#lightning protection boxes

[zhejiangleihaoelectric]

Function of backup protection device Folding advantages The backup protection devices of traditional surge protective devices are mostly circuit breakers and fuses. As backup protection devices, circuit breakers are prone to misoperation under the impact of surge. The surge withstand capacity is low. In order to obtain higher surge withstand capacity, the selected rated current will be relatively large, which will result in the inability to break the short circuit current to ground. The withstand capacity of fuse with the same rated current is lower than that of circuit breaker, and there is also the problem of larger selected rated current. SCB (special backup protection device for surge protector), as a new generation of backup protection device for surge protector, has strong breaking capacity and higher surge withstand capacity, and its short-circuit action current is far lower than the traditional backup protection device under the condition of considering both breaking capacity and surge endurance. It can effectively break the low short-circuit current and provide more sophisticated short-circuit protection for the surge protector.

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 ♡︎

characters: sub!AFAB!scar x gn!dom!reader

warnings: dissected organ and blood mentions, fingering, dry humping, squirting, clit pinching, light masochism, overstimulation, bondage, degrading, possessive and obsessive behavior, scar giving off HEAVY yandere vibes, reader has lightning powers so inappropriate use of lightning powers

notes: in loving memory of scar's onigiri manko😔 dividers from cafekitsune. this is a repost since tumblr is being a bitch🙄

being constantly stalked from the shadows can cause a person to do all sorts of things, y'know?

it started out small.

gifts being left at the front of your doorsteps, flowers, bouquets, sweets and snacks even ranging to weapons or things you needed to make a new weapon being left in the same old gift box. red, with white satin tied up in a cute bowtie at the front. you thought it was a cute way for your little secret admirer to notify "hey, it's me again!" to you each time they leave a gift.

but then, it started to get... a bit odd.

the gifts that used to be left at your doorstep with a knock would now be sitting inside your home. on the couch, the kitchen counter, the bed when you sometimes walk into your bedroom or even on the bathroom counter. the same old red colored box with a white satin in its stupid bowtie. as much as you appreciated this gesture of your secret admirer leaving you all sorts of gifts and presents, it had started to become... creepy. the mere thought of this person stalking you, knowing where you live, constantly coming back over and over to leave a gift for you to now downright breaking into your home.

you notified a midnight ranger of course. who in their sane mind would allow this thing to keep happening, even if they do have powers to protect themselves?

two rangers came by your home. snapping a few photos of the evidence, checking the locks and windows, under the bed, in the attic, basement - almost any and every place someone could hide in and places someone could break in through - they found nothing. whoever this stalker of yours was, they were a good one at getting rid of their traces.

of course, still worried for a citizen, they asked you to stay at a relative or a friend's place for a few days as the two rangers stay behind to capture your stalker when they come back eventually. bad move. the exact next morning, a few more midnight rangers came knocking at your friend's door, asking for your presence. the moment you saw the rangers, you felt a churning feeling in your gut. and you were right to feel that because turns out your stalker had ended up murdering the two rangers who stayed behind, dissecting their hearts and sewing them into one to create the cartoonish heart shape.

all wrapped up in red box and white satin bowtie with blood on the ends. paired with a small note slipped under the bowtie.

"do you like my gifts, darling :)?"

this was getting out of hand. you need to find a way to confront your stalker by yourself and take matters into your own hands. or else, who knows how many more midnight rangers have to die until your stalker comes to you. hell, even your friend could be killed because you chose to stay in their home for the night.

you began with a list of suspects on a notebook. red and white and apparently strong and deranged enough to kill not one but two midnight rangers as if they were still in training. mortefi? no. the researcher was too busy and besides, he's a standing citizen. completely normal and able to keep himself in line without turning into a stalker, fanatic fan. danjin? sure, she was unusually strong for a resonator who had just awakened her tacet marks but she would never kill people over someone she simply adored. encore? now you're the one who is going crazy here, [name].

for a brief moment you thought of a certain someone who had his eyes on you for a little while and wasn't afraid to show his infatuation with you. scar, one of the overseers of the fractsidus organization. one insane bastard, strong enough to kill two rangers as if they meant nothing to him and not to mention, he had a history of stalking you before. the hunch wasn't far fetched but now, all that you needed to prove this theory of yours is to capture your stalker. and if your stalker really is indeed scar, then you needed to teach some sense into him.

carefully, setting up traps in your own bedroom, all the while continuing to act if everything was okay and you weren't feeling eyes digging holes into the back of your skull, you slipped under your covers. turning the lights off, making sure to not exactly clutch your hand to trigger the trap, you closed your eyes as your breathing slows and the windows to your living room slides open.

‘that certainly didn't take long...’ you thought to yourself, entertained by just easy it was to fool your stalker and how quickly they slipped inside your home. just a few minutes after you laid your head on the pillow too.

the sound of footsteps grow closer, light and quick like the pitter patter of raindrops against your window making their way up the stairs and towards your room. your stalker seem to hesitate, their shoes stopping just outside your door as if they were straining their ears to listen to your breathing. as if satisfied with your act of being asleep, the sound of the door to your room opening is heard. the gentle shuffling of clothes and light heel taps making their way into the room. you could hear the box in their hands. that cursed red box with its white satin tied into a bow.

their steps make their way to the side of your bed, on the nightstand beside it as they place down their box of gift with a quiet thud. holding your breath, slowing your breathing as much as possible, you listen on to your stalker. light breathing, a constant shuffling noise and the scent of… ash? that scent gave it away. the scent of ash, sulfur and a very old dried blood.

scar.

of course it was him. of fucking course it was that damned overseer of the fractsidus. an old enemy, a rival and certainly the very same bastard who had a history of stalking you before.

as much as you wanted to jump out of your bed and strangle the bastard by his throat at this very moment, you held yourself back. grinding your teeth slightly in annoyance and biding your time until a clawed finger pushes back a strand of your hair from your face. that was the perfect moment for you to take action, squeezing your hand as the sound if electrical strings is heard, binding scar in his place and hitting him with a high voltage. throwing the blanket off of yourself, you jump away towards the other side of the bed from where scar was. slow and cautious steps towards where a thud is heard, peeking over the edge of the bed, you see his unconscious body. tied up with electrical cords of your making and zapped unconscious.

“yes, it’s me again. that person who was being stalked and gave a call… yeah. i managed to capture my stalker and he’s currently in my bedroom right now. if you could send a few patrollers or midnight rangers, it would be—“

“aww… getting right of me so soon, darling?” scar speaks up, voice scratchy from the earlier stunt you pulled, shaking his head as he tries to clear away any lingering unconsciousness. he wasn’t sharp enough to notice the trap you laid out for him to step into nor was he strong enough to endure the zap of your electricity. not like he minded. he wanted all the time in the world with you and if being tied up and shocked did the trick, he would have it happen to him all the time. as long as it was you who was doing the shocking.

abruptly ending the call — but managing to get through the main point of your call — you turn towards your captive. that annoying scarred face and the lopsided smile that he always has on his face. how much you wanted to wring out his neck to get rid of that smile.

“you look way too happy for someone who got caught” you say, watching him for any sort of movement. nothing. he was just sitting there, kneeled in your floor like a well trained pet all the while keeping an eye on you with those mismatched, puppy eyes.

“what can i say? i slipped and i’m caught. but are these ropes and strings really necessary, darling? you have another plan for me?” he asks, wiggling his shoulders slightly as his smile grows at the furrow of your brows. yes, get angry, get agitated. he loved to see that expression on your face, that anger, that fire. how he wanted to stoke that little ember in your eyes until it turned into a blazing inferno like his own.

“why don’t you learn to shut up first?”

“why don’t you learn to zap me with just enough voltage to make me squirm?”

dear sentinels, this guy was really getting under your skin. he always did and he still does. that annoying smirk, the constant witty banter and the way he would push your buttons all the while whispering filth into your mind.

“bend me over the desk, darling”, “the couch looking painfully empty and clean”, “my zippers are unlocked, y’know?” all sorts of erotic words and suggestions flow from his lips every time he opens them, painting this image in your mind. of him bent over the counter, a quickie in the corner, hell, he even once suggested you to just tear off his jumpsuit and fuck him to your satisfaction in his domain. no one would see or hear you two, as he coos out, dodging your attacks as a red card burns in his hand.

pushing himself up, he trudges his way towards where you stood at the end of your bed, arms still tied behind his back as he leans in close to you. too close. you could smell the sulfur from him even more distinctly now.

“come on, darling. don’t act so cold with me. you and i have known each other for so long, it’s about time we take our relationship to the next level” he coos out, leaning in closer and closer while you lean away from him. until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, causing you to fall back onto the soft mattress while scar climbs on top of you. cheeky bastard was grinning so smugly, straddling your lap like it was his favorite seat in the world. maybe to him, it was.

“in your wet dreams. there’s no relationship between us except for the times we nearly kill each other. that’s it” you hiss, propping yourself up on your elbows to glare at him. the anger in your eyes and the way you easily disregarded him like he was nothing made scar shiver, his hips moving tantalizingly over your groin like he was trying to seduce you.

“oh darling! how did you know i have wet dreams about you? in fact, one of them was just like this! with you under me and having me all tied up♡︎“ scar coos out, his expression brightening like a puppy who just got his favorite treat. sneaky bastard, twisting your words and using them against you while getting what he was after. you were sure this is what he wanted the most. to allow this to happen, to let himself be under your mercy. it didn't surprise you at all.

though, you would be an idiot to say you didn’t recognize it. the signs of arousal that he emitted. the slight flush of his cheeks, the heavier breathing and the wetness coating his and your pants. bastard was getting turned on. but… so were you.

hesitantly, your hand reached for the zipper of his jumpsuit’s crotch, the area already wet with his slick. scar nearly whined at that, moving around on your lap as if trying to get you to unzip it quickly. getting the hint, you did as he wanted. the zipper opening up slowly, his dripping cunt coming on display for you.

“tsk tsk. so eager to get fucked you’re not gonna bother to wear underwear?” you ask, clicking your tongue as your thumb comes up to circle around his enlarged clit. scar nearly stumbles over, his knees buckling as he thrust his hips, trying to get your fingers inside himself already.

“why… would i need to wear one if i’m going to be visiting you, darling?” the pyromaniac groans when your thumb leave his clit, leaving him dripping and clenching around nothing. but his disappointment is short lived when you push a finger inside him, stretching him open and making him gasp out loud. just a single finger, buried to the second knuckle and he was already whining as he tries to ride your finger to the best of his abilities. if his hands were free, he would have placed them on your shoulders for balance as he bounces himself over your fingers.

alas, that was not the case and scar was forced to make do with his current predicament, grinding himself down onto your finger while you watch him unamused. when he tried to bounce on your finger, it slipped out thanks to the excessive slick coating your finger, making him whine at the loss while his cunt eagerly wait for your finger to be back inside him again.

“aanhg—! gyaah… mgghh♡︎♡︎ ohhh darling, you sure know how to please my cunt♡︎” a choked moan comes from him when you push two fingers inside his gummy walls, prodding and fucking him open. knuckles deep inside, you make a scissoring motion, making his knees feel weak as he sits down on your lap, letting you finger him as much as you wanted. he was thoroughly enjoying himself it seemed, as he grinds his hips back and forth, his soft cunt weeping more and more of his juices as they coat your hand.

“you… you really know how to please a cunt, don’t you, darling? all mmgh—! ah anngh ah ah ahh♡︎♡︎ all deep♡︎ and rough♡︎ f-feels like you’re trying to get me to squ-uuuhncckk♥︎♥︎!!” scar trails off, his cocky words dying in his throat, replaced by a shrill squeal when you zapped his cunt with a low electricity. opening his mouth, the pyromaniac tries to say something again only to get cut off by another high pitched scream when you decided to zap both his cunt and clit at the same time.

“like i said, you really should learn to shut your mouth, scar” you tease him, a pleased grin on your face as you take in the mess he had become on your lap. thin trail off drool on his chin, flushed red and hazy eyed. there were even tears forming in his mismatched eyes, looking like he was about to cry.

“m-make meeehnn♡︎♡︎ make me th-then, darling♥︎!“ scar manages to say, a whiny groan falling from his drool covered lips as your fingers pick up their pace, now easily fucking into his loosened hole. filthy lewd shlap! shlap! shlap! could be heard, the wet noises of his cunt mixing together with his punched out moans, turning into a blend of beautifully filthy noises.

“filthy whore who loves to walk around with his pussy out should learn to hold his tongue” you coo out, mocking him for his jumpsuit style as your fingers curl upwards, searching and finding that one spot that caused him to see stars in his eyes. a sharp gasp falling, his head thrown back as his legs shake like a weak lamb’s while your fingers continue to hit that one spot. pushing your knees up, you allow him to lean back on your knees, arms struggling against the strings and ropes while you continue to abuse that bundle of nerves inside his gummy walls.

“shh-shuttt awghhh unngh up!! shut up, dawrlinnggg—♥︎♥︎!!” scar trails off, a wet, punched out wail coming from him as your free hand pinches at his hardened clit. pinching at the bundle of nerves, your fingers squeeze around it simultaneously as the rough pads of your fingers hit his g-spot, making scar let out delirious noises of pleasure. he was far gone to hold a proper conversation with you and you could see that. the tears that were collecting in his mismatched eyes now falling in fat globs, red and grey eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his legs thrash around on the bed.

“dirty dirty boy, look at yourself. not only making trouble for me with your stalker tendencies but also getting my sheets and clothes dirty” you coo out, the fingers that were pinching at his clit tugging on them slightly. scar let out a loud scream at that, throwing his head back as his legs squeeze around your waist tightly as he comes undone on your fingers. but you weren’t planning to stop anytime to soon. you needed to teach him a lesson to stop bothering you while also letting out the pent up anger that he caused by deciding to be a prick.

“who gave you the permission to cum, you filthy whore” you bite out, the anger and annoyance seeping into your tone as your fingers stretch his cunt open, continuing to push against his sweet spot. scar started to sob, the pleasure being too much, nearly bordering on pain but his masochistic spirit wanted you to keep going and to never stop. he wanted both the pain and the pleasure. anything, anything you gave him, he would gladly take greedily.

“dar—! darling!! dawrlinnn’♡︎ ’m sorry... ’m sorry ’m soo showwryy♡︎♡︎♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be soo baawdd♥︎♥︎” scar sobs out, punched out, whiny moans and shrill squeals making it harder to understand what he was saying, but you managed to catch on. despite his words and his wet apologies, you knew he wouldn’t stop being a nuisance at your side. that was just how scar was. unreadable, maniacal and a pain in your ass. so even if he does walk away from your bedroom today with drunken apologies and trembling legs, you knew he would just come back again the next day, searching for more. especially now since he has gotten the taste of how good your fingers could fuck his dripping cunt open until he cries deliriously.

sobbing out apologies mingled with how your fingers were fucking his pretty pussy until it bruises, scar lets out a weak whine whenever you pinch at his clit harder than usual. the occasional violent jolts and squeals falling whenever you zap his gushing cunny, crying about how mean you were.

“mmghhh… go-gonna cum…! gonna cum again♡︎ aamgh eeck♥︎♥︎ g-gonna cum on your f-fingers againn..! d-darling! darlingdarlingdarlingdarl-iiinngh♥︎!!” babbling incoherently about his rapidly nearing release, scar’s head is thrown back, mouth slack open in a silent scream when you zap both his pussy walls and clit at the same time. legs trembling like a lamb’s, threatening to close if it weren’t for your body between them, his body jolts violently as his gushing cunt squirts out his cum, painting your entire hand and pants with his slick.

fingering him through his high, you withdraw your fingers only after he whines for a break, the mess that he created didn’t exactly bothering him as he leans in to steal a kiss from your lips. a dazed attitude, drunken look in his eyes as he shoots you a lopsided grin, scar leans in to whisper when he would be visiting again next time. and he specifically asked for more than just your fingers. the greedy bastard.

“i’ll see ya’ then, darling♡︎!” before you knew it, he pulled out one of his red cards from his back pocket, opening a portal for himself to escape through just as there comes knocks on your front door.

[cowboy-heart]

'interview with a butch' - a fake interview reflecting on butch-femme dynamics! inspired by the amazing piece by @llovely, which you can read here :)

(ID below read more)

[an original, interview-style poem called 'interview with a butch':

when did you know you were butch? I knew by the time I was sixteen, but that’s only when I found the word. I’ve been butch since the day I was born, at least since I was just a few months old and threw an earth-shattering tantrum whenever my mum tried to put me in a dress. (both laugh) your poor mum!

I remember being a little butch knight, chivalrous even before I was double digits. my best friend only lived up the road from school, but her parents were running late and she was scared to do it herself. so I walked her up the hill, her arm linked in mine, pride balancing on my chest. and when I got her to her door, I said that we should kiss like adults do when they say goodbye, and we took it in turns to kiss each other on each cheek. when I walked home I felt something the size of a boulder in my stomach, but I didn’t know what it meant yet, just that there was something about myself that set me apart.

how did you feel with your first femme? oh, man, even for a writer that’s hard to find the words for. (laugh) let’s put it this way: before I had my first femme, I always felt like something was missing in my relationships – not just in the relationship itself, but in me. I felt broken and wrong, unsatisfied and selfish. I thought that maybe I just had too high expectations or something. hell, even with sex I felt like something was missing, like I couldn’t find my own desire.

But then, then I had my first femme. How graphic can I be here? (laugh) as graphic as you want! okay, good!

watching my stomach hang over my harness, long nails in my hips, I felt like I had a second sexual awakening. I felt the most present in my body I’d ever been, and like I could be in them forever. I didn’t feel dissatisfied, or wrong. when their hand held mine and played with my fingers I felt lightning shoot through me. it was like realising I was a lesbian all over again. but even outside of romance, femmes are my friends, my family, my community. talking to femmes, being around femmes, I’ve never felt so seen and loved. I can handle every sharp look, every slur thrown my way, just because my armour was polished by femmes.

do you find your roles restrictive? they’re liberating. I think sometimes people see me and think that I had to fit into this constrictive box, that I disallowed myself to enjoy anything feminine. the reality is that for butches, we find the word we’ve been searching for our whole lives. I can’t even remember finding the word, isn’t that crazy? it felt second nature. it somehow perfectly described everything I’d ever felt, exposed me to a community of people who were just like me outside of my Tory town! (pause)

I think there’s a tendency even in leftist, LGBT spaces to think that masculinity is oppressive, and femininity is liberating and oppressed. but it’s really not like that. we’re punished for deviating from our assigned gender, whether you’re a masculine woman, or a feminine man, or something in between the two. I’ve had gay men try to convince me to let them do my makeup, I’ve had gay women tell me that they’re “so glad” I don’t have ‘toxic masculinity’ like “other butches”. femininity was a cage for me, something I had to imitate to survive the perils of high school, but it was never me. masculinity liberated me, and it’s not inherently toxic. I love to carry the bags, hold open the doors, cry in pride, protect those I love. and there’s nothing like coming home at the end of the day to a sweet femme, ready to rub my tired muscles. man, I’m not good at concise answers, am I? (both laugh) no, but I love it!

what do you think of people who see your relationship as heteronormative? they’re twats! (both laugh) now, that’s a concise answer! no, no that’s not fair. here’s what I’d say to them:

I see it as…a complex gender performance. no, that makes it sound like it’s play pretend. they’re complex gender…expressions, dynamics, play, desire, euphoria. a butch and a femme together is no more heterosexual than a bear and a twink, a top and a bottom. it’s a dance that we know in our bones, like we knew each other in a previous lifetime and we’re just falling back into our favoured rhythm. even every fumble and awkward gesture is a part of it. we fall into sync and into each other, we tenderise each other’s gender, affirm it, and love every minute of it. we’re not two sides of the same coin, you talk to any butch-femme couple and chances are our priori (edit: interviewee meant propositions) are the same but our conclusions are not; we’re the same side of the same coin, just one is the top of the tail and the other is the bottom of it. is that a euphemism? (laugh) take it as you will!

I’m no man, my femme is no woman, and I’m no less butch when I’m wearing a kiss-the-cook apron and cleaning their kitchen, and they’re no less femme when they’re putting together a shelf or driving me to work. To look at us and see a heteronormative imitation of cisgender predetermination is proof of their own lack of nuance – do you think all dogs are boys and all cats are girls, too? (both laugh)

I think in a lot of ways, butch-femme dynamics are inherently transsexual. or, in the very least, good friends of transgenderism. If you can’t see us for what we are then chances are you’ve got your own internalised gender biases to unlearn.

I’ve always been butch to my bones, but when I’m with my baby I’m on cloud nine. I feel desired, my gender revered and loved.

so, what you’re saying is, you feel seen? I do. we see each other and nurture each other. I’ve never really liked being called ‘beautiful’, but when it falls from the lips of a femme, I know that they’re not seeing me as feminine. I feel most comfortable to explore the depths of both my femininity and masculinity with them; I don’t feel restricted to a role.

maybe that’s what people are missing about it: our homes are temples of gender exploration and devotion.

end ID].

[thinemoonshine]

⋆ ˚｡ 𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇! ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x hyung line genre: fluff type: headcannons word count: 644

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: when (y/n)’s shirt collar is too wide for her frame and ends up slipping off one shoulder without her notice, the hyung line’s protective instincts instantly kick in. especially when they’re doing a live where the comments are either cupcakes and rainbows or the literary form of pandora’s box ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

ᯓ lee heeseung

would probably take a while to notice

but when he does, he’ll probably think nothing of it at first considering you’ve worn off-shoulder clothes for stages before anyways

but then the reality of being on live will strike him and he’ll turn his head to you so quick

might as well snap his neck at it

“your shirt,” he’ll say loud enough for you to hear

in the case you don’t hear him and he’s sitting beside you, he’ll tilt his head down to your face which instantly diverts your attention

bangs swaying over his eyes, he’ll repeat himself

“(y/n), your shirt”

grins when you finally listen and gives a little ruffle of your hair before facing the front again

ᯓ park jongseong

would notice instantly

will probably wait just a bit to let you notice it yourself

you don’t

will be internally tweaking

scratch that, maybe a bit outwardly too

eyes rapidly blinking and jaw tightening because he's worried

sends you a text to tell you about it

but then your phone isn’t around or you don’t notice the message

he’ll clear his throat and turns to you before saying a quiet, “(y/n)…”

you turn and he’ll subtly gesture to his shoulder to which you’ll finally notice your fallen shirt

man’s will be so relieved that it’s blatantly seen from the way his shoulders loosen and drop

comments will be pointing it out, teasing him with little ‘ㅋㅋㅋ’

ᯓ sim jaeyun

brows raised, lips parted and eyes shifting to you through the screen

he’s not the quickest to notice, but not slow either

raking his hair back, he’ll then try to capture your attention

if you’re sitting away from him, he’ll pat whoever it is that sits between you and him— discreetly asking them to relay the message

but if you and him are close enough, he’ll probably nudge you inconspicuously

hesitant at first, unsure if you’re even bothered by the whole ‘accidental off-shoulder’ thing in the first place

maybe you preferred it, he’s uncertain

but he’ll still inform you about

finger gently pokes or hand softly pats your leg with shifty glances to not alarm the viewers

“your shoulder’s, uh, out”

seeing as how you fix it after though, he’ll feel proud of himself that he’d done a good deed and is able to read you well

might even be smiling to himself

ᯓ park sunghoon

side eye

SIDE EYEEEE

you guys know that boom vine sound? yeah, imagine that every time he side eyes (y/n) because he’ll do it—A LOT

he’s shifty. he wants to say something but he doesn’t know how to

after all, you’re sitting away from him- either the other end of the couch, or the floor, or basically anywhere else except for beside him

1 minute passes

BOOM—side eye

another minute—BOOM BOOM—double take

at one point, he’ll get irritated on why no one else is helping you and why you haven’t noticed

his thick brows furrow slightly—not too noticeable for everyone to realize, but neither is it unobtrusive for completely everyone to not notice

then all of a sudden, he stands from his spot and randomly walks in front of his members like he’s heading somewhere

he passes by you and, oh? your collar’s lifted back up to it’s rightful place

you didn’t even see it but you felt it

his hand that grazed delicately yet so swiftly like a flash of lightning

even the camera didn’t catch it— him being agile and skillful enough to do it while walking by thus, concealing his motions with his tall figure

he’ll return to his seat without so much of a glance at you and only turns after a good minute or so

smiles with satisfaction at his successful execution

the fans notice it though, how (y/n)’s collar suddenly shifted the moment he went by

sunghoon magician era?

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[pomefioredove]

Saw you took specific requests. Here's mine:

Jamil with a religious reader who gives him a protection talisman.

Fun fact, prayer beads are used in multiple religions as they help count prayers (Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, etc).

So let's say reader comes from a world where magic exists but it's exclusively on religious grounds. Meaning if you wanna do magic you gotta pray to the right god or make a deal with some form of mythological creature.

Reader knows that Jamil's is always in danger due to the constant assassination attempts on Kalim, so they make a set of prayer beads and ask a diety to bless it in order to protect their boyfriend (could be Allah, Indra, Shiva, Buddha, Susanoo, whichever). Jamil accepts it and heads back home appreciating the sentiment but not really believing.

Except any form of danger keeps getting thwarted. Drink/food he's trying is poisoned? Conveniently spills over/has a whole in the bottom. Accident happens? Conveniently pushed out of the way. Someone tries to hurt him/kill him? Struck by lightning and straight up dies.

Not even his own parents are safe. They try to slap him to "discipline him" then they get zapped (lightly tho).

you know!!! I love this prompt so much... I'm a religious studies major so this kinda stuff is so ^w^ to me I get so excited.

summary: giving jamil a protection spell type of post: short fic characters: jamil additional info: reader is gender neutral, the existence of religious beliefs in twst is. confusing. so we're keeping it vague, not proofread, reader is yuu

Perhaps it was because your world was still considered "magicless" by Twisted Wonderland standards, or perhaps Jamil was never superstitious to begin with.

Either way, he wasn't exactly as excited as you'd been hoping for.

"It's nice. Did you make it yourself?" he asks, inspecting the beads. "A bracelet?"

"Prayer beads, actually. And yes, I did,"

"It's well made. What's the purpose?"

You hesitate. The nature of religion in this world is still confusing to you, although you can surmise there's got to be some kind of belief system. It's best not touching on for now.

Besides, Jamil has never been much of a believer in higher powers. For good reason.

"For protection," you explain. "Not that I think you can't handle yourself. But I worry about you over break, you know..."

He's quiet for a moment, inspecting the gift in the palm of his hand. And then he tucks the beads away in his pocket and smiles.

"I'll keep them with me, then. Thank you,"

Even if he's not exactly keen on the idea that these things will make his life any less terrible, they're from you.

And so he keeps his promise, and tucks them away after you part.

By the time he's "home" (back in Kalim's family home) he's all but forgotten about the little blessing at the bottom of his pocket. Not that you can really blame him- "vacation" is more of a title than a reality when he's back.

The first incident happens not even a day after.

The al-Asim summer mansion is certainly nothing to scoff at. Though it's only one of many, this one in particular houses a large sum of physical treasures, line with gold and ivory, stuffed full of spices and all the makings of a feast that could feed thousands, a shining jewel of the desert.

Jamil is not all that impressed.

Especially when it comes to navigating such an ornate building on orders. The polished-to-perfection floors present a challenge when you're carrying three crates worth of grain to the kitchen on the lowest floor.

Damn these stairs.

Though Jamil may not be a religious man, he still asks whatever deity may be up there to smite the slippery spiral staircase he's descending.

His arms strain to uphold the weight of the boxes, and his legs strain to keep a good footing on one of the many long and elaborate and narrow servant passages designed specifically so that the unwanted workers of the family can slip by undetected.

Quiet, diligent, and he has to be quick, too. Kalim is expecting him for a game in one of the many lounges soon.

Another unfortunate "vacation". How he'd much rather be spending it with you...

For a brief moment, Jamil swears he can feel the beads in his pocket warm against him, reminding him of their presence.

And then he slips.

The crates free themselves from his careful grasp and tumble down the stairs, creaking and thudding but mercifully staying intact.

Jamil, however, isn't made of wood. He winces as he feels himself tilting forward- and then... somehow, a strong draft pushes him on his back.

He lands just shy of his tailbone, luckily not hurting anything, except for his pride.

What a turn of luck.

The next happens at dinner.

Jamil keeps his earlier blunder to himself. His pride is damaged enough as it is, after all, and so he tries his best to conceal how shaken up the experience left him by moving swiftly across the kitchen.

"We have a dish ready for you to test," someone shouts.

He sighs. How many more evenings of this will he have to endure?

Though, he reminds himself- this may always be his last.

The thought makes Jamil chuckle as he's handed a hot dish and a clean fork. He can only stop to smell the roses for so long, so there's no chance of savoring such an exquisitely prepared meal before he's off to another part of the kitchen.

Just as the fork digs into the food, the dish slips out of his hand and shatters on the kitchen floor. Everyone falls silent.

His eyes widen. "How- ugh. My apologies,"

Now this is just getting ridiculous. How clumsy can he get in one evening? He's usually much more careful...

"Look," the head chef says, the whole kitchen crowding around the food as it dissolves.

Jamil's stomach lurches. Cyanide. It has to be. If he'd eaten that dish right there and then...

The kitchen is swiftly cleared out, and he's sent back to the lounge.

it only gets stranger from there.

What Jamil initially wrote off as clumsiness and luck seems to become a pattern-

a flying arrow at the archery range just narrowly misses him when he bends down to fix his sandal.

The al-Asim family tiger (because of course they have one) chooses to toy with a visiting prince rather than him in the courtyard.

A strong draft pushes him on his rear end seconds before a sandbag falls from an under-construction part of the mansion.

He would call it fortune if he believed in such a thing.

By the end of the vacation, everyone is absolutely perplexed by his string of good luck. Jamil isn't unfamiliar with how dangerous his family's position in life is, and he's had his fair share of injuries as a result, but this time all he has to show for it is a slightly lesser sense of annoyance than usual.

It's only the end of the trip where he ponders (unfortunately aloud) about the string of coincidences, and the beads in his pocket.

Kalim goes on to babble about Jamil's "good luck charm" to anyone who will listen, much to his annoyance.

"Oh, I want one too! Can you ask them to make me one, too?" he says, folding his hands in a pleading motion. "It's so pretty!"

"It was a gift. But... I suppose I can ask..." he sighs, and then smiles to himself.

Of course you'll come up with some excuse to say no. Because, for once, this charm is all his.

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter IV: The Prophecy

“Hand on the throttle. Thought I caught lightning in a bottle, oh– But it's gone again.”

series masterlist previous chapter

pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.) series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life. cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses, and touches but no smut (yet…maybe); Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence. wc: 2.5k of conversation and world-building

The drive back to the university was nearly silent, with only the hum of the engine and the rhythmic tap of the rain breaking the tension that still hung in the air from Spencer’s outburst. When they finally arrived home, an unmarked car with government plates was waiting for them.

With a sigh, Y/N moved to open her door, only stopping when Spencer reached out, taking her hand in his. “Wait—” His voice was soft and timid, melting a part of her soul. Her gaze shifted from the waiting officer to Spencer. He cleared his throat, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m really sorry that I snapped at you. We were having a great night, and I hate that I might’ve made you feel unsafe in my company…”

Y/N’s brows knit together as she shook her head, turning to better face Spencer. Her free hand cupped his cheek as she leaned in, her nose brushing gently against his before their lips connected. “Hey…I could never feel unsafe with you, okay? I understand it’s the job, it’s tough, and it can get to you…but we’ll figure it out. We’re in this together…till death do us part or whatever.” She teased, desperately trying to lighten Spencer’s somber mood.

He chuckled, nodding his head gently against hers. “Yeah…okay.” He kissed her quickly before letting her hand fall away, getting out of the car, and rushing to grab her door for her.

The pair looked a sight—clothes still dampened from their frolicking in the rain, wild curls, and kiss-bruised lips. They looked more like a pair of high schoolers than professionals.

“Looks like you two had a good night,” the agent called, slamming his car door. He looked annoyed, or maybe that was just his face, Y/N thought, observing the new file box securely under one of his arms. “The press finally caught wind of this one; it’ll be all over the 11 o’clock news if you two are too busy…socializing.”

The agent smirked, his eyes raking over Y/N’s body, catching the way her dress clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

“I’m going to need you to apologize—” Spencer started, taking a protective step in front of Y/N. She had to admit, the role of husband looked good on him. Her hand gently gripped his bicep, trying desperately to ground him. “Spence—” Her warning tone begged him to stop.

“Come on, bro, be serious. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I mean, good for you, honestly, bagging a newer model?” The agent threw Spencer a wink.

“Newer model—?” Spencer’s brows shot up in disbelief as Y/N snapped, her brows knitting together. Her feet carried her towards the agent, and her fist connected hard with his jaw before she even had time to register what she was doing. She snatched the box and stormed into the house.

“And I look unstable—

Gathered with a coven round a sorceress table.”

“Em, sorry, I punched him. If you get a call saying that one of your agents punched Agent Asshat or whatever his name was, I take full responsibility. Go ahead and write me up.”

Y/N all but yelled into the phone sitting in the middle of the table, a very tired Emily Prentiss on the other end.

There was a muffled yawn from the other end. “Did he deserve it?”

Y/N sighed, “Well—”

“Yes,” Spencer cut her off, returning from the kitchen with a makeshift bag of ice for her hand. “We may have looked less than professional, but that doesn’t excuse his blatant misogyny, nor the way he was practically eye-fucking Y/N on our front lawn.” He huffed, sinking onto the sofa.

“Sounds like he deserved it…” Much to Y/N’s surprise, Emily didn’t sound upset. If anything, their unit chief sounded amused.

“Should’ve seen it, Emily. She would’ve made Morgan proud. I think she might’ve broken his nose,” Spencer chuckled, glancing over at his literal blushing bride with a cheeky grin.

Prentiss laughed. “I don’t condone violence…but good on you, kid. I’ll let you know if I receive that call, but if he’s the jack-off you’ve made him out to be, I doubt he’ll admit to his superiors that a woman broke his nose. Regardless, I won't be writing you up for this.” There was a brief pause, the sound of shuffling papers and drawers closing on Emily’s end. The time difference between Seattle and the District meant it was past midnight.

“You should go home, get some rest, Em. We’ll look over the newest crime scene photos and see if anything stands out. If it does, we’ll let you know. The agent made the comment that the press had the story…so we’ll keep an eye on that as well…”

Emily, ever the workhorse, sighed. “Fine…I’m going to head out of the office now, but as always, call me if you need me or if there are any urgent developments.”

“Have a good night, Em…” Spencer sighed, his head lulling back against the cushion as the line went dead. “How’s your hand?” he muttered quietly as he started unpacking the newest box of evidence onto their coffee table.

“It hurts…” she shrugged, flexing her fingers under the ice pack, “but I hope his face hurts more.”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gazed at Y/N with pure admiration and pride. “Angel, I genuinely think you might’ve broken that idiot’s nose. I can almost—actually, no, statistically, I can guarantee his face will be hurting for a while, especially right now.”

“Pad around when I get home— I guess a lesser person would’ve lost hope.”

The night slipped by, the story was run, and the case stayed the same— unsolved. Nothing particularly groundbreaking was found at the crime scenes, and the MO and victimology were painfully consistent, which left little for Spencer or Y/N to analyze. It was driving Spencer crazy, how after nearly twenty years with the BAU, he found himself genuinely stumped.

In the coming days, everything suddenly became real. After their date, their kiss—it wasn’t just a cover story anymore. Spencer and Y/N no longer felt like characters in a tragic play. They were a couple, who kissed and held hands, who slept in the same bed and talked about their days.

Days turned to weeks, and before they knew it, August had slipped away like a bottle of wine. As the leaves began to change, the lines between reality and their cover began to blur. 

For the first time in a long time, Spencer was happy, and content in a life he had always imagined for himself—a wife, a home, a steady schedule. None of it was real, but if only for a moment, it was real to him. His classes ran smoothly, with students who weren’t just there because he had a pretty face—they cared, and it was groundbreaking. The university had even given him a TA to hopefully lighten his workload. She was sweet, not much older than Y/N, but working on a doctoral thesis in his field of expertise. All the pieces of this illusion had fallen perfectly into place.

"Still, I dream of her…"

Spencer woke with a start. He hadn’t had that particular nightmare in years, not since his brain had nearly bled out all those years ago, not since he saw Maeve that one last time. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, his hands blindly searching for Y/N in the bed beside him… and then there she was, groggily furrowing her brows.

She wasn’t lying next to a psychopath in a pool of blood, cold and lifeless at his feet. She was in his bed, in his arms even, tangled in the sheets.

Memories and flashes of that night with Maeve, with Diane—the way she’d touched him, the way Maeve had looked. The cases were different, yes, but something felt very familiar to him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed, padding into the living room where the coffee table had been overrun by evidence from the newest murder. The body count was up to eight now, four couples, and the press was having a field day with this; they’d named the unsub The Albatross.

“Cautions issued, he stood shooting the messenger. They tried to warn him about her.”

The words danced across his mind, echoing in his ears as Spencer sat on the sofa, his eyes searching the crime scene photos desperately. The MO had shifted with the latest couple; the once precisely slit throats were no more, instead replaced by a single shot through the heart. The couple themselves were the same—an older man and a younger woman. However, with this couple, there had been an incident—a fatal shooting years back involving a stalker. Spencer shuddered at that information, his stomach twisting as he read the original case report.

“Shooting the messenger…” he scoffed, tossing the note back into the pile of evidence. He sat back, his head lolling tiredly against the back of the sofa as his mind worked overtime, assessing the words on the page as well as the previous notes left behind, trying to find any connection, any story or reason to the cryptic poem.

“What’re you doing up…?” Y/N’s sleepy voice caught him off guard. He turned to glance behind him at the half-asleep woman leaning against the hallway wall. “Rolled over and you weren’t there…” Y/N mumbled, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep…” he shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he’d been sleeping just fine—except for the haunting nightmare. He opened his arms for the younger woman, beckoning her to come and sit beside him on the couch. He needed to hold her, to know that she was real, but he wasn’t quite ready to get back in their bed just yet.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Y/N shuffled over, flopping down beside Spencer on the couch, her blurry eyes scanning the photos from the crime scene. She’d seen them earlier before they had inevitably decided to call it a night, but now, something she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye.

Without hesitation, she leaned forward, snatching up the evidence bag that held the latest note, her brow furrowing as she examined the reddish-brown splotches near the edge of the page. 

“Is that blood?” she asked, glancing back at Spencer as she handed it to him.

He stared blankly at the mess for a moment before reaching out for an evidence bag that held yet another cryptic poem—though this one was different—if only because he was fairly certain the unsub’s blood had dripped onto it, considering that when the lab had run it, there was no match to any victim. 

"Poisoned blood from the wound of the pricked hand."

“Oh—” Y/N shook her head, looking over the victim's hands…not a drop of blood.

“If it’s not from the victim, it’s sloppy…why not start over, why leave a trace behind?” she said softly, fighting a yawn as Spencer nodded slowly. 

“It’s almost like she's giving us a clue—”

“She?” Spencer asked, raising a brow. Dr. Spencer Reid was the king of picking out a female unsub, usually long before anyone else on their team. What had she seen that he’d missed? “How do you know it’s a woman? What stands out to you?” Spencer asked, leaning forward on the couch, observing the mess of case photos.

“Well, up until this last set…the husbands' throats are slit, and these notes are placed in their left palms. It’s brutal, but there’s an art to it.” She hummed, sinking back into the plush cushions of the sofa. “The wives, on the other hand, are laid out peacefully in bed with an albatross feather in their hands. It shows remorse—after the fact, the unsub is giving the women the respect that’s deserved…it's a different kind of death for the women."

“Okay, and what do you think the notes signify?” Spencer encouraged, slipping into teacher mode as his own mind raced a million miles a minute, putting together all of the points she’d made against the profile he’d been building in his mind.

“Well, they’ve always been in the left hand…ancient beliefs said the left hand was feminine, while the right was masculine. Other ancient stories point to your left hand being bad luck…which clearly…” she motioned to the gruesome photos before them with a sigh. “In some literary works, the left side symbolizes decay…death.”

Spencer nodded along. He’d already reached his conclusion, put the puzzle together, and built his profile. Now he was left to guide her, wait, and see if the younger agent would find her way to the same conclusion.

“Why slit their throats?” he asked softly, his eyes trained on the younger woman’s features, carefully analyzing every micro-expression he could find.

“Obviously, our unsub believes the husbands took something significant from their wives. The way our unsub is slitting their throats leads me to believe that she thinks it’s their voices or possibly their autonomy…I mean, we’re dealing with older men… I mean, it’s the history of man, right? To use women? Take something so simple but vital,” she said thoughtfully. “But it’s the albatross feather in the woman’s hand…such a heavy symbol, and you said before that the bird is associated with burden and guilt. It feels like the unsub is trying to release the wives from any guilt she believes they’re enduring…she’s just setting them free.”

Spencer nodded. “And this tells you what about our unsub?”

Y/N paused for a moment, thinking over the details before offering Spencer a small shrug and a heavy sigh, “Well, I would say that our unsub is a woman, and these men are surrogates…but she identifies with the wives and feels a need to avenge them.” She glanced up to meet Spencer’s eyes, desperate for the approval of the older agent, which he gave with a small nod, so she continued, “The careful way she arranges their bodies shows she has a sense of empathy… she sees herself in these women.”

“Exactly,” Spencer said with a warm smile. “Why do you think she targets older husbands?”

“She probably has a history with an older man—someone who dominated her or took away her voice. This is her way of reclaiming her power and avenging the other women she sees as victims.” Her voice trailed off, her eyes fluttering between Spencer’s eyes and his lips, as he leaned in to gently press a kiss to her forehead.

“Right…you are one hundred percent correct,” he sighed softly, his eyes raking over her delicate albeit exhausted frame with a frown. “And fortunately for us, this case will still be here when we wake up. Come on, let's get you back to bed…”

With a soft yawn, Y/N nodded, slowly rising to her feet, her hand outstretched for Spencer.

“Come on.”

"But I look to the sky and say

please…"

taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts @purple-flower9 @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome @torturedpoetspsychward @skewedcherries @jackchampiongf13 @bouquetolegoflowers @pleasantwitchgarden @conrad4life13 @jdjwjdjjd @lilyn1909 @liquormoneysex @lynlin379 @imgublergirl

I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! So sorry this took so damn long

xo

[jazzymarie1006]

Just Re-watched the X-Men Evolution episode "African Storm" & realized something about Wolverine's scenes in it.

If you saw this post earlier, that was my bad, posted it by accident

We all know the scene when Ororo wakes up screaming and Logan comes running into her room. Still so very great. No words, just immediate action!

As he goes to her balcony, the claws are OUT! He's ready to attack anyone who caused her distress.

After Logan sees noting and responds with such to Charles, he reassures Kitty that everything's fine (which he would regret later).

When Storm is taken by Hungan and the other tribesmen, Wolverine decides to not wait for the others after getting her location, despite Evan (mostly likely) telling them that there was more the one person involved from what he saw. Going in alone is NOT the move, my guy! He REALLY wanted to get Ororo back!!

This decision leads to him to nearly attacking Nerombo, who tried to help Storm. Logan, we know you wanna save her, just calm down abit!

After everyone starts getting active in battle, Wolverine leads Spyke to the small box Storm was trapped in. After rushing to it, they don't see her in there.

This of course has Wolverine LIVID! When Hungan says they're too late, he let's out such a loud scream before rushing up to where Hungan is...

Only to get up there and IMMEDIATELY ease up when he sees Storm! My guy, GET READY TO DODGE!

This man really just stood there with his mouth open as she CHARGED AN ATTACK! While she was still flying up, he could've moved out the way, but NOPE! Just stare at the Wonderful Weather Witch!

Then he gets blasted by lightning and takes massive fall damage! Shouldn't have been gawking my guy

Basically, after being unable to protect Ororo and dismissing the then unknown situation, Logan tries his hardest to save her and make up for that.

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 10

Yes, ladies and gents and non-binary readers alike, the long awaited final part to A Mess has arrived. I’ve had this written for months and honestly thought I posted it already, so forgive the wait. I’m just a 23 year old teenage girl.

ANYWAYS, the polls for the contents of this final part resulted in:

More smut

Post Terminus / Pre Alexandria setting

The relationship becoming officially established & public

ANNNDDD a sequel series which is in the works ❤️‍🔥

18+ MDNI || Warnings: smut (male receiving oral, fingering, mild grinding), TWD typical stuff

      The days seemed to drag on the way they did after Shane died. You felt like an old paintbrush dragging across a desolate canvas, leaving a trail of splotchy grays and bloody smears, painting your surroundings to mimic the twisted feelings of turmoil inside you. The prison was gone and so many were lost. Beth was dead. So were Bob and Tyreese. At least Carol was back.

        You struggled to find anything to be grateful for, anymore. Sure, you narrowly escaped the hungry bellies of the cannibals at Terminus, and sure you were still alive, but were you really living? Was dragging the worn boots Daryl had gifted you when life was more forgiving across cracked asphault while your stomach gnawed away at your insides really any kind of life? Sometimes you wondered what you pressed on for. Especially with Daryl so reserved and closed off like he was. The loss of Beth had done something to him that you couldn't fully relate to because you weren't with Beth after the prison, you escaped with Glenn and found yourself locked away in a dark train car by the time you finally reunited with Daryl.

        He had formed a sort of connection with her, something pure and protective, something that was shattered right before his eyes with a single gunshot. 

        You wished he'd just talk to you. Or touch you. Or even look at you. Was he so miserable he lost all interest? Surely not. He loved you. He told you so, the day he wound up in that train car with you.

        You shielded your eyes as a bright light filled the dark box that confined you. You were sure they were coming to finally kill you off or whatever it was they planned to do with you. 

        You had sustained an injury to your head in the struggle to round you all up, so you were admittedly out of it. It wasn't until you felt rough hands around your cheeks and heard the panic and relief in his voice that you really registered what was going on.

        "(Y/N)." He breathed as he planted a rough kiss on your forehead then your lips. "I thought you were dead. I love ya, ya hear me? I fuckin' love you."

        You may not have remembered much from your concussed state, and he may have never said it again, but that was a memory you held onto with every last bit of your strength. He loved you.  

        You knew he just needed some time, but you also knew you needed him. You were slipping away; losing hope. A simple touch could have made the difference of life or death for you at that point. 

        Then, it rained. It was welcome. Your dry cracked lips, burning throat, and aching organs were brought back to life as you caught the droplets on your tongue. When the thunder rumbled, Daryl urged you all to an old barn he had found off on his own. He did that often; going off on his own.

        The night was loud and it was hard to find any rest. The wind slapped the weathered wooden walls and seemingly shook the ground. The thunder was loud and frequent, bright flashes infiltrating the cracks and openings as the lightning grew closer. You tossed and turned a lot, only to eventually sit yourself up and rub your eyes. You jumped when your eyes readjusted to the darkness to see a looming figure before you.

        "Hey." He whispered. You blinked.

        "Hey." You whispered back. He stepped over and sat down beside you.

        "Y'alright?"  He asked.

        "Can't sleep." You shrugged, not looking at him.

        "Mm." He nodded. "Other than that."

        "Just... tired." Was all you managed. There wasn't enough time in a day -- or sleepless night -- to go through and examine your emotions enough to lay them all out flat for him. Plus, that was never really his strong suit. You two showed each other how you felt in place of saying it. You always had. Which was another reason it hurt you so bad for him to pull away. You knew if he was done with what you had, he'd never say it. He'd just let you figure it out on your own, and you'd never really know why.

        "That ain't it." He pointed out. "But it's okay. I know I ain't been much for talkin' lately. You don't gotta be, either."

        You were lost for words. Was this an attempt at letting you back in? At being close to you?

        "Anyway, I, uh.." He cleared his throat and glanced around, scanning through the dim light of the dying fire to ensure he hadn't woken anyone. "I just miss ya, is all."

        "Oh." You nodded. "Yeah. Me too." 

        "Look, I just needed to figure it out, ya know? Let myself feel it." He persisted. "After Beth... After everything, I just couldn't let myself. But now I did, and I need to say sorry."

        "I just didn't know if..."

        "Nah." He cut you off. "That wasn't on you. That was me. 'N' I'm sorry." 

        "It's okay." You placed a gentle hand on his knee. "I get it."

        Some moments passed in silence as you both felt devoid of anything to say. He cleared his throat again.

        "Can I stay with you?" He asked.

        "Yeah. Of course." You half smiled, even though he probably couldn't see. You shuffled over to a bed of old hay where you had laid out a jacket.

        He laid down, propping his arm under his head in place of a pillow, and your crawled down beside him, curling up into his side and taking a breath. He was ripe with a lack of access to hygiene, but then again, so were you, so you decided to enjoy the musk as a byproduct of his closeness.

        The longer you lay awake, feeling the warmth of his body, the more it hit you just how bad you needed him in such trying times. You realized then, more than ever, how bad you were craving his touch, his scent, his voice, his taste.

        You popped your head up and looked up at his face. It was shadowy and dark but you’d recognize his features in total darkness. He glanced down at you with a softness, wondering what you were about to  say.

         However, ‘saying’ wasn’t on your agenda. No, it was much more of a ‘doing’ that you had planned. 

         You stretched your neck out to kiss him on the jaw as his hand rested contently on the back of your head. He thought you were just being affectionate in the way that girlfriends did when they missed their man, and you were, but you had other things planned, too. As your lips planted little kisses along his jawline until they met his own, he relaxed into the semi-comfortable bed of hay. He figured whatever you were doing, was just your way of telling him you missed him. After all, you two always showed what you felt, and rarely said it. 

        When your lips met his you quietly climbed over top of him, straddling him as you depend the kiss. The more you touched him, the deeper you felt his absence since Grady. 

        You broke away for a breath and littered more sloppy kisses over his cheeks and neck, stopping somewhere in between to nibble at his earlobe. He groaned quietly under the weight of you and your affections, hoping you’d stop whatever you were doing soon, as the aching member in his jeans was already begging to be touched. Unfortunately, there was no end in sight to your erotic touches. As you shifted, your own wet heat glided over the bulge in his pants, and you realized you were succeeding in your mission. 

        You were downright needy for him, breathy whines escaping you as you grounded against him, rubbing your flat hands over his chest with hunger, catching his lips in yours between sucking and nibbling at the flesh of his neck. His hands gripped your thighs as you got hotter and hornier, quickly realizing he wasn’t getting out of this one. 

        When you pulled back again, flushed and sweaty already, you could barely see the glisten in his eyes as he stared back at you. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear; “Quiet, okay?” 

        He nodded once and you slowly slid down until your face was level with his waist. Slowly, silent as you could manage, you unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and wiggled them down his thighs. He let out a small breath when you rigged his boxers down, cold air hitting his bare flesh. With one last glance up at his face, you smirked and turned your attention to his tip, gently licking and planting wet kisses all around it. 

        A pleasant “agh” escaped him, prompting you to take it a step further. You wrapped your juicy lips around his tip and slowly lowered yourself, bobbing up and down with no sense of haste. He tried desperately to suppress any vocalizations that may have been at bay, fearful he’d wake someone, especially Carl or baby Jude.

        It was painfully slow, the way you’d take him in further every so often, and when you finally met the base of him, he couldn’t suppress the groan. You quickly glanced around for any stirring bodies, and continued when you found none. Slow like a snail, gliding your lips and tongue up and down his length, hollowing out your cheeks to create a vacuum. You wanted him to understand what he was missing, what kind of bliss you could give him. You wanted him to feel your absence when he wasn’t around, just like you did his.

        Soon enough he was throbbing in your mouth, his hips uncontrollably jerking. He was close. You debated whether or not to take it all the way or leave him begging for more. You opted to give him some relief, given the miserable circumstances of your lives. 

        You took all of him at once, his load spilling into the back of your throat and dripping down. You stayed like that for a moment, barely bobbing back and forth, allowing him to ride his high and come back down. 

        You wiped your mouth and grinned at him as you pulled away. With your help, he shimmied his pants back up and secured the button. You took your place beside him once again, snuggling up close, your head rested between his chest and shoulder. 

        He took a few minutes to recover before he used two fingers to guide your jaw up so he could place a gentle kiss on your swollen lips. He moved his kissed over your cheek and to your ear and whispered, “Quiet, okay?”

        You bit your lip and smiled as he carefully slid his fingers in your jeans and traced one across your slit, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. Deciding his big hand wouldn’t have enough room in your buttoned jeans, he went ahead and unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down to allow more movement. 

        With that out of the way, he could work delicately on your sweet spots, gently dragging his finger up and down your slit to get it nice and wet. All the while, you were biting down on your lip trying to keep quiet. He noticed the way your hips with try to follow his finger when it moved up. You wanted him inside you, so he’d give it to you. 

        He slid his middle finger inside you and pumped it in and out a few times, laying a free hand over your mouth to make sure your sounds could be muffled. Your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his calloused skin massaging your insides, effortlessly finding that one spot that made you weak. His thumb found your clit as he fingered you, rubbing little circles, eliciting a small moan. He paused and gave you a look, reminding you where you were. You nodded, letting him know you understood, and he continued. A trembling breath released from your nose, his other hand still over your mouth, as he slipped a second finger inside and continued massaging your g-spot and rubbing your clit.

        As he settled into a rhythm, your body responded. You rocked your hips with his movements, communicating to him to keep up what he was doing. He understood. He always understood you.

        In no time at all, all that pent up frustration and aches for his touch finally heated to a boiling point, and you spilled over. Your body and voice trembled as you shook and rode your orgasm on his fingers. When your body calmed and you flinched at his touch, he pulled his hand away and buttoned you back up. He relaxed again, triumphant this time, and you curled up close to him and drifted to sleep in an instant. 

        Daryl was the first to wake the next morning, but given your position sprawled across him, you were quick to get up with him. The two of you went outside to assess the storm damage. Trees had fallen in the night, narrowly missing the barn itself. You made small talk as you wandered the area, occasionally taking out a stray walker. When you went back inside, hand in hand, the rest of the group was awake and shuffling around. Maggie was the first to notice the way Daryl held your hand so casually, then Sasha, then Glenn and the rest. Nobody knew what to say, but they all stared and exchanged glances amongst each other. Daryl shifted a tad, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but he braved his anxieties and stood firmly beside you. He cleared his throat. 

         “Damage is pretty bad out there. ‘S a miracle then damn trees didn’t fall right on us.” He said.

        “Huh.” Rick hummed, nodding, still perplexed. He nodded down at your hand entwined with Daryl’s and raised his eyebrows. 

        “Oh.” Daryl shrugged, holding your hands up and looking down at them. He realized the two do you never really established a relationship, especially not completely openly. He figured the way he told you he loved you back in that train car at Terminus would have been a dead giveaway, but tensions were high back then. Maybe it went unnoticed. He shrugged again. “Yeah.” 

        You stifled a laugh and shook your head. Your family all smirked and smiled sweetly, but didn’t press further, save for Carol, who spoke in a ‘told you so’ kind of tone. “It’s about time you two quit playing footsies and took things to the next level.” 

Masterlist // Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

[khaire-traveler]

Baneful Magic Masterpost

***I understand that cursing is a controversial topic for some people. I don't believe in the threefold's law or whatnot, so such things aren't a concern for me. I do, however, advise you to only curse someone who truly deserves it. Curses are meant to be permanent and difficult to break, while hexes aren't nearly as potent. Do with that knowledge what you will. Intense spells will be marked with "***".***

Curses (long-term, usually permanent)

"Supernatural Soul Eater" curse***

"Gentle Curse" curse

"Hekatean Witchcraft Curse" curse

"From This Pain, I Will Rise" curse

"Blood Rain" tied with protection↓***

"Curse For Protection" tied with blood rain↑***

"Drown In Your Horrors" curse

"To Sink A Sailor" curse

"Curses For Empathy" curse

"My Pain To Yours" curse

"Beauty & The Beast" curse

"Your Joy Will Turn To Ashes" curse***

"Your True Nature Revealed" curse

"Releasing The Hounds" curse***

"The Curse Of Arrows" curse

"Lollipop Curse" curse

"Anon Hate" curse

"Sickness Killer" curse (DOES NOT REPLACE MEDICAL HELP)

"A Bellyful Of Stones" curse

"Bind & Break" curse***

"Forget Me Not" curse

"Did You Miss Me?" curse***

"Dragon Fire" curse

"Red Heart" curse

"Headless Horseman" curse

"Only A Memory" curse

"Hurricane Curse" curse***

"Let Loose Your Crimson Arrow" curse

"Hypnotic Flame" curse

"Drown In Your Guilt" curse***

"Stomp Out The Bastard" curse

"Duress" curse

"Essence Extraction" curse

"Red In Your Ledger" curse

"Sin Collector" curse

"The Ferryman's Curse" curse

"An Ancient Greek Curse" curse

"Knitting Curse" curse

Hexes (short-term, usually temporary)

"The Seven Stings" hex

"The Lemon Hex" hex

"Coffin Hex" hex***

"Curse Alternative" hex

"Hex Bramble" hex

"Black-Out" hex

"Burse Your Bubble" hex

"Year Long" hex***

"Ants Nest" hex

"By All Means, Panty Away" hex

"Hazy Smog" hex

"Hexing In A Pinch" hex

"Hexball" hex

"Revenge On Cheaters" hex

"Frostburn" hex

"Mess With A Witch" hex***

"Bring About Consequences" hex

"Riddle Of Lightning" hex

Jars, Charms, & Pouches

"Jar Of Consequences" jar hex

"Feel The Pain You've Caused Me" sigil

"To Banish & Bind: For Abusers" jar curse

"Wither & Rot" jar curse***

"Your Hatred Is Your Own" jar curse

"Revenge Curse Cage" jar curse***

"Box Of Terror" box curse***

"Catcall Hex Stone" hex charm

"Begone Neighbors" jar hex

"All Purpose Curse Powder" curse powder

Removals, Reversals, & Protection

"Curse Removal & Reversal" removal, reversal

"The Healing Pool: Cursebreaker" removal

"Mild & Spicy Cursebreaker Powders" removal

"To Stop Someone From Casting On You" prevention

"Return To Sender Spells" reversal

"Curse Removing Wash" removal

"To Reverse A Spell" reversal

"Curse Removal/Protection" removal, prevention

"Decoy For Protection Purposes" prevention

"Protection From Curses" prevention

"Curse Decoy" prevention

"Substitute Spell" prevention

"Witch Bottle" prevention

"Blackthorn Reversing Spell" reversal

"Break A Curse Candle Spell" removal

"Curse-breaking, Purifying, Protective Witch Jar" prevention, removal

"To Destroy A Curse" removal

"Hex & Curse-breaking" removal

"Hex-breaker Candle" removal

Information

"Curses vs. Hexes: What's The Difference?" info

"So You Think You've Been Cursed" info

"Object Cursing" info

"Jinxes, Hexes, & Curses" info & spells

"Lessons Learnt From A Hex" info

"Curse Correspondences" info

"Cursing101" info

"So You Just Did A Big Curse...Now What?" info

"Foxen's List Of Baneful Ingredients" info

"Nasty Shit To Put In Curse Jars" info

"Something To Consider Before You Curse" info

"Taglocks" info

[zhejiangleihaoelectric]

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 6: Burn Out

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: When things get ahead of you, your powers aren’t the only things to spill over; some truth is ready to breach the surface.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, minor injuries, self-doubt, over-training, loss of control and... awkwardness

a/n: this could have been two chapters, and I did think about it, but fuck it, you guys deserve a nice hefty update! this just means there's a fair bit of development ahead...

“At least Namjoon didn’t blow out any of the lightbulbs. Those are a nightmare to replace.”

Jimin smiled weakly when you didn’t respond to his joke. His worried gaze travelled to V, who stood behind you. He shrugged.

With a sigh, Jimin sat back. You hadn’t looked him in the eye as he checked your wounds, too caught up thinking. About the ways Jungkook was stronger than you. The ways you messed up. If only you had more stamina, if only you could shoot quicker, use more power.

The fight replayed in your head, displaying all the moments you could have responded better.

Was Jungkook right? Were you anywhere near ready to go out there?

“All done.”

You blinked, finding Jimin staring back at you. How long had he been waiting?

“Oh. Thanks,” you tried your best to muster a smile.

Sending you a smile in return, he stood up, placing the first aid box into the cupboard.

“It’s alright. At least you got out relatively unscathed,” he said, “just some bruises, a couple of singes here and there.”

He winced again at the sight of the faint bruising on your neck. Though he wished he could say this wasn’t like the Jungkook he knew, he would be lying.

Jungkook hurt people all the time: all of them did. But here, at home, he was usually at ease with their little family. After everything he had been through, however, Jimin knew very well how short his youngest brother’s fuse could be.

A quiet click announced the newcomer as Hobi poked his head round the bathroom door.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

It fell a little awkwardly in the space. Nothing was alright after tensions had boiled over so violently just half an hour ago, and you all knew it. Still, you gave him a nod.

Slipping into the room, Hope leaned against the counter, dodging out of the way as Jimin threw a few band-aid wrappers in the bin.

“Sorry about Jungkook,” Hope began, “he… he’s a bit protective. But we thought it would get better. It should never have got this far.

“You can do whatever you want today, get food and watch movies. I should think Kook will be training for quite a while.”

The way he said that left no doubt as to what the younger was actually doing. Images from his rage workout the other day invaded your head. Good, as long as he was away from you.

Tugging your hoodie back on to cover the bruises you had acquired, you agreed and followed the others to the living room. Soon taking up residency on the couch, you didn’t intend on moving anywhere soon.

Thankfully, the others didn’t expect you to either. Nor did they push you for conversation when you were so evidently staying quiet, and instead they put a film on and chatted around you.

You didn’t see Jungkook that whole day.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t lingering in your mind, though. At the very least, the slight discomfort from the bruises he had given you served as a reminder of everything that had transpired. But your frustration fluctuated between him and yourself.

If Jungkook’s behaviour could be excused as protective, you were going to need a lot more explanation than that. What reason had you given him to hate you so much?

He hadn’t given you the chance to do anything but fail since you got there, so how could you be expected to trust him?

But while you wanted him to see that you could be trusted, you started to doubt that yourself. Maybe you were trying to help the boys by joining them, but as much as you wanted to deny it, Jungkook had proved that you were weak.

For now, you didn’t want to go near him, so you used that as your excuse for staying put all day, letting the household go about its day around you. But steadily, your mind filled with all the things you needed to work on. You had to patch up the gaps where your powers lacked, and you weren’t going to rely on Jungkook to do it anymore.

Maybe if you proved yourself, they would want you after all? Besides showing your lack of bond with Jungkook, today had surely showed Namjoon that you weren’t up to the task.

That was why he had stood you down.

Which was why you found yourself alone in a training room a few days later.

Since that day, you hadn’t trained. For one thing, your trainer had cemented his place as your mortal enemy, so you had no one to practise your powers with, since the others were all preparing for other things.

As for physical training, you thought they would at least let you do that. But they insisted you needed to rest for a couple more days.

You didn’t protest too much, but you knew this was how it would begin. This was their excuse to stop you training. They had given up on you, thinking you weren’t good enough to join them.

You were going to show them, Jungkook above all.

Now they were away on a mission, Jungkook nowhere to be found, leaving you the opportunity at last.

With the way the last outing had gone, they had switched plans. Now, instead of waiting around for Bolt to strike, they were beginning to relocate their allies, moving important weapons and things to more secure locations, while feeding Bolt’s informants the impression that the vacated premises were still operational. They hoped it would buy some time so they could formulate more of a plan to combat Bolt, without him gaining more power in the meantime.

Of course, Jungkook was still seething. He had made himself scarce the moment the others left, no doubt wanting to avoid spending any time with you.

You weren’t complaining.

Breathing deeply, you assessed the targets you had set up. A smile graced your face. The last time you had trained alone, you had accomplished a lot. Maybe you would try lifting objects again.

But first, you had to work on your speed. That was the main weaknesses Jungkook had highlighted. You weren’t able to keep up with him, and you had to change that.

Rolling out your stiff shoulders, wincing for a moment when it twinged the last remnants of your bruises, you raised an arm.

Your power felt a little rusty as it burst from your palm. Gritting your teeth against the slight tingle of pain, you cut it off and fired again. After a few tries, it felt pretty much normal. You weren’t going to wait any longer.

Lifting both arms now, you alternated your fire, turning in the space as you tried to hit each target. You hit them all, bolstering your confidence as you took a breather and went again. You may have hit them all, but you wanted to be faster.

This time, you didn’t even wait for one bolt to die away before you fired the next one. Focussing on short, sharp bursts, you let your powers pulse through the air.

The rattle and clash of metal filled the space as you shook each target in turn.

You made it around the room again, finding a rhythm, but this time you didn’t stop. Bolt wouldn’t stop if he was attacking you; Jungkook hadn’t. You had to push through.

So when you approached the familiar feeling of your powers slipping, you simply pushed through. You maintained your speed, barely able to keep up with the pace you had set. It was like running while the ground was slipping from under you, but you stayed standing and on your toes, enjoying the exhilaration of the electricity flowing through you.

You felt its power, hot and fierce in your chest, revelling in your ability to control it.

Then, one bolt sputtered and died. You picked it up again in a split second as you fired the next lightning into the space, but it scared you. Picturing the onslaught of gold from the other day, you knew that could cost you dearly in a fight.

So while your powers protested, you pressed on. Now, you had to force out each beam of light, but you weren’t about to stop. You had to improve. You had to succeed.

You didn’t notice when the heat of your powers became unpleasant. That burning sensation hadn’t invaded you for so long, but suddenly it was overwhelming, crashing down on you.

Gasping at the sharp pain, you staggered for a moment, not wanting to stop.

You raised your arm again. This would not defeat you. You had to push through.

Nothing came.

You searched for the familiar feeling to unleash your power, but instead you felt a tangle in your chest, a sparking ball of electricity that hissed at you like a wild animal.

Not now…

A stabbing pain lanced through your chest, blue suddenly erupting into the air. But this time it wasn’t you. Your power clawed its way down your arm, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

Biting down on a pained cry, you looked around in fear at the empty training room.

Though panicked, you knew you had to control it. You had pushed just a little too far, you only needed to reign it in again.

But as you closed your eyes, trying to find the centre of your power, shut it off like you were used to, more blasts leapt from that chasm in your chest. You battled to close it down, but it had power over you now.

Blue filled the space, colliding with the walls, clattering against targets.

Your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the floor. Now, you were unable to control it as you cried out, each release of your power coming with its own wave of pain. You thought you had left this unbearable heat behind, but now it seared through your body with a vengeance as your powers ran rampant.

Control it, control it-

But you couldn’t find space to breathe, let alone to calm your powers. Your arms shook, a tear breaking free from your eye as you gasped.

What had you done?

In your vision, blurry with pained tears and cut up by streaks of luminescent blue, something moved.

Though you lay panting on the floor, you squinted towards it. It was a person.

Were the others back? Your frazzled mind barely had time to wonder this, before the most pressing issue asserted itself again.

Wincing and curling in on yourself as another shot of electricity forced its way from you, you called out. Your voice was raw and shaking, but you had to protect them.

“Don’t come near! I’ll- I might hurt you!”

You knew your voice was thick with tears, but surely they could understand you? Why were they coming closer?

At the same time, both a yelp of pain and a lightning bolt escaped you. Your eyes widened; the figure was directly in its path.

A flash of gold.

The figure ran closer.

Despite your state, you had enough presence of mind to feel your cheeks burning as Jungkook came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes. For a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed uselessly.

Then, another bolt. And another.

As they cut through the room, leaving behind their signature of burning pain, the world tilted. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jungkook forgotten as the sizzling sting of your powers took up your thoughts.

You wanted it to stop.

“Control it.”

The instruction was muttered in your ear, closer than you expected. The next moment, a weight shifted against your back, pulling you to sit upright and against something. Someone.

Still heaving for air, you shook your head.

“I- I c-can’t!”

Another flash of blue, another flash of pain.

The arm that was looped around you squeezed tighter.

“You have to. Control it.”

And then a hand was placed against your back, steady and firm compared to your own body. It nestled between your shoulder blades.

The next thing you knew, a warm sensation bloomed there. But not uncomfortable, like your own rebelling powers. It bled through you, enveloping the mess that your powers had become. Your eyes slid closed, basking in the relief from the searing pain.

You could feel your powers, a blue weight sitting in your chest. You couldn’t see them, of course, but you had always felt them to be blue – not that you had realised. Not until now, at least, because the calming light that surrounded your power felt startlingly gold in comparison.

After a moment, you were collected enough to take control. With the aid of soothing gold containing your power, you were able to breathe deeply, closing off the electricity as you had done that first time in Namjoon’s office.

The gold faded.

Still, the hand on your back lingered, remaining steady.

“Okay?”

It was only now that the weight of this situation hit you. Jungkook had had to rescue you. From your own powers, no less.

You simply nodded, not trusting words to form.

At your confirmation, his hand finally left you. He had been sitting behind you, supporting you, but now he moved away. You would deny that you missed it.

But he only shifted around to your side, sliding an arm under your own.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, but there wasn’t much bite behind it.

Shaking his head, he muttered a curse as he helped lift you from the ground.

“What were you thinking?”

Again, the usual venom was missing from his voice. You kept your eyes down, not responding.

Huffing a little, he turned towards to the door. And paused.

“Can you get upstairs?”

Chewing on your lip, you kept your eyes fixed on your mug. You found the blanket you were wrapped in very interesting all of a sudden, fiddling and tugging at it with your free hand.

It was quiet.

It had been quiet for a while now, but neither of you were particularly inclined to change that.

Jungkook sat across from you, stiff and upright in his seat while you were huddled inside a blanket. He had sort of thrown it at you earlier. He hadn’t given you a second glance, instructing you rather coldly to sit, but it had to be the closest thing to affection he had ever shown you.

He was also holding a mug of tea. Perhaps it was just for show; he hadn’t lifted it once.

In a moment of weakness, your eyes darted up. You instantly regretted it, as you found his gaze already trained on you, and you both hurriedly averted your eyes again.

Just for something to do, you took a sip of tea, the slurp painfully audible in the silence. Your hand still shook a little when you lifted the mug.

Lowering it slowly, you chewed on your cheek.

“Thanks.”

You blurted it out without much consideration, the silence finally becoming too much for you.

Unfortunately, the quiet hung around a bit longer. Warily raising your eyes again, you watched Jungkook for a reaction.

His eyes were avoiding you, looking instead at a blank spot on the wall.

Then he sucked in a breath, leaning forwards to deposit his still-full mug on the coffee table.

“So do you want to tell me what you were doing?”

Finally his eyes turned to you, leaving you breathless. Your shame over what happened made words stick in your throat, but you knew you would have to explain.

Tearing your gaze from his to glare at your mug again, you felt your cheeks heating up. But you forced yourself to talk.

“You… you were right the other day. I’m not strong enough, or fast enough. I was trying to work on that – on my speed. I thought if I pushed myself, it might help. But I… I just lost control.”

Letting out a breath when you finished speaking, you looked up hesitantly. A light frown was on Jungkook’s face as he assessed you. He was thinking a little too hard for your liking.

He sat back.

“You remind me of Bolt.”

If you were still drinking, you would have choked. Your eyes widened, not knowing how to respond to that. In your search for words, all you could manage was an indignant but half-hearted excuse me?

A smirk quirked the corner of Jungkook’s mouth.

“You’re so pig-headed,” he began, “you treat your powers like some sort of game and pretend you’re good at everything…”

You simply stared, disbelieving. Was he seriously saying this to your face?

“And when you want something, you decide you’re getting it–” he eyed you before adding “–not to mention all the blue shit.”

He gestured in the general direction of all of you. You gaped.

But then he dropped his gaze, sighing.

“I… wanted to knock you down. You’re way too good at everything. You remind me of Bolt because he’s indestructible. Or it seems that way.”

Finally managing to scoff at his words, you shook your head incredulously.

“So now you think I’m good enough?”

“I didn’t want you going out there, okay?” he snapped, “I don’t trust you.”

“Just because my powers look like Bolt’s? Is that it? I never asked for this-”

“I know.”

Jungkook’s voice was softer now, startling your rant to a halt. His hands were clasped, elbows resting on his knees. And he wouldn’t quite look you in the eye.

“You’re not like Bolt. He’s the one that hurt you. I just couldn’t separate the image of you from him, what with you being so… obnoxious, and determined.”

He paused. Sighed.

“And I lied, okay?” his voice was quiet, “you’re fine. Your speed is good, you could pretty much keep up with me, and that’s saying something. I thought you’d know better.”

A frown creased your brows together. Now you were confused.

Looking up once again, he met your eyes.

“You shouldn’t push your powers, surely the others told you that? They can reach their limit, and I’m fairly sure yours did when we fought. Today was too soon, you shouldn’t have worn them out like that. You won’t be able to use them for a while. Not like that, anyway.”

“Like what?”

“Fast. You overwhelmed them, it might take a bit to build up your speed again.”

You swallowed, not wanting to believe his words.

“Or, you just want me out of training-” you bit back, but he cut you off.

“Oh, I couldn’t care less,” he sniggered, “go ahead and burn out your powers for all I care. I’m just telling you.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that. You simply tugged your blanket a little tighter around your shoulders.

“Turns out you’re human just like the rest of us.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? You couldn’t really tell.

After a moment holding his gaze, you went back to your tea. The two of you seemed to agree on one thing at least, and that was avoiding each other’s eyes as the silence stretched on.

Even once your mug was emptied, you fidgeted with it, letting your fingers slide around the handle for something to do. Jungkook’s words turned over in your head. It was probably the closest he had ever come to giving you actual advice. Perhaps you should take it, give your powers a rest for a short while.

It surprised you that Jungkook hadn’t yet left. He looked remarkably awkward on the other couch, refusing to relax into the seat but sitting ramrod straight on the edge instead, insisting for some reason on staying there.

Never before had he voluntarily endured your presence for this long.

He seemed to notice you sizing him up. He turned his gaze to find you watching him with your head tilted. And somehow, he too looked hesitant, far from the confidence you usually saw in him.

You swallowed, but didn’t look away.

“Don’t tell the others?”

Your voice was quiet but clear in the space. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re really determined to join us, aren’t you?”

With a sigh, your expression softened. You finally looked away, picking absently at your blanket while you replied.

“I agree with what you guys are doing. Bolt tried to kill me, all because I was just… there, at the wrong time. I didn’t matter to him. That doesn’t seem like someone who cares about protecting people. So I don’t want him to get whatever he wants with those weapons he’s collecting.”

Expecting the usual argument about you being of no use, you kept your eyes stubbornly down. But Jungkook was quiet.

If you looked up, you would have seen him blinking at you. Curious, almost.

But you never did, not until his expression clouded over again and he made to speak.

“And if the others knew you did something this stupid, they’d keep you away from the action even longer.”

You rolled your eyes, but had to admit that Jungkook wasn’t wrong.

“Pretty much,” you conceded, “and I do want this. It finally feels like I have a purpose.”

You had never expected to be so blisteringly honest with Jungkook, but when you laid beseeching eyes on him, you knew you had got through somehow.

Seemingly displeased with his own decision, his mouth straightened into a line.

“Fine. I won’t tell them. But you better not do it again, you know I’ll get the blame as well.”

You weren’t sure if that was entirely true, but if Jungkook wanted to make that his reason for helping you out, then so be it.

At last, it seemed he had reached his limit with you. He stood abruptly, casting one more glance at you, and strode away. Watching his retreating form, you sunk further into the sofa. A subtle smile took up residence on your face.

You hadn’t even put the tv on. Silence filled the apartment and you stared up at the ceiling from your position on the sofa.

Since you and Jungkook talked a few days ago, he had, surprisingly, kept his word. Around the others he stoically ignored you as normal, but also diligently kept his mouth shut about your little accident.

You suspected he also didn’t want to admit to helping you. But whatever kept him quiet worked for you.

It was true that he glanced over at you more often despite his continued frosty attitude towards you. Or perhaps you were imagining that? He was just glaring at you like always – only, you began to read into it too much. Now you two shared a secret, in a sense, it meant that every time his eyes locked with yours they seemed to hold more significance.

However, you had to remind yourself nothing had changed. The two of you were still only here because you were stuck together on Namjoon’s orders. Which was the same reason Jungkook had been the one to help you before.

No, nothing had changed.

Turning your head, you let your cheek fall against the cushion as you hesitantly gazed at the tv. Maybe you should put it on, just to fill the silence?

The lack of noise in the house served as proof that Jungkook wanted as little to do with you as ever. The moment the boys were out, he made himself scarce.

At least you had been permitted to learn more about what exactly they were doing when they went out. They were leaving the house more and more frequently, and for longer stretches of time. Given Bolt’s movements, and his startling power at their last encounter (due to the weapons he had stolen from Kuyang), the boys were launching a counter-operation.

If they couldn’t defend their allies from a direct attack, they had to bide their time until they could build an attack strategy.

So for now, they were relocating important developers to throw Bolt off. Stop him before he could gain even more power; before he became too much of a match for them.

Jin seemed fairly confident that they had tracked Bolt’s sources well enough to feed him misinformation to keep him unaware of their movements. The only risk now lay in the transportation of what you could only assume were deadly weapons through the city.

Standing on the kitchen counter was a small black receiver. You could turn it on if you wanted, hear what was happening.

You were contemplating it when something pulled at your thoughts. Your focus frayed, distracted by that incomprehensible feeling that there was someone behind you.

Flipping over on the sofa, you found Jungkook leaning against the wall. His arms were folded, but there was no glare entrenched on his face. Startled, you eyed his damp hair, the oversized black shirt hanging from his shoulders.

Clearly he had just come from a shower, so why wasn’t he going to train?

The absence of a scowl was really throwing you off. He didn’t look totally comfortable, expression tight and slightly expectant, but what did he want with you?

You raised your eyebrows in question.

He blinked at you, then his eyes slid away from your face, looking somewhere over your head and through to the kitchen.

“Training,” he said.

You continued to stare, but he just as stubbornly avoided your eyes.

After another moment, you huffed and sat up.

“Training?” you echoed.

“We’re going to training.”

“…we?”

“You heard me.”

His response was dry. Already, he was pushing away from the wall and turning his back on you, leaving you little choice but to follow.

Leaving the couch and hurrying after him, you made it to his side on the stairs.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my powers? After…”

“Not for speed,” he corrected you, eyes fixed ahead.

A frown furrowed your brow as you reached the training space. Today, you remained in the main, largest room. There was no one around and clearly Jungkook didn’t have want of the targets you normally used, as he stopped right in the middle and turned to you.

His brows were pinched, clearly a little hesitant about this. You noticed the way his teeth pulled slightly at his lower lip.

“Power,” he said.

You stared. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he elaborated.

“Apart from speed, that’s what you need to work on. You need to connect with your powers, feel like the light is an extension of you. Since you can’t work on your agility, it’s time to think about force.”

Nodding, you felt your confidence raise a little. When you had trained by yourself before, you had hit upon that exact feeling he described, an almost physical connection that let you lift the target.

Plus, using a little force would be more than welcome, with the pent up tension you had felt since your last disastrous practice.

Jungkook took your confirmation and stepped forwards into line with you, holding your gaze. He held his arms slightly away from his body, palms facing you.

“Summon your powers and push against me,” he instructed.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and prepare to use your powers. It had been a while. You tried to hide your slight wince when you searched for the powers only to find a scorching, tangled mess where they usually flowed from, like someone had knotted barbed wire there.

Swallowing, you let your eyes slide shut for a moment. It was as if your power was hissing at you, an animal you had to coax from hiding.

But coax it you did, the first slight tug leading them to easily unravel until the electricity flowed through your veins again. Beside a slight tremor in the flow of blue light you released, it seemed fairly normal.

Surely Jungkook wouldn’t approve of the clumsiness with which you handled your powers, though? But when you looked up, he only appeared focussed.

With a small nod as your powers shot through the air, his eyes clouded with gold and his own luminous lightning welled in his hands.

He didn’t fire a strong bolt to match yours. It appeared that he held a small golden fountain in each hand, bubbling gently, just enough to dispel your blue electricity before it could strike his palms.

Your eyes connected.

It was curious, how Jungkook’s eyes looked so much less deadly when they were literally glowing with power. As you held his gaze, you felt no urge to look away. Instead, his focus, gentle and firm at the same time, affirmed you.

Taking a breath, you continued to let your powers flow freely.

“Concentrate on your powers,” he spoke in a low voice, “feel them moving through you. Then follow that feeling outwards, feel where they connect with me.”

Taking in his words with a determined nod, you searched within you for the feeling he spoke of.

This time, you didn’t close your eyes. You were already familiar with the taste of your power in your veins, and found it with little effort.

But you stared into those gold eyes as you searched for him, the sight of them making it easier to find the corresponding sensation. Colliding with your power, you were surprised to stumble across a warmth pulsing against them. You hadn’t even realised you had followed the flow of your powers outside your fingertips; the feeling hadn’t altered as far as you could tell.

Sure enough, however, there was Jungkook – it was undeniable. Inexplicably, the intensity of his eyes felt the exact same as the fiery power rushing to meet your own lightning.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s lips twitched into a smirk.

“You can feel it, right?”

Now you had found it, it was easy to hold onto the sensation of his powers as they met your own.

Elated, you exhaled with a smile. His grew too.

“I’m going to push back now,” he said, “keep the connection. It’ll be like arm wrestling, only with our powers.”

You knew you should have felt a little sceptical about that. If it was anything like arm wrestling, Jungkook would be able to topple you in a second. He had been training much longer than you, and was undeniably stronger.

In fact, all you felt was an ignition in your chest, competitiveness flaring up inside you.

Jungkook’s expression shifted into focus. His smirk slipped into a concentrated line.

Where the gold in his eyes had been rippling lazily, it now grew in ferocity, blazing harshly in contrast to the abysses of his dark pupils.

The instant his powers switched, you felt it. No longer a soft warmth, they sent a jolt through you as they connected in earnest, the threads of your electricity fusing together like wires and throwing out a ball of sparks.

The molten light warred in the air between you, your eyes no doubt as vivid as Jungkook’s as you allowed more power through your palms to match his force.

To your surprise, they complied instantly. It seemed your powers were enjoying being let out like this, having lashed out the last time when you had stubbornly forced them to stop and start. With the growing power flowing from you, their connection with Jungkook strengthened as well. You could sense a distinctly gold force clashing with your powers.

Even though you could see the point where your powers converged, the feeling allowed you to notice every minute crackle of electricity, every pulse of Jungkook’s lightning.

Just like before, when you had lifted the target, your powers felt much more than just a fleeting rush of sparks. They formed a bridge outwards from your body, reaching beyond.

You felt strong.

And if Jungkook wanted to wrestle, you weren’t going to go down easily.

Channelling yet more power outwards, you pushed hard against his gold powers where they met your own.

For a moment, you succeeded in subduing the opposing force. Sparks flew again, Jungkook staggering back a step as the gold light retreated from your advance, blue dominating the bolt of energy that connected you two.

Jungkook smiled.

The next moment, it became clear he had been waiting for you to get used to the feeling and make a move. But you had no time to be touched by his newfound patience as you found yourself battling against a renewed burst of pressure from his end.

Raising your arms to be level with your shoulders, aiming at him, you gritted your teeth and stubbornly weathered the temptation to step back as his powers shoved against yours.

Now both of you were using all your energy, the connection was more vivid than before. You could sense every vein of the electricity, his as well as yours. Finding strength from somewhere, you resisted his onslaught and managed to take a step forwards.

Your tussle continued, fire against fire, both of you matching the other’s power but advancing until you were practically toe to toe.

Outstretched, slightly above your head, your hands were level, vibrant light still connecting them although his palm was just inches from yours. A waterfall of blue and gold sparks fell between your faces while you stared at each other with blazing eyes. Your breathing was heavy, trying to keep up with his relentless power, but Jungkook was also panting, damp hair falling over his eyes.

You were out of breath, but the warm air brushing over your face from Jungkook’s lips assured you that you weren’t the only one.

A sharp, exhilarated smile lit up his mouth. A brow quirked, his words breathless as he spoke.

“Not bad. Hold it…”

Sucking in a breath, you prepared for one last effort. Avoiding Jungkook’s eyes had long left your priority list, and now you were drawn in by the burning gold within them. It was like you were staring at the sun, but you couldn’t look away, not even when their light grew, yet more of his power flowing through you.

His gaze burned just as intently back, eyes trained on your own which were surely lit up blue. A slight crease formed in his brow, perhaps from concentration…

Again, you matched his power even as he overloaded the connection, more and more energy sparking in the air-

His gaze flitted away, the connection cutting abruptly.

For a moment, the brightness of the sparks, and Jungkook’s eyes, left dazzling prints on your vision even as they sputtered from existence. Air rushed in and out of your lungs, the exertion not hitting you until now.

Without the channel to focus your energy, you staggered back from Jungkook, blinking in the relative dimness.

Sensing the strength that had drained from you, you let yourself take another step to sink against the wall behind you. Breathing still heavy, you looked up at Jungkook. Though his chest heaved too, cheeks slightly flushed under his dripping hair, he hadn’t moved an inch.

Only when you met his eyes, which had returned to their regular darkness, did he start, quickly marching away to grab water bottles from the corner of the room.

One flew in your direction. Just about managing to snatch it from the air, you took an eager sip. Now you had had time to catch your breath, a strange silence settled.

“How did it feel?”

Jungkook wasn’t even looking at you. He had made his way to the bottom of the staircase, and now leaned against them, apparently finding the floor very interesting.

Hesitantly, you made your way closer, following a step behind as he started climbing back to the main house.

“Yeah, my powers, they feel… it wasn’t painful,” you replied, “they’re like normal again.”

Jungkook nodded.

“You did good. Still, don’t push it.”

By then, you had reached the top of the stairs. After pausing for a moment, Jungkook awkwardly moved away to the kitchen, while you hung back to have a shower.

The odd tension that had clung to the space between you since training occupied your mind as the water flowed over you, reinvigorating your tired body. In a way, it was just like usual. You and Jungkook had never been comfortable around each other.

But then why did it feel odd now?

The training session had given you a taste of something different. For once, Jungkook hadn’t spent the time trying to antagonise you. Instead, you had a real chance to push yourself.

It was probably the fact that, after so long without using your powers, you simply missed feeling the rush of electricity. No matter if it was also because connecting with Jungkook's powers had felt so thrilling too.

That thought was gone as quickly as the water running over you. Outside the training room at least, you knew where you stood. And that was very, very far from Jungkook.

Which is why you were so perplexed when you reached the kitchen, and didn’t find it empty.

Pausing in the hallway, you honestly considered turning back around and leaving. Trust Jungkook to try and claim the kitchen since you were absent.

But you weren’t going to be deterred. You were hungry.

It was his fault anyway, for training you so hard, so you took a breath and pushed your damp hair behind your shoulder before striding into the space.

At first, you made your best attempt at keeping your chin up, confident while also acting as if you magically couldn’t see Jungkook at all. It was how you usually approached each other. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing that whatever he was making wasn’t going well.

Halfway through throwing your own ingredients onto the counter, you stopped to cast a sceptical eye over the mess he was making. He was making an equally good show of not noticing your presence, and continued throwing in random sauces, not before eyeing them all fairly hesitantly first.

Biting your lip, you shrugged it off and turned your eyes back to your own dinner.

But you could no longer ignore it when he took a taste from his spoon and quite literally recoiled.

Loudly putting your knife down, you sighed in frustration.

“Do you want some help?”

Quickly straightening out his face from the way it had been screwed up from the taste, he blinked around at you. He really did look surprised at your presence.

You rolled your eyes, marching over to him and peering into his pan.

“What are you making?”

Folding his arms across his chest, you could hear the pout in his voice as he replied.

“Tteokbokki.”

You stared. At the food, which certainly did not resemble tteokbokki, and then at Jungkook.

“No you’re not.”

“I am! Jin always makes it like this!”

“Maybe when he’s making something for his science experiments,” you scoffed.

Defiant, Jungkook reached for his packet of soft rice cakes, totally ignoring you. You had to lunge across the counter to save them from a grizzly fate in that pan of definitely not tteokbokki.

Deep down, he clearly agreed with you, because he didn’t protest all that much as you forcibly removed the pan from the stove, depositing the whole mess in the bin.

“This is how you’ve been eating?”

Jungkook looked a little startled, his eyes wide for a moment before he managed to resurrect his scowl.

“We ran out of ramen,” he muttered.

You stared at him in disbelief. Had no one taught him to cook?

“What would Jin say?” you huffed, returning to the stove and elbowing him out the way.

Before long, you had your own meal cooking, now with some extra added. After a few moments, Jungkook had skulked away, watching you silently from the table. Once again, you pretended not to pay him any mind.

Two steaming bowls of (actually edible) food eventually made it to the table.

Sitting down opposite him, neither of you began for a moment. Each of you was waiting for the other to do something.

When at last you reached for your chopsticks, the sound was deafening against the strained silence between you.

Perhaps Jungkook was encouraged to see you didn’t drop dead after taking a bite, because he finally started to eat as well. Not that you let yourself look at him beyond the odd brief glance. You kept your attention firmly on the meal, which was actually quite tasty if you did say so yourself.

“Thanks.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes shooting up to stare at Jungkook. He stopped mid-bite, big eyes returning your bewildered gaze as if he had no idea who had spoken.

You blinked. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze again, picking at your food.

“No problem.”

“It’s nearly as good as Jin’s,” he drawled next.

Disbelieving, you swallowed your next bite and raised your eyebrows.

“Are you seriously trying to come for me after I gave you food?”

“That’s a compliment!” he defended.

“Sure.”

“Fine,” he huffed, attacking his food a bit more aggressively.

Taking a breath, you chewed your lip. Jungkook took a bite with more force than strictly necessary, brows furrowed. Maybe he had really meant it in a nice way?

You had trouble believing that, somehow.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than yours would have been,” you grumbled, then paused. “but… I suppose Jin is a very good chef.”

For a moment, Jungkook didn’t reply. But he finished chewing and set his chopsticks down a bit more gently.

“Why would I have to practise cooking when he’s always here to do it?” he murmured.

Deciding for once to take the opportunity to ease the situation, you smiled.

“I don’t blame you.”

Both of you allowed a temporary ceasefire to settle as you cleared your plates. You didn’t miss Jungkook’s glance towards the little black receiver standing on the table.

With the frequency of operations at the moment, it was clear Namjoon classed the whole situation with Bolt as an emergency. Jungkook hadn’t been wrong – Jin was usually there, or one of the others, to cook. As much as it still surprised you that he was so clueless, you saw that prying was going to get you nowhere.

He wasn’t the only one that missed the others, though. Or hoped they were okay.

You leaned over and turned the receiver on.

Thank you for reading! I really mean it, it's wonderful now I'm finally sharing this story to hear what you guys think as we go through it!! I appreciate every last one of you who comments💜💜

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[cheeekycharchar]

A second theory has also been tinkering in my mind… Crowley's "I'm back" line isn't him showing up after a 4 year nap but.. CROWLEY IS ABOUT TO ANNOUNCE HE'S MOVING IN WITH AZIRAPHALE.

hold my beer and let me explain my madness again~ lol

I think an unseen moment between the two led to some kind of argument about them moving their relationship forward after thousands of years of holding back and some kind of argument happened from it. Possibly unrelated but Crowley could have gotten SO unbelievably fed up with Aziraphale's holding himself back attitude that even after ALL that happened at the end of season 1 he still won't move forward.. "together".

So Crowley runs outside the bookshop in pure annoyance and lets out a burst of demonic lightning energy in the streets and storms off in a huff.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale just thinks, "Oh, that silly wily ol serpent. Being his bitchy self as always" and goes back to his newspaper research about the strange occurrences with the Buddy Holiday song.

LATER THAT NIGHT (cause it's now dark outside. different scene from the Gabriel jump scare)

HERE HE COMES SPEEDING DOWN THE STREETS OF LONDON… CROWLEY IN THE BENTELY.. FULL OF HIS STUFF. READY TO MAKE A GRAND GESTURE… "I'm back." AND "I'M MOVING IN WITH YOU, ANGEL."

Probably cause I'm in the middle of a big house move myself currently, when I first saw the running theme of naked Gabriel and the BOX. OH SO MANY BOXES. I immediately thought, "Oh! They're moving in together!"

But it wasn't until the trailer and someone pointing out the plants in Crowley's car in one shot and possibly more stuff in his car in the first few seconds of the trailer…

This is Crowley's BIG GESTURE.

He's taking it upon himself to pack up his things and move in with Aziraphale to show his Angel just how much he means to him and wants to finally be closer to him now that they're on "their own side" finally.

So, Crowley's, "I'm back" line to me was him sauntering in after a big "OH EFF IT! I GOTTA DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE, DON'T I!?" meltdown moment of lightning frustration and then trying to act all cool and suave, take off his glasses, announce with a ring of the bell to the Angel sitting RIGHT THERE and.. Aziraphale has no idea what is about to happen.

He's probably thinking, "Oh, Crowley. Throwing a fit and running off and here he is again. What more could he possibly want to argue about now?"

So he plays it cool and calm. Like the parent pointing out the obvious to a child after they just had a tantrum. He gets up and calmly straightens his vest, ready for the next bought of ridiculousness and… Crowley tells him he wants to move in.. together. <3

I HOPE. I HOPE. I HOPE. I HOPE.

OR.. A MORE LIKELY SCENARIO....

He gets mad at Aziraphale saying that amnesiac Gabriel must be protected and stay at the bookshop with him. Crowley fights with Aziraphale over it being too dangerous, so he runs out in frustration, lightning in the streets, packs up his stuff in a huff and comes rushing back to protect his Angel..

"IF HE STAYS.. THEN I'M STAYING HERE, TOO." lol

Am I reading too much into this? Anyone else have this theory yet? Am I just wishful thinking? lol Which of the 2 scenarios do you think is more true? I want it to be the 1st but the 2nd one is probably more likely to happen. lol HELP I NEED SEASON 2, LIKE YESTERDAY D:

[cosyvelvetorchid]

for the prompt thing: beach day with jee-yun

Such a cute prompt! Thank you!

Enjoy 🩶

As always you can send bucktommy prompts to my ask box at any time. I love writing them so have at it 😊

*************

"So what plans have you got for the day?" Maddie asked on the phone.

"Tommy and I are taking Christopher to the beach for the day. What about you?" He asked. Maddie grunted in response.

"Everything. I promised Jee's daycare I'd make 50 cupcakes for tomorrow. The house is a mess that I need to clean. And I have to find time to go to the bank and the lawyer."

"Lawyer? Is-is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. You wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork that comes with getting married. Doug wouldn't put my name on anything, so I had no idea. But with me and Howie combining everything equally, it means putting his name on my stuff and mine on his. Honestly, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if the lawyer fees topped the cost of the wedding itself."

"Well, hey, why don't we take Jee with us? Give you some time and space to get everything done."

"Oh my god, really?!"

"Sure. I haven't seen her in at least 4 days, so I need some Jee time anyway."

"You are the best little brother in the world!"

***

"There's snacks in the bag, extra clothes. Her swimsuit is on under her clothes now. Oh, and don't forget sunscreen. Every hour and extra if she goes into the ocean." Buck swung Jees backpack over his shoulder and picked her up.

"You ready for a fun day at the beach?" He asked her.

"Yeah!" She nodded .

***

They had a blast at the beach. Tommy helped the kids dig a hole. Buck consoled Jee when the tide came in and filled it. They ate ice cream, and sandwiches that probably had sand in them, though nobody really noticed.

"What?" Buck asked noticing Tommy watching him.

"Its sweet - the way you're looking at them." He gestured to Jee-yun and Christopher playing a few metres in front of them. "You want that in the future? Kids, I mean?"

"Uh, yeah. Someday. What about you?" He asked. Tommy sighed and looked towards the kids.

"Honestly, I'd never really considered it. I guess I always thought I'd never find someone to have that chance with." He answered honestly.

"Thought? Past tense? You, uh.. you think differently now?" He asked tentatively. They were way too early on their relationship to think seriously about kids, or even marriage, but knowing where their intentions laid was a good thing.

"Now.. let's just say that there's more hope these days." He smiled softly at Buck.

***

The sun was starting its descent, allowing the sky to begin glowing in beautiful shades of pink and the temperature to begin lowering.

Tommy was helping the kids build a sand castle. Sand city was more accurate. If he wasn't a firefighter, he could definitely throw his hand at architecture, Buck thought.

He sat back on his chair just watching him. The way Tommy joyfully and enthusiastically played with the kids made Bucks' heart bubble over in his chest. He'd make a great dad.

"Letting Tommy do all the work I see?" Eddie's voice came from above. He looked behind to see both Eddie and Chim walking towards him, then sit down.

"They have a good day?" Chimney asked.

"Let's just say I think they'll both sleep tonight." He laughed.

Buck continued to watch Tommy fondly. He thought about how different his life was a year ago. Struck by lightning and having no idea where is life was going. Now he was sat on a beach, at the end of a beautiful day, staring at the man he was hopelessly and disgustingly in love with. Eddie and Chim both noticed how he was looking at Tommy.

"It's a bit early, don't ya think? Eddie told him.

"Huh?"

"To think about having kids with Tommy." He said

"I am not." Buck replied defensively, with a glint in his eye. "We've been together barely 6 months."

"Exactly." Chimney added. "So I hope you're both using protection."

[meowzfordayz]

fearless

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~700

CW: mild sexual content

Song Inspo: Fearless by Taylor Swift

For most of his life, Giyuu isn’t sure what to think of love. He knows it consumes. Protects. Hurts. But days move too fast and nights move too slow and he never gets to just sit in its comfort—bask in its fury—for long enough to make any of his own conclusions. He might feel love when he recalls his past family and friendships, but the blood that drips from his heart to his fingertips confuses him, and is often too painful to reconcile with the memory of smiling. The memory of laughter and safety and you can’t undo what has been done. He might feel love when he thinks of Tanjirou and Nezuko; his unexpected pride and reminder that he can—he does—make a difference. That he can save and mentor and trust those beside him. That living goes on, and that this inevitability is okay. He might feel love when he walks alone. Sheltered by moonlight beneath an open sky, the familiar weight of his katana on his hip stowed away in an unassuming wooden box — for good. His arm reaching for the swaying overgrowth surrounding him, damp ferns and prickly branches caressing his palm, callouses finally softening. And yet, he still isn’t sure what to think of it. Of love. A spoil of war that even the winner seldom gets to taste.

Until you.

Giyuu thinks love is the most tender truth when it’s you, tucked into his chest in the morning, sunlight brighter than he thought possible. It’s been years since he slept in, the welcoming touch of sunrise a fleeting moment among more important things to deal with. Years since he really, deeply breathed, sinking into the realization that love is a choice, and that is why it is so beautiful. That is why it is so sparse. So enduring. Love is more than attraction; it is commitment to connection. Love is more than longing; it is resolution of fear. Love is more than a good time; it is forever.

—

“Let’s watch the storm!”

A flash of lightning catches Giyuu’s attention as his gaze jumps to the window behind you, rainclouds filling the background with a grey, dreamy quietness.

“From here?” he teases, shoulder leaning into you.

“Absolutely not!” you exclaim, pouting as he promptly chuckles, “What?!”

Lifting your knuckles to his mouth, he murmurs amusedly, “How about you go, and I’ll wait here with a towel.”

“But the whole point is for you to follow me so we can have our romantic kiss in the rain!”

Giyuu shakes his head, the tiniest of grins meeting your fierce scowl, “Alright, alright.”

Because love isn’t watching the storm. Love is standing in it. Love is his pulse quickening as you stomp your way to the middle of the yard, wild and exuberant, giggling and shrieking, your silhouette whimsical and gorgeous in the deluge. It’s you, winking and blinking at him, lashes dripping as he joins you. You, tugging on his shirt till you’re nose to nose, backs soaked through as you cup his face in your hands. His hair, sticky and wet on his neck, clinging to his skin as you kiss him with tears in your eyes. He laughs. He always does. Mesmerized and cherished by the emotion you so freely entrust to him. Thinking to himself Whatever did I do to be loved by you?

“It’s the rain!” you protest, another happy sob shuddering through your ribcage as you hug him tighter, laughing with him as warm, salty teardrops race cold, clean raindrops down your cheeks, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he grins, widely now.

You laugh and cry and kiss each other, and laugh and cry and kiss again, the horizon flickering with an eerie, stunning glow. You can barely hear the thunder, the relentless press of the downpour upon the earth, so perfectly caught up in how he says your name. In how he would follow you anywhere.

—

Giyuu doesn’t think about love. He simply knows you.

[courtlyharlequin]

Hello! May I request the Diasomnia boys taking a familial role for the reader? For instance Lilia being the father, Malleus being the older brother, etc. it doesn’t have to be those in specific so feel free to put your own twist to it! I’ll love anything you write :) and thank you!

I Found It All On My Own

A/N: *weeps* I love Diasomnia's found family dynamics. I decided to do Lilia as the father figure, Malleus and Silver as older brothers and Sebek as like a twin brother in the same year? Oughdfhj I feel like with everything going on in chapter seven right now, these headcanons would be perfect to write. Don't worry there won't be major spoilers. Well, if you know then you can spot them, but they won't ruin the story for you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is naturally protective of everyone- especially the people he's close to. His family, if you will. Perhaps it's because he feels bound to his duty as a dorm leader, an heir, or maybe he knows how fragile life is. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt or be unhappy

He goes out of his way to intervene or watch you from afar... just to keep you safe. Malleus is like one of those older brothers that spy on you for "your own good" or "just to make sure"

Sometimes, Malleus would cast a spell to ensure whatever your date, errand, appointment, hangout with a friend, etc. goes well. There will be no rain, sleet or snow. Not a single loud in the sky. The weather will always be perfect. Everything would be too perfect.

If another party is late, makes a side remark or wrongs you, Malleus might entertain the idea of striking them with lightning. Or... slightly inconveniencing their day after they part ways with you.

If you pick up on it, you'd have to tell him. He wouldn't stop otherwise. In your heart, you know he means well. Malleus wants you to be happy no matter what. Your smile means the world to him. He truly enjoys hearing about your amazing day and how you smile when you show him the things you bought or the grades you got, but how can there be good days if there are no bad ones or any mishaps?

Reassure him that if you ever need help, you'd ask him. If there's anyone in the world capable of protecting you and coming to you when you need someone the most- it's Malleus. Tell him that and he'll be trying to hide his smug smile all day.

Lilia Vanrouge:

He's a father figure for many, including you. While not the best cook and using... conventional methods of parenting on some occasions, Lilia is someone you'd accidentally call dad

His age is most certainly a factor, but it's also how he always tells you stories from the past or invites you to sit down and play some video games with him after a long day. Like a dad who doesn't know how to comfort you, but tries his best anyways.

Another way Lilia comforts you, or rather, shows his love is buying whatever you seem to like eating at the moment. Oh these frozen waffles taste good? He'd get you a few more boxes for good measure. He can't cook, but he'll get you all your favorite snacks and frozen meals.

Like Malleus, Lilia also looks after you. He just isn't as much of a helicopter as Malleus is. So maybe not like Malleus.

Lilia simply asks you about your day. He's quite perceptive and has incredible intuition so even if you lie, he knows something is up. He won't ever ask you directly, believing that you could figure it out eventually. Still, he quips the typical dad thing and says that he'll always be here if you need him. You could tell him anything!

Not that you would. Teenagers tend to be more reluctant to share things with their guardians. He would know. He was that age some centuries ago.

...He might meddle a little if he sees you struggle a too much though. If you have trouble making friends, Lilia might ask Silver to befriend you. Or at least walk you to class and make some small talk

Silver:

Silver is little more subtle than Malleus and Lilia when it comes to showing love and looking out for you. He won't buy you too much food or curse your worst enemy, but he'll support you!

He's never had a younger sibling and you're the closest thing to that he has. He cherishes you a lot because of that

His speech isn't as eloquent as Lilia's nor is he as powerful as Malleus, but you can always count on him to show up for you. You have a recital or speech to give? He'll be there. You post something on social media? He's the first like. He won't comment, but he'll like the post. And reblog/retweet it if you need more exposure

He also wouldn't mind if you steal some of his stuff... in moderation. Silver doesn't get irritated easily. He's fairly lax when it comes to these things so if you want something- be it food, clothes, some school supplies- all you have to do is ask

Silver is the dream big brother most siblings would want. You and him rarely ever argue. He's got a decent temperament and hypes you up when you need it.

He'll also agree to help you hide something if you really don't want Lilia or Malleus to know. Silver will recommend you tell them about it, but if you insist... then he won't push it. He'll be hesitant, but he won't spill the beans.

Silver also has this inability to be not so good at comforting (maybe he gets it from Lilia), but he tries his best. He's not good with deep, long conversations about life or growing, but he would one hundred percent listen to you and pat your back or head depending on the situation

Sebek Zigvolt:

If Silver is the sibling you get along with, then Sebek is the one you don't get along with. Neither of you hate the other, it's more so constant bickering over trivial matters

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"How do you know I'm looking at you? Aren't you the one looking at me?"

Nevertheless, like most sibling relationships, at the end of the day, you still love each other. Sebek isn't as soft spoken like Silver. He doesn't show love like Lilia or Malleus either. He's a bit on the harsher side, but his actions will somehow always speak louder than his blunt words.

Sebek will help you with your homework. He won't do a full on tutoring session, but he'll show you how to solve a problem or two. He might even lend you his notes. From the bottom of his heart, he really does want you to succeed.

If you need someone to give you the truth and nothing but the truth, Sebek is the one to go to. He doesn't sugarcoat his opinion that often. If that sweater looks ugly, he'll tell you if you show it to him

Sebek also won't hesitate to call out anyone who says something mean to you. Though the two of may have your back and forths, the things he says to you are never truly hurtful. Sebek doesn't fully realize it, still calling you "human", but he does worry about you from time to time. What kind of trouble would you get into? Would he be able to help?

He doesn't have many friends or siblings... Silver hardly counts in his eyes. You sort of count? He's fond of you to say the least. He'd like to pat your head like Silver does one day.

[taiyeoki]

Kashimo Headcanons

↳ Husband!Kashimo x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: Kashimo being a man being from the Edo period doesn't change the fact that he's a loving husband and a soon to be father for y/n and their upcoming child.

A/N: I am so madly in love with him that I had to make a whole Tumblr account just to put this out there. This is a new account but I've been using Tumblr for years so I know how things work 💀 Except I use chrome so I never had an account. This is just for a personal idea but anyone's free to read! This one doesn't have any smut so it's just a wholesome thing but I'd like to put a warning anyway.

Husband!Kashimo who couldn't believe what he had heard when you announced that you were pregnant. You were sure he'd gone deaf when he needed you to repeat it like four times.

Husband!Kashimo opens the present you gave him. Inside was an adorable baby outfit with a little lightning crochet on the chest. "What's this for?" Instead, you just stared at him with excitement as if you were about to explode into a firework of happiness. With no reply from you, he decided to look back down into the gift box then noticed the pregnancy test with two pink lines on it next to the clothing. Immediately he looked back up at you and you announce, "Hajime guess what?! I'm pregnant!! Uh... Hajime?" He gave no response. He looked so dumbfounded and shocked at the same time you had to take a picture of his reaction.

Husband!Kashimo who finally registers the news and immediately his expression changes to one of absolute happiness. You swear you've never seen him express this much emotion before considering he usually kept an unamused or an angry resting face. His smile is so genuine, smiling ear to ear as he's about to burst into disbelief.

"I'm gonna be a dad?! Are you serious?! It took me 400 years just for this moment!"

Husband!Kashimo immediately tackles you into a hug, both of you laughing in excitement from the news. He snakes his arms around your waist as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Despite having large hands he uses for fights, they're actually pretty soft and gentle as he brings his hand around your belly and caresses it.

"Y/n," he murmurs softly, "love you so much..."

It took forever for him to let go. It's as if you would disappear if he lets go of the hug. You better believe he's gonna watch over you 24/7.

Husband!Kashimo refuses to let you out of his sight. You knew he was protective but now that you were pregnant he'd grown even more protective over you than he already was. You try to reassure him, "Hajime I'm fine! I'm just going to the bathroom okay?" But he just finds reasons to stay with you. "But what if you get your morning sickness again? At least let me accompany you in case anything happens." Or he pulls the "there are curses everywhere" card on you to let him watch over you.

You couldn't deny his requests of staying with you especially after he gave the softest look. Wrapping his muscular arms around you in a loving hug, he nuzzles close into you making sure to warm you up. Eventually you gave in...

Husband!Kashimo feels bad whenever you actually do get the morning sickness. He tries his best to find comfort in anything at all just for your sake. "Y/n are you okay? How are you feeling now? Do you want some tea?" At first he's too old to understand which medicine he should give you. After all, modern medicine never existed back in the 1600. Instead, he tried to soothe you with tea, herbal soups and warm bathes. Eventually though he does manage to understand what medication you should take and provides you with them but he still prefers it the old fashion way.

Husband!Kashimo dotes on you all the time. He makes sure you're always healthy and happy and whenever you're not, he'd be worried sick. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick again? Hey how about I buy you some snacks okay. What are you craving for?" Eventually though you actually do cheer up with how much he keeps spoiling you.

Husband!Kashimo is constantly asking you questions to check in on you, making sure you feel loved and appreciated all the time. "Are you hungry?", "What do you wanna eat?", "do you wanna go out? The sunshine will do you good." "Do you want me to make you some tea?"

Husband!Kashimo refuses to let you get hungry or dehydrated. He makes sure to have you well fed everytime. The food he'd prepare are nutritious and healthy with all the right amounts of everything your body needs. Not too much and not too little. Grabbing a cup of water, he hands it to you, "y/n you need to drink lots. I don't want you or the baby getting sick because you aren't eating or drinking well. You both need all the nutrients and vitamins you can get." If you're planning to diet, be prepared for him to scold you.

"Are you crazy?! Dieting during your pregnancy?! You know what- c'mere. You need to eat now."

Believe it or not, despite being a traditional man from the 1600 Edo period he actually knows how to cook. Husband!Kashimo makes the most comforting food you've ever tasted. Although his cooking style is different, it's because of that which makes his food taste uniquely great. It has a delicious smokey aroma to it. At first he wasn't used to the stove and oven so he'd just cook by the log and fire. He started learning how to operate the stove though because you laughed at him for cooking like a caveman squatting down next to the fire like that.

"Pfft Hajime! You don't know how to use the stove?!" He gives you an unamused pout which you honestly found adorable so you decided to teach him how to cook from the stove. Almost immediately he seemed even better than you do in cooking which has his smug face putting you in shame. He's the one laughing at you now because you forgot you were cooking and burnt the food.

"SHIT," you came back panicking from the smell of smoke coming from the kitchen to see him giving you an unimpressed look as if he's about to lecture you. He already had the kitchen under control the moment you arrive. Giving him a sheepish smile, Kashimo doesn't want you near the fire until the baby is out. "Y/n, I'll do all the cooking now. I don't want you burning anything again. What if you get hurt? Right, that goes for the knives too. Let me do all the work."

Husband!Kashimo reassures you everyday that he loves you. It doesn't matter how you look, whether you get stretch marks or leaking breasts. "Y/n, trust me when I say this. In 400 years of my life you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He caresses your growing belly, keeping you in a warm hug as he nuzzles into you and takes in your scent which he always found to be soothing.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing. I love every single part of you. These stretch marks are a reminder of my love for you; our child. I'm happy to know that you're the one carrying my child."

Husband!Kashimo prefers for you to give birth at home because he thinks it's safer there rather than the hospital. He makes sure to hire the best OBGYN, doctors and midwives to check up on you. He looks at you with genuine care and concern, "Y/n the hospital is full of curses. I don't want you getting into any trouble there. What if our baby gets hurt from them?"

Husband!Kashimo instantly gets alert, sitting straight up and checking on you when you told him your water broke in the middle of the night while you two slept in each other's arms.

"Shit- Hajime wake up! My water broke!"

Good thing he hired the midwives. They were already prepared in advance knowing you were going to give birth soon so neither of you needed to panic into the hospital especially since he couldn't drive. He does try to get a license just for you though so he could help with transportation. Hakari helped Kashimo out too, not trusting him to be completely sane with a car and a driving instructor he might end up beating.

Husband!Kashimo is worried sick and upset that he can't do anything to stop the labour pain. The most he could do now is to try and relieve your pain and stress. Giving you a warm towel, a heating pad, making you some soothing tea, anything at all. It still hurts him though to see you like this.

Husband!Kashimo holds you close to him the moment your delivery is about to arrive. If he's being honest here, he's actually quite scared for you, afraid that anything might go wrong. He stays by your side the entire process, reassuring and motivating you.

"Keep pushing y/n, you're almost there."

"You're doing so well!"

"I'm proud of you and our son/daughter"

Husband!Kashimo lets you use him as a stress reliever. Crushing his arm and hands, he didn't expect you to have this much strength. He tries to calm you down, caressing you reassuringly or wiping sweat off.

The moment your childbirth finally ended, both of you are so happy and exhausted. Husband!Kashimo praises you for doing so good and being so strong. He caresses you, keeping you in a hug wrapped in his loving arms as you feel his tense muscles calm down. For a moment you even forgot about the delivery pain as you got distracted by his muscular body. His large veiny hands pull you close into the crook of his neck all snug, "Hah.. I think you broke my bones."

Well your crushing grip didn't break his bones but he definitely woke up with a bruise the next day.

Husband!Kashimo showers you and your son/daughter with so much love and attention. If he wasn't protective enough before, he definitely was now. In fact he'd be considered as overprotective at this point.

Husband!Kashimo doesn't hire anyone to do the confinement for you. Instead he does it himself, making sure to get you the best natural ingredients. He uses the freshest meat, the highest quality herbs and the finest tea. Surprisingly this ancient man knows a lot about women's healthcare, their pregnancy and confinement. Although he uses the 1600 Edo style rather than the modern one but it gives a unique treatment.

Husband!Kashimo gives you a baby shower consisting of practically everyone you knew from Jujutsu High. Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, Hakari, Kirara, and even the first and second years were there. He's not too fond of people and neither does he really call them friends but he does it just for you. Also he wants to show off his brand new family. It was a sweet heartfelt action which has you falling head over heels for him all over again.

Husband!Kashimo makes sure you get all the rest you need. He knows parenting isn't easy especially for the person who gave birth. Anytime you looked tired to him at all, he'll jump in and tell you he'll watch over your son/daughter even though he was already by your side to take care of the baby. Luckily this man has insane stamina, speed and efficiency to be keeping up with the baby's needs although he does tire out.

Husband!Kashimo showers you both with all his love and attention to the point he forgets he was looking for Sukuna. For a moment he even stops fighting just to take care of you both and make time for his family. The man is a fighter but he knows his priorities. Plus he'd rather leave his family out of his fighting business or he'll never forgive himself if anything were to happen to either you or your son/daughter.

Hugging you close and the baby safely on his lap between you two, Kashimo gives your son/daughter a sweet peck on their forehead as they fall asleep. He then leans in close to you and goes in for a kiss. His gentle, soft and warm lips intertwine with your own as you both share a loving, passionate kiss. Pulling away, he brings you closer to him and you rest your head on his chest. Sighing, he asks just in case, "is anything wrong?"

"Nah. I'm just happy that's all," you reply with an angelic smile looking up at him. His gentle expression smiling down at you with all the love in the world as you bring your hand up to caress his soft cheeks and the lightning marks under his eye which you always found beautiful. He leans into your loving touch, closing his eyes momentarily. Slight sparks of electricity sounded and you know it was a clear indicator of how happy he is right now. Being attached to you and your baby, you could see electricity go from one bun to the other in a mesmerizing pattern.

"Waiting 400 years for this was totally worth it."

Overall husband!Kashimo is a very protective father and husband to you and your baby. He'll do anything it takes to keep you both safe, happy and healthy. If anyone were to even lay a finger on the wife and son/daughter of Edo period's strongest sorcerer, you better believe they won't even get a chance to see their life flash before their eyes with Kashimo's lightning speed ending everything in an instant.