control.

You catch yourself in the mirror. You don’t just look good—you look dangerous.

When you re-enter the living room, Jin’s crouched in front of the camera, checking the mic input, humming under his breath. The moment he turns and sees you, he lets out a low whistle, then immediately bursts into laughter.

“Oh my God. You look like a typical star of one of those low budget pornos.”

“Oh shut up,” you pout, adjusting your shades. “You're gonna regret saying that.”

He grins, standing to his full height and crossing his arms. “Am I? You look like you’re about to fire me and ruin my life.”

“That’s the point.”

“Did you actually wear that to work?!” he teases as he walks past you toward his bedroom to change. “Kinda hot, not gonna lie,”

“You wish you were my coworker,” you mutter under your breath, knowing he heard it.

Fifteen minutes later, he returns. The outfit he’s chosen mirrors yours, clearly putting in the same level of dramatic flair—he’s in a light blue button-up, loosely tucked into slacks, his hair slightly mussed in that infuriatingly effortless way, a dark blazer thrown over his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow at you. “Ready to destroy me?”

“Always.”

You take charge, directing him to the couch with a tone that makes even you pause—it’s smoother, sharper than your usual voice. Something about this character feels easy to slip into. You’re in control now.

“Sit,” you say simply.

He obeys.

“Blindfold,” you remind him, and he pulls the black silk fabric from the table, tying it over his eyes. The moment it’s on, he relaxes into the couch, letting out a long breath, as if already anticipating what’s to come.

You press record.

Then go live.

You clear your throat softly and speak first, your voice low and commanding.

“Good evening ladies and gentlement,” you begin, addressing the camera with your lips curled in a slow smirk. “It’s your Princess Peach here to start it off. Tonight, I have a very unproductive employee by the name of BigTunaMan who’s been skipping meetings and turning in sloppy work. You know what we do to those, right?”

Your tone is honeyed with sarcasm and heat, and already, the chat is lighting up. Jin shifts slightly on the couch, arms resting at his sides, but his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile.

You walk over and click your heels on the floor dramatically, each step a promise. You slide onto the couch beside him and trail your nails down his chest, slow and deliberate.

“I think a little discipline is in order.”

He makes a small sound in his throat, barely audible, but it sends a shiver down your spine. With the camera rolling, the lights warm and golden, and Jin blindfolded, the world has narrowed into this one intoxicating moment.

And for once, you’re not the nervous one.

You’re the one in charge.

You’re the one calling the shots.

And Jin?

He’s more than happy to submit to you.

Your hand drifts lower, fingertips gliding over the fine fabric of Jin’s slacks, watching the way his body reacts even under the blindfold. He can’t see you, but he feels everything—your presence, your breath near his jaw, the pressure of your palm teasing down his thigh.

“You’ve been slacking lately,” you murmur, letting your fingers graze the obvious bulge pressing against his pants. “So I’m going to remind you how to be obedient.”

Jin exhales sharply, chest rising with the effort to keep still. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak—just tilts his head slightly toward your voice.

You lean in, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Code word?” you whisper.

“Echo,” he replies immediately, voice low and already laced with heat.

You smile, fingers moving more deliberately now. You cup him through the fabric, the pressure making him shift slightly in his seat. His jaw clenches, the muscles ticking, and you feel his cock twitch under your palm, already hardening as you palm him through his slacks.

“Good boy,” you purr, loosening the belt and sliding down his zipper slowly, like unwrapping a gift you’ve been waiting for. You reach into his briefs, wrapping your hand around him, warm and already thick in your palm. His hips jerk just slightly.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“Impatient little pervert,” you scold gently, squeezing his cock just enough to make him groan. Your hand starts to move, slow and steady at first, working him up deliberately, thumb gliding over the head, gathering his arousal and spreading it down his shaft.

The chat is losing its mind. Comments flood in, heart emojis, praise, shocked exclamations at the sudden shift in dynamic. You barely register any of it. Your focus is all on Jin: on the way his mouth falls open slightly, the way his chest heaves when your hand twists and pumps in a firmer rhythm, your pace building.

His body is a live wire under your touch.

“You like being used, don’t you?” you murmur, watching the way his thighs tense beneath you.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Fuck—I mean, yes, Miss.”

You chuckle, leaning back just enough to give the camera a better view of your hand working him, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the quiet living room, the only light a white haze casting you both in a soft, intimate glow for the camera.

You press your legs together, your own arousal thrumming, but tonight isn’t about you this time.

It’s about him. 

Making him come completely undone for you. For your power. For the version of you he’s never seen before now: confident, in charge, teasing with just enough cruelty to make him squirm.

You speed up slightly, the rhythm just on the edge of cruel, your thumb teasing that sensitive spot beneath the head. He’s gasping now, lips parted, barely able to speak.

“Please—”

“Please what?”

“Please let me come…”

You smile. “Not yet.”

And you slow down, just enough to make him whimper.

You let his cock slip from your hand with a slow squeeze, and he lets out a helpless whimper, hips twitching upward like he's already aching for more.

“Getting all desperate on me already?” you murmur, standing only long enough to slip off your blazer and sink slowly to your knees between his spread legs.

He can’t see you, but he knows. You can tell by the way his breath catches, the way his hands fist at his sides, resisting the urge to touch you—he knows the rules.

You ghost your lips along the inside of his thigh, just barely grazing, soft and teasing. “Keep your hands where they are,” you command, and he nods quickly.

“Yes, Miss.”

You smirk to yourself, then take your time. Your tongue trails up the length of his cock, just one slow stroke, gathering the taste of his arousal on your tongue before you wrap your lips around the head. He groans deep and shaky.

You suck him in slowly, wet and warm, letting him slide deeper into your mouth as your hand works the base. The slurping sounds echo in the room, lewd and messy, just how you know he likes it. His thighs tense on either side of you, trying to stay still, his fingers curling into the cushions as he fights to behave.

You moan around him, eyes locked on his face. His head tilts back, lips parted as if in prayer, and that blindfold just makes everything more erotic—he’s at your mercy.

You suck harder now, bobbing your head, tongue swirling, spit dripping as you take him deeper. You make it wet, obscene, the perfect combination of control and indulgence. He’s groaning your camgirl stage name now, desperate, undone.

“Please, please, Princess—fuck, you’re too good at this, I’m gonna—”

You pull off with a loud pop, spit stringing from your lips to his cock as you stroke him a few more times.

“Not yet,” you say again, standing slowly. “I said you don’t get to come until I say so.”

He’s panting now, fully at your mercy, desperate and flushed.

You lift one leg and straddle him, lifting your skirt to show the lacy black panties already soaked through. “I’ve been wet for you since this stupid idea you had earlier,” you say, voice low and dangerous. “And now you’re going to be useful and fuck me like I deserve.”

He shudders beneath you. “Yes. Please, yes—” The usual next step to this would be a condom, however you gone back to using birth control just for the sake of being able to experiment and do more fun stuff with Seokjin for these cam sessions. A shout out to him for buying you birth control in this economy.

Thus, you line yourself up and sink down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretches you open inch by inch. You grip his shoulders to keep steady, watching the way his head tips back, lips parted in a silent groan. The blindfold stays on (for obvious privacy reasons), but he also doesn’t need to see you to feel just how deep you take him, how tight you clench around him.

You ride him slowly at first, letting him feel every shift of your hips, every squeeze of your walls around him. His hands stay obediently at his sides, trembling from restraint. Your fingers dig into his chest, your lips brushing his jaw.

“Code word?” you whisper, even though you can feel he’s hanging on by a thread.

“Echo…Fucking echo.”

You start to bounce on him faster, harder, taking everything he gives you and more. His name spills from your lips in breathy moans, and he’s groaning right back, desperate, praising, begging all at once.

And then, you pause for just a breathless second, your hand sliding up his chest and curling gently around his throat. You hover there, locked onto his bodily reactions.

“I want to try it,” you whisper. “Can you guide me?”

There's a sharp inhale. His hands tightening around your hips instinctively as he nods, slow but firm. “Yeah. I’ll tell you when. Just… eyes on me, okay?”

You nod, throat dry but heart racing. You resume your rhythm, rolling your hips and grinding down on him deeper this time. He’s already close. You can feel it in the way his grip falters, his voice rising.

“Now,” he rasps. “Just a little.”

You apply pressure—tentatively at first, until he groans in approval. His head tips back, his mouth slack, lashes fluttering like he’s sinking into something he’s craved too long. It’s intoxicating, the way his body responds to you… but it's his voice that keeps you grounded. The way he whispers praise through every gasp, every twitch of his hips under yours. “That’s it… fuck, baby. Just like that.”

There’s a shift—an unmistakable shift. His voice takes on a different tone. Still needy, still submissive, but laced now with authority, with control, as he murmurs exactly how much pressure, exactly when to let go. His power doesn’t challenge yours—it folds into it, guides it. And you follow. Willingly. Entranced.

You press a little harder, feeling his pulse thrum beneath your fingers, his mouth falling open in a moan that hits you right in the gut.

“I���m—please—I need to—” he gasps, and you let go just in time, letting him breathe again, watching him unravel completely beneath you.

“Then beg.”

“Please let me come inside you, please—I’ve been so good, you’re so perfect—fuck, I need you—”

You slam your hips down harder, grinding, your hands tangled in his hair now as your bodies meet in frenzied rhythm. His control shatters completely when you press your lips to his and whisper, “Come for me, baby.”

And he does.

With a low, broken groan, he thrusts up into you, pulsing deep inside as your own climax follows, walls fluttering around him while you moan against his mouth, soaking him as he fills you. Your fingers grip his jaw, keeping him grounded as you both ride out the high, body to body, messy and panting.

You stay on top of him, his cock still buried inside you, breathless and flushed. He’s dazed, the blindfold still on, and you kiss his forehead softly before reaching up to remove it.

His eyes blink open slowly, glassy and adoring.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, grinning up at you like you just changed his life.

“See?” you smirk, leaning in to kiss him. “Told you you’d regret teasing me about the outfit.”

Two hours later, the camera light finally blinks off.

The room is dim now, save for the warm golden glow from the lamp in the corner. You and Jin are a flushed, disheveled mess. Clothes half-on, makeup smudged, hair wild. A sheen of sweat glistens on both your bodies, and your inner thighs still tremble faintly from all the exertion.

He flops back against the couch with a groan, eyes shut as he tries to catch his breath. “That was… that was insane.”

You toss a throw blanket over both your laps and lean against his shoulder, just as blissed out. “Good insane?”

“Good?” he laughs, turning to look at you, eyes wide and still dazed. “You… how the fuck did you learn all of that?”

You grin, a little smug but mostly shy. “I… well. I’ve read my fair share of erotica.”

He stares at you for a beat, and then lets out a wheezy laugh. “Okay, no, because you didn’t just read erotica. That was like—years of field research packed into one night.”

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands. “Shut up! I didn’t want to half-ass it, especially since I knew you were into that stuff. I figured… if I was going to dominate you, I wanted to do it right. So i prayed all the shit I’ve read would come back to me in that moment.”

Jin’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, and he exhales, still not fully recovered. “You didn’t just do it right. You wrecked me. I mean, I think you broke time. I blacked out somewhere around the tie-and-denial part.”

You smirk and nudge his leg with your knee. “Told you not to tease me about the outfit.”

He lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win. You’re terrifying. Beautiful and terrifying.”

You rest your head on his shoulder again, quieter now, as the adrenaline starts to settle into something softer. Jin lets his hand slide over yours, squeezing gently.

“You really enjoyed it?” you ask, voice lower, more vulnerable this time.

He turns to you again, this time more serious. “More than anything. Not just the kink stuff, but you. Being with you like this. Doing this together. I didn’t think I’d ever get close to you like this.”

Your heart flutters.

“Same,” you admit. “It’s something I never thought, let alone reunite with you.”

He looks at your eyes, rather lovingly, but you convince yourself he’s just completely blissed out. “Let’s get some sleep, Seokjin.”

It is insane how close you and Seokjin start becoming after this. Living with him felt like walking on eggshells at first—between the awkwardness of your past and the very unique way your current relationship started—but over time, it’s become shockingly natural. Domestic, even. You’ve slipped into his world like you were always meant to be there.

You’re in the kitchen, rinsing out a few dishes from lunch and humming to yourself when you hear Jin’s voice rise from the living room. He’s in the middle of filming some chaotic “Lose and You Win!” Mario Party content, screaming into the mic with Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung, all of them laughing, cursing, and accusing each other of cheating. You glance up once in a while, smiling at the banter. It's hard to believe that this—this apartment, this man, this life—is where you ended up. And you’re not mad about it.

Around 8 p.m., you hear the game’s final jingle play and the stream go offline. The guys groan and stretch, the energy in the room softening now that they’re off-camera. You hear Taehyung pipe up, “Alright, wings? I’m craving pain-level buffalo.”

Jungkook adds, “Buffalo Wild Wings, let’s goooo.”

Jimin chimes in, nudging Jin from the side. “Come on, hyung. We haven’t hung out in person in weeks. Let’s grab dinner.”

Jin laughs but waves them off. “Can’t. I’ve got other plans tonight.”

The guys groan and boo dramatically.

Then suddenly, their eyes shift to you. Jimin leans over the couch to grin at you. “What about you, noona? You down to come with us? We’ll treat you! Wings, drinks, or anything else you want to do?”

“Noona—?” you laugh, setting down a cup. You’re not a noona, to these men, surely. But you’ll go with it. Getting out of the house with a group of charismatic, chaotic men sounds like a fun distraction. You open your mouth to say sure, already drying your hands—

But Jin cuts in smoothly from the couch without even looking at you. “She’s coming with me.”

The room goes quiet for half a second. You blink.

Taehyung raises a brow. “Oh?”

You look at Jin, arms crossed, voice flat. “I am?”

Jin finally looks at you now and smiles—not smug exactly, but knowing. “Yup. She is.”

And just like that, ten minutes later, you’re sliding into the passenger seat of his car.

You glance at him sideways as he drives. “You know, you didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go with you.”

He shrugs, smirking. “I didn’t want to lose you to fried chicken and beer. Besides…” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re going somewhere better.”

And that’s how you end up at Quarters KBBQ, a small, lowkey spot tucked in a quiet corner of K-Town. No frills, no signs. The kind of place only locals know about. Inside, it’s dimly lit, the air rich with the smell of grilled meat and soju. Jin nods to the ahjumma behind the counter, who recognizes him immediately and leads you both to a corner table where you find 3 other men. You weren’t expecting a full table when you walk in, but there they are. Namjoon already seated with Yoongi, nursing what looks like a soju bottle. And beside him, someone you haven’t met before. His smile is warm as the grills before him, and he immediately waves when he sees you two approach. “Happy birthday, Namjoon!” Jin says loudly and proudly as he approaches the table and gives the birthday boy a hug. “Hyung!” The man unknown to you calls out to Jin, his face brightening. His eyes shift to you beside him, and curiosity flickers in his expression. “You came–Ohhh, wait is she the mystery roommate-slash-partner-in-crime. Y/N?”

You raise a brow, amused. “Hello! Uh, mystery?” “Y/N, that’s Hoseok.”

Hoseok grins and offers a warm handshake. “Hi! Jin always talks about you in fragments—‘my roommate made this,’ ‘she said that,’ but never a full picture. I was starting to think you were part of his delulu storyline.”

You laugh, instantly liking him. “Sounds like Jin.”

Jin only shrugs, clearly unbothered as he guides you into the booth. Namjoon gives you a little wave and a fond, “Hey stranger, long time,” while Yoongi smirks and says, “Finally meeting you in person after too damn long.”

“Right, Jin’s been the one passing over my hellos to you like a game of telephone,” you reply, slipping into the seat beside Jin as he reaches for the soju bottle.

He pours you a glass first, then his own. “You weren’t missing out much,” he says, lips twitching. “Trust me.”

"Well anyways, welcome to the table,” Hoseok says, lifting his glass. “You’re stuck with us now.”

The table is already cluttered with side dishes, sauces, and raw meat sizzling over the grill. Jin clinks his glass to yours.

The sizzling sound of pork belly crackles on the grill as Yoongi expertly flips the pieces, tongs in one hand, drink in the other. Hoseok leans back in his seat, stretching his arms with a content sigh while Namjoon starts a debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza.

It’s easy to get swept into the rhythm—teasing, laughing, the casual way the guys lean into each other’s space like brothers who’ve known each other for years. But at some point, Jin goes quiet beside you.

You glance at him. “You okay?”

He nods, then clears his throat. “Just thinking. I haven’t brought anyone to a hang like this in a long time.”

The others catch that, and Namjoon smiles around the rim of his glass. “Yeah, that’s actually wild. You’re usually honja solo, hyung.”

Yoongi smirks. “Last time he brought someone was like... what? Two birthday dinners ago? And it was his older brother.”

“And W–” Hoseok is about to say until Yoongi and Jin elbow him, “Ow!!”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

You look at him, slightly teasing. “So this is a big deal?”

He looks at you steadily, his voice a little softer than before. “I guess it is. Feels different this time.”

Your chest warms a little at that.

Namjoon watches the two of you, then leans in toward you. “It’s been cool watching you settle into his place, by the way. Jin told us you've still been focused on job hunting and interviewing. That shit’s not easy.”

You blink, surprised. “He told you about that?”

“He did,” Yoongi says, passing you a lettuce wrap. “And for what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. Not everyone would handle it the way you’re handling it after a relationship fall out and job layoff.”

There’s a moment of quiet pride that hums through you. You didn’t realize Jin had even mentioned those parts of your life to his friends. It feels a little awkward, but more so makes you feel seen.

Hoseok nudges Jin with his elbow. “Hyung’s been different lately too. A little more… grounded.”

“Grounded?” Jin scoffs. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re not acting like a feral bichon 24/7,” Hoseok says with a grin.

Namjoon laughs. “He means you’re… softer. In a good way.”

You glance at Jin just as he glances at you.

And for a second, the noise of the table fades.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he. But the look says enough: I see you. I’ve got you.

And just like that, the table bursts into laughter again—Yoongi making a dry joke about Jin’s “new personality” like a bug patch in a game. Namjoon pretending to take notes like a therapist, Hoseok mimicking Jin’s dramatic voice.

And you? You just smile, lean closer to the boy who’s slowly, surely becoming your safe place, and take another sip of soju. After hanging out with his friends once, you ask Jin if you could tag along again to see them again for another hang out, which he happily agrees to. 

It’s been four months since you started camming with Jin, and the erotic streams have only gotten more creative, more intimate. What started as an experiment—something daring and purely transactional—has shifted into something strange and deeply emotional, quietly addictive. You both know how easily you’ve slipped into this lifestyle. And how naturally you’ve slipped into each other.

This afternoon, though, feels like a pause. A thunderstorm has rolled over, drowning the city in a wash of gray. Everything is wet, fogged, and slow. Jin had planned to work today, but after a tense few weeks with his team’s latest gaming project, he called in and stayed home instead. Burnt out, he said. Fried.

You didn’t argue. You weren’t in the mood either—not with the string of job application rejections piling up in your inbox. At this point, the cover letters all blur together. You hadn’t even gotten a callback in weeks.

So, wrapped up in shared blankets and layers of lazy comfort, the two of you spend the afternoon on the couch. Jin's sitting at the far end, curled around his Switch, locked into Fire Emblem. You’re in the opposite corner with your knees tucked up, reading a tattered paperback, something vaguely romantic and atmospheric. It's peaceful. Quiet. The kind of silence that only happens between people completely comfortable with each other. It took a lot to get here.

“Hey,” Jin says eventually, not looking away from his game. “Can you read it to me?”

You glance over, a brow raised. “You want me to read this out loud?”

He shrugs. “I just… like your voice. Makes it easier to relax.”

You smile faintly. “Since when are you shy about asking for that?”

“I’m not,” he says, grinning. “I’m being polite. Now read.”

You start. At first, it’s casual—your voice soft as the storm continues outside. Jin eventually puts the Switch down entirely, arms behind his head, eyes closed. Just listening.

Then he interrupts.

“You know,” he murmurs, “this could be a good ASMR unlockable. For the long-term subs. Just you. Reading. Whispering. Maybe some light teasing…”

You snort. “You’re so unserious.”

“I’m extremely serious,” he says, sitting up a little. “Think about it. Soft voice. Close mic. Add in a little roleplay… Touch. Whispered praise. Maybe I whimper a little.”

You stare at him. “You’re not even pretending you’re not into it, you pervert!”

“I stopped pretending around month one,” he shoots back easily. “Come here. Let’s try it.”

You hesitate, but the way he says it, low, teasing, like an invitation and a dare all at once, makes your skin tingle. You shift toward him, and he helps guide you into his lap. Your thighs straddle his, and your chest presses lightly against his hoodie. He’s warm beneath you, looking up with curious eyes and parted lips.

“Just whisper,” he says. “Let’s see how it feels.”

So you do. You lean in close to his ear and speak softly, slowly.

“You’re doing so well,” you murmur. “So obedient today. You want me to praise you more, don’t you?”

Jin exhales sharply. His hands grip your thighs, pulling you tighter against him. You’re still fully clothed, but the friction is unmistakable. Deliberate. He rocks his hips gently, testing, and you feel the rush of it right through you.

You keep going, praise melting into teasing, your breath hot against his neck. His hands slide up your back, then under your t-shirt, skimming your waist. When they reach your chest, he pauses, eyes flicking up to you.

You nod once. Barely.

And then his thumbs begin to circle, slow and unhurried, coaxing soft sighs out of you. You’re grinding into each other now, layers of fabric doing nothing to dull the want building between your legs. Your fingers grip his shoulders, your lips brush his jaw between whispers. Every word is another spark, every movement edging closer to something you both desperately want—but don’t quite reach.

It stays there. Right on the edge.

Until you both pull back, chests heaving, laughing breathlessly against each other’s skin.

“Jesus,” Jin mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “We can’t be doing this without a game plan.”

“You started it,” you whisper back, brushing his hair with your fingers.

“I didn’t think we’d get that close to—” he pauses, then laughs again. “Holy shit.”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. “We almost did it. On your streaming mic.”

“I mean…” He pulls back and looks at you seriously. “If we did start pushing the boundaries a bit… would you be okay with that?”

You hesitate, then smile. A little crooked. A little dangerous.

“Maybe… but definitely there’s more to that though,”

And the rain keeps falling outside, steady and soft, while your hearts thrum with something new. Something thrilling. Because you both know you're already on the edge of something bigger. Something you're not ready to name yet, but neither of you is trying to stop.

Six months pass since you first agreed to help Jin with his hobby. Six months since you stepped into his world of late-night cam streams, where the two of you put on a show for an audience that grows larger every week. Six months since you decided to throw caution to the wind and join him in front of the camera, not because you needed the money, but because you couldn’t resist the challenge. Because it was Jin—your childhood rival, your now-roommate, the man who somehow always manages to pull you into his orbit, whether you like it or not.

And it’s been nearly six months since you moved into his apartment, a decision born out of necessity after losing your job. Back then, you told yourself it would be temporary. Just until you got back on your feet. But here you are, half a year later, still sharing a space with him, still waking up to the smell of his amazing cooking, still laughing at his terrible dad jokes that he insists are comedy gold. 

Still pretending that the way he casually brushes past you in the kitchen or leans over your shoulder to peek at your laptop screen doesn’t send a jolt of electricity through you.

You’ve become… comfortable. Too comfortable, maybe. 

The kind of comfort that blurs lines and makes you forget where the act ends and reality begins. 

Outside of the camera’s gaze, the two of you have settled into a rhythm that feels almost domestic. Jin walks around the apartment in nothing but sweatpants, his hair a mess, and you don’t even blink anymore. You’ve caught him staring at you more than once, his gaze lingering a little too long, but neither of you say anything. It’s easier to pretend it doesn’t mean anything, to chalk it up to the strange intimacy of living together and the even stranger intimacy of what you do together on camera.

But sometimes, when he’s sitting too close on the couch, his thigh pressed against yours as you both scroll through your phones, or when he playfully tugs at your sleeve to get your attention, you wonder if it’s all just in your head. 

If you’re reading too much into the way he looks at you, the way he touches you—casual, effortless, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You haven’t talked about it.  Not once. Not about the way your hands linger when you pass each other things, not about the way he sometimes rests his chin on your shoulder while you’re cooking, not about the way your heart races when he flashes you that stupidly handsome grin of his. It’s like there’s an unspoken agreement between you: Don’t ruin this. Don’t make it weird. In the meantime, life goes on. You’ve been applying for jobs, sending out resumes, going to interviews. Some of them have gone well—really well, even—but nothing’s panned out yet. Jin keeps telling you not to stress, that something will come along eventually, but you can’t help feeling the pressure. You don’t want to overstay your welcome, even though Jin insists you’re not. “You’re not a guest,” he said once, when you brought it up. “You live here. This is your home too.”

His words stuck with you, more than you’d like to admit. Because the truth is, it does feel like home. More than any place has in a long time. And maybe that’s the scariest part of all.

Tonight, like most nights, you’re sitting on the couch with Jin, the TV playing some random drama neither of you is really paying attention to. He’s sprawled out, his head resting on the armrest, his feet nudging your thigh. You’re half-heartedly scrolling through job listings on Linkedin on your laptop, but your mind keeps wandering. Jin’s been quiet for a while, which is unusual for him.

You glance over and find him watching you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"Uh, what about me?"

"How stressed you look applying to these jobs?"

You close your laptop and set it aside, turning your body slightly to face him. “Well, yeah. Kind of comes with this whole process of unemployment, doesn’t it? I’m trying to not be jobless forever, you know.”

Jin sits up slightly, propping himself on one elbow. His messy hair falls into his eyes, and he brushes it back with a hand, looking far too attractive for someone who hasn’t left the apartment all day. “You’re not going to be unemployed forever,” he says firmly, his tone soft but resolute. “You’re good at what you do. The right job’s gonna come along, you’ll see.” You roll your eyes, leaning back against the couch. “You say that like it’s easy. Like I just need to snap my fingers, and poof, dream job.”

“It’s not about snapping your fingers,” he counters, his lips quirking into that signature smirk of his—the one that always makes your stomach do an unwelcome flip. “It’s about realizing you’re a catch. Any company would be lucky to have you.”

His words hit you harder than they should. Maybe it’s the sincerity in his voice or the way his gaze lingers on you just a moment too long, like he’s daring you to believe him. You swallow, suddenly feeling too seen, too exposed.

“Well,” you say, forcing a casual shrug, “if all else fails, at least I have my… side gig.”

At that, Jin’s smirk widens into a full grin, and he sits up completely, crossing his legs beneath him. “Side gig? Princess, what we’re doing is more than just a gig. We’re providing art.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Art? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Absolutely,” he says with mock seriousness, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “I’ve got the lighting, the angles, the choreography—it’s practically cinema. And you—well, you’re the star. The muse. My creative partner.”

“Okay, now you’re pushing it,” you tease, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Jin has a way of making you laugh, even when you don’t want to. It’s infuriating and endearing all at once.

He leans closer, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and his chin in his hand, studying you. “But seriously,” he says, his tone dropping back to that rare sincerity, “you’re doing great. Not just with the streams, but... everything. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still here, still pushing forward. I’m proud of you.”

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. Your throat tightens, and you quickly look away, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Thanks,” you mumble, barely above a whisper.

Jin doesn’t push you to say more, and you’re grateful for that. The silence that settles between you is surprisingly comfortable, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

But, of course, Jin can’t let the moment stay too serious for long.

“So,” he says, his smirk returning, “about tonight’s stream…”

You groan, throwing your head back against the couch. “God, do you ever take a break?” “Not when I’ve got content to plan,” he says, winking at you. “I was thinking we could try something new. Maybe a little bdsm roleplay? Or–oh, I know—a themed night! Like anime cosplaying.”

“Cosplaying?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him. “What kind of cosplaying?”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. “I don’t know. Something fun. Something the fans would love. You could be Sailor Moon, or a Nami from One Piece, or—”

“Stop right there,” you interrupt, holding up a hand. “I am not dressing up as some cliché sexy anime character.”

“Fine, fine,” he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But you can’t deny it’d be hot.”

You roll your eyes, though you can feel your cheeks heating up. “You’re impossible, Seokjin, you know that?”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he points out, flashing you that devastating grin. “So what does that say about you?”

It says more than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself. But instead of answering, you reach for your laptop, opening it back up and pretending to focus on the screen. Jin watches you for a moment longer, then leans back with a satisfied hum, stretching out on the couch like a cat.

You don’t know how long you can keep walking this line with him. This strange, delicate balance between friendship and… whatever this is. But for now, you’ll let it be. You’ll let yourself enjoy the banter, the laughter, the way he makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not so lost after all. - -

a/n: again SO SORRY that updating this fic took some time. I appreciate everyone who waited and is still sticking around until the very end!! I've extended this fic to 7 total chapters for the sake of fleshing things out as much as I could while keeping this fic short, so you have a lot to look forward too heheheheheheheh

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[bellaxgiornata]

BELLA I HAVE A IDEA FOR JAX!!! Mind you I thought of this as I'm in the middle of a shift at work. But could you write a small fanfic of jax x reader who has chronic migraines. Reader normally texts jax constantly while he's at the garage or with the guys and he does mind it but (talking as someone who has had these very bad migraine days) one day reader has a very bad migraine that wipes them out. Like they sleep all day, they are off the phone, they really haven't ate or drank much because the migraine was so bad that they couldn't even walk let alone stand without the room spinning. So jax doesn't hear a peep from them at all, all day and jax worries about them all day and rushes home to find reader passed out sleeping but he notices how pail and sickly they look and he takes care of them. Sorry if that was a lot.....I tend to have so many story ideas in my head at all times and helps me get through my days at work😅🤣 its like a little TV in my head🤣

I'm going to preface this with saying that normally I don't take requests for fic ideas (even though I do really love receiving and discussing headcanons and things), but because I'm someone who is also a chronic migraine sufferer myself to this same extent, and I have absolutely thought about it with Jax before, I did write something. But usually I don't open things up for requests, mostly because I'd never have time to write the other ideas I have. And I also worry that I won't write what someone else had in mind, which then just stresses me out 😅

So with this one, the draft turned into a 2k word piece. I need to edit it still, but it exists! Though I currently now have 4 things for Jax written, so I'll have to figure out when I'll post this one because I was aiming to get the last part of What's Left to Lose edited and shared maybe Monday since y'all have been waiting awhile for it.

(My brain also does this too, especially when I write 😆)

[lulualuana]

Games over Chatter

I'm like, itching for a saucy idea to write and I just don't have enough in my brain to make one .. except this one

wc: 599

cw: leon is a douchebag ofc, emotional manipulation, crying in the sexy and not sexy way, not much of note idk yall

enjoy?

Leon had to know that eventually everything he did would come back to bite him in the ass. The world loves to throw karma in his face at the worst possible moments. 

Like now, in which he’s sitting face to face with you, his dear girlfriend who won’t stop talking and partially crying after Leon had gotten fed up and told you to just shut up for a little while. What was he supposed to do? He was just trying to catch up on some random sports game on TV and you had the nerve to sit right up against him and start chatting his ear off about your stupid fucking friend group again. It’s not his fault that he snapped, you should’ve read the room. 

You don’t seem to have the same sentiment. No, instead you’re pacing back and forth in front of Leon (and the TV, much to his dismay), rambling on and on about how you’re sorry for interrupting him but that as your boyfriend he needs to be there for you because no one else is. Like hell he does! And unfortunately, he is bold enough to say it to your face too. 

“I’m sorry, princess, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck over whether or not Stacy and Anna invite you out for lunch or not,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you freeze in place, looking over at him with wide, glossy eyes. It’s the first time he’s ever spoken to you like that and it stuns you that the man who’s been so good to you (not really) could talk to you like that.

Now for Leon? There’s something so satisfying about seeing a little bit of light die within those sweet eyes of yours. It almost makes him hard, as sick as it is. Maybe that’s why it does. “I’m trying to watch something here, or at least I would be if you weren’t standing in front of the fucking TV and wasting my time. Mind moving?” 

You can’t help it when more tears pool in your eyes at his sharp tone, your mouth opening to protest before closing abruptly, unsure of what to say after having your feelings so aggressively dismissed. It reminds you all too similarly of your parents and your friends, and all you can do is sniffle and move away from the TV as a part of your heart breaks. 

Leon is fairly pleased when you move though, a smiling gracing his face once he can finally so the oh so important game. “Good girl, now how about you go clean up your tears, yeah? It’s not a pretty look. Go on. I’ll come talk to you later.” The whiplash from his tone is enough to render you obedient, leaving him to his game to go cry and eventually clean up your tears in your bedroom. 

Just like Leon promised, after the game was over, he came into the room to console you. Though, you’re not sure how comforting it is given that he lets you cry on his shoulder for a few minutes before he decides the remedy you truly need is his dick buried inside you. You start to wonder if it’s a remedy for your sadness, or if he just wanted to get his rocks off and not deal with your emotions. You don’t dwell on it for too long, not when he makes you come hard enough to start crying from the pleasure.

What’s there to dwell on, really? He’s not that bad of a boyfriend, right? 

~~~

thinking so many thoughts right now, its just that NONE of them are helpful

@klittykissy (i think that's the right @ :D)

[ranhert]

Likewise. I don't like to argue my points through shallow disrespect, I'm at the very least going to have thoughts put into my arguments even if they're not understood, which is fine if they aren't. And yes, you'd be right - because as a hobbyist creator myself, I feel as though the most respectful thing to do is to base headcanon around canon material, and to not be a spoiled brat if the author goes against widely accepted headcanon.

Offshoots and theories are totally cool and fine...as long as people aren't smug and sure about their claims, especially to the point where they bully anyone who disagrees with them, or even bully the author(s) themselves. In a fandom as big as MHA, blurring lines is to be expected and I don't have a problem with people doing so; it's even more blurred when there's so many people saying so many different things off of canon material, even if it's small. Though I understand that the little details matter, more than many people give them credit for. It's one of the many things that I myself appreciate and shape my own writing with, so I understand why people tend to go into microscope mode to try and branch out all possibilities.

I understand what you're saying. I don't see these interpretations myself because I personally can't, and when you've formerly been in a fandom like Steven Universe where the toxicity with disagreements on almost everything got so rampant to the point of harassing artists, it's like walking on eggshells; I had hoped MHA wasn't like that when I first got into it, but I've been wrong before, unfortunately. I have no issues those interpretations because they're so deeply personal, who am I to say that such a thing is wrong? My own issues stem not just from the harassment towards anyone, but the overall smugness people seem to have whenever they voice their interpretations. I'm not sure if you're on Twitter, but if you are, there's a user called Decchan (I think) and she's a perfect example of what I'm describing; I think even one of Hori's assistants even blocked her on there, she's that wild.

I appreciate the apology, thank you truly. That being said, I've heard of Izuocha shippers and MHA fans in general harassing and being unacceptably toxic towards BKDK shippers back when the series first started taking off - absolutely deplorable. I may have disliked BKDK romantically from the start, but I would never take my time out of my day to harass someone over things like fictional characters and a "hey, these two would be cute together" idea or things alike. They should be ashamed of themselves. And if that has ever happened to you, I'm deeply sorry too.

I understand where you're coming from. Using "it's just a headcanon" for saying disgusting things towards LGBT people is equally unacceptable as the vice versa. I don't engage with fandom and media that often, but I see your point; it's something that I had seen in the Owl House fandom involving two other ships where one was straight and the other was the W/W and many were going at each other's throats, even though the W/W ship was not only canon, but also the ship between the two protagonists in the story. I don't subscribe to that; when there's solid context of two characters getting together, I'll pretty much be sold on it regardless whether it's straight or not (partly why I like Izuocha so much). I may not like BKDK in a romantic sense, but I see where you're coming from those who do - favoring weaker context clues just because the characters are opposite sexes compared to stronger chemistry and context between same-sex is something I'll never understand.

I wouldn't mind exploring it, broadens the mind. But I also prefer to just bluntly say/be told if a character is LGBT or not - that's just my own preference though. I try to break stereotypes in my own works because it's fine line to walk when dealing with stereotypes in today's fandom culture, you don't know who you could set off and cause a domino effect. It's completely understandable when it's an admittedly bad stereotype (like how Hazbin Hotel's with Alastor is) but even still, I try to avoid stereotypes whilst asking people their own experiences.

I don't think you understand the amount of relief I felt when I read this last paragraph. It's so rare for me to come across someone who openly says they're okay with ships in any context; anti-proshippers will be the end of fandom one day, I'm calling it. Romantic, platonic, headcanon-heavy, canon-faithful, I'm all for it - even if a ship is "illegal", a lot of people who do ship those things are usually survivors themselves and it's their way of coping, same thing with writing dark themes. Shipping is supposed to be fun, nobody should be ashamed for trying to make life a little easier to deal with amongst other things.

Thanks for explaining your side as well, you've given me a lot to think about. It's a shame that respectful and civil conversations are so rare, but I hope that our own conversation can be the start to a such a change.

I FOUND IT MY SIGNATURE POST ALIHERABLIHFBAELIHBALEIHBAE

No but seriously those of you who have been liking and reposting know EXACTLY what I’m talking about

— ❇️✴️

[burningcheese-merchant]

Finally made a BurningCheese chart. I can finally die now /j

More detailed explanations under cut. I admit that my placements are a liiiiiiiiiittle all over the place because I ship BurningCheese a bunch of different ways, but for the most part it's really the enemies to lovers + redemption arc from my main canon influencing my thoughts here

Tropes: idk if this really needs much elaboration. Enemies to Lovers + Soulmates + Forbidden Love (the hero/villain type) + God Couple + Narrative/Character Foils + Golden Cheese has some tsundere tendencies at points + Burning Spice's yandere tendencies + Tall and Short + idk the exact names of all the tropes man lol. These are probably the most important ones

Age Difference: who actually knows lol. They're both old coots, that's the gist of it. They're so old that they both knew the Burger King when he was a prince. They're so old their birth certificates already expired. They're so old that if you told them to act their age, they'd keel over and die on the spot. Old people being madly in love even after so many years is so cute 😭

Height Difference: If your Burning Spice does not have to duck when walking through doorways then you're imagining him wrong. Hell I STILL might've made him too short. Golden Cheese must barely reach his shoulder while standing and fit snugly in his lap while sitting, It Is Decreed (I know 5'7" isn't THAT short, I'm just leaning into the short queen jokes)

Trust Lvl: This was a little tough for me because I was juggling multiple factors at once. I gave BS 100% trust because I think, no matter what, he genuinely would trust her. To love him, to be loyal, to be there when he needs her, to beat his ass black and blue when necessary, to listen to what he has to say about things. He's giving his whole entire self to her without hesitation or regrets. / There's that bit of the bar still empty for Golden Cheese because, even when she warms up to him (and she never once doubts his love for her, that's not the issue), she's not entirely sure of what he'll do. For a long while yet, some part of her will worry that he will turn on her and resume his reign of terror at any moment. She needs time and consistency. Proof that he will choose her over destruction if and when pushed. When he's fully able to do that, THEN she trusts him fully. (Outside of the main canon, it remains a bit empty (even LOWER in some instances) bc he very much remains evil and she cannot abide by that)

Jealousy Lvl: Burning Spice is jealous and possessive but not overly so. He doesn't really need to be; he knows his little bird is loyal. But she's a beautiful woman in more ways than one, and he's far from the only person to notice that. So he gets mad when he catches anyone making goo-goo eyes at her, or even flirting if they somehow have the gumption. He doesn't harm them anymore but he will step in and make some show of dominance, like grabbing her and pulling her into a kiss or scooping her up in his arms. Something to pointedly demonstrate that she is HIS and no one else's. / Golden Cheese is very confident and secure; she knows her worth and she knows and trusts that Burning Spice would never stray. But... in the end, she's still Golden Cheese. She's still greedy. She still doesn't want anyone coveting what is hers, no matter what. It's practically a compulsion at this point. So in those (thankfully rare) moments where some floozy who's forgotten her place tries to make a move on HER man, then she's more than happy to correct her. (The encounter ends with Spice covered in kiss marks (and super happy) and the wannabe homewrecker in tears because Golden can be a MEAN girl when she tries)

Horny Lvl: I might've made a mistake not marking Spice's a little bit higher because he's definitely a horndog lol. Of course he's not completely fucking bonkers but he does often struggle to keep his hands off of his bird wife. Physical touch is his main love language anyway + goddamn it she's gorgeous she's everything he ever wanted he NEEDS HER- / Golden Cheese very much enjoys sex and thinks their sex life is perfect, but she's not as needy as him. Like, she doesn't DIE for it unless it's been too long. She has self-control/discipline and other things to think about lol (there's actually a nsfw ship chart that I've thought about filling out and posting, but idk if I should. I have a billion headcanons for them, sfw and nsfw. I'm just nervous abt the latter because I feel kind of embarrassed lol. I usually save the freaky stuff for AO3)

Clingy Lvl: Again, physical touch is Burning Spice's main love language. That combined with his time in prison (millennia in isolation) and Golden Cheese being his literal soulmate makes for a good deal of separation anxiety lol. He will give her space if she really pushes, and of course he has things he wants to do on his own time and she can't always be around. But... no matter what, at the end of the day, he NEEDS her back in his arms. He gets bored and lonely really fast without her. She makes his day better just being near him. He needs to touch her, hold her, hear her voice, run his hands through her wings, taste those pretty lips again... / With all of the hardship she's endured in her life, Golden Cheese has developed a certain tolerance for solitude. Of course she'd rather have company, including his, but if push comes to shove, she can handle being alone. She's fiercely independent in many aspects of her life. Her time with Burning Spice can wait if something more important comes up. She won't die without him. (But she'll certainly miss him)

How It Happens: come on man, you played the game, didn't you? BS falling head over heels on sight, feelings only deepening with time and closeness, and him doing everything in his power to be near her as often as possible? For sure. Golden Cheese taking 10000 years to warm up to him, slowly starting to see the halfway decent man buried deep down beneath the blackened soil of his heart, starting to care for him and want him by her side without even realizing it at first, and trying to deny it when she finally does realize what's happening? Definitely

Relationship Attitude: Obviously they're both very much in love and devoted to each other, but Golden Cheese dials it back a bit in public - just for the sake of appearances, really. She's the queen; she can't go about acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl, she has a reputation to uphold. Burning Spice, on the other hand, absolutely does not give a fuck about what anyone has to say about anything at all. He WILL trap his little bird in a warm embrace and he WILL smother her with kisses and fuck whoever is standing there watching, they can fuck off and mind their own business

First to Confess: He may not have said the exact words "I love you" but good Lord he may as well have with how he behaves in episode 6 lmao. 555-COME-ON-NOW (and omg he is SO fucking happy she eventually says it back)

First to Kiss: Spice. Duh lol. Honestly the only reason he didn't kiss her during eps 5 and 6 is because Devsis are a bunch of cowards

First to Apologize: Another tough one bc they're both very proud/stubborn and would probably demand the other apologize before they do. But because Golden Cheese is a hero at her core, I think it's a bit more likely that she'd say it first. Usually.

Initiates Contact: Spice all the way. He even initiated when they first met lol. He's always the one seeking her out, starting conversations, getting those big strong arms of his around her. Not that she never initiates, he just does it a lot more

Spoils the Other: In total honesty I think they both spoil the other, just in different ways. Golden Cheese with food and trinkets and general pampering, Burning Spice with that physical affection of his. Plenty of flirting and compliments from both. But Goldie is Goldie so of course she wins lol. As if she wouldn't lavish her lover with the finest of everything all the time

Wakes Up First: As queen, Golden Cheese has long since grown accustomed to rising bright and early to attend to her kingdom and subjects. "Early bird gets the cheese" and all that. Burning Spice sleeps like the dead and always wakes up after her (usually to grumble about her getting up bc he doesn't want her to. He tries to hold her hostage in bed almost every morning)

Does the Cooking: Believe it or not, Burning Spice is actually a pretty good chef (I headcanon him as such haha). Golden Cheese really loves the food he makes (he's best with food from his own culture, but he does a good job with other things too) and she's used to other people cooking for her (she's pretty basic at it tbh. She doesn't burn water like Hollyberry but she can't do much) so hubby making her good food? Yes please

Does the Housework: I cannot imagine Golden Cheese NOT being a bit of a neat freak. Why wouldn't she want everything looking pristine 24/7, to fit her immaculate visions of an immaculate, prosperous land? Burning Spice is Burning Spice, he would sleep on the fucking floor and in piles of trash and dirty clothes (and probably has tbh) if left alone, he is literally Destruction why would he clean anything. He gets pissy when he sweeps the floor with a broom for 5 seconds he ain't doing no housework unless forced to (which he often is)

Does the Talking: Was going to leave just Goldie but tbh I don't see Spice just standing there while she talks. He'd want to talk himself. He'd want to participate. He's not shy, he's no introvert. They're both asserting themselves in conversations for sure

The More Popular: I chose to define "popular" as "regarded with affection and respect by many", thus handing it to Goldie. Spice has his soldiers and they are numerous, but they obey him only out of fear. Golden is genuinely loved and listened to. (Even post-redemption, people just gravitate to her more lol. Just how it is)

The Designated Driver: Burning Spice behind the wheel is a doomsday scenario. He has been preemptively banned from driving to prevent death and property damage and war crimes. Fine, whatever, he'd rather walk. He doesn't need this newfangled contraption no matter how cool it is. Come on let him drive a monster truck 200 mph through concrete walls :(

The Better Caregiver: I'm certain they'd both take care of each other when sick or injured. Doubly so since both would probably balk at being fussed over lol. (I know Golden has her attendants and likes being pampered but I feel like it would just hit different with Spice, you know?) They're both proud and stubborn and need to appear strong all the time... But when the shoe is on the other foot, they'd both do whatever they can for the other regardless of their protests. (Especially true on Spice's part when Golden is pregnant with their kids, he goes above and beyond for her both times)

The Overprotective One: This is more so when Golden is pregnant tbh. Any other time, they don't really worry much about each other's safety as they're very confident in each other's strength and fighting capabilities ("I'm not locked in here with you, you're locked in here with me"). When she's pregnant, Spice goes full Protective Husband/Papa Bear mode and both worships the ground she walks on and fusses over he constantly, almost treating her like a porcelain doll. Her needs and wants are always met immediately, but he basically becomes her second shadow and is even hostile to other people who interact with her. It's both sweet and frustrating

The Planner: Golden Cheese planned a whole ass highly detailed virtual reality where her subjects could live again. Burning Spice forsook planning and anything like it in his descent into villainy as he couldn't bring himself to care about it anymore. Destruction doesn't need a plan. So yeah, Golden is the planner for sure. Best Spice would do is maybe try to plan dates because he wants to please/impress her

"Excuse me, they asked for no pickles": Spice just likes watching Golden go and firmly correct people lol. It's funny and hot. He doesn't even really care that the pickles are there, he just loves her assertiveness

Big Spoon VS Little Spoon: Was going to leave Spice on Big Spoon end and Golden on Little Spoon end but tbh, they'd split it. Spice is Big Spoon more often than not but Golden would definitely be Big Spoon too. They holdin each othah

Early Bird VS Revenge Procrastination: refer to "Wakes Up First". Golden has a kingdom to run, can't sleep in. Spice technically does too but whatever they're tough they can do shit on their own, he wants to lay in bed with his bird wife go away

Tidy VS Chaotic: Refer to "does the housework". Golden Cheese cares about appearances and functionality, she wants her kingdom and living space clean and beautiful and the envy of the world. Burning Spice is Burning Spice

Screams Over Bugs VS Kills/Removes Bugs: I don't think Golden would do either tbh. Probably just shoo the bug away. Spice is squashing that fucker though, even post-redemption (old habits die hard)

Lends Clothes VS Borrows Clothes: Spice doesn't really have too many clothes to lend tbh (too big + not really her style). She mostly nabs any jewelry he has lol. He doesn't mind, he actually really adores that she'll wear his things. He sees it as a show of pride in their relationship. (Shhh... Sometimes, when they've been apart for a long time and his absence feels particularly painful, she'll grab one of his dhotis and wrap herself up in it. Bring it to her face, breathe in his scent. Revel in its softness. Don't tell anyone)

Takes Hints VS Clueless: ngl as forward as Spice is with Golden, I'm not sure he'd notice or care if anyone else flirted with him. He just doesn't seem like the type to have ever cared about that sort of thing, both as Herald and as Beast. Too wrapped up in other ideas and pursuits (and in the event that he actually caught on to someone hitting on him, Herald would've politely turned them down and Beast would viciously mock them and probably kill them). Like, Golden actually is the one person that ever caught his eye. And she's got more relationship experience under her belt and knows how to be subtle, so there actually are times when she says or does something and it goes over his head (it's cute and funny sometimes and frustrating others)

Romantic VS Casual: They're certainly not casual but I think Golden would put more effort into being romantic just as a consequence of who she is. That "wanting to pamper and adore my lover to the fullest extent" thing. Spice didn't care about love or romance before her, and was just never really a romantic type. He tries to pick it up more just for her. But what he perceives to be romantic doesn't always align with "tradition" (ex: he thinks their brutal fights are hot/romantic). He does have some charm, he can be smooth, he can do genuinely sweet and romantic things. But it's something he learns and refines over time

Decisive VS Indecisive (I FORGOT THIS ONE FUCK): They're both pretty decisive and firm in their decisions. What makes Golden hesitate is specifically her relationship and interactions with Spice. Grappling with the reality of her feelings and attachment and their relationship. Wondering if he'll turn on her when she lets her guard down. Struggling with the morality of it all. Fearing rejection to a small degree maybe. (I honestly like the concept of the Beasts and Ancients bringing things out of each other that no one else can or has. Like how Shadow Milk makes Pure Vanilla genuinely angry, or Burning Spice makes Golden Cheese doubt herself and her choices. I want them all keeping each other on their toes. Challenging each other. Making each other upset when they're happy and happy when they're upset. You know what I mean?)

Mature VS Playful: I think they're both equally playful with each other tbh. Something they're both on the same level with. Lots of banter (I love writing their back-and-forths, imo they'd keep up with each other so well), lighthearted sarcasm and jabs and jokes, some play fighting/roughhousing. They have fun with each other

Straightforward VS Vague: Spice has been telling Golden things to her face from minute 1. Just admitting all of his shit to her. Spilling his spaghetti. He likes her, he wants her, they're going to be together forever. Point blank period.

Confident VS Shy: Of course they're both super confident, do I have to elaborate? Lol

Ray of Sunshine VS Done™️: Golden may not be on the same level as Pure Vanilla (nobody is lol) but even so, all things considered, she seems like a relatively happy person. Still finds joy in life and things. She's not cold or stoic or anything like that. Spice... I probably should've moved him further to the right tbh. I just always think of "done" as "visibly tired" and I let that influence his placement. He IS tired, he IS done, it just presents differently. So forgive me and imagine his little Soul Jam there being significantly closer to the end of the right side please and thank you

Realistic VS Idealistic: dude come on lol. The game spells it out for us. Spice is a cruel, bloodthirsty nihilist who goes out of his way to take down things that make people happy. Who virulently denies the value of life and humanity and insists that everything and everyone are only destined to become dust, and any attempt to stop or deny this is futile and pathetic. He's cynical, pessimistic, doesn't do "hope" or ideals anymore. Golden, on the other hand, believes so strongly in her own dreams and ideals that she locked herself away in a false reality just so she could "revive" her kingdom. And when she woke, she continued dedicating herself to finding a way to bring them all back. She is hope and idealism incarnate, to the point of straight up delusion. They're both extremes that mirror each other

Would Die for Attention VS Independent: Look at all the crazy shit Spice has done so Golden would pay attention to him lol. He needs the pretty cheese lady to notice him and talk to him and touch him and beat him up. Please. Pretty please (not as pretty as her though, nothing is). Please they're soulmates she has to. He won't immediately burst into flames if she's not next to him 24/7, but he's happier with her than without. He starts itching when they're apart for too long (and it doesn't take all THAT long tbh). As said before, Golden likes and wants his company but she's always been a fiercely independent woman and can handle solitude

Tense VS Easygoing: wasn't super sure what to do for this one. Like idk what "tense" is supposed to mean here. I think Golden is relatively normal about everything, doesn't worry about cheating or anything else really. I attribute that little bit of tenseness in Spice to his jealousy and clinginess. But otherwise he's probably fine

Head VS Heart: neither of them are stupid, far from it, but it's clear that they both allow emotion to govern their actions more than logic lol. No matter how he may claim to have destroyed his own emotions to rid himself of attachment, it's clear that Burning Spice still feels things, in general but ESPECIALLY for/about her. It's all heart when it comes to her. No logic, no laws, no rules, just him and her and THEM. Just their connection, just their relationship. Golden Cheese may still abide by a somewhat stronger logical anchor, but even so, she's a "heart" girl. It's her heart that pushed her to make her fantasy world. It's her heart that makes her cling so hard to her treasures, despite logically knowing they're gone. It was her heart that saved her in episode 6, her thoughts and memories and love for her friends that made and still make her strong. And though logic fights a good fight with regards to her relationship with Spice, it's her heart that wins again in the end