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al-the-remix · 28 days

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BuckTommy Whump Week Day 4: Prompts: Getting shot // Chronic pain

Another fic for @bucktommywhumpweek! I'm hoping to finish a few more of these before the week is actually over, lol. Rated: E ... I don't know if this really qualifies as whump (like my last whump week fic 💀) but I just can't help making them all sappy atm.

What people didn’t know about bullets was that they rarely went through-and-through in a nice neat manner; not through walls, or car doors, or flesh. They bounced around inside you like a rubber ball, inflicting the most damage possible.

Buck had seen the aftermath more times than would have liked to.

The memory of being called to his first GSW was a visceral one, it had been a domestic dispute and once they’d loaded the victim into the bus, Hen had rubbed his back as he’d thrown up into some nearby shrubbery. Buck could still feel the acid burn in the back of his throat when he remembered it.

He’d seen cadaver photos in his text books, but those never compared to the real thing. The sheer volume of blood that poured out of people was enough to make him nauseous just thinking about it. The cartoonish version of a bullet hole that he’d carried around in his head for most of his life just hadn’t held up.

Maybe it had been shortsighted of him, but Buck had never taken the time to consider what might come later; not until Tommy had taken Buck’s hand in his own and laid it over the meat of his shoulder and let Buck feel the little knobs of bullet fragments lodged there, like ball bearings trapped beneath his skin.

“Do they bother you?” Buck asked, in wonder.

“Not often,” Tommy replied, his hand still blanketing Buck’s as he let him dig his fingers into his shoulder muscle like he would be more than happy to just leave it there forever. “Most of the time I forget they're even there.”

Buck found that hard to believe. He couldn’t imagine having a foreign object stuck in his body and not obsessing over it every moment of every day.

Tommy was giving him an amused, knowing look.

“What?”

“You’re going to be thinking about those for a while aren’t you?”

Buck huffed, rolling his eyes. It was a little unsettling maybe, sometimes, being understood so through and quickly by another person. He liked it; it made him feel all shivery and warm inside, but more importantly it made him feel daring. Bold.

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

Tommy took Buck’s hand in his own: his palm big, warm and dry, and slid it down to rest on the muscular curve of his outer thigh. “There’s some more over here too,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as Buck gave all the nice warm flesh there a squeeze.

There wasn’t a lot of talking after that, but Tommy had been right, Buck had thought about it for a while, his mind stuck on invisible scars and mementoes carried around inside you that no one else could see.

///

Buck wasn’t sure if it was the thunder or the soft orange glow spilling into the mezzanine that woke him. Quiet noises came from the kitchen below, the muted purr of the kettle and the shuffle of Tommy’s socked feet against the tile. Tommy had still been in Buck’s bed when he’d fallen asleep hours ago, tucked up against Tommy’s side as Tommy read by the lamp light.

Buck pulled on his sweatpants and made his way down to the main floor, feeling oddly awake for 4 am. He rarely had a bad night’s sleep when Tommy was with him, taking up space in Buck’s bed and stealing his covers.

Tommy sent him a guilty look when he noticed Buck, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, not pulling honey from Buck’s kitchen cabinet. He was wearing one of Buck’s old hoodies and some sleep shorts. The circles under his eyes were dark and deep. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispered like Buck might be standing there in front of him, still asleep.

“I don’t mind,” Buck said and meant it. He wasn't the one with the shift in far too few hours.

Buck leaned back against the edge of the counter crossing his arms as he did, and settled in. He knew whatever was bothering Tommy would work its way out on its own, like a splinter buried beneath skin. He watched quietly as Tommy stirred honey into his tea. Buck was no stranger to sleepless nights and aching bones. Tommy had sat with him through some of the more recent bad nights, endlessly patient.

Buck watched him closely, quietly analyzing the tilt of his body and the clench of his jaw as Tommy leaned against the counter opposite him. The cool light from the stove hugged the contours of his face, digging out dark wedges beneath those cheekbones that could cut glass.

“Well, aren't you gonna ask?”

Buck shrugged. “I figured I'd just wait you out.”

Tommy sighed, setting his mug to the side. He was smart enough to know when he was on the losing side of a battle. “It's the scar tissue around the shrapnel I've still got in me. Every so often it begins to pull in uncomfortable ways and makes it impossible to get settled.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Tommy tilted his head like he was really considering Buck and his words. “Honestly I don't know, I normally just take an Ibuprofen and put on a movie or something and try to just ignore it.”

“Well, I think we can do better than that,” Buck said, and Tomy raised a brow, curiosity peaked.

With hands planted firmly on Tommy’s shoulders, Buck guided him back upstairs to bed and got him splayed out on his belly across the center of the mattress on a towel, sweater-less, with his arms tucked comfortably under his head.

“Finally, just where I want you,” Buck teased as he straddled Tommy’s waist, reaching for the massage oil. He could feel Tommy’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, muffled by the pillow.

Buck admired the span of Tommy’s back as he warmed the oil up between his hands, deciding where to begin. The bullet and shrapnel scars were faint now, Buck knew their locations by memory and feel alone. He started by smoothing his hands up the center of Tommy’s back, following the column of his spine and the thick muscles flanking it, getting Tommy warmed up and used to his touch before applying more pressure.

Buck always preferred to talk while he worked, and with Tommy the smooth flow of words came easy. If he let himself, he could probably let his mouth run for hours, and Tommy would listen.

“You know, I wanted to be a masseuse for a while.”

Tommy hummed, his eyes had drifted shut when Buck began to work on the tight knot of tissue just below his shoulder blade, he peeled one open now, offering Buck an amused look over his shoulder. “And which hunky guy did you follow that career into?”

“Ha ha,” Buck said, poking his fingers playfully into Tommy's side, just to watch him squirm. “Actually, it was after working at the ranch, there was this ex bronco rider, who had compressed his spine one too many times, mucking out stalls with me. He told me all about how his girlfriend had taken massage therapy classes to help him with his back because his insurance wouldn’t cover the treatment.”

“Ah, so it was a hunky girl that time.”

Buck chuckled. He liked how easy it was to talk with Tommy about stuff like this; he wasn’t ashamed of himself or his past, but he was wary of how people might perceive him because of it. He’d wanted so badly for Tommy to think of him as a serious person, to know that Buck was all in. That dating him didn’t imply some sort of unspoken risk–and with Tommy it never had.

“You know me–I always liked the idea of helping people, I just didn't know how, yet.”

“Maybe I’m being selfish, but I think you ended up right where you were supposed to be,” Tommy said, and groaned in pleasure when Buck really started working at the scar tissue webbed deep within his back muscle.

“How’s that feel?” Buck asked, anticipating Tommy's approval.

“Fucking awesome.”

Buck grinned. He knew he was good with his hands, but it was a whole nother thing entirely to be good with his hands for Tommy. Pleased with himself, a heavy satisfaction settled warm in the pit of his stomach. He loved everything about this: having Tommy pliable and relaxed beneath him, working slick skin over with his hands, making Tommy feel good, being able to help in some small way.

Buck shuffled down, straddling Tommy’s leg so he could work his fingers into the outside of Tommy’s thigh where he knew a metal shard the size of his thumbnail lived. That one had been logged in there when an IED had struck the lead vehicle in their convoy, and some of Buck’s satisfaction melted away as he thought about just how many close calls his boyfriend’s body was littered with. He was normally the one getting shit for taking risks, but in truth Tommy was just as guilty as he was.

Tommy had gone completely boneless underneath him, his skin pink and a little shiny from having Buck’s oiled up hands all over him. He continued to rub gently circles into his skin even after he’d finished with the final shrapnel wound he knew of, running his nails lightly over the thick swirls of hair on the backs of Tommy’s legs.

Tommy shifted his hips against the mattress, spreading his legs a little wider. Buck knew that move, and that satisfaction in his gut twisted and flared back to life. He slid his hands up the backs of Tommy’s thighs as slowly as he could handle.

“Are you hard?” he asked, worming his fingers under the hem of Tommy’s shorts when he reached them.

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. “That felt really good, but, uh, we don’t have to do anything, you must be tired and–”

He was starting to sound way too with it for Buck’s liking. Buck dug his thumbs into the soft inner flesh of Tommy’s thighs and let his hips roll in a slow, pointed drag along the back of Tommy’s leg so there was no way he could miss the semi Buck was sporting.

Tommy’s muscles jumped under his hands as he groaned. “Okay, Okay, you’ve made your point. Help me out of these–”

Buck was more than happy to peel Tommy’s shorts down his legs as Tommy lifted his hips obligingly. He had half a mind to just dump a generous amount of the oil on Tommy’s big pale ass and go to town, but he had a feeling that would probably ruin the [slowly winding] mood they’d built.

In a show of what he considered great restraint, Buck slipped a slick hand between Tommy’s thighs, rolling his balls softly in the palm of his hand just to hear the noises he would make. Quiet chuffs and deep groans were muffled by the pillow as Tommy ground his hips in lazy circles against the mattress and back into Buck’s hand, and Buck was starting to think he’d never get over how good it felt to have another man like this: a big body to push and pull and work at until it ultimately unraveled.

Buck stretched up so he could press a kiss to the thick curve of Tommy’s shoulder, not caring one bit about the oil that still clung to his skin. He let his hand drift up and rubbed his slick fingers indulgently over Tommy’s asshole, gratified by the way he moaned and pushed into it.

“You can if you want to,” Tommy said, breathless, and Buck could tell without even looking at his face how gone he was just from having Buck’s hands on him.

“I have a better idea,” Buck said, pulling at Tommy’s hip. “Here–roll onto your side for me.”

It didn’t take Tommy long to clue in once Buck pressed himself all up along his back and reached for the bottle of oil again, slicking his dick up in the shallow space between their bodies.

His body tensed when realization dawned. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Evan– ”

And it was Tommy’s turn to lose his cool, his voice reedy and feverish, a thin tremor through his body as Buck maneuvered his thigh so he could fit his dick into that hot, tight space between them. He wrapped an arm around the barrel of Tommy’s chest, pinning him tight against his own as Buck took that first long, indulgent roll of his hips.

Buck had always enjoyed fucking someone’s thighs–what wasn’t there to like–but there was something specific about the way Tommy got so worked up over it, even in the early hours of the morning after a sleepless night, even when Buck had just worked his body to jello with his hands, that rocketed the act up into the stratosphere.

Tommy squeezed his thighs around him, Buck could hear the labored cadence of his breathing and the obscene sounds of him fisting his own cock, as Buck fucked the slick give of his thighs. The way the head of his dick kept nudging up against the soft resistance of Tommy’s balls with every stroke was still just different enough to scratch at Buck’s brain in new and interesting ways.

Tommy’s fingers dug into his hair, pulling Buck’s face down so he could slide their mouth together at an awkward angle. The kiss was sloppy, Tommy kept sucking Buck’s tongue into his mouth and then breaking away to moan again and again as he got closer to coming. Buck could feel it all through his body, wound like a coil ready to spring. He wasn’t far behind, his plan to keep things slow and simmering had fallen through quickly. He should have known better; with Tommy pressed against him like one big throbbing pulse, overwhelming Buck’s senses with the musky scent of his body, and the sounds he made when he touched himself, and how good it felt to rut against him like this, the desperate slide of skin against skin, there was just no chance he was going to last.

Buck buried his face in the hollow of Tommy’s shoulder, just above where that pale constellation of shrapnel lived, and stilled as he came in thick pulses all along Tommy’s taint, that little space between his thighs instantly going wet and frictionless.

Tommy made a wounded sound, and Buck held him tight in the cradle of his arms as Tommy hitched his hips into his fist until he came. He was still pressing kisses against Tommy’s damp hairline when Tommy reached up and laced their fingers together, no longer shaking.

“Well, I’m definitely not thinking about the stupid shrapnel anymore.”

“Good,” Buck said, allowing himself to feel smug about it. “My work here is done.”

“Not so quick hot stuff,” Tommy said, reaching back to pat him on the hip. “I expect your help de-oiling in the shower. I think this mess is a four-handed operation.”

“Yes, sir.” Buck peeled himself from where he’d been clinging to Tommy like a limpet.

He took a moment to admire the long, glistening stretch of Tommy’s body, limp and satisfied. Debauched, even.

"What?" Tommy asked, stretching his arms above his head as he rolled onto his back, offering Buck a good view of where his come was actively drying in his happy trail. Buck would have a fun time scrubbing that out.

"Nothing, I'm just happy you're here, with me."

Tommy face went immediately soft and he pressed up on his knees so he could pull Buck into one more lingering kiss before breaking away.

"There's no where I'd rather be."

#bucktommy #mine

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hevansent · 3 months

Text

A little bit.

☆♡ ☆♡ ☆♡ ☆♡ ☆

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(finally getting something out💀)

tom kaulitz x fem reader

context: you wonder if you’re ready for love again and you wonder if it could be him

warnings: p in v, confession, cussing?

☆♡

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bored. Bored out of your mind. What were you supposed to do? In your mind, you embarrassingly had no friends. Not even a roommate. All alone in your apartment.

Though, there was one person. Tom Kaulitz. Could you even consider him your friend? It was a strange relationship.

Supposedly you two were just messing around. Sneaky links you could call it.

And you didn’t know much about this stuff, but Tom took much better care of you than shitty ex’s who gave you heartbreak after another. Were you even ready for a relationship?

Contrary to popular belief and public opinion, this boy was the sweetest and most caring you’ve ever met. Did you love him? The boy who snuck around only to fuck you? Or was there actually more to it?

Maybe you were just getting in your head. Loneliness and deprivation driving you to insanity. Pacing around your apartment, you stopped in to kitchen, sighing as you picked up the phone and dialed his number, hoping he wasn’t busy.

To your luck, his voice rasped a quiet ’hi’ on the other line. Your heart immediately picked up, your skin tingling.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Only now did you realize how late it was, giving yourself an upside down smile and putting a hand on your forehead.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Do you need anything?” His voice was so sweet to you, satisfyingly smooth.

“Um.. Can you come over?” You childishly crossed your fingers, hoping he’d say yes. He always said yes to you, didn’t he?

“Mhm. I’ll be there soon, Prinzessin.” God, every time he called you that you felt like you could explode.

“Yeah, okay.” You smiled, hanging up the phone and placing it back in the holder.

You laid on the couch, all giddy like a schoolgirl as you waited for him to come over.

After an hour of waiting, there was a soft knock on the solid apartment door. If you weren’t so focused on him coming over you probably wouldn’t have heard.

You got up, heading over to the door as you attempted to settle your emotions. The door opened with a soft click and you smiled, admiring his perfect face for a second before moving out of the way.

“Hi, Prinzessin.” He wrapped his strong arms around you, his embrace comforting and warm against your chilled skin.

“Hi.” You muffled into his chest, breathing in his naturally sweet scent and closing your eyes.

The hug slowly parted and you took his hand, gently guiding him to your room as it was what you usually did.

He gently laid you down, crawling up your body and placing a soft kiss on your lips. You could already feel your body responding.

“I missed you.” He smiled softly against your lips, his hand gently caressing your waist.

Your eyes gently opened, searching his as you wondered. How did he miss you? Did he miss your body? Or did he miss YOU? The whole you. Was that something he knew?

“I miss you too.” And that was true. You missed every single thing about him. You wanted him. Not just the part of him between his legs. You wanted him as the man he was. All of him.

He brushed your hair out of your face with his fingers and kissed you again, deeper, more passion. You twirled his braids around your fingers, moaning softly as he made his way down your neck.

His large hand slipped under your shirt, cupping your breast and squeezing, nipple hardening at his touch.

Your breathing picked up and your body felt hot, ready for him to take your clothes off. You pulled on his shirt until it was off his body, tossing it somewhere in the room.

Your fingers traced his skin, able to feel him tense against them. You smiled, tilting his jaw up so you could kiss him again, hand snaking around to the back of his neck.

Being around him gave you a boost of confidence you were unaware you had, attractiveness radiating off of you all because of him. Maybe it was the way he worshipped you.

“I need you, Tom.” Your voice was suddenly silk, his name rolling of your tongue with ease and not a stutter even thought of.

“You can be patient, can’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, slowly teasing you through your shorts.

“No.” You whispered, your hands desperately trying to undo his belt. So, so needy.

He chuckled and shook his head, pushing your hands away and pulling you closer by your hips before pushing your thighs back.

You whimper, already imagining Tom inside you as he teased and played with you.

Finally, after what felt like forever he pulled shorts off, tilting his head when he found you wearing no panties.

A gasp emitted from your lips as he flipped you into your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up as he toyed with your ass and slit.

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” He smacked your ass before gripping the flesh and pulling at it.

You moaned in response, arching your ass up in hopes of him finally giving you what you wanted.

And that he did, his belt clinking and the rest of his clothes piling on the floor.

Tom teased you once again, running his leaking tip up and down your slit, pushing just the head in before pulling out.

“Tom, please!” You whined, wiggling your ass back against him as you attempt to push yourself onto his cock.

“You’re a brat.” He chuckled and pushed inside, making you take every inch, stretching you out in the best way possible.

You moaned, hands digging into the sheets as you put your head down.

“You’re so perfect, baby. Feel s’good on me.” Tom spoke in short breaths, his voice rough.

“Mmmmph!” You mewled into the sheets, reaching back to hold onto him which he happily obliged, taking both your hands in his and pulling you back against him.

His cock was so deep inside you, your pussy so wet there was a soft squelch. He watches his cock move in and out, thrusting slow before picking up the pace again.

Moans and curses fell from both your mouths, your stomach getting tighter and tighter as your legs shook.

“Mm gonna cum, Tom!” Your back arch, stomach pushing into the mattress and his cock was hitting at the perfect angle.

“Me too, baby… Fuck, cum for me.” He groaned, his cock twitch as you clenched around him. That was all you needed to hear, crying out and painting his cock in your juices.

His moans were blurred as you rode your high, the spasms of your pussy quickly causing him to follow after you, filling you up with his sticky cum.

His thrust slowed down, feeling his warmness inside you. He slowly pulled out, watching his cum seep out of you as you both panted.

Tiredly, Tom laid beside you, pulling you into his arms and playing with your hair.

Soon the effects of your orgasm wore off and you were left to thinking again, thinking about him.

Did you love him? That would be ridiculous… But maybe you did. Just a little bit was okay, right?

You picked your head up, looking at his face. His eyes were closed but you know he was awake.

“Tom?” You whispered, tracing your fingers on his chest as you received a ‘hm?’ in response.

You had to do it. Just get it off your chest. It was better to than let it bottle up. What’s the worst that could happen?

“I think i love you…” You chewed your lip nervously, watching his face for a reaction.

His eyes opened, his expression undetermined as he gazed at you. But his eyes were soft and comforting, making you feel tingly.

“I love you too, Prinzessin…

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #Spotify

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writingmeraki · 2 years

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angel kisses.

a cho guesung drabble !

genre: fluff, just fluff.

pairing : cho guesung x gn!reader, bf!guesung, established relationship.

warnings : none really like one dirty but not even extreme joke and kisses.

author's note : here i present to you, an idea that rotted in my brain since a while, i don't even know if i like it but i just think guesung has pretty moles :( literally 2 am brain dump and i have an exam in like 7 hours 💀 anyways enjoy and let me know what you think ! ( not proofread or edited yikes)

word count : 0.9k - 1k ?

There was something you'd heard off the good ol forsaken tales of the internet, in the depths of the tweets which floated on your timeline,which actually was one of the few things you'd found to be very fascinating.

"People say moles are where your lover had kissed you the most in your past life."

Wow, that's actually really... beautiful

You first thought when you read of it.

Beauty marks were never really something you'd paid attention to, in your mind it didn't really seem significant enough but now with this newly found information, you also took upon notice of something.

Guesung's angel kisses.

(you preferred the word angel kisses over moles, at least Google told you angel kisses was another name for moles so you stuck to that)

You knew your lover was significantly beautiful, ethereal. He was truly one of the most handsome men you'd ever met and you were shocked actually as to how you managed to even make him be yours and vice versa.

But back to the point, that day as you'd been doing your regular routine of winding everything up to call it a day when Guesung had gotten back from his work.

You observed his face and blinked in surprise when you observed just how many beauty marks he had on his face. It wasn't like you did not know they exist, you of course did, but you never truly counted them, you just found them cute and your mind did just brush them off.

So as you both lay in your shared bed, cuddled closer than ever, limbs over each other, your head on his shoulder as you observed the left side of his face, mentally counting the angel kisses while he had been reading a book with his reading spectacles on.

And oh you mentally swooned every damn time he had those glasses on, they just suited him and fit his face so perfectly.

"Babe, what's up? A penny for your thoughts?" Guesung spoke as he put aside his book and directed his gaze towards you while yours moved to that one mark he had right on his bottom eyelid.

You gently chuckled as you noted this and spoke "You know i read about something today, more like found on a tweet but I think it's really cute."

Guesung looked at you expectantly, a curious look now grazing over his face as he lifted his brow.

"Well it's like you know the beauty marks we have on our body? You know the moles which are also called angel kisses ? Apparently, people say moles are where your lover had kissed you the most in your past life."

You said not being able to hide your grin at the thought of your other newly found information

"And you know i noticed something as well, you have angel kisses all of your face which probably means your past lover really loved your face huh?"

You lifted one of your fingers to trace over the respective moles your eyes found starting from the area right above his chin to the ones on his cheeks and then finally in your opinion the most beautiful one, the one on his bottom eyelid.

He couldn't help but smile at you as his eyes followed your movements, quietly listening to you and letting you do what you wanted and after you were done,

"Well then in this lifetime, I do hope my lover not only loves my face but also my whole body."

He mischievously spoke trying to imply something to which you gently smacked his chest, narrowing your eyes at him for trying to ruin the cute moment you were having.

"Shut up. You and your...words."

You whispered and tried to cover up your warm face by burying it in the crook of his neck as you also wanted your thoughts of his words implications to calm down to which he just laughed, his chest moving in the rhythm of his laughter and you could feel the subtle vibrations of it as though you were laughing as well.

As he calmed down from seeing your flustered state over just his words, a thought, just a small one seemed to have taken over the entire thought process over your mind and you wanting to be bold for once decided to let that intrusive thought win as you looked up at Guesung, biting your own lip at what you were about to do.

Guesung sat up more straight as you moved in front of him now on his lap, to which he then moved his hands to rest on your waist.

Softly placing your hands on his chest, you moved closer to his face and kissed one of his moles on his chin.

And then another on his cheek,

Then again a light peck on the one on his cheekbone.

His eyes had fluttered shut the moment you kissed the first one, he basked in the warmth that spread across his face and body which happened because of your kisses.

He loved the tingles which moved through every nerve in his body as you continued kissing his face at the random spots yet he knew where you were kissing.

And finally he absolutely loved the gentle kiss you pressed on his eye to which he could not resist the urge anymore as he fluttered his eyes open and pulled your very familiar yet homely lips to his, sending the same tingles he felt pulsating through your own body as you both giggled in your own little world of utter joy.

Never had he loved his angel kisses that day as he had when he realised that his one true love found the cutest of delights in them.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

links : main navigation !

#cho guesung #cho gue sung #cho guesung imagines #cho gue sung fanfic #cho gue sung x reader #cho guesung drabbles #cho guesung ff #cho guesung x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #x female reader #cho guesung fluff #cho guesung fic #his moles are so pretty hehe <3 #[ pri works ]

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savemeafruitjuice · 10 months

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I saw your post and automatically came here, the truth is I would like to know about your TADC tickle headcanons, if it is not a problem of course

ok yes ily (platonically) lemme produce some hc.

THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS HEADCANNONS!

(hopefully they don't suck, I just had a fever of 104 a couple hours ago 💀)

Caine:

SCREAMS and flies away at the slightest poke

or... he will just power down. Yeah, best bet is to let him escape.

But, on the off chance you actually capture him and he is still conscious, his tickle spots are his thighs, ribs, biceps, and hips.

He laughs very loudly. Prepare your eardrums.

He doesn't really get teases, and therefore doesn't use them. However, he does fall for all of them. ("Don't!" "Don't what, Caine? Use your words!" "Tickle me!")

Doesn't mind being tickled but it flusters him a bit.

Isn't tickled very often, but his most common ler is Bubble (the little rapscallion)

Although, he is a ler a very good lot of the time.

When tickling, he gives lots of compliments to his lee, which fluters them, but he doesn't particularly get why.

Caine also doesn't know when to stop.

Literally, one of the other circus members will have to confront him and tell him to back off.

He is reasonable at aftercare, giving the lee more compliments on how well they took it (even if they didn't) and pats them on the shoulder

Tickles the circus members for swearing!

Thinks tickling is fun

Has definitely made more than one of the adventures of the day rather tickly 👀

Kinger:

You already know. He will scream and thrash and flail.

Ticklish basically everywhere

Will claim he is being murdered when tickled and honestly sounds like he is.

Very screechy laughter

I'm not completely sure if he has a body or not, but let's just say he does.

Isn't a ler very often at all, he doesn't have the confidence.

On the 1% chance he is a ler, it would be if he is asked.

Light tickles

Gets scared when tickling someone and stops immediately at the first protest.

Pomni:

Will swat and squirm when tickled

Will giggle and laugh, but overall has a mild reaction

Unless she is startled by the tickling, then she will shriek and thrash a bit

Ticklish spots are knees, armpits, belly, ribs, neck, sides, hips

Doesn't really know how to tease, so she will just stare at her lee with an intense glare, but this ends up flustering them so it's a win

Is usually a lee, but like Kinger, she will tickle others if asked

A very gentle ler

Will mainly just scribble in the lees tickle spots until they are a giggly heap

Unless she gets pissed.

Then she is sliiiightly more ruthless

Pomni does know when to stop though, but isn't very good at aftercare.

She will thank the lee for letting her tickle them and may sit in silence for a while before exiting the room/area.

Ragatha:

Quite ticklish

Has sweet laughter that's bound to warm the soul (help I'm really cold)

Will fight back a bit, but not much, mainly just grabbing their hands

Her stomach, hips, legs, neck, and feet are ticklish

She thinks tickling is fun and a good way to relax or cheer someone up

Ragatha is more of a ler, and always makes sure the person she's tickling is comfortable

Teases her lee by telling them how cute they look, how sweet their laughter is, etc.

She knows exactly when her lee has had enough

AFTERCARE QUEEN!

She will cuddle her lee, hug them, tell them how amazing they are, get them water, whatever. (she makes sure they're comfortable with hugging/cuddling first ofc)

Gangle:

Veeery ticklish

Can't really fight back that well because well, she's made of ribbons

Has to trust the ler to know when to stop

She will flail and scream when tickled

Has only been a ler on two separate occasions

Even then, it was because another circus member was tickling one of the crew and asked her to join

Very nervous ler

Uses ribbons to glide over tickle spots

Secretly likes tickling

Will draw tickle art when in a lee/ler mood, but is always to shy to ask anyone to tickle her/let her tickle them

Zooble:

Not ticklish.

It was attempted once by someone (It was Jax, shhhhh)

Lets just say no one ever tried again.

Tickled the ever-loving hell out of the certain someone 🐇

Everyone was terrified

No one ever mentioned it again.

Hasn't been involved in tickling since

Doesn't like tickling

Jax:

Silly boy.

After getting bored of his usual shenanigans, he remembered tickling and went feral

Has (tried to) tickle everyone in the circus

TEASY LER TEASY LER

An absolute menace when it comes to tickling people

Will pin his lee down and torture them with teases and tickles

Surprisingly enough, he actually knows when to stop

Sure he may push his lee extremely close to their limit, but he'll stop when he sees the 'victim' has had enough

Kind of funny aftercare

He just kinds looks at the person he almost obliterated into abstraction to make sure they're okay

Then makes a dumb comment on how they look dumb or something and goes to do something else

After the Zooble incident, he got wrecked countless times

Sometimes it was light tickles, other times it was full on torment

Swore he was going to call ASPCA (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals)

Has a cackly laugh and will squirm quite a bit

"Hates tickling" ( 🧢 )

Very dramatic and will pretend to faint or die or smth

If the option is available, he will curl into a ball

come get your slop

#tadc #headcannons #the amazing digital circus #tadc tickle #the amazing digital circus tickle #tadc hc #come get your slop

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onewmin · 1 year

Text

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 12 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, Minors dni, smut, mentions of suggestive themes, an unhealthy amount of Taylor Swift references, another episode of dumbassery of these two clowns, profanity, some personal growth (i guess????); typos

Word count: around 7000 (im sorry 💀)

Author’s note: ugh, well... It is what it is. Hope you don't hate me <3 Enjoy the chapter! (this is NOT the end of the deries, btw) Tell me what you think! I'm always hoping for a feedback :)

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 11 | Part 13

“Do you like that?”

Nodding absentmindedly, Chan furrowed his brows at the shivering sensations of Micha bouncing up and down his cock. His fingers were leaving crescent marks on her hips; Chan hissed at her digging her nails in his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held onto her for dear life - just to get that final, luscious release he’s been craving lately.

Another moan left her lips as she sank down his length; Chan, on the other hand, was trying his best to ignore the sounds she’s been making. Because with every sigh of hers, with every whimper that left her mouth the only thing Chris could think about was you. The sounds you were making when in bed with him; the way your long nails dug in his shoulders when he would thrust into you as deeply as it was possible; your silky skin under his fingers when you’d cling onto him, coming back from your high. Every moan of Micha’s was replaced by your soft voice and fucked-out smile whenever he would caress you cheek.

Chan shook his head; and when he opened his eyes, you weren’t there. But Micha was. She was everything he could’ve ever asked for - however, she was still not enough. Her long blonde hair, styled differently every day, her toned body - as if she’d trained along with him; her sweet love and caring persona, their difference in height, her wearing the ‘feminine’ style Chan absolutely loved - all of it seems to be a dream come to true for him, right? She reasoned with him just the right amount - without turning it into a full-blown aggressive pillow fight; she was on board with giving him space, she was… Right for him. If ‘right’ meant being as unhappy as he was, he probably has made a wrong choice.

The water in the shower ran as Chan stood on the balcony of his apartment. Wearing nothing but his pajama pants, he shivered under a rather chilly early morning wind. 2 AM. Micha came over three hours ago, right after they left the club together. Endless partying, new people, bonding over alcohol and making fun of their exes, Chan felt a tingling in his chest every time his mind would wander to the thoughts of you. No amount of liquor could wash away the handprints you left on his soul; it seemed as though you traced your fingers all over his skin and all over his insides, his ribs, his heart.

Every time he brooded over the relationship you shared, Chan couldn’t come to a proper conclusion of what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to run after you, chase the dream of the woman he loved even after you threw him away? Well, it's the other way round, actually, but it didn’t really change much: you were far away physically now. Emotionally though, you’d been distant for way longer; was it his fault? It certainly was - it’s not like you were absolutely innocent in this mess, but less at fault than him. It took Chan several months and a new, rotting relationship to realize it.

Micha’s warm arms wrapped around his torso, pulling Chan from his endless reflection on the poor choices he’s ever made. “Let’s go to bed”, she murmured; her cheek was resting on his back, and Chan sighed, hands still gripping the railings.

“Micha”, he uttered, “d’you love me?”

She frowned. “We’ve only been back together four months. It’s too early to…Say something like that”.

Chan chuckled, gently getting her arms off his body. He sat down on the chair and continued staring at the city lights; no matter how much he loved Melbourne, it didn’t feel like home anymore. It seemed as an exile, a place he was sent off to reminisce about his past, perfect life. An exile without the love of his life.

“‘Cause I don’t think I do”, he muttered, chin resting on the palm of his hand. Micha sat down oppositely and took another hand of his in hers.

“Again, it’s been too little time”, to Chris, the softness in her voice sounded like poison - as if he’d willingly drank a bottle of toxins to erase the tiniest memory of the love he lost. “‘T’s too early to know for sure”.

“You think so?” He looked at her for the first time in the last few minutes. Micha nodded, giving him a small smile.

“We can still work it out”, she stood up and took a couple of steps to go back inside, “unless”, she stopped to turn her head to look at him, “it’s something that you want with me”.

Chan’s eyes darted from the balcony door to the city in desperate attempts of holding back tears; with her, with Micha? What does he even want from her? Chan has absolutely zero clue now. She’s a wonderful person, a beautiful woman, who seems to have affection towards him for some reason, and Chan? He only uses her to forget, to bury himself so deep in her that he wouldn’t have to maniacally think about the other woman. The other woman he pushed away himself when the only thing she wanted was to give him love he’s been craving for so long. The love from her he’s been praying for, the love he’s been suppressing even after finally having her. But did he really have her? Did he really get the girl he’d dreamed of? The only thing he did was raiding her most sacred temple with his barbaric hands, tearing down her shrines of love - only to kick her out of her own sanctuary. He left it with emptiness as well, bringing out nothing but the last pieces of adoration she had left for him. How cruel of him to only realize it now.

Does he have any choice to get through? Can he just show up at your doorstep, bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands? Will you accept his apologies? Will you take him back? That’s something he’s never tried; to apologize, to kneel in front of you, with a will to give you anything you ask for - just to get the slightest hint of forgiveness. Because if he spends another day with someone else sleeping next to him but you, Chan will go insane. It takes everything in him not to moan your name when making love to her; it takes everything not to call out your name when he comes home. The mere mirage of you follows him anywhere he goes, and it’s something he doesn’t want to fight anymore.

“Do you think about her?” Micha’s question hit him out of nowhere and Chan gulped, turning his face away from her. She sat up on the bed; her fingers touched his chin, bringing his gaze back to hers. “Don’t ignore me”.

Staring into the darkness, Chan let out a deep sigh, feeling helpless. “Does it matter?”

“It does. To me”. The slightest notes of hurt in her voice were hidden, but Chan was able to catch them; to realize Micha really started falling for him again, when he never reciprocated in the first place… Nothing. Chan didn’t feel the heavy weight of his consciousness dawn on him like it did before - nothing. Micha might’ve felt betrayed, but Chan couldn’t say he was able to care.

“I do. Satisfied?”

Micha sighed and looked away for a moment. “Why did you take me here then? Why not her? And cut the bullshit with the ‘fight’ you two had”, she interrupted him way before he was able to utter a word, “it could’ve been easily resolved in seconds”.

“‘Cause she’d never go”, Chan mumbled, “‘cause I’ve been an ass to her and she doesn’t trust me anymore”.

“But why would she never come with you?”

“Just ‘cause”, Chris shrugged his shoulders, “she’s not as spontaneous as you and I are”. Chan didn’t really want to discuss the perks of his relationship with Micha - she had a personal interest, after all. He turned to the right side, facing the open balcony; closing his eyes, he felt Micha’s arm wrap around his waist. Suppressing the desire to sigh, Chan let his body snuggle into hers, pressing his back to her chest; having at least some sort of comfort was not bad, after all.

“Did you dream about me?” A ticking whisper sent shivers down his spine; feeling your fingers run up and down his abs, Chris put on his best act not to show he was awake. Actually, he woke up ten minutes before you did - instead of getting up, he preferred to just lay there, your arms wrapped around his waist, fingers intertwined. But you, on the other hand… After whimpering and stretching, your hand was back on his body, whispering absolute atrocities in his ear.

“Was it a wet dream?” You said softly one more time before pinching skin on his forearm.

“Ouch!” Chris finally gave up on his act and turned to face you; knowing his revenge would’ve been instant, you already were out of the bed.

“I’ll hop in the shower!” Chan let out a laugh. You were not the one to indulge in morning sex easily - even though the two of you would do it sometimes, you whined about it almost all the time. You hated the morning breath, the afternight sweat, the tiredness, the timing. Morning sex wasn’t your cup of tea, but, God, you loved winding him up; sometimes Chan thought you enjoyed spilling dirty words more than the sex itself.

Chan trudged from your bedroom to the kitchen; several minutes later, when he was sipping on the orange juice, he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “Morning”, you said, your chin resting on Chan’s shoulder.

“Morning”, he responded, a smile creeping up his face. “You slept well?” You hummed in response and left a kiss on the back of his neck; turning around to face you, he only saw your back as you stared at the open fridge. Delving in your figure, Chan drew his lower lip between his teeth as he watched his shirt shamelessly lift and expose your ass when you stretched your arms. Chan took a small step to leave a loud smack on your butt; yelping, you were caught in his arms, as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

“You asked ‘bout my dream”, he rasped in your ear, pressing your body further into his, “still wanna know what it was?” His hand toyed with the hem of your shirt, fingers running down to your closeted core. You let out a gasp.

“Not really”, your quiet answer made him furrow his brows, “if you tell, it’s gonna result in sex. Don’t really wanna have it now”, you turned around and gave him a smile. “D’you wanna have eggs for breakfast?”

Sitting on the floor, another episode of a reality show running on the TV, Chan and you chewed on the omelets and tomatoes, a favorite breakfast of yours. When you commented on yet another thing on TV, Chan stole glances of you - just to catch every little thing about you that he could. The way your eyes were squinting when you grinned, how you talked back to the people on TV if they did something stupid, the way your head fell back when you were frustrated.

“What the hell is wrong with these people?” You whined, putting the dishes in the sink. “Like why would you even consider gettin’ married after a week of datin’?” You turned on the water - the cold one, presumably - and got the sponge wet. Chan clicked his tongue and almost sprinted from his place in front of the TV to the kitchen space, taking the sponge away from you.

“Stop”, he almost growled, “I know you hate washin’ the dishes”. He turned on the hot water as well. “Y’know, there’s also one more type of water except for the cold one”, his remark earned him a slight smack on the shoulder. The both of you laughed it off, as you wiped the dishes (another chore you preferred to ignore).

“Thanks”, you uttered when he was done. Chan returned the smile and put his hands on your waist as your arms were wrapped around his neck. “Maybe I should hire you to clean up?”

Chris chuckled. “My price is too high for you”.

“Huh?” Her eyes gleamed. “How much is it?”

Too high, Chan thought, peering into her hazel orbs, my price is you, my price is you loving me back. Instead of saying what was needed to be said a long time ago, he shook his head and left a small kiss on your forehead. “Nothin’, forget it”, he squeezed your waist. “I’m just lucky to have you”, he muttered, “as my best friend”. The latter wasn’t supposed to be said, but seeing your startled expression when he said the first part of his sentence, he realised you weren’t ready for his confession, it was too early. Maybe later, maybe some time after-

“Stop”, you mumbled. Chan’s brows knitted as took in the expression on your face; you stared right back into his eyes, an ocean flooding yours. “Stop it. You’re losin’ me. It’s too late”.

A sudden gasp woke Chan up; as he sat on the bed out of the habit rather than a reflex, he pressed his hand to his chest, trying to even his breath. A dream of one of your mornings together ending in this? That’s not what you said back then; Chan frowned, his fingers massaging his forehead, but your exact words couldn’t come to mind. That’s not what you said, he’s sure of it!

Burying his face in his hands, Chan took a deep breath and let it out. How come a dream of you turned into a nightmare? How come even in his dreams he has to see you cry? How come he can never find peace, not even asleep? How come you’re the only thing on his mind, even after all of these months?

“You’re okay?” Micha uttered. “What time is it?”

“Dunno”, Chan snarled, “go back to sleep”.

He stood up and walked to the living room - just to avoid Micha for a couple of minutes. He didn’t want to answer her questions nor wanted to speak at all - his mind wasn’t just there yet. As he sat on the couch, a phone in his hands, the time didn’t even surprise him - he slept only for two hours.

Scrolling down the news, his search brought him back to the fire that happened four months ago. Even after all this time Chan still couldn’t be at peace with the thought of you being with Yugyeom that night. It was him, Chan, who was supposed to be there, to help you, to save you, to comfort you - him, not Yugyeom! Why would he even show up again? Was he… No, Chan refused to believe that. Yet still, he blamed you for holding onto your first love - maybe he wasn’t wrong after all. Or perhaps, he should’ve given you the opportunity to explain everything? Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t have been as miserable as he was now. There would be no pain, no leading Micha on for something he couldn’t even give her, no exile.

What was it that you said in that dream? ‘You’re losing me, it’s too late’? But how can it be so? How?

“Not ‘you lost me’”, Chan murmured staring into the wall, “but ‘You’re losin’ me’”. What if he still has a chance to mend the two of you? What could stop him but his irritating pride?

Chris didn’t need much time to think about his next actions - so, in mere minutes he was browsing the airline website, getting the tickets on the nearest date - which convenietly happened to be today. If it doesn’t work out, his parents were in Seoul, Minho was there - so he would find a way to kill time before going back to Melbourne, right? Right?

Chan let out a sigh, leaning in the soft cushions. It feels like his last chance to chase the train that has just left the station. It left, but Chan is still running, he’s still screaming for it to stop ‘cause he’s sure he’ll get in. Maybe they just don’t hear him? Maybe they didn’t know he was late? They’d stop if they found that out, right? Right? Nevertheless, Chan’s still running, even if the train doesn’t want him to be its passenger.

Looking at the white ceiling, Chan questioned whether you’d want to see him. What if you slam the door right in front of him? “Whatever”, he turned on a random video on his phone, “I’ll get through. I know she feels the same way, I know it’s not gone. I know it”.

Micha was gone at 5 AM; as soon as the door was closed, Chan rushed to his closet to collect the best of his clothes, the ones you loved seeing him in, some new items he knew you’d steal from him - he wanted to look his absolute greatest in front of you. After all, the two of you didn't see each other for how long? Almost six months? More?

Chan wondered if you’d changed much, wondered if you’d kick him out or welcome him back with open arms. And as his suitcase was packed in less than twenty minutes, he sat back on the bed, staring at his phone. He booked the nearest flight - which was in two hours - and now was waiting for his cab. A whole ass journey from Melbourne to Sydney and from Sydney to Seoul – all for just an attempt at mending things. Perhaps, he should’ve done that earlier, so that he wouldn’t have to spend more than twelve hours on the road just for the possibility of having a crumb of your forgiveness. Although, was he even able to apologize?

Another flow of thoughts guided Chan through his first flight to Sydney; with a mask on his face and a cap on his head, Chris was almost unrecognizable. Besides, no one had the slightest idea of his whereabouts — just a few hours ago, while sitting at the airport, he posted a story of himself, marking Melbourne as the place where he was currently. No messages from Han or Felix or Micha; today was supposed to be his day off, so it was quite convenient no one had reached out to him. Yeah right. Why would they when the only thing he does is push everyone away? Felix, his childhood friend, even expressed to him he couldn’t recognise Chan anymore. Maybe it was for the best; after all, everyone grows up and changes their personality, right? “Nah, that’s not quite it”, Felix observed his friend’s face attentively, “it’s like you’re less…you. Feels as if something’s twisted your brain”. What would Felix know anyway, right? Right?

Three hours passed before his flight to Seoul took off; when taking his place near the plane window and putting his seatbelt on, Chan’s phone started buzzing. Oh shit, the manager-agent might be furious.

“Where are you?” Jisung’s voice was surprisingly calm.

“Where are you?” Chan responded. Attacking is the best form of defense, after all.

“I’m at your place”, he responded, “you didn't open the door, so I got in myself. You’re gonna be home soon?”

“Why?” Chris stared at another airplane in the distance. “Missing me already?”

Han clicked his tongue and let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not my type, Bang”. After chewing on something - is this fucker eating my food? - he continued. “So, when are you coming back? I have a business proposal to discuss”.

“What’s that?”

Another sigh left Jisung’s mouth. “I hate when you do that”.

“To put it shortly, that LA label we’ve talked about a couple of weeks ago”, Han chewed on the food again, “they wanna meet up. If you ask me”, he kept on talking - leaving no chance for Chan to even utter a word, “I’d say we should go. Maybe you’ll be able to get out-” He stuttered for a moment. “I mean, you’ll have more opportunities. And a better contract, I presume. And less control”.

“When do they wanna meet up with us?” Chan twisted a ring on his finger absentmindedly.

“At the end of the week. Saturday afternoon”. Han plopped on the couch. “Tell me when you’re gonna be back and I’ll prepare a whole ass presentation for you”.

Now it was Chan’s turn to sigh. He’ll surely be back till Saturday, right? “Actually, Han, I-” His voice suddenly became small, weak even. Jisung will kill him if Chris misses this lifetime opportunity because of a girl. “I’m on the plane to Seoul”.

Silence. Chan couldn’t even hear the sound of Han’s breathing, the chewing abruptly stopped. The only thing Chris could feel was the wave of anxiety that was rising from his stomach up to his throat. Perhaps, he was making a huge mistake; his career was about to bloom on an absolutely different level and what was he doing? Running back to someone who couldn’t even unblock him to hear his side to all of it?

“I have no words, Chan”, Han’s voice had anything but the regular shrill tone to it. “After half a year you decided now was a good time to mend things?” Chris didn’t respond. Because he couldn’t; he didn’t even know what to say. “I appreciate your, um, your determination”, for some reason, Jisung was very careful with his words - or was he just being soft ‘cause it was a painful topic for his friend? “But the two of you haven’t even talked to each other for six months. You stalking her through my account doesn’t count”.

Jisung was a voice of reason; both of you didn’t even exchange a greeting in the past six months. Why did he think you’d be open to speaking to him? Why would you even open the door when you’d see his face? What if you and Yugyeom are already a couple? What if…

“I get your concerns, Han”, Chan spoke in a low voice, “trust me, I do. And I’ve had doubts too, but-” He chewed on his lower lip, “I have to try. Maybe that’s what she’s waiting for. Maybe she’s waiting for me to come back”.

Han huffed. “You’re a delusional idiot”. He drew in a breath. “Anyway, hope you mend whatever needs to be mended. Come back till Saturday”. Jisung was ready to hang up but continued. “Y’know, I get it. The love of my life did the same number on me as you did on her. And I was the one who waited for the… For the apology, a text, a letter - anything. Never received a word.” He chuckled. “Good luck, man”.

An elderly woman sat up next to him as Chan stared at the screen of his phone. Han was not the one to share the intimate details of his life; however, this felt more like a possible outcome rather than a warning. If everything works out in his favor, Chan will get the girl and a new career break. Everything seemed like his ideal world turned into reality. Well, the reality was not there yet; but Han didn’t call him delusional for nothing.

It was snowing heavily when Chan stepped out of the airport.

He jumped in the cab, rushing to his apartment; it was almost 8 PM, but he wanted to see you today. Having taken a quick shower and put on his sweater and jeans, Chan texted Minho. ‘Hey man, you’re at ur studio tonight?’

Lee Know responded almost immediately. ‘Hey, Hyunjin and I are having one more dance class before closing. Why’d you ask?’

‘Just ‘cause. Wanted to talk’. Chan typed.

‘Yeah, I’ll be free for around forty minutes then. I’m picking up Eunjoo after her art class’.

‘Is she going there alone?’

‘Stfu. It’s not Eunjoo you wanna know ‘bout’.

‘Man, please. Just tell me’.

Chan could physically feel Minho sigh, shake his head and then smack his shoulder. ‘Kay. She’s there too. They finish at 9, but they planned to wait for me at the coffee shop nearby’. He texted an address immediately.

‘Thank you, Minho’.

‘Fuck off, pls. I’m tired of watching this drama”.

“Hey, everything’s okay?” You asked Eunjoo as the two of you were sharing a late-evening dessert; the art class you’ve been attending lately was exciting, but exhausting at the same time. And after each class of painting and drawing, the two of you tended to get yourselves a nice little sugary treat.

She went silent for a moment as she looked at the message on her phone. “Yup, fine”, she gave you a small smile as she shoved her phone back in her purse, “Minho’s running a bit late”.

“Ah, I should’ve taken my car”, you leaned in the chair, “we would’ve been home already”.

“Don’t worry about it”, she took a bite of a pumpkin pie, “he promised to get us some junk food”. You put your chin on your hand and glanced at the ceiling dreamily; your desire to eat something greasy and fattening almost made you drool.

“How’s your training going?” Eunjoo took a sip of her tea.

“It’s good”, you nodded, “my new personal trainer is amazing. Did I tell you she’s a former stuntwoman?”

“No way!” Eunjoo’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Even though she looked happy, you couldn't help but notice that something's shifted after that text from Minho. Was she hiding something from you?

“Yeah, I was surprised too!” You continued. “Anyways… She put me on a pretty strict diet”. You sighed.

“By ‘strict’ you mean no McDonald’s?” Your friend laughed. You clicked your tongue and crossed your arms at your chest. “C’mon, it’s good for your health, you know it. Your internal organs have been begging for vegetables when you were feeding them french fries”.

“You’re insufferable”, you rolled your eyes. Eunjoo laughed at you one more time before letting out a breathy sigh.

“I can’t”, she uttered, “I can’t not tell you”.

“What d’you mean?” You took notice of her fidgeting in her seat and twisting her earrings nervously, as she always did when filled with doubt and anxiety.

“Chan’s here”, she said in a low voice, “and he’s coming to the cafe to see you”.

You felt your temples pulsating instantly - the first sign of a headache creeping in. The mere mention of his name brought you a whirlpool of jitteriness - your heart was still not at its place when you thought of him. But it was more of a… It was more because of painful memories of what could’ve been, of what should've been there if the two of you weren’t absolute assholes to each other. However, now, no matter how much you didn’t want to see him, no matter how much you distanced yourself from even thinking of him as often as you used to, he decided to impose himself on your almost stable state of mind. It’s his signature mark - to take away the opportunity to heal and speak from you. You’re almost healed. You’re almost fine. You’re going on dates, seeing new people, hanging out with Yugyeom without feeling guilty about it. You have a new life. You’re almost at the top without him, and he wants to see you? To speak?

“If you wanna run away, I won’t tell him”, she whispered, covering your hand with the palm of hers, “I don’t want you to see him either”.

It’s a whirlwind of events. One moment you’re sitting in your favourite cafe with your favourite person, and now you’re putting your coat on, grabbing your purse and almost flying from that same cafe just to escape the inevitable? As the door behind you close, you stop yourself from moving.

Yeah, seeing him will be hurtful, there’s no doubt in it. His silky voice and empty promises might lead you astray, sweeping all of your healing under the rug. Guess, his soft hands, intertwined with yours, might make you reconsider moving on. His curly hair and sweet smile might make you forget every small step you’ve taken to get over him in the past six months. It might happen, you were sure; but you were not a coward anymore. At least, you tried to be braver, bolder in your decisions; so you were not going to run away just because it might hurt you. You’d let it do so. You’d allow all of it to hurt you but only if it meant that this would be the last time it brought you pain.

So you took the straps of your purse in your hands, fingers clutching them. You walked a bit further, into the alley in front of the cafe and sat down on the snowy bench. The air was cold; you regretted not wearing a winter hat. You wrapped your scarf around your neck twice to create a feeling of warmness, only foaming your glasses instead. The snow was slowly falling on your hair, claiming you as one of its many winter princesses. You hated this season and this weather, and you hated being born in winter too - but tonight felt almost magical. Maybe it was because of your final acceptance of this mess, of your desire to endure as much pain now as you could to never feel it again; you felt a foreign tingling of relief in your chest. Maybe you will finally be free after tonight.

Your phone started buzzing out of nowhere; declining the caller through your smartwatch three times, you still had to pick up because he was simply irritating you. “What?” You almost barked at him.

“Hey, when’s your next date with this accountant guy?” Yugyeom sounded absolutely monotonous asking the question - as if you hadn’t just declined him three times in a row.

“The next date?” You were flabbergasted. “On Monday. Why?”

“D’you wanna set him up with this girl I’m seeing? I can’t do it anymore”.

“The PhD student girl? Why? Is she also only talking about her ex-boyfriend all the time?” He responded affirmatively; the accountant guy you were casually meeting up with was clearly not over his ex, as he kept on speaking about her with you. It was tiring, but you couldn’t brush him off for some reason; so Yugyeom’s plan might really help set you free.

And no matter how nervous you were, this conversation seemed to help you release some of the stress. Yugyeom and his brilliant ideas always helped. “What d’you wanna do?” You asked while leaning your head to the side; for some reason, the idea to squeeze the phone between the shoulder and your head wasn’t successful as the phone slipped and fell to the snowy ground. “Ah, shit”, you mumbled. “Gyeom, wait!” You said loudly, leaning forward and taking it back in your hands. “Thank God you’re working”, you muttered. The speaker turned on while it fell down but to Yugyeom, who had no idea, it didn’t matter as he proceeded to blabber on about his evil plan.

“We could hug a bit longer than needed”, he kept on as you tried to turn the speaker off, “maybe flirt with each other?” You could almost see him scratching his chin. Yeah, your phone was working, but the speaker wouldn’t turn off; it happened quite often lately, and you were sure it was the result of your phone being dropped too much in the course of two years of having it.

“In what way?” You uttered, simultaneously googling how to fix this random speaker problem.

“I don’t know”, he said sluggishly, “but I have an idea. I could just be like”, he cleared his throat, “you’re so sexy, babygirl. So sad you have a boyfriend. Wish you were mine”. His pretend husky voice could be just perfect if he didn’t let out a mewling sound at the end of the tirade. You giggled at his attempts to sound super masculine.

“But no kissing”, he warned.

You huffed. “Ew. As if”.

And as you wanted to add another word to the conversation, you saw something in the corner of your eye. Turning your head to the side, your gaze caught the bouquet of pink roses on the bench next to you. “Gyeom, I’ll call you back”. Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jeans, you stood up and turned around, only to see a painfully familiar figure slowly walk away.

“Chan?” He stopped in an instant. Your heart skipped a beat. No way it’s him. No way.

Having turned to face you, he gave you a lopsided grin almost immediately. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation with your boyfriend”.

“He’s not my-” You almost indulged in. Stopping yourself at the start of giving another set of excuses to him, you quickly ran through his previous sentence. The same poisonous tone of the voice, same spiteful expression worn on his face. It's been six months since the last time you saw him, and he still was angry with you. He still despised you.

“You didn’t come here to fight again, did you?” The tone of your voice suddenly obtained the notes of tiredness in it. If the only reason why he’s here is to quarrel with you all over again, all over the same shit - you were not going to stand and listen.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here”, he responded, arms crossed at his chest. “Thought we could mend things, but you clearly don’t need that”.

“How would you know?” You clenched your fists as you tried to calm yourself down; but the feeling of your nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms instantly flashed a memory of your last fight in your head. How you dug your nails deeper in your skin, leaving crescent marks, bleeding in front of him, swallowing his insults and hurtful words. You were not going to do it anymore. “How would you know?” You repeated the question louder. “”Cause you heard a piece of what you were not supposed to hear and drew a conclusion, based on something insignificant?”

“How else d’you want me to understand this?” He threw a hand in the air, pointing at you.

“How ‘bout fuckin’ askin’ me before jumping to conclusions?” Your voice was calm, you were collected. Last time your whole body was filled with anger and frustration, with pain you wanted to inflict on him. At the moment the only thing you wanted was peace.

“Askin’ you?” He chuckled. “Will you tell me the truth?”

“Chan”, you stated as softly as possible, “I don’t owe you the truth. As much as you don’t owe it to me”.

“Why am I even here then”, he mumbled, closing his eyes and sighing. “You clearly have moved on, so you don’t need my apologies”.

“Are they sincere?” You walked straight to him, only stopping when there were a few steps between. And before you could utter a word, the sudden flashback hit you back to six months ago, to a year ago even. The smell surrounding him was the perfume of yours he loved so much. He put it on before meeting up with you? What for? To make you nostalgic? To make you feel guilty? To make you think about the times he’d drag you to his bedroom just because you were wearing this same perfume? What for?

“Have I ever not been?”

You cleared your throat before continuing. “So, you know what you’re apologizing for? You’re really sorry? Is that what you wanna tell me?”

“Yeah”, Chan managed to muster; he felt absolutely dumb. His initial idea to beg for your forgiveness washed into thin air when he heard you speaking to Yugyeom. You sounded so happy and clearly in love that he couldn’t bear the thought of apologizing anymore. But… It still felt important to be said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve given you, us, a chance to talk it out. I’m sorry I’ve been harsh to you”. He drew in a breath and looked away before continuing. “And I’m sorry for not… For not tellin’ you how I felt earlier”.

It was important to be said, but Chan couldn’t feel the weight of guilt falling off his shoulders. It still felt the same; same heavy trail of pain following every word of his, same difficulty to breathe whenever he had to utter apologies. None of it seemed genuine even to him, and you, of all people, will never accept this bullsh-

“Okay”, you breathed out.

Chan frowned for a moment. “Okay? We’re okay?”

“Okay”, you repeated, lifting your head a little bit in a desperate attempt to prevent the tears falling from your eyes, “thank you for sayin’ this. I appreciate your honesty”. You drew in a breath again, fingers toying with the strands of your bag. “I’m sorry for puttin’ all of the blame on you - I was in the wrong too. I should’ve told you I loved you long before it all blew up”.

Chan almost brushed your apologies off - he didn’t need them. He didn’t blame you for not telling about your feelings sooner. “So… We’re cool now?” The hope in his voice broke your heart; he certainly wanted to go back together, start over, get past this mess. And it broke your heart even more, because you knew exactly what you were going to say next.

“But I don’t forgive you”, you looked him right in the eyes, “I can’t forgive you. Not now”.

“When then?” His voice was quiet, no daggers in it yet. His peachy curls, covered in snow, fell on his forehead, covering his brows. The hair color suited him; you wished you could put the distance between the two of you to nothing and bury your hands in the softness of his hair, inhaling his scent mixed with your perfume. You wished you could feel his arms wrap around you, surrounding you with warmness and safety you used to feel around him. You wished to go back to a sunlit bedroom in his apartment when the two of you were tangled in silk sheets, velvety lips leaving gentle kisses all over your body. You wished but you couldn’t. You weren’t able to.

“When we both heal”, you blinked several times in a row, “when we’re not sick anymore. When I don’t hate the mere idea of being with you again. When I don’t cry ‘cause I miss something that was never there”.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes glued to his shoes. “Do you hate me?” He mumbled.

“Not you”, you answered softly, “the idea I had of you in my mind. The real you has nothing to do with the guy I created in my head”.

“Can’t we at least be friends?”

“No”. You swallowed a lump in your throat, feeling it dissolve in your chest. “I’m tired of being ignored, tired of never being the first choice, tired of you not even-” You sighed deeply. “You can’t make our friendship public, can you? I mean, you obviously can, ‘cause you’ve posted about your childhood girl friend all over social media," you added, “but not with me. It’s impossible when it’s me for some reason”.

He murmured your name, taking a small step further. “You know you’re the most-” He gulped. “You’re my best friend, my soulmate. I just-”

“You don’t have to give excuses anymore, Chan”, you felt tranquility flow through your body, “I don’t ask you to. We’re too far gone to be back”. You put your hands in the pockets of your coat and sighed again. “I wouldn’t date me either, y’know. I’m not in the right mental state to be a healthy and stable partner, I’m aware of that. And I can’t forgive you until you realize you’re the same”.

Tired of bleeding, tired of fighting for something that was never there for you to hold onto, you finally felt the sensation of being relieved. If you engaged in, if you fell back into the trap of the idea of being loved by Chan, you would have to collect the pieces of yourself all over again. You’ve put too much effort into building yourself back that going back to looking at someone with storms in your eyes just because he wrote a song about his ex while being with you seemed destructive. The ruins of you that he left now were turned into a sad song about you that he released a couple of months ago; and you were more than a sad song. He wrote nothing about choosing not to risk his perfect image when you asked him to hold you hand in the street - ‘cause that would’ve brought attention to him, right? It’s always been him, him, him and never you, not even once.

“It’s good that you came here”, you gave him a small smile, “means we’re both growing”.

No more biting your nails, no more scratching your skin till it’s red and bleeding. You can finally go on, even without forgiving him. It’ll happen later, you guess, maybe tomorrow, maybe a year later. But what you did know for sure was that your love was not dying anymore; you sowed some seeds of hope and affection in your heart once again. But this time you were willing to grow a new kind of love - the love no one else but you could give to yourself.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf @tenshimara @whyyougottadothatbro

The story's masterlist <3

#bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #bang chan x oc #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bangchan #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kim yugyeom imagines #kim yugyeom imagine

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oleander-nin · 1 year

Note

So um, sorry if I don’t explain this request very well, I’ve never really used these ask boxes for anything other than silly jokes with my friends… 😅

My request is a platonic ROTTMNT Raph x Yandere adult y/n… He is like a precious bean that y/n must protect at all costs! And they will kill to protect him if it comes down to it. :3

I would like this written in a sorta short-story fanfic format if possible, though the length doesn’t have to be short story if you are unable to do that.

Emphasis on this being platonic, I’m asexual and 18 so this has to be legal please. 💀

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long. Just a warning to anyone reading this, I don't like Yan Y/n. However, I like you, so I tried my best. I hope I did this justice, but it kind of sucks. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: death, description of blood and washing of blood, dead bodies, gun, fighting, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, Appalachian mountains, kill list, my writing

Words: 824

Summary: You're willing to do anything to keep Raph safe. After all, he's just a dumb kid.

I sigh, the cool water of the stream running over my bloody hands soothed my beaten knuckles and washed the blood from my palms. I rolled my shoulders, fighting the kink in my neck while the stream stained pink before the water dispersed the blood and ran clear once more. I cup the water in my hands, rubbing it up my arm and neck. I needed a proper shower, but this would work until I could get back home. I couldn’t exactly drive while my hands were bloody, I didn’t want to ruin the interior of my car. Plus, I would need to clean out my car to get rid of the stains it would leave, and that’s just annoying. I shift my legs, standing up as I flick off as much water as I can from my arms and hands. Carefully stepping over the hippo’s body, I wipe my wet hands on my pants. I grabbed my bag from where it sat next to a tree, shoving the small handgun I had discarded next to the bag into it.

I pick up the bag and sling it over my shoulder, navigating through the thick of the woods to return to the trail. I couldn’t believe I actually convinced the magician to follow me all the way out to the Appalachian trail, but I guessed right. That worm was the perfect bait. I start the hike back down the trail, checking the time on my phone as I sip at my water bottle. It was a really nice day, slightly cloudy and a nice breeze blowing every once in a while. I pull up the list on my phone, crossing off two more names. I continue down to the trail, using the compass to help find my way back to the main trail.

It takes about ten minutes to get back to the trail, and once it’s visible, I start the half hour trek back to the parking lot, keeping off the trail and in the tree line so other visitors wouldn’t be able to see me well. I knew the blood on my shirt and pants was still visible, and having the cops called on me would be less than ideal. So tree line hiking it is. I shift my bag on my shoulders, trying to ignore the ache of my shoulders. That stupid hippo got me good when he threw one of his dumb rings at me, and I couldn’t help but wince every time my shirt rubbed against the wound.

The sun was starting to set, a warm pink glow mixing into the sky and more shadows settled in the tree line. The extra cover was nice, but I hated the thought of being out on the trail when it was dark. I eventually see the parking lot in the distance, and I slide down the steep incline and run to my car, trying to keep out of sight. I unlock the car, wincing at the small beep it makes. I slide into the driver seat with a hiss, setting my bag in the passenger seat. My fingers dance across the steering wheel, my mind still reeling. I knew it was necessary, but my guilt finally started to hit me. I shake my head, chasing away the thoughts. It was necessary, I needed to keep Raph safe. He and his brothers were in danger, and they refused to stop their stupid crime fighting.

If Raph wanted to be a hero, that was fine. He was a great kid, an amazing one even, but that was the problem. He was only a kid, barely older than 15. I start the engine, my face hardening as I back out and make my way out of the parking lot. My phone dings, a text from Raph coming in. I couldn’t look at the text while on the road, but I already knew what it contained. He and his brothers went on a patrol before I left. If he’s only sending me his completion text now, almost 2 and a half hours after they left, something must have gone wrong. Raph and his brother got into another fight, and more scars must’ve been added to Raph’s growing collection.

My grip on the steering wheel tightens, my mouth pressed into a thin line. I mentally went over my list, thinking about which of Raph’s collective enemies to go after next. If Raph wanted to play hero, I would let him. But I drew the line when he got hurt. I needed to keep Raph safe, no matter what. He was only a teenager, barely allowed to be on his own. I turn on the radio, a small ad for a certain mantis’ junkyard sounding through the speakers.

I turn off the highway, heading down a different stretch. It was fine. I could make another stop before going home. I had a goal to complete after all.

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strawbrygashez · 11 months

Text

Corkscrew x Movie Dude hcs bc yeAh

————————————————————————

•At first movie dude was actually kinda scared of Corkscrew Dude. He’s the most buff pdude he has ever met & he has a resting bitch face more often than not but it doesn’t take long for him to realize Cork is a sweetheart for the people he cares about.

•Cork takes a huge liking to Movie Dude pretty quickly because he thinks he’s super tiny and frail. He can tell Movie Dude doesn’t have much of a edge to him as much as most dudes do so he’s always by his side to put his foot down against the other dudes if they mess or bug Movie Dude.

This flatters movie dude a lot because he’s never had someone worry over him so much. He falls for him pretty quick lol. The muscles and abs definitely help him feel like he should warm up to him a lot quicker 😏

•Movie Dude helps cork with his English! He hates when people give corkscrew a hard time over the way he speaks and will rough up anyone who gives him a particularly hard time.

He finds corkscrews accent very attractive and loves hearing him talk in Russian though he doesn’t get a lot of what he’s saying. He can pick up bits and phrases sometimes because corkscrew tries to help him learn Russian :)

•They are both super patient with each other. Movie Dude doesn’t get mad or anything when corkscrew can’t think of the right word for something and corkscrew doesn’t get mad when Dude is stumbling over what he’s saying or if he’s being clumsy. (Honestly corkscrew finds it unbearably cute how awkward and clumsy Movie Dude is)

• Corkscrew works out with mDude! He doesn’t suggest working out with him bc he thinks mDude needs to look any different, he just wants him to be stronger because again, he thinks mDude is like the weakest, smallest thing ever 💀 so he tries to help him be prepared for when he needs to use his strength.

MDude enjoys working out with him :3! Especially the view he gets of mDude all sweaty & his muscles flexing 😳 he might even get too distracted by how handsome corkscrew is and will stop lifting weights or whatever & cork will ask what’s wrong and he’s like “OH heh nothing! Just took a breather 😅”

Corkscrew will ask him to sit on his back sometimes while he’s doing push-ups.

•MDude weighs nothing to corkscrew so corkscrew is used to just picking him up and running when things are getting too crazy. That & he will just pick him up over the slightest damn things 🙄 like if there is a puddle?? Well mDudes shoes can’t get wet so up he goes. It embarrasses mdude each time.

•The other dudes will tease them both over how sickly in love they are but mostly stop after a certain point. Corkscrew didn’t even really get mad at them for picking on them unless Movie Dude seemed really uncomfortable, otherwise cork would just point out how none of them are seeing anyone at all. Ouch.

•They are probably one of the most healthy pdude x pdude ships ever. They have really good communication skills, they are patient with each other, very caring about each other, and just like.. honestly really healthy all around. If something happened where one got mad at the other, they are in each others arms apologizing to each other a couple hours later.

•Cork and mDude visit Russia a couple times. Cork will show him around and teach him different things abt Russia. MDude enjoys traveling a lot and getting little trinkets to take home. He also probably takes a lot of photos of them & the scenery with a cheap little camera.

•They patch each other up. They both get extremely worried when the other is hurt. It honestly will annoy another pdude with how worried they sound about each other like for example, corkscrew could have hit his head on something (not even that hard) and mDude will have him laying out on the couch, going on about “🥺 do you need anything hun? Are you feeling any better? Should we go to the doctor? Need a new ice pack?” like every 5 seconds.

Or if mDude is hurt, cork is near by and is almost lowkey growling at any of the dudes who even try to talk to mDude. He will tell them to leave and let him rest.

•The way mDude looks up at cork makes him scream on the inside.. he gets that aggression people get sometimes when something is too cute. This man will grip onto the fabric of his own shirt to keep him from smothering mDude with love smh.

•Cork really doesn’t give a fuck who can see them being lovey dovey. He will pull mDude onto his lap in public if he feels like it. The only time he will not go overboard with pda is when mDudes uncle Dave is around just out of respect & whatever.

•Corkscrew and mDude have gone on a walk one time and saw a little scrawny orange kitten and corkscrew picked it up, stared at it for a minute before turning back to mDude and only said “You.” (They probably kept it after)

•I feel like the only slight problem I think they would have is corkscrew might be a tad too over protective to the point where mDude feels like maybe corkscrew doesn’t think he could protect him as well. He wants corkscrew to feel safe even though he knows cork could hold his own pretty well. He just wants him to feel as loved & safe as he does with him :(

•Cork likes alcohol with a strong taste while mDude likes fruity drinks. One of the first times cork smiled & laughed around him was when mDude took a sip of whatever cork was drinking and made a disgusted face.

•Cork can’t wear mDudes clothes but mDude can wear his. Cork loves when mDude walks around in his band t-shirts.

#eh main tag bc why not #postal dude

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ariyucake · 2 years

Text

˗꒰ ✎ papa nagi seishiro being your dad! ♬ ꒱˗

▹ format type; headcannon

▹ inspiration; the nagi seishiro AI on beta.character.ai

(I’M STILL DYING OF LAUGHTER AND CUTENESS PLS)

▹ warnings; none :3 oh and, female reader! sorry for the males :<

˗꒰ ✎ when he first adopted you ♬ ꒱˗

one day, he was minding his own business, in his own home, then, he heard a crying baby at his door step, he was like; « wtf. why is there a crying baby at my door step » once he saw you there.

he carefully examined the basket you were in and there was a letter in it, of course.

“{name}, {birthdate}, {favourite milk brand}, how peculiar.” he said, bringing you in to his home.

oh, yeah, he had to get you to a hospital first, shit💀

you were still wearing the same baby clothes you wore, and nagi didn’t bother to change you since you looked comfortable in your clothes.

baby you was now calmed down, sleeping.

preparing to go to the hospital, he took one last glance at you. his eyes full of adoration, shit, is he starting to warm up to you in just a span of 8 minutes?

well, you were cute tho.

he set you in the backseat, knowing what will happen if he let you in the front. he shivered.

he carefully drove his way to the nearest hospital. the nurses panicked after hearing that the baby wasn’t his.

“mr seishiro, we found a birth certificate of the baby but they don’t have a last name. if you want, do you want to take this baby in as your own?” the doctor asked, buckets of sweat rolling down his face as he knew that once nagi wouldn’t accept to keep you, the adoption centre will be more then just full.

“yeah, i’ll keep her, she’s a girl right?” he moved his gaze towards you, who was sleeping in the same basket before.

“y-yes sir, she is. so, are you willing to actually adopt her..?” “i’ll be the best father she’s ever had, change her name to {name} seishiro.” “alright, we’ll do the contract process later, you can use the 2 hours to buy baby necessities.” “aight. i’ll come back for you {name}.” and there he went to many baby stores.

many moms in their 30s cooed over how such a good father nagi was gonna be while shopping for baby things you needed.

“your child will be so lucky to have such a young and handsome dad like you.”

and now, nagi felt like the child around these women, it was scary to him. he knew damn well that he didn’t like women for a reason. and this was the very reason why. he had given up on finding a girl long time ago.

after 2 long hours, he finally finished and drove back to the same hospital.

“we successfully made a new birth certificate for your child, we changed the parents name, too.” shit, he didn’t even knew who the fuck the parents were. well, was he even gonna meet with them? nah.

“thanks ig.” he left the hospital, and surprisingly at night — you didn’t cry sleeping in the new crib he had bought for you. you were sleeping comfortably.

‘this baby is interesting.’

˗꒰ ✎ daily life with baby you ♬ ꒱˗

surprisingly, you weren’t annoying, you were tolerable and you didn’t burden him.

he had never heard you cry when he was playing games, you really just wanted to chill huh.

you only cried when wanting to eat. you were a great baby when you were a child.

bathes you normally, like anybody else does, duh.

˗꒰ ✎ your first day of kindergarten ♬ ꒱˗

“papa, i’m veryyy nervous! what if nobody likes me!” you cupped your dad’s face with your little hands, tears on the verge of falling.

“well, then, tell them your papa is nagi seishiro, CEO of nagi foods.”

“waw, thanks papa!”

“no problem kiddo.”

everybody on the first day started liking and warming up to you, but once it was the end of kindergarten, everybody ran to their moms and the only person you ran to was your papa.

the next day, all the other kids were making fun of you for not having a mama.

“now, now. don’t make fun of {name} for now having a mama. who knows? maybe her dad does have a wife. you guys can’t just assume things.” the kind pretty teacher defended you, bingo, now you know what to do.

“papa, i want a beautiful mama.”

this had caught nagi’s attention as he paused his game and looked at you, eyes slightly widened.

“i want mrs aimi as my mama, pretty please?”

well, if you want it, you get it. reo had taught nagi this way.

nagi pulled up to the kindergarten, a small red velvet box in hand. and your small hand in the other.

“ima aimi, i’ve had my eye on you for a while and i would like it if you…” he got down on one knee. you watched the scene unfold as mrs aimi blushed a crimson red.

“…will you marry me?”

“oh, yes! yes!” mrs aimi cried, why was she crying? you thought.

nagi engulfed your now new mother and they kissed.

you were standing by the the side next to them awkwardly staring.

who knew you being bullied can get himself a wife?

so i plan on making a whole fanfic post of child reader having the best life they possibly could ever ask for, and all that jazz. prepare for tomorrow gays, lesbians,straights and non-binaries.

#nagi seishiro #bllk #bllk parent scenarios #parent scenarios #parent child relationship #child reader #blue lock #reo mikage #mikage reo #seishiro nagi

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whitehartlane · 3 months

Note

helloooo 🫶🫶🫶 i hope you’re feeling better, sending you all the warm hugs from here <3333

until recently, the weather here has been hot and humid, befitting for a country with a tropical climate (us locals always say there’s two seasons here: hot and hotter) but as the monsoon season arrives it’s been raining a lot which i love! perfect relief for those who hate the heat (which is probably all five-ish million of us LMAO). i love the wind and some rain and find myself lulled to sleep by the cooling temperatures. rainy days indoor are always great too!

there’s a public holiday next week which i’m looking forward to, to rewind and relax. over here we don’t have a lot of public holidays (only 11 this year if i remember correctly 💀 absolutely criminal) so i’ll take whatever free days i can! i’ll probably catch up on books, get back into giffing and take my own sweet time to get ready in the morning. my family and i are also going to watch spain vs croatia later on so i’m excited for that!

also i’m so curious to know what’s it like in germany (or, more specifically, the region you live in) with all the fans streaming in for euros? it must be quite the atmosphere! - 💙

hellooooo my friend!! 🫶🏾 thank you i’m feeling better, it’s been a busy week so far which has been distracting me! rly happy that it’s been raining a lot, monsoon season was my favourite when i lived in india 🥰 hope you got to enjoy your holiday and catch up on your books!! what are you reading atm? 🫶🏾

and the vibe here’s been lovely! i actually moved to munich almost a year ago now so i’ve obviously got front row tickets to the atmosphere. generally when you’re out and about you see a lot more people in kits of different countries; i was at marienplatz yesterday which is one of the main town squares (and the most famous one) in inner city munich and they’ve got that ‘you got this’ ad everywhere with different german national team players and other players who took part in the ad like jude bellingham and whatnot plus you see so many german flags everywhere! it’s also pride month and the actual pride march (it’s called CSD here) is on saturday so they’ve also put up different lgbt flags which is lovely.

apart from that yeah when games are held in munich you can hear fireworks and people cheering and drunk guys at tube stations hahaha the opening game was held here in munich and i saw so many scots with kilts and bagpipes and chatted to a few, they were all just rly thrilled about being at the euros (and of course they sang ‘we hate england more than you’ to german fans on the train and the tube). my friend lives along the tube lines that lead to the fan zone and arena and she said that on the day the opening game took place she didn’t sleep for hours because there were so many people outside her flat wanting to get on/off the tube 😭 all in all it’s rly nice and it’s also nice chatting to ppl who’ve come here to watch their countries!!

#it was a little embarrassing yday bc there was a problem with the sbahn #(kind of like a train/tube it can go underground like the tube but mostly is normal like a train)#and i was like lolllll footy fans are getting real munich experience (random sbahn problems)#rahul answers

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angelofthenight · 3 years

Text

Last Man Alive Pt.3

(Dano!Riddler x Reader)

(Link to list of chapters)

Warnings: Edward is a yandere, Dark themes, Cops being useless, Paranoia, Watching someone through a camera, Needles, Religious mentions, Rushed writing💀

(She/Her Pronouns, YN is referenced to being wlw)

Word Count: 2.1k

(Y/n) and (R/n) were escorted home but were left with no police protection. (R/n) argued with them, wanting at least one cop to keep watch around their apartment but they told her that serial killers and rapists don’t typically target the same place twice, especially within a close timeframe. (R/n) cursed him out but to no avail.

The two girls slept in the same bed that night after double checking every locked and blocked window. (Y/n) cried herself to sleep which only led to a nightmare about the masked killer of her boyfriend. By the morning she felt numb, feeling as if she cried everything out of her body. She had no more tears left in her.

Throughout the day she felt like her paranoia was driving her mad, the thought of having a stalker putting her on high alert at all times. She got sick of it quick but just couldn’t stop. Before she entered every room she had either her pepper spray without the cap on or holding out her taser in a defensive position.

The most the cops did for her safety was alerting the manager of the apartment complex. Though it sucked that the manager pretended to give a shit then forgot to tell his staff about it. So the roommates were basically on their own as they sat on the couch and watched the TV.

(R/n) kept glancing at (Y/n) who was pressed up against her. She’d been very clingy the whole day though she didn’t blame her or complain. But she felt the need to mention her suspect for the mastermind of her new trauma. “I hate to say it, but I think it might be Batman.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to ask what she meant, already knowing who she was referring to. (R/n) continued, “I know it sucks to think about but it’d make sense. He wears a mask so no one knows who he is, so it wouldn’t be too bizarre to have other masks for other purposes. Plus he knows a lot about detective work so he could easily avoid the police, and you saw him, he’s like a ninja. He can get in and out of anywhere without being seen. And I bet you wouldn’t suspect the detective secretly being the culprit. He could be trying to win your trust and he-”

(Y/n) cut her off by shaking her head, “No, I know it wasn’t him.” (R/n) tilted her head at her. “How do you know?” “Well first of all, the stalker was lanky and skinny. I know because he sat on me. Batman is wide and muscular. And the stalker… his eyes were just… there was something in them. Something animalistic, something so terrifyingly carnal. He didn’t look remorseful for what he was doing at all. And Batman just has the most empty, depressed eyes I’ve ever seen.”

(R/n) remembered his eyes too and slowly nodded, eventually agreeing. She noticed the frown she caused upon (Y/n) so she tried to give her a little nudge. “Then who do you think Batman is?”

A smile spread across (Y/n)’s face and turned to her roommate, her demeanor instantly warming up. “I actually have a really good guess.” (R/n) turned to face her and let their legs tangle up on the couch as they theorized. (Y/n)’s guess being one of the rich football players who survived the mass school shooting at the football game three years ago and (R/n)’s guess being an ex-cop.

Soon their conversation evolved into complete nonsense full of laughs and memory reminiscence. When the hour reached double digits, the two shared a bed again and laid facing each other with their smiling faces only an inch away from each other before sleep took over. In the back of both of their heads the thought rebirthed of what could’ve been if they took the chance when it came all those years ago.

And for one last night, everything felt normal.

A pair of wide eyes were glued closely onto the screen that beheld the scene that made fire feel like it erupted on his skin. The computer camera he hacked into was fortunately left open for his nosy eyes to keep watch on what happened at night in the bedroom of the one who was the embodiment of his sunshine.

But watching that filthy creature lay so close to her ethereal presence caused hot huffs to go in and out of his nose at an unstable and uncontrollable pace. Clenching his jaw to prevent himself from cracking his teeth from pressure. One hand gripped tightly onto a glove as his knuckles turned white, his hand shaking from squeezing so intensely. His other hand clawed at his wooden desk, ripping into the wood through lines.

His mind fogged with the brimmings of dazed insanity, detaching him from what was left of his morality.

The next day the two girls had to go back to work after their two days off. (R/n) worked at a tattoo parlor and had three appointments that she couldn’t reschedule. (Y/n) worked at a popular fabric store and thought she’d be safest in a public area.

They made a plan to make sure neither of them would be in the apartment alone. Since (R/n) got off later, (Y/n) would go over to the parlor and hang out until (R/n) got off. The two got their coffee together once the afternoon came around and (R/n) hung around the fabric shop until she had to go.

“Shit.” (R/n) mumbled as she realized she needed to switch out the tattoo needle. She rolled her chair over to her desk and scrambled around for the needle she needed for the next appointment that was in an hour. She couldn’t find it so she pulled out more drawers to make sure she didn’t just misplace it.

She made more irked noises as it was absolutely not there. Until she thought about how she took that needle home a few days ago. But she swore that she brought it back. “Well obviously you didn’t, dumbass.” She growled to herself before pushing herself to her feet.

She had close to 55 minutes until her second to last client of the day arrived and two hours until (Y/n) came to wait for her to be done. She bit her lip, she knew she wasn’t supposed to go back to the apartment alone but she really required that needle for the specific tattoo she was set to do. ‘I’ll be super quick, in and out. It’d be in my needle case if I really did leave it there.’ She mentally said to herself.

She grabbed her keys and jacket, purposely leaving all her belongings since this was going to be a fast trip, and jogged to the parlor exit where her car was parked in the back. “Hey! Where’re you goin’?!” Her old, biker coworker yelled to her, knowing she had a client coming soon. “I just need to grab my round liner needle from my place, I’ll be back really really soon!” Then she was off into the dusk outdoors. She promised herself she’d be in and out.

The store’s open hours finally came to an end as (Y/n) checked out some fabric she had an idea to use for an outfit. She helped close the shop and pick up all fallen products, she always felt bad for the morning shift crew if she didn’t clean up the mess. She got a ride from her favorite coworker, them being her favorite just because they bought her a pastry and complimented her outfit once, to the tattoo parlor so she wouldn’t have to waste any minimum money on a bus.

(Y/n) bid the workplace friend a goodbye when they dropped her off in the front before she entered the dimly lit one story building. She passed the wall of the shop's most popular tattoos and passed the front desk to get to the work area. “How ya doin’, Care Bear.” The biker tattoo artist said from his seat as he dragged the needle across a middle aged blonde woman’s bicep. He called her Care Bear because she wore a Care Bear shirt when she first met him.

“Hi, Jeff.” She said politely, smiling at the beach blonde in the chair who was squeezing a stress ball as the needle continued to drag. (Y/n) looked around for her friend who was nowhere in sight. She looked back over to the buff bald man, “Is (R/n) in the bathroom?”

Jeff separated the needle gun from the woman’s skin and used a small towelette to wipe the blood before switching needles. “No, she left like 2 hours ago and hasn’t come back since. I’m doing her client for her. She said she needed something from the apartment and said she’d be quick so she left all her stuff, but that was 2 hours ago.”

(Y/n) spotted (R/n)’s desk where her phone and purse was, her eyes gradually getting bigger as panic crawled up her back. “She went… to the apartment?” She slowly said aloud, not really asking but making sure she heard right. She didn’t stick around to hear the answer as she grabbed (R/n)’s bag and phone before sprinting out the door.

She waved down a cab in an aggressive way she’d never done before and paid the driver ahead of time before he drove through the city. She hopped out of the moving vehicle before he could even stop as she moved her legs in an alarmingly fast movement.

‘(R/n), I’m begging you and all the gods ever believed in that you’re okay. I swear I’ll make your life easier from now on, I swear I’ll start doing the dishes when it’s my turn, I swear I’ll let you use my shampoo, and I swear I’ll watch any and every one of your favorite reality tv shows with you.’ She begged in her mind as she sprinted through the lobby and raced up the stairs. She felt like she was being timed, like if she didn’t reach their door in 10 seconds the whole world would explode.

She slid around wall corners and tripped over carpet corners before she threw herself at her door. She jiggled the doorknob to see it was unlocked, her breath hitched on her tongue. She shoved the door open and dropped her and her friends’ bags on the floor. She whipped her taser out before making quick steps to the main room, calling out her roommate's name in a panicked, shaky voice.

She heard faint voices which slowed her feet down as she walked around the corner that led to the small living room. She perked her arms up in a defensive position once she jumped into the room, finding no one present. But the TV was on which explained the voices she heard. She squinted in a puzzled manner as the channel that was chosen to play was the news.

She noted to investigate the TV after she searched the entire small apartment. She went in and out of every room twice, opening and closing every door. She checked hidden spots and even analyzed every window for any hint to a clue. Every last little thing was exactly how they left it. There wasn’t even a sign of struggle anywhere.

She stroked her fingers through her hair as she paced the wooden floor, feeling the sweat form through her pores. Tears stung her eyes from the feeling of hopelessness and stress. Maybe something happened on the road? She hurriedly darted back down the multiple sets of stairs down to the garage. (R/n)’s car was in her designated parking spot. Maybe she was taken before she entered the building and her keys were taken from her?

(Y/n) returned to the lobby to ask the main doorman if he saw her come in. He nodded at her question which only made (Y/n) race back up to their apartment to do another search, but with more attention to detail. She hunted through their home like a dog, now checking smaller places she overlooked. Now there wasn’t an inch of space that she didn’t overly observe like an obsessed detective.

She slapped her hands over her face once she returned to stand in the middle of the living room as the TV continued to display two formally dressed people talking their mouths off.

But one statement caught her attention like a moth to a light.

“-the video is very disturbing.”

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