#last reblog just got me thinking about how the world around us may not and may never want us to be happy

[kiisuuumii]

i hope you can come to believe that you can be happy in this life

[rudescape]

hell o

just gonna vent in the tags real quick

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 10

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 9 | Series Masterlist | Part 11

Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a good day today.

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4.4k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mild dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The next day you cautiously looked around your bedroom as you opened your eyes. You expected to find Bucky in bed beside you since you wouldn’t have put it past him to sneak back into your place once you fell asleep. It was a relief to find yourself alone. It also surprised you that you slept so soundly, but the night before had mentally worn you out. Bucky and his crew were a lot to handle.

If you truly accepted that you were going to be Bucky’s girl, you’d have to get used to them.

“No,” you whispered. You weren’t going to accept it. Not today. Bucky may have taken a few hits at your inner armor, but you’d repair it. You couldn’t give in. But last night, thinking of asking him for your own space at his place, he was luring you in his direction. You had to tread carefully and not lose your resolve.

You got out of bed and went to retrieve the necklace that Bucky gifted you on your first “date”. The diamonds sparkled and reflected the light as you admired them. Beautiful, lavish, something you could easily lose if you weren’t careful. A gift for a pretty doll. Not for someone like you.

“Just buy me a collar and show the world that you own me,” you muttered.

Grabbing your phone, there were no new texts or calls from Bucky. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but you’d take it as a small win that he hadn’t blown up your phone. Smiling to yourself, maybe you could have another small win today. An opportunity.

“Hey! I know it’s short notice, but are you free Saturday? Maybe we can do a small girls' day outside of the city if you aren’t busy with wedding prep.” You sent to Addison. “And I can’t wait to hear about The Terrace.”

It didn’t matter to you that Bucky had some sort of power in various parts of the city, more than you could possibly imagine. You were still your own woman and you wanted to spend time with your friends. After he had a hand in messing up your night with Addison, he owed you that. And the best part? If you went outside of the city, it meant you could have fun at a place he couldn’t touch.

Right?

“The Terrace was AMAZING! I can’t wait to tell you all about it. And are we sharing a brain? I was just getting ready to text you! How about The Winery at Hunter’s Cove? It’ll be fun!” Addison sent back.

You frowned at your phone. The Winery at Hunter’s Cove was beautiful and the perfect place to relax with a drink and good company. Reading that should’ve filled you with joy, but your shackles rose up. It didn’t feel right. Did Bucky or Nick or someone have anything to do with that?

After a second, you laughed. Your nerves were continuing to get the better of you. It wasn’t as if you could go the rest of your life with second guessing everything. It would drive you crazy.

“Just give me a time and place to meet and I’ll be there. Can’t wait!”

A bright smile on your face, you got ready for the day with a spring in your step. A spark of optimism lit within you and you let it spread as you set out your work clothes. You even sang to yourself in the shower and drew a smiley face in the fogged up mirror before you dressed yourself. It was going to be a great day.

“I’m walking on sunshine. Whoa-oh,” you sang as you opened the front door.

“And don’t it feel good,” you heard from the hallway.

“Shit!” Your heart pounded as Bucky stood there with an amused smile on his face. How long was he waiting there? Did he know you were leaving right now? “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

God forbid the man give you even half a day to breathe.

“I know I said I’d try to meet you for lunch, but I couldn’t wait. I thought it’d be nice to take you to work instead,” he said, his eyes still sparkling as he moved closer. An impeccable suit like always, but today he wore an aqua shirt. He was really leaning into the shirts that enhanced his eyes. “You’re in a chipper mood. That’s nice to see.”

You were in a bit of a chipper mood until now. No, you wouldn’t let him showing up put a damper on things. “Just determined to have a good day,” you explained, looking at his arm before you took it. “I’m actually glad you’re here,” you added. You did have to talk to him about Saturday and, well, whatever the future would bring.

“Yeah? I’m glad I’m here, too.” His eyes lit up as he glanced at you. He looked over the moon and you had to sweep your gaze down to avoid his stare. “Is it bad if I admit I stayed up way too late staring at your photo?” He smiled, leaning in like he was telling you a secret.

If you had to guess, he likely jerked off to your picture. How long would that keep him satisfied? His control had to be diminishing. “A picture of me is hardly a reason to lose any sleep.”

“Worth every second of lost sleep. I definitely need more pictures.” Your stomach dropped when his smile widened. “You know, the more I think about it, I kind of want to replace that painting in my office. Maybe it could be a photo of us or even just you? Or Steve could paint us! I know he’d love that.”

Guilt brewed within you since he sounded so enthusiastic and you would likely crush that mood, but you pushed that feeling aside. There was no reason for you to feel bad in the least. “So, I’m going out with my girlfriends on Saturday. Somewhere outside of the city,” you blurted out to change the subject, staring at the elevator door when the smile slipped off his face.

You were suddenly terrified of his reaction and you were about to step into a very small space with him. There would be no hiding. So much for treading carefully, but it was better in this case to just rip the bandaid off.

Bucky’s stare was almost impassive as you went into the elevator, which had your heart speeding up. “You’re going outside of the city?” His voice was soft, but had an edge that threatened to cut through you like a knife. “Without me?”

“It’s just a short girls trip. A bit of time with my friends. You understand, right?” Your voice cracked, your body tight with tension. “You and I didn’t have any plans, so maybe you can hang out with the guys.”

“I don’t want to hang out with them. I see them all the time,” he said, bringing his lips to your ear with a shaky breath. “I want to be with you.”

The air thickened, the elevator feeling smaller than usual as you considered his words. He didn’t sound upset that you wanted to go, but because you wanted to go without him. Sympathizing with his loneliness wouldn’t help your case, not when he manipulated things in his favor.

“I know this may not be easy, but you need to accept that I have friends, Bucky. That I had a life before you… showed up. It wasn’t much, but it was mine,” you said, not daring to turn your head and risk his lips touching yours. “It’s good for us to have things outside of each other. And may I remind you what you said on our first date? You said you wouldn’t stop me from spending time with my friends or having hobbies.”

Bucky almost seemed to need you and no one had ever needed you before. But he couldn’t completely depend on you for whatever it was he needed either. Relying on you too heavily wasn’t healthy. It wouldn’t just smother you, it would eventually destroy you both.

“I remember,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I just don’t know if it’s safe for you to be so far away from me for the time being. I think I’ve said I don’t even like you being in this building because my place is safer than yours. And if I haven’t, I’m telling you now.”

Worry crept into your face as you inched away a bit and faced him. “Why wouldn’t I be safe going out with my friends?”

His blue eyes narrowed, but there was no annoyance there. “Kotyonok, you may be innocent in some ways, but you aren’t naive or that forgetful. I told you last night that you need people looking out for you if you’re with me,” he said, your stomach sinking more. He was right. “And you must be aware that I have my hand in things outside of the club. You’ve seen some of the company I keep. Do you think everything we have was earned through honest, hard work?”

The men Bucky surrounded himself with lived in the gray. You couldn’t ignore obvious signs, like how Marc reacted to hearing his name. Bucky even treated your courting that way, breaking in and intimidating you. “It’s none of my business,” you said. The more you knew, the harder it would be to get away. “I haven’t even looked for anything about you online.”

“The harsh reality is that it’s going to become your business, at least it will to a certain extent. I can’t leave you in the dark, but I don’t want you fully exposed.” He sighed, suddenly looking tired. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a hint of regret there. It disappeared quickly. “As far as looking online, you probably wouldn’t find much. We work hard to keep it that way. I don’t even have social media. Though if I did, it might just be photos of you and the two of us together.”

“So, you don’t want me to go out of the city for my safety?” You asked, stepping off the elevator. You wanted to believe that was his twisted reason for having you move in so soon and not because he wanted you close for his own selfish desires. Wasn’t it selfish though for dragging you into his world without so much as a warning or giving you a choice? “Do you really think people outside of your circle know we’re ‘together’ yet? You said it yourself, you don’t have social media and it isn’t like I’ve been in your life for that long.”

“As far as I know, no one is aware,” he said slowly. After what he did to John for merely insulting you, you prayed no one would be stupid enough to cross your path and try to cause you hurt or harm. “But I don’t know if I want to take the risk.”

“You wouldn’t be taking the risk. I would. And it isn't fair that you’d expect me to put my life on pause,” you argued, seeing Ray standing outside of the car. How the hell did they get a spot right in front of the building? “Ray, would you kindly tell your boss that I should go out with my friends on Saturday? Please?” You cut him a pleading look, needing this.

Ray blinked twice. “I’d rather not get involved in that quarrel,” he said, looking at his boss. “But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”

“Yes! That’s a great idea. Thank you, Ray,” you smiled before Bucky could interject. You wouldn’t normally agree to someone hovering nearby, but right now you could kiss Ray for the suggestion. “See? I get time with my friends and you don’t have to worry about my safety. Problem solved.” You even flashed him a soft smile for good measure.

You weren’t sure if it was your smile, the stare from his bodyguard, or the combination that made Bucky nod, but your heart soared. “I guess I’ll have to see if someone is free.” He let out a humorless laugh and raked a hand through his hair as Ray looked at his feet. “Using one of my men to sway me? You’re playing dirty. I’m impressed.”

“Or maybe I’m just learning how to play your game,” you said, ducking into the car with Bucky right behind you. The happy feeling was back in full force. Had Bucky not agreed, you would’ve been defiant and gone anyway. Who knew how that would’ve gone? This was a better compromise. For now.

“Ray really does have a soft spot for you,” Bucky said once the door was shut, taking your hand. “It would worry me if he wasn’t so loyal.”

“Worry about what exactly?” You asked.

“Him trying to get you away from me.” He smiled a bit, making you shift in your seat. Did he know you had tried to get Ray on your side? “But he isn’t a man to typically let his emotions drive him. He’s loyal.”

“He won’t try to get me away from you, Bucky. He knows you’re happier because I’m in your life and wouldn’t risk changing that,” you said, thinking back on your conversation with Ray. It wasn’t like you wanted to assure Bucky that you two would be together, but you also didn’t want his bodyguard on the man’s bad side indirectly because of you. Not when he watched out for you. “Maybe he isn’t a man driven by emotions, but I think he does care about your emotions.”

“Maybe,” he smiled softly as he kissed your hand, making you gasp when he gently nipped one of your knuckles. “There’s something else you want to say. I can feel it.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “If I move in with you, I need my own space.”

He looked surprised. Not entirely, but there was still a flicker there. “So, you’ve accepted that you’re moving in with me. I’m glad to hear that.”

“I said ‘if’, Bucky.” You had to emphasize that. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen, but you do need to give me some leeway if it does.”

His tone was calm, dare you say serene, when he asked, “And what exactly would your own space entail?”

“An area for me. Not for you, Ray, or anyone else. Just me,” you said. Nothing in your life felt sacred anymore. You needed your own sort of safe haven and a place to relax, even if it was in the prison he helped create. “That’s important to me and I won’t budge on that.”

“Okay. A space just for you if that’s what you want. I won't let anyone go in there,” he promised.

Your gaze was skeptical. Why was he being so agreeable? Well, agreeable to a point. “That would be really nice,” you said, your eyes shifting from suspicion to gratitude.

“But as far as sleeping arrangements, I want you in bed with me,” he said, his voice raspier as his gaze went to your legs. “It’s a shame you have to cover yourself up for work, but I’m looking forward to helping you out of your clothes. I wonder if the smell of those petals seeps through the fabric. I can’t wait to find out.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, his gaze telling you to part your thighs. You didn’t, even when he sighed.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t get us worked up and make you late for work,” he said, sounding anything but sorry before he reached for something beside him. At least he didn't push it further. “Before I forget.”

“What’s this?” You asked as he handed you a book.

“The one from the shop yesterday. You left it here last night.”

“Oh.” You were so eager to get out of the car that you had left it behind. There was also a small stack of books on the other seat you hadn’t noticed before. “And what are those?”

“I went back to the shop and got more from that same author,” he smiled, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “You seemed to like the book you were reading and I don’t recall seeing any of those books at your place.”

The gesture took you by surprise. “How? The shop opens later and was closed by the time you brought me back last night.”

“They were kind enough to open a little earlier than usual for me,” he said.

You ran your hand over the spine and smiled before you could stop yourself. It was the kind of gift you wished for, books to line your shelf. “You didn't have to do that,” you said when you caught him staring. “But thank you.”

“You have such a beautiful smile,” he whispered, brushing his hand over your cheek again before he took out his phone. “And you just inspired me.”

“How did I do that?” You questioned, watching him quickly type a message. “And should I be scared?”

“I can’t spoil the surprise,” he winked, typing a bit more. “But I do have a plan and I think you’re going to like it.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, your mind drifting to work. “I’m curious. You mentioned that the last flower your dad gave to your mom was a black dahlia. Was that her favorite flower?”

He paused before he put his phone away. “No. She loved alstroemerias.”

“The Peruvian Lily. Those are beautiful,” you smiled. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s one of the flowers I like to donate to the hospital because they have no fragrance, but still brighten up the room.”

“I know.” He swallowed, a shine in his eyes before he blinked a few times. “Yellow ones.”

Your eyes snapped to his face. “I donate a lot of flowers. It’s oddly specific that you know I donate yellow alstroemerias.”

“I told you I did my research on you,” he whispered.

“So, what? You got… hospital footage or something of me?” You felt your blood boil. How many boundaries did he cross, rules did he break? “I saw the look you gave Thor. You didn't want him to mention that, did you?”

His gloved hand curled a bit. “He was complimenting you, but I wasn't ready for that conversation. At least, not last night.”

“Why not?” You asked. Why did it matter?

“Because you already think I’m crazy,” he said. You didn’t deny that. “And what I tell you, you may either agree with me that fate brought you into my club and life or that I really am crazy.”

“I don’t know what that means,” you said. The grave look in his blue eyes gave you pause. The fond gazes and even the heated, intense ones, you were almost used to them. Sadness? That was something else.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He nodded toward the window. “You should head into work.”

You didn’t realize the car stopped. Work would be a good distraction anyway. “I’ll get the books later.”

“And I’ll walk you to the door,” he offered.

Helping you out of the car like he did every other time, he guided you toward the flower shop with a possessive touch. “You know, you haven’t asked where I’m going on Saturday.”

“I’m sure I’ll get it out of you, especially if one of my men needs to be nearby. Maybe I can buy you a new outfit to wear,” he said, tracing a finger along your neck. “Or maybe a collar to show off while you tell your friends all about me.”

“A collar.” Your body went rigid, remembering what you muttered in your bedroom. “Why would you…”

“Maybe I’ll see you at lunch? I’d love to look around the shop.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Have a good day and be good,” he added, opening the door and giving you a pat on your ass before you went inside.

You looked over your shoulder as he went back to the car. The first thing you were going to do when you got home was tear your place apart from hidden microphones or cameras. You should’ve done that the second he broke into your place. You live and you learn.

“And who is that handsome young man?” Mrs. Crandle asked from behind the counter.

You smiled as you turned toward your boss and the owner of the shop, one of the kindest people you had ever met. It was a good sign that she didn’t recognize Bucky. “Someone who thinks he’s my boyfriend,” you teased a little. You couldn’t burden her with the whole truth.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” She knew you hadn’t dated in ages. “And what do you think?”

“I think he’s very determined to win me over,” you said, going to put your bag away.

“Let him!” She called after you.

“Maybe!” You called back.

As you went about your tasks, you pondered on what Bucky had to tell you and the anniversary Marc mentioned. It had to do with Bucky’s mom, it had to, but what did that have to do with you? Not every customer became registered in the system, but your team did a great job of keeping order history for deliveries, parties, and more. Nothing came up when you searched “Barnes”.

You tapped your finger against the keyboard before you straightened up. Hospital donations likely wouldn’t have a name saved since you weren’t usually given the patient names. You did, however, keep track of the dates. If you knew the range to check…

“Excuse me?” A deep timbre pulled your attention away.

You glanced up to find one of your regular customers towering over the counter. Blue eyes crinkled behind his glasses when he smiled, his dark curls adding to his boyish charm. For such a large and imposing man, he kept his shoulders hunched and voice gentle. Like he was trying to make himself look friendlier. “Clark, hi. Sorry about that,” you said, closing out your search screen. Mrs. Crandle was back in her office and you wouldn’t make her help him. “How are you today? A dozen red roses, right?”

Clark usually showed up once a month to get a dozen roses for his girlfriend. No more, no less. But the mention of his usual order made his smile disappear. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be needing those today.” He took off his glasses to clean them when you set out the bouquet, though there wasn’t a spec of dirt on the lenses. “I, um… Well, I’m not in a relationship anymore. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” You felt terrible, especially since you weren’t sure what to say. It wasn’t your business regarding why things ended, but he always seemed so happy when he purchased the roses. “Are you okay?”

He put his glasses back on, his eyes holding a weight of sadness. “I’m sorry, too. And I’m not sure if I’m okay. Everything seemed fine and then it fell apart.” He sighed, looking around the shop. “I’m not even sure why I came here today.”

You felt for him. You really did. “Well, it could’ve been part of your monthly routine and you went on autopilot? Or you wanted to go somewhere familiar?” You suggested, looking around, too. “Or maybe you thought the bright atmosphere would help?”

He nodded after a moment. “It could be any of those things.” Scratching the back of his neck, he sadly chuckled. “It’s just an empty feeling being alone again, you know?”

“I do know. Emptiness can weigh a lot and it’s very lonely to walk alone. But that walk, no matter how long or short, makes us stronger. It gives us a chance to grow until we find someone to walk with us again. And when that happens, things will look much brighter.” You said, your heart heavy as you selected a couple of roses from the bouquet. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for my input and that’s probably the last thing you want to hear.”

“No, that’s… Thank you. You’ve always been really kind. Insightful.” He glanced down as you put the roses in his hand, his large hand closing around the stems. “What are these for?”

“I’m happy to help,” you smiled. “They’re for you. No charge.”

He gazed at you before he placed them back in your hand. “You take them.”

You weren’t sure why the gesture made you feel uncomfortable, but it did. Maybe it was because he was fresh out of a relationship. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’m surrounded by flowers,” you said, gesturing with your free hand. “You keep them. Or you could always give them a neighbor or someone who needs cheering up.”

“You sure you don’t want them?” He asked when you passed them back again. You pulled your hand away quickly, refusing to let it linger. “You really have been so kind to me whenever I’ve stopped in.”

“Well, you’re a great customer.” You also didn’t want to have to explain to Bucky that a customer tried to give you flowers. “Take them. I insist.”

Flashing you a warm smile, he relented. “Thanks,” he said, hesitating when he went to turn away. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“I’m sure you’ll see me at the shop,” you said carefully. Unease filled you, which didn’t make sense. Clark was a regular customer who wanted nothing to do with you. But if he did have some sort of intention, you weren’t about to lead him on. “I hope things look up.”

Clark hesitated again before he pushed his glasses up and headed out of the shop without another word. You swallowed, staring at the remaining roses as if they would tell you what to do next. For now, you’d have to brace yourself for Bucky stopping by for lunch. And maybe you’d ask him if there were any devices hidden around your place and save you the trouble of tearing the rooms apart.

Though you had a feeling you weren’t going to like the answer.

Awful nice of Ray to suggest some leeway, wasn't it? Is Clark going to be a problem? What's Bucky going to think? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (7.5)

chapter 7.5: limbo

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; minho's pov; non-explicit smut, kissing, grinding, implied unprotected sex; alcohol consumption, non-linear storytelling (jumps around a few random scenes before we get back to the present that picks up from the end of chapter 7), cursing, the final line :-?; not that unedited i am so so sorry lol word count: 5.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Wishing fountains, we pray for change in the dark Moving mountains, we end up right where we start The world’s not falling apart But you and I, baby we are

Wishing Fountains - Bad Suns

“What does it say?” Minho asks.

You sigh, your eyes trailing the words on the small piece of paper in your hands before you shove one half of the fortune cookie in your mouth. It seems dry; you look like you can barely swallow it.

“Bullshit,” you say simply, a little bitter before you hide behind a mask of indifference, turning to him as you ask, “Yours?” 

He breaks his own fortune cookie in half, pulling out a similar piece of paper that reads, “‘Jeg elsker deg’ means ‘I love you’ in Norwegian.”

You're both lying on a fluffy rug on the floor of your bedroom, with an empty bottle of rosé sitting somewhere near your head. “That’s... random,” you say, casting your eyes to the ceiling. “But I mean, at least it’s kind of educational. Now you know a phrase in Norwegian.”

“Sure,” Minho laughs, testing out the syllables in his mouth and butchering them in the process. “Who would I even say it to?”

“Impress your future girlfriend with your worldly knowledge. Or say it to Hyunjin, I’m sure he’ll swoon and blush like a schoolgirl.”

“That’s the last thing I want. He’s already clingy enough as it is.”

“Alright. Well, your loss then.”

He only hums in response. “You’re really not gonna tell me what yours is?”

“I told you. It’s bullshit.”

“Wanna tell me why the fortune cookie is evil at least? I’ll fight it for you.”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder with a playful scoff. “It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

It takes a minute for you to gather your thoughts into one semi-cohesive pile. 

“Just… reminds me how I don’t really fit into anyone’s life,” you start, your voice coming out a little small and timid before you seem to let the alcohol give you enough confidence to say what you want. “I don’t feel like I’m worth anyone’s time. Everyone’s going to outgrow me eventually, if they haven’t already. Their lives will only get bigger and bigger, and they’ll have to leave me behind at some point. All that space but none for me.

“I think I’ll be stuck like this forever, in this fucking… limbo. And I know it’s dramatic because we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives in front of us and whatever else that people say. But it feels like wherever I go and whatever I do, my life will always be this small while you all move on. Chan and Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, even Hyunjin and Jisung when they’re not too busy being idiots. Everyone’s got everything all planned out, and they have other things to fall back on if those plans don’t work out. If I fall, I think I’ll just keep falling until I hit rock bottom.

“And you… you’re gonna do great things too. You’re gonna live your life and it’s going to be a good one, and you’ll forget about me too. A few years from now, when everyone’s already moved on, I’ll just be a girl that you used to know. I’m just a stop along the way.”

Then you pause, and the laugh you let out afterward is choked up and not at all sincere. You rub your hands down your face, groaning a little when you say, “Ugh, that was depressing. Sorry, it’s the wine. Forget I said anything.”

You have beautiful eyes, that’s what Minho has always thought, the kind that holds all the universe’s sparkles and all its sadness too, a bittersweet balance. The kind that makes one want to stop and admire for a while. He loves when they light up before the joy gradually spreads across your face, like watching the sun peak over the horizon before it colors the sky with ethereal pinks and purples and blues. You’re a wonderful sunrise, his favorite part of every day.

He even loves your faraway gaze when you’re here but you’re elsewhere simultaneously, hiding in your eyes musings that are privy to nobody else. You’d stare into the distance and he’d watch you the whole time, wondering if any of the thoughts that occupy your mind are about him.

Minho has an urge to take you into his arms and hold you tight and tell you that everything’s going to be okay. That no one’s going to forget about you because you’re not someone who can be forgotten so easily, let alone be forgotten by him. That he isn’t going anywhere if it’s not by your side, that he wants to be in your life until you decide you’re sick of him, not the other way around.

He wants to tell you he loves you because that’s the truth. He was gone the minute he saw you at that stupid party years ago when you had walked in shyly with Chan and Jess. You had tried to make yourself smaller in a roomful of strangers, but you’ve always been the only one Minho could find in a crowd.

Years and years from now, when he thinks back to his youth, the highlight reel that will pop up in his mind will be of his idiot friends and the good memories they’ve shared with one another. How they laughed and cried, how they fell and got back up together time and time again.

And at the center of it all will be you. Green grass, blue skies, his golden days and you, the focal point of his youth.

He loves you. Would it help, or would it scare you?

He doesn’t let himself debate that question for long. Regardless of what the answer is, now isn’t the right time. So instead, he says, “For what it’s worth, everyone’s just taking it one day at a time, even if they seem like they have it all planned out. You’re not falling behind. You’re going at your own pace, who cares about other people?”

You turn your head to stare at him, your cheeks flushed with a rosy tint from the wine you had shared and a pensive look on your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but he holds your gaze anyway.

“And I can’t speak for anyone else, but you’ll always have me. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

A quiet moment passes. If Minho focuses hard enough, he thinks he might be able to hear the faint beats of your heart.

His gaze flickers to your lips for barely a second before it returns to your eyes, quick enough for it to escape your notice.

Then, you’re holding yourself up on one elbow and shuffling into his orbit until you’re right by his side. He doesn’t move a single inch; he only watches as you get closer, and closer, and closer until there’s no more space between the two of you. He blinks, and in that split second he misses the way you let your eyes shut as you lean down to press your lips to his.

He’s surprised, but pleasantly so.

You taste like rosé, like something he’s always known that he wants to chase.

It stuns him enough that he forgets to respond, his mind focused solely on the feeling of your soft lips on him, the scent of your jasmine perfume and how you’re so warm pressed against him like this.

Maybe it’s the stillness of his body that shocks you out of it, because you pull away after a few seconds with an instant look of mortification in your eyes, trying to scramble back to your original spot on the rug like you’ve just committed an unspeakable sin. Running away, he thinks, is your first instinct.

But Minho is just a tad quicker than you are. He doesn’t let you stray very far when he props himself up to cup your face with one hand and bring you back to him.

He’s kissing you again and for a brief moment, he feels like he could die.

You don’t break from him this time. Instead, you’re kissing him back just as deeply. You let him lower you back to the floor as he holds himself up above you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips while his thumb strokes your cheek softly, keeping you there in his loose hold so you could still run if that’s what you want to do.

But you stay with him, your hands trailing up the expanse of his chest to find purchase on his shoulders, your legs parting so he could perfectly slot himself into the space that you’ve allowed him.

When he rocks his hips into you experimentally, you bite on his bottom lip, a whining sound from your throat comes out muffled against his mouth.

He strays just long enough and far enough so he could look into your eyes, with your pupils blown much darker than they had been at the start of the evening.

He says your name, the gentlest sound in the world, then a question. “What do you want?”

Minho half expects you to overthink your answer and come back to your senses, to choose flight because it would be the easier option.

But you don’t. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you lock onto him, and there’s something underneath the pool of lust in your gaze that leaves him breathless and wondering.

“You,” you say quietly, “I want you.”

And it’s with this simple answer that you pull him back to you again, not the other way around. You kiss him more fervently than before if that’s even possible. When he slides his arm around your waist, you let him pick you up to cross the few steps it takes to get to your bed, his lips never leaving you even after he has laid you onto the mattress. They follow the path where your jawline leads down to your neck, then where your neck meets your collarbone, and he savors every little whimper that you make for him even though he’s barely touched you yet. There’s hardly any patch of skin that he leaves unkissed, and when he reaches where your shirt begins to hide the rest of you from him, he only looks up at you, quietly asking for more permission.

You don’t give him a verbal answer. You take matters into your own hands, lifting your top over your head and flinging it somewhere on the floor.

Then your bra follows to join your shirt, wherever it may be. Minho assumes they’ve landed on the bottle of rosé, only guessing by the sound of the glass being knocked over and rolling around. He’s not sure but he doesn’t care about it enough to look, not when he’s got you right here under him, so beautiful and so willing that it makes his head spin.

He’s imagined this before, just a few times whenever he's drunk enough to let his mind wander without the guilt that comes with it when he’s sober. He has wondered before what it would feel like to kiss you breathless and have you kiss him back, to touch you in ways that no one else ever has, to taste how sweet you are and feel your warmth. None of it is appropriate, not at all platonic. He’s well aware of it.

It's been years, ever since Minho met you at that party when he was 19 and you had been too awkward to start a conversation. Years of walking with you in the rain after class, sharing umbrellas that are too small to shield the both of you but it’s okay, because he doesn’t mind leaving half of his body exposed to the harsh weather as long as the rain doesn’t get on you. Years of making sure you get home safely after nights out with your friends, years of insisting that he sees you walk inside your building and up to your floor whether it's 11PM or 4:30AM. Years of lingering glances, of pretending he isn’t bothered whenever Felix offers to introduce you to someone, of smiles sent your way that are far too endeared to mean nothing at all.

Years of loving you in silence because he’s your friend first and foremost, and his friendship with you means more to him than the feelings he has for you.

And yet...

He’s here in your bed, watching you with mesmerized eyes as you take off the rest of your clothes before helping him discard his, as you kiss him just as deeply as he’s wanted to kiss you for the longest time, as you keep pulling him into you even when he’s already as close to you as humanly possible. His lips on yours, his heart pressed against the other side of yours. His fingers intertwined with yours when he slips inside of you, and how your hands stay interlocked the entire time you’re wrapped together. You cling to him so tightly, as though it would hurt you if he were to ever let go.

It’s the way you look at him, like he’s the only person that exists in your universe. It’s the broken moans that you give him, the nonsense babbles that make his chest swell with pride at the knowledge that he’s making you feel so good that the only thing you know how to say coherently is his name. It’s the heaven between your thighs, absolutely divine and infinitely better than any fantasy that he could ever let himself indulge in.

Just for tonight, Minho can pretend that you're his, even though he knows that he’s already been yours since the first time you met. He’s been yours for as long as he can remember, even if you don’t know it yet.

Later on, when he’s collapsed next to you on the bed, there’s a safe distance between your tired bodies and a certain tension in the air that’s heavy with the consequences of your actions. When he takes your hand, the one that’s shaking as you grip the sheets between your fingers, it alleviates some of that anxiety.

“The fortune cookie, what did it say?” he asks, like you’re simply continuing the conversation from before.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Seriously?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Seriously.”

You purse your lips as you look at him for another second before you cast your eyes to the ceiling again, like you’d done just an hour ago. “It said ‘You’ll be loved.’”

You are, he thinks to himself. You’re loved.

“Open wide.”

You give him a look, to which he only responds with a shrug and a sly grin. 

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you say, but you take the spoonful of chicken soup that he offers you anyway. You can’t focus on the taste but it’s warm and the relief you feel is instant when it soothes your throat.

You’ve practically been on bedrest for the past three days, slowly rotting away in your apartment with a bad strain of the seasonal flu until Minho came over and unleashed his inner mama bear on you. Now here you are, wrapped up like a burrito on the couch (Minho insisted; he wouldn’t have it any other way) while he spoon feeds you homemade chicken soup.

You were stubborn about it at first, as one could probably imagine. When you told the group chat that you wouldn’t make it to movie night at Chan’s place last weekend, you were adamant that you would be able to sleep it off and bounce back in no time, despite Minho offering to make you some food and bring over some meds and cough drops.

The symptoms worsened overnight though, and you developed a fever along with a cough that’s worse than any you’ve ever experienced. When Minho called you to make sure you were still alive, you could barely even speak.

He hates your cavalier attitude when it comes to taking care of yourself. He hates himself even more for believing in your nonchalance and not bulldozing his way over sooner.

“I’m enjoying this because I was right,” he says, feeding you more of the soup. “I told you instant ramyeon wouldn’t cure you.”

He lets his I told you so triumph go easily, even though he suspects that you have much more to bite back at him if you could get through half a sentence without wanting to hack your lungs out. You make a noise, and he isn’t really sure if it’s one of agreement or protest but it’s most likely the latter. He thinks it’s cute that you close your eyes after every spoonful, lazily eating like one of his cats back home whenever they’ve run out of energy. You’re probably tired and can’t wait to get into bed.

When the soup is finished, Minho fetches you your meds and a glass of warm water. He doesn’t know if the scrunched up face you make after every pill is because you hate the bitter taste or if the tablets keep dragging against your already sensitive throat on their way down, but he strokes your hair all the while you wash it down with water, a gentle hand on your head as if to say You’re doing well.

He tucks you in bed not long after, despite your weak protests as he carries you to your bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you had managed to croak out. “I’m not that helpless.”

“I know,” came his response and a teasing smile. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

You’re pliant once you’re laid gently on the mattress though, idly watching Minho as he wraps the duvet around your shoulders and fluffs your pillows just the way you like. This is awfully domestic, he notes, and he can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to your forehead, not when he’s absolutely endeared by the way your tired eyes try to keep themselves open just so you could look at him.

When his lips leave your warm skin, he thinks he might’ve imagined the blush that colors your cheeks.

But he blinks, and you’re still flushed, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him, mild surprise evident in your drowsy gaze.

Something passes over the two of you, a kind of silence that he isn’t accustomed to when he’s with you. It isn’t bad, it’s just… strange.

One beat, then another. “Want me to stay with you?” he asks.

He knows you’d say no, and yet he can’t help the disappointment when you tell him, “You don’t have to. Go home, Min. Thanks for taking care of me today.”

“You sure? I can take the couch. It’s fine.”

“I’m sure. Chan and Jess said they’re coming to check on me in the morning.”

Minho lets out a hum, and purses his lips.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you look like you want to.”

“Just… y’know,” he starts, gauging your reaction all the while, for any signs of physical discomfort or otherwise, “I like you like this. You’re not hiding when you’re like this.”

“You like me frail and on the verge of death?”

He rolls his eyes, pretends to flick at your forehead. “You know what I mean.”

When you giggle, it’s immediately followed by a wince, like the movement is hurting your sensitive throat. “Do I hide when I’m with you?”

“Sometimes.” He moves his hand to caress your face, gentle fingertips tracing the apple of your cheek. Surprisingly, you let him, if only for a little while. “It feels like you’re always ready to leave.”

“Are you worried I’m gonna run away?” you ask, covering your hand over his to move it away, but you still let his touch linger when you only lower his hand to your neck, where he starts twiddling your hair between his fingers. It feels like you want him close, close enough that it matters, close in a way that still lets you have control over how it matters. “I physically can’t. I’m sick.”

“Does that mean you’ll run away when you get better?”

You seem to ponder the question for a moment. You’re holding onto his wrist and Minho is almost certain that you can feel his pulse. He would do so many things for you if only you’d let him.

When you answer him, you keep things light but your tone is soft, gentle in a way that tells him your sentiment means more than the words you cherry pick on the surface.

 “No, I have finals in two weeks.”

The first time that Minho gets to wake up next to you, nothing feels real. Not the pleasant scent of your shampoo greeting him the minute he opens his eyes, not your soft breath fanning his bare collarbone where you lay with your head tucked into the crook of his neck, not even the feeling of you in his arms, safe and warm, as though this is where you’re meant to be. None of it seems like anything other than a dream.

When memories of the previous night come rushing to the surface, it also brings back the annoyance he felt watching Yeonjun openly flirt with you at the party, and the bitter feeling that accompanied the reminder that Minho couldn’t even really do anything about it but stand idly by. 

But you stir in his arms, and all of the annoyance and bitterness goes away. Because you’re here with him and not anybody else. There’s a certain ego boost knowing that he’s the one you kiss, the only one you allow in your most personal space. To know you is a privilege, and it’s one that you grant no one else but him.

Last night, something happened. Something changed, he felt it when you were the one who asked him to stay. You let him put his shirt on you, let him hold you as you slept, even welcomed his embrace and snuggled further into his body in a way that you’ve never done before.

How you kissed him just hours prior, how you looked at him… God, he thinks he could just spill all of his secrets if you did it again.

But when you open your eyes, Minho is already pretending to be asleep again. How would you react? He’s curious to know. Would you scramble away the second the realization kicks in that you let him break your rule? Would you leave his side and act all nonchalant about it when you inevitably have to face each other later? He’s willing to bet that you would.

But you surprise him again. He feels you watching him for a moment, then your touch ghosts upon his features. It almost makes him falter in his act, your gentle fingers tracing his temple, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose down to his lips. There’s a sigh that you exhale, and he misses your touch the very second it leaves his skin. He itches to bring you closer to him again.

So that’s what he does. Minho keeps the facade going, pretending like he’s now just waking up with his limbs stretching out. You stiffen when he hugs you tighter, but you soon relax after he starts stroking your hair. 

Nothing has changed for him, but can you say the same?

“Dude!”

Minho flinches into action when a voice calls his name right by the car window, loud enough to startle him even through the thick layer of glass. When he turns his head, he finds Changbin’s face all pressed up against the window, struggling to hold three bags full of supplies that are threatening to spill out. “Help me with these!” his friend says.

It’s the week of Jisung, Felix and Seungmin’s birthdays; you lot tends to go all out for the quadruple birthday bash every year (Chan’s birthday is only 11 days later after all). Seungmin’s family has a lakeside cabin a couple hours from the city, that’s where everyone goes to unwind for a long weekend with plenty of food and even more drinks. This year, it’s no different.

Minho and Changbin are on drinks duty, tasked with picking up all of the alcohol and refreshments for the weekend ahead. He doesn’t really know what the rest are doing, just that you and Jeongin are babysitting Hyunjin to make sure the latter doesn’t deviate from the proposed budget and go way overboard when getting snacks and decorations. You sent Minho a text a while ago, a video of you facepalming and rolling your eyes before you flip the camera over to show Hyunjin and Jeongin bickering like children over a mega pack of chips.

Once everything is in the car – cases of beer safely loaded into the trunk, bottles of water and soft drinks set in their designated plastic bags in the backseat, Changbin comments from the driver’s seat, “You looked weird. You were smiling.”

Minho only stares at him for a moment, a neutral expression on his face as he blinks those typical Minho blinks, before he turns his head to the other side to lean against the window.

He was thinking about the first time your tradition started, the first year Jess had to drag you on the trip. She used to do it often; you were shy in the beginning.

He’s got a favorite memory of you, and it wasn’t you and him sitting together on the bank of the river during the sunset, while the others were in the water, splashing around and having the time of your lives (you two were the only ones who couldn’t swim, but it was okay, you didn’t feel like you missed out on anything because at least you had each other).

His favorite memory of you wasn’t running into you in the middle of the night when he went into the kitchen for some water and you were out by yourself on the adjacent balcony, sitting with your chin resting on your folded knees and the crescent moon for company. He stayed there for a moment, dazed, wondering if he was still dreaming or if it was just you. When Minho finally made his presence known, you told him you couldn’t sleep and he suggested that you break into Hyunjin’s secret ramyeon stash, because going to bed with a full stomach always made him feel better whenever he was restless. 1:58AM, you ended up almost burning your hand on the stove, too busy trying to keep your giggles down when he made a stupid joke.

Minho’s favorite memory wasn’t of you falling asleep on his shoulder on the drive back either, with you squished in the backseat between him and Felix, and your light snores reminded him of Soonie whenever the cat would doze off on his chest. It wasn’t any of these moments, even though he thinks he might’ve loved you in every instance.

His favorite memory of you was the evening before that trip had to come to an end, the last night you all spent together before you had to leave your safe little bubble. It was after dinner and some drinks, everyone was buzzed and the air was crisp, chilly every now and then. When you were gathered on the dock overlooking the lake, each holding a sparkler that Jisung had prepared, you were laughing. Everyone else was laughing too, but yours was the only sound Minho could focus on.

“Be quiet. I’m gonna take a nap,” he tells Changbin, ignoring the comment entirely as he closes his eyes. “Wake me when we get to Chan’s.”

The lights, and your friends, and the moon hanging high up in the sky like a guardian angel back then.

You were watching how it all reflected so beautifully in the rippling waters below. He was watching you.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

His question hangs in the awful silence as you stare at him. Minho can see your nails digging into your palms where your fists are clenched, your glassy eyes and the frown between your brows, like you’re trying your hardest to hold back tears. Why else would you be so upset?

He’s known about it for a while, or at the very least, he’s had an inkling of how you feel about him. He knows he isn’t in over his head when he says there’s a certain glow that radiates from within you when you’re together, a side of you that’s tender and at peace, one that he’s never seen you show anyone else. The way you look at him, it’s the same way that he looks at you even if you don’t realize it yet, or maybe you just don’t want to admit it out loud.

It hasn’t been one sided for at least some time now, he knows it.

But it’s frustrating to watch you try so hard to fight it. He’s the only one holding on, and you’ve been willing to let go at every turn.

“See what?” you challenge.

This isn’t how he planned to ever say these words, but the moment is here whether he likes it or not. It’s staring at you both in the face even if you are doing your best to hide from it.

Minho holds your gaze for a few seconds before he steps toward you again. This time, you stand your ground.

“You asked me if things changed for me and I said no. That was the truth, I never lied to you. We’re friends but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you as something more from the beginning.”

He pauses there, watches your eyes and how you take it in. They soften a little, filling up some more as you process his words. There’s surprise in the look that you wear, sure. A little confusion, yes. But most of all, you just look sad. When you call out his name, he can tell by your tone that it’s a warning, that you’re about to run away for real this time if he presses on, and yet he can’t stop until he says his piece.

“If you want me to spell it out for you, I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t remember what it feels like not to love you, and it drives me crazy that you don’t see any of it. The thing that makes me even crazier, do you know what it is? I think you feel something for me too, but you won’t admit it to yourself and you always resort to shutting down instead of facing your feelings. How much longer are you going to run away from me?”

When the first tear unintentionally spills over from the corner of your eye, Minho knows he’s struck a nerve. He wants to reach out and wipe away the tiny stream that rolls down your face but you beat him to it, wiping at your cheek in angry motions.

“You’re wrong.” Your voice is tight when you tell him, “I don’t have feelings for you.” It’s the only thing that you address.

Sometimes, he searches for your answer at the bottom of a glass, or on the other end of looks that seem to linger just a beat too long. But as he’s standing here, right now, he finds it in your hesitation to speak, in the lie you give him when you finally do.

It’s the answer he’s always wanted and yet, the knowledge brings him no satisfaction at all. It only lodges a lump in his throat, an overwhelming sense of dejection when he sees how hard you’re trying to fight this.

“I know you,” he sighs after a moment, a little defeated. “I know when you’re lying.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well after all.”

You’re stubborn. You’ve always been stubborn.

Minho takes another step forward. It feels like it’s a step closer to the end as you both know it, because how else is your relationship going to come back from this? He sees the slight shake in your shoulders that you try to suppress, but he’ll always be the one to notice. 

“Tell me you don’t love me,” he says quietly, his final resort. A challenge but it sounds an awful lot like a plea. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that things can take a turn for the worse in just two weeks’ time. The last time you both were here, you’d kissed his endeared smile and held him so impossibly close to you. Now, everything is falling apart, the seams coming undone one by one. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

Minho meant what he said, about how loving you drives him crazy sometimes. Even when you’re breaking his heart, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. A noticeable sting settles in between the cracks of his ribcage at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, your balled up fists and his own reflection in your glassy eyes.

“Do you want me to say it so badly?” you ask, and he can only stare at you when your voice comes out harsher than it was before, though it cracks toward the end as you try to keep up with the facade. “Fine, I’ll say it.”

It’s not what he asked, but it’s confirmation nonetheless. It’s acceptance but not how he wants it to be. Acceptance that you do love him, and yet, you say it in a way that he’s never expected to hear from you.

“I don’t want to love you.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 28.08.2024]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Know Your Place 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall, destroyer!Chris [for the purposes of this AU, I will give him the last name Jackson] (Professor AU)

Summary: after a life time of home schooling, you finally get to experience the real world in college. (petite reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The grocery store is nice. It’s not very big or crowded either. You expected one of those manic superstores you saw on TV. Instead, shoppers mill around in a mellow din and investigate apples or jars of jam. 

You take out your list as you step out of the way of another customer. As you unfold it, Walter stands nearby. He looks around the store, his chin high, and heat speckles across your neck. You look up at him and give a sheepish smile. 

“You don’t have to stick around. You just need coffee, right?” 

“I’m in no hurry,” he assures you and peeks down at the paper in your hand, “so, what’s on the list? What are we looking for?” 

“You really don’t have to,” you insist. “I’m sure I can figure this all out.” 

“I’m sure you can,” he says and takes a basket from the stack near the door. “But I’m offering because I want to.” 

“Hm, okay. Bet it would be faster...” you mutter. “Okay, er, zucchini.” 

“Zucchini,” he nods. “Well, look at me talking a big game and you stumped me. I don’t think I’ve ever bought any.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” 

“No problem, it’s gotta be with the... squash,” he points and gently nudges you ahead of him. “Right there.” 

He walks with you down the aisle and you squeeze by a cart as he trails behind you. You stop before the green vegetables and take a bag. Walter nears and offers up the basket. You bag up the zucchini and set it carefully inside. 

“Alright, and eggs... flour...” you look down the list. 

“Making a cake?” He wonders as he turns down the next row of produce. 

“Muffins. I thought... every day I could have one for breakfast. Like my mom makes. And I could freeze the extras for next week.” You explain, “and lunches, just a loaf of bread and tuna.” 

“Wow, seems like you’ve got everything planned out,” he muses. 

“I thought I did but I couldn’t even find the grocery store,” you laugh nervously. 

“Don’t be rough on yourself. You’re new. You’ll get around,” he assures. “Hey, be right back, gonna go grab my beans.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Dairy’s down there,” he points before he hurries off. 

“Thanks,” you utter after him. 

You grab a carton of eggs and peer around at the aisles, squinting up at the signs for each aisle. You see him down one as you search for the flour. It’s in the same row as the coffee. As you come down it, he tucks away his cell phone. 

He approaches as you look at the bags of flour. You grab a small one. Light enough to carry back to your dorm. 

“Here,” he takes the eggs and puts them in the basket. As you put the flour in after them, you sense his size again. The way he looms reminds you of how small you feel and really are. “So, besides getting lost, how’s school going?” 

“Good, I think. Yeah. I like most of my classes,” you say. 

“But...” 

“But?” You check your list again and find a tin of baking soda. 

“You don’t sound entirely pleased.” 

“I don’t?” You look at him. “Well, I guess I miss my mom. A little.” 

“That’s normal. And it just means you love her.” He insists. 

“I do,” you agree. 

“What about friends?” He prompts. 

“None, so far,” you shrug. “But I guess it takes time.” 

“No one you know from home going here?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “home schooled.” 

“Home schooled,” he hums, “wow.” 

“I know, it’s weird.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“That’s what the guy in my history class said. It’s okay. It’s different. I think it’s weird to go to a school school. Sounds scary,” you say. 

“Well, you are,” he chuckles. “You’re in college. That means you’re pretty smart, home school or not.” 

“Maybe,” you agree dully and check your list. 

“Marshall?” A deep timbre undercuts the next item written down, “figures I run into you.” A man appears at Walter’s other side. “Getting that piss you call coffee.” 

“Chris,” Walter greets flatly. 

“Don’t act so happy to see me,” the man retorts. “How’s classes? You suspend anyone yet? I know it’s the first day but I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Haha,” Walter drones sarcastically. 

The man puts his hand on the shelve and as he leans, his eyes fall on you. He’s a tiny bit shorter than Walter but still taller than you. And his dark hair is slightly fluffy and a thick beard darkens his square jaw. His irises are bright and blue. 

“Oops, I’m interrupting,” he says. 

“Doing some shopping,” Walter answers. 

“Don’t tell me you’re in one of his classes. Good luck.” The other man chirps. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Walter girds. 

“Him? Chris,” the man reaches across Walter’s front and offers his hand. “And you... TA?” 

“Mauve,” you shake his hand gently as his covers yours completely. His grip is strong and firm. “Um, we’re... I...” you hesitate as you try to come up with some sort of explanation. “We just met but Walter’s been so helpful. I’m new here so I don’t my way around yet.” 

“Walter being helpful? And who wouldn’t be for you, Mauve?” The man grins. 

“Chris,” Walter growls and angles away from him, “what else is on your list?” 

“Erm, bread,” you flick it nervously with your thumb, the other man peer around Walter at you. 

“Nice to see you, then, Marshall,” he says. 

“Mm, you too,” Walter doesn’t look back as he marches past you.  

You smile at Chris and give a tiny wave before you follow the larger man back down the aisle. You catch up to him as the list crinkles in your hand, “is that a friend?” You ask. 

“Kinda,” he shrugs. “He’s in Psych too. Sometimes we teach 304 together.” 

“Oh. Cool. Must be nice to get to work with others like that,” you say. “He seems nice.” 

“Nice? Chris?” He echoes. “Can be, I guess.” 

“Oh, okay,” you accept. 

“Mauve, you’re a nice girl. You think everyone is nice. Just like that guy in the Student Centre, right?” He says. 

“Well, he wasn’t mean.” 

“No, because he was trying to trick you,” he turns down another aisle and stops by the small cans of fish. “I’m not trying to scare you, I’m just looking out for you. Guys like the one who sat at your table, they aren’t nice. Colleges aren’t full of nice guys.” 

Your lips fall straight and you nod. You pick out a can of tuna as you try to hide your anxiety. You know he’s right. At the orientation, they told you how to call Campus Police and about those buttons on the polls that set off the sirens to signal help. And you’ve seen the news stories. Your mom couldn’t stop watching them before you left. 

“My mom told me the same,” you say. 

“She’s a smart woman. You wanna stay safe for her, right? She must be very worried to have you so far away, huh?” He drawls. You nod. “So, how about I keep an eye on you? Just so you can call and tell her everything’s good.” 

“I think... yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree. “Walter...” 

“Yes?” He raises the basket for you to put the cans of tuna inside. 

“Are we friends now?” 

You peek up at him and you’re surprised to see his lips curve, just a little, “sure.” 

[kurishiri]

william v.s. darius . . . william rex END 🌹

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit suggestive at the end.

(I——)

Kate: Will, I have faith in your hunch, and I want to support you, so I’ll go with you.

Upon hearing my answer, Will smiled in satisfaction.

Darius: Indeed, I also think the number one member of Crown would be bound to choose the correct path.

D: I’ll leave the rest to you guys then. I’ve had more than enough fun here in town and at the festival.

D: But before I go, would you be so kind as to tell me this one last thing, William?

Will responded with a questioning look, to which Darius’ smile deepened.

Darius: In Crown — and all the Cursed ones at that — you are among the top of the top.

D: I’m sure if the mood struck you, you could have the whole world kneel before you with your ability alone,

D: and you could destroy the root of evil as well, yes?

D: Yet, here you are now, serving Her Majesty and working for Crown.

D: On top of that, I’m sure like today, these evils will come round again and again, no matter if you crush it to pieces.

D: My mind just can’t seem to wrap around it.

D: I mean, just now, when we were chasing and closing in on that child, with one command you could easily——

William: Then I would be left on the short end.

Darius: ...And what does that mean?

William: It’s exactly as you say: I could easily make everyone kneel before me with a single command.

W: But, I believe not doing so——

Will turned to me, and I nodded in return.

Kate: Will holds a deep love for people’s freedoms.

K: One is their own master. Other people should not trample on that... that is what Will thinks.

Darius: ...Such is the wish of the ‘Self-Righteous Monarch’ then.

D: I feel I’m coming to understand what you mean when you say ‘unraveling a mystery’ now. ——Nonetheless, I had lots of fun today.

He left us a smile that resembled that of an angel, before heading off.

While running down the alley Will had chosen, I spotted some movement from a place hidden from view.

Kate: ...Seems like that child.

He was ravenously stuffing his cheeks there, and I approached him with Will.

Slightly dirty boy: ! It’s you guys... dammit! You just don’t give up, do you? What’s it to you guys anyway!

The boy we had been chasing wiped the fruit juice that stained his mouth with his sleeve as he bristled at us.

Kate: We’re sorry if we have the wrong person but, do you have my things with you?

Slightly dirty boy: ...I got no idea what you’re saying.

As though hiding the bulge in his pockets, the boy crouched, feigning ignorance——

William: We have no intention to complain about what you did in and of itself.

W: But, I do have one thing I want to ask you.

W: ——Why do you yourself want those things?

Slightly dirty boy: Urgh...

The boy’s back jolted with a start, seemingly shaken.

William: Would you tell us how you really feel? Do you truly wish to continue living like this?

Will’s voice was quiet, and in response, the boy raised his head.

Just moments before, his gaze had a sharp edge to it, but now he was pursing his lips, which started to tremble, and——

Tears started to fall.

Slightly dirty boy: ...hic, what... what other choice do I got though... hic, this is... just my job...

Slightly dirty boy: And yet... the guys who paid me, hic, they... they’re all gone...

Slightly dirty boy: And since then I was alone... [sniffle] I ate alone... and... I had no other choice but to do this... just to live... [sniffle]

William: So that is to say you don’t want to continue doing this?

Slightly dirty boy: Isn’t... isn’t that obvious... hic, doing these kinds of things... I don’t enjoy doing them at all...

Slightly dirty boy: ...but... if I don’t... I might starve to death... so...

William: If your heart wishes to free yourself of this situation,

He extended his hand.

William: then you can take my hand.

Slightly dirty boy: ...Huh?

The boy’s eyes, wet from tears, stared straight at Will, as though trying to find if he was telling the truth...

Slightly dirty boy: .........is it okay if I... believe... you...?

William: That’s up to you to decide as well.

—— Time skip; evening city ——

William: If you take this carriage, I imagine you will be able to find the help to set your heart free.

W: Of course, whether you ride it is also up to what your heart says.

Slightly dirty boy: ...Then, could I study?

William: Of course, if you don’t tire of it first.

Slightly dirty boy: Yippee! There are so many things I want to learn about! ——ah.

I looked on with a smile when the boy’s sparkling eyes met with mine.

Slightly dirty boy: ...And I’m sorry, miss. Here, I’ll give this back.

With an awkward look, he took my things from his pocket.

Kate: Thank you. They’re really important to me.

His expression seemed to brighten as he went in the carriage, and he continued waving back at us from within until he couldn’t see us anymore.

(I hope that boy’s future is just as bright... just like the skies today.)

Kate: It takes courage to accept what the voice in your heart says. But that boy managed to do so.

K: And it was thanks to you, Will.

When I looked next to me, Will looked back, his eyes dazzling.

William: I simply wanted to witness the moment he sets his heart free.

W: But it’s at these times that I always remember — the day I first caught a glimpse of your heart’s voice, that is.

Kate: ...And I as well. I remember the time you brought it out of me.

William: Hehe, so? What are the things my robin has safely gotten back?

Kate: Ah, this is... it caught my eye from a shop. I was thinking it looked like your eyes.

I took out a brooch, decorated with crimson red jewels, and put it on Will.

William: I’m happy to hear. I did have an inkling that it was a present for me though.

Kate: Hm? It could have also been for Darius too, you know?

William: I know that such would not be the case.

W: After all, you’ve only been looking at me, right? ——To the point I’m unable to question my own vanity.

W: I know exactly how you feel.

Kate: ...Is that because you’ve been looking at me, Will?

In lieu of an answer, his red eyes narrowed.

William: The truth is, I have also prepared a present for you. I believe I mentioned it before we left.

W: That ‘it is a reward for a very clever and discerning little robin.’

Kate: Huh? Wait... that wasn’t you sharing the details of...

William: That may be so, but there is something I want to give you, and only you. Before that, though...

The moment his hands made their way around my back, he whisked me away.

When we were in an alley where not many people were around, my eyes met with Will’s, my back on the wall.

William: I do always lend an ear to your desires, but... what would you like to do, right now?

Seeing him smile so up close was so captivating, it took my breath away.

The blood red eyes that peered into me gave off a bewitching light.

And, tempted by that, my heart was dragged out in an instant.

Kate: I... want to kiss you.

Those blood red eyes narrowed even more as they stopped at my lips, before he slowly came closer.

Kate: ngh... haa...

He took his time exploring my mouth, and I could no longer think of anything or anyone but Will.

When we parted, I swallowed my saliva, wanting to hold onto any traces of the sensation his tongue left behind.

Kate: ...I... I want more of you.

K: Not just your heart, but your body too.

William: Hehe, your selfish desires are a reward for me as well.

W: Let’s take our time to enjoy what comes after the festival, just the two of us.

to be continued…

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

← prev epilogue →

full masterlist 🌹🪽

[jeonqkooks]

yoongi + 40 (fluff) + 49 (smut) (ONCE AGAIN CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE AND HAPPY ALMOST BLOGIVERSARY LOVE 🫶)

personal space | myg (m.)

pairing: yoongi x f!reader prompts: "are you blushing?" + "shut up and pin me down." rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre/warnings: fwb au, brother’s best friend au - jimin's the bro, a lil fluff, a lil angst, definitely smut; the only warning i could think of for the smut is fingering lol it's pretty mild, unedited bc that's how we do <3, smut right under the cut word count: 1.2k note: hi nary !! thank yuuuuuuu for the request heheheh i know i'm SO SO LATE to this one but better late than never right :D this yoongi has been on my mind since last august but i'm so glad to release him into the world. hope you like this lil piece <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"Did you miss me?" Yoongi pushes your panties aside, his slender fingers stroking your bare core as a cocky grin graces his face. Your arousal practically drips down his fingers. "Oh, you did miss me."

When you decided to come to his welcome home party tonight, you hadn't counted on this happening, though part of you was secretly hoping for it. It’s not necessarily a bad idea to be in such close proximity with Min Yoongi again, just a dangerous one.

Old habits die hard, you suppose.

"Shut up," you groan when the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, dipping into your heat but only allowing the digit to sink up to the first knuckle before he pulls out. The fucker, always such a tease. "Shut up and pin me down."

"When did you get so bossy?" he tuts, but he complies anyway. Yoongi carries you to the bed with your legs around his waist while his palms busy themselves with your ass, kneading your skin like it's the first time he's touching you. He doesn't throw you on the mattress roughly like you expect, but instead, he lays you down gently, like you're porcelain and he's got slippery hands. When he hovers above you, the guitar pick of his necklace dangles to rest on your bra-clad chest, and the coolness of the metal makes you shiver. It stings a bit, you have to admit.

"Since you left," you say, like it's all so casual. In a way, it is. That's how it used to be between the two of you - hiding another layer of honesty in the truths you exchange and knowing full well that the other person understands it. A secret language that only you and Yoongi speak, like hiding in plain sight. Although, that was the one part you were never particularly fond of - the hiding - but you knew it had to be this way. Jimin would've killed you both if he ever found out one of his best friends was railing his sister on the DL. "You subjected me to a lifetime of mediocre sex with mediocre men."

"It wasn't a lifetime," Yoongi disagrees, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's pleased with what you're insinuating. That he was the best. He was the only one who knew how to make you feel good. The man nudges his nose against yours, prying your thighs open as his hand settles on the warmth between your legs again. "It was three years."

"Which was a long time."

He kisses you then, and it makes your head spin from how soft it all feels. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like Jimin isn’t completely shit-faced in the next room, like kissing you is everything that he’s been thinking about for the past years, and now he finally has the chance to do it again.

After a moment, he breaks away to drag his mouth along your jawline to your ear, whispering things that the old Yoongi never would.

He plunges two digits inside you without any warning, but it doesn't take your breath away nearly as much as his words do. "I missed you," he says. "Missed you a lot. There were days, maybe even weeks, where I think I did nothing but miss you."

Your cheeks burn easily until they turn a shade that could compete with the rose bushes in your back garden. You grab fistfuls of Yoongi's t-shirt as his fingers fuck you slowly.

"Are you blushing?" he chuckles. "I'm knuckles deep inside of you and you're blushing?"

"Shut up," you repeat, because he didn't seem to listen the first time. "Don't say shit like that if you can't see it through."

"Who says I won't see it through?" he asks. His beautiful fingers that you've missed don't ease up for even a second, scissoring you open and forcing a whiny moan out of you, despite the sudden somberness of the moment. You clench around him when his thumb meets your clit, making you impossibly wetter.

"You never did."

"Neither did you, sweetheart."

"Because I'm a coward." You buck your hips to meet his hand as it thrusts into you, delicate fingertips brushing your g-spot on every stroke. "But you're not a coward, are you, Yoongi?"

It's strange how you're close to coming even though the conversation is making you sad, but that's Min Yoongi for you. He's got you wrapped around his finger - figuratively speaking, but of course, you suppose it takes on a literal meaning this very second - ever since day one.

It started out as just sex. It was supposed to be just sex.

He was supposed to just be one of Park Jimin's goofy friends.

You were supposed to just be Park Jimin's sister.

You were, until you became someone that Yoongi could love. Someone he did love.

And he still does, there's no doubt about that.

He stays quiet just long enough to make you come undone. His thumb rubs your clit expertly, just the way you like, as if you two never spent any time apart. You give him a broken moan, and he gives you a wave of bliss that washes over your body and swallows you entirely when he curls his fingers, fucking you with determination as you gush into his hand. Your legs start to close but Yoongi props them open, prolonging your high until you're shaking from the sensitivity.

"Yoongi..." you whimper, and only then does he pull his fingers out, soaked in your essence, only to shove them into his mouth. You watch as he hums in delight, eyes falling shut like he's trying to savor the taste. You say his name again, softer this time.

Yoongi looks at you then, propping his forearms on either side of your head to hold himself up. He rests his hips on yours, and you feel him even through his jeans, hard and pressed against your bare thigh.

"I was a coward," he admits. "But I'd like to think I'm not one anymore."

Then you both just stare at each other for what feels like hours but in reality, it's probably mere minutes. You want to believe him, you really do, but there are too many things that you don't know if you should risk. It takes a leap, but unfortunately, you're scared of heights.

You pull on his shirt, silently telling him you want it off. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I'm finally talking about it and you don't want to listen?" he chuckles but takes off the tee anyway, tugging it over his head and throwing it somewhere across the room.

"I do, just not right now. Now I only want you."

"You've got me."

"Not like that."

"Yes," he says. "Yes, like that."

You give Yoongi a look that makes him sigh. You just want to have him, without thinking of any of the things that make you feel like it's impossible to truly have him. Just one night, that's all you're asking for.

He touches your face, tracing your cheekbone, trailing down to caress your jawline. "I'll see it through," he tells you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, urging him closer until your lips brush. You give him a chaste kiss, letting your eyes flutter closed momentarily before you whisper, "Tomorrow."

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.06.23]

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

How would the male companions go about helping/comforting a tav who’s “monthly visitor” came to town during their journey??

A/N: The timing of this ask is impeccable because guess what I just got? Lol. But seriously I would be mad as hell in the 5 or 6 days I’m supposed to stop my mind flayer parasite AND save the universe I ALSO had to deal with cramping and bleeding. Nu-uh. Nope. Sign me the fuck out. Goodbye cruel world, I would be DONE. 

TW: Mentions of Menstruation; Blood 

Tried to keep this Tav as Gender Neutral as possible so that it could apply to anyone who menstruates.  <3 

Please Like & Reblog! 

Male BG3 Companions Helping Tav w/ Their Period

⭐ Astarion: 

He probably notices it before Tav does

Of course, he offers to help “clean up” ;) (this may or may not get him a kick in the balls)

No, but seriously, if he and Tav are in a relationship, he’d have no qualms going down there himself every so often to “alleviate” some symptoms. That is, of course, if Tav would go for that kind of thing. Astarion won’t keep pushing it if Tav says “no”. He respects the hard boundaries Tav gives him. 

Of course, he teases Tav a bit. Not horribly, and it’s all in good fun. But enough to let Tav know that this matter doesn’t disgust or upset him in the slightest. It’s blood for devil's sake! What creature would be better prepared to handle it than him?

If any of Tav’s clothes end up stained or they end up bleeding through them, Astarion has just the thing to take the stains out. Turns out, knowing how to get blood out of most fabrics is quite beneficial knowledge in the vampire community. Plus he has an instinct for knowing where the best tailors and seamstresses in Baldur’s Gate are. Should Tav need an emergency change of clothes, he knows just the place! 

Then again, Astarion himself has no problem with the blood stains. After all, they’re traveling around killing monsters for gods sake! If anyone has a nasty comment about how much blood either he or Tav is drenched in, they better be damn quick on their feet. His arrows can shoot pretty far. ;P

As far as cramps or pain goes, if his previous, ahem, suggestion was shot down, he’ll make sure Tav takes a moment here and there to rest. He might even bother Gale, demanding some sort of heat pack. Scratch that. He’s most definitely harassing Gale for some sort of heating pack spell. 

If Gale refuses, he might even try and figure out how to fix one himself. Granted fire and vampires aren't the best of friends, but Tav is the only one in the last two-hundred-plus years to see him as a person. A little scorching here and there means nothing if Astarion can let Tav know how much he values them. 

🔮 Gale: 

He’s clueless, okay? Tav would have to outright tell him. I mean yes, he was raised by a single mom, but she didn’t exactly share the details of this stuff with him. And it never came up all the years he was with Mystra because goddesses don’t exactly reproduce the way other Faerun humanoids do! Please forgive him, he really does want to learn.

He immediately offers to find a spell or potion to either pause or skip this one altogether. He gets that Tav may want to opt out of dealing with it for the time being, seeing as the two of them have much more pressing matters to attend to. 

He’ll cast it himself if Tav wishes. Or he’ll find another trustworthy wizard to recommend. Although he does prefer to do it himself, he understands Tav might be uncomfortable with the thought of their new partner doing such a thing for them. His entire life has been spent studying magic, so of course he immediately thinks to use that to remedy any problem Tav has. 

Nevertheless, should Tav choose to deal with it in the old-fashioned non-magical way, he’s perfectly accepting of that as well. He’ll enquire about which local herbs are suitable for such applications, possibly even soliciting the help of an herbalist or surgeon. 

Gale wants to give Tav as many options for comfort as possible. If Tav’s concern is about heavy bleeding, he looks for answers on natural remedies to lighten the flow. Or he may even speak with a midwife about the best clothes and absorbent materials to use in the coming days.  

As awkward as he can be in social situations, he’s oddly great in this endeavor. He treats it the way he would a Weave experiment- with an open mind and curiosity. At the end of the day what matters is Tav knows how much Gale admires and respects them. And that he doesn’t think of them any less for having this bodily function. If anything, he admires Tav more for being so forthcoming. It’s an ask that actually strengthens his and Tav’s relationship. 

🗡 Wyll: 

Wyll probably shies away from it the most. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help Tav in any way he can, it’s just that he’s a gentleman, and to his knowledge, speaking of certain subjects with the one you like, isn’t something a well-behaved gentleman would do. That being said, a true gentleman is always prepared to put away their discomfort in order to aid their friends, so that’s exactly what he does. 

He enlists the help of Shadowheart almost immediately. He knows realistically, there are others he could ask (midwives, doctors, healers), but Shadowheart is an ally and a Cleric to boot. So her skills as well as her knowledge may very well come in handy. 

He’ll go along with whatever Tav decides, but he, like Gale, recommends Tav either suspend or skip this round. He thinks it wise to have all their wits about them for the battles ahead. With demons like Mizora and Raphael running about, none of them can afford to get distracted. Again, if Tav chooses to push through it, he’ll be kind and supportive, and request Shadowheart’s healing in subduing some of the more troublesome symptoms. But deep down, he’s happier should Tav decide to use magic or spells to resolve the issue for the time being. 

And then, Wyll goes all out in preparation for the next one. Once their fight is won, he can turn his attention back to his family- his Father, and of course, Tav. He makes sure his family home has a room for them, customized in many ways to Tav’s liking. Wyll has their favorite color blanket, a soft pillow, their favorite flavor tea in an enchanted flask to keep it just the perfect temperature… the list goes on and on. 

He loves Tav so much. He just wants them to be comfortable, and to feel safe to express whatever feelings they have. After all, Tav is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

🌱 Halsin: 

The nice thing about him being ‘one with nature’ is that he has no unease regarding the subject. He is an archdruid, and some three-hundred years old at that- believe me, there’s very little Tav’s body could throw at him that he’s not ready to receive. 

Out of all the companions, Halsin is the one most likely to not immediately suggest using magical means to pause or skip it. Instead, he has more natural aids at the ready- herbs, teas, heat packs, massages, and well, yes, even that. ;)

The difference between Halsin suggesting it and Astarion suggesting it, however, is that Halsin’s motivations are more focused on what he can do for Tav and their body; they’re not based on the idea of mutual satisfaction. Halsin has had countless lovers and years to understand pleasure. He knows you take turns giving, and he’s well very versed in that. 

Or if Tav isn't up for that, he'll offer to shift into a cat and rest on their abdomen, using his body heat to lessen Tav’s cramps. 

He’s also the most ‘normal’ when it comes to continuing their journey. He won’t make a habit of fussing over Tav unless they specifically request him to do so. Periods, however annoying and painful, are a part of life, of nature. Halsin believes it best to learn how to accept nature, and live in harmony with it, rather than try and prevent it. 

If Tav does want to explore other means of stopping this particular cycle, however, Halsin will help them any way he can, even if he doesn’t think it very wise to mess with the flow of nature like that. As a druid healer himself, he knows a few things or too about reproductive spells. He can make it so the symptoms lessen, or temporarily subside until their perilous journey has come to a close. 

Halsin may not want to settle for a single lover, but out of all of them, Tav seems to shine the brightest. He would do anything within his power to aid them. 

Bonus! 💪 Minsc (and 🐹 Boo!): 

He offers to fight it lol. Just straight up. 

“What is this thing causing you stress? Tell Minsc where it is so he can destroy it for you!” 

Boo basically has to be the one in charge of the situation, but then again, what’s new? 

Boo finds the supplies Tav might need, and directs Minsc to them. Boo also directs Minsc towards either Shadowheart or Halsin, because they’re better suited for dealing with these sorts of things. 

Once Minsc understands what Tav meant, he apologizes with a bouquet of wildflowers he picked. 

And by ‘picked’ I mean mostly smooshed before ripping their roots out of the ground.  

He's really trying okay, give the man some credit.

And give Boo treats to thank him for his service.

[kairiscorner]

it may be sudden of me, but i've had an idea i've forgotten to bring to light in the server or to anyone else

miguel 'n reader are engaged, and we catch the man sorrowful and doubtful of *himself* because he thinks he won't do a good job. we let him ramble on and on until we have to shut him up with a kiss ^^

just thought it'd be really sweet, esp if we comfort and reassure him after his rambling

don't do a friends first kinda deal, do reqs that you like that came before mine first if you have a lot! and dw about doing mine at all 💃

(if you do tysm)

YURI MY BOOOOOO omg i'm SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET TO YOU 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE THIS IDEA AKDNDJDLKDKDKD i wanna do this justice. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AAAAAA

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i just want us to be okay. — miguel o'hara x reader

you didn't need to think twice when he asked you if you'd marry him, you'd've been a fool to have lied to him about how you felt; but you ended up an even bigger, more lovesick fool than ever when you kept repeating to yourself this: i'm getting married to the man of my dreams. you would never forget the way his eyes watered up, how his smile seemed to brighten the whole place up just a little bit in your eyes when you said yes, the saccharine laughter that rang in your ears as he kept asking you in a bewildered, awestruck voice if you really meant to say 'yes' to being his spouse, his spouse.

and up to this day, he can't stop asking you if you mean it; he is that smitten and enamored with you, he can't believe that personified perfection agreed to share their life with him.

however, it's due to that disbelief, that urge he has to think that nothing good in his life will last—that your love is merely temporary, that the universe will one day inevitably rip you away from him like nearly everyone he ever truly cared for in his life—that this affectionate him right now won't be around forever. he's scared that if he makes one wrong move, says one wrong thing, takes one look at the wrong direction—he'll lose you forever. and in a way... he feels like he deserves it, that he deserves to lose you.

he's been holed up in his office, brooding in the dark and thinking to himself in silence as the images and videos on his monitors play by without him looking up to acknowledge what's happening on the screens. he whispers to lyla to play footage of the two of you dancing at your friend's wedding, specifically to the timestamp when you two had your first dance as a couple at the reception hall's dance floor. he heard your voice and laughter, as sonorous and melodic as it was the evening he held you in his arms. it certainly wasn't the first time he held you, but it was the first time he held you with a great feeling in his chest, one that couldn't be labelled nor replicated by any other feeling in the world—it was the first time he held you knowing that his life and yours were going to be one, you two are each other's, like your friend, you two would have your happily ever after one day.

he smiled to himself, much like how he smiled on the video; and he repeated the same words he uttered that night when you chuckled to yourself nervously. "i feel so... weird and nervous having all these eyes on me. is it obvious?" "oh, very." he teased you, mouthing the words out with a wide grin as he watched the footage back with a smile, chuckling as he heard you laugh at his smart ass quips and sarcastic remarks. he missed how sweet your laugh was, how adorable you got when you pretended to be angry at his little comments. "this isn't even our wedding, but, gosh... i can't imagine how it'd be like if it was ours, it's so... so intimidating..." you muttered to him as you held his hand and shoulder tighter, with your feet nearly stumbling and wobbling out of sheer embarrassment.

miguel smiled wider as he watched himself sigh and place his hands underneath your chin, turning your head to make you look at him. "cariño, you're perfect as you are already. even if you're... a nervous mess, i'm falling deeper in love with you when i see you this vulnerable, this honest, really." he said as he leaned in to kiss you, with your eyes gazing up into his mahogany brown ones. the clip was paused in the middle of the kiss scene since a guest had knocked on miguel's office door. "is that during my friend's wedding night?" you asked him with a big smile as miguel's face got all flustered and he closed the monitor, shaking his head. "huh, what friend, what wedding night?" he asked you rapidly as you stifled a laugh. "you're not that slick, miggy." you told him as he rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly grinned at you. "that's my fatal flaw." he admitted with a chuckle as you held his other hand in your own.

"why were you watching it, miggy? too excited for our own wedding night? can't wait to dance with me?" you asked him with a glimmer in your eyes. miguel cleared his throat and looked away from you and off into the dark distance of his room, his eyes scanning the surroundings, not really looking for anything in particular, but merely wanting to look at anything but you, because... he didn't know how to tell you the words that he wanted to release from his mouth right now. he sighed and decided that, since you were going to be his spouse soon anyway, better yet he be honest and confess to you right now his anxieties.

"well, um, i... you could say i'm excited, yes, but... i'm a little scared." he admitted in a hushed voice as he felt your grip tighten around his hand. "do tell me about it, i won't judge." you told him in a soft tone as miguel smiled a little and shook his head. "oh, where to begin?" he asked himself as he rubbed his forehead and took in a deep breath. miguel went on to describe his worries about being the perfect husband, if he could even fulfil the role of being your lover, your husband; if you'd have even the slightest regrets about marrying him... it's these irrepressible, negative thoughts of his that hinders him from enjoying the time he has with you, because he can barely enjoy time with himself.

"i just... want to be enough for you, you know that..." he said as he held your hand back and squeezed your hand slightly. he sighed again as he thought he just bummed you out and made you see just how weak he really was when it came to the things and people that really mattered to him in his life. "i'm sorry, it's really pathetic, isn't it?" he asked you with a slight chuckle, which was soon broken by you suddenly leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. it was short; a brief kiss, though one that pulled miguel out of his self-deprecating trance for a minute to listen to you. "i'm going to marry a man who loves me and is self-assured that he loves me; i'm not going to marry this handsome impostor who doesn't even know if he thinks he's enough for me, he is, has, and always will be." you said with a loving smile as you placed both of your hands on either sides of his face.

miguel's eyes soften as he gazes back into your own eyes, filled with love and slight sympathy for him; you have no idea what it's like to be in those big shoes he has to fill, and you won't pretend you have all the answers, that you know everything, but you can guarantee him that as his lover, best friend, and future spouse--you will definitely be there for him, come rain or shine. you pulled him in for another kiss, which felt more passionate and longer than the previous one. as you pulled away, miguel not only appeared more flustered, but he appeared to be more... in awe of you. he nodded and covered his lips, which he kept parting and bringing together over and over in an effort to say something, anything to thank you for your words, your assurance, because he needs that more than you will ever know.

he returned the favor by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for another, more dramatic, kiss. his eyelids fluttered open after he kissed you and he smiled as he gazed at your beautiful, bashful face. "i'm really marrying you, huh? how did i... how did i get so lucky?" he asked you as you smiled and kissed him again, leaving him unanswered, but thoroughly happy and satisfied with you and all the love and comfort you had for him, with plenty more in store when you two were finally to be wedded.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @ophanimgold @melovetitties

[ro-botany]

An Anatomical Reference of Grima, ca. 608 (Archanean Calendar)

(In essence: I got my claws on Grima's model from Echoes, and took screenshots of it in blender for your art referencing convenience. At some point later I'll reblog with some gifs of his animations if I can get them working. Enjoy!)

---

An excerpt from a worn journal attributed to an unnamed Summoner of Askr. Carefully affixed between paragraphs of chicken-scratch are several large, high quality photographs.

With the assistance of the dragon Askr, I've finally opened the correct gateway; one leading deep within the Thabes Labyrinth just around the time of the hero Alm's adventures. And it was just as the old manuscripts claimed! At the heart of the lowest levels, we found The Creation - he who would one day go on to be known as the Fell Dragon, Grima - laying in a deep torpor to conserve energy. It's taken near a month of work, and I've no doubt the rest of the Order thinks I'm nuts by now, but with a lot of one-on-one talking and the offering of several cart-fulls of quality carrion for him to eat, we've at long last built up a mutual trust! He's not quite at the point of letting any of us touch him, not even me; and he outright panics if he sees someone carrying a stave. As such, any real investigation of his physical health and detailed characteristics will have to wait. But he tolerates my flitting about with Anna's picture tome well enough, and has allowed me to take enough photographs and rough 3D scans for us to get a sense of his external anatomy. Once he's regained enough strength to move and levitate without undue difficulty, I hope to capture some short video of him in motion...

Full-Body Shots

His wings and horns are proportionally quite small compared to the much older instances of Grima I've dealt with thus far. Is this just because he's so much younger? With how much time he's spent trapped down here, it might be malnutrition stunting his growth, too...

Facial Shots

At first I'd assumed he had a pair of pharyngeal jaws like an eel, but upon further visual inspection I believe his cranial anatomy is far stranger than even that. There's no apparent gums or tongue inside the exterior jaw, and no musculature or soft tissue connecting the outer cranium to the outer jaw at the corners of the mouth; those features are confined solely to the inner pair of structures. And his lower external jaw isn't even connected to the flesh of his neck! I won't know for sure until he allows me to do a tactile exam, but from what I can see, I suspect his entire exterior "face" is actually a specialized defensive structure like the bony plates on his back. Like a big pair of horns, almost. What appears to be teeth may actually be akin to the points on a deer's antlers.

Torso Detail

His body construction really reflects his origins. He almost looks composed of two human rib cages, compressed and stacked atop one another. Complete with two lateral shoulder girdles and at least the appearance of very humanoid chest and back musculature. The range of motion on the joints of his hind limbs is decidedly NOT humanoid, though. I'll have to try to get some focused video shots of them once he's up and about.

I know we're not SUPPOSED to alter the timelines of the worlds we visit if we can help it, but... I mean, helping him has always been the goal, and the studies were always the excuse. Leaving him here would eat me alive. Maybe if I appeal to Sharena's emotions, and we get Chrom involved...

[aquaquadrant]

The Time King

Word count: 1,937 Warning: Implied death A/N: Finally got around to uploading my piece for the @bdubszine (which y'all should def check out if u haven't already). This was a different approach for me and a lot of fun, loved the chance to write abt Bdubs's season 8 finale. Hope y'all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do <3 - Aqua

The Time King

~*~

It’s the end of the world, and Bdubs is doing fine.

Why wouldn’t he? He’s the fuzzy, cozy, mossy Time King! Uh- King of the Server, in fact. If he may be so bold. Everyone else is- they had a meeting, and everyone else is leaving. Everyone’s leaving, he’s the only one left- last man standing! Oh, or uh- floating? He float- he’s flyin’ all over the place, now, uh- it’s fine! This is fine, he likes it.

(The Time King is a liar.)

Oh, so the moon is big. Hah, yeah, that- it’s been happening for a while now, Bdubs supposes. But he didn’t see it ‘til just- just recently ‘cause, um- of course, whenever night comes, he- he’s the Time King! And the Time King… changes the day- uh, changes night to day. Right. Right, right, right, right, right, of course. He’s gotta sleep, okay, so he hasn’t seen the moon for- for forever, and it’s big now.

And it’s comin’.

Blocks are flyin’ up everywhere, all over the place, and uh… they aren’t comin’ back. Some of these builds, oh boy, okay, they look rough. They’re getting pretty shambled. And then there’s the- the ground shaking, every so often. Shaking real bad. And then- yes, of course, the flying! Bdubs floats now, he flies- it doesn’t last long. He’s gotten used to it.

But everyone else got… uh, they got real nervous, it seems. Nobody else is on the world, currently, and- and nobody’s been on since their meeting, so. Yeah.

(The Time King is alone.)

So everything in the world can belong to Bdubs. Ah hah! That’s- he’s pretty sure that’s how it works. He thinks- the rest of the Big Eye Crew, Tango, Keralis- they gone. Oh, yeah. They- Tango went on a little uh… space mission, to the moon, okay, so- so Bdubs doesn’t think he’ll be back on this world again. He did… uh, send Tango a little message… you know, just to let him know that… well, things are floatin’ and flyin’ all over the place, it’s a mess here, everything is in shambles. So Tango really… really shouldn’t come back.

Oh! And Keralis, that sweetie, he’s got a- a- big ol’, uh… space… station? Space ship? So that’s- yeah, that’s how he’s leaving. Oh, but his house is so- oh, what a beauty! What gorgeous- it’s a shame, really, but- but hey, good for Bdubs! Right? Oh, that’s amazing. Keralis’s house and private island, Tango’s cyclops under the mountain, the Big Eye shopping district- sure enough, Bdubs can claim it all!

Isn’t this beautiful? This is- he feels like he could stay here forever. You know, for as much forever as he’s got left.

(The Time King is running out of time.)

See, Ol’ Bdubs- he ain’t no fool! He knows. He knows that, uh, there’s a good reason everybody’s leaving. It’s… this isn’t the kinda problem that can be fixed, you know? Of course, they’d respawn. Players respawn, when they get killed. But the moon is comin’ and he thinks there won’t be much of anything left, after. And who- who’d want to stick around for that, right? Right, okay… uh, well him, he supposes. But someone has to leave last, right?

That’s- that’s the thing about uh, you know, the end of a world. Someone is always the last one to leave.

Bdubs has played on a lotta different worlds, over the years. And someone will always be the- the last person to ever, uh, exist in a world... as everyone gradually fades out and uh, you know, ventures forth into new adventures… and stuff. That’s what usually happens, okay. So when a world ends, someone is always the last person to see it- to actually load the chunks.

And then they leave, and the world is held in a sort of uh, a sort of stat- uh, status? In stasis. So it’s still there- all their old worlds- waiting for them, if they ever wanna visit. Like, if they want to look at old builds, or look at old redstone. Or you know, just take a stroll down memory lane. So, the Hermits- they’ve had plenty of worlds end, but they’re never really gone.

This time is different. This time, there’ll be nothing to come back to.

So uh… it’s only right, Bdubs thinks, that someone be here to witness it.

And you know, there’s… part of Bdubs doesn’t like the thought of leaving his pets here alone. There’s Squawkers, of course, and Lulu, his faithful companion. Pets get left behind all the time on old worlds, it’s- it’s just how things are. They can’t travel between worlds. But Bdubs is always comforted by the thought that no matter what… they’re still there, waiting for him.

And he knows they aren’t real, okay, not in the way players are. They’re just- uh, little bundles of code and data that exist only on this world. They don’t have a- a unique, sort of… con- conscience? Or- no, um… consciousness. Something that can, uh… persist… beyond this world. That’s just how the universe designed ‘em.

Oh, there’ll be other horses, of course, in other worlds. Maybe uh… maybe even ones made of the same data and codes as Lulu. Like… the same- same color, the same stats. Like a- ‘oh, look here, this is a standard white horse with eleven hearts, eleven-point-nine block speed, two-and-a-half snow jumpin’ horse!’ Physically identical in every way, sure enough, but- you know, it- it won’t be Lulu.

Animals don’t respawn. Of course. So- so when the moon comes down, and uh… you know, blows everything to kingdom come… they aren’t gonna… um. It’ll- you know. So he just- he doesn’t want them to be alone, for that. Yes, yes, okay, Bdubs is a big ol’ softie, sure…

(The Time King is… sentimental.)

He’s not sure what’ll happen to him, exactly, after respawning. He’s never- can he even respawn in a world that gets destroyed? Or- or will it be like, um… the ultra- ultra hardcore? Worlds? Hardcore worlds where after you die, you just… can’t go back. It doesn’t exist anymore. Deleted. Gone. Bye-bye. Go back to another world. Yeah, maybe it’ll be like that.

But, you know, until that happens, Bdubs is making the most of it. Having a nice tour around the world, the beautiful world- seein’ what everyone built. Oh, it’s amazing- it all belongs to him, now! And that’s- there’s something really nice, about that.

‘Cause there’s all of Boatem, of course- Grian’s magical alley, Scar- sweet Scar- his uh, Swaggon… place? The Swaggons. There’s Impulse’s candy factory, Pearl’s mountain range, Mumbo’s sort of… mountaintop village… shrine? Yes, lovely. Oh, it’s all lovely. So the Boatem people left, down through the uh, the Boatem Hole, of course- those sillies. So it all belongs to Bdubs, now! Amazing.

Then there’s Octagon, too- and oh goodness, how amazing is Octagon! Doc and Ren, those two guys really… uh, really outdid themselves. Giant praying mantis… that’s- oh, that looks like some pretty impressive redstone, there- uh, for Doc, that is! For Bdubs, it’s- he can understand that, all too easy. Of course. Maybe he’ll improve on it, later. Yeah.

Oh goodness, there’s so much here… Bdubs could go on and on, really. Etho and Iskall’s savannah, Cleo and Joe’s big ol’ castle, Jevin’s slime pit and custom swamp, Cub’s humongous dripstone canyon, Beef’s spaceship, Xb’s bunker, Zedaph’s lab, Xisuma’s village, Hypno’s mushroom, Wels’s house, TFC’s mine, and the forest shared by False, Stress, and Gem. Oh, yes! Oh, baby, it’s all property of Bdubs, now! What- what a paradise this is! Even… even if not everything got finished. That’s okay. Uh- he can work on it, later. Maybe.

And of course, Bdubs checks on all the profits from the Big Eye shopping district. And sure enough, they’ve got sales! They’ve got- he’s practically rolling in diamonds, now! Richest Hermit on the server, by far! Isn’t that fitting, for the Time King? Oh, their beautiful shopping district- there’s still some wool scaffolding, though, around the place. Some outlines of buildings he never got to build. That’s okay, he- oh, didn’t get to build yet, he’ll say instead. Yeah, he likes that better.

(The Time King is great at pretending.)

And finally, there’s… oh, right. Hollow Hills. The horse course he was building with Etho. Right. He forgot about that. Right, right, right, right, right. Okay. It’s finished, it is, just- they had some ideas about cool things to add, power-ups and stuff, but the course is rideable! It’s- look, he can take Lulu for a race right now- perfect riding, of course, world record- and it’s all complete and- and functional! And he said- he and Etho, they always- every time they start a project together, they just go too big, okay, and never finish. But not this time! It’s finished! They did... it’s just, they never got around to holding a proper race on it, is all.

Um… 

That’s the other thing, about the end of a world. Usually, they have more time. 

They get to choose when they’re done, you know? And that’s- that’s not to say that they always finish every project, okay, but usually they’ve done everything they wanted to. Projects are left unfinished ‘cause of a lack of inspiration, not a- not a time limit. They usually have time to do whatever they need to before the end. But uh, right now.. all Bdubs can think about is everything he still had left to do, all the life he still wanted to live on this world.

So he’s not really sure if he’s still here because he’s brave enough to stay, or just too scared to say goodbye.

(Oh, Time King, did you get everything you needed?)

It’s the end of the world, and Bdubs is afraid.

He’s finished his tour, finished seeing all the amazing builds that he laid claim to, for- hah, for all of one day. He’s collected his profits, collected all the wonderful diamonds that he earned for his hard work makin’ and stockin’ the shops- even though it’s uh, it’s too late to spend ‘em anywhere. He’s completed his race, completed a perfect run on the racetrack, first try, of course, and- and he can claim the world record because the world’s ending, anyway, so no one could beat it even if they tried. No one will ever get the chance.

So as the moon bears down on the world, Bdubs stands outside his starter base- and that’s uh, that’s kinda funny to think about, you know? Calling it a starter base when he never really moved on from it. It’s just his base, his one and only base, and sure enough, it’s a moon, of all things. He’s got Squawkers on his shoulder, lil’ claws or uh, talons, gripping through the mossy cloak, still squawkin’ an imitation of a zombie they passed earlier. And he’s got Lulu at his side, lead rope in one hand as he pets her velvety soft nose with the other, tryin’ to keep her calm because he thinks… uh, he thinks she can tell.

And as the moon- oh, it’s beautiful. As the moon- the humongous moon, swallow the whole sky moon- bears down on the world, ringed with flames and blazing a- a yellow so bright it’s painful to look at, Bdubs can’t help but think that it uh, it looks an awful lot, actually, like the sun.

Isn’t that fitting?

(The Time King changes night to day, one last time.)

~*~

[vieramars]

Bc the post I just reblogged gave me ideas here's a bunch of silly tmagp headcanons about what kind of pet owners they'd be

Sam - he's allergic to cats, and he used to be terrified of dogs. When he dated Alice she had a dog, and he pretended to be comfortable around the dog until it became genuine. He's still uncomfortable around most dogs but if he gets to know them he really likes them. I don't think he'd own a dog though. I think if anything he'd have a bird (maybe a canary hehe). He got the bird before he was really ready or understood its needs but then dove headfirst into research and now he knows enough about owning birds to teach a class. Also he got really into birdwatching and bird ID as a side effect.

Alice - she's a cats and dogs person, can't have one without the other. And she's actually responsible about it and socializes her pets together well. I think she'd also really like bug pets like tarantulas and mantises. She's a bit of an amateur bug keeper but she's doing her best. She did once accidentally have a mantis last eggs and then her entire apartment became the Mantis Domain for a few weeks.

Gwen - probably wasn't allowed to have pets as a kid and internalized that way too hard. She thinks having an animal in your house is "dirty." She is definitely befriending the stray cats around the area of the OIAR (she will deny these accusations to the grave). She doesn't try to, but they keep coming up to her so how can she refuse to give them scritches? I also think she's incurably scared of dogs. And she's absolutely a horse girl deep down. And, tragically, I'll hc that she really wanted a pet fox when she was a kid (until, you know...)

Colin - as we know, he's the world's best fish dad. I think it's fish and only fish for him, though maybe some other aquatic creatures. I feel like he thinks he's too much of a mess to have a pet that requires space. His fish were a therapy recommendation that he got really invested in and, like Sam, he did tons of research to figure out which fish were right for him and how to take care of them. If he wasn't busy fighting for his fucking life he'd probably have multiple fishtanks so he could keep different kinds of fish that don't mix so well.

Lena - I feel like she does not vibe with traditional pets at all but she really vibes with fish and reptiles. She doesn't want pets that require an emotional connection. She read that one post about how reptiles may not feel love in the way human society values but they can have a bond of trust and she felt personally called out. I'm torn on whether she actually owns any pets; I feel like she's both too busy and too afraid of failure to actually take the life of any animal into her own hands. She's been "waiting until she has the time" since she was 20. She knows or knew people with reptiles and would go over to their places just to chill with the creatures. Somewhere on her computer are a bunch of old pictures of her holding various snakes and lizards and they're the few pictures where she's smiling. If she survives the series relatively unscathed (by which I mean alive to a certain extent and able to carry on) someone please get her a snake.

Teddy - seems like a dog person. Probably has a very chill old dog who's well taken care of. The kind of dog everyone loves when they visit cause he just walks up to you, plomps down, and waits patiently for pets. Teddy's worried about being able to take care of him if he can't find a job soon.

Celia - I don't think she'd have a pet, since she seems to not want to form too many attachments to this world. With how much stress the dilemma of Jack is for her, a pet would just complicate things further. If she were able to though, I think she'd be a cat person. Also I love cat person + bird person dynamics so it feels fitting.

Bonus headcanon Klaus was one of Lena's reptile owning friends who owned an iguana. He took the iguana with him in the friendship divorce.

[sincerely-sofie]

I saw your tag about meeting your boyfriend because of posting on Tumblr and I'm very curious as to how that happened. Like, did you find each other's blogs, saw you had stuff in common and met up IRL? What happened? Please give us details (if you're willing to talk about it, no worries if not!)

Also, for a boyfriend tag, may I suggest... Calcium. Cuz you're a skeleton and calcium makes bones stronger... I'll see myself out

(Referencing the tags of this post)

Oh my gosh. Buddy you have just opened up Pandora’s box. Brace yourself for the most adorable couple origin story ever.

He followed me fairly early on into the process of me posting my work on Tumblr. I don’t remember exactly, but I think my TPiaG mini comic “Heart-to-Heartbreak” was the first post he ever reblogged from me. After that, he was super enthusiastic and involved with my blog and engaged with basically every post I ever made. This guy was one of THE followers of my work— if I posted something, he was always there to like it and share super thoughtful commentary or hilarious jokes.

I absolutely adored him even back then, and we had barely exchanged a handful of messages on Tumblr where he thanked me for inspiring him to get back into art and writing, and I blubbered about how meaningful that was to me. We eventually followed each other on Spotify and I think that’s about the point when I really should have realized I had it bad for him. I was CONSTANTLY rambling to my mom about how much I wanted to be this internet stranger’s best friend, but I was super hesitant because our family has been huge on online stranger danger and never really talking to anyone unless you know exactly who they are in real life. I’m an adult and all, yeah, but I was still super anxious about internet strangers at large— though he never once made me uncomfortable or wary :>

Eventually, he made a goofy post about it being his birthday, and I bolted to tell my mom about that and how I didn’t have enough time that day to polish up any content of his favorite characters I’ve written and post it as a gift for him. I was utterly distraught and pretty much full-on monologuing to my ever-so patient mother about how much I wanted to befriend this man and how amazing he was and how shy I felt about the matter, and she looked me dead in the eyes and told me to ask him if he wanted to message each other more and get to know each other better.

I sent him a message over Tumblr, we exchanged Discord usernames, and I’m pretty sure it was just over a week of messaging and getting to know each other more and more every day later when he told me he thought he was in love with me— to which I very eloquently rattled off a bunch of nonsense that ended in “I don’t know how to communicate this other than by saying ‘dude, same’.”

After that, we’ve only gotten more and more mutually obsessed. Thankfully he’s in the same country as me, and we’re even timezone neighbors, so he’s not on the opposite side of the world— and when I realized some of my household were going on a trip to the same state where he lived for a family wedding, I SCRAMBLED to insert myself into that trip last-minute. We had originally thought that we’d meet up when he could drive to my state (a process that would take a long time because of some complicating factors), but when I realized my family were flying down there, I was practically foaming at the mouth with the thought of seeing him so much sooner. We met up not that long ago and were even able to meet some of each other’s family members (my family absolutely adores him, and I think his likes me a fair bit too, hehe). But listen: when I tell you I adored him before, I was absolutely head-over-heels for him when we met in person. I got to hug him and I had this thought come to mind of “Oh. This is the person I want to marry.” And I’ve never once doubted it :>

During the times we met up we mostly sat around and basked in each other’s presence and stared at each other. I ended up breaking eye contact a lot because I kept getting flustered and also because this man is TALL and I had to periodically rest my neck 😂 I was able to give him some pins I had made of our PMD team that represents us, and my boyfriend. My boyfriend, you guys. He had the gall to send me a screenshot of an eBay listing of the world’s most adorable Snorlax plush weeks before while we were on a call together, bought it immediately after I had said I loved the plush’s face as we hung up, and then GAVE ME IT WHEN WE MET UP.

Look at him. That’s my son now. I was trying to think of what to name the little guy when my toddler niece dubbed him Tummy. My boyfriend approves of the monicker— as he should, because it’s the bestest name for the bestest boy.

TL;DR— He followed me on tumblr, I desperately wanted to be friends with him and sent him my Discord username on his birthday, we exchanged “I love you”s a week later, and I was almost sick on a plane because I was so excited to see him during a trip to his state for a family member’s wedding. We are absolutely obsessed with each other and kind of instantly Knew from the get-go that we’re going to be each other’s Person™️.

As for the tag, I'm not sure I’ll go with it but I’m starting to consider “The Boyfriend Bird Feeder”, because it works out to the acronym BFBF which I find funny, I mainly want to make the tag as a way for him to easily find posts where I’m talking about how amazing he is whenever he needs a pick-me-up (and so people can block the tag if they find me raving about my man so much annoying lol), and his persona that we spent all day yesterday cooking up looks like this:

[wannab-urs]

Gin's 2023 sappy post

It's hard for me to believe that at the beginning of this year, I didn't know a single one of my best friends in the world existed. But it's true!

How we got here

I'm not quite sure exactly when I started looking up Pedro Pascal on Tumblr, but it was sometime after February. I'd watched Game of Thrones and Oberyn was my favorite character, but I was in one of my periods of not being on Tumblr (I've had this account for about 10 years, but it's seen many fandoms and I haven't always been active).

I watched the first few episodes of The Last of Us that had come out - I was 3 episodes behind I think - and immediately looked up Joel Miller on Tumblr. How could I not? Anyway, give me ten minutes on this hellsite and a middle aged man with a huge imdb and watch me develop a hyperfixation.

So then I looked up interviews. I watched basically every interview this man ever did, but I remember that the Lie Detector interview and his appearance on the Talk Easy podcast are really what did me in. I went from admiring this man as an actor and thinking he's pretty to basically being in love with him.

Anyways....

I didn't mean to start reading fanfic? I come from the world of Destiel on AO3. I never wrote it, I just read copious amounts of it. I'd never read reader insert, much less straight reader insert, and I'd never written a word of anything even resembling a fanfiction.

But I found @prolix-yuy, @frannyzooey, @joelscruff, @fuckyeahdindjarin, and @ezrasbirdie (check the spreadsheet, y'all are at the very top!) and I was hooked.

Then I read Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat and Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried and was inspired to parade my trauma around in a Dieter shaped trench coat: AGOY was born.

@beskarandblasters is the first person I really talked to on here. In fact, Kel is the one who introduced me to most of my friends on here. And we've been harassing each other on the daily since. I hope to 🦵 her in real life someday soon ❤️. I love you, bitch. You mean the world to me.

I could never ever ever list all of my dear friends I've made on here. Seriously, there are so many of you that mean the world to me. But I'm gonna list a few.

My cannibal crew @pr0ximamidnight and @atinylittlepain, without whom Love as Violence Dave (starving season), Head up his Ass Javi (in the a.m.), and the later editions of loser druggie Dieter (AGOY) would not exist - or at least they wouldn't be as good as they are.

My darling soup snake, the loml, my spider twin, my forever partner in making bitches cry (it's us, we're bitches, making each other cry in an endless loop) @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. #1 AGOY stan forever, you may love my own magnum opus more than I love it. Thanks for listening to me scream about every pedro boy on the planet and thanks for screaming right back at me. I love you.

The random college student I found by accident, decided to take under my wing, and then was subsequently taken under their wing bc it turns out they have more fandom experience and life advice than I can ever hope to have @idolatrybarbie. Bea, my darling, thanks for always letting me bitch, for showing me fics I never thought I'd be into (The Santa Claus AU Frankie Morales Free Use Kink, anyone) but that I often was into, for encouraging my writing, and for being fucking real with me.

The pedrostories crew, but especially @pedrorascal - I love screaming about Pedro with you at... 2:30 in the morning my time (we love time zones!). Thanks for letting me be a terrible mod for your fic archive blog and never getting mad at me for not doing my job. And for being a wonderful, kind, amazing person all the fucking time.

I'm being so serious when I say I could list at least 20 more people. People who brightened my day with a reblog or a message. Or who wrote a fic I still think about at least once a week. Or who made a gifset that is permanently etched into my brain. People I talked to in discords and most likely trauma dumped on and they listened and they cared and they let me hold their trauma in return. I love you guys so fucking much.

Conclusion

I never could have imagined I'd be a writer and run a fic rec blog at 24. Especially not for Pedro Pascal Characters. But here we are -- and I can honestly say it has been the highlight of my year. And I bought a house this year.

I have so many new friends and a new hobby (I never wrote at all before this) just because I wanted to Fuck That Old Man. Incredible.

[skeletalsepulchre]

making a copy of this bc op disabled reblogs and i just got reminded it existed and would like to not lose it

ok so . im outing myself to the world but thats fine this is too funny to not share

so. ive run a roleplay blog for a few years. i keep it separate from my main, yknow, its just a side hobby and ive been doing it since i was like, 12. its cringe but hey yknow at least im not 30 and writing ya novels

now its pretty common for rp blogs these days to have rules. right? you dont want to just bag any weirdo on this website, and as you can imagine bnha roleplayers are batshit crazy (see: conversion therapy todoroki) so mine are pretty strict and detailed. because ive been doing it long enough to be exposed to what counts as carbon monoxide poison from a screen. one of those rules is "if youre mutuals with people who write porn of the kids even aged up im blocking you we're keeping a ten foot pole on this". because as a 20 year old man i have a healthy disinterest in seeing paragraphs of teenagers fucking

so the dash is astir with talk of a guy writing age up bakugou porn and im like ok whatever. make a post bitching about it . mutual likes those posts but then the mutual is turning around and being buddy buddy with this guy so i dm the mutual like hey whats going on here . mutual is like "well why dont you talk it out with him hes not as mean as he seems i prommy" and im like sure whatever i can have civil conversation and if it ends with One Less Person writing weirdo porn then i might be able to get into heaven

so i dm him and he loses his fucking mind. it lasted all of 10 minutes because he was sending paragraphs like this and i was too tired to give a shit

(take note of my icon thats a special tool thatll help us later)

(also he goes by the name rxgelord. WITH the x. thats also important just because its funny as fuck)

so the guys clearly bothered by the idea that people might possibly talk about him without his permission and im a little miffed after being misgendered (which hed do again later) so i just post our dms. swing first and hey batter batter lets play ball i dont give a shit this is bnha roleplay

once again: loses his damn mind. he makes a psa post about me talking about how im just some pussy infant and hes too HARD for me and shit and also they do bakudeku muffin roleplay in the comments of that post which is fucking insane

anyway. at one point while joking about the whole thing i called him a "wannabe bakugou kinnie" as a joke and apparently he felt a very serious need to address this

and im like holllllllllllllly fucking shit

you may have noticed that his posts are incredibly over-formatted. this goes for everything he does he is pouring a LOT of time and energy into typing his 9 paragraphs about how im an insane bitch or whatever. (if theres literally one thing i can give him credit on its that his graphic editing skills are kinda good. i will be honest) his rules document is also just as insane and features gems such as:

(this dude thinks hes pulling bitches on a bnha roleplay blog)

so we're just full on ragging on him at this point and hes getting MADDDDDDD MAD. he misgenders me again and when i point it out he has the following excuse:

(art by @/pcktknife. anyways)

after a certain point i get dmd an old copy of a 130+ page callout he had a year prior and im like WHAT and it included his yugioh rp blog career and various allegations like having been involved in gang violence, doxxing, etc. also a picture of the hickies he bragged about leaving on his uwu pink glitter gf which looked more like he was trying to go for the killing bite but hey. yknow. apparently im a toddler idk how that works

along in this we also find his twitch account, which was under the name rxgelord, and it featured edited graphics of his real life face with bakugou. he posts selfies a lot too i wont share them even if theyre public but he has knuckle tats and a goatee and uses the greyscale filter. if this gives you an idea. he also had 5 twitch followers and detailed his desire to be a rapper/dj and im like holllllly fucking shit this guy cant be a real person. holy fuck.

anyways. skipping a lot of unnecessary bullshit and paragraphs of text with gifs from 2013 attached hes constantly going on about how we wont just "say it to his face" which i think is hilarious bc i was, the entire time. but im like ok fine you want me so bad

so i send him this. he posts about how "he won when he got all might" (for some reason hes calling my ex mutual by the character name. i dont know) and then hasnt posted in 4 days. he deleted his twitch. im a little worried bakugou. dont say that. may have actually chased this man off the internet . to go have real life sex with his real life girlfriend so he isnt so mad

anyway we ended up turning one of his posts into an eminem uberduck

im honestly probably forgetting something this was so much and it was so fucking funny and honestly im glad to have been there

update: he has not in fact posted since last summer. god bless.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 3

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The list of what you can do is shorter than those things barred from you. The doctor merely confirmed your deepest fears and sealed Lloyd’s sentence. A baby. A whole other life and you’re supposed to be responsible for it. You know for a fact he won’t be, at least, not beyond tossing money at the situation.

Your arm is tender from the implant removal. The procedure was emblematic of your state. The excision of part of yourself, the last remnant of your old self. You mourn the loss quietly, keeping your face blank as you pretend to read the literature shoveled into your hands by the nurse before your departure.

Lloyd is gleeful, he can’t hide his joy but you are not deluded. It’s not some wholesome delight at bringing a new life into the world, no, it’s celebrating the life he’s ruined. Yours. A child is the brand that marks your ownership.

As you enter his house, it feels bleak. The pristine white and gold aesthetic is dingy and beige to your eyes. The world is grimmer, constricted. Your leash is tight and cannot reach beyond these walls.

A sudden smack across your ass jolts you from your melancholic trance. Lloyd takes a pamphlet from the pile clutched in your hands and unfolds it. He gives it a once over and hands it back.

“I got a treadmill in the gym. You should hop on that every once in a while. Stuff says you need to stay active,” he shrugs, “wouldn’t mind a workout buddy.”

You squint at him. There it is. All those times Colin gently tried to goad you. ‘There’s a special at the gym’, ‘let’s make a new years resolution’,’ it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try something new’.

“Or… I could go for walks outside,” you suggest, “get some fresh air.”

“Don’t be fucking smart,” he warns, “I’m not being a fuckhead here, I’m trying to help. Do what’s best for the baby but don’t you dare lose that fucking ass. A brisk pace, no running.”

You sigh. This man has the audacity to dictate everything around him as if the world is built just for him. In his head, maybe it is. From the looks of it, he’s never been denied anything in his life. 

“So, you still don’t trust me?”

“Trust?” He clucks, “that’s a funny concept. But no. You wanna go for a walk, I’ll take you out for one like a good pet.”

You scowl and he smirks, reaching to tap the end of your nose. You wipe your face of all emotion and pull away, refocusing on the booklets in your hand.

“Decaf,” he declares, “and we should look into some vitamins. Doc says at your age–”

“I wish you hadn’t just welcomed yourself in, you know? It’s kind of… private.”

“Hey, I’m the father, I got every right to know what’s going on with my kid.”

“Mmm, sure, and what about when the kid shows up? How about diapers? Colic? Sticky hands?”

“That’s what nanny’s are for,” he wrinkles his nose, “ew, you’re– such a pessimist, baby face.”

And you're a dumbass, you keep the retort to yourself and shake your head at the next page. No coffee, no hot baths, no sushi… Sounds like a wonderful nine months.

“One thing at a time,” he nears and grasps the clutter in your hands. A brief tug-of-war as you clamp down but relent, letting him take it before it scattered, “we still got a wedding to plan.”

“Plan? I thought Vegas was easy–”

“Dresses,” he insists as he places the papers in the console table drawer, “get your coat off. We’re gonna do a little fashion show.”

“Oh, fuck off. Just gimme the one with the most last,” you huff as you unbutton your coat.

“I think we should weigh our options, baby,” he opens the closet and hangs his jacket, “so you’re gonna strut and do a pretty little spin. If your ass don’t look good, we know it’s not the one.”

“You are so romantic,” you say dryly as you add your coat to the row along the rod.

“Oh, I’m thinking the whole nine yard. Veil, flowers, something blue, something inside you–”

“Right, let’s just get this over with before I vomit,” you interrupt him.

“Ah, little baby Hansen already causing trouble.”

“No, you. You make me sick.”

He snickers and grabs your arm. He pulls you to him, his other arm looping around you. He leans in and you try to turn your face away. He catches your chin and holds you in place as he plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth.

“You think they’ll let me kiss you other lips at the altar,” he purrs as he parts, “climb up under your skirt–”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not really,” he answers, another slap on your ass, “let’s go, peaches.”

He keeps an arm around you as he guides you away from the entryway and back to the front room where the rack of dresses waits. The golden bar has been righted and the garment bags rehung. Lloyd lets you go and strides ahead of you, pushing apart the wire hangers with a hum.

“Oh, this one is my front runner,” he turns to you and holds out a white bag, “this one first.”

You glare at him and slowly approach, taking it with hesitance.

“So, when exactly is this wedding supposed to happen because I probably won’t fit into these soon–”

“You sign?” He challenges.

You swallow and give an indecisive look to the ceiling.

“I told you I would–”

“Later,” he waves you off, “don’t spoil this.”

You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You? Spoil it? You look down at the hang and drag away the long garment bag.

“Change here,” he insists as he sits on the sofa, stretching his arms wide across the back, “behind that… whatever.”

He points to the fanned divider placed to the impractical aesthetic of whatever designer he paid to decorate. You sniff and near the wall, pulling it out to angle it around so you have some room behind it. You peek over at him as he feels his mustache and smirks at the room.

You dip behind the barrier and unzip the bag. The contents are worse than you could ever imagine. A white leather halter dress. Not your style, if you can claim to have any. You sigh and pull it out.

“What’s up, doll face?” Lloyd taunts from the other side.

“Nothing,” you lie, your tone betraying your agitation.

You undress and open the zipper as wide as it goes. You struggle to pull the tight leather sheath up your body and strain to do it up. You’re less impressed by the cut out over your cleavage and long split down the thigh. Worse, the way it stretches over your stomach makes you feel even more exposed.

“This isn’t it,” you drone, “I’m taking it off–”

“Get out here,” he speaks over you.

“Lloyd, I hate it–”

“That shit’s designer so you walk your ass out here and give me a look,” he intones, “now, sweetheart.”

You hold back another frustrated exhale and move slowly. The leather creaks loudly and you cringe. You come around the divider and march over to the sofa. You stop before him and cross your arms.

“It’s too small.”

“Fuck,” he leans forward and steeples his hands, brushing his fingers up under his chin, “you look fucking hot.”

“Don’t–”

“Your tits look huge. Like… humongous–” He makes a motion as if squeezing your chest.

You stare at him, unable to conceal your anger. Is he just saying he likes it because he knows you don’t or is he really that tacky?

“Turn,” he spins his finger in the air. You take a breath and obey. As you do, he growls and slaps his thigh. “Damn, that ass. I mean, you can’t see it but let me tell you, it looks magnificent. The kinda ass a man could dive right into.”

“Right, thanks,” you face him again with a sneer, “can I take this shit off?”

“You can hike up that skirt and give daddy a ride,” he sits back as he drags his hands up his pants and pulls his knees apart. The bulge beneath the white pants is all too obvious.

“This isn’t the dress, Lloyd. There are a dozen more–”

“I know it’s not, but you gotta fuck me in it at least once,” he picks at his fly.

You cringe and slowly bend to grab the skirt, pushing it back at the split as you get closer. He pulls his dick above his pants and strokes himself, reaching for your hip as he guides you into his lap. You get on your knees as you fight the leather around you and he rubs his tip against your entrance.

You sink down onto him and he trails his fingertips up your body. He covers your tits with his hands and squeezes, bucking below you as he groans.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t think I’m ready to share these,” he leans forward and buries his face in your cleavage, shaking his head with a lewd noise. He pulls back and tilts his head up to look at you, “I’m just fine with a formula baby.”

You push him against the couch and rock your hips. It’s the only way to shut him up. And you’ll gladly take a moment of peace before they’re gone for good.