#he only shows up in the first drawing but still

[onlyswan]

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i��d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

[heartfullofleeches]

Pizza boy brie forgetting to get out of cosplay before going to readers house because he was pressed for time. Maybe wearing a maid dress.

Yan "Pizza Boy" + Reader

-

Presenting himself live to an audience of hundreds couldn't hold a candle to how exposed Brie felt in that moment-

The frilly headpiece. Flowing skirt, framing the meat of his thighs stuffed into those slim, black stockings. A pink apron held tightly between his knees - its length exceeding the trim of the dress, masking any undesirable sight from view. You'd already seen this much, but for some reason showing you his underwear would be the final nail in the coffin for him. The sun had set enough where the transparent aspect of his panties may go noticed, but he couldn't live with the shame of you seeing him so intimately without having properly expressed his feelings-

"P... pizza's here."

Brie swallows thickly. How could he have fucked up his chances with you this badly? Everyone knows that the key to a successful business and continued from customers is good food, quality service, and speedy delivery. While Brie didn't have plans on opening up a pizza joint of his own - he couldn't lose you to another before he found a better excuse to pop up randomly at your door. It was all he had in terms of interacting with you. You'd problem never want to see him again after this. He felt like the biggest pervert in the world. Not only had he tainted your pizza with the physical release of his love, but here he was at your door dressed as a lustful maid.

The expression on your face isn't clear at first. Brie can hardly make sense of anything with his head spinning, struggling and failing to find an excuse for his attire. Dazedly, he watches the corners of your lips draw upwards in a smile. A small snicker of laughter from you washes away the dread like the calm after a storm - magnified by the words that follow after.

"Delivery and a show. The place you work at is bound to close if they aren't charging each for this. You start work after a costume party or something?"

Brie thanks the stars for the escape you've unknowingly gifted him. "T-that's right! I was gonna borrow a uniform from someone, but everyone kinda dared me to make my deliveries wearing this. Thankfully, I had some sneakers in the back of my car or I'd be driving all over town in high heels!"

"Good for your feet, but almost a shame for me. I'm sure you'd look great in them."

As embarrassing as the night started, Brie would be a fool to waste such a prime opportunity-

"I still have them in my car if you'd like to see me in them."

[glitterjay]

can i ask for enhypen rection at yn waking up from a nightmare?

im still keeping up with all of ur post but i always forget to send something 🤌🏼

have a great day <3

⭐️ anon

⭒ fluff, mention of nightmare, crying, ot7

⭒ c's note: it's nice to see you again in my ask, ⭐️'anon! reblogs are appreciated

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks

heeseung had woken up because he felt the way your body kept moving around on the other side of the bed. "baby?" he called, but he received no answer. he could see from the light coming from outside that your eyebrows were furrowed and how tightly you were holding onto the blanket. he placed a hand on your waist, and you woke up. you sat up straight, sweat dripping off your face and tears running down your eyes. he was quick to bring you into his arms, brushing your hair as a way to calm you down while he tried to sing you back to sleep, just as if you were a baby. he'd ask if you wanted to talk about it or just go back to sleep with his arms wrapped around you to feel safe. it was always your choice.

you had woken up from a very bad nightmare, startled and shaking. you looked around frantically, only to calm down a little after seeing your boyfriend sleeping right next to you. jay had always reassured you that it was okay to wake him up if you needed anything, so you didn't hesitate to call his name. he was quick to sit up with you and talk out what had happened, one of his hands resting on your lower back, rubbing circles to help your fear ease. he'd gladly stay awake all night until you felt well enough to go back to sleep.

jake was busy watching videos on his phone, awake pretty late at night when he noticed how hard and fast you started breathing in your sleep. he set his phone aside, calling your name softly to wake you up. to his dismay, the reason you had woken up was not because you heard him but because the fear you felt was too much for you to handle. "hey, hey, I'm here." he'd hug you really tight, whispering sweet words to calm you down. he'd even offer to show you what he was watching in hopes that'd ease your worries.

sunghoon always slept while cuddling you, one way or another. so when he felt you shake and twist under the covers, he was quick to tighten his grip. he would kiss your cheek, neck, and shoulder blades, reassuring you that you weren't alone and that he was there with you. his hands would caress your skin softly, actually lulling you back to sleep.

sunoo was quick to react when you shot up in fear. your breath was rapid, and your hands were frantically searching for something to hold onto. sunoo offered his hand and carefully let you regain your composure before speaking. he brushed away the strands of hair covering your face, assuring you that it was okay to cry and let it out. he reassured you that he would be there to listen to everything and that nightmares were not something to be ashamed of.

it took jungwon a few minutes to realize you were sitting in the bed, hugging your legs close to your chest. he was quick to ask what was wrong, and when you told him it was a nightmare, his face softened. he'd get up and run to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and the first snack that crossed his path. he'd then sit in front of you and talk you out of it as you drank some water and ate the snack. he'd invite you to take a spot between his legs, claiming it was safer and that no nightmares could get past him, and surprisingly, it's true.

ni-ki sleeps in late most of the time, but it caught him off guard seeing you awake so late at night. you didn't have to tell him for him to notice you had a nightmare, so he'd pull out netflix and put on a kids' show for you. he'd make silly remarks about the characters while one of his hands holds yours, the other drawing patterns on the back of your hand. he'd talk and talk because he knows the noise helps you drift off without thinking about the nightmare, and he'd sigh in satisfaction when you're fast asleep on his shoulder.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[animestsstuff2]

Bakugou boyfriend headcannons

I had this idea of headcannons but as you read they progress with his character development during the seasons. Its most likely been done but i thought it would be cool, especially since the Bakugou I write about in Dragons beauty is based more from his development than the first few seasons!

—————————————————————————————————————

Bakugou, who was actually the first person you met at U.A and immediately hated after he shoved you out of the way yelling “get out of my way you damn extra!”

Bakugou, who in every class got on your nerves with his stinking attitude, huge ego and bullying of other classmates, especially Izuku who became your friend on day one

Bakugou, who saved your life during the U.S.J attack, grabbing you from Shigaraki’s grasp and pulling you into him. His excuse was he needed a clear shot to blast Kurogiri and you were the perfect distraction since according to Bakugou “yeah, you were just in the way like usual, hadda move ya”

Bakugou, who rolled his eyes at your thank you gift of baked chocolate chip cookies, only taking them after Kirishima berated him that it would be unmanly not to. As if Bakugou cares..he ate the cookies, cleaned the container and hand delivered it to you along with a small thank you scribbled on a note.

Bakugou, who again saved your life during the attack on the summer camp training, pushing you out of the way of Dabi’s flames and in turn getting captured. Your eyes never leaving his as he was taken.

Bakugou, who after being rescued by All Might and moved into the dorms with everyone else can’t sleep and finds you in the living room feeling the same. You ask him why he is awake and he shoots it back at you, sitting down with you. You talk and he listens, eyes never leaving yours until yours slowly draw close and having not noticed how close he moved till your head rested on his shoulders and he pulled a blanket over you both.

CrushBakugou, who after waking up with you on the sofa was red in the face and grumbling, trying to carefully slip your body off his chest and leave only for you to stir and him going still as some early riser classmates drift into the kitchen. Kirishima of course grinning at his friend who has obviously been crushing on you since those cookies.

Boyfriend Bakugou who is proud you gained your hero license. A small smile on his face as you bounced on your heels in front of him as you proudly showed your card off, forgetting that he didn’t gain his.

Boyfriend Bakugou who brings your favourite home cooked meals to your study sessions in the your dorm. Bakugou who stays up explaining things to you to make sure you get top results to you get scouted by a good hero.

Boyfriend Bakugou who watches you sleep, brushing the hair from your face and pulling you tighter into his arms, content to have some form of comfort to ease him, loving when after training all week you massage his sore back and muscles, always putting extra moisturiser on his calloused hands.

[oracle-of-dream]

Under the Nite Lights

Summary: He's not coming... is he? Even in the cold Winter weather, as the snow falls, you can't believe he'd leave you waiting.

Notes: Male Reader, Fluffy, Winter theme, Leehan is a romantic, Sun/Moon couple, Sleeping in the cold

Wordcount: 1k

Your fingers were numb. Your feet stung. It felt like your eyes would never open again from your frozen tears.

In the park, on a bench under a tree surrounded by snow. You shivered while watching couples strolling through. The Nite Lights had started and he still wasn't here–if he was ever coming at all... You pulled your coat tighter around you, the one he'd bought you. It faintly smelled like him too. But it only made the hole in your heart grow bigger at the thought that he wasn't here with you.

Every December, your hometown would make a big event of showing massive light displays in the park which stretched across town. And every year you'd go. This would've been the first year you wouldn't have to go alone... It was the best stop for couples. Every year, you watched so many pairs enjoying their time together, they hugged each other to stay warm and laughed as they walked. And every year, you'd watch alone from the bench as you thought about how it would be walking with someone special.

You'd begged your boyfriend, over and over to make sure he made time for this night. The one night that meant so much to you... But you were still alone on the bench. Just like every year before.

Your phone was dead from calling and texting him. Each attempt went unanswered. Where the hell could he be? Your mind wandered as you felt your eyes get heavier. Your breathing slowed as your head slumped back, feeling the snowflakes gently pepper your cheeks.

Why couldn't he be here... just for one night?

You could remember the first day you met him. Leehan was a customer in the cafe you worked at. His long hair was tied back as he carried textbooks to his seat, balancing too many books for him to handle. You'd guessed it–he fell and dropped the books everywhere. You rushed over to help him. And that's when you got a good look at his handsome face, pink with embarrassment as he hurried to clean up his mess. You split the load with him and helped him carry some of the books, and he left you a big tip as a thank you. You cleaned his table to find his number with a small drawing of you... It was so detailed and beautiful, in a way that you could never see yourself. On the back of the portrait, it said. "You're so beautiful, if the stars ever stopped shining, I'd call you to shine my nights for me." It was the goofiest pickup line you'd gotten while at that job, but it was the best thing you'd ever read. You called him after your shift and ended up seeing each other for a date later that week...

A voice echoed in your mind. "Y/n!? Baby!?"

Your body shook as your eyes peeled open, your frozen eyelashes straining to separate. It took a moment for your eyes to focus but you knew that voice... It was him. You spotted Leehan rushing around the park with a panicked look in his eyes, carrying a bouquet of white flowers–he was wearing the sweater you'd bought him too.

You cried as you stumbled to your feet. The effort it took to rip your body from the bench knocked you to the floor. Your needs buckled from the cold, and your throat ran dry. He came... He really did come! You tried to speak as loudly as you could, "Leehannie!" He turned around and relaxed when he saw you. His panic turned into a soft worry as he ran over to you.

Leehan knelt down and placed the flowers beside you as he checked on you. He dusted the snow out of your hair and wiped your tears. "Baby, I've been trying to call you. Why didn't you answer me?" Leehan rubbed his head against yours before pulling you into his arms, squeezing you tight. His voice shook as he whispered, "Please don't worry me like that... I don't know what I would've done if you'd vanished on me." He stroked your head while hugging you, taking shaky breaths.

"I thought you weren't coming..." You sniffled as you wiped your nose.

"How could I not come? This night's so special to you! You love watching the Nite Lights!"

"You didn't answer my calls or texts. I didn't know what to do..."

Leehan kissed you, his lips, two soft pillows for you to rest on. "I'm so sorry, baby. I was still stuck at work, then I went to get a surprise for you–by the time I tried calling you back, you weren't answering."

"My phone died."

Leehan stood up, pulling you to your feet. "That's okay–it happens... As long as you're safe. How long did you wait out here? You're almost blue!"

"...Three hours."

Leehan's eyes widened. "Three hours!? I'm an hour late to our date, right? Did I get the time wrong?"

"I wanted to look around alone first... Like I used to. Then I'd walk with you to see how it was different." You looked down at Leehan's flowers. "Are those for me?"

He scooped them up and gave them to you. "Some beautiful flowers for my beautiful boy," He said as he kissed your hands. Leehan stepped back and held his hand out to you. "I know I'm late, but would you still want to walk with me?"

The way the light shined on him, and the snow landed perfectly in his hair. He looked like a dream–a dream man in a Winter wonderland. You nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'd love to walk with you..."

Leehan smiled as he took your hand, leading you through the park. The two of you laughed and pointed out your favorite decorations–Leehan could name all the different fish ones. "Why are there fish in Winter? No one thinks about finishing in Winter. Maybe ice fishing?" Your heart swelled watching him talk about his fish facts. He was the cutest when he told you whatever you'd listen to. And for him, you'd listen for as long as he wanted.

Toward the end of the walk, Leehan stopped you.

"Remember that surprise I talked about?"

You nodded. Leehan pulled a small box out of his pocket. Inside were a pair of rings, silver bands with a Sun and a Moon.

"Will you shine in my days, and let me light your nights?" Leehan asked with a goofy smile–wiggling his eyebrows the way you liked.

"Of course, Moon Man." The nickname you gave him since his head was always in space.

"Thanks, Sunlight..." The nickname he gave you for bringing light into his life every day.

You put the rings on each other as you kissed under the Nite Lights. Your first year going with someone, and your last year going alone...

[savorypink]

buckle bunny

you've taken a liking to someone next door.

contains smut. + cowboy!alex.

It’s not wrong, right?

It’s just looking—observing. You aren’t hurting anyone. Well, the potential relationship with your neighbour could damage a few things. Ugh, that word. Potential. It makes your stomach swirl with nausea; potential.

You want something more permanent than ‘potential’. Right now, it seems farfetched, almost out of your grasp. But until permanence occurs, you can at least enjoy the view. 

You draw back the curtains to your window, the mobile home adjacent to yours now in vision. 

He’s home today.

The plastic encasing your popsicle bursts opens with a soft ‘pop’, though the emptiness of your trailer makes it seem louder than usual. The bitter Red 40 hits your tongue before the tart cherry flavour washes it away. It reminds you of something. You recall the fleeting feeling of your heart drumming against your chest the first time you did this—your bitter Red 40.

Then relief covers you in warmth like a blanket, but your stomach still churns, partly in butterflies, the other…disgust? It isn’t your fault. Alex is just that excellent of a specimen. Your microscope will forever fix on him.

It’s like watching a sculpture in motion. But your time in the museum has well passed. Alex is dripping sweat from the damp hair shielding his face to his lean, sun-kissed arms. He isn’t too bulky but shows no signs of fragility, either. Rugged. Masculine. Sharp edges you don’t mind cutting yourself on. Replace the dumbbell in his hand with your neck, and it could leave an attractive bruise. Your body and brain melt at the thought while your thighs come together pathetically. He could crush you like a bug. 

Your lips fall agape as you watch him curl the dumbbell for another repetition. As he curls the dumbbell, your grip on the popsicle grows tighter, mirroring the contracting muscles in his arms. Your peep show is beginning to feel like a workout, with the underarms of your shirt dampening and soreness in your knees from digging them harshly into the mattress.

Your chest burns a fiery red hot as if he’s placed a boot there. Your feeble wheezing congests your ears while the savoury sound of your bones snapping sends a jolt of heat through your core. He could crush you like a bug. He could crush you like a bug.

A pink tongue laps away at the sweat forming across his upper lip. Bumps and edges your body wants to get familiar with. You’d look good on him, and you don’t doubt that, but he’d look delectable between your folds. Your ache could use easing, and he could be your painkiller.

The weight gradually comes up his chest for what you presume is his final set of curls. The strain on his sweaty face softens once the dumbbell is at his side again. With what you think is a hearty grunt, he sets the weight at his feet. His large, gloved hands sit at his hips as he triumphs over the weight. You catch him trying to fight the smirk threatening to paint his features, but eventually, he caves. Shit-eating. Sexy. Belittling.

He’s such a man.

His chocolate eyes study the ceiling, dizzy with power. When his eyes tear away from above, they meet the window beside him.

The window you’re across from.

Your heart falls from where it once was and into your churning guts. This is real, is it? The hot guy from next door watching you is merely a vision trick. Correct? Closing your curtains makes you as cowardly as it does guilty; you remain statue-esque under his gaze regardless. The heat rushing to your neck and face tells you it’s terrible, but something else tells you to embrace it. 

Alex drinks in your stunned state, amused. It’s almost a repeat of the same grin from when his workout finished. Smug. Proud that he’s gained an audience of you. Only you. He reaches for the string of his blinds before swiftly closing them, your beloved show ending on a cliffhanger.

The reality of what happened has yet to smack you in the face. Your mattress hasn’t swallowed you yet. Your underwear is still uncomfortably wet. The trailer is empty; no camera crew tells you you’ve been Punk’d. The quiet is deafening, but a buzz in your pocket quickly follows before allowing you to wallow in your silent shame. 

It’s from your neighbour.

Change your shirt.

You look down at the splotches of red and blue staining your work polo. A warm, sticky puddle of popsicle soaks your skirt’s denim, dying your thighs and fingertips. Groaning, you leave the bed and gather nearby tissues to blot away the pesky Red 40 and Blue 1 splattering your skirt. Before you can angrily toss the empty popsicle in the garbage, you read the text on the stick’s end.

How do you warm up a frozen cowboy?

Yee-thaw!

—

“You still tryin’ to fuck that old dude next door?”

Your head comes up from your magazine to look at your friend. “He’s not old.”

She waits for your protest but smiles when you respond with silence. “Then that means yes.”

The trailer park folk are friendly; it’s something that comes with living in the South. You’ve shaken hands and exchanged hellos, but your only real friend sits beside you. Two trailers away and a bit gossipy, though you felt comfortable updating her on your staring rituals. She ensured your secret was safe with her; surprisingly, she’s incredibly supportive of your efforts. Or lack thereof.

“You two would make excellent babies.”

The summer sun isn’t responsible for the heat rushing to your face. You roll up the magazine and smack her thighs, but her infectious giggling alleviates your embarrassment.

“I don’t just want to fuck him,” the lawn chair squeaks as your back sinks further into the plastic. “Do you think he likes to cuddle? We can cuddle.”

“Naked, probably.” She sighs, about to leave her chair. “Want me to find out for you?”

You hold her wrist in a vice grip. “Don’t.”

She snatches her wrist from you, returning to your side. “You’re strong. You’ve been flicking the bean much more since Al’s been here, huh?”

You shield the magazine over your flushing face. Your friend isn’t wrong. “Leave. Please.”

“You have his number. Send him some nudes or something.” You allow her to get up this time, peeking at her through the glossy pages. “It’ll be more fun than watching him smoke.”

Her flip-flops clap along the pavement as she leaves. Groaning, you toss the magazine at your feet. You hate it when she’s right.

Nudes are a bit extreme, but you’ve made your interest clear. It’s not that Alex isn’t entirely interested, either. If you remember correctly, he quite literally smiled when he caught you. In some roundabout way, Alex opened Pandora’s Box between you two and left the rest in your hands. Your phone can be used to communicate. Did you know this? Alex practically gave you an opening. Enter the door.

Alex is having a cigarette. Double-denim clad. Large silver belt buckle around his hips. His worn hat sits beside him on the stairs leading to his trailer. He’s returned from the ranch. You recognise the exhaustion from your prior viewings. In sunlight, his dark circles are prominent, and so are the tan lines along the collar of his shirt.

A single bead of sweat trickles down his neck, glimmering in the sun before disappearing into the valley of his chest. Your toes curl into your flip-flops as your core tightens around your slick walls. 

Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring.

Does he even know you’re alive over there? 

You admire and envy his blase. He could sit in front of you and not say anything, let alone give you a glance. Instead, he taps away at the keyboard on his phone, one letter at a time. Looking absolutely adorable in the process. It definitely shows his age, but your heart flips and bends all the same.

His nonchalance might be a blessing in disguise. He can’t see the imaginary hearts floating above your head.

 What does his search history look like? Who is he texting? Does he prefer Candy Crush or Bejeweled?

Your dumb questions halt once you hear his door shut. The loneliness isn’t as deafening as the night prior. You’ve gotten used to it. In fact, you’d call it a loop of the day before, the way your phone buzzes again.

The next show is tonight at 12. Dress to impress.

You’re alive. And Alex is aware.

Confirmed. See you then.

—

11:59.

Time doesn’t move the way you want it. 60 seconds shouldn’t feel like forever, but tonight, it does. You’re in your usual spot by the window, waiting for something to happen. But rather than silence, it’s your heart hammering your eardrums. Instead of just sitting there, your fingers twiddle with the lace hem of your nightgown. A lump sits in your throat, sour and hot, and you find it hard to swallow with each tick of the clock. 

Where is he?

Could you blame him if he bailed? Not entirely. This is weird; strangers don’t wait by the window for one another. They don’t invite the other to watch them either—you don’t know him. Close the curtains. You can have a good cry about it later.

12:00.

Alex opens the blinds.

The towel wrapped around his hips is oddly thick. You want to kick yourself for letting your eyes land there first. He must’ve noticed. Alex is going for the towel. You ball up your nightgown and wiggle in your seat; your heart is the only echo in your ears.

Thwip!

There’s another towel underneath.

The air feels less thick as you laugh, the bricks on your shoulders tumbling to the ground. His lightheartedness is endearing; it makes your palms less sweaty. It’s a quality lacking in the boys your age: pure charm. You wonder what else he can do to fuzzy your chest. Make you laugh. Make you feel wanted. The skin on your arms raises at the thought. Butterflies flap wildly around in your belly. He could be yours.

Your phone lights up.

Show me something.

You’re unsure of what he means for a moment, but your body understands it clearly. You slip the nightgown straps down your arms, wincing as the cold air hits your bare skin. The blood rushes precisely where Alex wants it, frigid air and arousal stiffening your nipples. Your glazed eyes notice an inviting and prominent dent in the towel. 

Another text.

Beautiful.

Wetness damps the pillow underneath you, and shamelessly, you rut against it. Your fingers swirl your nipples in circles, closing in on them with a hard pinch as Alex finally removes the towel. The strong arms you watched him work hard for get their chance to shine. He spits into his hand and begins pumping, almost in tune with your twist on your breasts. His fists, hefty, veiny, and what you’d picture as calloused, nearly eclipse his cock.

Already leaking out of the fat head, looking heavy in his hands, you don’t doubt he can fill you to the brim. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your bodies demand to collide; the hunger between you two is almost never-ending.

You get a firm grip on the pillow and start grinding. A breeze wicks away the sweat forming on your brow, and you grind harder, the fabric painfully rubbing at your unnerving ache. Alex has an idea of what you’re doing and what you’re doing it with, and he knows it should be him instead.

Captivated with your breasts dancing and your slack jaw, he can’t tell if his new speed is out of anger or lust. You’ll be so good to him. Good for him. You’re worth the trouble.

A heat rises in your belly as your hips follow his hand’s maddening pace. The friction between your core and the pillow hurt all so good. Your folds will probably be a puffy, burning mess afterwards, but Alex makes it worthwhile. His body shines with sweat, defining his v-line and biceps, glowing him in the dark. He mouths what you think is your name but finishes with an audible “Oh.” 

White stripes spurt out of his cock and onto his knuckles and bedsheets, but his movements continue as he waits for your arrival. You mewl and rock against the pillow until your legs tire. You hold your tongue when the heat in your stomach rushes through you, but you’ve made him aware of what you need.

The ceiling looks as if it’s made of stars with your head thrown back as you ride out your bliss, though you feel your movements becoming desperate again. When you dip your head back, Alex closes the blinds, leaving you alone again. The wet spot in the pillow grows cold quickly, and you prepare for silence again.

Until your phone goes off.

You wish it was your hand, don’t you?

You type out your message, hitting send with your eyes shut.

You wish you were the pillow, don’t you?

—

Ask him for a cup of sugar.

You’ve had dumber ideas. 

It seems innocent enough. It’s more tasteful than just showing up and asking Alex: “What are we?” You even went out of your way to buy ingredients for a cookie recipe, knowing that a bag of sugar exists in your cupboard. Typically, you would hate lying, but this one could have an enormous payoff. Maybe you’ll finally figure out if he likes to cuddle. Your teeth ache at the sweetness of it all. 

His door seems more menacing up close. It’s easier for you to turn heel, return to your house and act like the past few days never happened. You’d be better off that way. But the actions from your home are what lead you here. You’ll have to face that silence if you go back. Your skin will ache from unfulfillment, touch-starved and bone dry. Desires will continue to pound in your ears, and you’ll have no one to share them with. It’ll be you like it’s always been. You’re bored of it.

You knock firmly on the door, your heart halting as his footsteps approach.

The door swings open to reveal Alex draped in worn pyjamas and an equally worn shirt. Warmth wells in his eyes at your form. He smiles. “Hi.”

“It’s you.” Your voice is barely a whisper. 

“In the flesh.” 

“Can I…do you have sugar? I need a cup.” 

He moves out of the way of the door, the scent of air conditioning pungent. “Come. Can’t have you waiting out here.”

You could pinch yourself a million times, but this will still be your reality. This isn’t a dream. You’re here. He gestures for you to sit at the kitchen table, and you sit statue-esque with your hands in your lap. Nervousness and curiosity keep your eyes bouncing from one thing to another.

The TV is playing some western on low volume. Kung-fu movies on VHS sit in a quiet corner. Playboys and painkillers sit on the end table next to the yellow couch, guitar picks scattered in the mix. There are no family photos; he wears no ring. There isn’t a life you could ruin. You can breathe a little easier. The silence still has you wheezing, though.

“Your spice cabinet is pretty full for a white guy.”

Alex closes the cupboard, turning to you with furrowed brows. “Thank you?”

All the blood in your body goes to your face. “Uh-huh.”

It might be best if you didn’t say anything.

He sets the sugar in front of you and then pulls out the chair across from you. “What other activities do you like besides peeping?”

It feels like more of an interrogation than an ice-breaker. You twiddle your thumbs. “Baking. Daydreaming. Long walks on the beach.” You force the last part, needing to be lighthearted; your arms can’t hold something this heavy.

“You like cowboys?”

You’re not picky, but you like this cowpoke specifically. “They’re fine, I guess.”

He clutches at his shirt dramatically, letting his head fall back. Acting as if you’ve shot him at point-blank range. He’d be as good as an actor as a lover.

“Woman, you wound me.”

You giggle, and he yearns to hear more of your laughter. “There’s a ranch not too far out from here.” Alex begins. “It’s where I work. Beautiful. All the acres you could want. Family’sThe family’s filthy rich, too. I can sneak you in if you want. Teach you how to ride—a horse.”

The invitation is enticing and as charming as he is. It’s got those butterflies flapping about in your stomach. Without a thought, you slide out of your flip-flops and let your skin graze his ankle. Gooseflesh forms immediately at your contact.

“What else can you teach me?”

When your toe hits his calf, he takes your ankle. “We can get a head start on riding. You pick the place.”

His hands feel the way you pictured them. Calloused and rough—the hands of a working man. You look around the trailer. The couch is inviting. The kitchen counter won’t work. You’ve seen his bedroom, and your presence makes sense, but a question slithers into your head when your eyes meet again. What’s wrong with right here?

Alex releases your leg, allowing you to stand before him - albeit a nervous wreck. He embraces you regardless, the same calloused hands seemingly lightweight around your hips, grazing the bone with his thumbs. His nose pokes at your own, and Alex nudges it cutely, wanting your approval for a kiss. He doesn’t need to ask, but you tilt your head, and you two collide. 

Finally.

It’s better than what you pictured. The fizz of Coke on his skilled tongue, his beard etching burns into your skin. Your failure to catch up with your tongue makes him clutch you tighter, the seams of your sundress nearly coming apart in his grasp. He bucks into your clothed core, and you mewl, returning the gesture with movements of your own.

A hand finds your breasts and squeezes possessively, another pathetic moan leaving your mouth. He drinks your sounds like water, rewarding you with noises from his gut. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulder, but to your dismay, it breaks the kiss. Alex pulls back with a grimace, hissing through his teeth painfully. Your heart drops into your gut immediately.

“What…happened?” Concern shrills your voice.” Did I do something?”

He kisses you in assurance that he’s fine, albeit timidly. It has you second-guessing if he’s truly at his best. “I had a fall on the ranch. It’s unimportant.” 

You begin tracing shapes along his shirt. “It’s important to me,” your lips curl into a pout, and you can feel his legs tremble. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Alex.”

His hand palms the lacy material of your panties, already sticky and damp to the touch. “You couldn’t hurt me even. Not even if I begged for it.”

You grind against the ridges and lines of his hand, but softly enough to reduce any damage you could do to his arm. His palm is hot under your core, and the lace of your underwear begins to burn at your ache. Your wetness spills out of his fingers in excess, adding to the stains you already stamped on his pants with your needy grinding. You claw at the waistband of his pyjamas, his bulge more prominent than before.

“Can I…? Please?” Your fingertips hook the elastic.

Alex withdraws his hand, pulling your panties to the side. “Take what’s yours.”

You slide him out of his pyjamas and boxers hurriedly. Your core tightens around itself as the tip already leaks precum. With a teasing finger, you smear the substance along his slit, another hiss leaves his lips, but it’s not out of pain. Alex retaliates by sliding two fingers into your leaking core, grinning when your finger spasms. 

“Tight.” His fingers scruff the spongey part of your bits. You moan. “You’re gonna be so good for me. I know it.”

The wet squelching sound at the expense of your core is louder than your heart in your ears. Alex’s fingers curve and swirl, pumping mercilessly in and out of you. The moment heat pools in your lower belly is when his fingers withdraw from you. You whine.

“Don’t whine.” Alex lazily drags his tip along your folds before slipping inside you. “I got ‘cha.”

The bulbous tip is enough burning on its own, effective in stretching you out and making your toes curl painfully inward. With Alex fully seated inside you, your core is scorching, the burn is too harsh, and it is too delightful to ignore. Instead of his shoulders, your hands grip the neckline of his shirt, looking up at him with watery lenses.

“Like I said, I got you.” Alex guides up his cock, stilling at the base, then resuming, bringing you all the way to the tip. Your hot slick runs down each thick, lengthy inch of his cock, your wall’s usual grip uncomfortably wet and slippery. Alex has your hips coming down at a moderate pace, and you’re sure his shoulder is to blame. You try not to apply too much weight but let your head rest there, pressing kisses.

He wants more of you, and it’ll hurt him to do it, but he brings you down faster on his cock. His shoulder screams in agony, groaning in lust and in pain. He needs you to talk him through it. You’ll make it more bearable.

“No boyfriend, right?” He pants in your ear. “Besides your pillow, I mean.”

If he weren’t already in pain, you’d hit him. “Leave him out of this. He’s just a friend. Promise. Mmm, so good, Al. Close.”

You feel him twitch inside you. “Can’t wait to meet ’im.”

Another hotness spills from you again, but it’s stickier than you’d produce. Alex spills into your walls with a primal grunt. Everything but his hands go limp as he paints your core a hot, gluey white, his bouncing off your body slowing down.

Unlike that time in your room, his name comes out of your mouth with confidence as you succumb to the burning heat in your belly, clutching him tightly as your vision turns to pink haze. Both of your pants bounce off the walls of the trailer, the scent of sex breezing away from the air conditioning.

Alex shifts the chair, giving you room to stand. Your footing is shaky on the way up, your knees nearly buckling as you rise from his lap. He brings your underwear back to its original position, plugging the release and threatening to slip out of you. He gives your core an affirming smack, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. 

You twiddle your thumbs and watch as he tucks himself back into his pants, the silence you know all too well blanketing the room.

“...So?”

“So.” Alex drums his fingers against the table.

You give two clammy thumbs up. “We’re good?”

“More than good.”

You take the cup of sugar, grinning. “Cool. Um, do you like cookies? I’ll bring you some when they’re done.”

He takes your hand and grazes your knuckles, kissing them tenderly. “You don’t need cookies to come see me. Visit anytime. You know where I stay.”

You'll be back. Cookies or not.

Guaranteed.

[fatkish]

JJK Boys x SU Pearl Reader

Nanami:

Likes how organized and cleanly you are, doesn’t mind that you clean his entire house and do all his chores. Actually appreciates that you steam and iron his clothes

Thinks you’re kinda like a housewife. Forgets just how strong you are on occasion

Was reluctant to allow you to open doors for him because he’s a gentleman, even tried arguing with you to stop but eventually gave in and let you

Loves that you’re always prepared by constantly having bandages, extra clothes, first aid kits, etc and that you carry extras of his things in your gem. Originally had to fight you on what you could and couldn’t store in your gem like, you can’t store his wallet or keys in your gem but you can carry his bag and an extra set of keys

Enjoys having you prepare his meals since you learned to cook in order to better ‘serve’ him. Loves the meals you prepare for him

Isn’t too thrilled about your lack of self worth when it comes to his safety. Has had multiple lessons with you and lectures you on why you’re important and how your life is worth something to him

Thinks that the light you can project from your gem is a very useful trick

Enjoys seeing your drawings and knows that your very skilled

Isn’t too worried whenever you get ‘poofed’ and need to reform. He is patient with the time it takes

Doesn’t really care about your shapeshifting abilities but thinks it can be useful

Yuta:

Was extremely thankful to you for teaching him how to sword fight until he realized that you don’t have a sense of self preservation and hates that you would throw your life away for him

Teaches or at least tries to help you learn to be your own person outside of your instincts and pre existing need to serve

Thinks you’re incredibly strong and looks up to you as a pillar of strength and is amazed at how elegant and ballerina like you are when fighting

Since the clan elders don’t think you’re a real person and don’t really understand you or care to, they consider you to be one of his ‘things’ similar to Rika, so you’re allowed to follow him around

Enjoys how you’re able to carry his things and loves watching you summon them from your gem

Thinks it’s cool how you can project holograms and pictures from your gem as well as use it like a flashlight

Thinks your shapeshifting abilities are awesome and interesting

Was terrified when you first got ‘poofed’ and kept your gem on him and wrapped in a soft towel the entire time it took you to reform. Is still extremely worried every time

Sukuna:

Likes that your happy to serve him and devote yourself wholly to him

Was originally annoyed by how much you follow him around and open door and such for him. But once he understood that you do this as a way to show how important he is and your servitude to him, not that you think he’s weak and delicate, he grew to appreciate it and now relishes in it

Gets off on every time you address him as “my lord”

He doesn’t really have many things for you to carry for him so he just lets you carry weapons that he ‘obtained’ (stole from Jujustu Sorcerers) for you and was thrilled to see you become a decent fighter with them

Whenever he’s bored he’ll make you sing or dance for him to entertain him

Thinks your shapeshifting powers could come in handy

Lets you draw him since you’re good at it and may occasionally pose for you

Isn’t too worried about you being ‘poofed’ since he knows you’ll reform but will kill anyone who ‘poofs’ you

Gojo:

Loves to dance with you and has tried to fuse with you on multiple occasions only to fail

Loves to have you sing with him

Doesn’t mind that you open doors and such for him, thinks it’s fine since you enjoy doing it

Lets you carry his bags when he’s shopping since you can just store things in your gem

Loves watching you train against your self projections and even cheers you on which can be distracting

Loves how he doesn’t have to clean or do chores since you enjoy doing them

Loves watching you unknowingly project your dreams when you sleep and will tease you about them

Lets you draw him and has you teach him to draw better but never actually gets any better

Asks you to shape-shift into the weirdest things for his own amusement but you still accept his requests

Is extremely impatient when waiting for you to reform after you get ‘poofed’

[sunnywalnut]

Finished watching Dead Boy Detectives. Here are my honest thoughts.

-If you're going into it expecting another Good Omens, stop. Our protagonists are all minors. Teenagers. They cuss, they have total dirty mouths and sexual humor, but they are not eternal beings pretending to be middle aged men. They're ghosts. Dead Boys, if you will. Also this might be a stretch, but I'm assuming from the slightly less good CGI that the budget for this series was a LOT less than what it was for GO

-Edwin is kind of a dick in the first episode. But it's okay. Because character growth is swag.

-REALISTIC CHARACTER GROWTH!!! I liked Edwin a LOT more during the second episode BECAUSE of the character growth. And honestly? It's completely natural that bro is more than a little prickly after only being able to trust one guy for an extremely long time. Fair enough my guy. Carry on.

- this show kinda has Nimona vibes. If that makes sense. Witty humor, somewhat sexual dialogue, funny moments during serious times, though geared towards a younger audience. If you like those kinds of things, you will like this, I'm sure of it.

- In the early episodes, the pacing/character relationships feel a little off??? I'm not sure if that was because I was expecting another Good Omens or what. But after 2-3 episodes, the dust quickly settled and we got into the actual storyline. Which was extremely appreciated✨

-these villains are FUCKED up. I'm telling you. They are HORRIFIC. Had me squirming and cringing through their intense scenes. And gosh. That was a TRIP.

-TY TENANT PLAYS THE MAIN GUY EDWIN!!!! And he plays him WELL. I did not realize this going in to the show and thought his face was VERY familiar. Only after I looked it up did I realize why. He's our sassy son of Job. (EDIT: turns out Ty plays the Doom Patrol version. Not the one on Netflix. My bad! They do look pretty similar though, so ykw. Great casting. Also my point still stands. This guy is a pretty fuckin awesome actor. 10/10)

-Cat King is such a wild card holy SHIT.

-Charles is cute as fuck. His backstory HURTS. But also. I love the way his ears look. Like in the pictures that I saw of him they were of when the Cat King impersonated him so I was like oh chill. So he's got pointed ears bc feline but NOPE. He's just like that!! And honestly? Slay. I fuckin love it.

-oh did I mention tragic backstories???? Yeah we got those :D for everyone :D

-Niko is the best and I love her. Also I love how the letters on her desk are written in Japanese. That is a VERY nice touch of character building.

-hot butcher lady with throat tattoo

All in all. A truly delightful series and I genuinely hope it gets another season because I NEED to know what happens next. My little sister LOVED it and the ending had us all staring open mouthed at the TV screen in shock.

This 15yo girl is literally ranting my ear off, having adventures with the Dead Boys in her dreams and chatting with me about it, searching up fanfics and drawing fanart, the whole shabang. And it is DIFFICULT for this girl to get into shows like this. So honestly? This is perfect. Thank you, Neil. For giving us a whole other banger.

That being said. If anybody else has some younger siblings that are around 15-17 and are looking for shows to binge watch together, this is the perfect one. I'm telling you, you will NOT regret it (except maybe emotionally)

Thoroughly recommend.

[patito-oward]

Birthday Wishes

masterlist

WC: 2k

Summary: YN gives Pato a birthday surprise

Tags: smut, fluff if you squint, oral (m&f receiving)

It’s a rare day that they get to wake up without an alarm blaring. One of them always has to be up for work or some other engagement, but today Pato is off between races, and YN took off to spend the day with him. Her first thought as she began to wake is to curl deeper into Pato and enjoy as many cuddles as she could before she had to start the day. As soon as she’s awake enough to realize what today is, her plans quickly change.

Pulling back enough to look at Pato, the white sheets are sitting low on his hips, leaving his chest completely exposed. The light coming in through the windows puts a glow on his tan skin, accentuating his abs, and the sunshine has made his chest warm. The trail of hair from his navel to below the sheets teases her, she knows where it leads and it makes her mouth water. She can’t wait anymore and leans over, placing a tentative kiss to his lips.

When that does nothing to wake him she continues, placing a kiss on his cheek, his jaw, his pulse-point, a few down his neck and across his collar bone. “Amor, wake up, it’s your birthday.” He leans his head back to give her more access and smirks, so she knows he’s awake. Straddling him so she can reach better, YN kisses across his other collar bone and up the opposite side of his neck. When she reaches his pulse-point, she scrapes her teeth across it, and he lets out a groan. Continuing the same pattern up his jaw and cheek, YN makes her way back to his lips, and slots their lips together. “Feliz”, another kiss, “Cumpleaños” and another.

“What did I do to deserve all this?” his voice is still laced with sleep.

“Today is your day, and you deserve to be celebrated.”

“Well in that case,” a cocky grin paints his face as he leans back in to kiss her.

They lay together with YN still straddling his waist for a while, neither in any hurry to get the day started. The kiss started, slow, soft, with Pato’s hand cupping her cheek, but grew in intensity. Neither minded the morning breath, or seemed to notice, both too encapsulated with each other.

Pato’s hand ventured from her face down her sides, he slipped a hand under her shirt and quickly found her exposed nipples. He ran his thumb across the hardened bud and relished in the noise it drew from her. The hand still on her waist tentatively pressed down, encouraging her to grind against him. As soon as she did he was moaning into her mouth.

YN can feel the effect their kissing had on him below her, and continued moving against him. Two thin layers of underwear are the only thing between them, and it’s the perfect amount of friction against her.

Pato is panting as she continues to use him, “Amor, please,” he’s never been ashamed to beg if it’ll get him what he wants, which is currently nothing more than to be in YN.

YN isn’t done yet, she wants to put on a show and make him see stars. She slows her hips, but doesn’t completely still them as she sits up and gets rid of his shirt that she wore to bed. His hands immediately go to her waist grabbing hard enough to leave marks. She’s a vision like this, sitting atop his waist in nothing but a small pair of underwear, soaking them both as she uses him to get herself off.

Leaning down to place another kiss to his lips she gathers her hair and ties it out of the way before whispering in his ear. “Alright, birthday boy, make a wish.” She bites playfully at his ear before sitting up, but it clearly has the desired effect on him as he bucks his hips upwards.

“Fuck,” He’s forcing her down onto him now enjoying the moans he’s drawing from her. “sit on my face.”

“Uh-uh, today’s about you and making you feel good.”

“Trust me, there’s nowhere I want to be more than between your thighs right now, please baby.” and YN is a mere mortal so who is she to deny that request, especially when he adds a slight pout to his lip at the end of his sentence.

“Alright, your wish is my command.” He laughs at that a little as she positions herself off of him. YN always thought laughing during sex was a myth but everything with Pato was so different. He made her laugh 24/7 and she was always so comfortable with him. They easily switched from hot and heavy dirty talk to giggles frequently while having sex, or as Pato sometimes referred to it, only to make YN squeem, making love.

YN strips herself of her underwear and climbs back on Pato, this time straddling his chest. Immediately he grabs her ass and starts urging her forward. She keeps herself lifted above him for approximately .3 seconds before he forces her hips down onto his face.

Pato wastes no time in diving straight in. He begins to lap feverishly at her opening, and his nose rubs against her clit. He takes his time, exploring different rhythms as his tongue prods in and out of her entrance. Looking down at him she finds him looking back at her watching how his every movement affects her, and sees nothing but bliss in his eyes.

When he moves his head and starts focusing on her clit she’s done for. As soon as his tongue darts across the bud YN is screaming out and moving her hands from the headboard to his hair. He sucks on her clit and as she shouts, “fuck, baby, so good” she pulls on his hair making him moan into her.

He sets a pattern, alternating between licking and sucking, and she’s a goner. It’s just on the right edge of too much when he starts moaning around her. She can feel the familiar knot forming in her stomach and her thighs are shaking where they’re clenched around his head.

YN screams as she comes undone, and Pato flattens his tongue to let her ride out her high. He rubs her thighs and up her waist as she slowly starts to come down. When she leans forward and hangs her head he can tell how thoroughly fucksd out she looks. It sends a jolt to his cock to know he’s the one that gets her like this.

His cock which has taken a back burner and he is only now realizing is so hard it hurts. YN shimmies her way back down to his waist. “You’re too good to me.” Instead of waiting for an answer she slots their mouths together, tongues automatically beginning to dance.

It’s not rushed like it was before she takes her time exploring his mouth and taking him apart. When she finally pulls back after minutes or hours, Pato’s panting. Without saying anything else she moves on from his mouth, kissing a trail down his jaw, occasionally biting but not hard enough to leave any marks.

He throws his head back and YN continues her path down his throat, softly mouthing over his adam’s apple. Just below his collar bone she bites hard enough to leave a mark which has Pato moaning and begging for more. She knows him well enough to know he’ll walk around shirtless whenever possible this weekend and revel in whatever comments are made about the purple marks across his chest. Not stopping there, she leaves many more across his pecs and down his abs. Switching between leaving marks and tracing his abs with her tongue.

Finally she’s brought to where she’s wanted to be since she first woke up. She’s more laying in between his legs now, the comforter long forgotten and kicked off the bed, and she’s face to face with his happy trail. The V formed by his pelvic bones are teasing her, knowing where they lead.

Cautiously she brings her lips to the head of his cock and mouths at it through the fabric of his underwear. She’s immediately delighted by the darkening spot by his head, and knows there’s precome leaking from his tip.

Hissing he grabs a handful of her hair in a fist, “You can not do that if you want me to last at all.”

In lieu of an answer she removes his boxers, the way his cock springs up and hits his stomach makes her want it more. Settling back in to her spot between his legs, she gently grabs the base and begins working his precome down his shaft to make the glide easier. As she uses a hand to work up and down his shaft, she brings her mouth to the head, and sucks the tiniest bit.

She can tell how on edge he is by the way his hand tugs at her hair, the burn delicious. When another blot of precome escapes him she presses her tongue slightly into his slit making him groan and his hips lift off the bed. “Fuck, baby, please you’re too good”

She basks in the praise and takes more of him into her mouth. She focuses on keeping her throat open and breath even as she tries to take all of him. When her nose touches against his pubic bone she makes her way back up. Pato babbles a lot during sex, “Baby, it’s good, so good, you’re perfect, please please please” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for but she understands, taking him all the way again.

When she pulls back this time she keeps her hand stroking him, then runs her tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock, swirling around the head when she gets there. Alternating between deep throating him and just appreciating his dick because god is it pretty, YN has him tumbling dangerously close towards the edge.

YN can tell he’s almost there because he’s an incoherent mess, muttering words in Spanish and English, pulling on her hair, and begging for more. She can see his abs clenching as she takes him into her throat again. He tries to pull her off by yanking on her hair, but she doesn’t budge, instead he shoots hot liquid down her throat. He really doesn’t mean to but he gets too caught up in the moment and jerks farther into her mouth causing her to sputter and pull off of him. When he comes back down, he sees the tears running down her face and realizes what he did.

He begins to apologize immediately, “Mi amor, I’m so sorry I didn’t want to hurt-“ his rant which was sure to be long winded and unnecessary is cut off by YN slotting their lips back together.

“Hey, I’m all good, no worse for the wear alright?”

He laughs at her, partly because she’s ridiculous, and partly because he’s so in love he can’t believe it. “I love you so much you know. Best birthday ever.”

“Oh yeah? It’s only 10:00, you sure you want to declare that already?”

“Trust me, nothing’s topped that.” he has a shit eating grin on his face and YN rolls off of him and throws a pillow at his head.

“You’re ridiculous,” Pato pulls her into his side to cuddle against him.

“Yeah, but you love me,”

“I do. I don’t know why sometimes, but I do.”

Pato switches the position they’d spent most of the morning in and rolls on top of her, but finds her waist and begins to tickle her. “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing, and on my birthday! Take it back!”

She’s laughing so hard it’s hard for her to get the words out, “Fine, fine, I love you and I know exactly why.”

Pato let’s up on his assault, “Good, now tell me all the reasons.”

YN took the same pillow from before and threw it at him again. “and I thought 25 was the age you were going to grow up, silly me.”

[wa-royal-tea]

— Outnumbered; Simblr Speak Your Language Day

Previous | Beginning | Next

(Transcript & Translations under the cut & here- Click Pics for HQ Version!)

@thebrixtons

Author's Note: Late to the party but hey, I'm still gonna post it bcs why the hell not? Ant knee ways- In my head, the Fredericks has always spoken to each other in Malay (my mother tongue) and sometimes they threw in some Manglish (Malaysian English) here and there. But since I'm writing for simblr, their dialogues are written in English. In this one, I'd think it'd be cool to show some of Alfina's future with their kiddies and how they address each other when conversing. If you find it odd that they kept repeating their names when talking (as in everyone addressing Rae as "along" and Dami as "adik), it's just the way they speak. In some families, it's completely normal to address yourself as your role in the family. So for Rae, since she's the eldest, she is the "Along". The word coming from "Sulung/Sulong" (the first born) and Dami being the younger brother, he is addressed as "adik" (younger brother/sister). You can read more of the explanation on Malay kinship terms here & here! Also, Alfie and his siblings also address themselves based on their roles. So Alfie is also an "Along" between his siblings.

Acasia Manor, Holan (12:30pm)

Alfie: *menguap* Sayang? Dah pukul berapa ni? (*yawns* Sayang? What time is it?)

Catalina: Hmm…tak tau... (Hmm…I don’t know...)

Alfie: Yang, dah tengah hari ni. Kita kena bangun. (Lina, it’s noon. We have to wake up.)

Catalina: Ahad kan? Bagilah saya tidur kejap. Penat ni… (It’s Sunday right? Just let me sleep for a sec. I’m so tired…)

Alfie: Saya okay je kalau awak nak tidur, tapi nanti budak-budak— (I would let you sleep. But the kids—)

Raeliana: Mama! Papa! Tengok Dami ni! (Mama! Papa! Look at what Dami did!)

Catalina: *mengeluh* Kenapa, along? Adik buat apa? (*sighs* What’s wrong, Rae? What did he do?)

Raeliana: Adik conteng buku along! (He scribbled in my book!)

Alfie: Adik, kenapa conteng dalam buku along? Kan papa dah belikan whiteboard untuk adik. Kenapa tak conteng dekat situ je? (Dami, why would you do that? I’ve bought a whiteboard for you, why didn’t you use that?)

Damien: Whiteboard penuh. Adik takleh lukis. (The whiteboard filled. I can’t draw there.)

Catalina: Penuh? Adik tak lap ke? (Filled? Did you not wipe it?)

Damien: Lap? (Wipe?)

Alfie: *mengeluh* Nanti papa ajar adik macam mana nak lap. Pergi mintak maaf dengan along dulu. Kesian dia nanti kena marah dengan cikgu. (*sighs* I’ll teach you how to wipe it. But go to your sister and apologize first. Her teacher is going to get mad at her because you ruined her book.)

Alfie: Adik… (Dami…)

Damien: Tak nak! Along marah adik! (No! She’s mad at me!)

Catalina: Along, adik nak mintak maaf tu. (Rae, he’s trying to apologize.)

Raeliana: *merengus* Tapi buku along… (*grunts* But my book…)

Catalina: Nanti mama beli baru. Adik tu kecik lagi, dia tak faham yang dia buat salah. (I’ll buy you a new one. Dami is still young, he doesn’t understand what he did was wrong.)

Raeliana: Tapi mama… (But mama…)

Catalina: Alongkan kakak? Kenalah beralah. (Rae, you’re the older sister, right? Can’t you give in?)

Raeliana: Tak nak! (No!)

Raeliana: Mama tak sayang along, asyik menangkan adik je. Along benci adik! (You don’t love me. You’re always on his side. I hate him!)

Catalina: Along! (Rae!)

Alfie: Along? Bukak pintu ni sayang. (Rae? Honey? Can you open this door?)

Raeliana (dalam bilik): Tak nak! Mama dengan papa tak sayang along! Semua sayang adik je! (No! You and mama don’t love me! You only love Dami!)

Catalina: Sayang, jangan macam ni. Mama tak cakap pun mama tak sayang along. Mama sayang sangat dengan along. Bukak lah pintu ni. (Honey, don’t be like this. I never said I didn’t love you. I love you very much, my dear. Come on, open this door please?)

Raeliana: Tak nak! Pergi! (No! Go away!)

Damien: Mama?

Damien: Adik…adik buat along nangis? (I make Rae cry?)

Catalina: Adik, apa yang adik buat tu salah tau. Adik tak patut usik barang along. Kalau adik tak reti nak lap whiteboard, adik boleh mintak tolong mama dengan papa tolong buatkan. (Damien, what you did was wrong. You shouldn’t have touched your sister’s stuff. If you didn’t know how to clean your whiteboard, you could’ve asked me or your papa to help.)

Damien: Tapi mama papa sibuk. Mama papa kerja? (But you’re busy. You go to work?)

Alfie: Along ada kan? Adik boleh mintak tolong along. Kalau adik mintak elok-elok, along mesti boleh tolong. (Rae’s with you right? You can ask for her to help you. If you ask nicely, she will help you.)

Catalina: Nanti kalau along dah okay sikit, adik pergi mintak maaf dekat dia. Okay? (You need to apologize to her when she’s feeling better, okay?)

Damien: Okay, mama.

Catalina: Awak pergi ajar Dami macam mana nak bersihkan whiteboard dia. Nanti biar saya pujuk Rae. (Go teach Dami how to clean his whiteboard. I’ll wait for Rae to cool down so I can talk to her.)

Alfie: You sure?

Catalina: Yeah, don’t worry. Pandailah saya nanti. (Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll know what to do.)

Catalina: Along? Sayang? Mama masuk boleh? (Rae? Honey? Can I come in?)

Catalina: Mama masuk eh? (I’m coming in~)

Catalina: Along? Along marah mama lagi ke? (Rae? Are you still mad at me?)

Catalina: Sayang mama, along tau tak anak yang paling mama sayang adalah along? (Rae baby, did you know that you’re the child that I love the most?)

Raeliana: Tipu. (Liar.)

Catalina: Eh, mana ada. Mama cakap betullah. Alonglah anak kesayangan mama. Gula hati mama dengan papa. (I’m telling the truth. You’re my favourite child. You’re my and your papa’s sweetheart.)

Raeliana: Kalau mama sayang along, kenapa mama selalu menangkan adik? Asyik-asyik along kena mengalah dengan dia je. (If you do love me, why would you always side with Dami? It’s always me who has to give in.)

Catalina: Mama mintak maaf sebab asyik suruh along mengalah je. Mama salah sebab buat macam tu. Mama dah marah adik tadi and adik pun nak mintak maaf dekat along. Mama dah cakap dekat dia yang apa dia buat tu salah, dia janji dia tak buat lagi dah. (I’m sorry for making you do that. I shouldn’t pick sides. I’ve told Dami what he did was wrong and he wants to apologize to you. He promised he won’t do it again.)

Raeliana: Hmm…

Catalina: Along nak maafkan dia tak? (Are you going to forgive him?)

Raeliana: Along tak tau… (I don’t know…)

Alfie: Along? Adik datang nak mintak maaf. (Rae? Dami wants to apologize.)

Catalina: Yeah, come in.

Damien: Along, adik mintak maaf. Adik salah. Adik janji tak buat lagi! (Rae, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I won’t do it again!)

Raeliana: Along pun mintak maaf jerit dekat adik. Along tak benci adik, along sayang adik! (I’m sorry too for screaming at you. I don’t hate you, I love you!)

Catalina: Perangai siapalah diorang ikut ni? Saya dengan Clem tak pernah gaduh macam ni. (I wonder who they take after. I’ve never fought with Clem like they do.)

Alfie: Perangai sayalah kot. Saya dengan Dira selalu jugak gaduh waktu kitorang kecik dulu. Macam nak roboh rumah kalau kitorang gaduh. (Probably me. Dira and I got into fights like these before. Just worse because we almost turned the palace upside down.)

Catalina: Hmm, mungkin. (Hmm, maybe.)

Alfie: Lina, next time jangan buat macam tu lagi, okay? (Lina, next time, don’t do what you did earlier, okay?)

Catalina: Buat apa? (Do what?)

Alfie: You know? Picking a side? Kesian Rae, saya faham perasaan dia bila awak mintak dia beralah tadi. Ibu pun pernah suruh saya mengalah dengan adik-adik saya waktu saya kecik. All because I’m the eldest. (You know? Picking a side? I feel bad for Rae. I understand what she feels when you asked her to give in to Dami. Mum used to tell me to do the same too for Dira and Hugo. All because I’m the eldest.)

Alfie: You’ve never felt it before sebab awak dengan Clem rapat. Korang tak pernah gaduh and if korang gaduh pun, Clem yang mungkin kena beralah since awak adik dia. (You’ve never felt it before because you’re close with Clem. You’ve never fought with her and even if you did, chances are, it was Clem who had to give in since you’re younger.)

Catalina: I understand. Saya janji tak buat lagi lepas ni. (I understand. I won’t do it again, promise.)

Alfie: Sumpah eh? (Swear on it.)

Catalina: Iya~ I swear I won’t do it again. (Yes~ I swear I won’t do it again.)

Alfie: Good.

Catalina: Ini baru dua orang tau anak kita. Ni esok-esok tambah lagi satu adik, lagi haru lah kita. (This is with only two kids, can you imagine what happens when they have another sibling? We’re gonna be outnumbered.)

Alfie: Alah, bukannya nak dapat adik lagi pun kan? (Eh~ It’s not like we’re having another baby, right?)

Catalina: Manalah tau~ (Hmm~ Who knows?)

Alfie: Wait…

Catalina: Apa? (What?)

Alfie: Are we…?

Alfie: Oh my god! Seriously?

Catalina: Serious lah~ Rae dengan Dami nak dapat adik lagi. (I’m serious~ We’re having another baby.)

Alfie: Makin riuh lah nanti rumah kita. (It looks like we’re going to have our hands full soon.)

Catalina: Mhm~

[motherakuma]

OKAY OKAY! I understand now- all the drama that's been going on. My words I have to say to this?? Uh-- honestly not much.

Fans have been gross and rude, and mean, and judging so uhm. From someone who has watched the show since it first started- it was better then, yes, but now- it's still good. Not as great- but it's still good.

I understand the mentally ill people are unhappy- I uh- still don't exactly understand projecting? And this is no hate! I just need to do some research, that's all. I know I can relate to a character- but- I don't understand the projecting- but uh- you do you?

I'm disgusted by how some of the fans have been acting lately- sending death threats, making rude and disgusting rants, etc.

So- rambling basically over with- I'm tired. This show is amazing, I love it, I have for 2 years- I love it so much.

Davis and Reed do such an amazing job, and massive kudos to them. And again. I guess- I've just come to terms with what they do? It is there show after all, and I guess if they want to mock people they can. But still- I haven't watched the episode so I don't exactly know if it's mocking.

Davis and Reed are grown adults. They know what they're doing. I say, if you don't like what's going on- just leave. Grow up and leave.

I've learned throughout my life, that people have free will. You just have to make peace with that. Move on, you'll find another thing you like, it's not the end of the world.

I used to ramble about how I would never find a new hyperfixation- or nothing could be better than The Sun and Moon Show- but honestly- here I am.

I'm tired of being slandered for shipping certain characters, I hate it when people accuse others- like- please. Calm down, you're not going to die.

So- I guess this is well- a goodbye? I've come to terms that my hyperfixation is dwindling, there is too much drama and fighting and toxic things flying around.

I have no beef with Davis and Reed, I think they should continue doing what they're doing. If your feelings are hurt- that's kinda on you. If you're being mentally affected by this, go take a break. Breath some air. Touch grass. /pos

Honestly- you know when your hyperfixation is dwindling when the burnt dorito cheeto isn't looking as scrumptious as he was before 😔

But all jokes aside- I guess this is goodbye, SAMS fandom! You have filled my sketchbook, filled my heart, and like- A LOT of my tumblr and more.

I'll be shifting to just the DCA and Kinitopet fandom; it's fresh and a new start for me. I'll decide what to do with my Ao3- I'll probably discontinue works, and maybe orphan some others.

This was basically the last thread for me- I hope y'all have fun! I have to go unsubscribe to my 147 SAMS youtubers I'm subscribed to- haha!

Honestly- this is not sad or tear felt for me- I honestly feel pretty relieved. I'm still going to talk to my mutuals, and like their stuff- just- I won't be posting about the show, any fan art I won't draw, all that.

I hate to disappoint my followers too- I know I only have 28- but they might be sad. So I'm sorry!!! But- at the same time I'm not. It's my choice, and I'm gonna have fun! <3

Buh bye, SAMS fandom! I hope it gets better for you all! <3

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 15 Thoughts: Seasoned Hunters

What a fucking episode. No complaints at all. It's just solid gold all the way through and just like gold it's a dense so there is lots to dig in to, and not much point in a preamble.

Spoilers for episode 15, and all of TMA, below the cut.

I really like the introductory office drama portion of today's episode. It's not particularly enlightening, and there isn't anything new in it, but it sets the stage well. Yes, that was a pun. Alice reacted to the news as I knew she would, because she can't help herself. But other than that I really like the mention of Luke playing at The Glad. Magnus stuff always does a really good job of peppering in real places.

This incident was also incredibly short. However unlike last week's episode I think it utilised that time so much better. All of it was a slow build up to one event and was really just three scenes. Set up, hunt, conclusion. Simple and to the point but incredibly effective. Last week's episode felt like too big of an idea bent to fit too short of a time, while this weeks felt like a good story that was given the time it needed and no more or less. Really big fan of the whole thing.

The incident didn't have too much to really get into here. If I were live blogging you would've seen me say "Lady Mowbray?!?!" when the Caterer said "the really high-end stuff". I have been waiting for something aristocratic. The set up is a little cliché but I really like the subversion of Battle Royale instead of The Most Dangerous Game. It's not only an effective twist when the story is from the Caterer's PoV it's a much better insight into the characters were being introduced to. It also highlights something fairly interesting about TMP vs TMA. This incident is one of the most singular in terms of its representation of a TMA Entity but that expectation is somewhat subverted by having these characters hunt each other for another rather than all be hunted down. It wouldn't be out of place in TMA but it is taking a bit of a different approach.

Speaking of the characters though. Fuck Yeah. Lady Mowbray. Finally. I, and probably all of Statement Remains, have been waiting for her appearance since last October when some lucky folks got to meet her bodyguards as part of the ARG. I didn't have her pegged for a badass cannibal but here we are. She really surpassed my expectations. I love aristocratic monster people so I had high hopes and I am still pleasantly surprised.

Celia and Lady M's interaction is really great. I love that we're getting more and more evidence that Celia is clearly more than she's letting everyone else in on. I, obviously at this point, think she's from TMA's universe for a lot of reasons. Lady M not being able to place why she smells so wrong but picking up on her being out of place is just more evidence of that. Celia holding her ground and not taking any shit from Lady M is also incredible. She just listened to how she eats people, gets jumped scared by her, and then instantly tells her to fuck off by way of not giving her a name. She's really living up to the Ripley namesake and I love every second of it.

I will not soon forget that tiny little tease about Bouchard lore either. Actually cruel.

Luke and Alice at the bar wasn't a big moment but it's nice to see her interact with more than just her co-workers. Meeting Luke and he being seemingly normal was also nice, be a shame when he dies.

The final section was phenomenal. I really love it when these shows break format and what a format break it was. So first things first this was recorded on a tape recorder. Significant for likely obvious reasons but unlike the last time these showed up this one isn't an incidental placement like the Institute's one. It was being carried by the woman. We know Alice feels like she's been followed since that incident and this is likely related to it but I don't think it's related in the most obvious sense. There is a very obvious conclusion to draw from TMA knowledge but I feel like that might be folly here. It seems a little too obvious and a little too strained at the same time. The Institute and [Error] being so related to that and in this fashion I think would feel a bit forced, and so this feels more like a red herring to me. Something is going on with them but I don't think it's going to be that.

So Drowning Victim, as she is credited, is super intriguing for a million reasons. Continuing on from that prior thought it's quite possible that the tape recorder and Alice being in the same place is entirely coincidental. It's one of those things that feels like a scheme from TMA context but everything being linked feels too TMA to me for right now. But what she's saying is really interesting. Because with those tape recorders it sounds like a statement. It's not just random mumbling but a fairly coherent narrative. Or a recalling of prior events. Whether the Drowning Victim is the original PoV for that potential statement is hard to say. I doubt it but it would be possible. Another strong idea here is that it is linked to [Error] and her deal might be another archive. Instead of just collection and storage she could be able to force others to relive them through the statements. That's a TMA parallel I think would be a much stronger use of TMA's theme.

Outside of that Alice's interaction with her is so so well done. I think it's really important to show that Alice both has a heart and is able to stop with her attitude when it's really important. Getting to see that when push comes to shove she can step up is going to be something that'll come back around. We all know that everyone at the OIAR is in for a world of hurt and I think Alice is the person the fanbase has the biggest issue with in that sort of context so far. And her singing Nellie the Elephant for compression rate is sort of heart breaking to listen to. Just a really fantastic performance from Billie and people better be nicer to Alice after this. I better not hear her getting any shit for running away either. She gave CPR to a woman who basically attacked her, drowned in the middle of London, died, and then kept talking.

Also, quite note, this episode had five new voice actors in it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet

Klaus Watch: Wasn't expecting this to return so soon but here we are. This incident doesn't appear on Klaus but what does is this, CAT1RB2373-10072023-########. This has the accompanying note "Dame M" and a location "London, England".

DPHW Theory: 6451 is a pretty reasonable rating for this. Hunting mostly focused on the killing part of it. Some mental compulsion, seclusion, and obviously the predator/prey dynamic. The 1 in Weird is more evidence that 1 is the lowest rating with 0 being the highest. Nothing Weird in this one really.

CAT# Theory: CAT1 has a person in it.

I'm still debating whether to do a post on that theory because part of me does feel like it'd ruin other people's fun. Another part of me thinks that theories as prolific as that deserve to be scrutinised as intently as possible. Although there is a problem with that idea because my DPHW theory that has become the default does seem to be mine and I've not seen any cases of parallel thought on that one. The CAT theory has 10+ individuals all coming to roughly the same conclusion though and I'm not sure if that makes it more fair game or not. I, personally, welcome any challenges to my theories and I know some people who have posted the CAT theory do but that's not the same as them all holding that stance. It's not really possible to single anyone out either as it's not about any single person but the idea itself. IDK, give your thoughts on it.

This one does solidly fit into that theory though.

R# Theory: B sounds good to me. Although it's worth mentioning that there is a hyphen in this header between the rank and the DPHW.

Header talk: Hunt (Aristocratic) -/- Compulsion is interesting for two reasons. First off it being Hunt sort of precludes, secondly Compulsion is a strange filing for this IMO. There was an element of it but it was fairly minor and didn't seem like the thrust of the episode. The Caterer was compelled to be quiet but wasn't forced to hunt the rest of the brigade. He chose that when he realised what Lady M. was getting at.

[crazylittlejester]

I started typing and it got out of control...

I don't know if you've watched Ever After High or not, but I've been re-watching the entire show on account of not having much to do and I've come to the conclusion that an LU crossover with EAH would be absolutely awesome. The general idea is that characters from fairytales grow up and have kids that re-enact their parents' stories and this happens over and over again to the point that their entire society is built around this. Since they have a magic book that kind of seals your fate if you sign it, this is where the conflict of the show comes from.

Obviously there are a few different ways a person could go about setting this up but I'm just going to pick out fairy tale parents and backstories for them because I think that's the most fun.

Warriors: I'm thinking that he'd be best as Helen of Troy. Greek mythology is canon in EAH because of Cupid, so it works. The same themes of lust and infatuation are present. Also war.

Wild: He fits Sleeping Beauty's story the most, but that's already taken so the next best thing is Rip Van Winkle. It's only 20 years compared to 100, but I think it's the closest I'm getting for now, and the point is that he wakes up as an old man.

Sky: I think he should be the guy from the jabberwocky poem that uses the vorpal sword to defeat it. The jabberwocky is supposed to be the most powerful monster in EAH last I checked, so it would be the closest equivalent to Demise other than the Evil Queen.

Legend: Given that wizards are supposed to live a long time, Merlin would be a good fit for Legend because he'd have a few centuries to finish growing up into a mature wizard. He could still be a veteran of adventures this way without sacrificing his magical abilities.

Twilight: Unfortunately there aren't really any stories about wolves that aren't villains so he's tragically stuck being a non-descript farmer. I'm so sorry. Under other circumstances he'd get to be one the guy from "East of the Sun and West of the Moon" except that guy is a bear and not a wolf.

Wind: I'm torn between picking an infamous pirate or a story from mythology. Either one would probably work, to be honest, but it would probably work better if Tetra was a pirate's daughter and he's related to a deity in charge of ocean storms.

Hyrule: Ended up picking Jack the Giant Killer for him because that story's about surviving because you're clever, and Hyrule's games are supposed to be ridiculously hard. Also there's a magic sword involved.

Four: With the Minish he could totally fit into the story about the little elves that help the tailor/cobbler. But there's a story called "The Four Skillful Brothers" and I can't say no because it literally ends with them rescuing the princess via teamwork and splitting the reward.

Time: I feel like he'd fit in best as some kind of forest spirit or changeling, but as the Hero's Shade he could also be Godfather Death. I've been thinking about it and I really can't come up with a good placement for him.

Spirit Tracks Link gets an honorary mention because he is canon in my heart. Since New Hyrule is in the middle of the industrial revolution he's probably more of an urban legend. Either the ghost of a train conductor's kid or a guy cursed to see ghosts like his Zelda.

I know nothing about ever after high but im obsessed with what you’ve just said to me oh my god

first of all anytime someone draws the connection between Wars and Helen of Troy I loose my mind a bit, one day when I have the proper brain capacity and time I’m going to write a whole ass analysis paper on the comparison between the two of them because its so important to me

ALSO JABBERWOCKY MENTION??? I’M OBSESSED. AND JACK THE GIANT KILLER FOR HYRULE?? dude I can see you spent sooo much time thinking about this and oh my god I am so obsessed this is really cool, you ate

[innerchorus]

Arslan Senki Chapter 128 (Part 2)

What a top choice, contrasting Arslan, the ruler Pars needs, being unable to draw the sword that would prove his right to rule, with Hilmes, who is choosing to brute force a coronation ceremony in order to give his position legitimacy.

While Arslan freely admits that his bloodline gives him no claim, Hilmes is still trying to maintain the lie that he is the son of Osroes. Ugh, watching him falter over this line during the ceremony was hard. He is far from at his best here, but I still have sympathy for him despite all that he's done.

However he needs to BE NICER TO ZANDEH, DAMN IT.

Things in Ecbatana... are not good. We get an overview: dry wells, Andragoras's growing army outside, closed gates, dwindling food, friction between citizens and soldiers, all combined to insinuate that it's only a matter of time before Hilmes's control of the city is overturned.

And a coronation won't fix this, (and nor will a crown patch up the emotional damage that was inflicted on him by Andragoras's big reveal) but what else can Hilmes do right now?

Ashamed to say I laughed at this. His face...

Man, Zandeh really is trying his best in this chapter. He and his men were the ones who went scrounging up golden coins to melt down in order for Hilmes to actually have a crown to wear after Guiscard stole the real one, but Hilmes isn't in the mood to appreciate his efforts.

(That little guy is with him in this scene, looking nervous of Hilmes's reaction! Feels like Zandeh also knows Hilmes isn't going to love what they've done, but as he says, it's the best they can do for now.)

The fact that Zandeh adores Hilmes and can't wait to see him crowned yet is willing to tell it to him straight: calling Sam away from defending the underground waterways to attend to coronation ceremony is a bad move.

Fucking ouch. At least he didn't tell Zandeh to go and watch the passageways himself!

'The ceremony was a miserable, spare, and unsatisfying one' 🙃

Starting out strong.

My boy is so happy!

When Hilmes starts talking about 'King Osroes's legitimate heir', things start to go to shit. He falters, Sam and Zandeh can see something is wrong (and while Zandeh is puzzled, you know Sam knows) and then after failing to get the words out twice Hilmes rips the cloth off his scar and fucking commits to that lie.

I wanted a mask-free coronation for Hilmes but NOT LIKE THIS 😭

Sacrificing Innocentis to the gods isn't going to make that lie any truer, but Hilmes is just grasping at anything that will give him even a whisper of security right now.

Zandeh is very into it, lmao. I love him but am unsurprised to see his rough treatment of Innocentis. If I recall correctly he was excited about the idea of killing him before.

Filing this away under 'things that should not be hot'. (Also noting that he removed his armour for the ceremony 👀 and that he's abandoned the idea of burning Innocentis alive in favour of a different method.)

Also... how blind can you be, Hilmes? "Thus will I show what happens to those of other lands whose ambitions threaten the peace of Pars!"? Pars is your own country, and you facilitated that. Pars would likely still be at peace if not for you and your ambitions.

Anyway, Innocentis, who is likely delirious with fever from his wound, asks for sugar water, which enrages Hilmes so much he's about to strike him with his sword, when who should burst in (no doubt through those poorly-defended waterways, sigh) than Team Arslan?

(The coronation ceremony is taking place 10 days after Team Arslan set out for Mount Demavant. Chapter 126 says they 'rode East along the Continental Highway for several days' until they encountered Don Ricardo, so it seems a little more time has passed between the events of the first part of the chapter and those of the second).

This fills me with fear because no way will Hilmes withdraw.

Anyway, there's a panel of Team Arslan entering the room where you can't see what weapon Arslan is holding. Rukhnabad, you there?

[fenny-v1]

normal animals

[akans-dead-at-sea]

It's alright

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