#very few stories make me think to myself why do i even try writing when such good stories exist yknow HAHA

[trashsketch]

I just finished reading The Giver by Lois Lowry!

[britneyshakespeare]

I don’t think he ever read any of my poems now that I think about it

[amethystwrytes]

Of Course, Professor

Pairing: Law Professor!Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in so I don’t just keyboard smash sex stuff on the page and feel bad about myself. 18+.

Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work.

Warnings: There is explicit language. There is explicit sex (oral, penetration, teasing, edging, cumshot). There is a Professor/Student relationship, and IRL I do think that’s super inappropriate BUT this isn’t real life and I promise everything is very consensual, there’s no like “give me sex and you’ll get an A” kinda stuff, so, it’s all very much in my own personal scope of comfort. I wouldn’t write anything I felt was yucky. If any of that rubs you the wrong way though, that’s totally fine, and this one isn’t for you which is completely okay.

A/N: So, once upon a time in my undergrad years I was determined to be a lawyer. For a solid academic year I changed my major to Paralegal Studies because I figured that would be a perfect foundation for law school (smart, right?). Except like, three months in I was miserable and hated everything about it and realized that it absolutely couldn’t be me. I ended up having a similar discussion with my academic advisor/professor - except I didn’t end up fucking them - not that professor anyway (kidding). I always wanted to write a story about that awful year, and now I have - kinda…sort of. With a twist of delicious Lee Know and forbidden love. Yum. 

“Can you stop please?” 

You look at the girl sitting next to you in class. Her name completely escapes you but her eyes are burning lasers at the pen you’ve been clicking nervously in your hands. 

“...Sorry…” 

You apologize and gently set the pen down on your desk. Professor Lee is taking his sweet time passing back the most recent term papers and you dig your nails into your palm in anticipation of your grade. 

To say you’re struggling in his Civil Procedures course is an understatement. In fact, you don’t seem to be doing well in any of the classes you’re taking this semester. The voices of your parents condescendingly telling you “Law School isn’t for everyone and that’s okay,” sound like they’re playing on repeat in an echo chamber. 

If you bomb this paper you’re out. You stayed up almost all night last night going over the pros and cons of dropping out. You went back and forth so long fighting with yourself that you fell asleep thinking about it, and when you woke up the only thing you could think of was letting the universe give you a sign. 

You had worked on your term paper for weeks, carefully piecing it together, you spent so much time in the library that you now know the TA who works at the help desk on a first name basis. So if you flunk it, there’s your magical sign.

“Ms. ___,” Professor Lee sets your paper face down on the desk - bad sign. He leans down just a tad, “Why don’t we meet in my office after class?” - even worse. 

“Yes, Professor,” you nod. You think about not even flipping the stapled monstrosity over, but curiosity gets the better of you. 

There it is, a painful 55% staring back at you in thick, blood-red marker. You spare yourself the trouble of pouring over the thinner red notes made in the margins of every page. You can’t help the tears of frustration that pool in your eyes. 

“Everyone enjoy your break and the time spent with your families, when we return we’ll begin our discussions on Summary Judgement, so please make sure you complete the reading outlined in the syllabus before we see each other again. Dismissed,” Mr. Lee nods and the ruckus of chairs against linoleum and exasperation fill the room. 

Mr. Lee’s office is four floors above the classroom, so you have a few minutes to spare - which you spend in the restroom crying, drying your eyes, then crying again. 

You’re dropping out of Law School. All that work, all that trying, all those late nights - and don’t even start on the amount of money spent on coffee and tuition and fucking textbooks and…you start sobbing again. 

“How did you do?” Seungmin asks when you emerge from the ladies room, his face immediately contorts into a painful frown at your red, puffy face, “That bad huh?” 

“I can’t really talk Seungmin,” you take a deep breath, “I’ve got to go meet Lee in his office before his next class begins.” 

“Fuck,” Seungmin frowns even more, “That man scares the shit out of me.” 

“Thanks,” you say, “That’s helpful.” 

“Sorry. We’re all heading to the Coffee House before everyone starts driving home for the break, do you want to come? After your meeting of course,” he asks. 

“Not today,” you shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

He gives you a sympathetic look and your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

You stand outside Professor Lees office for a few moments, gathering yourself. Professor Lee makes everyone nervous. He’s a hard instructor, emotionless sometimes, so direct it’s painful, and it doesn’t help anyone that he’s also devastatingly attractive. He’s a giant walking slab of intimidation. 

You softly knock on the door and he looks up at you from over his glasses as he types something. 

“Ah, Ms. ___, there you are. Come, sit down,” he instructs and you slide through the doorframe and slouch in an old green armchair across from his desk. 

“Just give me one second,” he says slowly as he continues typing, “alright.” 

“I’m sorry sir, for the term paper, I should have done better,” you offer up, electing to go ahead and fall on your own sword.

“There’s no need for apologies Ms. ___, a waste of time in this kind of situation. I would like to speak to you about your grades this semester though. After I graded your term paper, I reached out to some of my colleagues - some of your other professors - and they all had similar reports to give me, can we talk about that?”

You sigh, fanning out your fingers over your thighs, “Please, Professor, you mentioned a moment ago about time wasters - and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time - I’ve decided to drop out of law school.” 

The defeat you feel just saying the words out loud to someone is enough to bring tears back, but you fight them off. You will not cry in Professor Lee Minhos office. Absolutely not. 

Professor Lee purses his lips and nods, “I think that’s probably for the best.” 

Your jaw drops, “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do the opposite? To try harder or something?” 

“Miss ___, I fear if you tried any harder your hair might burn out from the roots,” he smiles and if you weren’t so shocked, you’d laugh at the first joke you’ve ever heard him utter. 

Before you can think of something to say, he produces a file folder from his drawers and smacks it on the table making you jump. 

“These are all the papers you’ve written for my class so far this semester. Your papers intrigue me Miss ___.” 

Intrigue? That’s a funny word to use for ‘disgusted and disappointed beyond imagination.’ 

“But you-,” you begin to point out that the highest grade he’s ever given you on a paper was a 68%. Far from intriguing. 

“But…as legal writing? They’re all absolute trash,” he tells you. “What intrigues me about them is the way you write, it’s quite good, every time I read one I feel like I’m in the room with a friend who’s trying to sort of explain law to me, the problem is you just don’t think, rationalize, or talk like a lawyer. I noticed in your transcript that your undergraduate degree was in education, and you had a 4.0 GPA. I can’t help but wonder, Miss ___, what career are you looking for?” 

“A…a lawyer,” you say in a quiet voice, staring at a knick on his desk. 

He looks skeptical as he leans back in his chair, “Why?” 

“Because…” oh fuck it all, you may as well just say it, “because my father, my mother, and my older brother are all lawyers, who went here.” 

“I see, so one could deduce that you wanted to be a lawyer because they wanted you to be one, they expected it of you?” he concludes. 

You smile comically, the truth is much more pathetic. 

“No, actually, they all told me I couldn’t do it. They told me I wasn’t smart enough, sharp enough, bold enough. I wanted to teach art to school children, but when that’s exactly what I elected to study, their comments started. I was just a private joke between the three of them, and I hated it, so I wanted to show them that I could be a lawyer.” 

“You came here to study law out of stubborn spite?” he reiterates. 

“Yes sir, I did,” you look at your lap and play with a rogue string from your sweater cuff. 

“That’s quite impressive, Miss ___, to go through all that trouble, strife, and money to do something you have no interest in just to best your family.” 

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a psycho,” you laugh timidly, trying to keep the sludge of humiliation down. 

“I don’t think you’re a psycho, I think you’re a bright woman who wanted to show her family they were wrong, but just ended up making herself miserable,” his expression is soft, almost understanding. “However, as your professor, I don’t think I could recommend continuing with law school. This is your first year, with first year level studies, and you’re struggling this much all for something you don’t even want, it will only get more difficult from here.” 

You nod, “You’re probably right sir,” you stand, “I should get to the admin office before they close for the break, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you give him a respectful smile and grab your bag.

“Miss ___,” he motions for you to sit back down, “First of all, you’ve not wasted a single second of my time. Second, I don’t recommend dropping out right now, I think you should finish this semester at least.” 

“You just said…”

“I said I don’t think you should continue with law school, and I don’t. However, we’re past the official mid-point of the semester, the cut off to withdraw for a full refund of tuition was last week, if you go now you’ll never get that money back.” 

You plop back down in the chair, even more defeated, “I didn’t realize that,” you drag your hands down your face in frustration, “shit.”

Professor Lee chuckles, “I do have an alternative plan for you, if you’re willing to hear it and put in the work,” he offers. 

You sit up straight, “Yes, of course sir.” 

“I suggest you finish this semester, and I will help you - starting with rewriting your latest term paper. I’ll even try to assist you with some of your other courses, if you’d like. If we work diligently enough, you can finish this semester with an acceptable GPA, that keeps your academic record away from probation or academic expulsion,” he explains. 

“You would do that?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Well, of course, I am a professor after all. What sort would I be if I wasn’t willing to help my students?” 

“I don’t know what to say Professor,” you smile, “that’s too generous.” 

“It’s not a problem Miss ___. Now, let’s talk strategy, I assume you don’t plan on spending break with your family?” he guesses. 

“No sir, they’re too busy anyway, I plan on staying in my apartment off campus during the break,” you answer. 

“Splendid. This evening I have a night class to teach, but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The library will be closed for break, but my students enjoy meeting up together at that coffee place downtown, uh, Coffee Shack or something,” he struggles. 

“The Coffee House?” you help him and try to hold back a grin.

“Yes, would you like to meet there, say, 1PM tomorrow afternoon? We can go over some of your papers together and I’ll help you with your legal writing technique,” he asks. 

“Yes, I’ll be there sir, I really can’t thank you enough, truly I appreciate this,” you tell him. 

“I look forward to it, Miss ___.” 

📖 ❤️

You adjust your backpack as you walk towards the Coffee House doors. You packed your laptop, all your text books, notes, and a few other things because you weren’t sure what Professor Lee would want to cover. The weight of it all is dragging you down and you have to hunch over a bit to balance it. 

“My goodness, here, let me get that for you Miss ___,” Professor Lee greets you at the door, he seems to have already picked a table near the front and grabs your bag with a grunt. “Did you pack your entire house?” he teases. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want me to bring, so I brought all my school things,” you laugh. 

“Well, I suppose it won’t matter that the library is closed since you brought it with you,” he chuckles and you take the seat beside him. 

“Should we start?” you open your laptop and power on. 

“I thought perhaps you’d like a beverage?”

“Oh,” you look behind you at the register, “Yes, I suppose we should caffeinate,” you smile. 

“What would you like?” He stands up and brings his wallet out. 

“Oh please sir, let me pay, it’s the least I could do for all of your help,” you beg. 

“Nonsense, as much as I love to argue Miss ___ I don’t see the point over a cup of coffee, what would you like? Are you hungry?” 

“No, I ate lunch before coming, just a latte for me, small,” you concede, “and thank you…again.” 

He smiles and departs from the table. You watch him in the line from where you sit. Seeing Professor Lee like this feels…different. In a less formal setting he’s almost approachable, and you’re starting to see things about him that you don’t in class. Like his generosity, and kindness, the man even has a sense of humor and you think of texting Seungmin about it but stop yourself. You want to keep this all a secret. You don’t want anyone knowing that you’re in such desperate need of assistance with your courses, but also you want to keep this side of Professor Lee to yourself. 

You could think of worse ways to spend your Saturday afternoon than with an attractive law professor who’s willing to help you pass your classes. You wonder if he’s aware that all his students find him so hot, or if it’s something that’s never occurred to him. He doesn’t wear a ring on any of his fingers, which tells you he isn’t married, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. You can’t imagine that he’s not seeing anyone. In class he’s usually got on some academia aesthetic looking suit on, lots of tweeds and browns - today he wears a fitted pair of jeans, and a navy sweater with a white collared button up fashioned underneath, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His jet black hair isn’t styled like it usually is in class, and hangs long and loose around his face. He looks like such a boyfriend…

You blush and go back to focusing on your laptop. What the hell was that? He’s your professor. Which is actually kind of enticing…

You press your lips together and roll your eyes at yourself. Stop with the intrusive sexual thoughts about Professor Lee - the man is trying to save your ass, not spank it - having inappropriate daydreams, no matter how justified they may be, is unacceptable. 

“Here we go,” he comes back to the table and sets two mugs on the surface as he takes his seat again. 

“Thanks,” you smile politely, trying not to look at him. If you don’t look at him, maybe you won’t think about how cute he is and instead focus on what you ought to be: your failing grades. 

“So, let’s start with the main issue of your papers. Writing, in the legal sense, is cut and dry. It’s all about facts, findings, and nothing expressive or personal, which is where you seem to have the most trouble,” he begins and you try to absorb the information instead of noticing the way his lips look while sipping his coffee. 

This endeavor may be harder for you than just pulling your grades up. 

📖 ❤️

“I think that was a very productive first meeting,” he says optimistically as you start piling things back into your backpack. 

“I think so too,” you nod. Productive, yes - but now the real work begins and you’ll have to go home and actually re-write the damned thing. 

Professor Lee carries your backpack out the door, “Where’s your car?” 

“Oh, it’s at home, I just live a few blocks away,” you point in the general direction of your apartment. 

“You mean to tell me you carried this while walking from your house?” he holds the backpack with two hands for dramatics and you giggle. 

“It’s not that terrible, how long has it been since you were carrying books around, Professor? Surely you remember the struggle,” you tease. 

“I suppose it’s been a bit, here,” he reaches in his pocket and the SUV beside you beeps, he opens the passenger door, “I’ll drive you home so you don’t have to endure the struggle.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that sir,” you shake your head. 

“It’s fine, it’s a small college town Miss ___, I can get literally anywhere in less than five minutes, especially since the majority of students are gone this week. Let me be chivalrous for you,” he smiles and you melt a little bit. 

“Well, if you insist,” you look up at him as you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I do,” he closes the door, then places your bag in the backseat before coming around to the drivers side. 

“Are you always this difficult, Miss ___? Or are you just trying to be overly polite because I’m your professor?” he asks when you point him down the street towards your apartment. 

“Difficult, sir?” you look at him wide-eyed. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods, “You didn’t want me to buy your coffee, you nearly refused my ride home electing to carry a small library on your back while you walk,” a look of panicked concern washes over his face and he looks over at you, “This isn’t making you uncomfortable in any way is it? Being alone with me?” 

“No! No, absolutely not,” you assure him, though you wager that your thoughts about him would certainly make him uncomfortable. “I’m just so incredibly grateful for your help, and you continue to go out of your way for me. It’s just never something I…” you stop yourself. 

“Never something you what?” he presses. 

You laugh awkwardly, “It’s just not ever something I expected from you, given your reputation with the other students.” 

“Ah, yes,” he sucks his teeth, “My reputation of being an uptight jerk who doesn’t like anyone.” 

“I would never use those words sir,” you tell him. 

“You might not, but I have the internet too, I’ve seen the threads about me on social medias,” he shares. 

“You read those?” your voice raises at least three octaves. 

“Of course, I’m only human, curiosity gets the best of me from time to time.” 

“I don’t participate in those conversations,” you shake your head, “I understand that it’s only natural for students to want to know about the personalities of their upcoming professors, but the bias that occurs in those threads is absurd.” 

“I agree, though sometimes they can be helpful, to my ego at least,” he laughs. 

“How so?” you wonder, because you don’t remember seeing anything about his classes online that would feed his ego. 

“Some of my students may not like my personality, but they like looking at me,” he grins. 

“Professor Lee! That’s scandalous,” you laugh and playfully smack his shoulder. 

“What?” he laughs with you, “I’ve got to take something positive from it! 75% of those comments are atrocious, but I’m quite proud that I scored three hot peppers on the professor hotness scale.”

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth, “I cannot believe I’m sitting in your car having this conversation,” you giggle. 

“Is this your building?” he points. 

“Yes, it is.” 

He parks on the street and you take a deep breath when he exits the car. He knows his students think he’s hot, and now he knows that you know he knows. You pat yourself on the back for indicating you’ve never participated in those threads before the conversation took a turn towards hot peppers. Though you are 100% guilty of voting for his peppers. 

He opens your door, hanging your backpack across his shoulder. 

“I’ll walk this up for you,” he offers and you swallow hard. 

“Sure,” you smile, your heart pounding out of your chest. Professor Lee Minho is about to see the inside of your apartment. You try to recall the state you left the place in. You remember doing your dishes before you left, but that’s about the only productive thing you can remember doing today. 

You unlock your door and flip the lights on. Your art supplies are everywhere, and you have a bag of laundry by the door because you plan on hitting the laundromat this evening. In trying to move it out of the way you knock it over, a pair of your underwear spilling out onto the floor right at his feet as he walks through. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, humiliated, as he looks down at you grabbing up the black lace thong and shoving it back into the bag. 

To your utter relief, he says nothing about your undergarments. He sets your backpack down and looks around.

“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?” 

“Did you do all these?” he walks forward into the room towards the area you dry your paintings in. Canvas after canvas sits up against the wall, some completed, most unfinished. 

“Oh, yes,” you say, walking up beside him, “This semester has been really frustrating for me, and painting helps.” 

“Well, they’re beautiful, truly - you’re quite talented,” he looks down at you, “I can see why teaching art is a passion for you, you’ve certainly got quite a knack for it.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

“Teaching is very rewarding,” he adds, “I think that you should pursue your original dream Miss ___. You’ve clearly got a lot to offer the world,” he smiles down at you and you catch his gaze, a few quiet seconds pass as you look into his dark eyes. 

“You could just call me by my first name, ___, if you wanted,” you say softly, “and um, thank you, for complimenting my art.” 

“You’re very welcome, ___,” he responds, staring at you again. You watch his eyes flit down to your lips and your heart speeds up again. He suddenly clears his throat and looks back at the paintings, “I think we should make the most of the week, since classes aren’t meeting, this is a perfect time for you to catch up with your studies. Tomorrow is Sunday, which is the day I typically devote to catching up on grading, and I do have midterm grades to enter. Perhaps Monday?” he asks. 

“Monday, yeah. That works, um, I have a shift at work on Monday morning, but I’ll be free after 3PM.” 

“Perfect, we could meet at the Coffee House again, around 4:30?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great,” he begins walking back to the door, “and, um, while we’re together - working on your coursework I mean - feel free to call me Minho. However when classes resume, it’s probably best to address me as Professor Lee.” 

“Of course, Professor,” you agree. “Thank you, er…Minho…for everything today.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he opens the door then pauses, turning his head slightly in your direction, “Nice panties, by the way. See you Monday!” 

You stand there, speechless, staring at the closed door. 

📖 ❤️

Monday afternoon you can’t help but notice that Professor Lee - Minho - sits closer to you at the table in the coffee shop as he helps you study for one of your other classes. You don’t blame him, truth be told, you spent over an hour after your shift at the bookstore getting ready, hoping he’d look at you the same way he did Saturday. You are, without a doubt, down bad. To impress him even further you’ve got a surprise for him.

“I re-wrote my term paper,” you blurt as the two of you are clearing up the table after studying. 

“Already?” he looks at you. 

“I worked on it all night Saturday, and most of the day on Sunday. Do you want me to email it to you?” 

“Absolutely,” he smiles, “Good girl.” 

Fuck off, he did not just say that. You bite down on your lip and your thighs press together as you bring up your student email. You attach the file and send it to him. 

“It should be in your inbox the next time you check,” you say…like a good girl. Swoon. 

“Great, um, I was wondering - and just tell me to shut up if you want to - but I was wondering if you had plans this evening?” 

Your heart grows wings and begins to fucking fly. 

“No,” you shake your head, “I have zero plans for a Monday evening in a town that’s practically shut down.” 

He chuckles, “Right. So, would you want to join me for dinner maybe?” 

You at least pretend to mull it over instead of just shouting YES in some unflattering, desperate tone. 

“Where were you planning on eating?” you ask. 

“There’s a really nice place I like, it’s about a twenty minute drive out of town, but the food is impressive, never had a bad dish there,” he shares. 

“I am hungry,” you say, “I’d love to.” 

“Good, shall we?” 

📖 ❤️

“Are we celebrating anything special this evening?” the waiter asks as he sets two glasses of water down, “A first date? An anniversary perhaps?” 

“No.” 

Both of you answer him at the same time, and try to hold your laughter in when the poor man looks taken back. 

“Okay,” he says, “Can I get you all anything to drink from our wine or cocktail menu?” 

“I’ll have a glass of this pinot, chilled, please,” you point to the wine and the waiter writes it down. 

“I’ll have the same,” Minho smiles. 

“I’ll get those right out.” 

Minho bites his lip and stares down at the tablecloth, you frown. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m just trying to remind myself that nothing inappropriate is happening here, I’m having dinner with one of my female students, but you are an adult and so am I and it’s fine.” 

“I won’t be your student after this semester,” you point out, “I don’t know if that’s helpful or not though.” 

“It is,” he nods, then tilts his head, “yet somehow I still feel like I’m misbehaving.” 

“It’s only food, how is that misbehaving?” 

“It’s not what I’m doing,” he bites his lip again and looks up at you, “It’s what I’m thinking.” 

You take a sip of water, your body practically vibrating with curiosity, “What is it that you’re thinking, exactly?” 

“Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about my student,” he says quietly. 

“This isn’t high school, Professor, this isn’t even undergrad. Don’t be harsh on yourself, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about isn’t a bad thing,” you point out, hoping you sound cool and collected and not like you’re ready for him to take you right on this table. 

“So if I was thinking about fucking you after class in my office, across my desk, that wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Before you can respond the waiter returns with your glasses of wine, not a moment too soon. 

“I’ll let you guys look over the menu and come back in a few minutes.” 

You clear your throat once the waiter is gone, “I think fucking me on your desk would probably be inappropriate,” you smile, “especially to your neighboring colleagues. I have quite a mouth on me,” you say, opening your menu. 

You can feel him staring at you. “I’d very much like to hear it.” 

“Maybe you will, I guess we’ll see,” you shrug. 

The smile that spreads across his face is so dangerously mischievous, your clit throbs where you sit and you shift uncomfortably, only making it worse. 

📖 ❤️

The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife as you make your way back to his car. You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your arm and spins you around, your back pushed up against the door. 

His lips crash against yours, arms caging you in which is completely fine by you. You bury your fingers in his hair on either side of his head but he pulls away. 

“I want it to be clear I have never had any kind of sexual relationship with a student, ever,” he says quickly, then his lips are against yours again. 

“I believe you,” you manage between lips and tongues. 

He pulls away again, “And the only reason I’m pursuing this is because I can’t fucking resist you and you’re not going to be my student again after this semester,” he adds, then more kissing. 

“Got it,” you mumble into his mouth. 

Again he pulls away, “Seriously, even if you don’t quit law school I can never have you in class again, okay?” 

“Yes! Fuck that place, I’m done, and even if I wasn’t - I wouldn’t take you again, you’re an uptight jerk of a professor, remember?” you tease him, then desperately pull him back onto your lips. 

He shoves you harder against the car, his knee coming between your legs and you press yourself down on his thigh. You moan softly into his mouth and his hand smacks the side of the car. 

“Get in, fuck, please get in the fucking car.” 

He scrambles around to the drivers side as you jump in. 

“Your place or mine?” he asks, turning the ignition. 

“Which is closer?” you ask, pulling the seat belt so hard and quick that it locks up. 

“Uh…mine… mine I think.” 

“Then there’s your answer,” you tell him. 

Five minutes of him burning rubber down the highway is too long for you not to be touching him. You reach over and caress his thigh through his jeans, moving higher and higher until you find what you’re looking for in the darkness. 

He hisses as you stroke and massage his hard length through the fabric. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, “Are you as good a driver as you are a professor?” 

“I…why?”

You scoot as far as you can and lean over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, sliding your hand through the opening of his boxers until you feel the warm, velvety skin of his cock in your fist. 

“Oh fuck…oh my fucking…” he pants, his knuckles turning stark white around the steering wheel. 

You unbuckle his seatbelt as well and help him get it out of the way before pulling his cock from the confines of his jeans. 

You stroke him a few times, then let a glob of spit drip from your lips onto him so you can continue stroking more comfortably. 

“God…” 

You take him in your mouth and suck, running your tongue over the tip. The way he’s nearly whimpering, eyes so wide on the road, delights you. You put your mouth on him again, taking him deep in your throat, taking turns stroking and licking. 

“I’m going to cum,” he whispers hoarsely after several minutes, “I don’t have anything to…” he looks around frantically but you shake your head, popping your mouth off of him momentarily. 

“I can take it,” you whisper, then suck him between your lips once more. You can feel the base of his cock twitch and brace yourself, spurts of hot cum follow seconds later and you take it all from him greedily, swallowing then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Holy shit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That was so fucking hot.” 

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling down the visor so you can fix yourself in the mirror. The “kiss proof” lipstick you wore today is evidently not “road head proof” and you clean up the edges of your mouth. 

He reaches over and grabs your hand in his, squeezing and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb while he speeds down the road. 

📖 ❤️

The door to Minhos apartment isn’t even locked before he shoves you against it and presses his mouth to yours. 

“I want to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck. He drops to his knees and unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs. You kick your shoes off so he can get the pants off completely. 

He looks up at you and grins, tracing the lines of the black lace thong that toppled over at your apartment, “I was wishing very much that I’d get to see you in these,” he says, pressing his tongue against the tiny bit of cloth. 

You gasp at the way his lips move, teasing and licking through the thin lace, “Are you really going to eat me out against the door?” 

“Mmm,” he moans against your clit and your legs jerk, “Yes,” he says hooking his fingers in the strings and pulling the soaking wet cloth down your legs. 

“No patience at all Professor, I’m shocked,” you tease. 

“So… you can call me Minho,” he smiles, kissing and licking trails back up your legs, “but in class and when I’m fucking your pretty pussy feel free to use Professor.” 

“Absolutely Professor Lee,” you rest your head against the door as his tongue wiggles between your slick. “Fuck!” 

He finds your clit and wraps his lips around, gently sucking. You lay one of your thighs over his shoulder and try to steady yourself while he laps and sucks you off. You grab his hair with your fingers and move with him, fucking his face and listening to the delightful slurping, wet sounds erupting through the quiet room. 

“Oh…just like that, right there,” you whine when he begins to softly lick the perfect spot, “fuckfuckfuck…yes!” you release his hair from your fist and hold yourself against the wall as your legs begin to quake, cunt throbbing in rhythmic spasms as he milks you with his lips. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, trying to stand straight. He finally gets around to locking the door then picks you up, carrying you down a hallway. He pours you onto the bed and you watch as he strips himself of clothing, you follow suit, though half your outfit is in his foyer. 

You lay back, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him crawl over you, positioning himself between your legs. 

“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, the head of his cock leaking against your open cunt. 

“Yes, fuck, yes I want you,” you assure him, nails digging into his shoulder. He makes a gruff noise deep in his throat and lines himself up with your opening. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push into you and he does, slow and deep. You both moan into each other at the sensation of it.  

Slowly he begins to move quicker, still deep, but urgently. The sound of skin against skin intoxicating. He sits up a bit, your hips coming with him and he grabs them, using you as an anchor to thrust into you. 

“Minho…” his name comes out as a whisper, your eyes screwed shut. “So close…” 

“No, no,” he tsks, slowing down and pulling himself out, pushing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

He slides his cock against you until you start squirming beneath him, your clit still sensitive from his front door excursions. “Please? Fuck…” you whine loudly. 

“You want it?” he asks in a growl, stuffing himself inside you then pulling out again. 

“Yes! Yes! Please!” you cry, your nails scraping against the sides of his legs. 

“Are you sure baby?” he smirks, pushing into you and pulling out slowly several times. Your orgasm begins to build again and you meet his thrusts with your hips, chasing it. Until he pulls out again. 

“What are you doing?” you groan, half laughing and out of your mind. 

“Beg a little,” he urges, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock but pulling away every time you try to push against it. 

You snap your eyes open, the sight of him looking down at you makes you unhinged. “Please, Professor Lee, please let me cum,” you say it as sweetly and earnestly as you can muster. 

His eyes practically roll back in his head as he lines up with you again and pushes in deep, his hands fly back to your hips and he drags you on and off his cock until your vision goes white with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

“Sit up, please,” he begs breathlessly as he pulls away, stroking himself. You do as you’re told and watch as his lips part, his hand stills and shots of pearly strings shoot across your breasts. 

“Hold on,” he says when he can move again, then disappears behind a door, emerging a few moments later with a warm damp hand towel. He kisses you deeply as he cleans his cum off your chest. 

“That was so fucking good,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. 

“Yes,” he sighs, pulling you down beneath the blankets with him, “Yes it was.” 

He holds you close to him, your eyes getting heavier, “I think my books are still in your car. We could go over the paper on tort law I bombed over breakfast tomorrow?” 

He chuckles and nods, “It’s a date.” 

📖 ❤️

You sit in Professor Lees classroom as he passes back the latest exam. Term is almost over and everyone seems to be reeling with nerves around you. 

He slows beside your desk and lays your test down, “Much better, Miss ___, much better.” 

Seungmin looks over at your test, “Hey! Not bad,” he smiles cheerfully. 

“I’ve had a lot of help this semester,” you smile.

At the bottom of the last page you read the note of thin red ink,

See you at my place tonight?

The End

Endnote:

I am in my Lee Know slut era. I will not be taking questions about my worship of him at this time, thank you. As always, if you made it far enough to read this, please accept my virtual smooch.

Also as always this is unbeta’d bc that’s typically how I roll so it could be absolute trash but that’s okay bc we’re just having fun.

[dia-souls]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Imajin Tokuten Drama CD “Kawaii Plushie, Fanboys' Confusion!!!”

Original title: かわいいぬいぐるみ、ファンボーイの混乱

Source: Fanmade Tokuten Drama CD

Story by: Admin Afra

Seiyuu: Suegara rie, Midorikawa Hikaru, Toriumi Kousuke, Katsuyuki Konishi, Takashi Kondou, Tomoaki Maeno, Hirakawa Daisuke, Kaji Yuki,

Admin's note: Hey guys Finally, after a long time, a new drama CD by me Admin Afra. Who misses me??? Lol... Although I can't write comedy CDs and scenarios as well as Admin Irsa. But recently, my headcanon for plushie Yui has been very much noticed. That's why I decided to try this CD for this headcanon. If you like it, I will write Mukami and Tsukinami versions soon. This Sakamaki version is presented to you. I hope you like it. Don't forget to review and comment.

_This scene begins in the living room of the Sakamaki mansion. The triplets are watching Kou on a TV show.

Ayato: Why is that stupid idol in all the shows? I'm getting bored.

_Ayato changes the channel.

*Tap Tap*

Kanato: Ayato... can you please choose a channel and let us all watch it?

Ayato: Shut up!!!! Do not order Ore-sama. Ore-sama will watch whatever he likes. I don't want to see the face of that stupid idol on all channels.

_Ayato changes the channel again.

*Tap Tap*

Laito: You are right, Ayato-kun. I am much prettier. If I were an idol, I would have more fans than him. They probably showed me on more channels.

Ayato: If I saw you on TV, then I would blow up the TV.

Kanato: Me too...

Laito: Heeh... don't be so cruel. I'm sure more girls would be my fans.

_Ayato turns off the TV.

Ayato: I don't understand why there are so many channels and TV shows for girls. Why don't they make a TV show for boys? For example, the takoyaki eating contest.

Kanato: Ayato, no boy wants to watch such a show. Only you like it.

Laito: Hmmmmm. I don't like to see some boys with big mouths eating takoyaki. Even thinking about it makes me sick. I prefer to see cute and beautiful girls.

Kanato: There are idol girls too, Laito.

Laito: I know, but none of them can make my heart beat fast like Bitch-chan.

_Ayato swears under his breath.

Ayato: Chhh... Stupid pervert...

_Laito takes the TV remote from Ayato's side and turns the TV back on.

*Tap Tap*

_Laito changes several channels to a plushie advertisement.

Laito: Is that plushie... bitch-chan's plushie???

_Both Ayato and Kanato stare at the TV after hearing this. The TV is promoting the popular school club girl named Komori Yui.

Ayato: What the hell. Chichinashi???? Since when has Chichinashi been famous?

Laito: School club??? Ahhh, now I remember. A few months ago, bitch-chan said she wanted to join a school club. Hmmm, apparently, she is very popular among the boys in the club.

Kanato: IT'S UNFORGIVABLE. How dare that girl participate in the club without my permission? *SOB*.... I.... won't forgive her... *SOB*...

Ayato: That idiot... how dare she go out with other boys without Ore-sama's permission? When I see her, I will punish her.

Laito: Hmmmmm... I'm very sad to see that my dear bitch-chan has become popular with all these boys. She just needs to pay attention to me.

Shu: Pwaahhhhhhh.... can you shut up. Didn't you say just a few seconds ago that you want a TV show for boys? So why are you complaining now?

_Ayato, Kanato, and Laito flinched at Shu's voice.

Ayato: Waaahhhhh... Shu what the hell. What the hell are you doing here? When did you come here?

_Shu was lying on the couch and yawned.

*Rustle Rustle*

Shu: I was here from the beginning. You three idiots did not notice my presence.

Ayato: Shut up. You are always like this. Wherever you go, you sleep without talking to anyone. Obviously, no one will notice your presence.

Shu: Shut up... it's too loud. My ear hurt.

Ayato: Bastard...

_Shu opened one of his eyes and looked at the TV advertisement that was playing.

Shu: Hmmm... interesting... maybe I'll buy one for myself.

Ayato: Hahaha... don't tell me you like this ugly doll.

Shu: What's the problem with it? I can use it as a pillow. This way, when she is not with me, I can have her by my side.

Ayato: ...

Laito: ....

Kanato: ... I can't believe that this lazy man came up with such a good idea.

Laito: Nfu... that's a good idea. I would really like to have another version of Yui-chan too. In this way, I can do whatever I want with it.

Kanato: Fufu... Yes, Teddy will also be happy to have a new friend. Ne teddy I can dress up it like dolls to make it the most beautiful doll in the world.

Ayato: Tch... you two are very childish.

Laito: Come on Ayato. Wouldn't you like to have a small version of Bitch-Chan? Whenever Yui-chan is not with you, she can make takoyaki for you.

Ayato: Huh??? Can it really do that?

Shu: You are so stupid.

Ayato: Shut up. I have to try it myself, otherwise I don't believe it.

Laito: Nfu~ So let's go to that store and buy this cute plushie.

*TIMESKIP*

_Ayato, Laito and Kanato are walking in the store.

Ayato: Shit... why is it so crowded here?

Kanato: I can't stand people's noise. It's so noisy.

Laito: You two are very impatient. Nfu~ Be patient and then we'll go home with that cute plushie.

???: Oh my... KarlHeinz's sons are in the fanboy store. Hahaha... what a funny subject.

*click click*

_The triplets look behind them when they hear a familiar voice.

Ayato: Haaaaa..... Kino!!!! what are you doing here?

Kino: Isn't it obvious? I came looking for my dear princess. She is not with you?

Ayato: Who said she's yours? She is only my prey. Chichinashi is not with us.

Kino: Huh? what a pity I wanted to go like a lovely couple and buy that cute plushie.

Kanato: Did you come here for the plushie?

Kino: Of course. She is my lovely princess and I am her prince.

Ayato: Don't talk nonsense.

Kino: I myself encouraged her to participate in this club. They were looking for cute and beautiful girls to support animals. My dear princess was so cute and tried for animals that she quickly became popular among the boys. I'm thinking that my princess should have become a famous idol instead that Mukami.

Laito: Although I don't like you, I agree with you. But I don't want to share my beloved Bitch-chan with other boys.

Kino: In any case, this promotion is for promoting this club and because of Yui's new popularity. In addition to boys, she has become very popular among girls.

_A person with a black cape, hat, mask and glasses that completely covers his face enters the store.

Ayato: Hah... Thief...

Laito: Nfu~ He isn't a thief. He is only a shy fanboy who doesn’t like to be known at all.

Kino: Scary. Some fans are very scary.

_The suspicious man buys a plushie and quickly leaves the store.

Kanato: Heyyyyyyyy. I want to leave this store faster.

Kino: I also don't like to see other boys buy my dear princess plushie.

_Ayato goes in front of Kino and grabs his collar tightly in his fist.

*Rustle Rustle*

Ayato: Listen, bastard. I will not let you buy that plushie at all. Chichinashi is only my prey.

Kino: Fufu Ayato-kun, if you think like that... you should stop all those boys who are standing in front of the cash register buying plushies.

_Kino points to the counter and Ayato turns his head to look there. A group of boys lined up in front of the cash register to buy plushies.

Ayato: Chhh... you bastards...

_Ayato quickly releases Kino's collar and goes to stand in front of the cash register in front of all the boys.

Ayato: Everyone listen.

_Ayato takes the speaker from the vendor and speaks through it.

Ayato: Ore-sama is speaking. Get out of the store, you bastards. This girl is my prey and no one but me has the right to buy this plushie.

_All the boys and vendors stare at Ayato.

Ayato: Did you hear what I said? Ore-sama will give you orders. Hurry up and get out of the store

Kanato: Is he serious?

Laito: Oh, oh. I think we are going to be in trouble.

Kino: Pffff.... Hahahahaha.... Your brother is so stupid.

Kanato: Laito. Let's buy the plushie and go before it causes us trouble.

_Laito and Kanato go to the group of boys so that the seller won't notice that they are with Ayato.

Ayato: Oi, Kanato, Laito, why did you go to them? Let's help me get rid of these bastards.

Kino: Hmmmm. Things are getting interesting.

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: Chhh... Ahhhhh... How is the security of that store so strong? The place where he kicked me still hurts.

Kanato: You are so stupid, Ayato.

Ayato: Shut up. It's your fault that you didn't help me, otherwise we would have kicked out all those bastards.

Laito: Shame on you, Ayato-kun... I don't like being beaten by security at all. My beautiful face becomes scarred and I become ugly.

Ayato: You are so pathetic Laito...

_Kino walks behind them while laughing under his breath.

Ayato: You bastard... why are you laughing at us? You got what you wanted. Why are you following us?

Kino: Oh... Ayato-kun don't be so mean. I would like to see my dear princess.

Ayato: Shut up. I won't let you see her.

Laito: At least we could all buy plushies.

Kino: Too bad. I wanted to see my dear princess. But I think it doesn't matter. I will call her when I get home. I can't wait to take a picture of myself and this plushie and send it to her. Her reaction must be very cute... Fufu... Goodbye. I hope to see you very soon.

_Kino moves away from the triplets while waving his hand.

Ayato: Haha... in hell...

*TIMESKIP*

_Ayato, Kanato and Laito enter the mansion.

Ayato: Chhch... My body hurts.

Shu: Pwaahh... So you are finally back.

_Shu is lying on the couch while yawning and Yui's plushie is on the pillow next to his head.

Laito: ....

Kanato: ...

Ayato: ...... How???? Oi lazy man, how did you get that plushie without coming to the store?

Shu: Huh? It's... so easy. I ordered online.

Ayato: ....

Kanato: Haaaaaaa???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE COULD ORDER IT INSTEAD OF GOING TO THAT ANNOYING STORE, SHU WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US? I WON'T FORGIVE YOU. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU...

Shu: I was surprised why the three of you took so much trouble to go to that store. Well, this is not my problem. Now please be quiet. I want to sleep You are very noisy.

Ayato: You bastard...

Laito: Nfu~ I can't wait anymore. I want to do many things with this plushie. Ahhh, even thinking about it makes me hot.

Kanato: I would like to try different clothes on her. My new and beautiful doll is going to be very beautiful.

Ayato: Both of you shut up. This is going to be very interesting. Ahemm... Ahemm... Chichinashi, go make me some takoyaki.

_Laito and Kanato stare at Ayato and Shu smirks.

Kanato: ...

Laito: ....

Shu: Pffffff... you are so stupid.

Ayato: What?

Laito: Did you really expect a plushie to be able to move and make takoyaki for you?

Ayato: Huh? It can't? So why did we try so hard to buy it?

Shu: I am satisfied. It smells like that woman. It is a good pillow. At least when Yui is not here, this plushie will help me.

Kanato: You don't understand how precious dolls are.

Laito: I can also try interesting fantasies on it.

_Yui rushes into the room.

Yui: Ayato-kun, Reiji-san is very angry with you. He said that you in the store___

_The triplets stare at Yui.

Yui: What the..... !!!!!

Ayato: Oi Chichinashi. This ridiculous doll can't make takoyaki for me. Hurry up, make me takoyaki.

Yui: ...

_Meanwhile in Subaru's room.

Subaru: Hah... hah... I did it. I really i did it.

_Subaru enters his room while wearing a black coat, glasses and a mask and quickly goes to his coffin and puts Yui plushie in it and looks at it.

Subaru: I did it...

_Subaru blushes while staring at Yui plushie.

Subaru: Damn it... this is so cute...

_Subaru hugs Plushie and sleeps inside the coffin.

Subaru: Yui, please always stay with me...

_Meanwhile in Reiji's room. Reiji is sitting on a chair and brushing the plushie hair that was pre-ordered a few days ago.

Reiji: Good grief... these things are not for me.

_Reiji covered his face with his hand to hide his embarrassment.

Reiji: No one should know about this. NO ONE.

[yonseibananamilk]

“𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆."

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ living with fyodor was the same as living without him. however, the night of his return reminds you, embarrassingly so, just how close the two of you are. literally. (~4k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 i think i may or may not be starting to hate my writing BUT i really stretched beyond what im used to in certain parts of this and i am quite proud of myself for that ^^

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 canon compliant, suggestive themes(especially around the end), fyodor is very cold temperature-wise, soft!fyodor(hes soft in his own way), references to my work song fic ! + connected directly to it will come back as it is a part 2 ^^

ᡣ𐭩 special special જ⁀➴ this fic is in collaboration with @musamora ‘s new talk!fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please try to check hers out too if you can — shes a brilliant writer and a lovely person overall <3

Books upon books knitted themselves compact inside the towering shelves that pressed into the walls of what you assumed was Fyodor’s home. He had never called it his home, in fact, you explicitly remember when he did bring you here —

“Welcome to this humble abode. Feel free to touch and grab whatever you desire. Everything here belongs to you, дорогая.”

— Ever since that blind date (gone wrong(but then right in the end)), the Russian had let you stay for as long as you liked. One night led to two, which led into you bringing over a few things for just a few more nights.

Which led to you staying with Fyodor for nearly a month now.

You shook your head at the thought. If anything, he was the visitor. The man was hardly ever home, therefore you weren’t even living together. And you were, like anyone else with experience in a leaky apartment, eager to accept a place as generous as this.

The house held two stories; the first floor with the living room, foyer, and utilities, and the second floor with the bathroom and bedroom. Not to mention there was even an accessible attic-study.

In the beginning, he had stayed the night with you on the couch while you remained upstairs. But it had been weeks since then. Your Russian companion, much to your dismayed crocodile tears, was now predominantly busy with his ‘mission’. You couldn’t argue with that.

Though, on one of the times when Fyodor did stay longer than just a few hours…

“Please? I don’t mind, I swear! Besides, we’re both adults, not some teenagers that’ll go off at the first brush of skin. You don’t have to sleep on the couch..!”

You didn’t want to admit that you had actually stained the sofa downstairs on the first day of being here — even if Fyodor knew about it already, with all his observance — and it also felt… wrong to have him sleep on the couch. Cold. In the dark. And very, very, very lonely.

With a desperate and dramatic gesture of your arms, you tried to make the bed as dreamy as possible to his cherry wine eyes. “See? So comfy!”

To prove your point even further, you jumped on yourself with a muffled noise in the comforter.

“How amusing.”

Your point was most certainly not taken.

Therefore, you began to deflate into the sheets. Even more muffled now, and perhaps even softer than before, you mumbled out — “Is ‘modesty’ really the only reason why you won’t share anything with me?”

Everything in the room stilled. As if gauging the weight behind your words. Then, faintly, a gust of a sigh fell into the golden air of your nearby nightlamp. The candle flame was tickled into a dance thanks to the Russian, twisting and spinning hypnotically.

So hypnotically that you failed to catch the shift in the bed beside your head.

Not until a chilled hand fell atop your head. Bony fingers of ice itself urged your face up and away from the fire. Your attention was rewarded with a smooth, humming smile.

“There is more, дорогая.” He admitted. “But those reasons have nothing to do with you. After all, you are the sole reason why I would like to sleep here.”

Briefly, so much so where you barely even caught it this time — a thumb brushed over your lips. Cherry wine eyes batted down at you, reflecting the flame behind your burning face. Like the sun was the center of his very being.

“Then why don’t you?”

As his thumb curled into the corner of your lips, the rest of his hand glided over your skin. Two fingers read the curves of your jawline. Its adjacent pair followed down to the side of your neck.

He could grab your entire head with ease.

Fluttering ties in your stomach unraveled and twisted again in an endless heap of knots. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking of? Why is he getting closer?

A chilled breath brought respite to your burning cheeks. But only for a moment.

Why is he moving away?

“Be wary of the fatigue that will eat you, if you do not sleep soon, дорогая.”

Pale feet revisited the cold, yet still warmer than him, floors. Wood welcomed him with a tired creak, following the man’s every step until he reached the doorway. By then, you had turned off your back to finally face him yourself.

“But I’m not tired.” Horribly, a yawn tore through your last syllable. The heaviness of your eyelids was never apparent until now.

Another amused hum brought you back to the Russian before you, hand on the knob as he smirked down at you. Slowly, the sharp edges of his little grin faded into something softer, fuzzier.

A smile, he had gifted you.

“If you are not tired…” Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating every little thing for his next suggestion. As if crying out — “What? Yes? What is it?”

“Then remember this: there is danger in giving into one’s desires, дорогая.” Icy red eyes rove over your laden figure with an unreadable spark. He always looked at you so curiously.

“I would be wise to not fall victim to such dangers. As would you.”

The closing door halted itself instantly when you let out the smallest of huffs.

“My offer still stands…” With a dragging breath of protest, you fell underneath the blankets.

Black swirls encapsulated your mind as you managed to spin his words effortlessly; “Remember this: there is reward for passing through danger.”

…

Unknowingly shooting through the Russian’s morale — you fell asleep with the same singular weight of your own on the bed. However, the door was still ajar in the morning upon your awakening.

But that moment was weeks ago. The memory of it proven by the clear frown on your lips — twitching up and down every now and then based on whatever the book you read said.

You wouldn’t spend your time thinking about someone who wouldn’t even give you so much as a clear answer to ‘How was your day?’

A creak of wood whipped your head around in urgence. Only for nothing to be there.

Nothing but a pang of disappoint. All at the absence of a certain Russian.

Well. Maybe you would spend a bit of your time.

With a ruffled sigh you fell back against the chair, pages still in hand as the grandfather clock behind you whisked the day away. These moments of solitude had become a daily part of your life — ever since popping out of Fyodor’s floorboards like a daisy in the snow.

But they might as well have been your floorboards too.

The creak of wood glided past your ears. Followed by the light shuffle of a coat being draped over the rack nearby. Then the ghosts of footsteps slowly but surely making their way toward the living room.

“Hm?”

Much to his amusement, there you sat. Old book in hand atop the gentle rise and fall of your chest. In a peaceful slumber too.

“How adorable.” The R rolled after his deep chuckle, growing slightly in volume as he drew closer to your laden frame. “Falling asleep to folktales, are we? Hm, дорогая?”

Frostbite ghosted over your cheek. A chill fell over your fingertips — the lingering absence of your now-taken book. Burgundy eyes flitted over the title with a deep hum.

Surprisingly enough, you had managed to find one of the few English books that hid in his shelves. The vast majority were Russian(as he wasn’t the best with learning new languages).

“Orpheus and Eurydice?” His tongue read. “Now what on Earth compelled you to read such a tale..?”

Firewood slid off one another as it ate away at itself in incessant hunger. A desire for something warmer than what it already had. A rod poked it stable in no time.

“Perhaps my дорогая is more romantic than she lets on. It makes me wonder…”

The shadows around him chuckled in tandem before, again, rippling as the fireplace was muted once more.

‘What a foolish thought.’ His brain reprimanded.

Yet his heart leapt not once, but twice — as you began to slowly stir awake. With orange light painted across the dips of your babbling lips in a silent dance with dark.

“Uah… who’s there..?”

Raven locks fell to the side as he tilted towards you slowly. Akin to an animal watching something unusual. Unexplainable. Unimaginable. A thick silence filled the air as Fyodor lagged to translate your words — no thanks to the strange foreign tingling south of his head — all by the sight of you.

‘How vulnerable.’ He mused. ‘How adorable.’

Despite knowing full well what was coming out his lips — despite knowing just what it could risk for him —

“Федя is here.”

He had willingly revived something. Something that had lied dormant for dozens of hundreds of years. All for you. You and your daftly half-conscious state. He hadn’t been called such a simple name since childhood.

And since his family was alive.

Despite his already-dissipating regret, icy tips glided reverently over the crown of your head. The locks of it threaded like yarn. Each part sifted through like flour. The back of it all was cupped tightly — encouraging your limp head to face him.

“Fe… diya…?”

Oh how adorable you were. So sleepy you couldn’t even pronounce a simple nickname. A diminutive. An endearment.

Nor could you realize how special you were right now. Though, that was the norm at this point.

“Yes. Can you indulge Fedya for a moment, дорогая?” The Russian cooed with a smile both condescendingly familiar, and unrecognizably tender.

Your whined nod was enough to coax him closer. Arms atop the sides of the chair. Frosted breath wafting just shy of your pulse.

“Can you tell Fedya what you were thinking of? Hm?”

Lithe fingers haunted the cover of your little folktale with echoed taps. His cherry wine gaze hooked onto the half-lidded glaze in your eyes.

“Tell him what you were thinking of when reading such a story?”

As slurred syllables pooled from your tongue, Fyodor locked himself onto every quiver, bite, and sound. Each was greedily soaked into the prodigy’s mind — held in higher regard than any mazed tactic.

Although just as half-lidded as yours, his eyes were far more awake than they had been during his accursed mission earlier.

After all, if Fyodor knew such a sweet sight waited for him here — he would’ve destroyed everything in his path to get back as soon as possible.

Frosted breath ghosted over the angle of your jaw, waiting patiently for something more.

“I… I thought that Eurydice was very lucky to have been loved so dearly... Regardless of what happened at the end.”

Black brows rose at you. “Lucky?”

“Yes. I’m a bit envious — being loved so dearly is…” A shake of the head pauses your sleepy train of thought. With a deep breath, your head reclined further into the plush of your seat before correcting yourself.

“Being loved is a very lucky thing indeed.”

Well weren’t you the lucky one?

The gentle squeaks of the couch were thankfully muffled by your weight, settling further and further into its cotton fabric. Your warmth soaked into it well. Though, much of that warmth was the fire’s — which only seemed to be growing.

Just along the edges of your peripheral, a certain smiling Russian was also present — leaned over your shoulder closely. Close enough for the scent of black tea to flood your nostrils yet again.

“Could you imagine it?”

A chill ran over the hairs on the nape of your neck. Fyodor’s breath was cold. His lips too.

“Imagine being loved…?” Your voice was far softer than expected. “I… suppose it would be nice. Very nice, in fact. I’d like to be cared about…”

Shifting your eyes, the golden text of the book was now being circled by Fyodor’s idle fingers. Lithe enough to perfectly recreate the intricate cursive. And cold enough to make you shudder at the mere sight.

Nonetheless — the image of such hands snug around you was as warm as the shared fireplace.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” He cooed. Slender fingertips rhythmically tapped atop the book cover.

“Being loved…” Cherry wine eyes reflected the orange fire beside you. “Or wanted…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Is a very human desire.”

Another swallow. Glued to the fiddling hands in your lap, your heart leaped with you upon asking;

“Do you desire it as well?”

Briefly did his eyes widen.

It was borderline impossible to catch Fyodor off-guard. But, as luck would have it, you succeeded at it like any other mundane task. You always did.

It’d be terrifying if not so attractive.

“I suppose…” Once unoccupied fingers found their way atop your shoulder. Chills ran through your arm. As well as an unwelcome spark through your entire body. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A flicker of your shared fireplace caught your eye. Avoiding the piercing gaze of Fyodor Dostoevsky as he, much to your confusion, stared into your very essence. It was as if he was analyzing every curve and groove before completely committing it to memory.

That sly, condescending chuckle reeled you home to him. All semblance of earlier surprise had drained from his eyes. “What a curious question, дорогая. Were you picturing it in your mind?”

Blackberry strands fell against the white fabric of his shirt, flowing in tandem with the inching of his face.

“Thinking… pondering… wondering…”

Orange light danced within the seeds of his eyes.

“Imagining what it’d be like to be loved by me?”

You didn’t know whether to fuse with the couch or disappear completely.

Whatever happened to the fire danced over your already-burning cheeks — radiating against the chill of Fyodor’s face as he bordered closer and closer.

“Can you imagine it?”

Close enough to count each eyelash.

Close enough to taste the scent of black tea and iron on your tongue.

Close enough to feel the subtle heat of his cheeks.

“Imagine being loved by me?”

Your lower lip began to tremble. Sweat sprinkled from your shaky palms. That same spark shocked you from head to toe yet again.

Everything felt heavy. Heavy and warm.

And your nose itched. Itched and twitched. You couldn’t help but sniff — which only amplified the hot water in your eyes — already glittering in your lashes. The unsaid border between the two of you dwindled like a candle in the wind.

All you knew was that you were sweaty, shaky, and far too warm to be considered normal.

A snort caught itself in his throat. While perfectly timed with just how stiff you were getting, your little sniffle was not out of embarrassment. Simply an incoming sneeze that he would gladly bless you for in: 3, 2—

“Achoo!”

…

He did not want to finish that countdown.

“Woah…! I got my boogers on your face! Hah!”

“That you did.” The Russian begrudgingly muttered, closed eyes subtly twitching under the weight of your giggles and dabbing sleeve. “Bless you.”

Despite all your unceremonious, uncouth, undisciplined whatnots — the sheepish smile you flashed to him was hardly ignored. “Thank you… Did it get in your eye?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Aww. Better luck next time then.”

The caught snort from before clawed its way out of Fyodor and into a throaty, hearty, genuine laugh.

No cocky chuckles. No sadistic grins. No sly hums.

Just a normal laugh. With golden fire reflecting off the sides of his face like framing sunrays. And a usually imperceptible ombre of deep magenta in his otherwise black hair — thanks to the generous amount of light the fireplace provided a few feet away.

Sure, it was akin to the cawing of crows at the crack of dawn — Fyodor most certainly hadn’t laughed like that in what seemed like centuries. But it was touching nonetheless.

Very much so.

“It’s rude to stare, дорогая.”

It was even harder to look away when he was smiling so warmly.

“I bet Orpheus wouldn’t think Eurydice was rude — even when her boogers got in his eye.”

An unfamiliar emptiness frosted over your shoulder when the Russian leaned away. “Perhaps, дорогая. Perhaps.”

You couldn’t recall a time when he was ever so warm.

“There are no more wool blankets.” The Russian patted through the wooden cabinets with a small hum. “Дорогая, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

Looking over his shoulder, a cherry wine gaze poured over your freshly showered & dressed body. You learned to always stay snug for the cold that managed to occasionally sneak its nightly way past the fireplace — crackling happily a hallway down.

You hummed back, offering the man a smile warm enough to rival it. “I do.”

“And whatever happened to them?” Knowing lips cooed. The answer fell sweeter when it was from your tongue than his mind.

“I put them in the attic because they scratched at my face,” Rubbing at your arms, a wave of apology washed over you. Maybe Fyodor preferred blankets that way? Scratchy and itchy. He was a strange man after all.

Even more strange now that he was finally content with sharing a bed. You don’t think you’d ever seen a man smile for so long. However eerie though, at the end of the night, it was… endearing.

Tonight, he had changed out of the usual wear for war(or whatever he did outside of the house) — a fluffy white robe wrapped snug around Fyodor. Tied together by the loose cotton belt.

“And so you have been sleeping in a single blanket? Instead of the multiple wool ones I had given you?” The urge to hang your head was woefully strong. You opted to shuffle your feet instead.

“Yes, Fyodor. I… I can give you the blanket for the night if that’s what you want?”

Briefly, his roving eyes met yours. With a small lilt of his voice, which was another strange way of expressing amusement for him, the Russian cooed; “And leave a woman to fend for herself against the cold?”

Another spark of warmth crackled under your skin. The sensation swam through your bones in a melting frenzy that burned your face once it reached it.

“T-then we can share…?”

Cherry eyes crinkled in delight.

“Wonderful idea, дорогая.”

As your knees slowly crawled up to meet your chest, the sway of his hair encapsulated you in a garden of imagination — with cherry wine eyes to drink and straight locks that rivaled shades of the ripest blackberries. Such sweet attributes for such a cold man.

Literally. He was colder than the air itself when sitting on your bed. The man could’ve drunken up all the warmth in the room, and still ask for more.

“You’re freezing!” You whined out, curling into a shuddering ball. “Maybe you should take that blanket, you might as well take the ones in the attic too.”

A frown quipped its brows at you. Yet, despite all his shown annoyance, there lacked a general sense of danger that once lived within.

Every glare was now punctuated with a cooing riddle of warning but quickly followed by a soft smile — imperceivable to all he knew. Excusing you.

“And I assume that means you are warmer? Hm?”

“Well, duh. I’ve been soaking in the fireplace all day waiting for you.”

“Oh?”

Under the gentle fire of your candlelit bedside, a meek coral bloomed across the slim cheeks of his face. His ears were red too — how long had he been that way?

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Yes.” An exasperated breath left you feeling flustered and confused.

“Diligently?”

“And I was very lonely the whole time.”

A sense of deja vu sprung over you like a freshly pouring fountain.

Candlelight brewed against his face. Cherry wine eyes raked over your every inch. Pale skin, now painted with pink, smoothly approached closer and closer and closer —

Until the two of you are face to face once again. Illuminated only by generous candlelight and warmed by a singular blanket, except for Fyodor leeching off your heat.

“Дорогая, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you thought we were married. With you waiting so, what was the word...?"

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ah yes. Diligently for my arrival.”

Freezing fingertips grazed along the bridge of your jaw. Dancing over the skin like whistling air, then halting at the chin. Two fingers held it gently, softly, reverently even.

“Though, my words are not necessarily a complaint.”

Candlelight pooled over the side of his face, glistening in the corners of Fyodor’s eyes like water lanterns at nighttime. You could only hope he was staring at you because you looked just as beautiful.

Gulping, a strained noise tumbled from your lips —

“Oh? Whining now?” A chilling thumb ran over the shine of your bottom lip. He was closing in.

“I did not whine.” Your voice cracked. “I just—”

Words left you. Tumbling freely from your throat in an entanglement of broken syllables and whines.

And with each mishap, his grin only grew. Evident by the crinkled underside of his trailing gaze.

At long last, a semblance of defense clicked into mind — spilling out with almost-paralyzing heat inside. And yes. Your voice cracked a second time.

“You caught me off-guard!”

“I did?” He crooned. The weight of your blanket was peeled off — making way for Fyodor to finally join you. Which you would’ve been over the moon about — if your thoughts weren’t so scrambled. You only hoped his were, too.

Every restrained laugh. Every languid movement. Everything he did — you prayed that he felt even a semblance of the bashfulness you did. Maybe then, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing.

“Oh, дорогая.” Frostbitten lips sighed. “You truly are adorable.”

Time melted into an infinity of simply you and Fyodor. With your brain dry of anything else to say, and his hopefully the same. With one last strained noise, you turned away to bury yourself into the cotton of your now-shared bed.

A candlelit silence bloomed over.

As the sheets’ soft heaviness cradled back over you, Fyodor included now, the man slid himself behind your burning face — peacefully watching the uncharacteristic heat fizz out of your little head.

Blackberry locks stretched over the expanse of the pillow like grape vines across a fence.

Amid all your muffled sounds, the cotton had begun to seep a sense of sleep into your skin, added on by Fyodor’s granted silence. With a sniffle, you reluctantly let go of his blundering words — slowly but surely relaxing into the candlelight bed. But not without an evident pout.

A haze of warmth enwrapped you. Cozy.

The edges of consciousness were held by none other than a familiar pair of cold hands. Which slithered their way around your waist — pulled you snugly against their owner’s body — allowing him to soak in the feast of your body heat.

Oddly enough, as the Russian slid himself closer, not an inch of his frigid temperature leaked into yours. Quite the opposite.

Your slumbering body thawed away at his cold one.

Save for one place that did not need any more warming. Like his cheeks, for example. Or elsewhere.

taglist ᯓᡣ𐭩 @aureatchi @soleelia + people that also wanted to be added but please know time is my greatest enemy

translations! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

дорогая - ‘darling’ i just cant envision fedya saying ‘baby’. darling is the only accurate one.

thank you so much to @musamora for betareading again !!! she is quite literally the sweetest writer i know and this fic couldnt be possible without her ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

also thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers! the images for the banner were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

© yonseibananamilk 2024 - please refrain from copying, plagiarizing and/or reposting my works on other platforms. reblogs, notes, and comments are very appreciated!

[justjudethoughts]

Lessons in Divine Mercy

Necessary Context: Very early on in my journey with Religious OCD, extremely well-meaning mentors would often tell me the story of the Prodigal Son, and end it with "you just need to trust in God's mercy! He wants to forgive you!" But you see, for me, that was never the problem. 14-year-old me KNEW God wanted to forgive her. She also knew that if she committed a mortal sin, she was supposed to go to confession. And, well, um, she thought everything was a mortal sin. Literally skipped brushing my teeth once and thought it was a mortal sin. What scared me the most was the realization I couldn't literally spend 24/7 in confession. And if I was committing a mortal sin every few minutes, then how was I ever supposed to stay in union with God? To me, absolutely none of this had to do with trusting that God was merciful.

I was wrong.

It took a while to come to this conclusion, but I eventually realized that trusting in God's mercy had more to it than simply trusting He wanted to forgive me. It meant trusting that He knew me better than I knew myself. That He saw my heart and my mind and the absolute agony I was going through, and more than that, that He cared. I had to trust that His mercy was bigger than my illness. That He wasn't scared of my scruples. In practice, that meant I had to trust that even if I somehow managed to

— 1) Commit a mortal sin 2) Convince myself afterwards that it wasn't a mortal sin and I was just obsessing and 3) Forgo going to confession in an attempt to not perform a compulsion— that God would not hold that supposed mortal sin against me. Of course, now I realize how unlikely that entire situation is to even happen in the first place, but at the time it was my reality. It was my fear every single day, and that leap of faith was a terrifying one to make. But when I did, I could finally begin to do the things I needed to heal (aka, avoid compulsions, trusting that God is going to take care of it even if I mislabeled and avoided something I actually should have done as a compulsion).

You see, what I hadn't realized at the time is that God's mercy doesn't just mean He forgives your sins— it means He has a tender, bleeding, broken heart for you. For you and for everything you have been through. For you and for every hurt stored in your chest. For you and you alone, as though you were the only one to ever exist. His mercy does not simply say "go and sin no more," it stoops to write in the sand, and while doing so, finds you at eye level. Looks you in the eye, takes your hand, and raises you to your feet. Calls you by name. The Jesus who meets you in the confessional is the same Jesus who wept when Lazarus died. Whose heart was moved with pity for the crowd. Who dropped everything to raise a little girl from the dead, and the first thing He said when she was awake was to make sure she was given something to eat.

Divine Mercy means that God sees where you are, knows where you are, and pursues you there. Meets you there. Why else do you think He came down to earth as a baby? We got ourselves in trouble by trying to build a tower to heaven because that was never what we were supposed to do. God stoops to us. The confusion of Babble was undone by the descent of the Holy Ghost.

He sees you. He knows you. And He cares. Oh, how it hurts His heart to see you hurt! And how much more it hurts to see you scared of Him. Do you not think the Hands that crafted you know every crevice of your heart? Do you not think that the God who became a baby, whose heart was pierced for love of you, could hold anything inside that heart beside tenderness at the thought of you? For all of eternity He has had a simple wish — to wash your feet and kiss your wounds. Will you trust Him enough to let Him?

[landitolover]

𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒎 in which pierre is dating everyone’s favorite singer! ౨ৎ pierre x female!singer!reader

Liked by ynswife, pierregasly, xoxoyn, and 43,789 others

ynupdates Y/n, her first night and her first time playing in paris!! She preformed amazing and gave us a sneak peak of her new song, “dance with me” ���� who could this song be about ? 🧐🧐

view all 678 comments..

user why did paris do to deserve this..😐😐 Like wdym they got a sneak peak of her new song????? 😭😭

→ user RIGHT like stop it oui oui bitches.

user she made dance with me for me wdym

user i’d kill to see her live 😭

user what’s happening to me?? 🧍‍♀️-🧎‍♀️-🎸

user PARIS GO SUCK A DICK

user i lost a song i didnt even know i could Lose.

→ user LITERALLY.

user PIERRE SIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user her outfit is so cute 😭❤️

→ user rightt, shes always eating

Liked by yourbestie, charles_leclerc, and 998,788 others

yourusername thank u france 🥖🥖🇫🇷🇫🇷 love u ❤️❤️🙈🙈

view all 3,479 comments..

yourbestie who is this french man mrs ……. ?!?!?!!!!

→ yourusername Idk i was just kissing a random baguette man i found on the street :///

→ yourbestie ur gonna get a disease from kissing a random french man………

→ yourusername ouch. -french man

user we lost her to a french man ☹️

→ yourusername dw he will never compete with u guys

user IS THIS THE MAN SHES WRITING A SONG FOR?????

→ yourusername thank u to my maaan 🫡

user i can tell pierres hair, and thats his hair in the 3rd pic.

→ user yeah cause that bitch is balding

→ user LMFAO THATS FOUL 😭😭

user the last picture is literally PIERRE.. ARE THEY TRYING TO BE OBVIOUS

→ user right they’re not even hiding it

Liked by yourbestie, yukitsunoda0511, and 345,971 others

pierregasly Over the break 💕

View all 484 comments

yukitsunoda0511 I really like your photographer 😂

→ pierregasly Thanks yuki, I love her too 😂

charles_leclerc Seems like you’ve been having some fun over the break 🫣

→ pierregasly 🤔🤔

user AAAHSOXOSAOS YN YN YN

→ user who is yn and why do people think she’s with pierre??

→ user she’s an artist! you should search her up/ listen to her!!

user pierres soft launch era!! get rid of it. I NEED TO KNOW WHO SHE IS

user i love how yuki is still in these photo dumps ❤️

Liked by pierregasly, yourbestie, and 134,889 others

yourusername hellloooo everybody!!!!!!!! new single out in a few days (yay) it’s called “dance with you” 💌

View all 589 comments

user WE’RE FINALLY GETTING FEED

user EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO HER MAN, HE GAVE OUR GIRL INSPO

→ user thank you kind sir we don’t know of

→ user thank you for making our mother write love songs x

→ user THANK 😭 U 😭 YN’S 😭 MAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user my prayers have been answered 😭🙏🏼

user CANT WAIT OH MU GOD

user I’m so ready to stream this song everyday and cry.

→ yourusername don’t cry babes 😞❤️ ILY

user LETS GO LESTS GOO WE WON

user cancelling all my plans just in case she calls !!

→ yourusername BACK WHEN I WAS LIVIN FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

user GIRL I CANT WAIT U NEED TO RELEASE IT RIGHT THIS SECOND

user this is so AUAAGDUWOQDFC

pierregasly added to their story

seen by ynupdates charles_leclerc 252,676 others

YN 💕

PIERRE OH MY GOD

WHY WOULD U …

BAEB 🙊🤍

I MEANT TO PUT IT ON MY CLOSE FRIENDS I SWEAR

i mean ITS NOT LIKE PEOPLE DIDNT ALREADY KNOW..??

YN 💕

well YEAH.. but I wanted to tell my fans myself 😒

BAEB 🙊🤍

i’m sorry 😞

at least your single comes out in a few days .. ??

YN 💕

😒😒

ok wait

i forgive u 🤍🤍🥖🥖

BAEB 🙊🤍

❤️❤️❤️

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, and 88,992 others

yourusername a very wise man once told me it wouldn’t b a photo dump if yuki weren’t in it … so i kidnapped him so he could be in my photo dump, thanks yuki ❤️🙊🐈‍⬛🥖

tagged yukitsunoda0511 pierregasly

View all 989 comments

user YUKI WHAT ARE U DOIN HERE

→ user more like what is PIERRE doing here …

user i hope yk how to fight pierre fucking gasly

user plot twist what if shes dating yuki

→ user its time to take ur meds babe! all these soft launch pictures we’ve gotten have BROWN HAIR !! does yuki have brown hair ? no!!

→ user jesus girl i was joking .. maybe YOU should take ur meds, insane ass…

user the last photo 😭😭

→ user shes so real fo that though cause what is up with these sassy men

→ yourusername sassy men apocalypse 🧟

user this is by far my favorite post ever cause YUKI LOOKS SO ADORABLE 😞❤️

user i am so SICK. HUST POST YOU AND PIERRE KISSING OR SOMETHING 😭😭😭 PLEASE I CANNOT KEEP WAITING FOR YOU GUYS TO CONFIRM IT YOURSELF. PLEASE YOU GUYS ARE SO SICK AND FUCKIGN TWISTED 😭😭😭😭

→ user preach 🗣️🗣️🗣️💯💯💯

user poor yuki he had to third wheel

→ user wdym yn was third wheeling

yukitsunoda0511 I have a family please let me go

→ yourusername never 😹🙊

pierregasly my little photographer

→ yourusername i should start charging u..

→ pierregasly no … you can’t, I’m broke

→ yourusername you make more money than I do ????

Liked by pierregasly, yourbestie, and 99,192 others

yourusername heeyyoo! “dance with me” out noow…!!! and by the way, I DO really like you pierregasly 🤍🤍🥖🥖⭐️⭐️

View 1,230 comments

user SHUT UP OH MY GOD

user no…. NO….. I LOST MY WIFE……

user yn does this mean we’ll get more love songs 🎀

→ yourusername oui ☺️☺️🫰🏼🫰🏼⭐️⭐️

user i just fell to my knees in a walmart parking lot

user what if i just 🪦

user you’re so silly bae 😂😂 you and ur a.i boyfriend 😂😂

→ yourusername sorry x

→ user excuse me where can i get a french a.i boyfriend like u

→ yourusername uhm ask yukitsunoda0511 he got it for me!!!!

user DANCE WITH ME STAYS ON REPEAT

user im throwing up

charles_leclerc Does this mean I can’t take him on dates anymore ?

→ yourusername can i take your girlfriend out? cause then the answer is yes charlie 🦎🦎

→ charles_leclerc 🧐🧐 Maybe….

pierregasly dance with me is the best song in existence ❤️❤️

→ yourusername thank u babe 🤍🤍😊😊🫰🏼🫰🏼

pierregasly I’m glad that I can finally post you

→ yourusername I love you 🥹🤍🤍

user AUATAAHH FINALLY

→ user I WON I WON I WON

→ user MY PARENTS

→ user SCREAMING AND SOBBING SO HARD RIGHT NOW

user they’re so ☺️☺️

user I ALWAYS KNEW U WERE MEANT FOR THAT WAG LIFE QUEEN

→ user wait PLS tell me you’ll be at the races 😭🙏🏼

→ yourusername of course! definitely not all of them but i’ll try my hardest to come 💕😊

Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, and 87,778 others

pierregasly Je t'aime my red panda 🤍

tagged yourusername

View all 767 comments

user HE CAN’T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS 😭😭

user seeing this makes me feel . DISGUSTED

user if you look closely you can see me violently sobbing in the corner.

user you guys are so cute!!!!!!!!! 😂 (i literally just kms)

user always these damn white men

user my parents 4eva

user yourusername when does the love album for pierre come out babes x

→ yourusername feb 7th 🦎

user the 😭 caption 😭. my 😭 red 😭 panda 😭

user pierre how do u feel after pulling the baddest girl ever

pierregasly amazing cause i ❤️ my gf

user yn bae how long has this been going on !!

→ yourusername 50 years

landonorris LET ME GO TO YOUR CONCERTS YN

→ yourusername of course landobum x

charles_leclerc so cute (yuck)

yukitsnoda0511 you’re welcome for setting you up with her 🙄

→ yourusername THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE MOST WONDERFUL BF EVER YUKI ⭐️⭐️🫰🏼🫰🏼

→ pierregasly THANK YOU YUKI!! I’LL BUY YOU ALL THE FOOD YOU WANT🫡❤️

౨ৎ helloooo ! i hope u like this 😁😁 idk what to say tbh cause this is just a re upload …. I WILL TRY TO POST FOR DULCE HOTLINE SOON 🤓 i’ve been kinda busy tho, sorry ☹️😞

[fandomgirlz01]

You Matter Most  Pt. 1

Evan “Buck” Buckley X Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: No  

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Small Series

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,677 

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here.

Post Date & Time: August 24th 2023 at 10:41 PM

Summary: {Based off of S6 E18 Pay it Forward} When a series of freeway accidents lead to a big catastrophe, Buck must worry for his team as he rushes to help them all before it only leads to  an even bigger disaster. All while working on helping his team he worries mostly for his best friend who’s unconscious for most of it. 

Third Person Pov:

“May-day! May-day! Air ambulance two reporting a collapse at the 710 interchange. Firefighters down. Repeat, firefighters down!” A voice comes through Maddie’s coms, making her quickly answer the distress call. 

“Air ambulance two, this is dispatch. Can you reroute to assist?” Maddie asks before pausing, waiting to get an answer. 

“Negative. We have a priority spinal transfer,” the voice solemnly tells her. 

“Do you have a visual on how many firefighters are down?” Maddie asks and there’s a long pause as she waits for the information. 

“All of them— the entire 118. They were on the upper span when it collapsed. They all went down,” the voice tells her in a very worried tone and Maddie’s heart drops. 

Her mind immediately goes to thoughts of her fiancé, brother, and sister-like friend, worried for all three. Her heart beats wildly and suddenly she can hear it in her ears as she types up details on her computer. Tears cloud her eyes for a moment and she tries to will herself not to cry just yet. 

Y/n’s Pov:

I groan as my alarm goes off and roll over onto my back to look at the ceiling. It takes me a few minutes, but soon I’m reaching over to my phone and turning it off. With one last sigh, I push myself up from my bed and start to get ready for the long shift I have to work. 

Once I’m ready, I grab my backpack as well as my morning hot cocoa and keys. I quickly make my way out into the hallway of the complex and lock my door. Just as I lock the bottom lock, I hear Buck’s door open and shut. 

I turn to him and let out a giggle when I see the pure exhaustion on his face. He locks up his door before turning when I giggle and he smiles. 

“You must have had a lousy night, E. You really look exhausted,” I say, using the nickname I’ve had for him forever with humor laced in my tone. 

“Ugh, not exhaustion. More annoyance at the two idiots that won’t make up,” he replies with a roll of his eyes before we both start walking out. 

“I’m sure they’ll make up soon, bubs. Just give it a little more time,” I try to reassure him and he hums, shaking his head at me. 

“Sure. Then maybe I won’t have to deal with Kamron needing me 24/7. Or the smell of pickles. She keeps needing me to open them. Never did I think I’d hate pickles,” he rants with a roll of his eyes and I giggle again. 

“You definitely won’t and I’m sure you’ll like pickles again soon,” I joke with him as I playfully hit my arm against his. 

“Anyway, wanna carpool to work today?” he questions me, now changing the subject. 

“Sure, why not. Anything to hang out with you a little more,” I joke as I bump my arm into his again and he shakes his head, chuckling. 

“As if we don’t already hang out everyday,” he playfully scoffs and I shrug. 

“No, we definitely don’t,” I playfully deny and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Ok, dork. Let’s go. Bobby will kill us if we’re late. Again,” he remarks and I giggle. 

“You got that right,” I agree with him as I roll my eyes while we walk out to his car. 

“Breakfast on the way?” he asks and I smirk. 

“You buying?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow and he groans. 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he playfully growls out like he’s angry when I know he indeed isn’t. 

“Then hell yeah. I'm hungry,” I tell him and he groans. 

“Don’t be like Kameron now,” he says as he rolls his eyes and I laugh. 

“What, pregnant? E, I don’t know if you know how that works, but I kinda need to have some relations before that, and you know I’m not seeing anyone right now…” I playfully tell him and he shakes his head. 

“Of course I know how that works? You know I didn’t mean that. I mean, I was a sex addict, remember?” he asks and I giggle, letting my eyes go wide jokingly. 

“Oh I vividly remember, Mr. Do it on the rooftop of the firehouse. Dumbass,” I joke as I smack his arm and he rubs it. 

“Well, what would you have done?!” he fights back and I laugh. 

“Not on the rooftop, that’s for sure,” I joke back and he rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever. Let’s just get the food and get to work,” he tells me and I giggle. 

“Awe, E, I’m just messing with you!” I inform him and he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, you Gremlin,” he tells me and I giggle, smiling softly at the use of my nickname Buck had given me when we were younger before we split up to get into his Jeep.

“Okay, 118, let’s gather ‘round and settle in. We have some outstanding tasks from our last shift and I’ve got an important announcement about our upcoming weather conditions,” Bobby announces, making me and Buck, who's up on the truck, sit down with our legs hanging off the side. 

“So cute, huh? Oh, wait. I promised her I’d wear it all day. Take a picture so we can…” Chimney talks with one of the other firefighters as they walk out of the locker room. 

“Firefighter Han,” Bobby calls out, cutting Chim off and making him look up from the play ring on his finger. 

“I was gonna save this until the end, but why not make it the first order of business? Congratulations on popping the question,” Bobby announces as he uses his clipboard to point at Howard. 

“Yeah, Chim! Whoo, whoo!” I shout out as everyone else claps while I shake Buck. 

“Ok… ok… a little less shaking, there,” Buck comments as he pushes me lightly, making me giggle softly. 

“Didn’t she do the proposing?” I quietly whisper to Buck, who chortles and nods. 

“She finally made an honest man out of him!” Ravi shouts as he grabs Chimney by the shoulder and shakes him lightly. 

“All right, everybody. Let’s settle down. We still have to get to the weather update,” Bobby calls out and all the laughs die down. 

“All right, apparatus maintenance. Firefighter Diaz will be running point this morning on engine service. We’ll be doing an oil change and a brake fluid change,” Bobby explains as I yawn lightly and lay my head on Buck’s shoulder. 

“Tired?” Buck quietly questions me and I hum at him. 

“Didn’t sleep too well last night. Tossed and turned all night. Don’t know why, just had a weird feeling,” I whisper back to him and he smiles softly before wrapping his arm around my shoulder. 

“Hmm, comfy,” I mummer out as I cuddle in closer and he chuckles softly. 

“Eddie?” Bobby calls out, making us all listen in. “Yeah, cap?” Eddie asks nonchalantly as he looks at his phone. 

“Did Eddie finally find someone?” I quietly question Buck, who shrugs. 

“He didn’t say anything to me if he did,” Buck informs me and I sigh. 

“Then why’s he staring at his phone like a lovesick puppy?” I query and Buck gives a small ‘huh,’ before shrugging. 

“I guess maybe he did. He’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Buck comments to me and I cross my arms. 

“I wanna know now. We’re the three musketeers. Two musketeers can’t just be left in the dust by the other,” I whisper as I cross my arms, pouting and Buck chuckles. 

“You and that impatient ass of yours,” Buck comments and I give him a playful smirk. 

“And you like this ass of mine,” I joke with him, wiggling my eyebrows at him and he shakes his head. 

“Can’t say I don’t,” he plays right back and I giggle before we both turn back to listen in. 

“Apparatus maintenance,” Bobby pointedly comments as Eddie moves into a different sitting position while closing his phone. 

“I’m on it, Cap,” Eddie promises and Bobby nods as Buck’s phone vibrates. 

He quickly silences his phone, but it vibrates again and again. He groans quietly and presses the answer button. 

“Okay. All right, now for the weather update,” Bobby starts as Buck puts the phone up to his ear. 

“Uh, hey, listen, I-I can’t… I can’t talk right now. No, I can’t. Kameron, I don’t know why he’s calling you. Maybe if you answer the phone you’ll find…” Buck talks into the phone and I smirk as Bobby turns around. 

Booby walks over to us on the truck and looks up at us. He gives me an irritated questioning look and I just shrug, making him look at Buck, who trails off. 

“You're in trouble…” I jokingly mutter out as I try to hold in my giggles while poking his side lightly. 

“Umm, I got to go,” Buck tells her and I hold back a giggle at his ‘oops’ tone before hanging the phone up. 

“Uh- s-sor… sorry, Cap. Um…” Buck stutters out his apology, but Bobby just ignores him and turns back around. 

“Alright, folks, listen up,” Bobby again tries to get to the point. 

“Uh, Cap?” Ravi questions, holding his hand up and Bobby gives him an unamused look that tells him to go on. 

“Can I just say, if Buck needs to get the pregnant lady out of his apartment,” Ravi starts and Buck hops down off the truck before turning to me to help me down real quick. 

“I do have a two-bedroom that’s about to be on the market, so…” Ravi finishes as Buck and I walk towards him. 

“Thank you, Ravi! Maybe a discussion for another time,” Bobby humorously chides as everyone laughs a little bit. 

“118, it’s time to dial it in,” Bobby starts to try and corral us in again. 

“We have a Job to do, but in order to do that job, you have to be here. I need precision, I need focus, but most of all, I need you to be present,” Bobby pointedly announces as Hen cautiously walks in and around him to take a seat. 

“Sorry I’m late, Cap,” Hen quickly apologizes as she sighs. 

“Okay! Let’s get cracking,” Bobby finishes before starting to walk off. 

“Hey, wait. What’s the important weather update?” Chimney asks as Bobby walks past him. 

“There’s a moderate marine layer,” Bobby answers, unamused as he continues to walk away. 

“I’ll see you for lunch?” Buck questions and I nod in confirmation. 

“Yeah. That is, if we don’t get a call before then,” I promise him with a small smile. 

“Don’t jinx it,” Buck jokes, pointing at me with a chuckle. 

“Ok. I’ll see you in a-” I start, but the alarm sounds and Buck groans. 

“You jinxed it!” he shouts, throwing his hands up and I giggle. 

“My bad…” I reply with a shrug and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, dork. Let’s get into our gear,” Buck tells me with a grin. 

We both rush over to our lockers and start to put our gear on before running over to the truck. Buck hops in on the left side as I hop in on the right and we get into our seats as Bobby starts to pull out of the garage. Bobby drives throughout town before coming up to the scene on the bridge. Once the engine comes to a stop, we all quickly pile out and get to work. 

“Hen, Chem. Check the driver of this camper van,” Bobby orders as he points to the van. 

“Buck, y/n Eddie, Ravi, I want you guys to check these surrounding vehicles for injuries. Let’s go,” Bobby commands and we all give him a nod before rushing off. 

Buck, Ravi and I walk around, making sure there's no more injuries. Once we deem there are none, we walk back over to help. We stand back as Chimney and Hen communicate with the girl inside. 

“Cap, second victim in the back. She didn’t have her seatbelt on when the accident happened!” Chimney shouts as he looks around the side of the van. 

“Okay, these back doors are obliterated. I want you guys to pull that windshield,” Bobby commands, making Hen and Chimney nod.  

I quickly rush back to the engine and pull out the windshield suction cups as Ravi grabs the pry bars. Once I have them, I rush back to the van with Ravi in tow. I hand the suction cups to Hen as Ravi gives the pry bars to Buck and Eddie. Hen quickly places the suction cups on the windshield and pulls as Buck and Eddie use the pry bars. Once it comes off, Hen quickly passes the windshield to Buck, who takes it and sets it aside. 

“All right. What’s your name?” Hen asks the frightened girl softly. 

“Jo,” the girl cries out her reply. 

“Jo. Can-can you move?” Hen questions the girl and she looks down at her leg. 

“Um, I don’t know. It’s my leg. I think it’s broken. Um, please help her!” Jo cries out again as she looks up at Hen and Chimney with tears cascading down her face. 

“I'm on it, Jo, but I need to get back there, so we’re gonna pull you out. You might feel a little pain, okay?” Chimney calmly explains to her and he moves aside for Hen to get in a bit more. 

“Buck, can you carry her to the ambulance?” Chimney queries and Buck nods, moving behind Hen and getting ready to grab her. 

“Okay! Ahhh!” Jo agrees before screaming out in pain as they move her. She cries as they pull her out of the vehicle. 

Buck quickly lifts her up and carries her over to the back of the ambulance as Chimney moves into the van. Hen quickly stands up and pushes me along with Buck. 

“Go help him look her over. You have more medical training then he does. I’ll stay with Chim,” she commands me and I nod before rushing off behind Buck. 

I quickly help Buck get her down on the floor so I can look over her leg. In one fast fluid motion, I pull out a tourniquet-like brace and start putting it on her leg along with Bobby’s help as they wheel a gurney over. 

“Cap. We’re going to need an air ambulance. Patient is unresponsive, breathing is weak and she’s lost bladder control. Could be a spinal,” Chimney explains over the radio as we continue to work on Jo. 

“Copy that,” Bobby replies as we start to prepare Jo to get her on the gurney. 

“Spinal injury? Is she okay?” Jo asks me in fear and I look at her. 

“We won’t know until we get her to the hospital,” I inform her as they bring the gurney closer, now ready to get her up onto it. 

“Please, please don’t take me now because I need to see her,” she begs as she grips my hand and I pause as Hen walks up. 

“Hey, hey. You’ll be able to before they airlift her. I promise, okay?” Buck promises her before Hen or I can say anything. 

Eddie walks past us with the backboard, headed towards Chimney and we quickly move Jo onto the gurney. Jo keeps a grip on my hand and I squeeze hers before letting go. 

“Don’t worry. You know the firefighter that told you you’d see her?” I ask her and she nods in understanding. 

“That’s my best friend. I know when he promises something, he keeps it. You’ll see her just like he said,” I promise her softly and she gives me a small thankful smile as she seems only slightly less freaked out. 

“My name's y/n. I’ll stay here till your mom’s out, okay?” I tell her and she smiles a thankful smile at me again.

“She’s not my mom. She’s my mom’s best friend. My, uhh, mom passed away three years ago. Mallory was insistent we take this trip as an honor to my mother…” Jo explains to me and I smile softly at her. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. You're very lucky to have Mallory. That sounds like a lovely plan. I’m sure you two can pick up when everyone is okay again,” I try to comfort her to the best of my ability and she shakes her head. 

“No. I think we’ll find a different way of traveling,” Jo informs me and I nod. 

“I would probably do that too. Nothing wrong with that,” I agree with her and she nods in agreement. 

We wait maybe a few more minutes until we see Chimney come out first. Then Eddie pushes Mallory out and together they lift her backboard onto another gurney that was taken over to them. They then start to roll her over and I move over next to Hen so they can roll her next to Jo. 

“She’s right up here,” I hear Chimney inform Mallory as they get closer. 

“Okay, she’s right up here,” he repeats himself as they get closer. 

“Mallory!” Jo shouts when they get closer before coming to a stop right next to her. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jo apologizes as they both reach out to hold hands. 

“I can’t lose you, too,” Jo continues on the verge of tears and I feel tears well up in my eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere. We still have a lot of ground to cover, okay?” Mallory asks her as she squeezes her hand. 

“Next time, we’ll take the train,” Jo insists quickly as the others start to load her in the back of the ambulance as air support flies overhead. 

“Air support. You are clear to land,” Bobby gives the okay through his walkie and soon the helicopter is landing. 

Eddie and Chim start to walk her over to the helicopter and I let out a puff of air as my emotions take over. I take my jacket off in hopes a little air is all I need. I quickly try to sober up so I don’t start sobbing before I feel a hand on my back, making me turn to see Buck next to me. 

“Hey. You doing okay? You’re getting fidgety,” he queries with a raised eyebrow and I shake my head before nodding. 

“Yeah. No. I’m fine. Just had a flashback to my sister, that’s all,” I inform him and he nods solemnly at me. 

“I know. She’s watching over you. You know that,” he solemnly tells me, trying to comfort me as he rubs at my back and I nod, sniffling. 

“Thanks for checking on me,” I say in gratitude and I only hope Buck knows just how much I’m thankful for him. 

“Always, you know that we stick together, right?” he asks me and I smile. 

“Right. Stuck together like glue,” I reply to our life long promise we always tell each other and he smiles, nodding. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go help Chim. We’ll talk more about this later, okay?” he questions me and I nod. 

“Yeah. Go. Go. Do our job,” I agree with a soft smile and he nods before rushing off. 

“Possible spinal! She’s coming over now!” I hear him yell to the air tech that gets out of the helicopter.

“Can’t get rid of me, can you, Buckley?” I hear her voice and I immediately recognize Lucy. Red hot jealousy flares up in me, but I push it away. 

“Great to see you again, for real this time!” I hear Buck shout back as he stops to point at her and I huff, rolling my eyes. 

He turns and walks back towards me, but only frowns as I brush him off. I walk over to Bobby just as Eddie walks up. 

“Hey, Cap, think there’s a propane stove in the van. I’m gonna go check it out,” Eddie explains to him as he walks up to us. 

“Good thinking, Eddie. Y/n, go with him,” Bobby commands me and I nod. 

“Actually Bobby, can I have a quick moment with her?” Buck asks and Bobby shakes his head. 

“I guess. One minute, then back to work. Got it?” Bobby asks and Buck nods. 

“No, yeah, I promise,” Buck informs him and Bobby nods before walking off. 

“Hey, what’s up. Why are you giving the cold shoulder?” Buck asks as he looks at me. 

“It’s nothing, Buck, really. Go back to work,” I play it off and he sighs in frustration. 

“Y/n, I thought we talked about closing up? Talk to me, you know you can,” Buck begs me and I shake my head. 

“Buck. Nothing is wrong, it’s just a hard case. I told you I’d talk with you about it later,” I deflect away from what’s going on. 

“No. I know—” he starts, but gets cut off as the bridge suddenly starts to shake as it cracks down the middle, making both me and Buck fall to the ground with me on top of him. 

There’s more shaking and creaking as the bridge slowly starts to collapse. Buck looks up and suddenly he’s rushing to get up, pulling me with him. 

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey! Let’s move!” Buck yells out as the ambulance comes flying back at us and Buck quickly moves both of us out of the way just in time. 

“Hey!” he continues to shout as the ambulance rushes past us, quickly crashing at an angle. 

Buck quickly maneuvers, but somehow he gets pulled down with the ambulance, making me go with him. He smashes into the ambulance’s windshield and it cracks. 

“Buck!” I yell out as I fly past him, but he doesn’t reply. 

I let out another scream as I come to a landing on a slab of concrete, hitting my head in the process. Pain surges through my side, but I don’t notice it for long as suddenly everything goes black. 

Buck’s Pov: 

I groan as I come to, still laying on the windshield that’s now cracked from me smashing into it. There's a quiet, eerie, metallic creak and it takes me a moment to realize where I am. When I do, I take a moment to push myself up on all fours. I look around in fear for y/n, but there’s no sign of her, so I look into the ambulance next. 

“Hen!” I yell out as I see my friend still strapped into the driver's seat of the ambulance, now unconscious. 

“H-hen, can you hear—” I ask her as I bang on the window. 

“118, report in. I need a headcount,” I talk into my radio, hoping to get any answers. 

“I’m grabbing the ropes,” Ravi radios back first as I look around, trying to assess where everyone could be. 

“I’m in the van. Pretty sure I broke a couple ribs, but this van is about to get pancaked,” Eddie groans out as he radios in and I keep looking around with no sight of y/n. 

“Okay. Eddie, uh. We’re coming to you,” I inform him before taking a pause. 

“Han. What is your status?” I ask into my radio before letting go to get his status. 

“Han, come in,” I practically beg over the radios when he doesn’t answer. 

“Han…” I question again and wait a moment. 

“Han here,” Chimney finally radios in and I throw my head back in relief. 

“Captain Nash, firefighter Maysen, still haven’t heard from either of you. What is your status?” I ask into the radio again, only hoping to get something but nothing comes. 

“Bobby, y/n. Come in,” I repeat through the radio again, but still silence. 

“I see firefighter Maysen! She’s on a slab near you, maybe twenty feet away, just covered by some rubble,” Ravi explains to me through the radio and I sigh in relief. 

“Is she under it?” I question and wait for a moment. 

“No. She’s just close enough to be hidden. She’s out, though, and there’s one other thing…” he voices again though the radio before trailing off. 

“What? Is she okay?” I question him and he takes another pause, making me wait with bated breath. 

“She’s been impaled by a piece of rebar, Buck… right though the side of her stomach. I- if we don’t get to her soon, she might bleed out,” he breaks it to me easily and I sigh, putting my head down for a moment. 

“I’ll get to her as soon as I get Hen and the others out,” I inform him as I make the hard decision to wait, even though I want to rush over to her first and get her out. 

“Ok… only if you're sure. You're acting captain right now,” he informs and I let out a huff before pressing the button on my radio to reply. 

“Yeah, I know. So everyone’s safety is on me right now. Luckily if I can get Hen awake, she can take over. Let’s get to work,” I command before letting the button go, letting out a sigh, and looking down at Hen again. 

“Hen. I’m- I’m coming to you. Just stay right there,” I tell my unconscious friend before I move off the windshield and down the side of the ambulance. 

Very slowly, I make my way to the window and try to shove myself though it. The ambulance starts to tremble as I do, but I keep going. 

“Hen?” I call out to her as I pause for a moment. 

“Chim. Chim! Chim, you back there?” I shout out as I finally slide though the window of the ambulance. 

“I’m alive, but not great,” Chimney calls out in a winded tone. 

“Okay,” I pant out as I move over to Hen. 

“Come on. Hey,” I voice as I try to get Hen to wake up. 

“What happened?” Hen questions as she looks around, confused. 

“Bridge collapsed,” I inform her and her head starts to fall back. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Hen, you with me?” I question her and she squints at me. 

“I’m good. Thank you,” she conveys to me as she starts to reach towards me. 

“You okay?” she asks as she wipes at the side of my forehead. 

“Yeah. Oh. Uh… I mean, physically, yeah,” I tell her, my emotions betraying me ever so slightly as I feel a lump form in my throat. 

“Where is everybody?” she asks me as she continues to clean my face. 

“R-Ravi is up top. Eddie’s in the van. Chimney’s in the back. He needs our help. I’m gonna go up top. Get the ambulance secure. Then we get you out, okay?” I explain to her before asking if she understands. She slowly nods before letting her head fall back a bit. 

“Okay. Where’s Cap? Where’s Bobby? A-and y/n…” she suddenly asks as she quickly lifts her head straight. 

“He’s MIA, and y/n…” I pause and take a deep breath. 

“She’s currently bleeding out maybe twenty feet from us,” I inform her and she just stares at me. 

“You, uhh… y-you’re sure you’re good?” I ask her one last time just to make sure. 

“Yeah. I… I’m-I’m good,” she stumbles out in her shock and pain. 

“Just get some rope so we can get out of here,” she commands me and I nod before starting to try climbing out. 

“Okay, Ravi, I need a line,” I grunt as I call out while climbing out of the window. 

I get about halfway out the window when Ravi throws the rope down to me and I slowly finish pulling myself out. I hold onto the ambulance as I grab the rope before using it to climb back to the front. Once around the front, I continue to climb up the side until I can pull myself up to the top. Ravi hands me a part of the rope and I quickly slide under the engine, tying the rope to the underside of it. I quickly rush back to the side and let out a puff of air when I see what Ravi had seen before. 

The van is under the ambulance and both are close to falling. I let out another breath and close my eyes when I see y/n. She is indeed impaled and blood pools around her as she lays unconscious. 

“Buck, we’ll get to her,” Ravi promises as he puts a hand on my shoulder. 

“Yeah. I know. I’m not letting her go out like this. Not yet. It’s too early and there’s a lot that needs to be said,” I inform as I promise myself in my head that if we make it out, I’ll tell her how I really feel. 

“And it will be said,” he agrees with a head nod before going back over to the truck. 

“Please tell me you made it, Cap,” I whisper to myself as I look out over the scene again. 

“Okay, Ravi. Let’s go!” I shout to him as I turn around, ready to scale the concrete. 

“118, LAPD on scene at the lower level and here to assist,” Athena’s voice comes over the radio just as I hop over, ready to scale down to Hen. 

“118? Captain?” she asks in a scared tone when she gets no response from her husband. 

“Hen! That’s you!” I yell out to her, leaning back a bit. 

“LAPD, this is Wilson. Captain Nash is unaccounted for, we also have one impaled and unconscious. I’m in command. Anything you can do to help survivors on the ground level would be appreciated, ” Hen replies over the radio as I start to quickly scale down with a harness bag. 

“Copy that!” Athena quickly replies again over the radio. 

Once I get down to the ambulance, I set the bag on it and I get closer to the front of it. I quickly tie the rope to the car and pull on it ever so slightly. 

“Hey, Ravi, tension!” I call out to him and I wait a moment before leaning against the ambulance. 

I bounce on it a couple times to see how stable it is and smile when it comes out very stable. I quickly climb back to the top of the ambulance and pull the harness bag in front of me. 

“Okay. Hen, you got a harness and capture strap. Take Chimney and the patient, you send them down,” I explain to her as I throw the strap and harness in the window to her. 

“I’m headed to the van. Then I’ll get y/n. I’ll see you at the bottom,” I inform her of my plan before getting off the ambulance and heading to Eddie. 

It takes me a few minutes, but soon I make it to the van. I come to a stop next to it as Ravi looks over the side. 

“Sending down the saw!” he shouts to me before dropping me the saw bag. 

“Okay, Eddie, you in there?” I ask as I pause and listen in and he gives me a small ‘Yup’ through his groans of pain. 

“Let me get these doors open. Just shield your eyes,” I inform him before I pull the saw from the bag along with the protective glasses and start to saw at the door. 

I work for a few minutes at the door before soon I can start to pull at them. I pull one open and groan as I pause, taking the glasses off to look in at Eddie, who’s trapped under the fridge looking up at me. 

“Hey,” I pant out as I hold onto the door. 

“Any sign of Cap?” he huffs out as he struggles to breathe and I shake my head. 

“How’s y/n?” he asks and I sigh. 

“Currently, she’s bleeding out. I’m getting her next,” I inform him and he nods. 

“Sorry about this,” I apologize as I move closer to him and grab his arms. 

“Yeah. It’s gonna suck,” he comments before I pull on him. 

I pull him out and he yells out in pain as I do. Soon I’m pulling him out of the van all together and he grits his teeth. 

“Okay, I got you,” I comment as I pull him out and quickly we’re climbing down so he can get medical. 

Once he’s down standing on his own feet, some other paramedics come over to us. They get Jo first and Hen groans as she leans over before puking. 

“Hen!” Eddie yells out as we watch her double over. 

“Hey,” Eddie tells me before we both rush over to Hen, who lays flat on top of the truck she’s on. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay,” she groans, waving us off. 

“I’m okay. I’m pretty sure I’m just concussed,” she explains as she sits up and moves her helmet. 

“We got to get Chimney and y/n! We got to get Chimney and y/n!” she suddenly yells out as she looks back up. 

“No. Hey, hey, hey. We’ll get Chimney and y/n. Let’s get you down. Come on,” we both try to stop her as she groans. 

“Come on down. I promise I’ll get him and y/n,” I inform her as we all reach out for her. 

“We got you. We got you. Come on. No rush,” I rant as she finally starts to try and crawl down. 

“Okay. Come on. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go,” Eddie chants as he wraps her arm around his shoulder while she pants out of breath. 

“Eddie, you got her, yeah?” I ask and he nods, giving me a small ‘hmm’ as they continue to walk. 

“Okay. I’m going back for Chim and y/n. I’ll be back,” I promise and he nods. 

Just before I turn, there’s another loud, metallic creaking noise and we all turn around. My eyes widen as the ambulance starts to shake around and the van starts to look like it’ll fall any second. 

To Be Continued…

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[soulofapatrick]

Bleeding Hearts - Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: Jasper finds you on the floor crying and bleeding and patches you up which leads to feelings being admitted

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: blood; cut otherwise fluff and a little angst

Notes: DW I’m still gonna be writing TLOU stories too

Y/N’s POV

I didn’t wanna go back to mine, the place feeling to cramped and closed off which I know would add to all the pent up frustration I’m currently feeling. It’s why I’ve ended up at the Cullen’s house, needing to be somewhere no one will judge me and hey maybe Jasper can use if freaky emotional control on me so I can stop feeling like I want to slam someones head into a table or scream. This week has been non-stop and I just need a fucking break, shoulders tense and heart racing as I let myself in, knowing they’ve got the fridge stocked for me to help myself to anything I want. 

I drop my rucksack with a hard thump, kicking my shoes off and throwing my jacket in the general direction of my bag before heading towards the fridge. I’m moving around the kitchen island too quickly as I feel my elbow connect with the  beautiful glass jar there and just watch it go crashing to the ground, realising a few expletives, “Ahhh! Fucking shitting fuck!” 

The sound of shattering glass grates against my ears as my frustration is turning into overstimulation, the frustration reaching a breaking point that I can’t deal with it anymore. The tears are welling up in my eyes as I sink to my knees to clean up the mess before any of the Cullens get home and see me in this state. It’s like I’m fighting a losing battle and everything is just falling apart around me, the frustration is just so overwhelming and I’m struggling to stop the tears as they stream down my cheeks rather embarrassingly. The Cullens don’t like to leave me home alone after what happened to Bella and Laurent when Bella was human. 

“Y/N?” My head flies up at the sound of a familiar southern drawl to see Jasper standing in the doorway. His usually golden eyes are a bright, almost glowing shade of red and his gaze is intense as they focus on my hands while his jaw pops audibly as if he’s trying to restrain himself. My hands are bleeding, the pain only registering with me as I see the fresh blood dripping down my palms and onto the floors, adding to the mess I’ve made with the jar. The frustration turns into hopelessness as I can’t even clean up without causing more problems, the world conspiring against me and hey, maybe Jasper could lose control and kill me. It’d be the least of my problems at the moment, “Leave the glass, I’ll clear it up. Let’s get you bandaged up.”

The honey blond vampire is swallowing thickly, as if swallowing his urge to give into the bloodlust, before he’s approaching me. He crosses the room in a few quick, human paced, steps to lean down and help me to my feet with his icy hand on my forearm. He’s leading me upstairs and down the very familiar hallway, past my room to the room at the end which is his. I don’t think I’ve actually been in his room in the year I’ve been friends with the Cullens. 

The walls are a soft grey colour, making me think back to him and Emmett running upstairs one day with cans of grey paint a few months into me knowing them all, and there’s a few painting on the walls. There’s photos around the room from different centuries he’s lived through. If I was in a better mood I think I would have laughed at it and teased him as it’s such an odd sense of humour and I like it. He also has a bed which surprises me as they’ve vampires, they don’t sleep. It’s large and comfortable with high quality linens and pillows, a cozy blanket draped at the foot of the bed and a few fuzzy pillows. He’s pushing me onto the bed, making me sit on the edge while he disappears to do whatever, I don’t mind as it gives me time to really take in every detail of his room. 

There’s a vintage dresser, looking like it has been carefully maintained and it just makes me think about how weird it must be to watch the world you were born into develop and change while you… you stay the same. It must be so scary and lonely, watching everything you knew change with only you knowing what it once was. 

Jasper’s returning, med kit in hand and I can feel my heart rate embarrassingly begin to race at the sight of him and I know he hears it as he’s got a small smile on his lips. He doesn’t say a word though, sitting next to me and raising an eyebrow as if to tell me to hold my hands out. I do just that, marvelling at how gentle and careful his touch is. His hands are cold and smooth against mine, the contract between us noticeable and somewhat soothing. 

Despite the stinging pain of the cuts the sensations of his touch is almost comforting and if find myself relaxing under his care. I can feel his fingers brushing against mine and there’s an undertone to intimacy in the way he tends to me. His touch almost hypnotic that I get lost in it, the tension almost palpable and I know he definitely feels it as he’s able to read emotions. I should be embarrassed about Jasper always being able to know exactly how I feel but right now I couldn’t care less because even without vampire abilities I can tell it’s reciprocated and the moment is a gentle one, just between us. 

He’s breaking the tension, southern drawl filled with heat and concern, “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s got you all worked up?” His eyes are fixed on mine, the red having disappeared so they’re that breathtaking golden colour again, like the colour of a sunset on a hot day. The concern in his tone is genuine and I think my heart jumps into my throat when he leans closer to me. 

“I-I really don’t know.” I reply softly, feeling stupid that I got so worked up over something that I don’t even know what it was. He’s leaning even closer, icy hands sliding up my shoulders around my shoulders as he pulls me into a hug that draws a sound of surprise from me. His embrace is warm and full of comfort despite how naturally icy cold his body is as it’s pressed to mine. The scent of the vanilla shampoo he uses on his wavy blond hair and the rich and musky scent that is just Jasper, makes me almost dizzy. 

Being so close to a vampire like this I feel completely safe and secure. His nose is buried in the crook of my neck and his cool breath against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Vampires have no need to breath but it just seems a force of habit for the Cullens as they’ve integrated themselves into mortal society. I know how hard this must be for him, controlling his bloodlust being so close to my jugular but I don’t feel scared in any way. The moment feels intimate and special, feeling an embarrassing surge of romantic attraction towards him as I want to stay in his arms forever. 

The small smile I feel against my neck lets me know he can sense my emotions and a gasp is ripped from my throat when those cold lips press to my neck before he’s pulling back. Those golden eyes have darkened a little, full of unmistakable desire and passion. My heart is trying to break through my ribcage when he moves his hands to my cheeks, pulling me forwards until those same lips are soft against mine. I’m caught off guard as I never though Jasper would actually make a move, given his reputation for not being able to control his lust of human blood yet, making the kiss somewhat overwhelming. 

The kiss is oh so gentle and calculated as if he’s holding back so he doesn’t hurt me, thumbs stroking my cheeks softly as my own fly to his chest, feeling the coolness of his skin and the hard muscles beneath his shirt. My whole body feels electrified, tingling with anticipation and a satisfaction that I’ve not felt kissing other boys. His lips are surprisingly soft and cool against mine, mouth opening slightly so he can slide his tongue over my bottom lip. I’m parting them for him, our tongues meeting and the passion intensifying in a flood of warmth and I’m sure if Jasper knows he’s using his powers or not as we lose ourselves in the moment. 

Hands move from my cheeks, one to grip my waist almost painfully and the other tangling in my hair as he tilts my head back to deepen the kiss even more. I’m pressing against his chest lightly and he loosens his grip on my hair so I pull back enough to gasp for air and he’s chuckles low and rich, southern drawl strong and going straight between my legs, “Sorry doll, I forgot you need to breathe.” 

“Jasper.” His name slips from my lips in a whine and his eyes darken even more, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s yanking me forwards again, lips crushing against mine and I’m melting into his embrace as I can feel how careful he’s being with me despite how much sexual tension and want there is between us. He’s shifting his body over me, the hands in my hair and on my back are laying me down. 

My body feels so alive with the comfortable weight of him above me as he moves his lips down my neck and sucking gentle hickeys into the skin. His lips trailing down my neck is a new sensation that has my hips raising and searching for some form of friction, drawing a low sound from him. It’s amazing, being able to finally express all these feelings I’ve had kept hidden for so long, letting his feel the love and want for him. My fingers running through his surprisingly soft hair, pulling him closer to me, wanting Jasper to be the only thing on my mind. 

Suddenly, a low sound escapes my lips and Jasper’s replying with a small laugh as his hand in my hair moves to cover my mouth as he whispers, “They’re back darlin’.” 

“Jazz,” I can’t stop the whine as he breaks away from me, letting me catch my breath and regain my composure before we go down and greet the rest of the Cullens. I feel so empty and longing and I don’t care if everyone hears with their vampire hearing when I grip the front of Jasper’s shirt and yank. It catches him off guard, a surprised sound rumbling in his throat as he tumbles on top of me again, arms catching himself before he hurts me, “Jazz.” 

“I know sweet girl, I know,” He coos softly, fingers brushing the stray strands away from my face, his gaze so loving it steals the air from my lungs and I’m flushing hot, “Come on, we gotta go talk to them.” 

“They can hear us.” I protest quietly and he’s chuckling fondly again, head falling to my shoulder. 

“There is glass and blood on the floor.” Jasper reminds me and I groan in protest but let him move away, watching him as he’s now standing beside the bed. His tall and lean figure towering over me and I should be scared but all I feel content. He runs a hand through his tousled blond hair, causing it to fall into a charmingly disheveled way across his forehead. His golden eyes are filled with tenderness and concern as he gazes down at me, taking in my flushed and flustered appearance, chiseled jaw set in a determined expression, as if he's ready to protect me from anything that might cause me harm. Despite his vampire nature, there is an undeniable warmth and humanity in his features that make you feel safe and loved.

He reaches down and helps me to my feet, placing a soft kiss to my forehead before holding my face in his hands and looking me in the eyes promising me he will always look out for me no matter what. A sense of comfort washes over me as he wraps me in a strong embrace that has me knows he means every single word and no matter what any of his family says he will always stay by my side. 

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Can He Sing?

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): None?

—————————————

“We’re ready when you are.”

“I’m good. Trev?”

“Uh yeah… I think so.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Filming.”

“Hello! I’m Macy Grey and today we’re here with the singer-songwriter who brought you the famous album Silly Love Songs. And her lover Trevor Zegras from the Anaheim Ducks. On behalf of myself and the studio I want to thank you both for coming out today.”

“Of course! I love getting in touch with interviewers. Especially from locally known studios.”

“When I was informed you were in town for the All Stars, I wasn’t sure if you’d have the time, but I’m so happy you were able to fit us into your schedule.”

“Absolutely. I should be thanking you for letting Trevor come though. I know your forte isn’t exactly hockey players.”

Large studio interviews were a waste of time. It was something I always resented, and something that even morally never agreed with me. Large studios only wanted to get news first to make the most money. Smaller places offered a more personal environment and a more comfortable atmosphere. It was the only reason why I had invited Trevor along. I didn’t want him involved too much in the social half of my career, mostly because the industry and jealous fans could be cruel to artists’ lovers. But I reasoned with myself that one interview wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone like Macy Grey. She was always so kind and open to friends, family, or significant others of musicians.

“To kick us off, I’d love to talk more on the exact reason why you’re in town. Everyone is aware of your successes, but let’s fill the crowd in on Trevor’s.”

“Where to start?” I glanced at Trevor, who let out that awkward wheezy laugh. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but this was a new thing for him. Usually hockey interviews happened when there were loads of other people around. These interviews were far more private. “He was voted in as one of the players this year to play in the All Stars, and he’s competing in a few skills competitions as well. He won a gold medal with Team USA one year before the NHL, he attended Boston University before being drafted.. what else?” I hoped to get him to join in, but Trevor looked fairly comfortable letting me do all the talking. I could fix that though.

“Trevor was voted most likely to cry in a haunted house this year for team superlatives.” I smirked as soon as I heard him gasp.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Trevor cut in. “I’m not a baby, write that down.” He pointed toward Macy, as if the woman had some sort of notepad in her hands. “I’m just jumpy. It’s normal.” His blue eyes shifted toward me with a playful glare, Macy laughed softly at the exchange.

“Well, Trevor. It seems like you’re a pretty successful person yourself. Would you mind me asking how you two met?”

“Oh I love this story.”

“Me too,” Trevor chimed in, crossing his legs one over the other, and leaning forward like a kid during story time.

“So, I was in New York for a performance in MSG, and the Ducks were in town too for a game” I smiled, leaning back in my chair and trying to get comfortable. “My best friend had joined me for the eastern leg of the tour at the time, so we decided to go out for drinks downtown. My favorite bar in the city is 230 Fifth Rooftop Bar. So my best friend, Shelby and I, we just got two glasses of champagne and settled at a high table to watch the sunset. We’re minding our own business.. for the most part, but there’s this group of guys that are just carrying on. They’re loud and obnoxious and they look like your stereotypical frat guys. At one point Shelby had enough, and she got up to go yell at them.” I peeked at Trevor, his smile growing wider. He knew very well that this was the part where he came in. “So Shelby’s yelling at that group of guys, and I finally got up to go wrangle her. And just as I’m approaching.. I kinda stopped and asked myself if it was a good idea. Shelby doesn’t like to be told to stop much. Then I hear this voice right next to me. Scared the shit out of me. And the voice goes, “She yours?” I laughed softly, as did Macy.

“I apologized profusely for her behavior, and-“

“But I told her I wasn’t the one getting yelled at. So it didn’t bother me.” Trevor cut in with a toothy grin. “Then I bought her another glass of champagne and the rest is history.”

“Don’t forget about the part where you booked your hotel room for an extra night to see me perform.” I teased, “And bribed security into getting backstage to see me and ask for my number.”

“Those details don’t make me sound as cool though,” Trevor whined.

“That’s a really sweet story.” Macy chimed in.

“Thank you.”

“So he asked for your number, but who asked who out?”

“To simplify a long story, Trevor was beating around the bush too much for a little while, so one night be brought me flowers before an away game and I told him when he got back, we were going to go on our first date as an official couple.” Macy and I laughed in unison.

“And were there any arguments to that demand?”

“Not from me, no.” Trevor giggled. “I was more than happy to put a label on it.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Two years. Three at the end of All Star Week.”

“How adorable! You guys must be a strong couple then.”

“Oh one hundred percent.” Trevor smiled as he spoke.

“Now, the question on everyone’s minds is.. can he sing?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.” I corrected Trevor ruthlessly. “He thinks he can.. but he can’t.” I chuckled, glancing at the sandy blonde to see his look of pure betrayal.

“Does that mean we won’t be hearing any duets?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I answered slyly, earning a surprised look from Macy. “Trev is featured on the album.. speaking. His features are mostly just backtracks.”

“I know this may be asking a lot but- is there any chance we could get a sneak peek at that?”

“For you Macy? I would love to.” I watched the girl’s eyes light up. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my files, scrolling through for a moment before I stood and dragged my chair closer to the woman’s.

“This song is called Spellbound. It was actually the first song I produced for this new album. I took some of my inspiration from the song Witchy Woman by the Eagles. The reason being, this was written during halloween, and that is just one of my favorite spooky songs. For this piece, I wanted it to feel supernaturally devoted to Trevor. Like.. kind of like.. like a love where one person idolizes the other, but not necessarily in an obsessive or toxic way. I think the lyrics and the tune teetering on the edge of insanity really adds to the supernatural edge and it also makes this song unique to Trevor. I can’t say I’ll ever produce another song like this, nor do I think anyone else will. Classic rock isn’t exactly my genre, nor do I plan for it to be. So this track really sticks out. Which is the main reason why I chose to give this song its own cover art. And I’ll be releasing it as the first single.” It was a lot of information to offer, but I was very passionate about the things I dedicated to Trevor. Especially this song.

Most of my music got old after constantly rerecording lyrics and harmonies, or sorting out instruments. But this song never did. I loved it through and through.

“This sounds amazing and so.. intricate. How long did it take in total from thinking of the idea to finalizing the song?”

“A full month maybe? I hadn’t been exactly itching to make a new album, so I knew if I was going to, my basis for it was going to have to be amazing. And I think I did a fairly good job.” I paused. “I hope so..”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. Let’s hear it!”

I wasted no time in playing the track, a steel guitar and stylized keyboard opening the musical scene. I was a person who loved using clips of recordings in my music, whether it was from everyday life, or a random video in my camera roll, or even if I took the recording of the sound specifically for a song. It was one of my many musical signatures, but the one I was most known for. Atop the smooth music, came the faded clinging of pans, and Trevor’s soft voice. “I can’t wait for you to be home.. Fuck I miss you so much.” It had been a voicemail, but my sound producers managed to give it a more authentic feel, as if someone was in the room with him recording instead of it being spoken into a phone mic. The music itself was fairly calm and collected. Certain instruments helped it sound taboo and old, but the lyrics were the driving factor that made it sound almost insane. A part of me worried my audience wouldn’t take to the song well, but Macy seemed enthralled from the start of the track.

I eyed her expressions carefully through every second, smiling to myself when she seemed particularly intrigued by a section. And I had to admit, it boosted my ego to hear Trevor not too far off in his own chair humming the song to himself. I could live with myself if everyone hated the song, as long as he loved it.

Near the bridge, Trevor’s voice returned, “I’m gonna keep you forever.” This section had been specifically recorded in the studio, and despite my endless attempts to get him to take it seriously, he had giggled at the end of every take. Eventually I settled on knowing I wouldn’t have it the exact way I wanted it, and we used the take with the least amount of amusement in his voice. At the end of the day when we put it all together, his laugh only ended up adding to the crazy feel of the song.

Near the end of the track, Macy finally spoke up.

“This is the weirdest and most mentally satisfying song I have ever heard.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really?”

“You’re so right, it sounds nothing like what you usually produce, but it still has your essence in it. You can tell it’s your songwriting. I think this song is going to be crazy successful. And I also think having Trevor on it is going to make people go nuts” I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of that. I knew my fans would love to see Trevor featured.

“Thank you so much. I’m so excited to release the song.” I admitted with a slight grin.

“I’m just excited that I’ll be able to listen to it without having to say “babe can you sing me that song” every time I wanna hear it.” Trevor teased, causing my cheeks to flush as our eyes met.

“You don’t like her singing to you?” Macy joked.

“God no. I love it when she sings. I just hate how much I get made fun of when I ask her to do it.” The three of us laughed.

“Sounds to me like you have a pretty devoted girlfriend.”

“She did write a weirdly obsessive song about me.” Trevor agreed pridefully. “The first of many, right babe?” His question made my brow rise in surprise.

“We’ll see, Ziggy.”

“That’s a good answer. Can’t give too much away just yet.” My eyes trailed back to Macy. Our time was drawing to a close. “I hate to cut us short but I think we’re reaching our limit. And I know you have your own tight schedule today.” She paused. “I really wanna thank you again for making enough time to come out. It means a lot.”

“Mace, I think I speak for the both of us when I say we had so much fun being here. You always conduct the best interviews.” The woman blushed.

“We can come back anytime.” Trevor added, catching me off guard.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer the next time you’re in town.” Macy grinned. “I hope you both enjoy the All Stars, and rock the red carpet of course.”

“Thank you so much. We definitely hope to.”

“I’ll be watching on tv.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

“Also because I want [Nino] to be more narratively important but that is a rant for another day.” And will that day be someday soon? Wink wink nudge nudge :3c

I am happy to give Nino some love, but before we do, we need to talk about how badly canon has failed him. The reason we need to have that talk is that the love I'm going to give is far more headcanon-y than I usually go in these analysis posts. For most characters, I can give a strong canon-based argument for a core characterization. For Nino? Well, I am pulling this stuff from canon, but I wouldn't exactly label it a "strong" argument. There are even elements of my take on Nino that you could label "grasping at straws".

And I'm happy to own that! I delight in giving Nino all the love he deserves even if it doesn't perfectly match canon, but that means that my Nino is less me leaning into the best parts of canon and more me shifting through canon, grabbing a few shinny bits, and weaving them into something that you may not agree with because my vision for Nino is to elevate him to match Alya in terms of narrative importance because I want the team show season two promised me even if I have to make it myself!

And if you don't want that? Then that's fine! I'm not arguing that everyone should adopt this take. My version of Nino is about as close to an OC as I get when writing fanfic. So let's get into it and talk about why I had to do that. (Also note that I have nothing against OCs. It's just that, when it comes to my own writing, I try to reserve them for original fiction or for very minor roles that no canon character could fill. Totally a matter of personal preference and not some sort of judgement.)

The Many Ways that Canon has Done Nino Dirty

If we look at what is arguably the main group of friends - Alya, Marinette, Adrien, and Nino - then we can see a clear base concept for the first three. Alya is the plucky reporter. Marinette is the headstrong leader. Adrien is the sweet goofball. Nino is... Alya's boyfriend? Adrien's best friend? Chris' older brother?

This is the problem that I was referring to above. Alya, Adrien, and Marinette have clear roles that you could pick out by just watching Origins. Nino doesn't. He doesn't even speak in part one and part two gives him all of six lines. These lines establish him as a nice guy since they're all about him being kind to Adrien, but that's about it. Here's one of them as an example:

Miss Bustier: Agreste, Adrien? Nino: (quietly to Adrien) You say "present". Adrien: (jumps up with his hand raised) Uh, present!

This is a cute moment for sure, but when I look at it, I can't tell you who Nino is supposed to be other than a nice guy, which isn't much to go on. Nice guys can fit a lot of roles.

This isn't necessarily a flaw. Some characters have roles that are immediately obvious and some characters don't. This second class of character usually just has a more complex role that will be discovered and defined based on their actions as the story goes on. However, because Miraculous' writing is all over the place, Nino gets screwed. Instead of his actions defining his nebulous role, his actions make his role impossible to pin down! Here are a few examples:

Nino the Protector:

Season two was big on the idea that miraculous had to be suited to their holders. That's why Chloe kept getting the bee as we saw in Malediktator:

Marinette: I must choose someone who's not impressed by people in power. Who can help me trap Malediktator. Huh?! Of course! That's it. (reaches for the Miraculous of the Bee)

And why did Nino get the turtle in Anansi?

Marinette: I need a protective Miraculous. (gasps, and points at the Turtle Miraculous Master Fu is wearing) That's the one I need, Master! (Master Fu gasps) Uh, if it's okay with you. Master Fu: (smiles at Wayzz, who nods to him) Do you have someone in mind, Marinette?  Marinette: Actually, I think I found just the right person.

Okay, cool, we finally have a strong defining trait for Nino! He's a protector! Or, at least, he was here. Other episodes go directly against this role such as this nonsense from Illusion:

Nino: What's up is Ladybug and Cat Noir don't have us to help them anymore. Alya: (nervously) Um, um— uh— what do you mean, "us"? Nino: Well, us, you Rena Rouge, me Carapace! (Alya kicks his leg underneath the table) Ouch! What's the big deal? We can tell Marinette and Adrien we used to be superheroes.

This first issue with this episode is that we see Nino out his and Alya's secret identities without her permission even though the resistance did NOT require an identity reveal to be a thing. In other words, our supposed protector is taking a big risk for no reason. Then he goes and does this:

Nino: Hence my plan. We're gonna film an akumatization. Alya: And how are you, Comrade Ketchup, gonna be in the know when and where this akumatization takes place? Nino: Easy, Comrade Beurre Maître d'Hôtel. I'm gonna make it happen.

Which leads to the four friends antagonizing Gabriel even though Nino knows how complex Adrien and Gabriel's relationship is. A move that makes no sense for a supposed protector because Gabriel was far from their only option. Nino could have picked anyone, but he went with the riskiest candidate possible, exposing his best friend to a potentially massive backlash.

Nino also doesn't even try to contact Ladybug and Chat Noir prior to this insane plan, thereby putting the whole city at unnecessary risk! What kind of protector purposely causes an akuma without also coming up with mitigation strategies to minimize the resulting damage?

Everything Nino does in this episode should disqualify him from ever holding the turtle again or, at the very least, he should have to redeem himself before holding the turtle again. This is especially true since he never apologizes for anything he did in Illusion and this is just one example of the issue. It's actually kind of hard to find moments where Nino acts as a protector even though he holds the miraculous of Protection. So is he supposed to be a protector? Who knows!

Nino, The Empath:

That first example was long, so we'll pick two quicker ones to flesh this out. The first one is how Nino and Adrien's relationship is defined. In Origins and the New York Special Nino is written as a kind and sensitive guy who is acting as Adrien's guide to dating and other elements of the real world:

Nino: Yup. I love Adrien, but he's like a baby chick that's just started cracking out of his egg. He has a hard time understanding the signals people send him. Alya: What signals? Marinette isn't exactly sending them clearly. I mean, look! What is she doing with her arms? Telling him what to do in case of an emergency landing or something? Nino:(sighs) If only this trip could help Adrien finally come out of his shell.

But then you have episodes like Animan where Adrien is Nino's guide to dating:

Nino: Shhh! You know I'm no good with the ladies, especially this one all of a sudden. I mean, dude, do I go up to her and crack her a joke? Shoot her a compliment? Invite her to the zoo? Play it serious? Adrien: Nino, you're way over-thinking this. "Invite her to the zoo", you serious? Nino: Well, they have this really cool new exhibit there. Adrien: Listen, just be yourself, man.

And episodes like Illusion (discussed above) and Psycomedian (see below) where Adrien is deeply uncomfortable and Nino doesn't notice:

Nino: See, dude? I told you! Hilarious, right? Adrien: Uh... (laughs nervously) Right! Really funny, Nino. Nino: I gotta show you his other sketches. It's insane that you don't know Harry Clown! (laughs)

Which might work if these episodes were about Nino learning a lesson, but they're not. Nino learns nothing, so is he generally in tune with others or is he kind of oblivious to other peoples' feelings? And why did Nino ever think that Adrien was a good source of romantic advice if he also thinks that Adrien is "a baby chick"? Pick a lane people!

Nino's Hobbies

Our final source of confusion is trying to define what Nino even enjoys doing. Horrificator and Queen Banana have him playing around as an amature film maker, but we also see him acting as an amature DJ with the wiki even claiming that he's the head of the school's radio station. So which of these things is his passion? Movies or music?

To be clear, I think it's fine to have multiple passions, but this is a story. You want to keep your characters' non-story-relevant hobbies kind of simple, especially when the character in question is a relatively minor side character who rarely gets much screen time. It's why Alix is only really into roller skating and why Nathaniel is only really into art. You don't want them to be more complex than that.

Even the main characters get this "keep it simple" treatment with Marinette only really being into fashion and Alya only really being into her blog. The girls don't need two demanding passions that would eat up all of their free time, but that's what Nino gets! Film and music are both incredibly demanding passions and it's hard to balance a character who is into both who is also an active superhero. That's a lot for one dude to do well!

I've actually seen fics that cast Nino as wanting to be a director and fics that make him want to be a professional DJ because canon really isn't clear about this pretty basic aspect of his character, but you do need to pick a lane when writing anything that gives Nino a career and so people seem to pick a passion at random.

My Version of Nino

By now, we're hopefully in agreement that canon has made a mess of Nino's character to the point where it's near impossible to say "this is who Nino is supposed to be." However, if you want to write Nino, then you do kind of have to pick a characterization to go with, so here's what I've come up with. Feel free to embrace it or reject it, but know that you will pry my version of Nino out of my cold dead hands because I utterly adore him.

Since Nino is Carapace, I base everything about him around the concept of "protect and defend" because he needs to feel like he deserves his heroic alter ego. I do not want to make canon's mistake of giving him a miraculous that massively contradicts his writing. Especially when that writing makes him feel interchangeable with other characters. At this point, no one from canon screams "turtle miraculous" unless you want to give it to Adrien since he's Ladybug's defender.

I also designed Nino around Alya and Adrien as those will arguably be his most important relationships. He should feel like a perfect fit for boyfriend and best friend respectively. I also took Marinette into consideration because he's going to be part of her team/friend group, so he should work with her, too.

What all that means is that I basically said "okay, this is where Nino is supposed to fit in the story and this is the dumpster fire that canon gave us, how do I pull pieces from the fire and paste them together to make a character that fits who Nino should have been?"

To really get into my version of Nino, I'd almost have to give you a fic to read, but that's way too much for a Tumblr post, so let's keep this high-level and just look at some of my notes on Nino from my lore Bible:

Nino is a major audiophile. He loves listening to music and watching movies/TV shows to study how they play with sound. He wants to be an audio engineer when he's older, but he also has a general passion for all things music and film. He’ll listen to any genre and watch almost any movie or show. He loves to take charge of the music at events so that the music really fits the crowd (and so it sounds good). It isn’t unheard of for him to go see an unknown band or an odd indie film on his own. This will become a major bonding point for Nino and Adrien because of the influence of Adrien's mother. Nino has seen all of Emilie's films and loves them. It will also bond him and Alya as his knowledge of film making will allow him to help her learn the art of filming now that she's doing complex things like actions shots and editing together multiple recordings.

Nino is generally pretty laid back and likes to hear people out. His reaction to confrontation is to try to calm everyone down so that they can get to the heart of the issue. He wants everyone to get along, but he's also not going to let someone take the blame when they shouldn't. Nino protects the innocent.

Nino is incredibly protective of the people he loves. If someone he cares about is in danger, his peaceful nature goes straight out the window. He’s the kind of person who would happily take a bullet for his friends and family. This will lead to him following Alya around once the hero stuff starts because he wants to keep her safe. Never let Alya go out alone if Nino is around or even just aware that a fight is happening. Alya thinks "scoop" and Nino thinks "my Alya sense is tingling." He's NOT there to stop her from doing what she loves, he's just there to be her spotter who lets her focus on filming while he watches for danger, though that will initially be a struggle for him. Treat this as his audition/training for Carapace where he learns to balance protective instincts with getting the job done so that he's ready to perfectly take on his miraculous.

When Nino’s folks split up, his mother insisted that the kids should go to therapy to help process things. They had individual and family counseling. Nino was actually pretty cool with the divorce as he’d seen it coming, but his brother was really affected by it, so Nino spent his time working on ways to help Chris (and being told that he was a brother, not a parent, but he still wanted to help). He learned a lot from going through it and it’s why he’s so good at dealing with emotional issues. He’s also good at not taking those burdens on himself. He wants to help, but knows that it's your battle. Marinette often looks to Nino for guidance on emotional issues because she knows that she's terrible at navigating them. She has given him full permission to stop her when she's too focused on solutions over support. All of the friends will help Adrien figure out social situations, but Nino will be the main guide as he's the one with the strongest skills in that area. Plus Adrien makes Nino's protective big brother instincts go crazy.

Nino’s a bit of a loner by choice. He has "weird" hobbies that easily lend themselves to being done alone and he doesn't have any interest in "forcing" his hobbies on someone who doesn't actually enjoy them, so he spends a lot of time by himself and rarely invites others to share in his interests. He only does that when he thinks that they'll actually enjoy what he's sharing. He doesn’t mind this, but he’s also a very welcoming individual who doesn’t like to see people left out, so he’ll come out of his shell when he sees someone who needs a friend. This usually leads to him making friends who soon become closer with others, but still view him as a casual friend. He’s cool with that. He's just happy that they found their people. Adrien will be the first friend who really stays Nino’s due to an understanding of Nino’s “weird” hobbies. After all, Adrien’s the son of an actress. He’s used to weird indie films and discussions of cinematography. I'd even say that he revels in it and realizes that he has missed it desperately since his mom got too sick to do that kind of thing. Basically, Nino will fill a spot in Adrien's heart that Adrien didn't even know was empty. Adrien can listen to Nino talk about cinematography for hours and never get bored. Before Adrien, no one knew that Nino was this talkative!

If anyone wants more insights into this topic, feel free to send an ask, but I think we'll call this post done now because it's SUPER long.

[ganondoodle]

so guess what they released more interviews and i think given what a writing shitshow totk was and what they have been saying in all these interviews is actually painting a really bad picture; i dont have the time, nor the energy to go over every detail

but they were commenting on people wanting the more linear format back and aonuma himself basically said that he thinks people who feel like that do so only bc of nostalgia and "Why do you want to go back to a type of game where you're more limited or more restricted in the types of things or ways you can play?"

what .. the fuck, more freedom DOESNT automatically mean better??? like ... restriction can be a GOOD thing just as tooo much freedom can be BAD?? like in totk??? are you fukcing shitting me- what the hell are games even for then, has he had an awakening to the fact that he actually just loves sandbox games without realizing it???? im not playing fucking zelda for a sandbox, especially not when its advertised as a somethign else

its pretty clear that they want to keep this format going with everything they say there, ... maybe it really is over huh

also i hate how they kept talking around answering anything about story/lore; they go asked how ganondorf even connects to ganon since theres nothign about it in game, and all they got out was welllll we dont wanna say anything bc its up to the player; about every question you got the answer of "make somethign up yourself" which is just ... its really clear they dont actually care but dont want to say everything is meaningless actually, so they try to be vague about it and with doing that really just confirm they didnt think about it and they dont care- so no lore actually matters, nothing thats been said or established has any meaning bc they will get rid of it the second it crosses paths with their new -more freedom equals better- philosophy, they say its bc they want you to be "free" to think up anything but apparently dont realize that when there are no rules, no consistent lore or anything that it ROBS it, it stops having meaning, its fun to connect dots only when there are rules you need to work with and dots to connect in the first place, when you have an established world with its restrictions it drives you to think more creatively about things- but when there are no rules?? its fucking boring!! thats what it is!!

when you discard all rules i wont care to get invested into anything bc i know it will not be considered again, be done away with without any reason and wont have influence on coming or previous games ... bc there are no rules, anything is possible and everything can be changed any second, so nothing matters

(they also talked about the many viral videos of those very few dedicated people that make godzilla mechs in totk and how happy they are about that- i get that to some extent, but the way they kept talkign about it really just felt like it confirmed my suspicion that that whole mechanic was mainly implemented to let people do that since that gets shared around en masse making it seem like that is why people enjoy it while neither the game nor the narrative are build around it in any way ..)

it just makes all the time i spend thinking, feeling and theorizing about zelda like a true waste of time, bc nothing matters and there are no rules-

i am someone who greatly enjoys working with and around established lore/rules, its fun to me to recontextulize things by being smart or creative with it all without breaking anything or as little as possible of the established things!

if i wanted to do just do anything i want I COULD HAVE ALREADY DONE THAT bc theres nothing actually stopping anyone to just make up what they want! i DONT need canon to lose all rules for that??!!

maybe ill have to make myself believe the franchise ended with botw on a good note ... ono

[morganbritton132]

My friend is a high school teacher, and the other day, he told us this story of when one of his students said, "Going 90." And proceeded to type his chair AND his desk to the side aka 90°. The kid landed on his side and got out his paper to start working. He said, "I think better this way." And my friend just had no clue what to do, lol.

I could help but think of Steve just standing there with his hands on his hips, trying to hide his laughter with a look of disappointment. And one of the other students gets it on film. So Eddie sees it and starts doing it everywhere as a joke.

The whole class is in on it which is how it ends up on TikTok for Eddie to see.

Mr. H hasn’t been in a bad mood per se, but there’s something off about him that his whole sixth period has picked up on. It’s not the low energy tiredness that sometimes lingers after he misses a day of work because of a seizure or the tense stiffness that’s present when he’s trying to work through a migraine.

It’s something else. It’s like he’s…sad.

He just seems really sad and the students do not like it, so sixth period looks towards their class clown and Jeremy says, “No problem, guys. I got this.”

They are waiting in anticipation as the class starts.

Steve takes attendance, nothing. He passes out a worksheet and notes, nothing. He starts the lesson and nothing happens until Steve asks, “Can anybody tell me what the characteristics of a right triangle are?”

There’s a moment of hesitation as everybody waits to see if that’s the moment but when Jeremy doesn’t do anything, Annalise answers, “One of the angles is ninety degrees.”

“That’s ri-“

“Going 90, Mr. H!” Jeremy shouts from the back of the classroom and then proceeds to yeet his desk, his chair, and himself sideways onto the floor.

The reverberation of the desk hitting the tile echoes around the room, followed by a round of giggling as Jeremy casually gets his spiral notebook and a pencil. He presses both of them to the desk so they don’t fall.

He’s writing his name at the top corner of his worksheet when he sees Mr. H’s shoes approach. His socks match his tie today. Jeremy thinks that’s very stylish of him. He mentions it.

Steve makes a strangled noise and when Jeremy looks up at him, he sees that he has his hands steepled in front of his face like he’s praying for patience. At the angle that Jeremy’s at, he can see Steve pressing his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh.

Finally, he puts his hands on his hips and asks, “Why?”

“I’m putting myself in the mindset of a right angle so I can learn better,” Jeremy answers and Steve presses his lips together again. He shakes his head so Jeremy presses on, “It’s like method acting but for math. I’m becoming the angle. There’s like, a whole bunch of research and stuff about it online.”

Steve’s shoulders shake when he asks, “That so?”

“Yep, Mr. H. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.”

“Yeh, that’s up,” Steve composes himself. “That’s hypoten-news to me.”

The whole class groans.  

Eddie rolls his eyes at the pun but laughs at the three different videos he sees of the interaction. He thinks it’s hilarious and he thinks it’s even funnier when Steve retells the story later. He comments on one of the videos, “V funny, gonna steal this.”

A few days go by and then Eddie posts a Tiktok that’s just a compilation of him shouting ‘Going 90’ and Steve scrambling to catch him before he falls over. With each clip, Steve’s reaction gets slower and slower.

The first time Eddie does it, Steve drops everything he’s holding to stop Eddie tipping the barstool he’s on onto the floor. The second time, he follows Eddie into the grass when he goes 90 off the deck. The fifth time, Steve bear hugs him before he can get the phrase out. The fifteenth time, he just lets Eddie fall. 

[marvelouslizzie]

i wanna ruin our friendship

summary: James “Bucky” Barnes is a famous actor who just turned 40. He’s getting old and struggling with the fact that he isn’t what he used to be. When he finally opens up to you about how he’s struggling with body image, you assure him in a very unexpected way. Things take a turn after that point.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (Celebrity Bucky Barnes x Actress Reader)

word count: 4.1K

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, long period of friendship, unspoken feelings, minor jealousy, alcohol consumption, body image struggles (Bucky is just struggling because of Hollywood’s unrealistic body standards), fear of aging and losing who you are, misunderstandings, pet names, slight dirty talk and praising if you squint, no use of a condom (the reader is on birth control), Bucky is 40 while the reader is 37, no use of y/n.

a/n: I was reading one of Sebastian’s old interviews where he mentions body dysmorphia and how it affects him. It inspired me to write this story. I hope you like it.

The story is beta-read by my dear @notafunkiller. Thank you so much!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated.

The after-party is buzzing with energy. The room is crowded with so many familiar faces, you can’t even start naming everyone even if you tried. Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in a place like this, then you remember that you are an actress, too. It feels surreal because you were planning to stay a theater actress until you found your big break unexpectedly on the big screen.

That’s actually how you met James Barnes, your first on-screen partner. That’s how everyone called him, but you and a few close friends were always calling him Bucky. It makes you feel special. You look at him and see how he’s talking to Natasha Romanoff, his current partner. They are taking pictures together. You are sure it is meant to be shared by Natasha on her Instagram.

You find yourself walking towards the bar and ordering another drink. You usually don’t drink too much, trying to stay sober but having fun. It’s a thin line, but you managed to keep the balance so far. That gives paps less tea to share online. Tonight feels a bit different and you know it’s because of Bucky and Natasha. They are the perfect couple and you can’t help but feel jealous. Even though you have no right because Bucky is just a friend. 

A hundred chit-chats later, you see Bucky in the corner of the crowded room. He seems down for some reason, you can always tell by the look on his face. He’s good at concealing how he feels. It’s almost like a poker face, but his eyes and his posture always give it away. Slowly, you walk towards him and he notices you right before you sit next to him.

“Hey, handsome. Why are you crying into your beer?”

“I’m not.” His answer is instant and you don’t buy it.

“Come on. I know you better than that. One minute you were happy, enjoying yourself, and now look at you: you're sulking in the corner. Something must have happened.”

He sighs. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” 

You think he maybe had a problem with Natasha and she isn’t around right now. Which is rare. Even though everybody’s attention is on her, she’s always around Bucky. You think it’s because of the unlabeled thing they have going on since they started working together. You never dared to ask if they are together or not. You aren’t ready for that answer yet.

“I know, doll. You are my best friend, but I just…” He stops for a second to think how he’s going to say this. “I don’t feel like myself.”

“What does that mean?” You ask with a frown.

“I’m not who I used to be.”

“Bucky, what are you talking about?”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t feel like I’m that handsome talented guy I used to be, okay? I feel ugly and…” He looks down at his body. “Fat.”

“Oh, come on!”

“That’s the truth.”

“You are being ridiculous.”

“I’m not and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Oh. He must have read something.

“Please don’t tell me you looked at the comments again.”

“I… did.” He accepts with a defeated tone.

“We talked about this before. You should never do that.” Your tone reminds him of a teacher scolding their student and it makes him smile so slightly, but you don’t see it. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose, darling. Natasha shared a photo of us together and I just went to like it.”

Oh.

“And you saw some comments?”

“Yeah. Saying that I’m getting older and uglier. I know I’m not a young man anymore but I’m just 40. Not dead yet, you know?”

“Yeah, of course not.” You take a huge sip from your drink.

“But they don’t think so and I started to notice maybe they are right.”

“Come on, Bucky!”

“I look in the mirror and every day I feel like I see a stranger, not myself. Since I stopped acting in those action movies, I’m not working out and dieting as hard as I used to and it’s so fucking visible. My reflection blinks at me in the mirror. Then I look around to see I’m alone. I’m old and alone. I missed my chance at happiness. I’m lucky if I can find someone to fuck me for the night.”

“I would fuck you, in a heartbeat.” The words just fly out from your lips and you can immediately see their effect on Bucky’s face.

“You would?” His expression seems completely different now.

“Yes… I would.” It’s too late to back down. Your long secret of having a huge crush on Bucky Barnes is basically exposed.

Without saying a word, Bucky takes your hand and drags you out of the after-party without saying goodbye to anyone. You have no idea where you are headed. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself in a cab with Bucky Barnes as he simply gives his house address and says nothing more.

The ride is short and silent. He doesn’t even look in your direction, his eyes are fixed on the road. You are regretting everything. Even the decision to come to this after-party. What were you thinking when you decided to take another drink because you saw Bucky and Natasha taking selfies? Where was your mind when you said you'd fuck him in a heartbeat? He must be so shocked. He's probably planning to talk to you in private, for your friendship’s sake. 

I fucking ruined our friendship, you think.

When the cab ride is over, Bucky pays the driver and holds the door open for you. You are glad to see he’s still a gentleman towards you, even after you said something completely stupid. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, just like I did for years.

Finally, when you step inside his place, Bucky closes the door and pushes you against the wall with a kiss. It’s so unexpected, your breath hitches. His lips are relentless, moving between your lips, your cheek, and your neck. You try to breathe, but it doesn’t feel real.

“I can’t believe we are doing this,” he says between kisses.

You can’t either. You were expecting a serious talk. Not this. 

“We shouldn’t do this.” You suddenly say when you remember Natasha. You didn’t even realize you left her behind when you two left the party so suddenly.

Bucky stops kissing you and looks at you with complete confusion. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have assumed. Was that… a pity comment?”

Now it’s your turn to feel confused. A pity comment? You pity yourself for exposing your crush, but definitely no pity for him. No way in hell.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You said we shouldn’t do this.”

“Because you are with Natasha and we left her at the party! This is wrong, Bucky. As much as I want to… we shouldn’t.”

“Natasha?”

“Yeah, Natasha.”

“What does Natasha have to do with this?” You can sense the confusion in his voice. It’s like he has no idea what you mean but… it makes no sense. 

“She’s just so nice and pretty. No wonder you two got paired together.” You don’t even notice you didn’t answer this question.

“You think I’m pretty, too?”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone in their right mind could see you're pretty. Why are you even asking?"

"I am asking you, not everyone, doll." And there it is again. That damn nickname. Doll. You love and hate to hear him call you that. It’s warming your insides up until you remember he calls other girls doll, too. Especially Natasha. 

"Stop with the nickname.” You finally say with a pained voice. This whole night is a huge mistake and you will be the one who gets hurt most. You can feel that the friendship you have with Bucky is slipping through your fingers already, so there’s no point in holding back now. “Of course you're pretty: the best eyes, fluffy hair. Tall. Looking good in suits. Two beautiful people."

“She’s just my partner and a good friend, darling. Nothing more.”

“But… but…” You stammer. “You are always together. She never leaves your side.”

“It’s because we are friends and I am helping her out.”

“Helping her out?” You repeat with confusion.

“She gets so much unwanted attention, she uses me as a shield, so less people would come up to her and talk.”

Oh. 

It makes perfect sense and Bucky is always a gentleman. 

“You thought we were together?”

“Yeah… kinda…”

Bucky moves closer to you and puts his hands on your face. “Doll…” Then he remembers what you said about the nickname. “Sorry. I never realized you didn’t like this nickname. I won’t use it anymore.”

His touch is so comforting and you feel relieved that there’s nothing going on between Bucky and Natasha. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it.”

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“I just… remember that you use that nickname all the time. It just doesn’t… feel special.”

“Darling, have you ever heard me calling someone else doll?”

His question makes you stop for a second. You actually never did. You just assumed he would be calling other girls doll as well because of the way he says it… It’s just so sexy. 

“I… didn’t.” You struggle to answer through your confusion. 

“Because I don’t call anyone doll. Except you.”

You can’t find words to respond, it feels like your mind completely stopped working. All you can think is how unbelievable all this is.

“Just me?” You repeat, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Just you.” He says reassuringly. “Can I keep calling you that?”

“Yes. Yes, you can.”

His hand slowly moves to your neck. It makes it even harder to think straight.

“Can I go back to kissing you?” His voice is deeper somehow. 

You gulp first. Then nod. Your response makes him smile and it warms you up. 

You imagined this moment many times, then put that image into the back of your mind just to keep going. Right now, his lips on yours are real. Not a dream, not a fantasy, and it feels so much better. 

The way his lips move fires something inside you. Something you tried to surpass and forget, but that never happened. Whenever you felt his touch, even something as simple as hands brushing, you felt that fire inside you and now it's back. Stronger than ever.

Finally, your hands move to his face, cupping it as he kisses you with passion. Now both of you know that this has nothing to do with pity or self-assurance. That gives you the confidence you need.

Your fingers move towards his shoulders as you put your hands inside his jacket and push it back. It surprises him, but he doesn’t resist, just letting the jacket fall to the ground. Then your fingers travel to his shirt. The first button is open but the rest… You start to unbutton them one by one. Then suddenly you found yourself turned around and pressed against the cold wall. His lips are on the back of your neck and his fingers are looking for the zipper. You smile to yourself when you realize you aren’t the only desperate one here.

“It’s not on the back.” He can hear the smile in your voice even though he can’t see your face.

“Where is it?” He sounds frustrated and it’s so adorable.

“On the side.”

His hands quickly move to your side and find the zipper. In a second, you are already unzipped and your dress is pooled around your ankles. You give it a soft kick and get rid of the dress while you go back to unbuttoning this shirt.

You look up at him to see that he’s watching you undress him. There’s a slight smile on his face. You smile back in response and go back to unbuttoning him. When your work is done, he takes the shirt off himself and just tosses it on the floor. It doesn’t take him long to get rid of your bra. He unclips it so quickly, it surprises you. Everything's happening so fast that you feel like you're swimming. Like this is a dream. You grab his face and give him another kiss to remind yourself this is your reality right now. That you are free to touch him however you want. Your kiss takes a low moan out of him as his fingers travel down to your body, toying with the waistband of your underwear.

“No teasing.” You whisper against his ear and you see how your voice affects him up close. “This time.” You add and that slight smile is back on his lips.

“Are you promising me a next time already?” His voice is so low, so different you barely recognize it. He’s lost in the lust, because of you, and you can’t believe it.

“I mean… Maybe.” You sheepishly smile. You already know you want a second and a third time. He doesn’t have to know that, yet. 

“Hmm… Depends on my performance, huh?” Before you can say anything he pushes his fingers under your last remaining clothes and you feel his finger brushing against your clitoris. A low moan escapes your lips. 

Between him touching your clit and you finding yourself on your back on his couch is a complete blur. You don’t know how you ended up completely naked and Bucky between your legs as holding on to your dear life. His lips are on your pussy, licking and touching, driving you crazy. He definitely knows how to use his tongue and fingers. Even though his fingers aren’t inside you, his touches are skillful. Not too harsh, not too soft. Just the perfect amount of pressure. Then he sucks on your clit and you let out a half painful moan. 

“Are you okay?” He lets go of your clit and looks at you concerned. 

“No sucking on the clit please. Not that you aren’t good at it.” You feel nervous suddenly. “It just hurts. Personal preference.” 

He smiles. “Noted.” And goes back to licking you. Soon the pain is long forgotten. 

It feels like he’s everywhere on the most sensitive part of your body. It’s either his lips, his tongue, his nose or simply his fingers but the pleasure is overwhelming. Soon you find yourself moaning his name out loud while coming hard against his tongue. 

He gives you a couple of minutes but doesn’t move at all. Instead, he pushes his fingers inside you when he decides you are finally back to yourself. When you feel one finger delicately pushing inside you, you raise yourself on the elbows.

“I said no teasing.” 

“This isn’t teasing, doll.” He looks straight into your eyes. “This is me making sure you are ready for what I am gonna do to you next.” 

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask breathlessly.

“Whatever you wanna do, baby, and I feel like you want to get fucked hard.” He stops for a second to read your expression. “Am I wrong?” 

His question catches you off guard. He is talking so openly and directly, you feel a little shy. You are not used to voice your needs this openly, yet that’s one the biggest problems you had in the past. Partners not communicating open enough and assuming things. He’s doing what you actually need to do. He’s communicating openly and it’s extremely hot.

You nod first. Then you find your voice again. “Yes. I do want that.” He smiles again. That damned smile makes you even wetter. “But how do you know that?”

“The way you kiss me, push your hips up while I play with you and your hungry look. You look like you wanna eat me up.”

You surpass shyness with a breath. “Yes, I want that too.” 

“Next time. It’s my turn now.” He winks at you and goes back to fingering. 

He starts with one finger. Soon second and third follow and you are back on the clouds. You can’t even recognize your own voice, moaning his name. The pleasure takes over you, your back aches and you come hard on his fingers. It’s your second orgasm yet you still crave for more. You crave his warmth, his passion and the pleasure his cock can give you. You find it strange feeling this hungry after two orgasms but you welcome it anyway. 

He moves up, directly kisses you without drying his mouth. His lips are hungry and demanding. His erection is hanging between you two and you can feel how hard he is. 

“Can you taste yourself on my lips?” He asks shamelessly after breaking the kiss. 

“Yes.”

“How does it feel?”

You say the first things that come to your mind with no filter. “Dirty and hot.” 

“Hmm… Good.” He keeps kissing you, his fingers are still in your pussy, slowly moving his fingers between your folds and feeling your wetness all over again. It feels like he enjoys how wet you are for him. Not just enjoying but relishing.

“This is teasing.” You state between his kisses.

“Is it?” His fingers stop like he didn’t know that already. “I just love how responsive you are.”

“And I wanna feel your cock inside me already.” 

Your bluntness doesn’t only surprise him, but you as well. You have no idea when you finally let go of your shyness. Maybe between the first and the second orgasm. You don’t care anymore. You really need him inside you.

“How do you want it, baby?”

“Let me show you.” You move away from him and miss his warmth instantly, but it’s for a good cause. You turn around and position yourself on your hands and knees. He understands what you want instantly.

“Hmm… You really want it hard.” He sounds amused. His fingers go back to your folds, moving up and down. “Just making sure you are ready.”

“I am dripping already, Bucky. How much more ready can I get?” 

You hear him laugh, but before you can say anything about it, you feel his cock right on your entrance. 

“Tell me if it hurts.” He says before pushing inside. 

His cock stretches you out so deliciously. There’s absolutely no pain at all. The preparation is paying off amazingly. The only thing you are feeling is the fullness you have been craving for so long, but you need more.

“Please move, baby.” 

It's the first time you use a pet name and you do it without thinking about it  but the way you say it affects him deeply. He tries to surpass the loud moan which was about to slip and you notice his struggle.

“Don’t hide your moans from me. I wanna hear them.” 

You imagined this moment for a long time. You spent hours imagining how he would talk, moan and come. You are so close to getting what you want and you have no intention to give up on it. Not even shyness can stop you from getting what you want.

“Then let’s make a deal.” He says, sounding breathless inside you. “None of us will try to hide their reactions. It’s only fair.”

“Deal.” You say eagerly and he chuckles. Then without saying anything else he starts to move inside you. 

First, it’s slow. Not painfully slow but still not as hard as you want. Yet you don’t say anything because you know this isn’t only for you. He’s trying to get used to feeling you around his cock. It seems overwhelming especially when he stops hiding his reaction. Low moans and curses spill from his lips. You say nothing, just enjoy the moment.

“Fuck.” This time he’s speaking louder than before. “You feel amazing around my cock, darling. So… so amazing.”

Your only reaction is moaning. The praise goes straight to your pussy. You wanna slam yourself against his cock and force him to move faster. 

“So eager for me. If I knew you wanted me this bad, we wouldn’t have to wait this long to fuck each other.” 

“It’s not like you made it obvious that you want me either.” 

“Forgive me for not thinking so highly of myself.”

The weight of his words crushes you. 

“Look at me.” You say turning your head back and find him looking directly at you. “You are all I ever wanted.” His expression changes. A wave of emotions waves over him. You feel he’s on the verge of getting emotional. “Now fuck me hard so we can finally experience what this feels like.” He smiles, but you can still see the emotions behind his eyes.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” 

From this moment, he is relentless. It’s fast and hard. The room is filled with the noise of skin slamming against skin, your wetness on his cock and your joint moans. It feels good. So fucking good that it doesn’t feel real. You can feel the pleasure bottling up. He’s moving back and forth with long strokes. His cock never leaves you. He pulls himself back until only the tip remains inside you and slams back in. The moans that leave your lips aren't human anymore. You feel desperate to reach that high again. 

“Please.” You beg suddenly. “Please… I’m so… close.”

“Harder or faster?” His voice is hoarse, showing you how close he is to losing control. 

“Faster.” You manage to say between moans. It’s so hard to even say one word out loud.

“I’m gonna come too.” And right then he notices that he didn’t put on a condom. “Fuck.” He sounds so disappointed.

“What?”

“We forgot the condom.” He slows down. 

“Keep going. I’m on birth control.” 

“Thank god!” You can’t help but smile before he picks up the pace again. In a second, both of you are a moaning mess. You come hard, so hard that you feel your muscles cramping with the force of it. Your whole body is electrified, you can feel it even on your toes. The noises you make push him over the edge. He starts to move faster and when you think your high is about to end, a new level opens up. Your mind stops working while your body turns jelly under him. 

He isn’t any different than you. His loud moans, and his desperate pace show how much he is enjoying it, but you are too lost in your own pleasure to notice. 

When you both drop your bodies on the couch, neither of you find the words. 

“Wow.” That's all you can say.

“Wow indeed.”

You turn your face and look at him. He seems completely blissed out.

“We should’ve done this waaay before.” You smile hearing his words. 

“You could’ve made a move, but you were too busy pitying yourself.” 

The words come out without you considering what you are saying and it doesn’t take long for you to regret them. It isn’t the time or place to talk about this. 

“I wanted to ruin our friendship for a long time, doll, but I was afraid. I was scared that I would ruin it for real and you wouldn’t wanna see me again. I was just fine being your good friend. It was a better alternative than losing you completely.”

You know what he means too well. That’s how you felt since the moment you met Bucky. He is such an amazing person, you didn’t want to lose him. Even if it means you have to witness him being happy with other people.

“That’s how I felt too, but look at you. Who can say no to you?” 

His smile is bitter. You sense he doesn’t believe you even without him opening his mouth.

“Come on. That is the afterglow speaking.”

You move your head up and get support from your left hand. 

“Look at me, Bucky.” He does and you see that he really doesn’t believe you. “You are gorgeous. Inside and out.”

“I know I am not what I used to be.”

“And that’s fine.” You quickly add. “You might not be Men’s Health cover material anymore, but guess what? It’s less healthy trying to keep that shape. Don’t let the name fool you. You don’t need six packs and huge biceps to look attractive. You need to be healthy so I can keep fucking you.”

Your last sentence makes him smile sincerely.

“You really believe that?”

“I do and honestly I have never been a six pack girl. You are even more attractive like this to me. A bit older and experienced. Just my type.”

“Hmm…” He says before kissing you deeply. You lose yourself in that kiss. So when he breaks it and asks you out, you are caught off guard.

“Huh?”

“I said: does it mean you will let me take you on a date?” 

A date? With Bucky Barnes? 

“Oh, yes. Anything you want.”

[kingofbodyrolls]

For this rainbow, I finally picked up my professional camera again. The last images stored there tells me that the last time I used it was the 1st of December 2023. Wild. But I picked it up thanks to this pretty rainbow, which was actually a double rainbow. So pretty. This image is made up of three into a panorama shot, and Lightroom was a bit funky with putting them together, so please don't mind the badly processed house in the middle; no, we're not looking at that 😂

For people who want a wall of text status update, it's under the cut.

How are you all doing? I'm hanging in there. Not active much, but I still haven't gotten myself into deleting my tumblr app. So I still see and get all your notifs, even if I don't reply right away! I'm still taking time off, trying to figure out what I want to do with the blog for the future... I have not written a fanfic in some time now, but I have two finished stories that are ready to be published, but I'm not sure. I'm not sure about a lot of things these days... I've had dark days, written a lot of sad and dark poems (that will go on my sub blog some time in the future), and I've begun to write an original story. It's really fun; about magic, witches and mages; about good and evil and all the gray in between. It will probably bore you, but it's fun to write, even though I don't think anyone would read it except for a few friends (even though this thing might be the longest thing I'll write, turning into either two or three books lol).

Serotonin boost I get happy when I get notifs with comments and/or reblogs of my stories; it really touches my heart. To be honest, this is why I left/taking time off. I've always felt that interaction was low, and my stupid brain will not let me stop comparing myself to others, so it slowly killed my drive for writing and posting. If no one interacts, what's the point of posting? If no one interacts, what's the point of writing? But I love writing, and it's one of my creative outlets, so I couldn't let that go completely, hence I started writing original stories instead; no ones gonna read them anyway, but I can still play with characters, world building and storytelling. Those are the things I loved about fanfics---and I still do, don't get me wrong. But I feel so discouraged being on here. But I'm happy to know that a few people still care.

The Downfall This also made it quite hard for me to read; because I felt so unmotivated... I haven't read much this month at all. I tried to read a fanfic this Monday, didn't finish it and haven't picked it up since. Honestly, I've just been watching documentaries because I'm in a (tumblr) slump. I feel drained though; I feel like I've given so much, and I love it. I love making people happy, leaving lovely reviews, and it's as much for myself as it is for making another person happy---but to be honest, it has drained me. I know I shouldn't ask for anything in return, but I feel imbalanced. Like I'm not being filled with much love, if that makes sense? I don't really feel appreciated, but don't get me wrong, I don't feel hated (yeah, I'm so good at being black and white), sorry---I know I sound very pessimistic. But you guess have always been so kind to me, and I love you a lot, and I have a few super lovely mutuals and friends that are lovely internet friends that I adore, so I wanted to be real with all of you. You can hate me for it if you want to. Go ahead.

I don't think I'm going to make a recommend list this month. I haven't really read anything, so it'll be really small. And I don't like the pressure of it anymore... which is why for a long time I've thought about not doing them anymore. Maybe some day I will again in the future. But I'd still love to make rec list on the member's birthdays! And I think this will help me, take some pressure off myself (that I've created myself), so I'll still read and rec, it will just be slower---whenever I feel like it, and not because I have to read to make a monthly rec list. This isn't my job, I'm not getting paid doing all of this, and the amount of time I've been spending on both reading and writing is more than 37+ hours a week, sooo. I have to slow down.

A part of me thinks that I flew too fast, too high and too close to the sun, lol. I'm still gonna be here, you can still send in asks for rec list or whatever you want, all is welcome (except hate, because then I'll simply just delete my blog, my mental health can't take that).

To post, or not to post? Should I post the two stories that I have? Both of them are for the series Friendcation.

And for the unfinished mermaid stories I still have left, I hope I'll finish them in the future; when, I don't know. Maybe one day I'll feel love for them again, to finish them. I have them all planned out, but like I mentioned before, with low interaction, I'm really not motivated to finish them, even though part of me really want to for the like five people that are so sweet and invested, and always comments and reblogs (you guys know who you are, and I love you so fucking much 🥰).

To all the stories I'll probably never write...

I still have some other unfinished but planned stories, and I'm gonna list them here, just for the hell of it. Don't know if people would have found them interesting anyway, but here goes:

Words on a Page (a Namjoon x reader, idol!au where reader is a fanfiction writer and interviewer for a magazine and has to interview BTS). Author's comment: probably never gonna write it. It has been done before, and it was just a very very silly dream I had.

Songs of The Heart (a Jimin x reader, musician!au where Jimin is a single father and reader moves into the house next to his, hear his lonely songs etc, they meet, talk, very angsty, sad and nostalgic and 'Who' coded). Author's comment: this idea came to me after listening to 'who' and then thinking about Jimin being my next door neighbor, yeah, that's it. Don't know if this will ever get written.

IT Support (a Jimin x reader, office!au where Jimin is your nerdy coworker, but a freak in the sheets, lol). Author's comment: this has honestly been on my list for years, but I never written anything for it, and I probably never will, even though I've made the banner and all.

I do have a few more, but I've already scraped those, and then there's the four mermaid stories to add to the list. I'm probably mostly excited about the mermaid stories, and those would be my priority if I ever get back into writing fanfiction again.

I swear, I'm almost finished... Okay, this whole thing has gotten incredibly long. Sorry. Before I end this post, I just want to say how happy and grateful I am to each and everyone of you. I've met some incredible nice people on here, some really caring ones. I'll never forget that. And I'll never forget each wonderful and lovely comment, some people have really helped me, motivated me when I felt low, and when I wanted to stop writing a few months back. Thank you. I kept going, and I wish I could keep going for you, making something special, for the special people I met here. I actually really wanted to do requests for you guys in hopes that it would motivate me into writing, but I just don't know. I still want to give so much back to the people who have hyped me up, so I'm going to tag a few of you lovely people--- if you have a request for a story, you're welcome to message me or send me an ask. I don't know if or when I'll write it, but in case I get a bit of motivation, I have some things I could write from, so if you want to, you can send me a request (just keep in mind the story will probably be a one-shot from 10-20k max or maybe shorter, lol, you never know with me). You don't have to send me a request, I simply want to give back to some lovely people. I wish I could hug you.

@letjungcoook7 @honeybloomyyyy @babystarcandyjk97 @minpdrecs @bobathi @allie-is-a-panda @back2bluesidex @gimeow @antisocial-mochi267

These are but just a few of the people that have supported me on there, either by commenting, reblogging, ask, messaging--you name it. I could list many others, and one day I might make a post celebrating all mt lovely mutuals, that means a lot to me. Thank you for interacting; you've (as long with others) helped me when times were tough. Thank you.

I had actually planned to open a "recommend a fic" section/box, but I'm not sure about that. I still have so many fics on my to read list, and right now I don't want to pile more onto it. Might do it in the future, when I've finally made it through my own lists.

Okay, I have to end this post for real now.

I'm still on tumblr, I still have my app. I deleted my discord app on my phone, but I'm still part of the servers I was before, I'm just not active. It's better for me that way right now, because it all got to be too much. I was just reminded of how much of a failure I feel like (no, we're not getting into that not, store it away). But you can always contact me here. I'm lurking sometimes. I look forward to reading in a more leisurely pace and hopefully not feeling pressured to make the rec lists as I did before (even though just for the completionist in me I want to finish them for just this year, lol).

Okay. If you read this far---thank you, I adore you, I love you, you're nice, keep going 💜

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!