#it doesn’t matter what they were like separately the second they’re together the guy gets super masc and the girl gets super fem

[futchmemes]

getting into a m/f ship when you’re gay is so fucking awful. there’s so much content and so much of it is horrible. i am sufferering more than jesus

[chemblrish]

Subatomic particles from a chemist's point of view - part I: the electron

This proposition actually came second in my poll, but it still had quite a lot of votes + I really wanted to write it, so here it is. Initially, I was going to make a single post, but when I finished writing the part about the electron I thought it was getting a tad long. I decided splitting this post might make it easier to digest :)

Peeking inside the atom

What is a subatomic particle? As the name hints, it’s any particle smaller than an atom. This means that electrons, protons, and neutrons all fall into this category. Protons and neutrons are made of quarks and there are also many different subatomic particles that the relentless researchers of CERN keep on cooking up, but I’m not going to talk about them because do I look like a physicist to you? Let them get excited (and despaired) about the wild assortment of the little guys making up the Standard Model. I’ll stick to the particles that chemistry finds especially important: electrons, protons, and neutrons.

Electron

Ah yes, chemistry’s specialest guy, the rockstar of this science: the electron. Arguably the most important particle for chemistry. If you’ve taken high school science then I don’t need to explain why that’s so, but just in case you actually slept through those classes (shame on you) I have one word for you: bonds. Okay, maybe two words will work better here: chemical bonds.

Chemical bonds

Atoms bind together to make the gaseous oxygen we breathe, the sucrose that dissolves in our coffee and the caffeine in said coffee, the proteins that build your body, and the ibuprofen we all worship using electrons. In fact, if chemistry is the study of matter and the reactions and changes it can undergo, then there is no chemistry without electrons. Chemistry exists because electrons do what they do.

So what do they do? Again, even if you never went any further than high school science classes, you probably remember that atoms are made up of shells (sort of like an onion or an ogre only it’s a stupidly complicated onion) with a nucleus in the middle. Those shells are made up of subshells and subshells are made up of orbitals. Phew. Within shells sit the electrons, but it’s the outermost ones that make chemists all excited (or despaired), because they’re the ones taking part in chemical reactions and forming chemical bonds. We call them valence electrons.

Valence electrons can do all sorts of things to make atoms form molecules. The valence electrons of two separate atoms can bind them together by mixing their orbitals and then sitting there in the single smoothie of the new orbital, now shared by both of the atoms. This process is called hybridization and the bond that’s formed here is called the covalent bond.

Actually, you get two new orbitals or rather as many as there were before this mixing and shuffling. Hybridization is a relatively difficult concept for newbies though, so don’t worry about that.

However, some atoms are greedy and they aren’t willing to share their electrons with anyone. They can form chemical bonds by stealing other atoms’ electrons and turning into ions: and thus turning those other – more generous – atoms into ions as well. This we call the ionic bond. There’s a third option too, chosen readily by metals because metals are commies: the metallic bond. Atoms forming this kind of bond stick together thanks to an electron “cloud” made up of the valence electrons of all those atoms, permeating the lattice this creates and conducting electricity (because they’re called electrons for a reason, right?).

Properties of the electron

Charge: negative one elementary electric charge, AKA -1.602×10^(−19) C (thank you Mr. Millikan).

Mass: 9.109 ×10^(−31) kg (uwu).

Radius: are you out of your mind?

I mean. Theoretical / particle physicists are very much concerned with figuring out the radius of the electron. Good for them! But it doesn’t matter here.

Look. There’s a handful of things that they drill into your head during a chemistry degree: no food in the lab; safety goggles on or I’ll fucking kill you; you only get to keep your dignity until you splash yourself with acid; there is no god, there is only Atkins; everything is a model; and finally – THE ELECTRON IS NOT JUST A PARTICLE OKAY it’s not a teeny tiny marble orbiting the nucleus going wheee!, it’s a quantum bastard that interferes with itself like a wave, then shoots across the apparatus you thought was clever like a particle once you set a trap, it’s an indecisive, secretive, sly asshole that makes chemistry, at its very core, a quantum nightmare of inhuman integrals, spheres, and some donut-shaped absurdities in the place of the onion-like atom model you know from school, I mean look at this thing for god’s sake

Anyway.

We don’t know the exact radius of the electron. Estimates have been made but no final answer. Why? Please ask a physicist. Your resident tumblr chemist signing off for now.

[elizabethwritesmen]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜

chapter 3: the big picture

pairing: firefighter!steve x reader

summary: after a not-date with steve and a few revelations, y/n can’t hold her feelings in anymore. to make matters worse, tragedy strikes at the worst moment.

warnings: ANGST. smut to come.

a/n: i’m sorry in advance for the ending of this chapter, and i promise it will get better! i wanted to have all the parts out by christmas but it didn’t work out that way. still, though, i plan to finish this series as soon as possible IF you guys still want it! i’m grateful for all interaction but i noticed it went down on part 2 so let me know whether i should finish this or start working on something else please! (:

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 4

I knew it was silly when I grabbed the slinky dress out of my closet. It was delicate, white knit fabric with lacy pink flowers, and not quite my usual style. I was more of a comfort everywhere I go kind of girl, but for once, I wanted to make the extra effort. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Steve was going to come see me at work. Nothing at all.

I slipped a baby pink cardigan over it, letting it hang loosely off my shoulders, and pulled on some lacy pink socks, rolling them down and fitting them into white tennis shoes. I thought I looked cute, delicate but still quite pretty.

I walked into the living room where Robin was waiting, and she raised her brow at me, no words forming but her face saying it all.

“What?” I huffed, crossing my arms.

“Steve must be coming by the shop today.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because that’s the only reason you’d put on an outfit like that.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well does it at least look okay?”

“You look great, don’t get me wrong. Steve is gonna have to do a Darcy hand flex when he sees you. But you’re also being really obvious.”

“It doesn’t get more obvious than the Y/N and Steve sitting in a tree jokes you were making yesterday.”

“I guess that’s true,” she shrugged, “Everyone knows you two are gonna get together anyways. It’s just a matter of waiting now.”

“We are so not.”

“Yeah, ok, sure. Whatever you say.”

We drove to work separately, and the day passed by slowly. I anxiously awaited the moment Steve would walk through the door. It was almost embarrassing, really, every time someone came in and I heard the bell I looked up all giddy and hopeful.

Finally, about a half hour before we closed, when I’d given up all hope, he showed up.

I looked up, not at all expecting it to be him, but there he was.

He stood there for a moment, taking me in. His eyes scanned over me slowly, greedily. I smiled, knowing I got exactly the reaction I wanted.

“Hey,” he managed to get out, still distracted.

“Hey,” I shot back, “I started to think you weren’t coming.”

“Of course I’m here,” he met my eyes at that and chuckled lightly, a beautiful sound that met my ears and melted into them. “I brought you something.”

“Another cat?”

This time I earned a laugh instead of a chuckle, full and sweet, “Unfortunately no, but I think you’ll like it anyway.” He then pulled his hand out from behind his back, and, for the record, I’d been so caught up in my thoughts I hadn’t even noticed it was there. In it he was holding a perfectly tailored bouquet of pink tulips, mixed in with a few other delicate flowers.

I gasped, staring at it for a second before walking around the counter to grab it from him. It was already in a vase of water, which made me think it was from a flower shop instead of a supermarket aisle. Additionally, there was a pretty bow tied around the base.

“I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, holding them in front of me and examining them, unable to look away. “They’re perfect.”

“I forgot to get you flowers the day of your graduation. I wanted to make up for it now.”

“You’re still the only person who’s ever given me flowers.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Remember that time we went to the store and I said the flowers were pretty so you grabbed the prettiest bunch of them and bought them?”

“You asked me who they were for and I wouldn’t tell you ‘til we got back to your house and I stole one of your mom’s vases and put them in your room.”

“That’s still the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Until now, at least. This even tops that.”

“I’m sorry nobody else got you flowers. You deserve to get them, and often.”

“You’re so sweet,” I smiled, placing them on the counter for everyone to see. They were such a statement piece, so beautiful you had to admire them. My heart was in shambles, completely wrecked from his kind gesture, and I forgot how to be normal, fidgeting nervously.

“I’m meeting up with a couple guys from the station in an hour at a restaurant outside of town. Would you wanna come with me?”

“Really?” I quirked a brow, “I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Well, one is bringing his wife and the other is bringing his girlfriend. I know you’re not either of those, but you’re the only person I’d want there.”

I grinned, “I’d love to. Is what I’m wearing okay, or do I need to go home and change first?”

“What you’re wearing is perfect. I’ll wait here with you until you get off and we can ride over there together, if you want.”

“Of course I want that!”

And he did, sitting on a stool beside me as I worked. It was a slow day, so I was just helping Robin filter through inventory. It only took a few minutes for her to walk in and start picking on us.

“Where did these come from?” she said, glancing from the flowers to us and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I brought them for Y/N,” he simply told her.

“Is that so? They’re very pretty. They look like girlfriend flowers to me.”

“They’re not girlfriend flowers,” I huffed.

“Sure, sure. Would you come help me in the back for a minute? I have a question about a record shipment.”

“Fine,” I sighed, standing up and grazing my nails over Steve’s shoulders on the way.

As soon as we were behind a closed door, Robin went in on me.

“Flowers?!” she exclaimed.

“Will you just tell me about this record shipment?” I rolled my eyes.

“There is no record shipment. Now let’s get back to the flowers.”

“What about them?”

“I don’t know any men who would buy a girl flowers platonically, especially not flowers that nice.”

“Yes you do. Steve.”

“But he wouldn’t, though. He’s never bought me flowers, or Max, or anyone. I don’t even remember him giving Nancy flowers in high school.”

“Well… it’s just a gesture, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Who are you kidding, me or yourself? You need to tell that boy how you feel before this becomes a shit storm like it did last time!”

“It’s not that easy, Rob. I don’t know that he feels the same way. Flirting and feeling are different.”

“Y/N,” she sighed, “Eyes never lie and when his land on you they stay on you. You’re it for him. I just wish you both would realize that. Now go back out there. I’m assuming you have plans with him after work so you can go ahead and go if you want.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Always. And obviously you have to text me all day and update me on your dazzling love story.”

“Shut up,” I smacked her on the arm as I walked out to the counter. Steve looked up at me, and I almost saw what she was talking about. His eyes landed differently on me than on anything else. No divided focus, no looking away. Just pupils, blown wide and taking me in like a mountain range or an ocean.

“You ready?” I asked, and he nodded.

“We’ll be a little early, but that’s fine. We can just go ahead and get the table.”

“Sounds good,” I smiled, following him out to his truck. He opened the passenger door for me and helped me in because it was a little too tall for me to step into gracefully on my own.

It smelled good in there. Like black ice and pure Steve Harrington, cinnamon and a hint of cedar mixing with his natural scent. I glanced around, noticing his work clothes in the back, for emergencies surely. It was a little messy, but not much, he seemed to keep it pretty tidy.

He hopped into the driver’s seat, cranking the trunk up and as he went to back out, he placed his hand on my seat and turned his body towards me to look behind us.

“There’s a backup camera, Steve,” I mumbled, eyes wide at his gesture. I didn’t know what was so endearing about it, but my heart skipped a beat.

“I don’t trust it,” he shrugged, putting it in drive and pulling out of the lot.

He headed directly to the restaurant and it was about a 20 minute drive altogether. Once we pulled up, I furrowed my brows.

“When did this get here?” I asked him, giving the place a full once over.

“Couple years after you left,” he shrugged, getting out. I did the same, walking to the front of the truck and letting him lead me inside.

Once the doors shut behind us, we were greeted by a hostess that was entirely too cheerful.

“Steve!” she screeched, her voice high pitched and bird like. I cringed, fighting the urge to cover my ears. “I wasn’t expecting you today!”

He gave her a polite smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I could tell she annoyed him too, and I snorted slightly, causing her to glance at me for the first time.

“Oh, hello,” she remarked, her voice dropping an octave or two, “Table for two?”

“For six,” he interjected, and she nodded, marking something down on the paper in front of her and walking away.

“She’s cheerful,” I commented thoughtfully, gauging Steve’s reaction, “For you at least.”

“She just has a little crush on me is all. Me and the other guys from the station come here a lot, and she flirts every time. Her family owns the place.”

“You must never have brought a girl here before, with the way her face dropped when she saw me.”

“I haven’t. And I’ve been coming here with the guys for years, so seeing me with you for the first time was probably not what she was expecting.”

“She’s cute. Why don’t you give her a chance?”

“She’s like 20. I prefer girls that are only 3 years younger than me.” He winked upon saying that, and I fought off a blush.

“Your table is ready,” the girl cleared her throat and we nodded, following her to the back of the restaurant.

“Thank you,” I smiled at her, and she vaguely returned it, walking away briskly. I felt bad for the girl really, I’d been her age with a crush on Steve Harrington and it wasn’t an easy life to live.

“This place is nice,” I observed, taking in the roadhouse-like interior. There were oddities and signs hung up all over, creating a homey atmosphere that you couldn’t find many places.

“I like it,” he shrugged, “The food is good. I remember you loving macaroni, and theirs is some of the best.”

“What if I don’t like macaroni anymore?”

“I don’t think your tastes have changed.”

“You’re right, they haven’t.”

We stared at each other for a second before being interrupted by a booming voice, “Harrington!”

We looked up and there was an older man, probably in his late 40s, staring at us, smile on his mustached face. He was bald, and I hated to say that he looked like a typical fireman. If I saw him on the street, I would assume that’s what he did for a living.

“Hey, Larry,” Steve smiled, getting up to shake his hand and pat him on the back the way guys do.

“Who’s this?” the man, Larry, gestured to me, “You finally found yourself a good woman?”

“This is my friend, Y/N,” Steve introduced.

“Y/N,” Larry nodded in recognition, “I’ve heard that name a time or two. Hello, I’m Larry and this is my wife Jan.” He reached out to shake my hand and I obliged, standing to do so.

“Nice to meet you both,” I grinned as we all sat down around the circular table.

“So Y/N,” Larry began, “I thought you’d moved away?”

“I did, but I’m back now.”

“Back to stay?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Maybe Steve can help you with that choice,” he smirked, a playful air in his voice as he glanced at Steve, who blushed in return, rubbing the back of his head.

“I think he already is,” I smiled shyly, brushing my hand over Steve’s arm, an affectionate gesture to soothe his nerves.

Moments later, the other guy showed up. His name was Brad, and he did the same spill about “Oh! Who’s this?” They both seemed to be in disbelief that I was just Steve’s friend, and I couldn’t blame them much. I knew how our relationship looked to outsiders. You’d have to be stupid not to see it.

“So Y/N, got any boyfriends back in Florida?” Camille, Brad’s wife, asked.

“Not really, no. I was never focused on that, I threw myself into my work.”

“I see,” she nodded, “You’re a pretty girl, though, I can imagine you had someone in college.”

“Cam, stop prying, you’re gonna scare the girl away,” Brad tapped her on the arm in a gentle reprimand.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” I smiled, “There was a couple flings, but that’s about it. I couldn’t really get serious about anyone.”

“Wonder why,” she muttered under her breath, glancing at Steve. “You know,” her voice picked up, “Jan and I have tried to set Steve up and he’s never been interested. Guess that’s something you both have in common.”

“We’ve got a lot in common,” I shrugged. Her questioning was in good nature, but it was still rude and she was, by all means, a cunt. Harsh, but there are no other words for some women.

“Okay, anyways,” Steve changed the subject briskly, “What’s everybody ordering?”

The dinner went smoothly. Once Jan and Camille got to know me, they seemed to take more of a liking to me and their rudeness subsided. None of them ever stopped pushing the me-and-Steve agenda, though, and I was sure they never would. I’d like to say it was frustrating but really, I didn’t mind. From their lips to God’s ears, or whatever.

When it came time to pay, Steve asked that my food be on his check. I insisted otherwise, but he wouldn’t listen and paid for me anyway. That was so like him. He would never let me pay for anything.

We said our goodbyes and left, and naturally, Steve opened the truck door for me. I shot him a smile and a wink, stepping in carefully.

“Where to now?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Wherever you want to go,” I shrugged.

“How about you see my place for a change?” he suggested, eyebrow quirked in his question.

“That sounds good,” I nodded, and sat back as he headed there.

We pulled up at a small house, on the edge of the suburbs, cute and cozy and nestled beside a treeline.

“This is precious, Steve,” I grinned as I skipped behind him to the doorstep, waiting for him to unlock it so I could see the inside. As soon as he did, I was in awe of the decorating, deep maroons mixing with gold accents and shades of dark brown. “Wow. You decorated this?”

“Well, Robin helped a lot,” he chuckled, standing there awkwardly as I walked in and had a good look around.

“I love it,” I smiled genuinely, running my fingers over trinkets here and there.

“Want a tour?” he asked, and I nodded giddily.

He first showed me the front, which consisted of a living room and a kitchen with a small corner for dining. Then he took me down the hall to the small laundry room and small guest bathroom. Finally, he showed me the guest room and ended at his own bedroom.

“I’m gonna change real quick if you wanna just hang out,” he told me, grabbing some clothes from a drawer and walking into the master bathroom, pulling the door to behind him.

I took that moment to greedily take everything in, assessing details and committing them to memory. He had black sheets and a dark maroon comforter set, and I liked how the aesthetic of his entire house matched. It was very Steve, all cinnamon spice and warm ambiance.

My eyes drifted to his bedside table where he had an alarm clock and a couple books, then to his closet with an open door and clothes haphazardly laying on the floor. He’d always been slightly messy, so it was expected, but I still smirked. Then, I finally got to the dresser, which he’d mounted a TV above. On the surface, he had several frames filled with pictures from every point in his life. One of his family, whom he still didn’t see much. One of him and my dad golfing, and I furrowed my brows. “Steve?” I called, and he hummed in response, “Why is there a picture of you and my dad golfing in here?”

“Oh,” he started, “We golf together sometimes.”

I was slightly shocked, but I moved onto the next photo, promising myself I’d ask my dad about it as well for more information. In the frame was a work photo, everyone from the station lined up neatly in their turnout gear and posed with stoic looks on their faces. Well, all except Steve and Eddie, who offered smiles. I guess they didn’t get the memo. Then came a picture of him the kids at their graduation, everyone smiling big. I felt a pang in my heart as I wished I’d been there. Then was a picture of him with Candy thrown over his shoulders and Eddie and Robin making silly faces with him. And finally, in the biggest frame of all, a photo of me.

I gasped lightly. I remembered the exact moment. It was the day of my graduation, and I was looking at Steve, laughing at something he had said. My smile was big and there was a look in my eyes that I only gave him. I appeared positively love struck, as if under a spell, and maybe I was. Maybe I never wasn’t.

“That’s always been my favorite,” his voice came from behind me, and I jumped, dropping the frame but he scooped it up with ease before it could hit the ground.

“I didn’t even know that photo existed,” I honestly stammered, my face heating up. Why did he have a picture of me in his room?

“Your mom took it while you weren’t paying attention. She sent it to me the next day and said she imagines that’s how you’ll look at me when we get married.”

“She what?”

He laughed, “I know, I know. But come on, we were two halves of the same whole back then. What was she supposed to think?”

“How long have you had that in here?”

“I kept it in the drawer in my nightstand for a while. Seeing it hurt too much. But then when I put the picture of me, Eddie and Rob up, it felt wrong not to have you there, so I put it up, too.”

“So you printed it just to keep it in the drawer by your bed?”

“Just to look at when I really needed to,” he shrugged, sheepish and melancholic.

“Steve,” I whispered, “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Yeah, neither can I. You know how many girls saw it and ran off before I even had a chance with them?”

I giggled, the sound lifting the tense mood. He placed it back on the dresser in its rightful spot, “I want to take a newer one of the both of us and put it on my nightstand.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So I can look at you every morning and night. Why else?”

“Stop leading me on, Steve,” I scoffed, staring at my feet.

“I’ve never lead you on,” he countered, his voice soft, his brows furrowed as if I’d said something so incredibly silly.

“Yes, you have, you always have. Since the day I met you at that stupid ice cream shop with those stupid hats, you’ve lead me on. You act like you’re gonna kiss me but never do, you act like you want me but you don’t. You say I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and that you’ll never care more about anyone than you do about me, but it’s not true and I don’t know what you get out of doing all of that but you’ve got to stop!”

I don’t know where the explosion came from. I suppose it was pent up and had always been, bound to come out one way or another. He stood dumbstruck in front of me, mouth agape, eyes wide. I didn’t give him much chance to collect his thoughts and respond, I just ran, finding my way out of his house. He followed me, begging me to stop, to slow down, but I didn’t.

“Leave me alone, Steve,” I barked, tears starting to stream down my face.

“Please just stay,” he sighed, defeated from chasing after me.

“No. I’m walking to my car.” The music shop was close to his house, only a few blocks away from his neighborhood. It would be maybe a 10 minute walk, but I would rather it be a hundred minute walk than spend any more time with him.

I made it pretty quickly, my anger and embarrassment speeding up my pace. Steve had tried to call me, but I sent him to voicemail and put him on Do Not Disturb so I would miss any text messages. I didn’t want to hear his voice or see the pretty words he’d put together to make up for a lifetime of stringing me along. Maybe he had feelings for me, maybe he didn’t, but I was done waiting to see.

I drove home and went straight to sleep, not caring about anything else. Finally, the calls stopped. I guess he decided leaving me alone would be the best thing he could do for a while. Part of me hoped he would show up at my door, but there was so such luck in the world.

Hours later, I was woken up to the sound of pounding on the front door. I furrowed my eyebrows, checking my phone for the time and seeing I had missed 40 calls from Robin and Eddie.

I jumped straight out of bed and ran to answer, seeing Robin on the other side, bouncing frantically on her feet. “You need to come to the hospital with me, now,” She urgently grabbed my hand and pulled me towards her car.

“What’s going on?” I asked, worry flashing through my heart, noting the one person who hadn’t called me. Something happened to him. I knew it.

“Steve got called into work to help fight a huge fire right outside of town. He got stuck inside and the structure collapsed on him.”

My heart dropped straight into my belly, making me ill. “Let me grab my stuff.”

I ran back inside, taking five seconds to change into a pair of flair leggings and a white v neck then slipping into my tennis shoes. The fluffy pajamas I was wearing just weren’t suitable for a hospital, though I did need to rush. I raced out the door, wallet and purse in hand, phone in pocket, and climbed straight into the passenger seat of Robin’s car.

“How bad is he?” I asked her, and she gave me a grim look.

“Well, he’s not good. He’s in critical condition and as far as I know he’s comatose.”

“Oh God,” I sighed, tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t believe the things I’d said to him. Guilt overwhelmed me and threatened to spill over and break me into a million pieces.

“He was on the way to your house,” she told me, “When they called him and asked where he was and if he could come in, he told them that.”

Suddenly, it clicked. He was on the way to my house. He wanted to set it right. He didn’t want to leave well enough alone. Well enough was never enough for him when it came to me.

“Please hurry,” I sighed, on the edge of my seat.

Finally, she pulled into the parking lot and I jumped out before she even came to a complete stop, running straight to the doors. Eddie was there in the lobby, a small bag and drink in hand, and I guessed he was headed back from the cafeteria.

“Eddie!” I called out, and he turned to me, his face morphing into a sorrowful expression.

“You made it,” he gave a sad smile, pulling me into a huge hug that I didn’t realize I needed.

“How is he?” I asked, “Where is he?”

“Come with me, I’m headed back to him now,” he stated, hand on the small of my back guiding me, “He’s got some bad burns and he bled a lot. They also think he hit his head pretty hard, which is why he’s in a coma. But they think he’ll be ok.”

“When do they think he’ll wake up?”

“They don’t know,” he sighed, and my face fell. He instinctively pulled me closer, trying to soften the emotions I was feeling. Eddie was always that for me. He softened life when it was too hard. I’d forgotten how much I needed that.

He brought me to a waiting room where a few firemen were sitting, but other than them it was empty. Robin followed in after us as we found seats.

“You doing okay?” Larry asked, clapping me on the back gently and staring at me with those same sympathetic eyes Eddie and Robin had given me.

“I am,” I nodded, “Just worried.”

“I know. He’s strong. He’ll be ok. Especially knowin’ you’re here waitin’ on him to get better.”

“I hope so,” I sighed, pulling my phone out to let my parents know what was going on. I left them a few text messages, knowing they’d be too sleepy to wake up and come to the hospital but wanting them in the loop. They still kept up with Steve, they’d want to know.

As the night wore on, everybody kept checking on me. Even firemen I didn’t know were asking me how I was. It was almost like they thought I was his girl or something, the way they fawned over me. I was saddened by his family’s absence. Eddie said he managed to get in touch with them, but they were off on some trip and sent their regards. It was sickening, really, how they could have someone so positively wonderful as a son and not care enough to even try.

The doctor walked in and his eyes landed on me, singling me out.

“You the girlfriend?” he asked, and Robin nodded, pushing me forward. “He’s stable. We’ve treated his burns and all his cuts, and he’s not bleeding out anymore. But he’s still comatose, and we’re still not sure how long he’ll be out for. You’re welcome to come see him though, if you’d like, for a few minutes.”

“Yes,” I nodded frantically.

“Only you can come back, though. At least until visiting hours tomorrow. Is that ok?”

“Uhh…” I hummed, looking around, “Someone else should probably go in, somebody more important.”

“No, you go. Believe me, there’s nobody else he’d want in there,” Eddie gave me a small smile, and everyone nodded slightly in agreement, so I followed the doctor back to a small room.

Steve looked pitiful, more gauze than man, but even in his battered state he was still handsome. The tears I’d been holding in finally fell as I looked at him.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” the doctor excused himself, and suddenly we were alone.

I walked to his bedside, sitting on the side and grabbing his hand, holding it tightly in mine.

“You have to wake up, Steve. Please,” I choked out through quiet sobs, “I need you. I love you, more than anything I love you. Please just wake up.” I have his hand a squeeze. “You’ve always been there for me, and I promise I’ll be here for you. Every day, until they throw me out, I swear. I won’t leave your side, not now or ever. You’re my best friend, you’re the love of my life. I need you to wake up.”

I stared at his lifeless form, listening to the low beep like it was background noise and squeezing his hand once more.

“Please wake up.”

One year before graduation

I don’t know how we convinced our parents to let us spend a full week at the cabin alone. I told mine I was gonna be with Robin, but I had no idea who he said he was gonna be with. Or even if he made up a story at all, considering they didn’t care much.

“It’s so pretty out here,” he smiled at me, dazzling me with how bright it was. So much so I could almost see it reflected on the lake.

“I like it,” I shrugged, “I remember coming here with my grandpa to fish. That was his favorite thing about this place.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve sighed, coming closer to me and pulling me in closer, “The funeral was nice, though. He would’ve liked it.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” I grinned, leaning into him before pulling away abruptly. “It’s okay, I’ll get over it.”

“I can’t believe he left all this to your family. This is the coolest inheritance ever.”

“I don’t know, he used to tell me there was a monster in the woods that would come get me if I snuck out here alone at night.”

“I won’t let any monsters get you,” he laughed, “We should do something. Make this place ours.”

“Like what?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around. His eyes landed on a tree, the biggest and prettiest one out there, nestled right by the water. He pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans and hustled over to it, beginning to carve.

I let him do his thing for a moment before he victoriously cheered, “Got it!” And when I read it, it was our names together beside a heart.

“Cute,” I smirked, running my fingers over the love tainted bark, “If people see this, they’re gonna think we’re together.”

“Let them,” he shrugged, “I don’t care. There are worst things they could say than that.”

“Maybe we will be one day,” I mused.

“Probably.”

“We would make a pretty cute couple.”

“And some pretty cute babies.”

“You’ve thought about what our babies would look like?” I full belly laughed.

“I’ve thought about making them, too,” he winked, leaning in to kiss my forehead and then turning back to his handiwork.

“You’re the worst.”

“You mean you haven’t thought about it?”

“What? Knocking boots?”

“Yeah. The horizontal tango. The super nasty.”

“Only when I’m super desperate or bored. Wouldn’t want to rot my brain.”

“Whatever. The point is, our kids would be next level. Grade A genetics. With my hair and your… everything else? Unstoppable.”

“What would we name them?”

“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, leading me to the water and sitting with me on the bank, “I don’t have a preference. Whatever you wanted would be fine.”

“So if I wanted to name our son Eustace and our daughter Muriel?”

“Then we’d get a dog and name it Courage. Dye its hair purple and everything.”

“You’re unreal.”

“Nah, I just want you happy. Happy wife, happy life, right?”

I giggled, slapping his arm. “It’s a good thing we’re not getting married. Those are horrible names for kids.”

“Yeah, I much prefer Donny and Marie.”

“Yeah, we could have a little bit of country and a little bit of rock and roll.”

“Right? They’d start making music right out of the womb.”

“Don’t talk about my womb!”

“Well if I’m putting kids in it then I have a right to talk about it!”

“Your kids aren’t coming anywhere near this womb, Harrington. She’s closed for business.”

“Oh, it’s a she, huh?”

“Of course it’s a she! This thing can push kids out and bleed for days without dying! A man could never!”

“Whatever. I’m going to get my trunks and take a swim. Wanna join me?”

“Of course,” I grinned, letting him help me up and running inside with him. I blushed as we passed the tree. “One day I’m gonna have to explain that carving to my husband.”

“Just tell him you were mine first,” he shrugged, and my smile widened. I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me, but even if he didn’t, I didn’t care. Whatever he felt for me was immortalized in an ages old oak, surrounded by hanging moss and hues of green. Nobody could ever take that away from me.

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (138-139)

Vancouver!

138. Change of Scenery (Redux)

Original Change of Scenery was Jared heading back to Edmonton, so he’s got to say he likes this one better.

Bryce is more nervous than Jared’s ever seen him.

Okay, maybe not like, as nervous as he was stepping out of the car and offering his hand to Jared’s dad after he caught them with Jared’s hand in his pants, or the wrung tight anxiety of the final days of trade negotiations — which, holy shit no wonder — but it’s close, Bryce practically vibrating out of his skin as they get ready for media day. If Bryce tries to fix his hair one more time —

He wants them to like him so bad. Like, never wanted it more, and that’s saying something, because Bryce desperately wants to be liked.

“I want this to be my team, you know?” Bryce says. “Like, we’re going to be here for awhile, and—”

He wants them to like him SO BAD.

Jared kisses his scrunched up forehead. “They’ll like you. Just like. Be Bryce. Real Bryce. Real Bryce is great.”

Excellent advice from someone who otherwise does not consider himself an authority on making people like you. But as someone who doesn't like other people and is still pretty fucking charmed by Real Bryce, he has experience on this one.

They’ve made ground rules: they’re going to go to team stuff separately, at least to start. Revisit later, but right now Bryce will go in alone and Gabe will pick Jared up, which he started doing last season for Environment Reasons, like they aren’t flying in chartered planes on the regular. They’re not going to sit together on the plane either, Jared back in the rotation with Gabe, who goes between him and Dmitry depending on if he wants chill company or not.

Eating together at dinners, that’s fine, because it’s not like, a partner thing, so Jared will continue to eat with Gabe and Bryce will join. They’re not going to lean into any media about a bromance. They don’t need to like, stick together twenty four hours a day, they get to spend more time together than they ever have, so team time’s like, different. Will some teammates figure out they’re together anyway? Probably, judging by the past, but they’re going to do their best to avoid it, and just take it as it comes.

And no sleepovers on the road, Jared doesn’t care how much Bryce pouts about it.

No matter how old and jaded Jared gets, he still remains terribly naive about certain things. It’s so cute that you think there won’t be any sleepovers on the road, Jared.

“He went ahead,” Jared says. “We figured we’d like, come in separately for a bit, be like, subtle.”

Gabe and Stephen exchange a look. Jared’s not sure what it’s meant to convey, but it succeeds at annoying him.

I think we all know this look conveys ‘our boy somehow still thinks they can be subtle’.

“I know,” Gabe says. “Just — don’t get your hopes up about not getting caught? The guys aren’t dumb.”

“I know,” Jared says.

“And you’re kind of obvious,” Gabe says.

“I know,” Jared mutters.

Stop bursting his bubble by stating facts, Gabe.

“Oh my god, are you like, momming and dadding me right now?” Jared says.

“Are you the mom?” Stephen asks.

“I think I’m the mom,” Gabe says.

Gabe is 100% the mom. In their parenting of this sullen teenager and in his role as an A on the Canucks. He’s also totally the mom friend. He accepts this.

“You guys fucking suck at hiding your relationship,” Stephen says. “And yeah, yeah, that’s at me and Gabe’s, safe space, but it took Gabe, what, thirty seconds?”

“At least a minute,” Gabe says.

“It took Gabe fifteen seconds to figure out you guys were together the first time he met Bryce,” Stephen says.

Stephen accurately assuming Gabe is being diplomatic with this minute business.

“It’s best not to lie to the children,” Stephen says. “Santa’s not real, neither is the Easter Bunny, you two are going to get caught.”

Jared rolls his eyes.

“The hockey gods probably exist though,” Gabe says.

“Oh, absolutely,” Stephen agrees.

They 100% exist. Because this is my ‘verse and I say so.

“They don’t,” Jared mutters.

“If they didn’t you wouldn’t be on the same team as your husband,” Stephen says.

Jared cannot retort, because ‘no that’s because his agent and him did some pretty unethical shit to make it happen’.

Excellent use of brain to mouth filter here. Also it’s ‘he and his agent’. Grammar fail.

“He’s sulking, Gabriel,” Stephen says.

“Yeah, he does that,” Gabe says.

Excellent use of brain to mouth filter by Gabe not pointing out that Stephen is prone to that himself. But he's generally good at the brain to mouth filter thing.

Jared scowls out the window.

“Chin up, Math,” Gabe says. “You’re about to see your husband.”

Jared bites his lip hard so he doesn’t smile. He doesn’t think it works.

Gabe’s a good hockey mom.

“I wonder what his nickname’s going to be,” Stephen muses. “Since they’ve already got a Marksy.”

Bryce was indeed Marksy on the Flames (Marcsy?). But Gabe’s got dibs in Van.

“Probably something skill related,” Gabe says. Clearly he is uninterested in ceding the Marksy name. “Maybe military? Snipeshow, Gunner. Or something tactical if they figure out early that he’s got a killer hockey IQ.”

Jared gives into the inevitable smile.

Gabe nailing it here — Bullet it is. And a bit of a self-referential thing with the tactical names for the titles of early IJ(aoe).

Also Jared continues to be such a sucker for Bryce’s hockey IQ, and such a sucker for people that aren’t him noticing and admiring said hockey IQ.

“What’s his middle name?” Stephen asks.

“Justin,” Jared says.

“BJ?” Stephen says. “Yeah, you two keep that to yourselves.”

“No kidding,” Jared says.

“BJ,” Stephen snickers, and Jared has the sinking feeling that Stephen is exclusively going to refer to Bryce as BJ from now on.

That would be so CHILDISH, Jared. Obviously he will carefully save it for the moment that it will annoy Bryce the most, like an adult.

he fiddles around on his phone and waits, enduring a crushing hug from Dmitry Kurmazov and an even more irritating hair ruffle before Dmitry unceremoniously crashes Gabe’s interview to do the same thing to him in front of laughing reporters. Gabe endures it with much more grace than Jared. Jared supposes he’s used to it after a decade on the same team.

Gabe, getting a hug from one of his closest friends after not seeing him for months: :)

Jared: Wow, good work enduring that indignity, Gabe. I don’t know how you do it.

Jared leaves him to it, endures another hug from Dmitry — he just saw him —

Hugging Jared Matheson twice in 24 hours if you aren’t a) Bryce Marcus or b) it’s literally just Bryce Marcus but he’ll endure it from Elaine he guesses... is like petting a hissing cat. Watch your hands.

echoes Gabe’s ‘good to see you again, Bryce’ when Bryce’s introductions land in their corner.

Gabe rolls his eyes at Jared.

“What,” Jared.

Bryce: Hey guys.

Gabe: Hey, Bryce, good to see you again.

Jared: …YES. GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN.

Bryce:

Gabe:

Jared:

Bryce: Okay I’m gonna—

Gabe: Good idea.

It’s all of twenty minutes into training camp before Bryce has made a friend.

Jared eyes him.

Dmitry says something, and Bryce dissolves into giggles.

Jared’s eyes grow narrower.

“Glaring at your liney because he’s making your boy laugh is not being subtle, Math,” Gabe murmurs right into his ear.

Jared glowering in the corner, horrible visions of more Dmitry in his future in his head.

It’s off ice stuff in the morning — Coach is big on team-building, and Jared would roll his eyes but the Canucks are a close-knit team, so it seems to work —

Jared implying that he isn’t rolling his eyes anyway and that’s a lie.

Gabe elbows him again. “Math,” he says.

“Hm?” Jared says.

“Please don’t tell me that’s your handwriting over his heart,” Gabe says, low

Gabe and Stephen give Jared this whole ‘don’t get your hopes up about not getting caught’ speech and Jared neglects to inform them Bryce has a TATTOO OF HIS NAME? There will be so much kvetching to Stephen later. Over his HEART, Stephen. These boys say they don’t want to come out and then he gets his a tattoo of Jared’s name on his HEART. What is the MATTER with these kids?

It still gets to him, a low punch in the gut when he sees it, but then, it’s only been a few weeks since Bryce snuck out and got the tattoo. Would Jared have vetoed it if Bryce asked first? Absolutely. Is Jared kind of stupidly obsessed with it? Also the case.

Jared is embarrassed and horny about it.

“Don’t tell Stephen,” Jared says.

“No way Stephen doesn’t watch an interview and put two and two together,” Gabe says. “Sorry.”

If he doesn’t tell Stephen who will he complain to, Jared? Do you want Gabe to EXPLODE?

“He tattooed your name on his chest and you two think you aren’t going to be caught,” Gabe mumbles, more to himself than Jared.

Gabe continues to be in utter disbelief.

Jared gets a ride back with Gabe after training camp, starts making them dinner, because if he doesn’t start now it’s not going to happen. They got bag skated at the end of the day. Bag skating’s always hell, but at least when it’s a punishment you feel like you’re atoning for something. Bag skating at the start of training camp’s a fitness gauge, nothing more, but it still feels like a punishment.

Bag skates are getting rarer and rarer, both during the season and during training camps, but under Travis Green the Canucks were indeed bag skated every training camp. Somebody always pukes.

“My legs feel like lead,” Jared says.

“Sit, I’ll take over,” Bryce offers, and Jared takes him up on it, though he does drag the chair closer, half to keep Bryce company, half to backseat cook because he doesn’t trust him. He hasn’t earned it.

Extremely valid.

“I can’t believe he manipulated you into free babysitting within one day of meeting you,” Jared says.

To be fair, Bryce offered.

“You aren’t tired,” Jared accuses.

“I’m tired,” Bryce says.

“You don’t look tired,” Jared mutters.

Bryce kisses the top of his head.

Jared absolutely livid that Bryce isn’t tired. And Bryce remembering that training camp Jared is like an angry hedgehog.

“Went pretty well for a first day,” Bryce says.

“Shh, sleeping,” Jared mumbles.

“You’re kind of mean when you’re exhausted,” Bryce says, but like, fondly.

“Shh,” Jared repeats. “Sleeping.”

Angry hedgehogs are adorable.

“He wasn’t tired after the bag skate,” Jared says.

Gabe gives him an incredulous look.

“I know,” Jared says.

“Maybe he’s just better at pretending?” Gabe asks.

“He isn’t,” Jared says. “We hate him.”

“We absolutely hate him,” Gabe agrees.

Bryce and Dmitry are giggling about something when they get in.

Jared glares at them and then slowly gets into his gear.

ONE DAY. One day before Bryce makes an enemy in the Canucks locker room. It is his husband.

139. Proving Ground

Jared’s sure plenty of them mocked Bryce when he was the enemy, but they’re pretending butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths now that he’s their guy.

I believe this is legally required of all homers.

They’re a good group of guys. Jared may not hang out with any of them other than Gabe and sometimes Dmitry if he tags along, but that’s not an indictment of his teammates, just personal preference.

Jared hates 99.99% of people, so don’t take it personally.

It isn’t even halfway through preseason before Bryce has a buddy on every line. He sits with Gabe and Jared at meals sometimes, but just as often he’s off talking with his lineys, or laughing with the rowdy group Jared keeps his distance from, sometimes sitting with the vets, talking strategy, is even chatty with the coaching staff.

Look at Bryce Marcus making friends everywhere he goes!! He’s trying, but he’s not desperate, and that makes a big difference. As does the locker room a) not being toxic AF and b) not having particular expectations for him, other than ‘scores lots’, they hope.

Bryce, in lieu of Marksy, which belongs firmly to Gabe, becomes Bullet to the Canucks room. It’s a pretty lazy nickname — alliteration, yeah, Bryce has killer accuracy, a snapshot that comes off his stick before you can blink, skates faster than his size would indicate. Marksman with a bullet, shot like a bullet, fast like a bullet, sure. Accurate. Lazy, though.

Sounds kind of like you like it, Jared.

They need to practice him with his new line in actual game situations, and there’s no better place to see how he’s going to stack up against his former team than against said team, so Jared suspects they’re saving his first appearance against the Flames for the drama of it all.

Coaches do not use ‘the drama of it all’ as a factor for player deployment. Though they should.

Julius plays his ass off that night, a giant pain — Jared’s still going to read Bryce the riot act for cross-checking him that hard, if he injured Julius Jared’s going to be pissed

Cross-checking Jared’s friends is only acceptable after a hat trick minimum.

“I barely tapped him,” Bryce mutters.

Jared pulls his phone out.

“Okay I more than tapped him!” Bryce says, while Jared goes to twitter to find a gif as counter-evidence.

Why would you blatantly lie to Jared and not expect him to immediately pull receipts.

“You wouldn’t cross-check Chaz,” Jared says. So that just leaves Julius and Raf and like, Gabe and Stephen, and Raf’s in the East, Gabe’s his teammate, and Stephen’s a civilian now, albeit one who deserves a whack or two sometimes.

“I might,” Bryce says, but not with any sincerity. He’s too soft for this sport.

Stephen definitely deserves to be cross-checked.

Also you can’t bitch about Bryce cross-checking your friends and then call him soft for not cross-checking one of them, Jared.

The game against the North Stars is also a blowout — they’re getting on their colt legs in the rebuild, and there’s indisputably talent there, but it’s fragile. The Canucks grind that immaturity in their too-young-to-shave faces.

These aren’t our Rookie Detectives — in fact, Roman’s the only one in Minny at this point (not counting Mike). Liam’s in Detroit, Harry and Victor playing NCAA, Val in Russia, Connie in the WHL (he hasn’t even been drafted yet). But soon!

Bryce is still pouty in the morning; he stole the Eeyore cup for maximal glumness and everything.

Love that max glumness for Bryce involves Jared’s cup. What does this mean, Jared? Surely, Jared says, it’s because Eeyore’s on it, not for any other reason.

“Obviously this is so you get your first against the Flames,” Jared says. “Divine retribution and all that.”

“Fuck the Flames,” Bryce says, brightening up.

You had Bryce at ‘divine retribution’.

Hell, Bryce isn’t nervous, humming over breakfast, cheerful in a sort of bloodthirsty way, like he can’t wait to humiliate the Flames.

Divine retribution!!

Warm-ups don’t help. Bryce sticks like glue to the home end, pots shot after shot on Salazar, back firmly to the visitors’ side of the ice, posture tense. Gabe gives Jared a significant look as they’re filing back into the locker room, but Jared can’t exactly go over to Bryce and say what he wants to, do what he wants to, wrap a hand around the nape of Bryce’s clammy neck, press their foreheads together, tell him he has this. Anything that would actually help Bryce would be the sort of obvious that might get picked up on.

Jared is probably right that they wouldn’t be able to make any moral support from Jared look ‘bro’ enough, but also Bryce clearly needs it right now. So cue Gabe’s significant look.

Gabe’s the last one to get to Bryce, gets him in a headlock in the hall, and Bryce is still grumbling about it when he steps onto the ice, fully distracted as he skates over to the blue line. Jared taps Gabe’s knee on the bench, and Gabe taps his right back.

Gabe’s got his back. Both their backs.

The second seems to be more of the same. Halfway through the game they’re still knotted at 0-0, and Jared can count good chances on one hand. For both teams. Combined. At this rate it’s going to be the worst of all worlds — a goalie battle without the show-stopping saves, a physical game without the big hits, a tight fought tight defended cleanly played boring ass game.

Woo, the trap. When you want to win, but you don’t want your fans to enjoy it.

Thankfully the Canucks’ first line makes the executive decision to break the stalemate just as Jared’s wincing and trying to take that thought back, like he’s cursed the team with it

For someone who insists he’s not superstitious, Jared sure thinks about curses a lot.

Bryce gets a secondary assist on a power play goal, the start of a tic-tac-tip, and that’s all they need to win it. Bryce with a point in every goal, Bryce’s goal the game-winner, and he’s absolutely mobbed when they get off the ice, teammates with claps on the back and media impatiently waiting at the doors to mob him themselves, but not before he has to go right back out for first star of the game.

Divine retribution!!! (And a very motivated player.)

He replies to a very kindly worded demand for a celebratory dinner from Elaine when he gets back to their condo, listens to a voicemail from his dad, who enjoyed a Flames loss for the first time in his entire life, judging by the gleeful malice in his voice, is finishing up a surprisingly decent dinner from the meal service they’re trying out when the front door flies open.

It’s good that Jared recognises that Elaine being polite and friendly doesn’t make that any less of a demand. Also — friendship with Flames over, Canucks are Don’s new best friend.

“Jared!” Bryce calls, like he hasn’t seen him in days and can’t wait a minute longer. Jared can hear him taking off his shoes, mostly because they hit the wall with two thuds.

“Jared!” he says again when he sees Jared at the kitchen island. Which is like, visible from the front hall, it’s an open concept place. Jared was right there the whole time.

Jared did you see!!!!

“Shut up,” Bryce says, still very cheerful about it.

“Make me,” Jared says. It’s not a hat trick or anything, but he thinks a three point night deserves something, let alone a three point night against the Flames. That’s like hat trick level spite.

“Do I need to?” Bryce asks. “Or are you going to do it because that goal was hot as fuck?”

Finally Jared can find Bryce’s goals hot without being conflicted about that because it was against his team. Truly big for him.

“Cocky,” Jared says, but it’s not exactly a hardship. Well, a bit of one, because he can’t keep giving Bryce shit if he’s got his dick in his mouth, but Bryce did the Canucks like, a service. This is team building. Offering an incentive for good play. Building positive habits.

What, do YOU want the A, Jared?

Apparently Bryce is coasting on endorphins after a hell of a night — and who could blame him — because he doesn’t actually occupy Jared’s mouth all that long. Jared is not the only one who gets off on Bryce’s goalscoring, apparently.

“Fast as a bullet,” Jared murmurs against his hip, then, “Ow!”, because Bryce, even come dumb, is still completely capable of landing a stinging flick to his ear.

He’s such a shit that Bryce knew that was coming eventually. Bullet was prepared.

[vanzuris]

i don't know if this may be a kinda weird idea but i thought about it last night and it's been eating me alive, follow me on this one:

kyman as cats au. yes.

(sorry if it’s poorly written, english isn’t my first language)

so, kyle is a slim orange cat who's been living with the marshes since two weeks after he was born. they found him on the side of the road during a family trip, dirty and tiny and loud, and randy was outnumbered; he had zero chances of convincing stan, shelly and sharon to not keep the goddamn cat. and as time passed he successfully gained everyone's heart. they loved him. even sparky (rest in peace) and specially stan who considers him his super best friend because kyle is a very chill and nice cat.

and it has been just him in his territory for a while.

so it's just natural that he can't help but stare in confusion when shelly comes back home with a fluffy, fat brown cat with big brown eyes and a red collar, alleging that she saw him around all by his own for a few days now and decided to take the poor thing to their home. stan, who just loves animals in general, finds him adorable and reaches out to pet him. that motherfucker immediately starts to purr, just to bite stan’s hand seconds later and then act like it was all in good fun. and he doesn’t quite know what is it, but there's something about him that kyle just... doesn't like.

whatever, it doesn’t matter because then it happens. while eric (as printed on his collar) rubs on stan’s legs, he notices kyle for the first time. he immediately starts to approach him, ears and tail up communicating his curiosity. the family just stands there, wanting to see how this will turn out. first they smell each other, and then proceed to make a kind of staring contest before eric raises his paw and hits kyle on the face.

“oooh, i would fight back if i were you, buddy” says randy.

but they still let eric stay after posting pictures of him on social media in case there’s someone out there looking for him. the week goes by with loud meowing from both cats, and it’s a bit annoying but funny, because it’s like they’re arguing in their own little language all the time. kyle tries his best to avoid him: staying in stan’s room for more time than he’s used to, resting on the tallest step of the cat tower, going out of the house to hang out more often with the neighbor’s cat, but he still gets involved in these “arguments” that sometimes even become physical and end up with shelly and stan having to separate them.

and it certainly doesn’t help that eric spends 50% of his time sleeping in shelly’s bed (his favorite human of the four, because she’s always petting him, treating him like he deserves (yeah, like a king) and even bought a nice plate to feed him) and the other 50% trying to start fights with kyle. seriously, what’s wrong with him?

okay. they hate each other, right? kyle must be angry because this cat came out of nowhere and invaded his territory and even dared to try to start fights with him. that’s what it looks like to the whole family.

so it’s just natural that stan has to rub his eyes five times to confirm he’s not insane and seeing things when one night he goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and catches both cats curled up together, incredibly close, on the couch.

“i think kyle is gay”, stan shares his thoughts with the rest of the family three days later during dinner, after constantly catching the two cats getting along and being… clingy? when apparently they thought no one else could see them.

“sparky was gay, what’s the possibility of our cat being gay too?”

stan doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’s right. of course he had to be a fucking orange cat. no one believes him, though, because the cats continue to be gay in secret.

and it’s all fine until one day a blond guy in an orange parka shows up to their house, claiming that eric is his cat that ran away two months ago.

shelly and stan look at each other, knowing damn well that they both started to love that rude cat and don’t want to give him back. but it doesn’t matter, they eventually would have to.

eric greets kenny with a loud purr and even louder meows, happy to see him again. shelly asks kenny to please take his plate and newly bought toys with him so eric can remember her, and then they leave.

the whole week after that is a torture between shelly talking about how much he misses eric and kyle meowing at the door, waiting for the brown cat to come back.

and on a tuesday, stan wakes up to find the two cats curled up on the couch again. oh my god.

he calls kenny, who comes to pick eric up and stan explains how their cats are… lovers? apparently. kenny laughs, but believes in his word and promises to take eric to visit his cat-boyfriend sometimes.

it’s not necessary, though, because eric keeps coming back on his own, but eventually learns the way back home with kenny so that’s not a problem anymore.

the only option the marshes have now is to accept their cat’s sexuality and eric’s presence too, whenever he shows up.

whether they like it or not, he’s part of the family now.

[sammiesonyourleft]

city lights - p.p.

pairing: peter parker x black best friend f!reader

summary: your best friend finds you in a strange place mourning your failed relationship

notes: dedicated to everyone who had a bad situationship) (dis my own canon)

word count: 906

"Y/N?"

"Oh hi, Peter," You say pausing your music, sitting up from your position.

"Don’t just ‘hI pEtEr’ me? What’re you doing up here dude? It's so late!"

"I needed to breathe. I hope you don't mind. What're you doing here?"

"This is where I come when I take breaks from night patrol. Is everything alright?"

Taking a deep breath in, "No Pete, they're not."

Y'all sit in uncomfortable silence before he asks "Do ya wanna talk about it?"

"I loved him but it wasn’t worth the heartache ya know. I lost myself trying to be what he wanted. I changed so much, and not to say those changes were bad… I made some pretty healthy ones. they were just for him. I adapted so that he’d be more comfortable… so he’d love me back… I realized that it was hella wrong. I shouldn’t be hiding parts of myself because he’s uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have to hold my tongue because he doesn’t like my response. I've spent many nights crying over the fact that he didn’t want to be with me and that I was trying to force something that was not there in the first place. I just wanted to see if he’d come around, ya know. that wasn’t my first mistake. my first mistake was not leaving when he told me he didn’t want a relationship when I told him I had feelings for him. my second mistake was staying."

He opens his mouth in disbelief, pausing before deciding his next words, "But you couldn’t have known that, y/n."

Shaking your head, "Peter, when a guy knows he loves you, he loves you. And he means it. no ifs, and, or buts about it. He will do anything to make you happy and keep you happy. I would know… I’ve seen it before. My grandfather… has dementia. He still goes out and buys my grandma flowers every week. I knew. I just wanted to see if he felt the same. Turns out he didn’t, and I'm difficult to deal with, and “I do too much”. Serves me right though… I knew this rel— whatever this was — had an expiration date, no matter how long I pretended it didn’t. I wasted my time." Sighing dramatically, you lay back down, covering your eyes as you finally come to terms with your feelings.

Peter rushes to lie down next to you, "No, you didn’t; This was a learning experience for you. Sometimes we go through stuff that we don’t want to. but it teaches us for the next time. so now if some guy comes to you now, you have the chance to set boundaries and make sure you're being intentional with who you're spending your time with. And if he takes off running then he’s not the one. If he stays and gets to know you, the real you, not the one that dirtbag tried to make you into, he could be the one."

"But how do I know that it’s not gonna end up the same way again? I’ve been in so many talking stages. I'm tired of learning what to do and what not to do to keep a guy. that was the longest one. and this one hurt the most. we had so many plans together. and now they’re all gone. because of me."

"Absolutely not. Wrong. Not because of you. Because of him. He couldn’t see past everything that’s inside you. He only saw what he wanted to see. He waited until you were fragile enough for him to break you over and over again. He decided he wanted to flirt with you after you told him you had feelings. He’s the one who stayed after you said I love you. He got into your head and convinced you that you were crazy. when you’re not. He had so many opportunities to say “hey I’m sorry, I know what you want but we don’t want the same things, so I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

"But he told me he wasn’t ready. I should have just listened."

No. Absolutely not. I’ve seen the text messages. He told you that after y'all bared your hearts to one another. Did you forget where he said he loved you back? Because I don't! That was a big thing. Y/N, Im so sorry he played with your feelings for months. You deserve so much better than that. I’m happy he’s gone."

"Well now you sound like MJ."

"Yea she kind of gave me the run down of what happened, but I knew I needed to talk to you. I don't regret any of my actions."

"What'd you do? Web him up in an alley?

His eyes get wide, and he pops up really fast, "Well well well, we have school tomorrow, why don't we get going?

"Peter Parker, what did you do?"

"Imayhavewebbedhimupandlefthiminthealleynearhisapartmentbuilding."

"YOU DID WHAt???"

"I had to do something! He hurt my best friend! So I dragged him out his sleep and he's currently handing above the dumpster behind his apartment building."

You scream, "PETE! He's HANGING???"

"Yea... Please don't be mad. I can go take him down if you'd like." He looks genuinely scared when he says this.

You laugh, pulling him in for a hug, "Thanks Pete, you're the best friend anybody could ask for. Now let's go. We have pictures to take with a certain boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We be word vomiting. Please if you liked it this pic let me know. Any comments or advice will be greatly appreciated!

xo,

dai :)

[cavetreasures]

I decided to watch The Suicide Squad yesterday because I suddenly remembered that it existed. I didn’t like the 2016 version, which is why it took me so long to get around to the second one. However, I thought I should give it a try because of James Gunn (I LOVE Guardians of the Galaxy).

I started it without any expectations, but as the story progressed, I found myself getting more and more into it. About halfway through, there’s a scene that I can’t stop thinking about, and I just have to talk about it.

At one point in the movie, Harley Quinn gets separated from the squad. They have a very important mission to execute, but they put it on hold to rescue her first.

So, we see her as a prisoner, being tortured for information. She keeps singing about how no one cares about her, how she’s all alone, and then she seizes an opportunity to free herself and escape. Of course, she’s a badass, so she kills everyone in her way with ease in a sequence of gorgeously choreographed scenes. She steps outside, catches a cab, and is ready to get away when she notices some of the guys from the squad running in the distance.

We switch to them, and while they’re getting ready to execute the rescue plan, she appears out of nowhere and is like, “What’s up? What are you guys doing here?”

Now, here’s the thing that left an impression on me—her reaction.

SHE IS SO TOUCHED! She’s emotional and grateful, eager to hug them. She’s so excited and enthusiastic that she’s ready to go back to being a prisoner just so they can continue rescuing her. And she’s completely unironic about it—I loved it.

They made Harley Quinn powerful and got her to rescue herself, but they still wrote her as a human being who cares and is vulnerable. Yes, she didn’t need to be rescued, but that didn’t matter! Their intentions mattered, because we all want to feel like we’re not alone, like someone has our back, like someone cares about us. It doesn’t make us weak. It doesn’t mean we’d be unable to do things on our own.

It was such a relief not to see her mock them and say something like, “Oh, you shouldn’t have bothered,” or “Did you think I couldn’t do it myself?” and get insulted because they underestimated her abilities. That’s not how a strong character behaves. That’s the reaction of a jerk (or someone who is highly insecure), but somehow I expected it to happen, and the fact that they subverted my expectations here left a deep impression on me.

There are so many “strong female characters” in media that just don’t work for me. They’re often just a collection of traits with no human essence. Some of these characters feel like they were written by people who don’t understand how human emotions work. They’re meant to be strong women, but they feel like weird, hollow creatures whose only real purpose is to show off. They represent something you can never be—and don’t really want to be—because they’re empty. They make you feel nothing.

I haven’t finished the movie yet because my partner had to leave, and we agreed to watch it together, but I can’t wait to finish it. No matter how it ends, I think it was worth watching just for that scene only.

[clarichoupie]

Random things I noticed, or liked, in “The Quarry” after playing it over and over again. (part 2) (part 1 is here)

I didn't know you could see “Laura's boat” with Jacob by going to the far left of the docks.

Ok, so, I'm not going to talk about Emma's phone even though I should. However! Why, just why, did you put that damn rotor arm in your underwear Jacob?! Who does that?!

Watching Ryan call Dylan an idiot seems so right sometimes. I mean amputating a leg without “equipment” is not a good idea. Even with the werewolf thing. A hand, why not, but a whole leg? Meh, I'm not sure. Sorry Dylan.

When you have to say out loud and confirmed that you're not a b*tch, you often are, Emma.

Choosing the aggressive responses is so satisfying. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing Ryan and Dylan being cute together, but seeing them freak out and insult each other can be just as interesting.

Plus, Ryan's little laugh because he's not convinced that Dylan can shoot with a gun is just adorable.

Why, no matter what you do, Kaitlyn always loses the gun?! I didn't hesitate to give it to you so that you don't even use it!

Watching Dylan freak out is probably one of the most de-stressing things I've ever seen, for some reason. The “F*ck no”, “F*ck dude” and small gestures of fear; yep, it helps me calm down to see him being so scared.

The dialogues between Emma and Jacob just don't make sense. Like, they're really nice and then the next second they're real assholes, without you deciding! Very boring.

Does Jedediah play golf? Or baseball or something? Because he's got a really good swing.

Am I the only one who thinks that the characters' reaction to Kaylee's death is not normal? I mean, they don't need to break down in tears or be as shocked as Ryan who was close to her but damn it! There's a dead body in the pool! Of a girl you know by name and who looks innocent! Murdered in front of your eyes! Be a little sad instead of making jokes about it! (Even you Dylan...especially you)

Besides, when I killed Abi the first time, Ryan, Dylan and Kaitlyn didn't even care about their friend's head on the floor separated from her body. They were just sitting there talking to Laura, calmly. Seriously, these guys are either insensitive or totally insane.

“I'll tell mom." Seriously Chris? Are you like five years old to betray your brother like that to your mom? What is Constance gonna do besides insult Travis anyway, tell him he wasn’t wanted? He probably already knows that.

Where did Laura's eye patch come from? I mean, didn't anyone wonder where that accessory came from? Other than Travis owning pirate costumes or Laura knowing how to sew, I can't think of any other explanation.

When did Abi start acting like a warrior, defending everyone, when just before she was so freaked out that she couldn't do anything?

WHY, just, WHY, when I choose the aggressive option, does Laura think Ryan is flirting with her?!?! These kids really have a dumb view of flirting. Poor Ryan... no wonder why he doesn't understand social interaction or want to spend time alone if everyone is so weird around him.

Speaking of Ryan, I love his lines with Laura when he's upset : “A tour guide?”, “An eye for an eye.”, “All for a boy?”. This guy definitely makes me laugh.

“Jesus, Mary and jazzhands”? ...Sorry what? Do people who speak English really say that?

I thought so much in my first game that Ryan was a traitor (like in the game I won't mention...) but in the end the poor guy was just worried about his friends, it's just too sad.

[amplifyme]

Cat and Mouse

I’m back! Another short entry; but I’m sure it will still be delightful~ :DDDDD

Anyway, my thoughts: a pleasure to reread, especially in putting William’s grumbles and Winslow’s abrasiveness in better contexts, having gotten to know the characters from the show. Love how Nan captures the littleness of “human” reactions without self-discipline, all ages, ranges, and stages of life. Cullen is really growing on me-- I already liked him from AWTN; but was a bit thrown by the series episode. Rereading is putting it all back together, in a way. Father is delightful even in his flustery, mother hen panicky concern. Vincent and his chessboard maneuvers-- with ‘Rat’ and the people Below alike-- are fascinating, especially knowing what else Nan is building on top of these moments. Vincent’s anger at feeling ‘separated’ from the people Below by his failure is really, really excellent of Nan to draw from, touch on, and further set up for future explorations. 

Overall, highly enjoying myself-- and so is Sis (she is enjoying the experience more than the human drama; but that’s her typical schtick.Sis: “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I can get invested in human drama….”). And I am also highly enjoying taking her most extreme reactions, hyperbolizing them, and reading them back to her (Sis: “Yeah… they’re fun…” said with woeful sarcasm? “I dunno-- irony, maybe.”) And now, I shall transcribe Sis’s reactions: 

““He resignedly scuffed on to the top of Father's stair, overlooking the study, which seemed empty. “Father? I'm sorry if I'm late, I—” “Vincent?” Father's voice brought Vincent's head up, and he located Father on the balcony, shoving off a stool and starting in great haste down the spiral iron staircase. “Vincent? Where on earth have you been?”” Sis: COOL YOUR JETS, OLD MAN. Let him live.”  (We had a bit of banter here-- her Father’s stanship will last because she is invested enough to critique and still hold him as a favorite.) 

She and I are having a brief tete a tete (Sis: “BUT WE ARE ALREADY HAVING A CONVERSATION-- it’s different than a tete a tete because--” and I lost the rest because she was talking a mile a minute) over Father’s parental worries-- she’s still salty about Devin-- but, overall, it’s entertaining for me to hear her ranting (“No, it’s not ranting, it’s not really ranting!” she rushes to assure me, after she calls it ranting.) 

““You say you were hunting,” Father prodded. “The so-called rat, I presume? Did you...settle the matter?”” Sis was so highly amused she was cackling over Vincent going Street Fighter on a metaphorical rat. 

I was describing these short stories as photos in an album to better illustrate why Father still has lessons to learn (on top of the other lessons he will ALSO learn in AWTN); and Sis threw in the idea that Diana is the third party that thinks all of this is messed up. We’re having a blast (Sis: “It’s about the friends we made along the way.”) 

““Vincent, don't ever say that. You are not an animal.”” Sis: “Just try getting him to believe you. Obviously, that didn’t work.” 

We briefly talked about Gabriel, and Sis made a crack about punching him amicably before both of us denied it because she doesn’t have amicable feelings towards Gabriel (Sis: “I’m not friends with him. He’s just a guy.”) 

““...Vincent could sense only the tension and the anger, none of the love and relief they sprang from.”” and ““As the outer bruises faded, the inner ones went deeper, toward the heart, affecting Vincent's most basic sense of who he was and of what he was to everyone around him.”” are so key to Vincent’s journey in AWTN-- glad I caught it even more the second time around. 

““Father patted at the air. “William, that's a matter of simple logistics--”” Sis’s mouth dropped open, imagining the numerous logistics: “Well then, you figure it out, Father!” I explained how Father would not be able to do so as well as William. She completely understood: “Oh, well, fine.”

““When Cullen's hand landed on his shoulder, he was so startled he nearly choked.”” THERE’S CULLEN STARTLING HIM AGAIN. Love whenever Cullen does that in the narrative. 

Sis gave Part 2 a “thumbs up”-- she’s a self-described “click off” reader, meaning she reads, she likes, she clicks off. Her modus operandi. So a thumbs up is her way of expressing “yay” to the reading experience. (Yes, she does this to my stuff, too.) 

Anyway, gotta shuffle off again! Will be back soon with the next installment~.

Hey! Sorry I didn't get to this sooner. Yesterday was cray-cray. I love reading yours and Sis's thoughts and the bantering you do while in the midst of your re-read. I really don't have anything to add to this except for one thing, below the cut...

““Vincent, don't ever say that. You are not an animal.”” Sis: “Just try getting him to believe you. Obviously, that didn’t work.” 

Okay, but here's the thing, V is right: he is an animal. And he's much more cognizant of that fact than any of the people he lives amongst and loves. That's always been and will continue to be Father's absolute blind spot when it comes to his very unique son. There's no doubt F offers that belief to V out of deep love and respect for all the things V is that don't include "animal," but to deny that part of him is to refuse to accept the whole of the person - good and bad. And I think it's part of the reason V has such issues with his own sense of worthiness.

It's the same thinking that so many fans (especially Classic) have of Vincent: that he's this perfect man who just happens to have leonine features and enormous strength. But they're wrong, he's not just a man. He's very much other, and a large part of that is animal. And there's nothing wrong with that. Vincent is a singularly unique individual, a "creature who has never been."

I think one of the reasons Nan and I hit it off so well is because we shared the same beliefs about V. It's so easy to focus on the aspects of him that are the most admirable and relatable. But if you chose to ignore or disregard the truth of his otherness, then you do him a great disservice.

One of my favorite lines in the show ever, is one of Diana's and is, sadly, one that a lot of folks didn't or don't pay enough attention to. It not only goes a long way in explaining who she is and how she thinks, but it also strikes me as the perfect example of why she and V are such a perfect pairing. Because it proves that she'll be able to acknowledge and accept all of Vincent, and not just the parts that are the best of him.

"If all you’re willing to see is what you’ve seen before, you’re gonna miss half of what’s going on."

I'll leave you with that. 😊

[ask-sarah-and-co]

part 3! (only abt 1200 words!)

1 / 2 / 3 (you’re here) / epilogue

It was a week until Chloe could catch up with Sarah again.

A full week of tailing the boys as they did many ridiculous things.

When she finally saw her again, she and Hugh were standing together at the Castelia docks, watching the sunset. She snuck closer to hear what they were saying, but she soon realized she wasn’t the only one watching them.

“What’s the twerp doing here?! I thought we were on vacation and getting away from him!” A nasally voice complained.

“That doesn’t matter. We could use this opportunity to get some powerful pokemon for the boss!” A female voice excitedly whispered.

“Isn’t that the twerpette from Sinnoh?” Another male voice pointed out.

The three voices drowned out anything Sarah and Hugh were saying.

She turned and glared at Team Rocket. “Can you guys shut up?! They’re on a date and I’m eavesdropping!”

The three immediately quieted and peeked at the duo, eyeing the spiky haired trainer. “The twerp is cheating? What happened to the red twerp?” Meowth glanced at the other two trainers. They then exchanged a few looks and collectively decided that they should jump out from behind the bench.

“PREPARE FOR TROUB- oh.”

(rewind to before chloe arrived)

“You have a younger sister?” Sarah and Hugh watched the sunset together, standing close to each other.

“Yeah.”

“Her purrloin was stolen right? By Team Plasma?” She winced when Hugh’s smile started to falter.

“Right…” He then turned to Sarah. “I told you about my goals, right?”

Sarah shook her head, gesturing for him to continue.

“I’m gonna stop Team Plasma from ever stealing another pokemon and save purrloin!” He clenched his fists tight. “I’ll never stop chasing them. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“I’ll help you.” Hugh turned to Sarah instinctively. “I want you to know that you can lean on me. I’ll lend you my strength anytime.” She smiled. “We’re rivals, friends, and partners right? We have to do this together.”

Hugh placed his hand on her shoulder, then hugged her out of nowhere. “We’ll find purrloin together. We’ll stop Team Plasma together. As a team. I’ll count on you, and you on me.” They stayed close for a few minutes before separating. 

They were both silent until Hugh suddenly asked, “I know you have a sister, what’s she like?”

“Well,” Sarah grinned. “She’s annoying, but she is caring and sweet. Sometimes. I guess…” Sarah shrugged, “She’s weird.”

“Does she have any pokemon yet?”

“Just a skitty I caught for her.” She was silent for a few seconds. “You know, I just realized how perfect skitty is for her.” When Hugh looked at her confused, she stifled a laugh. “Because of how catty she drives me.” She burst out laughing as Hugh chuckled.

“You’re so bad,” He soon was laughing with her. “Just shut up.” 

“Make me.” She didn’t seem to realize what she said until they both fell silent.

She then blushed bright scarlet and glanced at Hugh, who was pink.

“…Do you want me to?” His voice was so quiet, she thought that sentence was imagined.

She didn’t say anything right away. “…Yeah. I do…”  She stepped closer to him, as he cupped her face with his hands. Her hands were soon buried in his hair. He leaned closer and shut his eyes, Sarah following suit. She felt the slightest touch of their lips before a shout made them jump apart.

“PREPARE FOR TROUB- oh.”

The four trainers and meowth stared at each other awkwardly, as Chloe came out from behind the bench too.

“I’M SO SORRY, I tried to stop them and-”

She was interrupted by an actual growl from Hugh.

“Do you know these people Sarah?!”

“I know all of them, but Chloe’s mi amigo.” She pointed at the girl, who waved guiltily. Sarah then grinned wickedly. “I’ll help you beat Team Rocket.”

Sarah heard Hugh mutter “They’re going to feel my rage…” as he sent out his bouffalant. She tossed out her lucario, Anubis, and was prepared to mega evolve him.

“Come on, Team Rocket! Call down your weird gacha machine already!” 

James and Jessie shared a look. They seemed to be debating what to do telepathically, but their pelipper flew over dropped the machine anyways. They inserted meowth and called out their pokemon, tyranitar and hydreigon.

“You’re gonna use my own pokemon against me?” Sarah grinned. “Now you’re really in for a fight!” She unclipped the key stone from her bag and held it high. “Anubis, mega evolve!”

She then commanded her pokemon to use a drain punch on the hydreigon and knocked it out in one blow. “Tyranitar is all yours, Hugh!” The trainer in question grinned.

“Bouffalant, close combat! Give it all you’ve got!” His partner charged towards the opposing pokemon and knocked it out quickly. The two pokemon were recalled and Team Rocket looked really nervous now.

“Oh, would you look at the time,” James grabbed his two teammates, ignoring their protests, and started running away. “Neither of you are twerps so we’re gonna go, goodbye.”

Hugh almost chased after them, but Sarah stopped him. “They’re not worth your time.”

“You’re not going to do any of that to me, are you?” Chloe stepped back nervously.

When everything calmed down, Chloe said she was going to regroup with the boys. “I’ll leave you guys to what you were doing before.” She teased the two mercilessly, and seemed like she wanted to stay longer, but soon was gone too.

“So, what were we doing again?” Sarah returned Anubis to his pokeball, after a quick fist bump with the jackal pokemon.

“We were about to… y’know…” Hugh blushed, his face reddening even more when his bouffalant gave him a playful headbutt towards Sarah. “You too?” He scowled at the buffalo, who seemed to laugh, before returning the pokemon to his pokeball.

“So…” Sarah fidgeted awkwardly. “Do you want to continue… that… or was the moment ruined?”

“It was definitely ruined.” Hugh then took her hand (the gloveless one) and placed a gentle kiss on it. He was definitely contradicting his own statement.

“But I do owe you one,” He was fiddling with the collar of his jacket. “So how about we find purrloin, then work this out?”

Sarah took a minute to respond, stunned by his action. “Okay. Wow. Now you’re just motivating me to find purrloin faster.” 

Sarah then remembered something.

“Could you wait a second? I have something for you.” At his nod, she dug around in her bag pulling out a white disk, a pokemon box link. It separated in two and revealed rows of pokeballs. He watched her pick one and hold it in her hand as she closed the box link.

“Do you know the Galarian tradition?” Sarah didn’t look away from the pokeball, which he now noticed was a love ball. She then released the pokemon and held it out to him.

“I don’t.” He took the pokemon gently.

“You give an applin to someone you want to date. So, Hugh, do you want to-”

“Yes!” He immediately blurted his answer.

Sarah just laughed as his face burned, tossing him the pokeball for applin.

“Here, take this too.” She gave him a greenish apple. “If the little guy wants to evolve.” He returned applin to his pokeball and pocketed both.

“Thank you,” He smirked flirtatiously, “I really owe you now.”

She blushed furiously, “Just shut up.”

“All in good time.” 

[lamnwar]

Hello!!! I have a knb request!!! Could I please request an aomine/taiga (separate or you can do just one I don't mind!) x reader where the boys have recently been dumped and is now with the reader who's trying not to feel like a rebound and second choice (maybe they're good friends with him and have been for a while and has just been pining away?) but it looks like he might get back with his ex? You can decide how it ends!!! Thank you!

Hiiii omg thanks for the request, love 💕 I chose to write on Kagami only since I've never written an OS on him, so I hope that's ok; it's also kinda a college au (not requested but hope it's not a problem)! Anyways, enjoy it :) xx

It just makes sense // Kagami Taiga x gn! Reader

Context: when you comfort your best friend after his break-up, you surely don't expect things to take such direction for you two...

Warnings: kinda hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers hihi (bc it's my fav trope 🤭), mention of alcohol but it's not important to the plot, very fluffy <3

“I’m not gonna tell you the cliché stuff like... it happened for a good reason, or you deserve better. Although you do, you know, things shouldn’t suck like that for you.”

Taiga hums softly, as you look at the stars. At this early hour of the morning, they’re more apparent, somewhat calming despite the context you’re in. Not long ago, you were woken up by your phone ringing, your best friend’s number appearing on screen. It isn’t a rare occurrence – you’re used to receiving calls at such hours when he’s had a glass too much. But this time, he called for another reason.

“Drunk at some bar again, Taiga?”

“Can I come to your place?

And here you are, both of you sitting on your little balcony in silence. It really sucks, this whole situation. Break-ups happen to everyone, yet they’re still one of the most heart wrenching things that can happen to someone. Even a bright guy like Kagami is no exception the rule. Though, you’d argue that it doesn’t make sense. He is, from all angles, the perfect man. But maybe you are biased, maybe his ex saw things in him that you ignore...

But no. It doesn’t make any sense to you.

From the day you’ve first met him, you’ve been convinced that he’s one these people – the ones that you can only love because despite their flaws, they encompass everything great about being human. Taiga is the guy you’ve met on orientation week, bonding over nothing and progressively becoming attached to the hip. Somewhere during your times together, between dumb college students’ shenanigans and growing as adults together, you’ve noticed your heart beating faster around him. You aren’t dupe, well aware of what that means. But back then, it only made sense for you to keep your feelings for yourself, hoping that they’d eventually fade away before it ruined your friendship.

But right now, you wonder if it was the right thing, not to confess to him. Best case scenario, it could have prevented the current events. He wouldn’t have met that person; he wouldn’t have his heart broken. You wouldn’t do that to him, never.

“You know, I kinda saw it happen” his deep voice resonates.

You turn to him, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah?”

“I think... I didn’t love them anymore, or enough. Not sure, but it was bound to happen.”

You can do nothing but nod, understandingly. There’s nothing to say to that, and you doubt that he wants your opinion on the matter. Anyways, you risk making things worse for the both of you if you talk too much.

After a while sitting in silence, you get up, stretching.

“Do you want some tea?”

Your best friend hums his response, and you go to boil some water, preparing two cups. Somehow, in the soft light of the moon, Taiga’s sadness takes on a new dimension. It is almost poetic, a tragic beauty that you cannot take your eyes off. But at the same time, you wish not to see that spectacle for too long; you’ve never witnessed him after a break-up, you have no idea how long it takes for him to grieve his past relationship. Some part of you wish it won’t take too long – you want to see him smile again soon; the other part believes he should take all the time he needs, albeit a whole year, if needed. In all cases, one thing will remain the same on your side of things…

“I’m here, y’know, for anything.”

“Anything?” he repeats, looking in your eyes for the first time since he’s come to your place.

A warmth invades your inside as you gaze into his sadden irises. You really don’t want him to be like that for too long.

“Yeah, anything.”

*

  Two months have passed since that night. And from a day to another, the Taiga you’re used to came back. It started with his smile, every time he’d greet you. Then his laugh came back – adorable, brightening up your surroundings while it resonated around. And finally, he’s become his usual laid-back self, the one that would spend endless hours of doing nothing and simply enjoying the little things with you. And all this time, your heart has kept beating faster. Faster, and faster, and faster. You’ve feared at some point that you had some health issues, only to realize that no matter how deep down you think you’ve buried your feelings for your best friend, they will always resurface every time he’s a little too close to you.

It doesn’t help that he’s spending more time with you since the break-up. You’re to blame for this, telling him that you were here for anything meant what it meant. For all the time he felt lonely, confused, or just exhausted by the event, he’s come to you. Naturally, you haven’t turned him down, not that you wanted to. Regardless of how you feel, he’s always going to be your favourite person. So it only makes sense, the coffee in the mornings, the commutes to university and work, going to his matches to cheer on him and celebrating in bars, which ultimately ends with the both of you sharing a bed for the night, because it’s way too late for either of you to go back home all alone.

It only makes sense, that he’s come to sleep by your side for other reasons too – because he’s wanted to cook diner for the two of you, and he’s ended up enjoying himself so much that the prospect of going back to his empty home made him want to stay longer with you.

“Diner at your place tonight? I’ve found a new recipe I wanna try.”

And once again, you can’t get yourself to say no.

“Sure, do have all you need?”

He shakes his head, hands digging in the pockets of his jacket.

“Gotta do some shopping first.”

“Let’s go then” you say, turning in the direction of the nearest grocery store.

He nods, following you. You can’t remember when this has become a habit for the two of you – somewhere between the first week post break-up and now, you’ve come to do casual things in his company, yet somehow enjoying yourself more in these little moments. There’s nothing special with watching him decide which cheese he rather choose for a specific dish, looking at him examine veggies under all angles before buying them, and you deciding what drink will best suit your diner. Yet, here you are, carrying the basket for the both of you, which has to be the most mundane thing ever, but you are, at this very moment, truly happy. As you stop at the drinks, searching what you’re looking for, a strange feeling invades you. Taiga stands beside you, and from the corner of the eye, you can see a smile draw itself on his lips.

“What you’re smiling about?” you ask.

The tall boy’s cheeks inflame, caught in action. He cleans his throat, hands in his pocket.

“Huh? Nothing.”

It’s your turn to smile. You’ve known him long enough to be able to tell when he is lying. Taiga isn’t very sly, which has its charm in some ways. At least you know that he is always honest with you.

“Come on, you can tell me” you taunt him, still looking at the drinks.

For a moment there, you believe that he won’t say a word but before you turn to him with the intention to get the truth out of him, he finally opens his mouth.

“I find it kinda cute, that little face you make when you choose the drinks.”

You turn to him, mouth agape.

“Huh?”

“Y’know…” he raises his shoulders, “you pout a bit, like… anyways.”

You keep staring at him, incapable of wording a response to what he just says. Inside you, every cell of your body combusts, feeling a rush of everything coursing through your veins. And you don’t really know what it is with this moment – this ordinary moment, that could have happened any other day – but what you’ve been bottling up for so long menaces to spill out. As you blush furiously, your hand goes to get a bottle of your chosen beverage, eyes incapable of maintaining any eye contact with Taiga.

“I like you, you know” you let out, voice shaking.

You don’t have to say more for him to understand what you’re communicating. You refuse to look at him, fearing his reaction. But if you do actually raise your eyes to his face, you’ll probably meet a sight that you’ve never seen before. There is something particular in Taiga’s eyes, something so strong yet so sweet. It’s indescribable, and neither of you are capable of understanding it. As the situation goes way beyond your comprehension, it only makes sense to him to act on instinct. You feel his hand join yours one the handle of the basket, not a single word being uttered between you as you both move to the cashier.

The next thing you know, you are back to your place, fingers intertwined in Taiga’s. The whole thing seems surreal, but feeling the heat of his palm, you know that you aren’t dreaming. It is weird, but at the same time, it isn’t quite absurd. When your hands finally separate, you look at your shaking fingers, incredulous. Taiga has found his natural place in your kitchen, while you stand there, still trying to calm your frenetic heartbeat. And when you finally calm down (as much as you possibly can, that is), you walk to him.

“Hey Taiga” you speak up, gathering all the courage that you have.

He looks at you, a faint blush on his cheeks. There is something incredibly innocent in his gaze, and you feel your heart melt at the sight. He really can’t deceive you, can he?

“I just want to know… uh, about-“

“You wanna know if I like you back, don’t you?” he cuts you off.

You nod, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. He smiles, drying his hands in your kitchen towel. You wonder how he looks so calm compared to you; yet, you know that he isn’t unphased by the situation either. He is more tender than usual, a bit of shyness in his behaviour that has you believe that he is certainly affected by your confession earlier at the grocery store.

“I think I like you” he finally lets out. “At least, it makes sense to me if I do.”

“Yeah?”

He chuckles softly, eyes evading yours. It isn’t often that you see him so vulnerable, but it feels good to know that he’s allowing himself to show himself under such light.

“I don’t want to make things complicated by overthinking it but… if you’re up for it, we can give it a try.”

You smile, though on the moment you can’t quite grasp the reality of things. After all this time of being secretly into him, he finally reciprocates your feelings. It sounds like it comes right out of your own dreams, something that isn’t meant to be true, but it is. By the time you register the information, the tall boy is only mere centimetres away from you, hands once again holding yours. You look up, heaven in your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

He laughs, before muttering a soft yes. And as your lips touch his, all these sleepless nights where you tried to kill your feelings, all the times you felt guilty for the way your heart would run in his presence, and all the times you avoided his eyes and left his smiles unanswered so you wouldn’t send the wrong message – all of it, gone, like millions of ashes in the open sky, in a kiss you’re been hoping for too long.

*

 Taiga and you being together is one of these things that just makes sense. Family and friends alike agree on that statement, very few of them being surprised by the officialization of your relationship. Though it still makes you blush from time to time, you’ve grown more casual about it. Some moments still seem unreal, regardless. Whether it be waking up next to him almost every morning, or catching him looking your way with affection, it all seems too good to be real. A part of you struggles because the way things happened went way over your head. As much as you don’t want to doubt something that you hold so close to your heart, moments of uncertainty strike every now and then, and you bottle it up; just like you’ve bottled up your feelings for your best friend for the longest time.

And recently, doubts get the best of you even more, since your boyfriend is now working together with his ex. You don’t want to be the insecure significant other, the one that cannot trust and deems themselves unworthy of the love their receiving. But you’ve been there all this time Taiga dated his ex. You’ve seen them, you’ve seen the sweet kisses and the shared laughs, the warm hugs, and intertwined fingers. And more importantly, you’ve seen the state in which Taiga was when he broke up. An image of sadness that you wish never to see again, but putting aside the way you felt about it, you realize that he wouldn’t never have been so devastated by something that was meaningless to him.

“Things are good between us now, you know, since we’re working together.”

He confesses out of habit, getting used to tell you about everything and anything. Unbeknownst to him, you wonder in the depth of your soul if he’s not considering going back to them.

“Of course, it’ll never be the same, but I guess we can be friends, right?”

His words frighten you. Despite what he’d said the night of the break-up, you know he loved them. Be it enough or not, love is still love. While you admit that the concept is debatable, to you, love never dies – it’s just one of those things that keeps changing but it never disappears.

“Hey, you’re listening?”

Taiga’s hand waves in front of your face and you blink a couple of time, escaping your thoughts.

“I am” you simply reply.

A silence sets as you feel him observing your face. Just like you’ve come to know him by heart, he has the same ability to read you. The tiniest, most insignificant things are noticed. He takes some time but eventually, some of your thoughts are read on your face. You can’t tell what has betrayed you, but he knows. You deviate from his gaze – a bad old habit of yours, born in a tentative to protect yourself.

“I’m with you, you know that?” He speaks.

“I do” you respond confused as to why he’s stating the obvious.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer to him. A surprised look on your face, you try to understand what is going on.

“No, I mean…” he stops, taking his breath. “God, I’m so bad at talking about these things! I’m trynna say, I may get along with my ex but regardless… they mean nothing to me. Not that I want them to mean something either. I’m just glad there’s no grudge held anymore.”

Arm wrapped around your shoulders, he raises his eyes to the sky, looking at the same stars that were there when he came to you heartbroken. He ignores if they remember him, if they remember the way he looked that night – on the verge of tears yet uncapable of crying; but right now, he hopes with all his heart that they’re aware of how much he’s happy now, and If he ever has to cry in front of them again, it’ll be out of love for you, and you only.

“I told you that I thought we broke up because I didn’t love them enough, do you remember?” he asks you.

“Yeah.”

He lightly laughs before turning to you.

“I thought about it a lot and I actually didn’t love them the way I should have. Truth be told, I loved someone else that way back then. And I still do love that person like that. That’s why it wasn’t meant to last.”

You look at him, still confused and growing tired of not understanding the point he’s trying to make.

“Taiga, please, go straight to the point” you plead.

“It’s you, dummy. I loved you back then, subconsciously, yeah, but I still did. And I love now. I’m meant to love you, whether you want it or not.”

Oh.

For a moment, you remain speechless. This was not what you expected, let alone imagined. For as much as you’ve loved him, you never envisioned a reality where he would feel so strongly about you. but…

Enough with the buts. Enough with the doubts. Enough, enough, enough.

“Taiga?”

“Yes?”

You cup his face in your hands, taking him by surprise. Round eyes look at you, as you smile, holding back tears.

“I really love you.”

He snickers, hands joining yours.

“Thank god you do.”

It just makes sense, that he loves you as much as you love him. It only makes sense, that all your doubts seem suddenly baseless. It just makes sense that all this time, you were meant to be.

[sanderchu]

ok you know those little lego heart couple necklaces? they’re like two halves and then you put them together and it makes a heart?

what if reader got those with dream, karl, sapnap, tommy, ranboo and punz? (separately lol)

i just think that’s cute and they’d probably be the ones most likely to do it

More precious than rings

Note: I really want these with someone like so bad- If someone gave me one end of one- 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ I’m a sucker for those you don’t not know- anyways- this will include how you guys got it/made them and how they all feel with it and what color (ik that’s boring im sorry-)

Reader: gender neutral

Characters: Dream, Karl, Sapnap, Tommy, Ranboo, and Punz

Dream 💚

How you got/made it:

You both a little at home date and you were watching the Lego movie out of boredom and ended up going to buy legos just for that now you both have a mini box of legos because you both didn’t wanna bother building the set

Color: 💚

His: Green, Yours: Green

Reactions:

- he absolutely loves it

- Mainly puts it clipped on his jeans if he’s wearing jeans

- If not he puts it on his neck

- Not matter where he puts it on (backpack, keys, neck, etc.) you never see him without it

Karl 🌀

How you got/made it:

He surprised it for you anniversary after taking you out to your favorite spot for a date. He was pretty romantic with it and had it in a little box but not a box that looked like a ring so you don’t assume it was a ring it was a like a little earring box.

Color: 💜

His: Purple, Yours: Purple

Reactions:

- never takes it off unless he’s showering and he still has it in the same room as him

- Only says he will take it off when he marries you

- When you Not with him he looks at him to immediately make him feel happy

- Thinks it’s cute to put them together when he’s kissing you

- Completely mesmerizing to him

Sapnap 🐼

How you got/made it:

You both were playing minecraft late at night and he decided to give it to you. He had it for a while and thought that was a good time since you both are spending some time together. He wanted to give it time not rush to give it to you

Color: 🧡

His: Orange, yours: orange

Reactions:

- loves to cuddle you and play with your end

- always has it on his neck

- loves to use it as a way to get closer to you

- showing it off here and there is normal

Tommy ♥️

How you got/made it:

Him just being the classic Lego nerd when you guys were traveling one day and went to the Lego store

Color: ❤️🤍

His: Red, Yours: White

Reactions:

- doesn’t take it off at all

- Loves to show it off to his stream and literally everyone

- Always posting about it too since the day you both got it to god knows what day

- Loves to connect them when cuddling or hugging you to mess with you so you don’t leave his side

Ranboo 👑

How you got/made it:

Tommy dragged him to the Lego store one day and thought it would be nice to give it to you as a gift for being away from you.

Color: 🖤🤍

His: Black, yours: White

Reactions:

- thinks it’s the cutest thing ever

- Loves to connect them if he’s hugging you from behind

- Wears it on stream but when people mention it he ignores it to mess with people

Punz 🤍

How you got/made it:

You were actually the one to give it to him. He was streaming when you walked him and already had yours on. You just placed to box on his desk and placed a kiss on his head. Nothing wanting to disturb the stream more you just waved to chat and walked out

Color: 🤍

His: White, Yours: White

Reactions:

- thinks it’s cute but doesn’t really say it

- Mainly has it on his pants

- Likes to connect them to get you closer to him to mess with you

- Very silent about it if stream mentions it but definitely will show it off for a quick second if many people are asking

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[watiamdoingwithmylife666]

Hello !! I saw your Headcanon for Aot and I thought about how they would react if the reader (their s/o) saved their life ! Like for once they are the one needed to be saved and you save the day and all ! thank youuu !

Hii, I did my best, i hope you like it!

Warning: grammar error / curse?

Eren

Knowing Eren as much as you do make you always looking after him. And it has been useful a lot of time. But this time even more. You were together wandering in the city during your day off. Everything was fine, both of you were enjoying the sunny day. But that's until a group of men jumps on you and tried to put Eren in the back of the cart that pulls over a little bit further. You quickly fight back and manage to overcome two of them. After that You rush by Eren's side who was struggling to fight back against three other guys, together you briefly knock those guys before escaping in a hurry.

When you finally get back to the survey corp, you go warn the captain about what happened in the city. It's only after that you could have some peaceful time with Eren to talk about what happened.

"Thanks... For... You know, what you did. Thank you."

Jean

It's not unusual that you save Jean, or Jean saves you. You two are always here to save the ass of the other. Always grateful, he mostly repays you with extra food or doing a chore that you really don't want to do. But on a particular expedition, when things were heat, you didn't saw Jean anywhere in the field. The stress took over you and your eyes are scanning the area for more information. That's when you finally get your eyes on him that your heart dropped. Jean was in a bad state, you did as fast as you could to get him and bring him to the infirmary. He did lose a lot of blood, but he wasn't in danger anymore.

You decided to stay by his side the whole afternoon, you needed to be sure he was okay. So when he woke up, you had a big smile on your face, and he smiled back at you. Jean wanted to talk but his mouth was dried, you had to make him drank some water before he could finally talk.

"Damn, if I knew they had a pretty nurse here I would have come more often" you laugh at his remark, he was always playing the tough guy, even when he was hurt. "Thank you. You saved me again, it's like what? 7 for you and ... 5 for me?" He laughs but he looked sad now. "Maybe I'm not made for the survey corps... You gonna get tired to save my life when I can't even do it by myself..."

Sasha

Not that much to say, she will be grateful would do the same for you anytime. The situation doesn't even matter, if you save her, her eyes gonna be quickly wet and she will cry saying thank you for what you did. But don't hope that she will give you any food as a gift.

"Thank you! thank you so much! I always knew you were the best here!"

Mikasa

Mikasa was surrounded by titans, I mean everybody was in a difficult situation. But when you saw Mikasa in danger your blood run cold and join her in the middle of her surrounding. She was yelling at you to go away, that she can totally handle it on her own. But there is no way you leave her side. Slicing Titan's naps, again and again, You probably never killed that many titans in so little time, but the fact that Mikasa was in danger made you turn in the best soldier mode. Finally, when the danger was away from the two of you, you didn't take time to talk, other comrades needed your help right now. It's only on your way back that you felt something off. Most of the time, if it's not every time; Mikasa asked you if you are okay, or if you had been hurt. But not this time. She's next to you on her horse, but she doesn't look at you not even a glance. She's looking straightforward and that's all.

That's only later that day, just after diner, that your silent treatment was ending. She sat on her bed and asked you to sit next to her. She finally talked

"What you did today... It scared me. I thought I'd lose you, but you need to understand! I can't lose you! If you had been hurt today, it would have been because of me, and I couldn't handle the fact that I failed to protect you."

Levi

He would be so pissed off. His ego would be the problem. But he will never show you that. He gonna keep to himself the fact that you had to save him because he was careless, and he gonna be even rougher on himself with the training because that means he fails his team.

The situation would have happened outside of the wall, in the forest, where everyone was separated, and when everything gets overwhelming for everyone including you and Levi. It's not that he never face that many enemies at the same time. It's mostly because he was far too much tired, this boy didn't sleep well for a long time plus he was fighting all day. He was pushing his luck too far, and that is why you kept an eye on him, in case of something dramatic happened you could be there for him. And you were right. Too many things happened at the same time. That's how Levi didn't saw a titan behind him and kept fighting until he catches a glance at you at full speed coming near him. The look that crosses his face the moment he realizes what you did. His heart stopped for a second.

"thank you."

But even after saying thank you, when you get back home at the SC, he would asked you if he can offer a cup of tea as a thank.

"Thank you again Y/N, you fought well."

Erwin

This bitch had the audacity to say that he can be replaced. So let take this scene. Erwin just gave the order to charge and save Eren, the titan bite his arm, and you immediately turn over to follow him telling everyone that you're going to save him. Following him, you can see that he managed to get away from the titan. He was now yelling at you that you disobey, that you put yourself in danger for him, and that it was stupid. But before he could finish, some titans approach the two of you real quick making Erwin fall. You put yourself between him and the threat just in time, cutting the naps of any titans coming nearby your commander. As soon as possible you help Erwin to get back on his horse and do the same; Calling for retreat You keep an eye on him the whole way back within the wall. You can clearly see he doesn't feel good. His face is vivid, his eyes grow tired. So you're going with Erwin on his horse. The commander is big and you have some difficulties keeping him straight, you can feel his body becoming heavier the more you advance. You talk to him, ask him to not fall asleep, and he swears he does his best, but the rush of adrenaline that kept him awake fades with time.

Later that week, when you can finally see him you rush to his room. Levi just left, leaving you and the commander alone. He doesn't say a word at first, but when he finally breaks the silence he breaks your heart with it.

"I had time to think in this state. A part of me wants to say thank you for what you did. You fought well, kept me in security, and even took care of bringing me back... But it was stupid. You put yourself in danger for me when I am nothing more than your commander. Eren was in danger, and our best chance for the future, he was the best option to save. Not me, not after leading so many peoples to their death."

Miche

He has been in a difficult situation, but this time he was wondering how he could possibly survive. His squad and he had been separated. He was now alone smelling like two or three titans coming right in his direction. And the cherry on top, he was on the verge to running of out of gas. He can't see any of his comrades anywhere, his brain shows every possibilities. But the best is still going away by horse and try to find other soldiers. And luckily on his way, he crosses your path and feels relief. A part of him was scared that something happened to you. But just when he sighed, an abnormal titan runs straight to you. Both of you are now ready to fight and when you engage it the titan grabs Miche's wire. With its other hand, the titan grabs Miche's body and brings it to its mouth. But just before the worst happens you slice the nape and catch Miche before he gets crushed by the titan's body.

"It was close... Thank you y/n... Without you, I would have probably not made it alive."

Hange

Oh, welcome to the club, Moblit is the president of the club. Hange is reckless inside the wall when they do their experiments. But outside it's a little bit different. They're more aware of their surrounding. Saving them would happen quite some times. But this time was out of the ordinary. During the first test of the thunder spear, Hange was dangerously close to the spear. Moblit was yelling, as usual, to put some distance with the explosive. But as expected Hange didn't listen. And the spear was just a prototype, at this time, explode. Thank god you were fast, jumping on Hange to take them further. Their eyes were wide open, their look fulls of guiltiness. Moblit joins the two of you quick, asking if any of you had been hurt.

"I am so sorry Y/N, really! I put you in unnecessary danger, I hope you are okay? did you get hurt? Let me take you to the infirmary just in case, please!"

Moblit

Oh sorry, you thought you could save him? This boy is not a titan nor an Ackerman. But he doesn't need that. He is the assistant of Hange, what are you expecting from him? He doesn't need "instinct" like Levi or Mikasa. He got Anxiety, that far better. Every worst scenario happens? He already had them in his mind. The only thing that gets him, it if HE decides to. (like sacrifice himself for hange)

But if you happen to save his ass. Damn he gonna be grateful.

"I am really sorry Y/N, I've been careless. I hope you are not mad at me. I'm so grateful you were here it could have been disastrous... Thank you so much."

Kenny

Kenny and you know each other, not even for illegal things, you just happened to meet him and be nice to him that you became some kind of ... Friends? I mean you don't know shit about his life but it's the same for him. So friends is probably a big word.

But the time you saved him... You didn't really do it on purpose. His squad was at Trost and yours too. He was chasing after a bad guy (how ironic) and you were chasing after a group of people that stole something from the SC. You were running on the roofs using your equipment to go faster. You did not notice on your peripheral vision another group of persons using ODM, no your mind thought it was your squad. So, when a guy appears on the other side pointing a gun in your direction, you didn't think twice. Firing your ODM hook in his leg, before kicking him in the face. But that when you realize. The people approaching weren't your squad. Those were complete strangers.

" Y/N ? What the Fuck are you doing here ?!" you knew this voice and you jump to see his face.

"what? I fucking saved your life, the least you can do is to say thank you! "

"YOU WHAT ? You didn't do shit!"

"This bullet was meant for YOU!"

"You can't prove that, i'm not saying thank you."

[miekasa]

daylight’s wasting (you better kiss me)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x reader

↯ genre and warnings: college au, fluff, someone please be gentle with this boy i’m begging you, jean and eren pretending they don’t give a fuck about each other whilst actually being best bros for the win

↯ word count: 2k

↯ summary: based off of that reddit post about some guy talking about his girlfriend washing his hair for the first time + hoping it fills a request for someone asking for reader playing with eren’s hair for the first time :’)

↯ notes: this is cross-posted and edited slightly from another blog in a completely separate fandom, so if you’ve seen it before, no you didn’t </2

Jean can’t say that he immediately noticed a pep in Eren’s step when the green-eyed boy met him in the library, but what he does notice is the stupid, dopey looking grin and starry-eyed gaze in his eyes that he’s sporting while he’s not doing his part for their project. And while Jean considers himself relatively attractive, he knows for sure Eren isn’t shy about making it known that he doesn’t; so the brunette doubts the literal heart eyes Eren has are for him.

“Eren? Eren, bro, are you good?” Jean calls, a dark eyebrow raised above his left eye. Eren barely registers the calls of his name, and it takes Jean waving his hands in front of the shorter’s face for him to wake from his trance, looking up at Jean with that same, longing smile (that’s, admittedly, starting to creep him the fuck out).

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, something reminiscent of a lovelorn cartoon prince, as he rests his elbow atop his notebook and his chin the palm of his hand, “I’m good.”

Jean looks at him, skeptical and confused. He shifts in his seat, but Eren’s eyes don’t follow—he just stares ahead, lost in thought and completely unaware of everything around him. He looks like a lovesick little bitch if you ask Jean. Or completely sloshed.

Slowly, Jean leads forward, eyebrows pinched, looking for streaks of red in Eren’s eyes, “Are you stoned right now?”

“What?” Eren pulls back, almost offended, “No, I’m not high—Jean, what the fuck?”

Jean simply shrugs, leaning back into his seat, “I dunno. Yesterday you were so stressed about your acrobatic salt cycle samples—”

“—Acetylsalicylic acid. It’s basically Asprin, and I wasn’t stressed, they just weren’t crystallizing the they way they’re supposed to—”

“I don’t fucking care. But now you look mellow as hell,” Jean cuts him off, “Just thought maybe you rolled a good one before coming here or something. Not that I’m judging, of course. But you’re much more of a lightweight than you think, so try not to go—”

“‘M not a fucking lightweight,” Eren groans, “You and Reiner are just heavy bodied.”

“Just admit you can’t hold your shit, Jaeger.”

“I’m not admitting shit. Mikasa makes strong drinks, that’s all.”

Jean grits his teeth at Eren’s stubborn antics, but lets it go. It’s not like the conversation was going anywhere, anyways. “If you’re not baked, then what’s got your head in the clouds?”

Eren shifts in his seat now, pulling his hand off the table, and into his lap. Jean’s suspicious eyebrow is quirked again, and that slightly creeped-out feeling is back when he spots Eren’s ears going red.

Jesus Christ, he just asked a simple question.

“Not that I care,” Jean tacks on, feigning disinterest, “But if it’s gonna keep you from doing your half of the project, just spill it already so we can get this shit over with.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but that blush is still there. He looks like he contemplates waving it off for a minute, before he sighs. “(Y/N) and I showered together yesterday,” he finally blurts.

Jean blinks. “Oh. So you got laid—”

“—No, no, it wasn’t like that!” Eren corrects him, the red on his ears spreading to his cheeks slowly, with every word that spills out of his mouth. Eren stutters, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, “She just… She washed my hair.”

Eren sighs, flustered and frustrated, and annoyed that he looks like this in front of Jean’s horse-faced ass of all people; but he knows, that no matter how much shit Jean talks, he can rely on him. For better or (often times) for worse.

And Jean, for as hotheaded as he can get, and for as much as Eren annoys the shit of out him, knows how to read a room; and in this moment, he can see that Eren is actually coming to him with genuine emotions, other than masked anger and abrasiveness. So, the both of them concede; pull back from their usual pointed commentary, and listen to what the other has to say. 

“Ah,” Jean comments, lamely; an embarrassed blush of his own growing on his face at his stupidity. The two sit in silence for a moment, before Jean speaks up again, “It’s, uh… It’s nice, right?”

Eren’s eyes snap to him, wide. He almost completely forgot that Jean’s in a committed relationship, too. The two don’t often go to each other for relationship advice, or… relationship venting, but Eren makes a mental note that maybe, just maybe, he should.  

“Yeah,” Eren admits, “I don’t, uh, I don’t know how to explain it. It was just—”

“Relaxing?”

“Yeah. Like all the bullshit from school just melted away all of a sudden,” Eren confesses, “All she fucking did was wash my hair and hum for, like, five minutes, but I feel like… I don’t know. Good.”

Jean hums, acknowledging Eren’s words and mulling them over. “Loved,” he chimes in with an awkward cough, “Pretty sure that’s the word you’re looking for, Jaeger.”

Eren chokes on air, his eyes darting around the room. So, yeah, it’s still a little awkward, talking with Jean of all people about his relationship, and love, and all that gushy stuff; but, even Eren can admit, it’s comforting to know that someone knows what he’s feeling—even if that someone is Jean.

“You should tell her. Girls like that shit, when you tell em what you’re thinking, you know?” Jean comments, picking up his pen to resume scribbling in his notebook. He sounds nonchalant, but from the redness on his face, Eren can tell he’s just as flustered, and probably thinking about his own girlfriend. “Besides, you’ve been together for a long ass time now. Don’t know what you’re waiting for at this point.”

“Yeah,” Eren coughs, pretending to resume his own homework, “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Good,” Jean nods, “Now will you fucking paste your paragraph in the Google Doc so I can rewrite it and make it coherent.”

“Fuck you, it’s coherent as is.”

“As if. I’ve read your shit before, and it sounds like it was written by six year old on meth. You science majors can’t write to save your life.”

“Tough talk from someone who can’t do basic addition.”

“Derivatives and shit aren’t basic addition, they were created by a man who died a virgin. Tells me everything I need to know about them and you.”

Three days later, Eren finds himself alone in your off-campus apartment, laying on your bed, stomach to the mattress, while he tries to convince himself to study for his upcoming biology exam. He finds looking around your room to be much more interesting, though, and takes the time to notice things he hadn’t before.

There’s a small strip of images of the two of your in a clear mason jar on your nightstand—the newest addition to your collection—from the photo booth at the ice-skating rink you went to last week. Eren doesn’t know why you insist on going to every photo booth you come across, but who is he to deny you the pictures.

When he looks to your closet, he isn’t surprised to see two of his hoodies, one of his warm-up soccer uniforms, and last season’s hockey jersey hanging up. What does surprise him, is the way they’re all hung up next to each other, like they have their own little section amongst your clothing; like they were reserved, special almost. He bets they’re all probably washed and clean, too; because you take care of his things like that.

He thinks about how he has a few pairs of sweatpants and pajamas—hell, even a pair of slacks and a button-down from one of your fancier dates—all tucked away in his very own drawer in your dresser. The bucket hats thats you claim are oh-so ugly still have their own place in your room, hanging next to your belts. Even his psychology textbook sits on your desk, clearly set aside for him and taken care of, but still integrated amongst your other belongings. 

You seem to be the only person who thinks Eren and all his baggage can have a place in your life. You seem to always have space for things to fit in, no matter how stupid, or ugly, or tattered they are; no matter how emotional, or lost, or impulsive he is. Nothing is out of place here, himself included. 

Lost in his thoughts, Eren doesn’t register the sound of your front door opening, or your footsteps growing louder. In fact, he doesn’t register that you’re home at all, until you come padding into your bedroom, shaking your backpack off of your shoulders and setting it next to his on the ground.

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, almost offhandedly, as you place your coffee down on your desk. He doesn’t mind—actually the element of practiced casualness in your tone brings a kind of warmth to him, and makes his stomach flutter. 

“Hey,” he smiles, a stupidly fond look in his eye as his watched you shimmy your jacket off of your shoulders. 

Eren sits himself upwards, shifting so that his long legs dangle off the edge of your bed as he watching your silhouette move throughout your bedroom. When you’re finished removing all your layers and jewelry, you finally look to him, greeting him a second time as you walk towards him and your bed.

Eren cages you in when you reach him, his ankles wrapped on top of each other as he secures you standing between his legs. He wraps his arms loosely around your waist, while your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck.

“Your hair’s dry,” you hum, your fingers raking through his brown locks as if to make your point, “You didn’t shower yet?”

Eren shakes his head lightly, craning his neck forwards to tuck the cold tip of his nose into your collar. He holds you a little tighter when you smooth his hair down, one of your hands resting against the back of his neck, and lightly scraping at the hairs near his nape.

“How come?” you question innocently, “I thought your classes ended a few hours ago—did your lab go late again? You should tell your TA you have a life outside of trying to culture bacteria in a dish, you know.”

Eren chuckles lightly, but feels the concern in your voice tug heavily at his heart strings. You seem to really hate his lab TA.

“Wasn’t him this time,” Eren mumbles against your skin, “Was waiting for you.”

“Yeah? That gonna be a regular thing, now?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Eren confesses, words barely audible as he buries his face into your neck. He tries tickle you with his eyelashes, shift the heat towards you, but you move out of reach too quickly; your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit upright.

He has to look up you, just slightly, and he hopes he doesn’t look like a complete blushing idiot. If he does, you don’t seem to mind, if the way you cup his face between your hands is any indication.

“Well then, come on. I bought two new loofahs yesterday.”

Eren follows you to the bathroom with a smile, borderline giggling with excitement all the way to the shower. When it comes down to it, he relishes in the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp, suds of shampoo cascading down his neck as you find amusement in coiling his hair into a bubbly mohawk.

It’s so mundane, so simple, yet overwhelmingly intimate the way you’re taking care of him—the way you always take care of him. It fills Eren to the brim with emotions he can’t even begin to convey with words.

And when you’ve had you’re fun, and made sure his hair is throughly clean and smells like apples, you take your body wash on the ball of his (his! his very own!) loofah, and scrub away at his back, down his shoulders, across his torso; and Eren can’t stop the tears from falling.

He realizes his must look bizzare, to be standing the middle of your shower, crying like a baby with soap and suds all over his body, but he can’t help himself.

“Eren? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he assures you, hiccuping between his words and sniffling away any more tears that threaten to fall. You don’t seem convinced, and once again, Eren feels his heart swell at just the sheer thought at you’d hold even an ounce of concern for him the way you do.

“You’re crying, Eren,” you point out, voice soft, but clearly concerned, as you reach your hands up to cup his face again, “Did I hurt you? What’s wr—”

Eren cuts you off by wrapping you in a hug, hoping—praying—you know that you could never hurt him. The two of you spend nearly five whole minutes like that, your arms wrapped around each other’s middles, with warm water pouring over your naked skin. Eren can feel you pressing shallow kisses into his chest, and he feels his heart physically swell every time your lips make contact with his skin.

It’s on the fifth, quiet press of your lips that Eren knows he can’t hold it in anymore; pulls away from your embrace to look you in your eyes.

“I love you,” he finally confesses, with wet hair stuck to his forehead, and teary eyes. It’s hardly a picture perfect moment, but Eren can’t bring himself to care; he needs you to know.

But, of course, you already did. “I know, Eren,” you say with a smile, kissing his chin, and then on the tips of your toes, his lips, “And I love you more.”

[greenhappyseed]

BnHA Ch.340 - Review, parallels & comparisons

I take back everything I said in my leak reactions post except how much I love Sansa’s faces. This chapter was great! The real thing was so much better with full art and all the wordy bits together in context. Strategy-wise, I’m glad the heroes are FINALLY taking a page out of the villain playbook — we’ve seen our heroes get separated at USJ, the forest camp, Kamino, the UA crush in the provisional licensing arc, the Shie Hassaikai raid, the war arc, Deku’s solo stint….and never with a backup plan or Plan B. They CAN be taught!

At the outset, I was struck by the All Might/Aizawa foiling that forms the backbone of the chapter. They’re in the same building at the same time; a first since They Talked™️ in Ch.257. I love seeing these two disabled heroes, who were originally staunch loners, learning to rely on each other as a team. Of course, they still have very different styles. All Might is big and theatrical and energizing the crowd; Aizawa is quiet and straightforward and helps others conquer their fears 1 on 1. But seeing each man using their individualities to bring strength to a team? Yeah, we love to see it.

I also like seeing All Might express faith in Aoyama’s heroism, because it’s the answer to the question Present Mic was asking a few chapters back; namely, can you really trust this kid? As I wrote here:

Mic is asking the kids to think hard about whether Yuga — the kid who sold out the heroes to save his family — is the right person to help the heroes deceive AFO. AFO, who wont hesitate to kill Yuga’s parents. The generations-old guy who can sense emotions and a change of heart from afar. Who uses other senses to make up for his lack of sight (meaning he likely has a Matt Murdock-like ability to sense pulse rate changes when people lie). In other words, what’s to prevent Yuga from victimizing heroes like Aizawa AGAIN when AFO goes after Yuga’s parents, as he most certainly will?

The real answer is no, they can’t 100% trust him, but they can support him and influence him with friends and faith. Friends to protect Aoyama and his family, and then faith that Aoyama will pick himself up and be a hero. Both All Might and Aizawa decide to put their faith in Aoyama, just as Izuku and 1A did last chapter.

But I was impressed we heard All Might say, out loud, that this was a matter of willpower and CHOICE. He chooses to trust Aoyama and Aizawa, just as he chooses to keep living. All Might may not have a lot of options in this final battle, but he still affirmatively chooses to speak up and support Aoyama rather than roll over. It’s a nice parallel between All Might/Yoichi and Izuku/Aoyama. Yoichi, as the vestige leader, had to convince Second to support Izuku, just as All Might is convincing Tsukauchi to support Aoyama. Is it delusional to believe a traitor can save them all? “Can these boys really bring an end to all this?” Yes, they can.

Further, All Might recognizes what AFO has done to Aoyama. AFO forced the kid to betray the heroes (or what Tsukauchi crassly refers to as “decent society”) but Aoyama did it to SAVE his parents. Aoyama knows what he did was wrong, but he had to choose who to save. He didn’t want to hurt his friends or teachers and is wracked with guilt over it. All Might, more than anyone else, knows how AFO uses lives as tools and throws them away.

Toying with and breaking people is the very source of All Might’s rage against AFO, and the reason he says he can’t forgive AFO in Kamino. (Reminder: When All Might talks “defeat” or “putting down for good,” he doesn’t mean death, even for the “unforgivable” AFO.)

There is also the harsh parallel to All Might’s own life. Since middle school, All Might has been “the pillar” and “the symbol,” but as the star-headed dude said in Ch.325, “along the way people forgot about the heart and soul that made the man.” All Might was himself exploited as a resource by citizens and other heroes. He knows the feeling of a society resting on his shoulders. He knows Aoyama’s inner turmoil. And he knows he passed all of that on to Izuku, too.

Actually, this chapter has both Aizawa and All Might reflecting on how they — as heroes and hero course teachers — are helping society exploit their students. Let’s turn to Aizawa: He’s had a similar pep talk with Izuku before the Shie Hassaiki raid, but here he is refreshingly blunt about the role of his students in this battle. Aizawa is taking personal responsibility for these kids and the choice to put them on the front lines. I don’t think we’ve EVER seen that before. Not from Nana or Gran, not from Nezu, not from the HPSC. And while both sides use people as tools, the difference is (1) Aizawa is transparent about what he is doing with Aoyama and Shinso; and (2) he won’t abandon his students afterwards when their utility is gone.

Art-wise, look carefully at the panels of prior Tartarus conversations vs this Aoyama conversation. Horikoshi generally places his heroes on the RIGHT side of the page, except when making a particular point (go back to Ch.116 and see when AFO is flipped to the right side). But here, Aoyama is on the right side at the end. Kurogiri is shown head-on. Aizawa knows these 2 characters; he’s seen what’s in their hearts. He knows they can be heroes — and he knows they have friends to support them — so THEY sit in the hero’s chair. I still think that, overall, Aizawa is out for revenge for everything the LOV has done to him and his students, but he’s become more flexible in how he thinks about villainy and unfairness starting with people he personally knows well.

In the panel below, Aoyama’s middle is missing, removing both his restraints AND all associations with his purchased quirk. Aoyama can still be a hero without that quirk (and, in fact, his value to the heroes right now has more to do with AFO than a belly button laser). BUT AIZAWA IS BEING HEROIC WITHOUT HIS QUIRK TOO. In this panel, Aizawa is exposing all of his physical weaknesses to the reader. His right eye, right elbow, and right leg are mutilated. Yet you can barely see that in the image. With everything hospital- and quirk-related stripped away, and both characters in clothes that aren’t their own, all you see is the teacher engaging his pupil in a vital lesson. That’s how Aizawa can contribute for now.

Finally, why is 10km (~6.2 miles) the minimum separation distance for AFO and Shig? A few possible reasons:

It’s outside the radius of most radio waves so AFO and Shig can’t communicate easily;

it’s outside the radius of AFO’s gloopy warp (which definitely goes 5km in Kamino but unclear if it can go further than that);

vertically upwards 10km is the separation line of the atmosphere between weather/water vapor and calmer skies (but thinner air and less oxygen; eg, helicopters can’t fly 10km high);

vertically downwards it’s the edge of the earth’s crust (eg, the heat will kill you unless you regenerate like Shig in the Star chapters). For reference, Tartarus is only 0.5km below sea level, and AFO was able to coordinate w/Shig there.

We learned last chapter that the UA buildings can tunnel underground AND can fly (though Power Loader hints this may not be fully operational yet). Given that tidbit, I’m guessing this battle will go all out above and below ground. Also, AFO!Shig has wings and post-Tartarus AFO does NOT have Air Walk. While we’re on the subject, AFO!Shig lost Reflect, which would have been the hard counter to Aoyama’s navel laser, but AFO should still have his copy. Of course, who knows what quirks they’re swapping around with the LOV as they prepare for war!