#therapy is hard to get into but cookie run is free

[shsl-gay-nurse]

alright so, for awhile iv used clover cookie to represent one of my ex’s in the CRUCK AU, however iv realized having a trans man represent a predatory transphobic cis woman was...bad taste is putting it lightly. I had no malicious intentions behind this to clarify, I just happened to see my ex in clover cookie due to some reasons but iv decided to go ahead and correct the issue, making a character that still resembles clover cookie- but has enough design changes to be its own character, edited a sprite of clover for this due to just, not having the mental energy to actually draw a design for someone who’s hurt me and my family the way paint has  here’s clover cookies twin sister, Red Clover Cookie, or “poison clover” as pepto likes to call her a friendly though somewhat dumb cookie with a love of art. though under her smiling face is complete scum. a manipulative cookie who cares most about getting what she wants out of others, not caring for their needs, or even how old they are... (TLDR: keep her the FUCK away from children)

[mtreebeardiles]

“ don’t be afraid, trust me. ” Evvy & Kaidan please

I know you also tagged me for the WIP Whenever but this ended up getting finished tonight so have the whole thing! :D

Also on AO3!

Kaidan had learned a lot over the course of his thirty-plus years of life. 

Biotics, weapons, tactics and strategies. Habits and methods and best practices honed down to a science. And maybe he didn't have the same, almost uncanny perception Everett did when it came to reading people, their motives, or his ability to let conversation flow by setting people at ease, but he did know how to read Everett himself. 

And right now, loud and clear, he was getting a single message: Everett Shepard was stressed out. 

"Hey Evvy…? Kinda getting the impression you're having a hard time, here."

Everett looked up, dark circles under his eyes, a bit of icing smeared across one cheekbone. 

"What makes you say that?"

Kaidan squinted at him, biting his lower lip before glancing around. Every surface of their kitchen was covered in piles of plates, cooling racks, and tins containing an alarming number of cookies.

"Just a hunch."

"I'm fine." Everett bent back to his task, lower lip trapped between his teeth in concentration as he piped a design onto a partially decorated gingerbread cookie. 

Okay, Kaidan thought, stepping into the kitchen. Time to run interference. He gently reached out, taking the piping bag from his partner's fingers, setting it aside before drawing Evvy to him. The stress must've been near critical, Everett giving no real resistance and sagging against him. 

"Talk to me?"

Everett sighed, resting his forehead against Kaidan's shoulder. Kaidan looped an arm around him, his free hand moving up to card his fingers through Evvy's hair. 

"What if your mom hates me?"

Ah.

He'd gotten the impression that Everett was nervous about meeting his mother ever since she'd sent confirmation of attending their holiday party -- and asking to come in a day or two earlier, to spend time with her son and his partner. For all Everett had been on board with the idea, Kaidan didn't think it had fully sunk in that he was involved in these plans, too, until well after they were set in stone. Once it had he'd gotten increasingly squirrelly, and Kaidan had thought he'd had him decently distracted until tonight, waking up to an empty bed and discovering his partner here in the kitchen, surrounded by the results of some frenzied stress baking. 

"I highly doubt she will, Evvy," he murmured. The key was not to make definitive statements; that would only encourage arguing. Self-deprecation and low self-esteem were an ebb and flow with Everett, depression and medication for it a matter of trial and error, always rocky towards the beginning of any therapy journey. Kaidan knew as well as anyone how it could be. "She's told me she's really excited to meet you."

"Me, or Commander Shepard?"

Kaidan pressed a kiss to his hair. 

"You," he whispered. "There's only one you now, Evvy. Yeah?"

He shifted, cupping his chin and encouraging him to meet his gaze. Everett struggled, instinct wanting to look anywhere else, but he managed it. 

"This is for friends and family only," Kaidan went on. "There's no need for posturing here. You don't need to perform for her, Evvy, or for anyone else, ever again. You've done enough; you are enough, just as you are."

Everett didn't say anything, inhaling shakily, managing a nod as he blinked rapidly. Kaidan brushed at his cheekbone, wiping away the icing. 

"She wants to meet you, as you are, the love of my life, the one who makes me happy every single hour of every single day just by being here," he whispered. "She wants to know that I'm happy, and Evvy? I'm happy -- and you make me even happier. You know that, right?"

He could hear Everett swallow, could hear another shaky intake of breath. Tongue darting out to wet bitten lips, and he nodded again. 

"Yeah," he whispered back. "But…"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I've never… I've only ever done this once, you know? Before Elysium. Too young for the obvious questions."

"Obvious questions?"

Everett sniffled. 

"You know, the sorts of things parents want to know: are we getting married, are we going to move somewhere together, what are you going to do if you retire from the Alliance, how are you going to help support my son? What about kids, are you having any and how many and I just… I don't know, Kaidan. I don't know how to answer that. What if she asks, or asks it later, you know, down the line and then I still don't have the answers and I can't… I don't know, Kaidan. I don't know if I can handle a family in a normal, regular sense, and I know that's fucked up and we need to talk about it and I'm sorry I'm not better already, and I have no idea what I'm going to do and I can't…."

"Evvy," Kaidan cut in, gathering him close again. "Evvy, shh… Slow down. Just breathe." He ran his hands against his back, letting Everett sink against him again. 

"I'm sorry," and the words were muffled against his shoulder. 

"It's okay." 

Kaidan pressed a kiss to his hair, holding him, letting the quiet settle until his breathing evened back out. 

They were valid questions, Kaidan knew, and he could appreciate why they would be eating at his partner like this. Worries a touch misguided, jumping to conclusions without talking to him first, but if he wanted to lay any of it to rest he needed to think through his approach. 

"I know all of that is overwhelming," he began at last. A gentle squeeze, and he knew Evvy was listening. "It overwhelms me sometimes, too. But you know what always helps?"

"What?"

He smiled, pressing another kiss to his hair. "Every time I feel like I'm going to drown in all those unknowns, I remind myself: we won. We survived against impossible odds, and we're here, and… we don't owe anything to anyone other than ourselves. And that means our life? How we want to build it, together? That's entirely our choice. We have that freedom. Fought and bled for it, and it'll be a cold day in hell before I let anyone try to rip it away from us."

He shifted, cupping Evvy's cheeks, running his thumbs over the trace of tears he found there. 

"So we break it down, piece by piece, and remember that the only answers that matter are our own." He cocked his head. "Sound fair?"

"…I think so."

He smiled, kissing his nose. 

"Will my mom wonder some of those things? Sure. Do I wonder about them, too? Yeah. But it's step by step, Evvy, and we'll be together for each one. So don't be afraid, okay? Trust me?"

"I do trust you," Everett whispered. "I just…"

Kaidan quieted him with a kiss. "It's you and me, Everett Shepard. No matter what."

A sigh, some of that tension bleeding from Everett's shoulders, and he kissed him back. 

"No matter what."

A whisper, a hope.

A promise.

Everett slipped his arms around him again, nuzzling his cheek to his. Kaidan held him close, content to stay that way a moment longer, grounding, grounding. 

"Hey Kaidan?"

"Yeah?"

"…I think I made too many cookies."

Kaidan smiled, shaking his head, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. 

"We'll figure it out.”

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Of Wolves and Witches

Pairing: Werewolf!Bishop Losa x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3088

For: covers the monster square for @adarafaelbarba 's moodboard fall bingo

TW: violence and accidental death via a nightmare/flashback sequence, brief mentions of mental, emotion, and physical abuse, PTSD, and covering up a crime scene

Author's Notes: The Mayans Werewolf AU that no one asked for, but i wrote it anyway. It starts out dark, but ends with fluff, I promise. This is my first time writing for Bishop, so please go easy on me... a big thank you to @itsjustmyfantasyroom for letting me run this idea by her and reassuring me that it wasn't crazy, and for encouraging me to write it.

Tags: @madamsnape921; @prurientpuddlejumper; @thatesqcrush; @welcometothemxdhouse; @raulesparza4eva; @teamsladsandgents; @rosequcrtz

He stormed into your living room, rage storming in his eyes. His aura was a swirling void of red and black. He shouldn’t have been able to break the locks on your front door, he shouldn’t have been able to walk right through your magical wards, but here he was. You straightened your posture and stood your ground, determined to not let him see how terrified you were.

“How did you get in here?”

“Really?” He pulled a glowing amulet from out of his shirt. “Not that hard when you have a little help. Benefits of having hunters for friends.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized what you were looking at. It was an enchanted amulet, one strong enough to get through your warding. You could only hope that it wasn’t strong enough to dampen your powers.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he smirked. “I know what you are. Makes me a wonder what else you haven’t been telling me.”

“Alex, get out! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

“You little bitch!” he spat back. “You think you can just break up me? You think you can just walk away?

“I can and I did. We’re done, Alex, it’s over. You don’t get to hurt me anymore. It’s not my fault that your fragile, insecure male ego can’t take a fucking hint.”

“Bitch, I’ll fucking hurt you whenever I fucking want to! And I don’t see your little biker friends here to protect you.…”

Then he charged, and suddenly you were on the ground with his hands around your throat.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”

You could feel the murderous intent radiating off him, and put your hands on his chest, trying to push him off you, but then you felt the release of kinetic energy through your palms, and Alex was flying across the room. He hit the wall, and you prayed to whatever goddess was listening that the sickening crack you heard was just the drywall breaking behind him. But then his eyes rolled back in his head, and his head lolled to one side, at what could only be described as an “unhealthy looking” angle. His lower body twitched a few times before going limp. He hung there for a moment, suspended in the air, pinned to the wall by your invisible force. Still shaking in terror, you finally lowered your hands, and Alex’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud.

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

“No!” you cried out, sitting bolt upright on your couch. You were covered in a cold sweat and your whole body was shaking. Your lungs gasped for air and your eyes darted around the room, searching for Alex, but he wasn’t there. You weren’t even in your old house anymore. You held your hand in your hands and took deep breaths. You were in your apartment, in Santo Padre, Alex was dead, and you were safe. The Saturday afternoon sun streamed in through the window, and the TV was still on, a marathon of Guy’s Grocery Games playing at a low volume.

“I must have fallen asleep,” you said softly to yourself, “it was only a nightmare.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and checked the time. It was only 3:30, plenty of time to shower and freshen up before Bishop would pick you up at 6. You stood, and after checking your locks and wards, made your way to the bathroom.

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

Despite your best efforts to push them down, the memories of what happened next came flooding back as you stood under the warm shower spray. You had been in shock, understandably so, but you were now exposed as a witch, and had to protect yourself. The logical side of your brain kicked in and you got to work. After verifying that Alex was dead, you had used your telekinetic abilities to rip the amulet off his neck. A quick examination verified that it had only been enchanted enough to allow Alex to breach your magical wards without getting zapped, but not enough to block your own powers. The enchantment was also crude and amateurish, probably done in haste by someone with limited knowledge of witchcraft. He had mentioned having hunters for friends, and you cursed yourself for not sensing that sooner. He hadn’t been one himself. You would have read that in his aura the moment you met him, but you also hadn’t sensed his dark side. The mentally and emotionally abusive and manipulative side, the one that turned violent during an argument when you had tried to call him out on his bullshit and break up with him the first time. You had ended up in the hospital, and when you confronted him the second time, you had friends with you to back you up. And after destroying the amulet, those were the friends you called on for help with your predicament.

The Blood Moon Motorcycle Club was a found family werewolf pack, led by Jack Reynard, a fearsome and intimidating Alpha. But Jack was fiercely protective of his friends and allies and didn’t hesitate to show up with four of his most trusted lieutenants when you called and tearfully explained your situation. They got to work cleaning up the scene and going through Alex’s phone and wallet. They found a business card for an elite and dangerous organization of hunters, and the contact’s name and number on the card matched up with one of the contacts in Alex’s phone. Jack told you to start packing your bags and to make sure that you included any magical artifacts that you had. You would spend the night at their clubhouse under round-the-clock security, and in the morning, they would get you out of town. Anything that couldn’t be packed that night would be shipped to you once you were settled elsewhere. They would dispose of the body; it wasn’t the first time they’d had to do so.

Jack had called Bishop Losa, president of the Mayans Motorcycle Club in Santo Padre, California. Jack and Bishop had served together in the Marines in their younger days, and the Mayans and the Blood Moons were allies as a result of that friendship. The Mayans were another found family werewolf pack and protected Santo Padre alongside the Galindo Pack. The town was a safe haven for all supernatural beings and the humans who lived there were none the wiser.

And now you had been here for six months. You worked in a bookshop owned by another a witch, Matilda, and lived in the apartment above it. In addition to the books, you also sold your homemade herbal teas and did Tarot card readings in the shop. 2-3 times a week you would bake cookies and muffins and sell those in the shop. Your teas were so popular that you now did tea making demonstrations on Saturday mornings. You were thriving but were still plagued by nightmares and PTSD and attended therapy once a week to help you work through your struggles.

And then there was Bishop. At first, the Mayan president and Alpha had been your friend and protector. You had been too traumatized to even think about pursuing a relationship, and so you both denied the unquestionable and inexplicable attraction. The more you got to know each other, the more you were drawn to each other. Two months ago, he finally made a move while the two of you had been outside getting some air at a party at the Mayans clubhouse, asking if he could kiss you. You’d been a couple ever since.

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

You had just finished lacing up your boots when you heard the sound of a familiar motorcycle pull up to your building. You ran to the window and looked down to the street. You saw Bishop getting off his bike and removing his helmet. You exited your apartment and ran down the stairs, meeting him at the entrance at the side of the building. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you close.

“Hola Querida, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, you’re not too bad, yourself, handsome.”

That got a chuckle from the Alpha. He removed one of his arms from around your back, revealing the bouquet of roses in his hand. “These are for you.”

“Bish, they’re gorgeous, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“And pass up the opportunity to surprise you? Not a chance.”

“Come on up. I’ll put these in water, grab a few things, then I’ll be ready to go.”

Bishop nodded and held onto your hand as he followed you up the stairs.

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

You held onto Bishop as the two of you went speeding down the back roads, away from Santo Padre. You loved dates like this: just you and Bishop on the bike, heading somewhere unknown, away from all the stress and bullshit of the day-to-day. His torso felt warm, sturdy, and safe. You could feel the vibrations from bike rattling through your body as you watched the scenery fly by. You’d been on the road for at least half an hour now.

“Almost there, Querida,” Bishop called back. “You’re gonna love this spot, I promise.”

After a few more minutes he pulled off the road and the motorcycle slowed to a stop. Bishop turned off the engine and stored the keys in his pocket. You both got off and removed your helmets. You looked around at the small, wooded area and smiled, breathing in the fresh air.

“This is nice, babe.”

“Oh, this isn’t the spot, “he told you, unlatching the soft fleece blanket and cooler from the back of his bike. He handed you the blanket. He took the cooler in one hand and grabbed your free hand with his other, interlacing his fingers with yours. “It’s this way.”

You walked for a few minutes down a short path before finally arriving at a grassy clearing. The view was breathtaking. You could see everything from your elevated perched; Santo Padre, the valley, green leafy trees swaying in the breeze, fields of wildflowers. A sense of calm settled over you that you hadn’t felt in months. You didn’t jump when Bishop came up behind you and slid his arms around your mid-section, instead relaxing into his touch and leaning against his sturdy frame. Bishop softly kissed your shoulder.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “this is perfect, this place in perfect. The energy here is so peaceful, and so alive. I love it.”

“I’m glad. I was thinking we could eat dinner, watch the sunset? And wait until the stars come out…You can show me all the constellations?”

You turned and slid your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.

“You would have thought that you were such a romantic?”

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay? Gotta maintain my tough guy image, you know?”

“Mmm…your secret is safe with me.” You pecked his lips once, twice, three times, each kiss lasting a bit longer than the rest. When you finally pulled your head away you noticed that the blanket was laid out on the ground with cooler sitting on top.

“Come on,” said Bishop, directing you over to it. You both sat down, and Bishop opened the cooler and started setting out its contents: sandwiches from the local deli, fresh strawberries from the farmer’s market, giant cupcakes from the gourmet bakery, a bottle of beer for each of you, and bottled water. He popped the caps off the beer bottles and handed you one. “Cheers.”

The two of you sat and ate, completely at ease with each other, and the conversation flowed easily. Bishop told you about the day’s antics down at the scrapyard, and you told him about the business plan you and Matilda were working on to expand the bookshop into the empty café next door.

“The theory is, that having a space to sell food and drinks will drum up more business. I can sell my tea and baked goods and do my demonstrations there. We would obviously need to hire some extra people to help, but I think we can make it work. We can’t tear down the wall between the buildings and expand without the proper permits.”

“I’m sure the town will approve whatever permits you need. They’re not going to say to ‘no’ to something that will bring more business into Santo Padre.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the sunsets,” you said, gazing at the red, orange, and purple hues of the evening sky. “How did you find this place?”

Bishop laid down on the blanket and you stretched out next him, placing your head on his chest.

“Me and the guys had just come back from a run,” he began, “Things didn’t go so well, and I was pissed, needed to blow off some steam so I just rode around for a while. Next thing I knew, I was here. I shifted, ran around for a while until my head was clear. I come back whenever I need to get away from everything.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for bringing me here. I needed this.”

Bishop caressed your cheek with his fingers. “You’re welcome, Querida. I’ll bring you up here whenever you want.”

“Bish, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course, Querida, you can ask me anything,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Can I see you in your wolf form sometime? There’s no pressure, only if you want to…”

Bishop mulled the question over in his head. You had caught him off guard with the query. None of the women he’d ever been with had asked to see his wolf form, not even his ex-wife. These days, he only shifted when it was absolutely necessary. There were advantages to being an older and more experienced wolf. He could shift at will and didn’t have to worry about losing control. But what if you didn’t like what you saw? What if he scared you away? He’d never forgive himself if that happened. Your soft, sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Bish, I’m sorry, forget I said anything- “

“No, it’s okay,” he kissed your forehead, “I just wasn’t expecting that question. I’ll do it if you want me to, but just be prepared, okay? I promise I won’t hurt you, but it might not be what you’re expecting.”

“I trust you completely, and I promise, I won’t be scared.” You looked at his aura and saw the hesitancy there. He was scared. “You’re not going to lose me.”

He cupped your face with his hand and his lips found purchase with yours. He had a way of kissing you that made your mind go blank and get lost in the moment, and you loved every minute of it. You kissed him back with equal fervor, hoping that somehow you were able to convey the trust and faith you had in him. The smile on his face when you broke away seemed to indicate that you’d been successful.

Bishop rose and walked a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused by his actions.

“Shifting is a lot easier without clothes on,” he replied with a wink, beginning to undress.

“I’ll close my eyes and give you some privacy then,” you giggled, shutting your eyes, but occasionally cracking one open to steal glimpses of his increasingly naked form; and damn if you didn’t like what you saw!

Bishop finished disrobing and crouched down on the soft grass. He breathed deeply and cleared his mind, focusing his intention. He felt his muscle start to ripple and his joints and bones shift. It didn’t hurt at his age; it was just slightly uncomfortable. All his senses sharpened. Body hair became fur, his hands and feet morphed into oversize paws with razor sharp claws. Even his teeth changed shaped, becoming longer and more pointed. A few moments later, he stretched and shook out his fur. He looked over towards you, still sitting there with your eyes closed, and cautiously padded toward you.

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

You could hear the footfalls of his paws, and then felt his large wet nose nudging your arm. You opened your eyes and saw a massive wolf standing before you. His fur was brown and black, with specks of gray in various places. His legs were strong, and his paws appeared large enough to take out a person with one blow. But his eyes, his eyes were gentle, and you would know them anywhere.

“Oh, Bishop, you’re beautiful!”

He sat and cocked his head to one side, appearing confused.

“Yes, you heard me correctly. May I?” You held out your arms to him. Bishop bowed his head and leaned forward, allowing you to embrace him and bury your face in his fur. “Your fur is so soft!”

He put his head on your shoulder and let out a contented groan when your fingers began to massage the spot right between his ears. You giggled at that. “I take it you like that, huh?” Bishop lifted his head and licked your face in response, making you laugh even harder. You massaged his head for a little while longer before resting your forehead against his. “Thank you for letting me see you like this. I love you, Bishop.”

There was suddenly a very naked, human man in your arms. Bishop’s hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning it for any indication that he might have misheard you.

“Bish- “

“Say that again, Querida.”

“I said, I love you, Obispo Losa.”

Bishop pulled you into his lap and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with more intensity and tenderness than he ever had before. Any doubts that you may have had about him not feeling the same quickly melted away. It went on for what felt like forever before the two of you had to pull away and come up for air.

“I love you, too, mi reina.”

You held onto one another like that for while before Bishop got dressed and rejoined you on the blanket. You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms and gazing at the night sky. And when a shooting star passed overhead, you made a wish that you could stay this way forever. No more looking over your shoulder, no more nightmares; just you and Bishop, ready to take on whatever the future might hold.

[howlingwolf23]

An au I mentioned before that I am expanding on

Bull opens up his own pub/brewery called The Iron Bull's Chuggers. He still helps run the Chargers but Krem is in charge now. Leliana and Cole run the nug sanctuary. Cole and Blackwall also open a therapy. Sera feeling like she should also do something starts her own business, Sera's Sweet Stuff. She admits it is a bad name but it works. Due to her many, Many pranks, no one buys anything from her. Being upset, she gets wasted at Bull's pub.

"Pish! It's udder pish!" She slurs, "ungateful bashtards!" "There, there, Let it out," Bull pats Sera's shoulder. "I worded hard and no one wants my stuff." She plops a bag of her goods on the counter. Bull had already heard the rumor of Sera's shop, "the people around here are a bit....reserved." "but how will they know if they don't try." Bull eyes the sack. He doesn't want whatever she brought but wants her to feel better. "Well let me be your first customer. I'll exchange your goods for my drinks. Sound good?" Sera pouts, "I guess. Tell me how it is tomorrow." She takes her drink and staggers to her bed.

Later that night, after closing up, Bull brings Sera's bag into the room, "Feeling adventurous, Kadan?" Dorian looks Bull over, seeing the sack, "if you come to kidnap me, it is too late, for you have already stolen my heart," and faints into the chair. Bull tosses the bag into Dorian lap, "a gift from Sera's shop." Dorian looks disgusted and picks it up with two fingers, "are you sure this is safe? It could be poison." Bull shrugs, "many poisons don't work on qunari. And poisons aren't Sera's style. I heard it maybe a sex shop. Like aphrodisiacs." Dorian scoffs, "you don't even know what's in here?" "She was sad. I was trying to cheer her up." Dorian sighs, "you big softy. She probably scammed you for free drinks." Dorian shrugs, "well let's see what we got." He reaches into the bag and pulls out an item. Dorian and Bull looks into his hand. "That's not what I expected," states Bull. "Are you still sure it's not poisoned? Like on accident?"

After another bad day at her shop, Sera staggered into Bull's Chuggers, "hey, Bull boy. I got goods if you wanna trade again." She slumps at the bar and sets another full bag on the counter. Bull laughs, "I got one better for you." Bull calls out to the pub, "I hope you all have been enjoying the snacks." The crowd roars, "good news, a fresh batch just arrived," he holds up Sera's bag. Many patrons rush the bar, pushing Sera to the side, "hey, you bunch of dick bags." Dorian pulls Sera aside, "hold on, you sailor-mouthed sweetie. Bull has a plan."

Bull laughs and calls out to the crowd, "enjoy because tomorrow, you'll have to have to pay. These have been delivered from Sera's shop." The crowd hushes. Murmurs of disbelief. Dorian answers, "Tis true. The wonderful treats were created by none other than our very own trickster. The trick here is trying to stop after having just one." The crowd hesitates for a moment until Bull eats a cookie in front of them. They gather a few snacks and return to their table. Sera sits back at the bar, seeing people poke at the treats, "what the name of Andraste's flaming ass cheeks is happening?" Bull shrugs, "Everyone likes a snack with their drink." "Don't give me that Nug shit." Dorian sits next to Sera and flips a cookie like a coin over his fingers, "well we couldn't eat all your treats with out getting a big tummy ache." Bull joins in, "and I thought you wouldn't mind if I shared." At that moment, Varric walks up and grabs a handful, "good work, Sera. This is a twist. Gotta remember this for my next chapter." Dorian passes Sera a mug, "you better drink up. Looks like you'll have a busy day tomorrow."

The following night, a tired Sera walks into the bar. She slumps at the bar. Bull walks over with a mug, "everything ok?" "This is all your fault. I haven't had a break all day. The shop was full of people all day." "Isn't that good? You're store is popular." "Too popular. I can't do anything all day. I had to run people out just to come here." Bull laughs, "yeah. That sucks sometimes. Did you bring me a cookie?" Sera scoffs, "as if." Bull holds back the mug, "I guess no drinks for you." Sera grumbles and hands over a cookie.

Sera will never admit it but she is very happy for Bull's help and always saves him a cookie. Bull won't tell her but he actually hates the type of cookie she saves for him but always eats it when she brings him one.

[jungshookz]

the one where yoongi hates his therapist but kind of likes her receptionist; lveb!verse

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; lveb!universe equal parts emotionally constipated and cheeky yoongi!! the man of our dreams!! i don’t really know what to categorize this drabble as but it’s cute and it’s sfw <3 

➺ wordcount: 5k 

➺ summary; yoongi hates going to therapy - but you and your dumb little hershey kisses make it a tiny bit better, he supposes. 

➺ what to expect; “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read la vie en bonsai just to get a feel for what yoongi’s like and why we’re all falling hopelessly in love with him!! 

                                          »»————-　♡　————-««

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“uh-huh, yep.” the smile on yoongi’s face drops as soon as he shuts the door behind him and he immediately rolls his eyes

well

that was an hour and a half of his life that could’ve gone towards something more productive

watching paint dry probably would’ve been more productive than whatever the hell that was

dr. i-don’t-have-chairs-but-i-have-beanbags basically spent the entire session asking him to list out things that he loved which he thought was going to be an easy task because he liked a lot of things!

and everything was easy peasy lemon squeezy until dr. glittery-purple-nameplate pointed out that yoongi kept saying that he ‘liked’ this and he ‘liked’ that and he’d never actually said he ‘loved’ anything once and then she went into the whole ‘why do you think you’re so scared of love?’ thing and his eyes rolled so far back into his skull that he actually saw his pink, wrinkly brain

he knows that she’s just doing her job but he’d really appreciate if one of his sessions with her just consisted of the two of them sitting in silence while scrolling through their phones

he even asked her one time if it’d be alright if they did that just so he could tell his friend (the one that sent him here) that he willingly sat through an entire session of therapy 

obviously she said no and yoongi resisted the urge to use that as an excuse to give her 1/5 stars on google reviews (unfortunately the option to give 0 stars isn’t available) 

it’s just really hard to believe that dr. are-you-more-comfortable-opening-up-to-my-homemade-handpuppet-rory-the-lion has 5/5 shining gold stars on basically every single one of her google reviews

yoongi should be happy that he’s going to one of the best therapists in the city but he’s noT because: he doesn’t even need therapy!

he doesn’t even know why he’s here!

he shouldn’t be in therapy!

he’s min frickin yoongi!!

what the hell does he need a therapist for??

what the hell does he need therapy for?!

he can literally solve his own problems

if he’s sad he just plays video games all day and also eats an entire pint of ice cream  

if he’s mad he just plays violent video games all day and aggressively shoves an entire pint of ice cream into his mouth

he’s spent his entire life coming up with different coping mechanisms for himself and he thinks that he has a pretty good grip on his emotions

the only one that he’s a little iffy about is obviously <3 love <3 but-

that’s not a big deal, is it?

yes, technically speaking, he’s “emotionally unavailable” or whatever, but he really doesn’t know why that’s such an issue

yes, the thought of committing to someone in a long-term relationship and the thought of saying “i love you” to someone makes him want to rip his skin off but again, he really doesn’t know why that’s such a big iSSUE

besides

emotional unavailability is sexy

whenever he tells someone that he’s incapable of loving and the sex we’re going to have in three seconds will be animalistic and primal and will also mean nothing to me whatsoever their underwear basically flies off their legs and out the window

so, again: what! is! the! big! problem!

the only reason why he’s here is because, as mentioned earlier, one of his friends set up an appointment for him because god knows he’s not here of his own accord

(also, she did it without asking him first, so he’s still a little upset with her, but she made him a whole batch of brownies as a form of an apology so now he’s a little less upset with her. just a little, though.)

he knows she means well and only wants the best for him but he’s starting to think that maybe she sent him here to torture him and not to help him

his original plan was to go for like one or two sessions and then end it there buT there’s just a teeny little detail he has yet to mention 

there is one (1) thing that keeps him coming back every week

he’d even go as far as to say that this thing is the only thing that motivates him to continue to waste his hard-earned money on these weekly appointments

and that thing is-

“yoongi!” your eyes light up and yoongi can’t help but smile at how excited you are to see him even though you literally saw him when he was checking in an hour and a half ago, “how was your session?”

“it was-”

“oh, wait!” you gasp before pressing a finger up against your lips, “i don’t know if i’m legally allowed to ask you that. pretend i didn’t said anything.”

“my session was fine-” yoongi ignores you as he folds his arms up on the counter and leans forward, “i’m still dead on the inside and the concept of love remains ever so terrifying, so… yeah! everything’s pretty much the same.”

“ah, yes.” you lean forward as well, “that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.”

“oh yeah?” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk, “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?” he asks in a particularly sultry tone and you grin in response

“you gotta stop calling me that before i fully fall in love with you, yoongi-” you sigh dramatically before flittering your lashes at him and yoongi laughs lightly, “well, it is what it is. one day at a time, right?”

“baby steps.” yoongi hums and you nod in agreement before suddenly perking up

“hey- you want a kiss?”

another reason why yoongi enjoys your company is because you keep a little gumball machine on your desk

except you despise gumballs (you told him that on his very first day here when he asked you why there were no gumballs in what was obviously a mini gumball machine) so you filled it up with hershey’s chocolate kisses instead (you change the flavour of them every week! last week they were the milk chocolate almond ones)

“a kiss? from you?” yoongi digs his hands into his pockets, “at least let me put some chapstick on first, darling.”

“you know what i mean, yoongi.” you roll your eyes playfully before plopping the machine down in front of him, “they’re the cookies and creme ones this week!”

"mhm. whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n.”

                                                                  ♡

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“you got it, chief.” yoongi forces a smile before promptly shutting the door behind him

he lets out a huff before shaking his hair out of his eyes

somehow the hour and a half in there felt more like four hours and a half

he kept looking at the clock and whenever he thought that at least a good twenty minutes had gone by, it’d turn out that only like two and a half minutes had gone by!

he feels like maybe once the door is shut that time just ceases to exist

today he was forced to talk about all of the romantic relationships he’s ever had and that’s something that he’s never really discussed with… anyone, really.

not even his closest friends! 

yoongi’s had a multitude of flings but he’s been in three serious-ish relationships (yes, he knows that’s a huge surprise) - obviously none of them worked out because he’s now in therapy for his intimacy issues, but still

needless to say, they messed him up pretty bad

see, his problem was (and you probably wouldn’t be able to guess it after looking at him) the fact that he… fell in love too hard and way too fast.

his first one was in high school - he was pretty much ready to marry this girl and even gave her a promise ring to which she freaked out and broke up with him on the spot 

(she said she felt that it would be better if they broke up since they were both going off to different universities and long distance relationships were tough)

(on the same day they broke up she immediately changed her facebook status back to single which yoongi thought was a pretty icy thing to do)

his second one was in his first year of university (not very long after the high school breakup because that’s how desperate he was to fall in love again) and he wasn’t super sure if he loved this person or if he just wanted to fill the empty void inside of him bUT after two months of dating yoongi asked them if they wanted to move into the same dorm together for the second semester of first year - they said no. 

and then they broke up with him. 

and yoongi ended up with a single-person dorm, which was great!

:D because it meant no one could hear him crying himself to sleep at night worrying that he would never find true love and that no one would ever love him :D

and finally, with his last relationship, he told [unnamed person because yoongi would like to keep that private, thank you very much] that he loved them, like, two weeks after they’d started properly dating (they’d known each other for a year before getting together so yoongi didn’t think it was that weird. it’s not that weird, right??)

long story short, they didn’t say it back, and instead responded with: “oh! thank… you?” and that was a pretty devastating (and humiliating) blow for yoongi and it was after that breakup that he decided that things just had to change

he couldn’t be this person for the rest of his life!

this pathetic wimpy shrimPY little ‘<3 i love you <3’ weak-ass PUNK

eventually he figured that if he just turned all his emotions off, he wouldn’t run into anymore issues

it’s like that saying mo’ money mo’ problems except in this case it would be less emotions less problems

and he thinks it’s been working out pretty well for him so far!

he’s never gotten attached to any of his one-night stands (although he can’t say the same for them, because c’mon - he’s an absolute catch)

and he kind of takes pleasure knowing that they want to have something more with him when he doesn’t want anything at all

he likes playing with feelings

it’s like dangling a piece of candy over a little baby

it’s fun!

…does that make him a twisted individual? 

is he going to go to hell for being a little emotionally manipulative?

also he always finds himself snickering whenever one of his friends started talking about how much they love (gags) their significant others

even the one who sent him here - she just started dating someone in her apartment building - is fully in love with her significant other (he might even go as far to say it was love at first sight for the both of them (double gag)) and sometimes yoongi has to shove a croissant into her mouth just to get her to stop blabbing about how fond she is of her boyfriend

after all this time, yoongi has finally figured out that love is merely a concept

it’s not real!

it’s an idea. 

love is not real.

so, again - yoongi genuinely doesn’t see the issue with being emotionally unavailable. 

this isn’t just him being stubborn or anything - he literally cannot come up with one single reason as to why being emotionally constipated is such a bad thing 

real life constipation is pretty bad but emotional constipation is totally fine! 

emotions make everything that much more difficult and he doesn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with it

being emotionally unavailable makes life easy, breezy AND beautiful!

...

of course, there is the one slight issue that sometimes pops into his mind

is he okay with being like this for the rest of his life?

because if he is, he’s… literally going to die alone.

sure, his friends will be there (unless they die before him, in which case he’s actually going to be alone), but even yoongi has to admit that platonic companionship and romantic companionship are two entirely different things 

is he truly incapable of falling in love with someone? 

he... doesn’t like thinking about that

he prefers to keep those gloomy thoughts tucked away in the dusty basement of his brain

he’d much rather think about-

“yoongi!” you greet as enthusiastically as always as yoongi rounds the corner, “have fun today?”

fun?

in therapy?

that’s hilarious.

“fun? oh, yeah.” yoongi snorts as he folds his arms up on the countertop, “i even got to talk to rory today.”

the two of you exchange knowing glances and you snort before quickly reaching up to clap a hand over your mouth

hey! 

you’re supposed to be supportive of rory’s role in therapy!

he has a very important job

one might say that his job of providing emotional support is far more important that yours, you measly little receptionist

you make appointments all day but rory saves lives 

“well, i’m… glad that rory is helping you during these trying times.” you clear your throat as you straighten up in your seat

if you get caught making fun of rory you’re dead meat

“mhm.” yoongi nods before leaning over a little, “now gimme a kiss, babe.”

your heart skips a beat in your chest and you can’t help but grin when yoongi turns his head and points to his cheek, “well?”

“milk chocolate caramel this week, babe.” you hum as you place the little gumball machine in front of him

“ooh, yummy-“ yoongi’s eyes widen in excitement as he cranks the metal knob, “so, you got any plans tonight?”

a single kiss plops out and he opens up the little metal flap to take it out

“eh, i mean i guess i do?” you shift in your seat before shrugging, “sort of.”

yoongi raises a brow as he unwraps the tin foil, “what’s that supposed to mean? you got a hot date or something?”

“...yep!”

wait what

yoongi pauses right as he’s about to pop the chocolate into his mouth

because he was… just kidding about that

that was supposed to be a joke

“oh!” yoongi clears his throat, “well, who- who are you… who are you going out with? tell me about them.”

“oh, you don’t wanna-” you shake your head, “the details are boring, i promise it’s nothing to geek out over-”

“no, c’mon! tell me.” yoongi shoves the wrapping into his mouth as the chocolate melts over his tongue, “give me the deets.”

“alright, well…” you reach up to push your glasses up, “i actually met him at the club that he works at! he’s a bartender. we’ve gone out on a couple of dates and he’s really nice! he’s super nice, i just- i don’t know. i guess i just- there’s not much of a spark, you know? he’s taken me out four times and he kissed me on the last one and it was nice but… i don’t know. i’m not sure i even know where i’m going with this story- b-but he’s nice!”

yoongi nods slowly as he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek

ah

well

good for you!

whatever

you’re going on a date and it’s whatever

it’s not like he cares

because if he cared it would imply that he has feelings for you

and in case it wasn’t already clear, yoongi is incapable of having any feelings at all because that’s just who he is

he’s spent years building his status as an emotionless android and he’s not going to let a stinky girl like you ruin it (you are not stinky. you smell like pears and it’s very pleasing to his nostrils. and he hates that he spent thirty minutes at the drugstore sniffing multiple shampoos until he found the one that he’s pretty sure is the one you use. and now his pillows smell like you.) 

“nice, nice…” yoongi mutters under his breath, “anyways, i should, um, probably go! i’m like, two minutes away from getting a parking ticket-” he laughs nervously before reaching up to scratch the back of his head

“oh! okay, yeah-” you take the gumball machine down and set it back down next to your monitor, “are you- is everything okay?”

yoongi’s no longer looking at you and you’re usually the first one to break eye contact so this is… odd  

“yeah, i just- i remembered i had a thing, so-” yoongi coughs into his fist, “yeah, i gotta go.”

“should i- should i put you down for next week, or-” you get up from your seat quickly when yoongi basically sprints towards the elevators

“yeah!” he flicks his wrist at you, “um, yeah- go for it. i’m just gonna-”

ding!

the elevator doors slide open and yoongi rushes in at the speed of light

“s-same time, or-”

the door glide shut before you get a chance to finish asking your question and you can’t help but feel a little… rejected?

even though you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re being rejected by

that was weird

that was weird, right?

it’s not just your imagination?

you frown to yourself as you plop back down on your squeaky chair

maybe your chocolates tasted funky or something?

you unwrap one for yourself before popping it into your mouth

…

no, the chocolates are fine!

what went wrong?

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you quickly go through what just happened

everything was fine

everything was normal up until the point you said you were going out on a date…

oOh, maybe you shouldn’t have brought up dates or anything like that

you don’t know too much about yoongi’s sessions besides the fact that he has intimacy issues but maybe the subject of dating was triggering for him?

damnit

you idiot!

this is why you could never be a therapist because you’d probably end up traumatizing your patients instead of helping them 

you should’ve just told yoongi that your plans tonight involved NO dating and it was just going to be you going to town on a pizza at home

it’s too bad

you were kind of hoping the reason why he started acting so weirdly was because he didn’t want you to go out on a date

here’s the thing: 

you… you sort of… have a little crush on yoongi. at least, you think you do.

you can’t help it!

he’s surprisingly very sweet and he has that boyish charm that you’re really into anD he’s also super goofy AND hello!!!! even when you’re not wearing your glasses you can see that he’s really attractive!!!

sometimes you find yourself daydreaming about that smirk of his 

it just makes you feel tingly 

...

what were you talking about again?

oh

right! 

you’re pretty sure the two of you use the same shampoo and you don’t want to be that person but... 

match made in heaven? 

you’d like to think so. 

you just don’t want to ruin this super fun and bantery and also kind of flirty relationship you have with him (though, now that you’re thinking about it, you can’t help but wonder if it’s actual flirting or if yoongi’s just doing his thing) and you knoW he’s definitely going to freak out if you’re suddenly like hey,.,. do u,.,. maybe wanna go out on a date or something.,,. because i think i have a teeny crush on you because even though you’re dead on the inside you are OBSCENELY charming and witty and attractive and everything i want in a significant other,.,.

yoongi would run for the hills if he ever found out you felt that way about him!

“good going, y/n.” you grumble to yourself as you lean back against your chair

well

you can worry about your yoongi-related issues later

you have a date with a cute bartender to get to

a cute, very nice bartender

                                                                 ♡

yoongi’s jealous.

at least, he thinks he’s jealous

this is weird, right?

because yoongi doesn’t get jealous!

he doesn’t get jealous over anything so whY does he not like the idea of you going out with someone who isn’t him?

yoongi squeezes his fingers tighter around his steering wheel as he stares ahead with knitted brows

he left the office like half an hour ago and now he’s just been sitting in his car in silence

and before you ask, yes, there was a parking ticket tucked behind his windshield wiper when he came down here

“jealous, jealous…” yoongi mutters to himself before shaking his head and letting out a huff, “no. i’m not jealous. i’m not!”

he’s not jealous because he doesn’t like you!

he doesn’t!

he likes flirting with you, it doesn’t mean that he likes you

of course, if he didn’t like you… he wouldn’t be grinning like an idiot every time you greet him

if he didn’t like you, he would’ve called you out on your lame ‘you want a kiss?’ joke a long, lonG time ago - instead he just lets you keep saying it because he knows you like making the same joke over and over again

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be coming back to therapy every week, for crying out loud

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have bought pear-scented shampoo for himself

he should be buying manly shampoos!

like… winter breeze!

or… musky oak??

or diRTy monster truck??!? (he’s not sure if that’s an actual shampoo scent for men, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was)

you know, those kinds of scents!

not frickin pear

yoongi pauses when he realises that he actually doesn’t mind the thought of waking up next to you

he feels his heart skip a beat and he gasps in surprise before quickly slapping his hand up against his chest

oh god

it’s happening!

“…son of a bitch!” yoongi groans as he slams his head back against the headrest, “are you kidding me?!”

he’s feeling!

NO!!!!

that, or he’s having a heart attack

(he’d rather have the heart attack.)

yoongi turns his head right as you exit the building and he doesn’t know where these emotions are coming from but all of a sudden he’s being flooded with what can only be describe as…

pure, blinding rage

“what the hell did you put in those damn chocolates?!” yoongi slams the car door behind him and you practically leap ten feet into the air

“i have no money in my wallet i only have a starbucks gift card and it has like three dollars left on- oh.” you immediately relax when you realize that you’re not about to be robbed

it’s just yoongi 

your eyes widen in slight fear when you see him storm his way over to you with his fists clenched at his sides looking like he wants to skin you alive

“you are unbelievable.”

“me??” you shake your head in confusion, “yoongi, what are you-” you pause to glance down at your watch, “why are you still here? you left, like, forty minutes ago-”

“answer the question, y/n!“ yoongi crosses his arms, “you did something to those chocolates! that’s the only reason why i’m feeling like this-”

“what- i don’t- is it your stomach or something?? maybe you’re lactose intolerant-”

“nO, i don’t mean i physically feel something-“ yoongi looks around before leaning in, “i’m feeling something.”

you frown

“yoongi, the chocolates aren’t special chocolates, if that’s what you’re implying. there are kids that come to the office, i can’t go around giving out marijuana infused hershey kisses-”

“i don’t want you to go out with your nice bartender guy!” yoongi blurts out, “because i… i want you to go out with me instead.”

you pull back in surprise before tilting your head curiously

…what?

“what do you- what are- what?” you ask incredulously before narrowing your eyes at him

did he just... ask you out?

yoongi swallows nervously

his pure rage has now been replaced by pure anxiety

“i’m saying that i-” yoongi shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “i’m- i wanna be the one to take you out. o-on a date. or whatever they’re called.”

“you wanna take me out on a date?” you ask dumbly and yoongi rolls his eyes

“a.. i mean i guess it’s technically a da..ate...” yoongi’s mouth goes dry and you can see the panic quickly filling his pretty brown eyes 

“we don’t- we don’t have to call it a date!” you perk up, “we can just... we can call it a... flirty hangout!” 

“a flirty hangout?”

“a flangout.”

“a flangout.”

yoongi takes a second to think it over

a flangout

yeah!

he can do a flangout because a flangout is noT a date 

“i’m sorry, i just-” you wave a hand in front of yourself, “i thought your whole schtick was that you didn’t believe in dates- flangouts- and ooey-gooey holding hands related situations, so why would you wanna-”

“because i like you!” yoongi groans before looking away from you and running a hand through his hair, “i think? i don’t know, okay? i know that i’m definitely attracted to- i just- you make me- i like talking to you after my sessions are over, and i like that you keep a gumball machine on your desk even though it still doesn’t make sense to me that you’ve filled it with kisses and not with actual gumballs, and i like that even though you know i, professionally speaking, have very intense intimacy issues, i-i like that you don’t judge me for it...” he trails off before letting out a breath and turning back to face you, “you can say no, obviously, but… i just think you’re really pretty and i think you know exactly what you’re doing whenever you ask me if i want a kiss.”  

you blink owlishly at yoongi and he immediately feels like he’s about to projectile vomit everywhere

see??

this is exactly what he means when he says that feelings make literally everything ten times more complicated

he just told you that he likes you and now he just made things awkward!

which means noW he has to go find a new therapist-

wait, no

nope! he’s not going to find another therapist - he’s just going to noT go to therapy

why?

because min frickin’ yoongi doesn’t need therapy-

“i do.” yoongi looks at you with wide eyes when you suddenly speak up

you do

did… did he PROPOSE to you?!

great!!

of course he did!!

his feelings are back and they’re even worse than before-

“i do know exactly what i’m doing whenever i ask you if you wanna kiss-“ you hold up a finger to correct yourself, “if you want a kiss.”

“i’m happy with either one of those options-“

“there is one minor issue, though.” you turn your phone around to show yoongi, “what am i supposed to tell sweet tae?”

“who the hell is tae- ohhhh, bartender guy.” yoongi winces as he glances at your texts briefly, “i forgot about him.”

“nice bartender guy!!” you push your bottom lip out in a pout as you scroll through your texts with taehyung

:-(

his last message to you was ‘excited for tonight!! see you soon :-)’

:-(((((((

“do you… do you genuinely like him?” yoongi asks cautiously

“i mean, i- i don’t noT like him, you know?” you sigh and reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “it’s just that… he’s so nice-”

“okay, i think we’ve got that part covered-”

“i don’t wanna break his heart!!” you whine, “what do i do?!”

“alright, here’s what you’re going to do-” yoongi clears his throat, “you go out with him tonight-”

“but i don’t want to lead him o-” 

“you go out with nice bartender tae tonight to tell him that it’s over. and you tell him that you’ve really enjoying spending time with him, but you feel like the two of you would be better off as friends. it’s simple, it’s clean, it’s straight to the point! no harm, no foul.” yoongi dusts his hands off before smiling proudly, “and then i’ll take you to the mcdonalds drive-thru for dessert.”

“i mean, i guess so…” you purse your lips in thought, “should i, like… if he kisses me or something, should i kiss him back?”

“you’re going to pity-kiss him?” yoongi gasps dramatically before tutting at you, “wow. and i’m the one in therapy.”

“wha-”

“now, c’mon-” yoongi places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, “let me drive you to your gross date so that we can go on our cool flangout afterwards-”

“you know, they’re doing a limited edition chips ahoy mcflurry right now-“ you grin excitedly as yoongi opens the door for you, “you wanna split one with me?”

“split one?” yoongi scoffs and bends down a little so he can look you directly in the eye, the corner of his mouth curling upwards in a teasing smirk, “baby, i’ll get you your very own mcflurry-”

(it turns out that taehyung actually planned to end things tonight, too - he said if you ever made your way back to his bar he’d give you a cocktail on the house! so, it looks like you can have your cake and eat it too.) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[moldisgoodforyou]

kickboxing

sorry i don’t care abt my titles and it clearly shows !!!! this one is dedicated to @sunnypogue and @everybodyscupoftea you guys should see the pegging jokes in our groupchat

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: it’s flirty at the start and then it’s smutty at the end

_____

“Where are you going?” Colin questioned as Rafe and Sophie came down the stairs, both dressed in workout gear. Rafe was normally adamant on running alone (“it’s like my therapy,” he’d said, only for James to mutter in response “maybe you should try real therapy”).

“We’re doing a kickboxing class. It’s free at the student rec center.” Sophie responded as she tied up her hair into a ponytail, swatting Rafe’s hand away when he tugged at the ends of her hair.

“You two? You’re trying this together?” James asked skeptically, eyeing the both of them.

“Yeah, why?” Sophie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she put up her arms in defense, pretending to punch Rafe’s arm. “I’m gonna be great at it.”

“You two are gonna kill each other.” Colin remarked dryly, shaking his head. “You’re too competitive.”

“We are not -” Rafe started in protest.

“Last week the kitchen was covered in flour because one of you started a fight when you were making cookies. Neither of you have a limit.”

“It was his fault -”

“It was your fault!” Rafe exclaimed, ducking his head when Sophie pretend-punched him again. “Sophie, if you hit me one more fucking time -”

“What. What are you gonna do.” She rolled her eyes and returned to bouncing on her feet, going to punch his chest a little harder this time, just because she could.

James snorted.

“Don’t encourage her.” Rafe glared at James as he caught her fist in his hand, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m kicking your ass in this class now. Just you wait.”

“I’d love to see you try.” She grinned and smacked a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon. The gym awaits.”

“My money’s on Soph.” James commented as he watched the two leave hand in hand.

“Oh, absolutely. He won’t stand a chance.” Colin agreed, a small smile on his face as he watched Rafe jog around to her side to beat her before she could open her own car door. “Fucking simp.”

____

After they both got all the equipment on and did a small warmup, the lesson began. “Everyone pick your partner, please!” The instructor announced, and Sophie turned to the guy next to her with a grin, about to open her mouth.

“Do you want to partner up?” The guy asked politely, offering his hand to shake.

Rafe stepped in between the two and slung his arm around Sophie’s shoulders with a scowl. “She has a partner, thanks though.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The guy apologized, turning away to look for someone else.

She raised her eyebrows at Rafe. “I was giving you the chance to pair up with someone more your skill level, baby.”

He scoffed. “Okay. Whatever. You’re just trying to piss me off.”

“I would never!” She mock-gasped, tugging off her shirt and tossing it at him to leave her in a sports bra and small tight shorts. The attire wasn’t out of place for the class, fitting in with the other girls, but Rafe narrowed his eyes.

“Sophie.”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not. You’re overthinking. Pay attention.” She checked her hip against his, turning her attention to the instructor as they went over a series of standard kicks and punches. Both of them were ultra-tuned in, carefully correcting each other’s form if something looked off and encouraging each other after a strong hit.

After he took her down - again - with a well-timed kick to the calves to sweep her off her feet, she clambered back up and shoved at his shoulder. “Hit me harder.”

“What? I am hitting you.”

“You’re going too easy on me.” She squared up again, bouncing on her feet. “Stop holding back.”

He squared up too, responding with a quick punch to her stomach that she deflected. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Come on, try harder.” She tried another series of punches that he easily blocked again.

“Okay, but don’t complain because you’re too slow.” He caught her off guard with a punch to the ribs, making her groan.

“Fuck. Okay.” She breathed out, trying to kick out at him. He caught her ankle easily, throwing her off balance and sending her toppling to the floor. She lay on her back for a moment, trying to catch her breath and glanced up at him. His smug little smile was enough fuel to get her up again.

“You alright? Need some water?” He asked, concerned, and reached out to her on instinct.

She took the opportunity to send a punch straight to his gut, making him keel over. “I’m fine, pay attention.”

“Jesus.” He breathed out, standing up again and tried to hit her again unsuccessfully. “You’re not mad at me, right? ‘Cause if you are, we should probably talk it out first. Did I do something?”

“No.” She retaliated with a kick to his hip, knocking him off balance again. “No, just trying to do this right. It’s like, pent up tension from when we used to fight for real.”

He laughed and hit her a little harder, taking advantage of her surprised reaction and hooked his leg under hers, knocking her to the ground and pinning her easily. “Got it. Maybe try harder though?”

“I could peg you, you know.” She muttered in his ear as he laid on top of her. He choked, eyes going wide, completely caught off guard.

“You could what?”

That was enough distraction for her to flip them over, despite his six foot three frame, and she grinned down at him, triumphant. “You heard me.”

It only took another moment for him to flip them back over and he pinned her down for real, letting her go after a few seconds. “I won.”

“Hardly.” She argued, accepting his hand to get up. “I almost had you.”

“By manipulation alone.” He retorted. “You’re really cute when you’re trying, though.”

“Fuck off.” She scowled, shaking out her arms. “Let’s go again.”

He grinned, doing the same. “You didn’t mean that.”

“Let’s go again? Yeah, I do, we have fifteen minutes left here.” She attempted a series of hits, batted away by him.

“No. What you just said. The - the thing.” He faltered, cursing when she kicked at his thigh. Even though she was fairly flexible, he still had quite a few inches on her and the balance of height and strength was clearly off.

“I absolutely fucking did.” Her eyes were bright and he was surprised she wasn’t holding back a laugh, but smirking instead.

“No. You’re just trying to catch me off guard. You and those tiny little shorts.” He retorted, letting his gaze trail over the small drops of sweat gathering across her chest.

She did the same - she’d been thinking the entire time about peeling the sweaty tank off his body and having her way with him in the locker room showers. (It’d never happen, of course, she’d die if they got caught, but a girl can dream.) When he checked her back into reality with a firm but gentle kick to the stomach, making her stumble backward, she shook her head. “Sorry. What?”

He smirked. “Pay attention. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am paying - god. You suck.” She breathed out, aiming a punch at his chin.

He batted it away easily. “Hey! Not the face.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a Leo.” She grumbled, pretend-swinging at his cheek just to antagonize him.

He just grabbed her wrist to stop her, using his height to his advantage. “I still don’t understand any of that. Can we get smoothies after this?”

“Fucking - focus, Rafe.” She hissed, wrenching her arm free and tried kicking at him again. He turned away from the kick and caught her with a couple punches to the shoulders, making her hiss. After a few deflected hits back and forth on both their ends, he managed to catch her off guard again and pin her, laying on her like a dead weight as she struggled.

“Aw. That was cute.”

She bit at his earlobe, making him giggle - literally - and scrunch up his shoulders.

“Sophie!”

“That was cute.” She retorted, flinging his own words back at him. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Only if you admit I’m better than you at this.”

“Never in a million fucking years.” She growled, shoving at him.

“Must you be so stubborn?” He rolled his eyes, only getting off her when the instructor clapped her hands to signal the end of the class. He tugged his gloves off and leaned down to give her a hand.

She laid there for another moment to catch her breath, eyes squeezed shut, then accepted his hand to hoist her up and leaned into his side as the instructor thanked everyone and handed out flyers about the next classes offered.

He glanced down at her, affectionately stroking his hand over the top of her head. “You good?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, letting him pull off her gloves to return them. “Just tired. And probably bruised.”

Rafe laughed, grabbing his keys and their water bottles then slung his arm around her shoulders to walk them out. “You said not to go easy. Do you want to go home, take a nap?”

“I’d rather do something else.” She muttered, matching his stride to walk with him out to the car.

“Huh?” He asked as he opened the car door for her, offering her a hand to step up. Once she sat, she fisted the front of his tank and pulled him close to kiss him, hard. “Oh, hello.” He mumbled against her lips, caught off guard.

“Hi.” She breathed out, pressing her forehead against his. “I really wanted to fuck you in the locker room. You’re so hot when you’re sweaty.”

His eyes went wide and he didn’t dare move, frozen in his spot. “We haven’t left the parking lot yet. We can go inside.”

Sophie giggled and pressed her hand flat against his chest, pushing him back. “We can’t do that. You know that.”

“Says who?” He leaned in again to kiss her hungrily, only to be pushed away by her again.

“We’re not breaking the rules. My place or yours?”

“Uh...check Find My Friends. See who’s home.” He jogged around to the driver’s seat, jamming his key in the ignition, and started up the car.

She swiped through her phone, then nodded. “Okay. My place, but we’re quiet anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.” She glanced over at him, then down to his lap. “Are you seriously already -”

“Yeah. Have been since you took your shirt off, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” He gave her a sheepish grin, his cheeks going red, and shifted in his seat. “And it does matter.”

“Why?” She leaned over and swiped her thumb over a drop of sweat from his forehead before it could fall into his eye.

“Why am I hard? You’re really asking that?”

“No.” She giggled, shoving at his shoulder. “Why does it matter if anyone’s home?”

“Because. I want to hear you.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s more fun that way.”

“Mmhmm.” She let her hand slide down to the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of her neck.

“So, uh, what was that, that you said earlier?”

“Hm?”

“The thing. Uh, when you pinned me. Just for a second though.” He refused to look at her, his face turning more and more red and she could see a clear tent in his shorts.

“Ohhh.” She grinned, leaning closer. “The pegging thing.”

“Yes. That. I thought you’d only been with one other guy?” He glanced at her and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, clearly nervous.

“I’ve been with four others -”

“No. Just sex. Like, all the way.”

“Oh. Yeah, just you and someone else.” She nodded. “What are you getting at?”

“So you, uh.” He pushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead, glancing at her again. “You pegged this guy?”

Sophie burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Rafe, what?”

“You said it so casually earlier! Like you’ve done it before!” He exclaimed, reaching over and grabbing her hand. “So you haven’t?”

“No, oh my god, I haven’t pegged anyone.” She giggled, kissing the back of his hand. “You’re so dumb sometimes.”

“Why’d you bring it up then!” Rafe retorted, all the tension gone from his body.

“I just wanted to catch you off guard.” She grinned, sliding her hand up his thigh and grazed over his hard cock in his shorts, putting on a teasing tone. “Why? Do you want that?”

He jerked his leg, cursing as he bumped his knee into the steering wheel. “I - I thought only lesbians did that.”

“No. I don’t think so. Julia -”

“No!” Rafe exclaimed, slapping his hand over her mouth. “I do not want to hear about the girls and their sex lives -”

She licked his palm to get him to let go and immediately regretted it, tasting the sweat. “Oh my god, no, nothing happened. She almost hooked up with a guy that asked her to but she got too scared.”

“Huh.” He wrinkled his nose, more focused on trying to get the mental image of Julia out of his head.

“I’d do it, you know. If you wanted me to.” She raised her eyebrows at him, dropping the teasing tone.

“I have no doubt you would. But I think that’d be too much power going to your head.” He grinned as he pulled into her driveway. “Plus you hate taking control in bed anyways.”

“That is not - I’ll fucking show you.” She protested, hopping out of the car and striding into her house without waiting for him. He just snorted and followed her in and up the stairs, unsurprised that she took it as a challenge. When he made it up, a couple seconds later, he opened her bedroom door to be greeted by her leaning against the wall in the tiny little shorts and her sports bra, her shirt and shoes discarded on the floor.

“Hello.” He greeted, amused, and closed the door behind him.

“I want you undressed.” She replied evenly, eyeing him over.

“That’s hardly fair, you’re still dressed.” He shot back but kicked off his shoes anyways. He loved when she got like this, all bossy and demanding - it just reminded him of what they were like before they dated and how many times he wished their arguments before could end in kissing and making up.

“Okay.” She opened her arms wide. “Have at me.”

He grinned and tugged off his tank top, striding toward her. “Thought you were taking control?”

“I am, I’m telling you what to do, but you get to do the work. I’m tired - Rafe!” She squealed, giggling as he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.

“Yes ma’am?” He hooked his fingers into the sides of her shorts, hovering over her and raised his eyebrows as he glanced up. “You gonna instruct me, or…?”

“Mm. Pretty sure you know what to do from here, actually.” She leaned back with a smug smile, intertwining her fingers behind her head.

He snorted and dragged her shorts down her legs. “Brat.” He pressed teasing kisses up her thighs, spreading her legs apart slowly.

She shuddered in anticipation as the cool air hit her, sitting up a little bit. “Rafe.”

“Yeah.” He kissed everywhere but where she wanted, making her squirm. He dug his fingers into her thighs and dragged the tip of his tongue up the inside of her thigh.

“Please.”

“Please what.” He kissed up her stomach, making her huff in frustration as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Please, just - oh, fuck.” She gasped as he slid his thumb over her clit, slipping two fingers inside of her easily as he grazed his teeth over her collarbone. He laughed at how easy she was to please, how predictable she could be sometimes - though he did suppose he knew her body like the back of his hand now. She whined quietly underneath him, pressing her hips toward his hand. “So good, Rafe.”

“Louder. I want to hear you.” He encouraged, curling his fingers toward himself. It only took a few more breathy moans and quick passes of his thumb over her clit before she was whimpering against his lips, unable to stay quiet. “C’mon, Soph, want you to come for me.”

She nodded, desperate, as he worked her body expertly. When she finally came, she curled her arm around his neck, holding him tight to her. “Fuck, I love you,” she breathed out, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Love you too.” He mumbled against her collarbone, nipping at the skin. “Even if you are a brat.”

“You love it.” She giggled, leaning back enough so she could wrestle her sports bra off, struggling a little as it stuck to her skin.

He helped her tug it off, kicking off his shorts too. “Are we still pretending you’re in charge here, or…?”

She was too tired to argue but scowled anyways, gesturing loosely at the nightstand. “Yeah. Grab a condom, I want you to fuck me. Can we get sushi later?”

Rafe laughed, leaning over, and grabbed a condom, rolling it down himself. “It’s Sunday. Our place is closed.” He teased his cock against her, glancing up at her for approval.

She nodded, sliding her hand up her back to comb her fingers through his hair. “Right. Um - fuck -” She gasped as he entered her. “Thai?”

“Nah. Burgers?” He thrust into her hard, making her moan. “Or we could go downtown for that other sushi spot?”

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, trying her best to think straight when he was fucking her, but felt like her brain was foggy. “Uh - what? Don’t remember.”

He smirked and continued his steady pace. “Can’t think?”

“No - just, fuck, right there, faster.”

“Pizza instead?” He pinched her nipple, grinning when she moaned just a little bit louder. “Close?”

“Yes, please - not the pizza -” She chased his lips with hers, meeting him in a heated kiss.

He laughed, thrusting a little harder, groaning as she tugged a little too hard on his hair.

“Sorry - didn’t mean to -”

“No, fuck, felt good.” He corrected quickly and thrust a few more times after she came with a breathy moan, reaching his own orgasm. He lay on top of her afterward like dead weight, panting hard. “What did we decide?”

“I dunno.” She replied, dropping her head back against the pillows. “I can’t think straight and you’re over here having a full on conversation like you’re putting in zero effort.”

“It’s all that work at the gym.” He quipped, rolling off of her and tossed the condom in the trash. “C’mon, you need to shower.”

“Noooo.” She whined. “I’m starving. What do you want?”

“Whatever you want to decide. The faster your slow ass is in the shower, the faster we can go eat.” He encouraged, stretching out. “Go.”

“Come with me. Wash my hair.” Sophie argued, tugging on his arm. “Did I win today?”

He snorted. “Like, one round out of six. Loser buys dinner, that’s what we agreed, right?” He teased, giving her a short, chaste kiss before dragging himself up.

“That hardly seems fair.” She grinned when he stood and followed, rising up on her toes to peck his lips quickly. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He should have known what was about to come out of her mouth just by the smug smirk that graced her lips. “I’ll peg you if you buy dinner.”

“Jesus Christ, Sophie.”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46

[ithehellisbucky]

For You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: “I love you isn’t always enough.”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Angst to end all angst. PTSD, depression, spiraling, fighting, break up, sad shit.

Author’s Note: I meant for this to be out on Sunday because I wrote it last Monday but I forgot. Anyways this is really sad, but I'm proud of myself because I wrote the ~spoiler alert~ "breaking up to protect the reader" but its the reader doing to breaking up.

~

When it takes a century to find happiness, you thought it would stick.

From the moment that Bucky walked into your life (literally, walked into your bookshop) you knew that you wouldn't leave him behind any time soon.

There was something about him that would float around in your heart forever until you saw him again, and then the process would repeat.

The first 6 months of your relationship was a honeymoon phase. Waking up to him staring at you in adoration every morning. He stayed at your apartment every day. Cuddling in the middle of the night when he had nightmares, holding him when he was scared to touch anything.

Showing him your love in any and every way you could. Making misshapen pancakes together, and him showing you his favorite movies and books from the 30s and 40s. Pure happiness.

But there was something about Bucky that couldn't sit still. He can't live your little happy life knowing that there is someone out there.

It had caused many fights, you never wanted him to go back to crime-fighting, and he wanted to prove himself. And as much as you tried to tell him that he was already a hero, he was persistent that he had to make up for things that the man that used to live in his brain did.

It drove you crazy.

You were laying on the couch reading a book and absent-mindedly watching a mediocre television show you've seen twice before. You hear each of your locks click twice and from the weight of his footsteps and settle back down into comfort.

"Hi, baby." Bucky walks over to you and presses a kiss onto your forehead.

"Hi honey, how was therapy." You ask as he snuggles into your embrace and you put your book down.

"Boring," he exclaims as you stroke his hair.

"Boring is better than bad, I'm proud of you," He smiled at you and pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

Instead of saying the 'I love you' that you wanted to say, you replaced it with: 'I'm proud of you', 'Stay safe', and 'honey' 'baby' 'sweetheart'.

It wasn't what you wanted, but it'd have to do until your love was ready to hear it.

"I'm making pasta, when do you wanna eat?" You exclaim, wrapping your legs around his torso, and realizing that you are fully entangled in a cuddlefest.

"Maybe an hour, I'm never hungry after Dr. Raynor."

You nod and can tell he understood your response.

You hold each other in blissful peace, eat your food, and go to bed. Bucky does things a certain way to sleep. He wraps his body around yours and sleeps closer to the door, so if someone tried to attack he could protect you in an instant. When he can't sleep he goes into the living room and lays down on the floor to watch tv. He's never slept comfortably before, so it's hard to sleep in safety.

Apparently, tonight was one of those nights. You woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

You reach over and notice that the bedsheets are sweaty and his shirt is on the ground near the door. Bucky was fine with his arm around you, it took some time to show him that he's worthy of love- prosthetic included.

You walk towards the door wearing only one of Bucky's shirts and underwear with little flowers all over it.

"Hey Bucky, are you okay..." Your voice trails off when you notice Bucky staring at the tv with hollow eyes and an unrelenting gaze. "Baby what's wrong?" You slowly walk closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, even though all you want to do is run to him and hold him.

At first, you think that he doesn't notice until he turns around and shows tear-brimmed eyes. "He gave away the shield."

He can't seem to say anything other than that, so you reach over and hold his face to your neck. You help him get up and walk over to your room and your bed, not bother to pick up his bedding or turn off the tv. You lay gently down in bed, and hold him close to you and let him sob into your chest.

The next day Bucky's acting odd, to say the least. But you don't push it, he's been through enough in the past 24 hours. Finding out that the pretty much only constant in your life was in the hands of a stranger isn't something you can take lightly.

He left in the morning and he didn't come back until late at night. When you ask him where he was he shrugged and ate a single-serving pizza in a record three minutes then went straight to bed, leaving you eating leftovers by yourself in the dark. Not exactly the perfect day.

The same happens for the next 2 days, and then the next day he doesn't come home, and all you get is a text that he'll be home back Sunday. That leaves you with paralyzing fear for the days he's gone, and when he comes back to you at 3:30 in the morning he has a black eye and knuckle-shaped bruises all over the parts of his body you can see, which is no small feat considering the super-soldier serum pumping through his veins.

"Where the hell have you been Bucky?" You yell once he's sat down on the couch like nothing ever happened.

"I was doing stuff." He shrugs and clicks on the tv.

You snatch the remote off the table and turn it off. "You can't just disappear for days and act like nothing ever happened!"

He rolls his eyes and gets up, beginning to walk towards the bathroom "Don't walk away from me! You don't get to walk away from this!"

He turns around and glares at you with the gaze that you've seen him use plenty of time at guys who were checking out your ass at bars.

"Why the hell can't I?" He spits out and towers over you.

"Because this is a relationship and you can't walk away whenever you want to and expect everything to be fine!" His anger doesn't intimidate you. "What the fuck did you expect me to do? Bake you cookies and shampoo your hair when you got home?

I'm not your bitch and you're not a liar, so tell me what's going on." You exclaim, hoping that he'll tell you something other than what you know is really going on.

"I was out with Sam."

"Oh my god," you sigh, turning away from him.

"There's this group called the flag smashers, and they're trying to cause a revolution or something," you run your hand through your hair, "and the new Captain America was there, and he's not a good guy, so me and Sam were-"

"No. No Bucky no." He seems slightly taken aback, but what honestly was he thought was going to happen.

"I don't care if you run around beating up bank robbers or making amends for things you didn't do, I do care that you lied to me about something that could've killed you."

"I know it's just-" He says, scratching his head with his metal arm.

"It's just what? That you want to help people? There are plenty of things you can do to help people other than getting beaten up Bucky!"

You take a deep breath and think it through more, "you know what, I'm blowing it out of proportion, you were just trying to help Sam and you were scared, let's just talk to Dr. Raynor and figure something out tomorrow."

You turn to go to bed and notice that Bucky isn't following "what's wrong?"

Bucky takes a deep breath "I'm not seeing Dr. Raynor anymore."

You turn around, angrier at him than you've ever been, "what?"

"John, the new Captain America, wants me to be focused on the mission, and therapy is just a distraction."

You can practically feel anger boiling through your veins. "Do you even hear yourself? You sound crazy. I would be fine if you went on missions or teamed up with Sam, but you can't stop going to therapy Bucky."

"Yes I can; the whole point is that I can make my own decisions. It's my choice." Bucky exclaims, yelling at you louder than you thought he ever would.

"Okay. If you think that making decisions is about ruining your life because you can, go ahead." You look him straight in the eyes, all fear gone. "you can quit therapy and implode all the progress you've made" you take a deep breath "and get out of my house."

Bucky drops all of his anger and steps back in shock and fear. "What?"

"I'm not going to let you ruin your life Bucky. When I met you, you wouldn't even let me see your arm. I've realized, that you are dependent on me, and that's not okay Bucky, because you deserve better than only having one good thing."

You were holding back tears, but in this moment you needed to help Bucky, and the only way to do that was to make sure he would be okay. And he can't do that if you are the only thing in his life. "You had nothing for 70 years Bucky, and now that you have the whole world you can't keep holding on to one person. You lost Steve, and then you were desperate to find something else to hold onto. You need to find yourself Bucky."

"No, no please don't do this. I- I love you." He starts crying and it takes everything in you not to run to him and hold him.

"Love isn't always enough Bucky." You turn around to leave your apartment in the middle of the night, "I love you more than anything, but I can't let you ruin your life. Go back to therapy, Buck, I'll be here. I'll wait. Go live the life you finally have Bucky. I love you."

You walk out your door and the second you close it you start sobbing. You wander out into the street and wonder if you did the right thing.

You hoped and you begged and you pleaded that Bucky would discover the world that he deserved. You wouldn't abandon him, you would make sure he stayed alive, he just needed time to be free. This wasn't for you, you reminded yourself, it's for Bucky.

Always for Bucky.

Requests are open!

Prompt List

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

[hanoella]

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 4)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 4 Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Taglist!: @vicmc624

Read Part 1; Masterlist

The icon that marked where you were currently typing in your text blinked as you bit your lip. Looking back from where you were sitting at the kitchen table, you took stock of the open pantry once again. You were low on just about everything. With physical therapy exhausting your shoulder, it was hard to find the energy to lift any heavy bags. You had texted Sam for help, but unfortunately he was out of state.

“Bucky’s home, just ask him to go with you. He won’t mind” He had texted back.

You slouched back into the chair and groaned. You had only seen him in passing since he had helped you with the furniture. What was he, your live-in-caretaker? Was he just there to help you up and down the stairs and help you across the street? Sliding onto the floor, you made a small grunt as you felt your back straighten out and adjust to the floor. Resting a moment, you held your phone up and stared at the blinking bar. You hadn’t texted him before. Should you just call him? Or knock on his door? Ugh, why was this so hard. Whatever.

“Hey Bucky, I’m having trouble carrying stuff right now. Would you mind helping me out with grocery shopping sometime today or tomorrow? If not, no worries.”

Without a second thought, you sent it and set your phone down next to you. It was around 1PM, the only thing you having done up until then was getting dressed while sipping on coffee. Opting for a lazy look, you had worn soft leggings with an oversized sweater and fuzzy socks. Two simple braids and a headband kept your hair out of the way for when you eventually practiced. Only a few more weeks until you practiced with the actual orchestra. You should probably figure out something to wear besides lounge clothes.

The buzz on the floor caught your attention and you took a peak at your home screen

1 New Message:

Bucky Barnes: Sure, is now good?

Shoot. You quickly got up and walked to the bathroom. Your hair wasn’t too messy. Why do you look so tired? Opting for some mascara, you texted Bucky back before digging around in your makeup bag.

Yeah, meet at my car in a minute?

---

Bucky pocketed his phone and took a quick look in the mirror. Should he shave? Scratching his beard, he made a face before deciding against. It would take him more than a minute. Why didn’t he just say thirty minutes from now? Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed a jacket and walked out of the apartment.

As he walked over the freshly fallen leaves in the driveway, he opted for leaning against your car. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head to look out over the water. It had been quiet lately, just chilly enough to silence the summer chorus of buzzing and croaks. Now all that was left was the occasional honking of geese flying overhead.

He had only been there for a couple of minutes when you came out onto the porch. You had hastily thrown on some brown leather boots, the left one still untied. The little bit of mascara and lip gloss you put on made you feel better about not looking like death. It was nice to do a little something, even if it was just the grocery store.

“Hey!” you said, slightly breathless as you bounded down the stairs, keys jingling in your hand.

Bucky echoed your greeting back to you with a small smile and wave.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You said, clicking the key fob to unlock the car.

“Oh it’s no problem. I didn’t really have much to do anyway.” He said, ducking his head to sit in the passenger side seat. He noticed how as soon as you closed the door, you clicked the locks shut. Then you brought your left heel up on the edge of the seat so that you could tie your shoe.

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. Usually, I don’t need too much help, but I need cases of waters and stuff like that. I was gonna get someone to help me at the grocery store but I realized I’d still be left in a lurch once I got home. I figured if you needed, we could just get groceries together this time,” you explained while double knotting the laces.

Starting the car and putting on your seatbelt, you looked behind you out of habit to make sure you weren’t going to hit anything as you backed out of the driveway.

“Huh. It looks like it’s going to rain.” You said, observing the darker clouds and the wind picking up. Putting the car in drive, you started down the driveway.

“Music?” You offered, gesturing towards the radio.

“I don’t really know what’s been playing these days… or for the last sixty years if I’m being honest.” At least it’s nice not to have to lie about it, Bucky thought.

“Well, we have a lot to catch you up on then.” You said, stopping at the end of the driveway and grabbing your phone. Scrolling through your music, you hit the bluetooth button on the console.

“This playlist has all my favorite classics on it. Feel free to skip anything you don’t like.” You said, handing him the phone and turning onto the road. The music started, prompting Bucky looked down at the phone. September- Earth, Wind & Fire.

---

Four songs later you were at the supermarket, grabbing a cart and discussing favorites.

“That last one was good too. Which one was that?” Bucky asked.

“That’s Stolen Away on 55th & 3rd. Dave Matthews Band. Now mind you, some of those are way older than others. The only thing they all have in common is that they’re all at least ten years old.”

“Huh.” He’s really missed out on a lot.

The two of you continued chatting as you went through the various sections. A couple cases of water. A bag of salad. Deli meats and cheeses. Bread. Ground beef. Pasta and pasta sauce. The topic turned to older music from Bucky’s time.

“I’m surprised you have heard of her.” He said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Well, I’m going to be honest, the only reason I have any knowledge of it at all is because I had to take a lot of Music History classes in college. For whatever reason, they thought that to play music, you needed to know every which way that it’s evolved throughout the years. Though, I have to say,” you paused, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, I’m kind of glad I did.” You looked up at him slightly, face just a tad warm as he met your eyes. You both looked away and he coughed awkwardly. Feeling embarrassed, you scan the shelves of snacks before hearing him quietly say behind you-

“… I’m glad you did too. It’s different. And kind of nice to talk to someone about it. Who actually knows what I’m talking about.”

Trying to keep your smile small, you continued to look at the array of cookies on the shelf. A hand passed over your shoulder to take a pack of shortbread cookies.

“Hmm. Shortbreads.” You say, holding your arms behind your back. “Verrry interesting.”

“What?” He replied defensively.

“You can tell a lottttt about a man by his snack preferences.”

“Well, what do shortbreads say?” Bucky asked, leaning his forearms on the handle of the cart so that he was now eye level with you. It was too late this time to hide your smile. You turned back around to grab a pack of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

“If I tell you what they mean, you’ll just pick the kind that you think has the best traits. You’re not fooling me anytime soon.” You said with a laugh before you whisked yourself around the corner.

“Hey, that’s not fair, come back!” He pushed the cart around the corner where he ran into you hugging Sarah. The boys were with her and they went absolutely ballistic.

“Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!” They shouted as they bombarded him.

“AJ! Cass! Stop acting crazy in the grocery store!” Sarah said, reprimanding them. You chuckled at the sight of Bucky being slowly overwhelmed by the two boys. He pried them off his legs and crouched so that he was eye level with them.

“Hey, I missed you guys. I haven’t seen you guys since the last time Uncle Sam and I came back-”

“-from fighting bad guys, right!” AJ said, getting a little too excited and causing Sarah to give him the look. Bucky tried not to laugh and held a finger up to his mouth to signal that they needed to be quiet.

“Yes, from fighting bad guys.”

You turned towards Sarah with a grin and put your hand on her arm.

“We’ll have to have all of you over, come see the new house. Will you text me a day next week when you, Sam, and the kids are free?”

“That sounds great. I’m so glad you got to move down here. I’ll let you know about next week!” Sarah said. She also walked around the cart and gave Bucky a hug. He returned it but glanced towards you nervously; You were already looking away. When they pulled away from each other, Sarah glanced in your direction and then at Bucky, a knowing smile on her face and eyebrows wiggling. Bucky made a face with wide eyes, letting her know to cut it out. Sarah laughed slightly while saying goodbye:

“It was good to see you, Buck.” Sarah said, laughing as she rolled the cart away, AJ and Cass in tow, who were both shouting goodbyes at Uncle Buck.

“Good to see you too…” He trailed off in her direction.

“Man, those boys really love Uncle Buck.” You said teasingly, making him jump slightly and turn around. You laughed and walked towards the next aisle, leaving Bucky red in the ears.

---

It was just starting to rain when you parked the car in the driveway. You grabbed some of the lighter bags and ran up the steps, hurrying to unlock the door. Bucky was piling on the grocery bags as the rain got heavier. He hauled everything inside as you held the door open for him. He lifted the groceries up onto the kitchen counter and made his way down the stairs again.

“Still have to get the cases of water.” He explained in response to your confused face. The rain was still getting heavier. Hauling the two jumbo cases onto his shoulder and carrying the last one by the plastic in his hand, he made his way up the porch, slower this time. You held the door open, looking incredulously again at how easy it was for him as he passed.

By the time he had set the waters down, you had grabbed a towel for him, extending it to him while looking away at from his drenched shirt.

“Thanks,” he said, toeing off his shoes and drying his hair with the towel before draping it over his shoulders.

“Please, let me make you some tea. You must be freezing.” You said, already digging through the pantry for some.

“Well, if you’re offering, I won’t say no.” He said, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

“Yeah, hold on, it’s kind of dark. Let me turn on the lights…” You trailed off as the light switch did nothing. Flicking it a few times back and forth, you sighed.

“I’m so sorry, the real estate agent told me it’s pretty easy to lose power in this area since there’s so many trees. They usually have it back on pretty quick though I’m told.” You said, now digging through another cabinet.

“It’s completely fine, you can’t control that. I’ll just take a raincheck-”

“Found it!” You said, cutting him off and proudly presenting the gas-powered single burner. You set it down in front of Bucky who watched as you also grabbed a tea light and a lighter from in the drawer.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” You asked while lighting it.

---

Three more tea lights and a kettle of hot water later, Bucky was sitting with the towel draped over his shoulders, sipping on the warm cup of green tea. The flames created flickering shadows as you added the pasta to the pot of boiling water.

“I knew this was going to come in handy. I’m glad I saved it.” You said, setting a timer on your phone as you leaned on the counter across from Bucky.

“Why do you have it in the first place?” He asked curiously.

“I kind of had to hop around for a little bit before I got down here. I would stay in hotels but I didn’t want to eat out every night so this came in handy. Ole reliable.” You said, looking down at one of the tea lights.

There was a moment of silence before you pursed your lips.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, setting the cup down.

“Has Sam told you… how I ended up here?” You asked, now looking straight at him. The look on his face told you the answer before he could respond.

“I see…”

“Hey, I’m sorry, I-”

You held up a hand to cut him off, soft smile on your face.

“No, it’s okay. I told him that if it ever came up, he could talk about it. I’m pretty open about it. How much did he tell you?” you asked, wrapping your hands around the cup to absorb some of the warmth.

“Just the basics. You two were together, then he got… violent. And you trying to leave.” He said, looking down into his cup.

“Yeah, that just about covers it… He kept following me after I got out of the hospital so I had to get a rental car and hotel hop for a while… When I got the house down here, I finally got my actual car and just booked it here. He’s never been to Louisiana before and he doesn’t know that Sam lives here now, instead of DC. I’m hoping he’s frolicking in city traffic, getting run over as he looks for me. Bucky snorted and tried not to laugh, which made you laugh.

“Sorry, it’s not funny.” He said, covering his mouth.

“Oh, it totally is.” You said, talking in a way where he could tell that you were smiling.

You both laughed as you grabbed a strainer out of the pantry. Draining the pasta, you both settled into a comfortable silence.

“Well, I’m glad you can joke about it.” Bucky said, watching as you poured pasta sauce into the pot to warm it up before chucking the rest of the pasta in.

“Some days are better than others. I’m just happy that I can stop running. Still, I do get a bit paranoid sometimes. I feel like I’m going to turn a corner and he’ll be right there.” You said, rubbing your arms as if you were comforting yourself. At that moment, Bucky looked at you and noticed for the first time how truly tired you looked. Dark circles underneath a sleep deprived gaze. Eyes clouded by worry and paranoia. Bucky’s seen that look on himself before. Before Steve found him in Bucharest, before he could trust his own mind. When he had to avoid being recognized, avoid being found, avoid falling back into Hydra’s grasp.

You exhaled as you uncrossed your arms, mixing the pot before sprinkling cheese on top. “Dinner’s all done.” Bucky sat peacefully, enjoying the aroma of the tomato and basil. Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled before speaking up again.

“Well. I’m here now.”

“Hmm?” You called back, not quite hearing him over the clanking of the bowls you took out.

“I’m here now,” he repeated, this time with more confidence. “So… you don’t have to worry about it. If you ever get worried about it, just call me. Or text me… Or knock on the door… and I’ll talk to you or I’ll check it out, keep an eye on the house from the apartment, or just be in the house with you. It’s not a bother, if it’ll give you peace of mind. I’ve been through something… similar. With, uh, the whole Hydra… thing…” Bucky trailed off as you stared at him with a neutral face. He was getting ready to backpedal, hand reaching for the back of his neck out of nervous habit, until you spoke.

“You’d do that?” You said, face unchanged, eyes searching his.

“Yeah… Yeah, I would.”

You blinked a few times before looking aside and trying to clear the frog from your throat.

“I don’t even know what to say but thank you. That is such a big relief.” You said, voice wavering slightly, one hand coming up to touch your forehead out of relief. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Nobody should have to go through that alone.” Bucky said softly.

You touched his hand softly, giving it a gentle squeeze before stealing your own back. You turned around to grab a drink when you paused, looking out the window.

“It stopped raining.” You stated, watching as the little bit of sunlight brightened the colors of the changing leaves. Bucky, on the other hand, was watching how the little bit of sunlight brightened you. He rubbed his thumb against where your hand had just been, trying to recreate the feeling of your hand on his.

[comfortbucky]

true north: sneak peek

hiiii !!!!!! ladies and gents i am attempting (for the first time) to write a story !!! here is a sneak peek !!!! pls feel free to leave replies and let me know how i'm doing and what u think :)

summary: the reader was a pararescue along with sam and riley and was engaged to riley. the series will follow the canon events of the captain america movies (ca:ws and ca:cw) as well as (hopefully if i make it this far) get to the events of tfatws! this one is going to be a slow burn...so buckle up....

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

warnings: none!

A/N: this is going to follow the canon tl super closely, and we are starting with (one of the best marvel movies there i said it) ca:ws! also this is just the beginning of chap 1 to begin to introduce the character of the reader...so not much new happens...... :D also bucky is not going to be in this for a hot minute so when i mean slow burn i mean SLOW BURN

also for the series, i'm probably going to skip over the non-cap parts of the captain america movies,,,, so....

again, pls feel free to lmk what u think and any suggestions or comments u have hehe :) and it can be about literally anything like even formatting!!!!!!! i am new to all of this but excited to learn hehe <3

“Look who it is, the running man.” Sam looked up at Steve as he made his way to a table to organize pamphlets. Steve was about to reply when a voice shouted down the hall.

“Hey, Sam! Great session today!”

Sam and Steve turned their heads towards the voice approaching them.

“My only complaint is the snacks, you need better ones.” Y/N flashed a grin to Sam as she took a bite of a stale cookie, only to have the rest of it crumble in her hands.

“See!” Y/N said, her voice muffled as she tried to prevent crumbs from falling out of her mouth. “What good is it for me to come here only to end up with this?” She stretched her hands out to show Sam the remaining crumbs before tossing them out in a nearby trash can.

“Oh, I don’t know. The therapy? Healing?” Sam crossed his arms as Y/N let out a laugh and turned to introduce herself to the blonde man standing next to her.

“Hey- oh my god! You’re Captain America!”

Steve chuckled and extended his hand out for her to shake.

“Please, call me Steve.”

“Y/N.” Y/N shook his hand, eyes wide, and slowly turned to Sam.

“Are you friends with Captain America? When- How did I not know this?”

Sam smirked.

“I thought I was your only friend Samuel, I’m proud of you.”

Sam’s face immediately fell as Y/N and Steve shared a laugh.

“Well, I have errands to run, but it was an absolute honor to meet you Cap- Steve.” Y/N turned to smile at Steve. He returned the smile and watched as she walked away.

Y/N turned around and continued to walk backward as she yelled out to Sam.

“I’ll see you later Sam! Remember The Bachelor starts at 8 and please bring anything but those stale cookies!”

Sam and Steve chuckled as Y/N disappeared through the doors of the VA, signing off with a wave before turning the corner.

"Speaking of your session, caught the last few minutes, it’s pretty intense.” Steve leaned against the wall, as Sam started to organize the messy stack of pamphlets.

“Yeah, brother. We all got the same problems.” Sam continued to keep his eyes on the task in front of him as Steve watched.

“Guilt, regret.” Sam continued and looked up at Steve with a look in his eyes that Steve was familiar with. Loss.

“You lose someone?”

“My wingman, Riley. Flying a night mission. Standard PJ rescue op. Nothing me, him, and Y/N hadn’t done 1,000 times before. ‘Til an RPG knocked Riley’s dumbass out of the sky. Nothing we could do. It’s like we were up there just to watch.” Steve raised his eyebrows upon hearing Y/N mentioned.

“I’m sorry.”

“After that, I had a really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know? Same thing for Y/N, maybe even worse. She was engaged to Riley, had the whole damn wedding planned out in a notebook. He was the last thing keeping her over there after everything she went through.”

Steve was shocked to learn a little about Y/N’s backstory. He never would have suspected that such a confident person like her to have gone through such a tragedy. He could tell by the look in Sam’s eyes that there was probably more to it, but couldn’t go further into it out of respect to her.

“But you’re happy now, back in the world? Both of you?”

Sam turned side to side to look at the empty hallway they stood in. “The number of people giving me orders is down to about zero.” He chuckled. “So, hell yeah. And I don't want to speak for Y/N, but I'm really proud of her recovery so far. She’s made a lot of progress.” He paused as he looked at Steve. “Are you thinking about getting out?”

Steve stared at the ground.

“No.” He paused. “I don’t know.” He returned his eye contact with Sam. “To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting?” Steve chuckled at Sam’s comment. “Just a great idea off the top of my head.” Sam smiled as he continued. “Seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve paused, hearing a question he hadn’t thought about in years.

“I don’t know.”

[jaehyunspeachparty]

daddy jaehyun

iv.vii. (m)

At the weekend you had agreed with Johanna that you would do some shopping. You wanted to have nice clothes again because you still have this little belly from the twin pregnancy for a while and you currently don't fit in your old clothes. "Are you looking for something specific or are you just looking like that?" You ask Johanna while looking through the clothes on the rail. "Well Hayoung is having a bridesmaid party and I'm invited." She sighed and looked carefully at you. Everything was still very tense and nobody wanted to address the situation with Doyoung. "Do you get along well?" You asked and wanted to take the tension off. Johanna was your friend, she could talk to you about anything. "I'd say. But we only went for a coffee every now and then." It was clearly uncomfortable for her to talk about it, so you just nod and keep looking. But somehow Johanna felt guilty. "Y/N, I can ask if you can come with me or to the bridesmaid's party." She turned to you and looked desperately. "Johanna, that's not a problem. I understand that Doyoung doesn't want to keep me too close. A lot has happened." Johanna doesn't know everything about the whole story with Doyoung, Johnny doesn't even know everything and you doubt that he told it all. "What really happened there? Johnny just says you were in a love triangle." She confirmed your suspicion that she hardly knows anything, but you didn't know if it was the right time to explain all of this. "Doyoung loved me, I loved Jaehyun and Jaehyun was overwhelmed with all the emotions. This story is too huge for one day and fit’s better with wine and sushi. It is too complex to summarize that." You put the dress you had back. Johanna nodded and continued to search. You were looking for a dress for yourself, but somehow you always slip into the children's clothing department. You will always find something for Miga, Sunoh or the twins. "Hey, didn't you want to buy clothes for yourself?" Johanna asked while you holding a romper with bunny ears. "But that's so cute. If I buy two, I can put Geon and Kiwoo in that. Jaehyun would be so confused." You look in love at the baby clothes and Johanna laughed. "Why? Can't he separate the twins?" "Yeah, but they look really identical. I only knew them because I breastfeed the two boys." You still had the romper in your hand and are already looking for an identical one in the same size. "How can you tell them apart? I think also that they really look the same and can’t tell you the difference." "Kiwoo is much more active. He is kicking wildly and he is much greedy when I breastfeed him. Geon smiles constantly, he is such a happy baby and he is so gentle, and breastfeeding with him takes longer. They look maybe the same but their characters are so different." You smile and somehow you missed your baby twins. It was the first time that you were without them for a few hours. "Johnny wants a baby too." Johanna suddenly became more serious and looked uncertain on the floor while you already found a new outfit for Sunoh. "You shouldn't get pregnant too fast. Your last birth was only 5 months ago." You put the outfit for Suoh over the romper and are now looking for something for Miga. "I don't want children anymore. Two are okay with me, but Johnny is already talking about number three." It really strains her. So you stop and turn to her. "Then talk to him and show him how you feel." "I know, only we have just reconciled and I don't want to bring the next argument into our relationship." Johanna grabbed her forehead and looked slightly panicked. "Are you still going to couples therapy? Maybe this is a good place to talk about it. A neutral person between you could sort things out and it won't escalate into emotions." "Hmmm yes maybe I should give it a try." She sighed and could see that it was bothering her. You stroke her back and smiled. "You two can do it." Then she nodded and you could understand that there was still a lot of work to do. Johanna then picked up a dress for Jaina and then turned to you. "How do you think our men are doing with the children at the moment?"

"AHHHHHHH!" "Sunoh, where's your clothes?" Jaehyun ran after his son, but the twins started to cry and Jasper followed. "Daddy, I think the babies are all hungry." Miga looked at the three children. Jaina meant that she had to climb on the table and was about to slip when Johnny quickly caught his daughter. "Jaehyun, we can't go on like this. This is like war!" Johnny held Jaina, who also started screaming. Miga covered her ears and ran to her father. "Daddy, it's so loud here." With her dark eyes, she looks up at Jaehyun desperately. But Jaehyun saw also that this day was catastrophic. "I think we have to call Mia." He had to admit that because the two Daddy’s were overwhelmed. "Why didn't you do it earlier?" Johnny was still struggling with Jaina, who wants to climb around everywhere. "Because she has her free day." At that moment the children were still screaming loudly and meanwhile, Sunoh was completely naked and crouched suspiciously in the garden. ”Daddy, I think Sunoh is pooping.” Miga pulled on her father's shirt and pointed to her brother. "No Sunoh, you're not shitting into the flowers now." Jaehyun ran out and grabbed his son. Now it was enough for him, Mia has to go back home as soon as possible. 

When you got home it was already dark. You open the door and it was completely quiet. Everything was tidy and when you looked into Miga and Sunoh's room they were sleeping. You could not believe that there was so much peace here. When you come into the bedroom, you hear the shower and in the addition on your bedside, the twins are cuddled together and also slept. You were really surprised how well everything worked. You really thought that chaos would break out. You sneak past your babies and go into the bathroom where Jaehyun just got out of the shower and the towel wrapped around her waist. He also seemed relaxed and maybe the fact that he had everything so well under control made him even more attractive. "Hey, you're here." He grinned and stood in front of you now. "Yes, we went also for dinner." You grin and put your hands on his wet chest. "Did you find something nice?", He asked further and you hesitated briefly. "Or did you just only buy things for the kids again?" He laughed, after all, he already knew you too well. "I've found one dress for me," you say proudly, looking into his dark eyes. And at the moment your knees got weak again and you have felt this lust that you never felt for a long time. Sex wasn't even in your mind for the past few weeks after the birth and it was still a while before you could sleep with him again, but something was stirring in you again. "Very good. You deserve something just for yourself." His face was suddenly closer to yours and he breathed these words so gently that you could almost read them on your face. "Apparently you also had a good day. Everything looks perfect. I'm impressed!" You grin and Jaehyun, who had his hands on your butt, hugged you tighter. "Yes?" He asked and grinned. If he was honest, Mia had helped and cleared up the mess. They had a deal that they didn't tell you or Johanna and Miga was bribed with lots of cookies. "Yes, you are such a good father." You run your fingers along his abs and moan in his direction. "Y/N, you're driving me crazy and we can't ..." Your foreheads lay on each other and your bodies were pressed together. "I know, but all the kids are asleep and you deserve a reward for today." You grin and kiss him just before you suddenly get on your knees. Jaehyun watched your actions closely and when you wiped the towel off his waist, his body twitched. He was right in front of your face, half-hard and you hadn't had him so close in a long time. You smile just before you take him in your hand and trigger a short moan from Jaehyun. The moment his length was in your hand, he was already growing and getting even more harder. You look up to him so far that your eyelashes reached your eyebrows and grinned because you knew exactly what you were going to do now. Jaehyun felt like he’s going crazy. You were on your knees, but now it was he who was weak in front of you. His eyes were pleading and begging. He wanted to scream 'put this fucking cock in your mouth'. You knew that exactly and that's why you take much more time. Your lips came very close to his tip, but you are not yet completely absorbing him. You see his length twitch with excitement and you had to giggle softly. You hear a soft moan without touching him and you were glad that you could still make him so hard with so little. But it was only a matter of time before the twins wake up and so you decide to act a little faster because you really wanted to give him that. So you open your mouth as far as you can and push your head so far forward that you have almost completely swallowed his cock. When your lips closed around his length, Jaehyun raised his hands and closed them behind his head to lie down easily. "Oh God!" As if he would find redemption, he groaned. You don't let that stop you and just keep going. You play alternately with your tongue on his glans and then start with another deepthroat. His hips gently pushed forward and backward, automatically. But whenever his lower abdomen pulled in, you knew he was close to his climax. You support yourself with your hands and really suck him out. And with another moan, you feel the familiar taste that ran down your throat bitterly and slightly salty. You suck his glans a little more so that he was clean of his own cum and when you were done he pulled you up. You look into each other's eyes and smile at each other, but then you hear a baby cry, followed by the second. It was time for the children agin

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[when-they-write-stuff]

Sheriff Stilinski’s Guide to Courting

pairing: sterek

word count: 3.3k

notes: written for an ao3 requested prompt of sheriff stilinski and his attempts at giving derek dating advice in regards to his son. i might’ve had too much fun with this.

John was pretty sure this shouldn’t be his problem.

He would rather not actively participate in his son’s love life, thank you very much. Especially when he was pretty sure his son’s ‘love life’ consisted of chaotic pining after the angry werewolf that the Sheriff had been working to put behind bars two years ago. 

See, John was pretty sure said angry werewolf might be pining after his son too. Just not as chaotically. In fact, there was no chaos. Just longing looks and angsty glares that made even John want to groan.

He was pretty sure this wasn’t his problem. His time should never be spent actively participating in his son’s love life.

But then the Sheriff realized the only way he was ever getting any mental peace again would be when his son and Derek Hale were no longer dancing around each other. And so, with a sinking heart, the Sheriff realized he was going to have to take part in making sure that happened.

First of all, he would like to say he did not ask for this. 

Second of all, it was hard.

It started when John walked past his son’s room one day, paused, and then quickly backtracked to see Derek sitting on his son’s bed.

Stiles was nowhere to be seen. The kid was still at lacrosse practice if John remembered right, and probably wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. But here Derek was, sitting. On Stiles’s bed. Alone in an empty room with his leather jacket sitting on his lap and his face always perpetually scowling. Until he saw the Sheriff staring, that was.

John blinked at him and Derek blinked back. The man had gone shock-still, looking like a deer caught in headlights, and his eyes were full-blown wide. Leaning against the bedroom door, John raised one eyebrow and sighed.

“Hello there, Derek.”

“Sir.”

“Do I want to ask what you’re doing here?”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “I’m waiting for Stiles.”

“He’s at the school.”

“I know.”

“And he won’t be back for a while still.”

“... I know.”

The Sheriff pressed his lips together and nodded. He really didn’t think he wanted to press, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t leave Derek sitting alone in his son’s bedroom either. Because that would be wrong, right? That would probably be wrong.

“Might I ask why you’re waiting for Stiles?”

For a long moment, he didn’t get an answer. Then Derek ducked his head and mumbled the word “Research” so quietly, John almost didn’t catch it. Because unlike Hale, he wasn’t a werewolf. He didn’t have super hearing, dammit. 

John made a mental note not to remind himself it was a werewolf— not just a man— sitting in his son’s bedroom. Because he was pretty sure that would create a whole new list of problems.

“So, research,” he said, almost enjoying the look on Derek’s face. “That’s all?”

“Yes sir.”

“There’s nothing else going on here?”

Derek’s face turned bright red and he quickly shook his head. The Sheriff pressed his lips together and nodded. There were a lot more things he could say; a lot more things he should probably say. But John decided that was enough interference for the day. He’d have a conversation with Stiles when he got back from practice. 

You know, about how werewolves probably shouldn’t be camping out in his room on a school day.

“Okay then,” John said, and Derek looked both shocked and relieved. “If you want a cup of coffee while you’re waiting, the kitchen’s wide open. And if you made Stiles a snack for when he gets home, I’m pretty sure he’ll be much more receptive to this… research.”

Derek stared at him with wide eyes before nodding. John chuckled and turned away, continuing back down the hall. He thought he’d handled that fairly well. Or… as well as possible, at least. How was he even supposed to address something like that?

John was pretty sure he didn’t want to get involved. He really didn’t want to get involved.

He just didn’t realize yet that he didn’t have a choice.

-

The next time John stumbled across things he didn’t mean to, he started to realize he either went along with it or moved to another town. Because Derek Hale was always there. And it seemed his son was too.

John liked when he got to do the grocery shopping because that meant he could buy the things he wanted to. Stiles never let him buy steak or frozen meals or anything actually edible when he tagged along, and when the boy went out by himself, he never came home with anything other than vegetables and whole wheat pasta. So John cherished the days when he could do the shopping himself.

The moment he entered the store, he made a beeline for the frozen meats section. But John didn’t expect to pass the ‘Personal Care Products’ aisle and see two figures standing there that he recognized very well. 

Moving slowly back, John peered at Derek and his son, and then glanced at the different packages of bandages that Stiles was holding.

“These might be cheaper, Derek,” the boy said, waving one through the air. “But they also sop up less blood. When one of us is bleeding out, Sourwolf, which would you prefer? The bandages that last five seconds and then let you bleed to death, or the ones that basically hold you together?”

“I would rather not have either of us bleeding out at all,” Derek said flatly, and the Sheriff decided truer words had never been spoken. He’d never thought he’d be listening to his son talk about his possible injury and death, but no father should have to hear something like that. Ever.

He stepped forward, clearing his throat, and both Stiles and Derek whirled around.

Derek’s eyes went as wide as saucers. But Stiles only went shock-still for a moment before putting a bright smile on his face and straightening up.

“Pops, dad, father-mine! What a coincidence to see you here!”

“Coincidence indeed,” the Sheriff said, looking at the bandages and then back at his son. “Can I assume someone is not currently dying?”

“Not yet!”

“Not… yet.”

“Stiles,” Derek hissed, elbowing the boy in the ribs. Stiles made a protesting noise of pain and elbowed the man back, and the Sheriff resisted the urge to facepalm.

This was his son, ladies and gentleman. And the Alpha werewolf he had somehow come to tame.

“So,” John said. “This is what you do in your free time?”

“Only when necessary.”

“Do I want to know what that means?”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, a sheepish look replacing the one of amusement on his face. “Only when we run out of bandages.”

The meaning behind that was obvious. John really questioned everything sometimes; like maybe his decision to not lock Stiles in his room and make him study online until graduation. Then he could let him back out into the world and make sure he went to college somewhere far, far away from Beacon Hills.

The Sheriff really lingered on that fantasy sometimes. Even though he knew he’d never be able to tear Stiles away from the supernatural. Not today, not tomorrow. He hoped maybe one day the boy would finally get some peace, but that didn’t seem to be in the near future.

Derek’s face was scarily pale beside the boy. John only sighed.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I will not,” Stiles said, dropping the more expensive bandages into the basket that Derek held and moving forward to snoop through the Sheriff’s cart. He wrinkled his nose and picked out a bag of chips, a container of cookies, and a loaf of white bread that the Sheriff had put in there earlier. “But these will. This is why you’re not allowed to go grocery shopping alone.”

“It warms my heart when my son tells me what to do.”

“Only because I care,” Stiles said with a grin, putting the items in Derek’s basket instead of back in the Sheriff’s cart. John was sad to see the cookies go. “Now you may go check out, pops. And don’t even think about making a pit stop in the frozen meats section.”

“I deserve steak,” the Sheriff mumbled. Stiles snorted.

“You deserve to live a nice long, full life without any heart problems.”

“You’re a heart problem.”

“See,” Stiles said, glancing toward Derek. “You think you have it rough dealing with me. When my dad gets hungry, he’s like a pouty teenager. Even though we all know he’s much too old to ever be considered a teenager again.”

“Okay,” the Sheriff said, grabbing his cart and starting past them. “And now I’ve had enough of my own son for the day.”

“I love you, pops!”

John only huffed. But before he moved fully by, he hesitated and grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, setting it in the basket next to the bandages. Derek’s face did fifty more things, finally resting on blank terror, and the Sheriff was quietly pleased that he could incur such fear in a man like Derek Hale.

Because Derek Hale was a werewolf. John was pretty sure that when he was shifted, even a bullet to the chest would take its time stopping him.

But clearly John’s mere presence made Derek tremble in his fancy leather jacket. 

“Quick tip,” John said quietly, leaning closer so Stiles couldn’t hear. “If you buy him a packet of Reeses at checkout, he’ll be well behaved for the rest of the day.”

Derek’s eyes snapped to the Sheriff’s face and he just stared for a moment. Then, still pale, Derek nodded. The Sheriff smiled and moved back away. He didn’t glance back, but he could feel Derek watching at him the entire time he moved down the aisle.

John didn’t buy himself any steak, mourning that loss. But he did pick up a packet of Reeses for his own self at checkout. Because he was a simple man and chocolate was therapy.

And John had no doubts he was going to need a lot of chocolate before this was all over.

-

See, the Sheriff didn’t know why he was going along with all of this. He was pretty sure it would make his life easier in the end but with a son like Stiles, he couldn’t know that for sure. 

It just seemed once the Sheriff started stumbling across things, apparently he couldn’t stop.

He tried to sneak into the diner and found Stiles laughing in a booth with Derek at his side. The man had looked like he was about to pass out when Stiles had gone to the bathroom and John had crossed over, offering a wide smile and pointing out that Stiles liked milkshakes, so Derek should attempt that.

Not a week later, Derek was arrested for standing outside the Stilinski house at night (not by John, of course. He’d gotten used to Hale and his strange habits by now) and the Sheriff had been the one to let him off, saying maybe he should consider talking to Stiles instead of silently lingering in the shadows.

One month passed and the Sheriff realized he was criss crossing paths with Derek and his son everywhere. At the movies (‘pack night’ without the pack), out in the preserve (‘stakeout’), and back in Stiles’s bedroom for a second time (except it was 2 am and Stiles was there too. John would believe ‘research’ when pigs started to fly). 

And the thing was John was pretty sure this shouldn’t be his problem.

He hadn’t asked to be caught in the middle of his son chaotically pining after Derek Hale and Derek Hale aggressively but silently pining back. Nothing John had ever experienced had prepared him for this.

And in the end, he realized it came down to him. John didn’t think that was fair at all.

To his surprise though, he didn’t have to make the first move. John didn’t expect to hear his doorbell go off that day and he really didn’t expect to see Derek Hale on the other side when he opened the door. Because Hale never rang the doorbell. In fact, John had always thought he didn’t even know that was a thing.

Derek shifted from foot to foot with his hands stuffed in his pockets. John raised a brow.

“Good afternoon, Derek.”

“Sir.”

“Stiles isn’t here.”

It was so similar to their first conversation, the Sheriff didn’t know why they hadn’t just had it months ago. Derek’s face turned bright red and he ducked his head, nodding. “I know.”

“So is there anything I can help you with?”

If possible, Derek’s face turned even brighter red. He looked at the ground for a moment before raising his eyes. “I came here to talk to you, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir, Derek.”

“... Sheriff?”

“John is fine, son.”

John didn’t know what he was expecting, but for Derek to look shocked and then terrified wasn’t it. For a moment, he truly thought the man would make a run for it. But then Derek cleared his throat and nodded, and John stepped aside, opening the door wider.

Derek stepped inside, glancing around. He shuffled his feet and John was pretty sure he had never seen the man look so nervous.

“So, Derek. You came to speak to me?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, sir.”

The Sheriff blinked at him. That also wasn’t what he was expecting. “Sorry?”

“Stiles is… always around lately, sir,” Derek said quietly. “And I like him being around. But I’m… not good with that. Until you’ve helped me be good with that. But I don’t know why you’re helping me be good with that.”

Oh. Oh.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said quietly. “I can go and make sure he doesn’t come back to the loft again. I didn’t mean to—”

“Derek, what the hell are you talking about?”

Derek looked up and his expression could only be described as shocked confusion. The man glanced around the room, toward the door, and then back at John. “If you don’t want me around him. If that’s not what you meant to do. I can make sure it doesn’t happen again—”

“You will do no such thing.”

Derek’s mouth snapped closed and he just looked surprised. The Sheriff rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “Derek, you like my son, don’t you?”

“... Sir.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Sheriff.”

“Derek.”

“John,” the man said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Derek looked like that’s the last thing he had been expecting. John resisted the urge to go to the kitchen and grab a beer. He thought he deserved one, but he didn’t think Derek deserved the terror that would probably follow such actions. So instead, he gestured to the couch and, as Derek slowly moved over and sat down, sank into the armchair opposite of him.

“The last thing I want for you to do is push Stiles away,” John said. Derek’s eyebrows shot up and John waved a hand through the air. “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t excited about it at first. But he’s… happy. More than he has been in a while.”

Derek didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. John studied his face.

“Will you ever hurt my son, Derek?”

“Of course not.”

“Will you ever put him in danger or put yourself before him?”

“Never.”

“Then I don’t know what you want me to say, son,” the Sheriff said, tilting his head. “Do you want me to tell you not to see my son anymore?”

Derek actually looked like he was considering that for a moment. And suddenly, all John could see was the fifteen-year-old kid sitting in the Sheriff’s station, wrapped in a blanket, covered in ash, and staring blankly at the floor. The very image hurt him.

Finally, Derek shook his head. “No, sir.”

“John.”

“No… John.”

“Then let me get you a drink,” John said, pushing himself up and moving toward the kitchen. He stayed in there longer than was probably necessary, but he was still trying to figure out the man currently sitting on his couch. Derek Hale was… well, he was something.

When the Sheriff came back out, Derek looked like he’d been sitting stock-still the entire time. John passed him a beer and sighed.

“So what do you need?”

“Si— John?”

“What is it called when a werewolf courts a human, Derek? Do I even want to know?”

Derek’s face turned bright red. “It’s just dating, sir.”

“And are you planning on doing that?”

Derek stared at him; silent and blank faced. John sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Are you planning on dating my son, Derek?”

He might as well have threatened to shoot the man. Derek tensed up and glanced toward the door and once more, the Sheriff wondered if he’d genuinely make a run for it. He quickly raised his hands like he was trying to calm a startled animal.

“I asked the question, Derek, I’m not going to shoot you for answering.”

“I… I don’t know, sir. Sheriff. John.”

“Are you wanting to?”

Derek glared at his beer as if it had personally offended him. But he still nodded. The Sheriff wondered for a moment how he’d gotten into this position before remembering he’d basically let Hale into his house in the first place. Technically, this was his fault.

“Just get him curly fries before you ask, Derek. Curly fries put Stiles in a state of euphoria.”

Derek’s eyes snapped up. “What?”

“Curly fries, Derek.”

“You’re giving me permission to date your son?”

“If you hurt him in any way,” the Sheriff said, pointing a finger at the man. “I will personally stock up on wolfsbane bullets and make good use of them.”

Derek’s face whitened. He nodded silently.

“You’re a good kid, Derek,” John said, dropping his hand. “I don’t expect that’ll ever be necessary.”

“No, sir.”

“Though it might be if you continue calling me sir.”

“No, John.”

The Sheriff smiled at that. This was progress, he thought. Not that he’d ever seen himself giving ex fugitive and literal werewolf Derek Hale advice on how to court his son. He wondered if Claudia would be exasperated or proud of him.

Probably both.

“So,” the Sheriff said. “Anything else?”

Derek glanced from his bottle, to the Sheriff, and then toward the door. Shaking his head, he pushed himself up and set the bottle on the coffee table. He hadn’t even touched it. “No, John. Uh… thank you.”

“Please never mention this to Stiles.”

John could’ve sworn Derek nearly smiled. He hadn’t thought that was possible (did it come with being a werewolf or was that an eyebrow thing?) but John was pretty sure he knew what he saw. Derek Hale smiling. In his house. What a trip.

This entire visit was unexpected from one point to the next. 

The Sheriff followed him to the door and Derek looked like he was going to say something else, but then he turned and quickly exited the house. John watched him all the way to his Camaro before shutting the door with a long, heavy sigh.

He would like to say first of all, he did not ask for this. 

Second of all, it was hard.

And third of all? Well, the Sheriff needed some chocolate. Maybe a few steaks. But he also thought that could have been worse; and he was never doing it again.

His time should never be spent actively participating in his son’s love life.

Never again. 

- -

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[margomoment]

Some things I do to distract myself from obsessions

I noticed I get stuck in my head if I'm not doing anything, so I compiled a list of things I do to give my brain something else to focus on. I drew from multiple areas of things because some of these things might relate to your obsessions. In that case, don't do them. Do something else. There are a lot of options here.

Listen to music-- I recommend a coming of age movie soundtrack to feel simultaneously like you are infinitely small and part of something bigger

Bake chocolate chip cookies (put music or a podcast on in the background, sing along to Disney music! Occupy your thoughts with lyrics instead)

Look into how to make your own indoor garden!

Make a terrarium

Play a video game -- Minecraft is good and the music is soothing. Play a podcast in the background. I recommend Dear Hank And John because I am vlogbrothers Trash

Read a book

Write a book

Moisturize your body

Paint a sheet of paper with watercolor, let dry, then write on it.

Start a bullet journal

Go on a run. I hate running but I can’t think when I run.

Learn Sign Language. If you have BFRBs, this helps so much to distract yourself. Learning just the alphabet is really easy and insanely helpful

Try to dance, even if you suck at it. Turn off the lights in your room, close your eyes, just dance.

Play Just Dance(TM). It’s a great game! Get ya exercise on!

Go to an animal shelter, look at cute animals. Local ones sometimes have meet-and-greet days, so I always go when they have a bunny run and I’ll just sit with rabbits. Very cute, bring a friend.

Text someone to tell them that you need a distraction. You don’t have to tell them what.

Poptropica

Make a blog and write a post about what you do to get your mind off things (haha... this is meta)

Watch old Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes and try to solve them.

Do a face mask. I use this when I need to not pick at my skin. Get free samples at Lush! Get a free sample of Cosmetic Warrior you won’t regret it.

Go Thrifting and listen to music/podcasts while you do

Bring a friend over to do ANY of these things with you. Especially if you have a talkative one. Maybe you can’t speak much because you’re in your head, but they usually can.

Try (and fail, probably) to make bath bombs. Idk why but they’re hard! maybe only for me bc I never have any of the ingredients so i just wing it

Go to the Dollar Store, try to find the weirdest product

Play the Sims, make at least one person in the family complete their ambition without cheats

Learn how to sew

Make your bed and clean your room while listening to the Tangled soundtrack

Try online therapy. This isn’t “get your mind off of it” as much as work through it, but it’s important. If you can’t see a therapist in your area, online therapy is great too. Therapy is important to help you be able to do these other distractions.

These aren’t gonna work for everyone all the time. I know it’s hard to get out of your head in a spiral. Sometimes it’s just not gonna happen. But if you can feel yourself starting to get stuck and you can put your brain power to something else, do. It will save you, at minimum, an hour or so of obsessing. And, at maximum, it will get you over the hump and you’ll be able to pull yourself out of the spiral. Good luck. It’s better on the other side of this.

[halorocks1214]

ბარტერი (a Thunderbirds fic)

Chapter 2:  უბედურება

AO3 Link

Word Count: 2368

Summary: And here they thought getting their father back was the least of their worries.

Chapter 1 | [YOU ARE HERE]

I BE ALIVE. BARELY. BUT I AM ALIVE. my motivation levels are still dead to hell and back, especially for my other Big Fics atm, but my brain decided to hardwire itself all of a sudden for this one and i was able to squirm something out. no promises for consistent uploads just yet because A.) aforementioned “dead inside” ness and B.) college is starting in two weeks and im Very Excite!!!! hope you enjoy this update regardless!

warnings for VERY UNCOMFORTABLENESS. unconsensual/creepy sexual comments and actions are made and boy were they hard to write (sorry Al). also violence violence violence, but hopefully angery older brother makes up for it

He hated it he hated it he hated it hated it he hated it--

Okay, Alan hated a lot of things about this moment right now, so he should probably be more specific. He hated those men, he hated leaving Gordon, he hated how his lungs were trying to heave themselves out of his chest with the way he was running, he hated how there were so many obstacles in his path that it was slowing him down, he hated how he was effectively alone--

Wait, no he wasn’t, the comms! He never turned them back on! No wonder John always told him not to panic, it made him do stupid stuff like that! Not breaking his stride, Alan pulled up his wrist and tried doing just that, but before he could even squeak, a hand came around to the front of his face, essentially muffling him and holding him in one spot.

Okay now this was just straight awful. Bringing his hands up to try and get the stranger’s singular one off his face, Alan bucked and kicked his legs around like a cornered horse, anything to break free from this terrible grip. Jesus, wasn’t this man the smaller one? And he was still able to pick Alan straight up off the ground?! Just what do these guys eat?

Gross and creepy chuckling filled Alan’s ear, somewhat freezing his attempts at escaping. He was still struggling and twitching, but for some reason, his dumb brain was trying to get him to hear whatever this man was going to say, “Ooh, you’re quite the squirmer, aren’t ya? I suppose that’s not a bad thing with those freckles and all. Quite a few clients dig the young thing. The baby fat’s a nice touch, too.” As if those words could be any worse, the man used his free hand to pinch Alan’s cheek right after he finished talking.

Alan keened. He knew his whining was high pitched to begin with, but the noises that came from his mouth were on some kind of level only dogs could hear. Tears started pouring out of his eyes like molten lava, meanwhile, his incessant kicking started up again. This time, it got somewhat literal and kicked up a few notches. Swivels started being involved, and amidst his panic, Alan found it in his brain to try and aim his feet. Any hit landing would be stellar.

But as the Tracy Family Luck would have it, nothing seemed to be working. It didn’t help that the man’s creepy chuckles just seemed to get louder as more time went on. For a split second, Alan felt the man move about an inch as if he were about to drag Alan away to whatever torturous situation he had dreamed up for the blonde. Alan wasn’t aware hope could die in the blink of an eye like that.

But then they both stopped simultaneously.

The rather loud snapping of a tree branch from a few feet away made both men swivel their heads in the direction of the noise. Alan was shocked by how much he could turn with how his neck was essentially trapped.

Alan felt both relief and anxiety wash over him because that was Virgil coming through the bushes to see what exactly his youngest brother had been getting up to. But that’s also where the anxiety was coming from as well. There were very few ways this was ending, and even less of those endings didn’t involve blood.

“Alright, the two of you have been completely dead on the comms for the past 10 minutes and I don’t know which older person in our family I want to deal with less at the moment. You better have a good expla--”

Virgil looked up from watching his steps to see that it very much wasn’t Gordon with their baby brother. It was a random man, which his in-the-middle-of-a-job brain was going to write off as a person Alan saved while Gordon went off to save others, but then he blinked once. Then twice. Then he had to fight the urge to rub his eyes with fists like a scene from a cartoon because he had to let go and realize that yup, what he was seeing was real.

And he fucking despised it.

Because this random, strange man was holding Alan as if his kid bro were random cargo and not a person. His big, sweaty hand wrapped around Alan’s mouth wouldn’t be as incriminating (and it already was a thousand times) if Alan didn’t have giant, blatant tear tracks running down over them. Meaning the hand was there before Alan started crying. Meaning this man was the cause of his brother’s distress.

Virgil’s pupils shrunk (man, that’s a reoccurring theme tonight), and while Alan was scared before, right now, he was terrified.

The floodgates were opened, and Alan was hoping that the damage the metaphorical water created wouldn’t be anything close to the mess the literal tsunami they were cleaning up caused.

---

Virgil was the least violent person in their family.

That’s not to say his thoughts weren’t. Believe him, if you pissed him off the right way he could come up with some pretty beautiful imagery as a form of therapy, but what made him different is that he channeled that anger into something productive and helpful. He didn’t quietly carry out revenge plots like John or threw punches like Scott.

But right now, any kind of breathing exercise was out the door the minute his brain registered the scene. The way the man was gleaming at his brother like he was freshly cut meat was sickening and Virgil was literally willing to resort to a bloody killing to make it stop. What filled him wasn’t anger, nor was it fiery rage.

No, it was red hot, animalistic fury and God help the person who was able to make Virgil come even close to that.

It must have somehow displayed itself. Maybe it was the way Virgil’s eyes zoned in on the man, maybe it was his fists clenching so hard his fingers might break, maybe it was the way his breathing became ragged and dangerous, maybe it was Virgil’s sheer size alone; whatever it was, it made the man’s giddy look drop off his face at the speed of light into pure, unbridled terror.

Good, now he saw how Alan was feeling.

As soon as Virgil saw the man release his hold on Alan to try and run, the middle Tracy moved.

The man wanted to leave very suddenly, huge money-load or not. Sure, it would be a big loss to let go of such a highly well-known person (one that was so young too), but if it meant he wouldn’t be folded in a way that was akin to an origami project, then the man was willing to drop everything and run. He let go of the target, turned around and took about 2 and a half steps before--

The man yelped as he felt himself be grabbed and aggressively shoved into a tree, head bouncing off of it because of momentum. With a groan, he opened his eyes and cried out in fear. Right in front of him was that other IR member. The giant one with muscles as big as steel and probably has the ability to bench press a small herd of bison. He couldn’t help the trembles that were overtaking him, and he was hoping he would at least be alive long enough to go change into a new pair of pants.

“What,” the IR member growled out, “the hell, do you think you’re doing?”

His sputters were weak and laughable, but maybe they would convince the IR member to take pity, “W-W-What? C’ mon, man, I know it looks bad, and yeah, m-maybe you’re coworkers, but, like, als-so relent a little b-bit. He’s cute, n-no?”

A millisecond of silence. Suddenly, Virgil pushed his arms into the man even more, dangerously close to ‘be careful, he might not be able to breathe’ territory, “You’re sick.”

The man, in all of his panicked glory, felt the blood rush to his head and greatly affect his mouth. He was never good at tact, “H-Hey! Don’t kn-knock it till you t-try it.”

Before Virgil could even start to think, his fist moved and collided directly in the man’s face and nose. He's sparred with Kayo. He knew how to hurt. With a step backward, he watched with satisfaction as the man, who was now out cold, slid uncomfortably down the tree. The sight put a grin on Virgil’s face. It was the least he deserved: a crick in his neck.

Now then, this man clearly couldn’t be left to just wake up and go home. He was a menace, and Virgil would hate himself for leaving such a dangerous thing on the streets. The only problem the Tracy couldn’t figure out was that he wasn’t sure where he would put him on ‘Two. It wasn’t anywhere near his brothers, that’s for sure. As Virgil pulled out some spare rope he managed to just have on him (thank God for small coincidences), his mind gleefully became playful. Yes, the roof of his girl would be a fitting seat for his kind. Right as he finished tying one of the strongest knots he knew, he heard a small, quiet, and scared voice speak up from a few feet away.

“Is he, uh, going to wake up soon?”

Oh fuck. Well, any anger or rage left his body like a gust of wind.

Letting the man’s tied up hands fall from his grasp, Virgil snapped his head up to look directly at Alan as if his younger brother caught Virgil with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘Deer in the headlights’ was a good way of describing Virgil, actually. His eyes were wide and his pupils were small once more, but that was because he was suddenly panicking over what exactly all of this entailed.

Because Alan was as far away as he could be from the man but close enough to be able to see Virgil and what the brother was doing to said stranger. Alan was desperately trying to seem like he was holding it together, but the way he held his arms around himself, and the thin sheen of sweat covering his face, Virgil thought he wasn’t succeeding as much as he wanted. A little bit of color had returned, at least, it looked like that, compared to how Alan was when he was being held by his captor. Not to mention the now-drying tear tracks...

Was that Virgil’s breath that was extremely heavy and labored? You know, maybe he should stop doing that. Taking a deep breath, Virgil stood up one knee at a time and carefully walked over to his younger brother. It broke his heart to see how Alan tensed up, so Virgil slowed his strides and re-thought out his plan for when he got close enough to touch his younger brother.

About a foot away from Alan, Virgil held his hands up like he was coaching a frightened animal, staring into those gigantic baby blue eyes as if this were ten years ago and Virgil was comforting a brother that just had a nightmare, not a brother that was nearly… God, he doesn’t even want to think that thought to himself, “Hey. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Keep it specific, give the shock victim something to focus on. Alan took a moment to register Virgil’s words before taking a deep breath and relaxing ever so slightly, “N-No, he just… startled me. I’ve never…” Alan closed his eyes and shuddered, the awful memory from just minutes ago washing over him like toxic waste.

Virgil’s hesitation was next to none as he stepped forward and practically engulfed his brother in his large frame. If not for Alan, at least for himself, because his own shock was just about kicking in, adrenaline wearing off at the speed of ‘One. Jesus, that was close. Jesus, that was close. If Virgil hadn’t shown up at that moment, just a few seconds later…

After a moment of flinching (that Virgil didn’t notice, thank God), Alan eventually melted into his Virgil’s embrace wholeheartedly. Part of him was still tense, his body still not completely sure that the danger was gone, but boy did that not matter while his older brother was here. Heh, older brothers, Scott was going to freak about this, John probably wouldn’t be much better…

Oh, oh shit-

Virgil couldn’t stop the eyebrow raise, followed by his utter surprise when Alan suddenly shot out of his arms and started waving his own almost like a drowning man would. Virgil was very concerned over why Alan was getting worked up again, but before he could even say ‘what’ in ‘what’s wrong’, Alan practically read his mind.

“Gordon! Virge, oh my God, they have Gor-”

There wasn’t much explanation needed after that.

Except there was a little bit, mainly for Virgil’s sake. Alan’s panic was overtaking a lot of his common sense, and the last thing Virgil was going to let happen was Alan getting near any of these people, not even with 10 feet between them. So with Alan’s promise that he won’t leave Virgil’s side at all, no more than a foot at most, they both hoofed it back to where Alan last saw Gordon.

Virgil was about to put a leash on the kid with how much he was jumping out of his skin, but eventually, they were there, and Virgil regrets his whole just because you left Gordon doesn’t mean he was taken speech he gave to consol Alan, because the spot he led them to had nothing but a semi-ripped up, familiar yellow sash on the ground.

Alan’s grip on Virgil’s arm was better than a tourniquet they’ve ever used. At least Virgil won’t have to worry about him running off anymore.

Lifting his wrist so he could contact everyone else, Virgil could feel the blood drain from his face just like Alan’s.

“International Rescue, we… shit, John, we’ve gotta big problem.”

[wesawbears]

For @nakasomethingkun for @aftgexchange. This was fun to write, so I hope you enjoy! I never would have thought of Andrew and Neil as farmer’s market stall owners on my own, but now I’m weirdly invested in this little universe. Happy holidays, and follow the read more!

--

Andrew wasn’t your typical farmer’s market stall owner, to say the least. While most of the carts were run by smiling farmers or thirty-something women trying to convince grad students that kale smoothies would solve their anxiety, Andrew was just there to get rid of the superfluous amount of sweets that were overtaking his apartment.

The baking had started when his therapist had suggested finding a creative outlet. The idea of art therapy and sitting in a room painting with other depressed people was less than appealing, but after hearing a passing comment about his sweet tooth, she had recommended that he try baking.

It hadn't taken him long to memorize the basics of different recipes, so he spent his free time adding new variations and ingredients to his creations. The problem was that he was still one person, who no matter how valiantly he tried, could only eat so many sweets. Eventually, his one-bedroom had become overrun with baked goods, and frankly, he needed a way to get them out of his house.

He found the farmer's market through his therapist, who went there on the weekends to do her produce shopping. As it turned out, other people were happy to hand off ingredients for him to sneak into his desserts, so he fit in pretty well with the rest of the ecosystem. His stand had become pretty popular, partly stemming from his promotion where customers got 50 cents off if they completed their transaction without attempting to engage Andrew in small talk. So, overall, things had been going pretty well.

Blissfully, for his first three months at the market, no stands had been put up next to him. One Saturday, though, he showed up and the adjacent stand was being set up. It looked to be run by a redhead who, unfortunately, Andrew had to report was hot. What was less hot was the fact that he was essentially running a lemonade stand.

For the most part, he tried to ignore the mysterious and irritatingly hot lemonade man, until he came face to face with him.

"Lemonade?"

Andrew looked up and saw Lemonade Man's smirking face in front of him. Resisting the urge to either punch or kiss him, he just said, "What's your sales pitch?"

Annoyingly, he only shrugged. "It's hot out. Lemonade is good."

"Most people would have said something about their lemonade being organic or GMO-free or some shit."

The guy just smirked and leaned in. "Want to know a secret?"

Andrew didn't give away whether or not he wanted to know. He was more curious than actually interested.

At his silence, the man continued, "It's just Country Time."

At that, Andrew raised an eyebrow. "False advertising."

He shrugged again. "Not like anyone knows the difference." 

Andrew leaned back in his chair. "Interesting."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Go away, lemonade boy. Before I get bored."

A small smile started to spread across the other man's face before he seemed to stem it at the source. "I'm Neil, by the way."

"Good to know."

He was met with an eyebrow raise. "Aren't you going to tell me yours? I thought that was how conversations worked."

Andrew crossed his arms. "Another day."

Seemingly sensing that he wasn't going to get anything else, he went back to his stall, smirk unable to be pressed down.

Curious, Andrew thought to himself.

--

An entire month had passed, and Neil still hadn't been able to get a name out of the baker with the stand next to him. He wasn't the typical farmer's market seller, but neither was Neil, with his vaguely counterfeit lemonade stand. He justified it by saying that he didn't charge much for it, or outright lie. He said it was lemonade, and if people were dumb enough to assume it was fresh, they were the ones deluding themselves, not Neil. 

He doesn't know what came over him that caused him to be honest to this stranger. He supposed it was the way he seemed to see through the bullshit of the place in the same way Neil did. Every Saturday for the past month, then, he'd sit at his stand for about two hours before getting bored and spending the next two talking to the baker and trying to get his name.

People seemed surprised that he talked to Neil, but the baker seemed chatty enough when he wanted to be. He knew all about the stand promotion and rolled his eyes at the dramatics. But Neil could respect not wanting to deal with small talk.

Baker man had said that he would tell Neil his name once he was able to guess Neil's favorite dessert. He had tried everything: chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, cakes, cookies, all kinds, but nothing had seemed to stick. Neil sort of wanted to just tell him because his curiosity was killing him, but the desire to be a little shit was too compelling to pass up.

On this particular Saturday, he returned as always to a sweet sitting in the middle of his table. "What's your guess today?"

The baker gestured vaguely. "Just try it."

Neil took a bite and was immediately surprised and pleased. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth, but this seemed balanced and earthy. "Mmm."

"No," the baker said simply.

"What? Am I not supposed to like it?"

"Your favorite is not fucking carrot cake."

"Is that what this is?"

The baker's face remained impassive, but barely. "I can't believe you like carrot cake."

"You know what that means."

"My name?"

Neil nodded eagerly.

"Andrew."

"Hmm."

"I didn't ask your opinion."

"Did I give it?"

The corners of Andrew's mouth twitched slightly. "You are impossible."

Neil just laughed. "You like it."

"Maybe I do."

At that, Neil was taken aback. He didn't...do this. He had never really looked at anyone and wanted more. But he kept coming back to Andrew.

"I could use a ride home," he said, not really knowing what possessed him to do so.

Andrew looked at him, hard, before apparently settling on an answer. "I can do that."

[promisenolies]

A Writer Fed Up

I feel like this post/rant has been coming for a while. I realize that this might not be received well, but I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take.  

I’ve been encountering some interesting takes and comments around my work as of late. And I feel like it needs to be addressed on a few different fronts. And yes, I could have continued with my life ignoring all these issues, as most people who do these behaviors are likely just doing it for attention. But...I feel that these things need to be said, if not only to give voice to many other writers/content creators who feel similarly.  

General points are as follows:  

The first and simplest point to make is this: the fanfiction writers in your fandom write these pieces – 1. for FREE  2. for THEMSELVES because they feel a call to create something. They/We do not do this for YOU. The sense of entitlement some readers have is uncalled for. Unless you’re paying us for our work, your opinion is not needed. At all.  

Comments and Kudos are the air we breathe as writers. We love when people appreciate our work, enjoy our work, and feel the need to let us know. HOWEVER, the comment section is not there for you to tell us how much you didn’t enjoy the piece. (see point 1)  

Everyone has personal tastes, yes? I have particular things I won’t read/write and I take no offense to others who feel differently. Again though, if you come across work that does not sit well with you or that you don’t enjoy – stop reading. That’s it. Don’t leave a comment, don’t bitch on timelines, don’t send passive aggressive curious cat messages. Just leave it alone. It’s that simple. I have particular tastes, I know that. But I don’t shit on writers who fall outside of what I enjoy. Because WHY!? They—again—are creating content for themselves and those who want to read it. And they’re doing so for free under no obligation to make anyone happy. Including—surprise—you and me! So again – if you don’t like ABO, don’t read it. If you don’t like MCD, don’t read it. If you don’t like BDSM, don’t read it. If you don’t like something specifically don’t. read. it.  I don’t know why this is so hard for readers to grasp.  

Specific points are as follows:  

I write vers/switch Jikook. That’s all I write. Yes, one-shots typically have only one role, but you’ll find a variety of who bottoms/tops in each of them. Claiming that I only wrote bottom Jimin fics after I was “called out” by some entitled person who didn’t care for my content is ridiculous. Especially considering the very first BTS piece I posted was Dressing Room Deviance which not only featured bottom Jimin – but it was also a VMinKook fic!  

On that note. I can’t believe I even have to say this, but what I write is FICTION. As in, despite them taking after the likeness of real Jimin and real Jungkook at the end of the day they are characters or interpretations of them (in my canon fics). And as characters, I write their sexual roles as I see fit. Sometimes I feel like they’d enjoy bottoming, sometimes I feel like they’d like to top. (See general points 1 and 3)  

But what really irritates me with this concerning fascination with sexual roles is that PEOPLE ARE MORE THAN SEX. Are you that incapable of understanding the complexities in human nature? Is it impossible for you to see them as multi-faceted and capable of multiple roles? Relationships are built on more than sex. I promise. And if you’re stuck in thinking otherwise, I greatly encourage you to speak with a professional about what healthy relationships are and what they look like. The sex is my work is ONE part of their relationship. There’s so much more going on behind it. Trust, humor, equality, love... If all you see in my work is the sex or if that’s all you can seem to bring yourself to comment on – quite honestly I don’t want you to read my stuff then. Because it’s CLEARLY over your head.  

Implying that I have no experience in sexual relationships is honestly the most ludacris and laughable thing I’ve encountered to date. One can only DREAM of the level of satisfaction I have in my sex like with my spouse. (Sorry to my little if they end up seeing this LOL) And that satisfaction and experience is in the very thing you seem to think I don’t understand the mechanics of.  

People’s inability to separate physical appearance, size, presentation, etc from their preconceived, heteronormative scripts/ideas is frustrating and sad. Again, people are complex and much more than their sexual roles. There is absolutely NO reason that the smaller partner can’t top. There’s absolutely NO reason that Jimin (let’s be specific here since these are my specific points) can’t be a top, can’t be assertive, can’t be portrayed outside your limited view of “babie Jimi”  Even in real life, yes he’s adorable – but he’s also legitimately scary as fuck and he could kick all our asses. And he’s not TINY. Let's be real. He’s 5’9”  - I can’t understand why so many people depict him as being like 5’3” or some shit. Trust me, that man can reach that top shelf to grab a bowl and doesn’t need Kook to do it for him. Stop making him a feminized, weak, damsel in distress. He’s a MAN and you’d do well to fucking realize that. Jungkook also deserves more than this general script of only topping, being stupid or aggressive, being incapable of feelings and intimacy, and always being some sort of protector. AKA – Jimin is not “the woman” and Jungkook is not “the man.” THEY ARE MEN. Your homophobic heteronormativity is showing and it’s disgusting.  

I do honestly enjoy writing bottom JK, mostly because it’s unconventional (for some gross heteronormative reason). So yeah, you might see a bit more of that in my one-shots. But honestly, maybe y’all need to expand your horizons. I enjoy breaking him out of the confining box so many of you put him in. Same with Jimin. Both he and Jimin deserve great sex, whatever form that happens to take in my work.  

Also, the fandom’s inability to separate sub/dom from bottom/top is also GREATLY CONCERNING. I have a lot of thoughts on this issue. Like A LOT. Mostly focused around the disgusting pornification of our youth and the sexualizing of violence. But at the end of the day my point will be short on this. (And keep in mind I will not debate this issue. This is one of my boundaries alright? - it’s HEALTHY to have boundaries) The main point of this is that sex doesn’t need to have power dynamics. It doesn’t. And I’ll concede on the point that some people specifically write BDSM and sub/dom work and that’s fine because again – points 1 and 3 in general points above. But what frustrates me is that even if there isn’t ANY power dynamics people will tag it that way. Why? Is it to get hits because people have been so culturally groomed to be aroused by that? It makes me sad that I miss out on likely some great pieces because it’s tagged wrong. Just because someone is assertive doesn’t mean they’re being a dom and just because someone let’s go and surrender’s to pleasure doesn’t mean they’re being a sub. Assertiveness is so important to have in sexual experiences because one needs to be able to voice what they like and what they don’t like. Assertiveness is not domming.  

Some people’s simple lack of understanding of intimacy truly saddens me. And I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about INTIMACY. About knowing your partner, being there for your partner, talking through things and managing conflict as a team.  

This next one is a very specific rant point. If you haven’t read the “There And Back Again” series this might give spoilers and/or you might be lost. As a counselor, I can ASSURE you that the dynamics with Jungkook and Jimin include CARE and COMFORT on both sides. The way people seem to think that Jungkook wasn’t a caretaker for Jimin simply because he didn’t coddle him BLOWS MY MIND. Again, is it just because we have so FEW depictions of true intimacy and care for our partners? People process trauma in so many ways. Some people need the image that apparently so many of you draw up in your mind; the hugs, the soothing words, etc. Some people don’t. Jimin specifically in this piece didn’t need that kind of care. If you paid attention AT ALL to his character you would know that. This version of Jimin needed to feel like he was still capable, that he didn’t lose his strength and who he was, he needed to know that he still had PURPOSE. Jimin didn’t need to be coddled the way you seem to think he did. The way Jungkook didn’t make a big deal of Jimin going to therapy – that's the reaction Jimin NEEDED. If you can’t see Jungkook’s apologies for his focus on Jimin’s injuries and how he couldn’t do certain things as care, if you can’t see Jungkook’s desire to learn grounding techniques to help Jimin through flashbacks and panic attacks as care, if you can’t see Jungkook’s support of not just therapy but going to school as care...then I guess I don’t know what to tell you. But let it be known and clear that Jungkook took care of Jimin in all the ways he needed, and I’m not sorry if you can’t see it. Because THOSE depictions of care and intimacy are NEEDED (clearly) and I won’t write cookie-cutter bullshit just so people like it.  

On that note – people's weird dislike of Jimin bottoming at the end of that series is so strange to me. Like, why? Does it revert back to people’s massive inability to accept him as a potential bottom? Is it the inability to reconcile his incredibly masculine portrayal with their perceived feminine role? People say they don’t think he’d healed enough... literally the last chapter is THREE YEARS later. You think he didn’t put in some work in that time? Jesus. As for saying it didn’t seem natural? ...honestly that final scene with them is one of my absolute favorites...I know a few who would agree with me.  

I want to throw in one other comment/disclosure before y’all run in here and call me a hypocrite. I did recently call something out that honestly just needed to be, in my opinion. I’m sure much of that situation was due to me being a sexual assault advocate and recognizing the situation for what it was, and for recognizing the impact that the mislabeling could have on others. It was an intense moment, and I’m thankful that the creator was open to hearing me out in my escalated state. We talked through it, heard each other’s points and have moved on. And I still fully support them in their work as they are an incredible writer.  

I think that’s all I have. For now.  

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.  

[acefrogmonarch]

Headcanons pt.4

Middle school and early high school

I know American class but also Japanese class schedules. I don’t know if I want either or a hybrid.

Based off this post (If i can find it)

Naruto-band

Shikamaru has a knack for playing the drums, but he's never serious about it. He plays the drums because the systematic rhythm helps him think of strategies for shoji.

Has been asked multiple times to join the jazz band in Spring. He refuses everytime because it cuts his time in shoji, but once he gets his own cubie in the band hall he sets up his shoji board and plays it when he has free time.

Hinata has played the violin but hates the way her fingers hurt after being forced to play for long hours.

So she seeks asylum in the band hall, and has secretly taken lessons how to play the saxophone. It's her favorite of all the wind instruments.

She has been asked to join the spring jazz band, despite not being an actual member. She easily took the first chair when they were evaluating their skills.

Choji has been following a senior that's been teaching him the guitar, he's in the brass section playing the tuba. Has been asked to replace the senior when he gets older and wants to.

Naruto is in the brass section with Kiba but only Kiba is the trumpet player. Naruto is a trombone player and tells dad jokes. He didn’t fit the mold of a trumpet player but he still loves it regardless.

But his energy is definitely on par, if not greater than the rest. He will always cheer up everyone around him and is a part of the cheerleading squad.

Hates that there aren't anyone other guys. He just wants to flip off someone's shoulders. Damnit! 

He's flipped off Sasuke's and Shikamaru's shoulders before. In Sasuke's case, it was during elementary/primary. They were on the playground and this was Naruto’s second ever attempt to land a backflip. They couldn’t do it because the teacher caught them when a group started forming and they started betting their snacks from lunch to see if Naruto failed or not.

They continued their promise after school and Naruto broke his arm, but he did do it right after. He ate like a King the next day. It was great for him.

The first time Naruto did it was completely by accident and because he was so excited that he got a trampoline.

He’s never taken gymnasium classes before and has not seen a backflip before. But he somehow did it. It still shocks his parent’s to this day. Sasuke and him are neighbors and he came over to see what Naruto was so happy about.

Sasuke came just in time to see him do it. It was the greatest moment of his life because then Naruto tried to do it again and fell flat on his face. 

In shikamaru’s case it was during middle school and they were next to the pool. They were at Sasuke’s house for the day because he had a cool deck and pool.

Naruto wanted to jump off his shoulders into the pool. Shikamaru agreed because he didn’t think Naruto could actually do it. He realized his mistake when Naruto beamed in total confidence and Sasuke moved away from the pair.

Naruto didn’t do his back flip because Shikamaru moved the second Naruto decided to jump, without warning.

Needless to say, Shikamaru didn’t support his legs enough and Naruto accidently kicked him in the chin. Naruto ended up on the pool, back first, and Shikamaru fell on his ass.

Naruto swims up to the edge of the pool and looks at Sasuke, trying so hard not to laugh.

Naruto: Did I do it?!

Sasuke, trying to reclaim his composer: No, not at all.

Shikamaru, on the ground rubbing his chin: How did you even hit me!?

Naruto: Again!

Shikamaru: No!

Sasuke, running inside to get a camera or phone to record it: Yes!

Naruto is sometimes very confused as to why he is going to a house, when he has an apartment and his milk is about to expire! Also, his stash of untouched ramen!

Kushina: Naruto, sweetie. Where are you going?

Naruto: My apartment!

Minato: Naruto, we have a house.

Naruto: What’s that? Is it edible?

Kushina: Sometimes. During winter.

Naruto: Why winter?

Kushina: There are houses made of cookies.

Naruto: Really?!

Kushina, nodding along: Yup!

Anyway after High school they sometimes played together. Naruto had to buy a new entire trumpet because he rented from the school. Hinata bought her saxophone and has kept it under maintenance.

Shikamaru’s parents bought him his drum set and he learned how to play on his own. Choji does keep up with his guitar lessons but he did save up alot to get his electric guitar and a bass.

Card games

Hinata, Sasuke, and Shikamaru cannot play competitive and strategic card/board games. Scrabble, poker, 21, War, Bullshit is off the list. A Lot of decks, mostly up to 3 at a time and they are very distinguished between all of them.

Sakura refuses to play but does rude commentary to any group she is overseeing. Usually magic, because of Sasuke.

Choji doesn’t play anything but he does place bets on who would win with his snacks.

Magic the gathering.

Sasuke, Itachi played. Black Commander Deck

Sai, again his older brother. Green and Black Commander Deck.

Tenten; She found it and didn’t want something that Lee and Neji enjoy. Standard White and Blue Deck.

Yu-gi-oh.

Hinata; only because Neji played. Silent Magician Deck

Neji; because Lee played. He didn’t want to seem stupid. Hero elemental deck

Lee, he just likes the anime. But does have Yusei’s deck

Ino, she likes the pictures on Toon town and they let her do whatever but to some extent.

Both. 

Kiba; Rarely, Magic first. Green and Red Commander. Gear deck

Naruto; Rarely, yugioh first Odd-eyes deck and Black and White Standard Deck.

Kiba, dissing on Yugioh.

Naruto: Shut up, your mother buys you mega blocks instead of legos.

Hinata and Sasuke are both petty about each other’s card games. They each have respective sleeves and taunt each other, constantly.

Neji and Lee look at Tenten on the magic side and hate that she betrayed them. She’s just glad that they don't harp on her in her card game.

Pokemon.

Shikamaru, because no one knows how to fucking play.

Shino only collects the cards.

Shino showing Shikamaru his deck.

Hinata: Oh, are you playing?

Shino: You can play it?

Shikamaru has tried to teach Shino. Shino doesn’t sleeve his cards and when they take damage, he puts some non wet, non greasy food on his card.

Once the pokemon dies, Shino eats the snack. There are crumbs everywhere and Shikamaru’s pet peeve is being messy. Shikamaru appreciates Hinata’s and Sasuke’s sleeves.

Shows

Ino loves Reality TV and other things. But hates the Kardasians. Loves Rupaul drag race.

Sai is often encouraged by Ino to watch anime around her and he also finds anime that she thinks he hasn’t seen.

Sai has brought up Keeping up with the Kardasians and it was a mistake, he thought she would like it.

Ino: The Kardaisians are garbage and Kyle Jenner is a fake as hoe!

Sakura, from another room, hearing Ino rant: Did someone bring up the Kardasians?

Sai: Yeah.

Ino: Never do that again dear.

Sai: Got it sweetheart.

Ino has never actually called any other of her partners by a pet name but she does with Sai and they act like a married couple sometimes. They never talked about it. I mean they have shared stuff about each other that no one else knows. Coming out to each other, learning together because they both feel safe and comfortable with each other. Trust each other a lot.

Elementary bus crew.

Morning

Konoha 12 except Hinata

Naruto was so used to being independent that he has left his house on his own for school. It has freaked his parents more than once but they just watch over him as he goes to school.

Naruto always spots a red haired kid on the opposite of his bus stop with two older people that he holds their hands. Naruto always waves at him and waits until the day he waves back.

Gaara is very affected by his past life, like he was carving the kanji for love when his mom walked in because Temari tried to stop it but couldn’t take the blade away from him. She got slashed on her arm as a result.

Karura walks in and gasps softly.

Karura: Gaara sweetie.

Gaara: Mama, you're alive?

Karura: Of course. Please put the knife down.

Gaara: Knife?

Gaara completes carving in perfect kanji and stops once he completes it. Then the pain registrator for him

Choji is allergic to mustard, he found out in elementary and by accident. Shikamaru went to the teacher and Hinata stayed with Choji because he was rubbing his face and making his hives worse.

Afternoon

Rest of the Konoha 12 except (Hinata Neji and Shikamaru) No Sai yet.

Middle school. Bus Crew

Morning

Konoha 12 except Hinata, Ino, and Sakura

Afternoon

Konoha 12 Except Hinata, Tenten, Neji and Sasuke

High school bus crew.

Morning

Hinata was too scared to do it on her own in elementary, she tried in middle school and failed, but she succeeded in high school. She has to wake up an extra hour and walk to her stop but she doesn’t after freshman year. She got used to it

Afternoon

Everyone unless they have clubs, even then there is an after after school bus.

Hinata and Neji are on the richer side of town and everyone in middle school often joked about how they are on the west side while everyone else is on the east side.

They all meet on sports day. The other schools were pitted against each other east versus west.

Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto were in a group together and were mocking Neji from a distance.

Naruto: Ew, is that a West sider?!

Sakura: Is that a boy or girl?

Naruto: It doesn’t matter! It’s a west sider!

Hinata from behind them, joins in.

Hinata: Ew a west sider.

Naruto, turning around: You got that r-

Hinata a carbon copy of the guy they were mocking.

Naruto: AH!!! They got us from behind!

Hinata blushes: Naruto-kun 

Naruto: Oh, it’s just you Hinata.

They don’t know each other at this point, Sasuke and Sakura look bamboozled at their interaction.

Hinata is going to therapy for this because her parents are worried and she just wants a break from the whole past life stuff.

Hinata sighs to herself: Not again

Hinata walks off towards where Neji is and leaves Naruto in her wake.

Naruto’s motto: We are here to cause some ruckus, then DIP!!!