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#soft sniper sunday
a-lil-perspective · 2 years
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Crosshair: I don’t like it.
Hunter: You don’t like anything.
Crosshair: I like rifles and you guys.
Crosshair: And I’m not admitting that out loud again for at least another decade.
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moonstrider9904 · 2 years
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Sweet Home
Part 1 of Bread and Tea
Summary: after a long and tiring trip, you and Crosshair settle down in your little cottage in the forest and are met by rainy weather.
Tags/warnings: None, really. Just some soft!Crosshair, established relationship, couple banter, and a pinch of self-indulgence. Reader is wearing cozy clothing and likes doing so, likes cream in her coffee and is shorter than Crosshair (again, self-indulgent).
Word count: 901
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{Next chapter >}
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He stood with his back leaning on the doorframe, coffee cup in his hands as the rain began to pour down. Crosshair had opened the door on purpose, knowing it would start to rain soon, longing to feel the cool breeze of a rainy evening. Few things whispered home more than that.
Thunder boomed around the little cottage in the forest. Behind him, the warmth and orange glow of his home radiated onto him, while in front the storm raged on as though to welcome him herself. He brought his cup of coffee to his lips, smiling just barely into it as the flavor filled his senses, and he breathed deeply as a flash of lightning announced another boom of thunder and the rain fell with more force.
Storms like that one made him feel alive, and when he heard the sound of steps approaching him, his smile widened. There was someone else in that house who shared his sentiment towards the rain.
He was just turning around when your hand softly brushed up his arm, covered by the wool of his black sweater with two horizontal brown lines along the chest, one of the very first presents you’d given to him. The gentle touch on his arm became a full embrace on your behalf, your cheek resting on his arm as you took a moment to watch the rain with him.
Crosshair looked down at you until he finally turned fully to have you in front of him, his gaze softening as he observed what you wore. You’d traded the light, summer clothing, with its thin fabrics and missing sleeves, for a heavy oversized sweater and cotton pajama bottoms, the ones with the mushroom pattern that made you giggle.
He loved the way you looked wearing what you loved, but what he loved even more was knowing you were far happier in that than you were during your trip.
The wind blew in your direction, granting you a whiff of the cup in Crosshair’s hand, making you smile as it entered your nostrils. Coffee now always reminds you of him, and it just made your arms around him tighten, making you want to snuggle into his chest, feel the wool of his sweater warming your face.
But if you were honest, you had also begun craving the coffee in his hands, making you perk up on your toes to get a look of it. At the sight of the nearly pitch-black liquid, you huffed, making a smooth, rich laugh form at Crosshair’s chest.
“You’re a no-cream-no-sugar monster,” you bantered.
“And you’re a bit of an all-cream-and-sugar goblin yourself,” he sneered playfully, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Meanwhile, my coffee’s as dark as my soul.”
“Your evil act never convinced me, my love,” you told him. “A man with a dark soul wouldn’t be wearing the cozy sweater his girlfriend gifted him.”
“Of course he would,” Crosshair bared his teeth, his banter evident in the way his eyes gleamed at you.
You leaned your chin on his chest, looking up at him and fluttering your eyelashes.
“What?” He asked you, knowing the eyelash trick was code for I want something.
“Can I have a sip?” You asked him, eyeing his coffee cup.
Crosshair sighed and he snaked out of your grip, taking one step back to look at you. His deep brown eyes looked you up and down as a devious little smile found its way to his lips, and he brought a hand to the top of your head, grinning at you.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he teased you. “You’re so short, drinking as much caffeine as this will make you go a bit crazy. You won’t be able to sleep.”
You pouted at him. “Jerk.”
“Your jerk.” He set the coffee cup on the little table beside the door and swiftly pulled you towards him, swaying both of your bodies gently to the tune of the rain as another round of thunder engulfed the forest.
You looked each other in the eyes, both smiling softly at each other as you felt the warmth radiate between you.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he said softly, bending over to kiss your forehead again.
You caught him before he pulled away, his hand, half-covered by the sleeve of your sweater, brushing tenderly along his cheek as your eyes gazed into his with the same utter sweetness that had made him fall in love with you one day. Your eyes fell on his lips, those thin, soft, warm lips you’d always find solace in.
Crosshair’s hand then went up to your cheek as well, and he pulled you up to finally grant you the kiss on the lips you’d been yearning for. Your weight collapsed onto his arms, letting him be the only one keeping you standing.
You felt him smile proudly into the kiss, smug at the effect he had on you.
Gently, you smacked his back, letting him know not to get cocky with you. Crosshair only chuckled in response; you knew from day one being with him meant being with his cocky bastard side as well, but you wouldn’t trade that for anything.
You hugged him again, your head resting on his chest, making you able to hear his heartbeat, the sound lulling you into peace.
You were finally home.
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Taglist: @zoeykallus @sageislostinspring @misogirl828 @dangerousstrawberrypie @salaminus @ladykatakuri @whore4rex @morganlefaye13
{Next chapter >}
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piccolos-bigtoe · 11 days
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Hello everypony,,, I've been gone for a hot minute O.o Haven't I.... Anyways heres another fake book cover. I really haven't been in a huge drawing mood, and I miss it a lot. I want to keep practicing these because it's fun and I want to make cool posters for myself and stuff like that. I copied it from another cover (down below...) because the title was too funny. I don't know what a truckers chicken is, I don't know why truckers would have chickens (animal or food??). I looked at the word trucker so much that it's just gibberish to me and I had to check over and over if it was spelt right LOL.
Sniper my queen,,,, release the tatas... Ignore the backgroudn. ofc I know how to draw trucks.. Okay Inknow what ypu'er thinking, dear reader, "Gee whiz Piccolos-Bigtoe!!! ANOTHER speeding bullet drawing? AND shirtless Sniper??? How very original of you..." and you're right, it is original, and I'm not sure if I've done it before now, but I will keep doing it. Lowkey it is my coping at this point,,, I project my personal issues onto them to make writing about it easier.... Blah
I'm going to be real right now with you all.... controversial opinion ahead........ I am not compelled by the thought of soft gentle twink Scout. Before you boo me and throw tomatoes- I think he's fun and cool, and I enjoy others depictions, but I like to imagine him as some an asshole overconfident wanna be hunk, annoying, reactive, always talking up a big game about mostly useless things but he can't handle his ego being bruised. but it's all a facade to hide his true emotions that he feels deep down (BOOO CLICHE!!!!)... </3 I went crazy Sunday night,, wrote like a whole thing about it.
Also I almost got into an accident today because while I was driving home from work some old lady decided to pull out from a parking lot and gave me like 5 seconds to slam on the breaks. Good bye until next time. Which is hopefully soon. I miss drawing
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techs-goggles9902 · 13 days
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Soft!Crosshair and fem!reader please
Maybe with something about his hand tremors?
Why did you wait for me? - Soft!Cross x fem!reader
REQUESTS OPEN FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS. READ TERMS BEFORE REQUESTING ON MY MASTERLIST
Word count: 767
Warnings: none? Lmk if I missed something
A/N: Hey, I really wanna know who these anons are or if they’re the same person so I can thank you for these requests!!!! Sorry if this feels rushed or anything. I will happily rewrite it next week if requested. I’ve been sick since Sunday and I feel like trash :P
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Ever since he came back, he’s been… off. His calloused fingers, his eyes, his voice, all once so familiar, now somewhat foreign.
But he’s your Crosshair, he always comes around. You’re his girl. This is no different. Right? And, he always comes back. It’s only been a few hours since the Marauder landed on Padu’s upper level, your home, at the crack of dawn. You were roused by that familiar chime on your comlink.
What the hell, Hunter, you thought when you woke. Couldn’t he wait a few more hours until your alarm went off?
He couldn’t, which you now know.
You met the batch while they were on leave a few years back, fell in love with that tall, lanky sniper of theirs. Once Order 66 happened, Hunter advised you to come with them since Crosshair wasn’t the man you met anymore.
You found Pabu, where you settled down while the boys didn’t. Could you blame them, though?
“Stop staring at me like that, Cross,” you say as you cook him breakfast in your warm kitchen, feeling his gaze dig holes in the back of your head as he sits at the island.
“I’m sorry… I just can’t…” he pauses, swallowing. “I can’t believe you actually waited for me.”
“How could I not? You’re you. No matter what Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” You turn, about to scrape the eggs onto his plate when you see his watery eyes. Those dark irises that usually pierce into people’s souls now desperately gaze into your own.
“I… I did a lot of bad things. Why do you still love me?” He whispers as you slowly put down the pan of eggs. You step around the island to embrace the sniper, his face buried into your sternum.
“Shhh… You didn’t have a choice, back at Tantiss.” His shaky hands lock around the fabric of your shirt. He doesn’t make any sound, just lets the tears stream down his narrow face, catching on his stubble.
“That doesn’t answer my question, love.”
You sigh, cupping his tear stained face in your soft palms. “I loved you during the war, loved you when you left on missions, I loved you when you joined the Empire. This is no different. You’re mine, I’m yours.”
His eyes widen ever so slightly as he gazes up at you, for once.
“How ‘bout we get some food, real food, in you and then we’ll talk?” You softly ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” He nods and you let him go to slide the eggs onto his plate. Watching him eat, you see the muscles working in his jaw as he chews, his temporalis bulging with each bite.
You haven’t seen him since… Kamino. You begged, pleaded for him to join the batch. You remember how he declined and begged for you to join the Empire, they’ll understand, he said.
He finishes eating and you scoop up his plate, turning away to put it in the sink. When you turn around, he’s gone off to your bedroom. You follow, thinking, I bet he hasn’t slept in a while. I mean, really slept.
He stops in the doorway of your room, turning back to you. He quietly asks, “Can I…”
“You don’t need to ask me for anything. What’s mine is yours.”
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You sit against your headboard, his head in your lap. Before, you used to card your hands through his silver curls. Now… You make due with caressing his growing follicles, careful of his lumpy, dented scar.
His hands tremble as they lie against your knee. You tap his fingertip.
“Are you scared?” You ask.
“What? No, why?”
“Your hands.”
“Oh… It just came one day.”
“Tell me… What happened?” You tenderly take his shaking hand in your own and you run your fingers over his too-short nails. Hemlock must’ve had them cut so he wouldn’t claw someone’s eyes out.
Poor Cross… Hemlock’s dying for this.
“You remember the shadows?”
“Mmhmm. The clone assassins.”
“He… Hemlock tried to recondition me into one… I was tested…” He doesn’t have to finish his explanation.
You’re quiet for a beat before you say, “I’m sorry, Cross…”
“Don’t be. You couldn’t do anything.”
“You know, a friend of mine has tremors, too. We can try exercises to… help cope, if you’d like,” you say, pressing your thumb pad down onto his knuckles for a gentle massage.
“I’ll give it a shot, love,” Crosshair says, rolling onto his back to look up at you.
“I love you, Crosshair.”
“I love you too, riduur. You’re my girl.”
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Riduur = spouse in Mando’a
Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @dangraccoon @skellymom @hellhound5925 LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR TAKEN OFF TAGLIST
Dividers by @ saradika
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charnelhouse · 2 years
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i would kill for another lloyd x six banter! you wrote them so perfectly
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A/N: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader x Court Gentry (Six). Mentions of sex. Follow-up from this lil drabble.
What really irritates Lloyd is Six's impenetrable calm. He's a statue - a totem in a forest fire. Lloyd has watched Six walk off three bullet wounds and reset a break in his own leg without making a sound. 
He’s positive the man is a droid. You disagree.
“He was trained to handle pain, Hansen,” you remind him. “He’s never had anything soft. He’s just as fucked up as you are, but he doesn’t show it.”
“Wow,” Lloyd grumbles. “So basically I’m a sentimental baby?”
“If the shoe fits.”
“I’m going to wreck you, princess.”
The thing is Lloyd really fucking admires Six. He’s got street cred. The man has dragged himself out of the most dire of situations. 
Still - they bicker like an old married couple. 
Or Lloyd needles and Six just takes it, which is incredibly annoying.
For him, it’s always a competition. For Court, it’s not. St. Courtney cares about three things:
33
Getting the job done.
Remaining anonymous.
The rest is frosting. 
Even tonight, Lloyd is full of adrenaline that he does not know where to put. He's fucked you three ways from Sunday and he still can't temper the electricity bounding through his blood.
Let me bother Courtney.
He stalks into the kitchen where Court is cleaning his oversized sniper rifle. 
The blonde shoots him a passing glance, his mouth lifting at the corner as he returns to his gun. “Finally come up for air?”
Lloyd smirks as he throws open the fridge door. He’s in nothing, but his boxer briefs. His pale skin is marked in love bites and scratches. “She needs sustenance, you know?” He combs through his sweat-damp hair. “Fluids that aren’t my jizz.”
Court grimaces. “Thank you for that visual. I didn’t know the word “jizz” was back in style.”
Lloyd turns toward him, one hand clutching a stained Chinese take-out box and the other wrapped around a bottle of pedialyte. “You wouldn’t know what’s in style seeing as you were in jail for like 75% of your life.”
Court chuckles and shakes his head. He slides a blue cloth along the barrel of the rifle, his fingers light and fluttery. Lloyd’s tongue darts across his lower lip as he’s reminded of just how good Court is with his hands. His stroke game is peak. Hand jobs next level. “It seems like hickeys are, too,” Court remarks as he gestures to the purple-red bruises along Lloyd’s chest and throat. 
He shrugs. “She likes branding me, what can I say?”
Court tuts. “Nah, Hansen - you like when she brands you. It’s like your security blanket.”
Lloyd’s mouth drops open before he abruptly shuts it. Looks like Court was in a mood. He wasn’t normally this...sassy. 
Fuck. Yeah. 
Leisurely, he strolls toward the table. He plops the brown-stained take-out box and bottle of blue liquid on the hard wood before placing both palms flat on the surface and leaning forward. “Is someone grumpy that they weren’t invited to September Fuckfest ‘22?”
Court frowns. “No?”
“I think you are,” Lloyd taunts. “I think you’re pouting out here because we locked the door.”
Carefully, Court places his gun on the table. He leans back in his chair, lifting his dark gaze to Lloyd which causes a new heat to blossom under his skin. Sometimes - Lloyd cannot distinguish between wanting to fuck St. Courtney and wanting to be him. 
There’s no one like Lloyd Hansen, but there is equally no one like The Gray Man. 
“Lloyd,” Court uses a tone fit for a teacher explaining calculus to a five-year old. “She told me you two needed some one on one.” He cocks his head, wrinkling his nose. “I think she wanted to make sure you weren’t all depressed over fucking that Russian chick.”
Lloyd blanches. “I did not fuck her.”
Court scrapes a hand over his jaw, his expression thoughtful. “Mmm not sure - kind of looked like you did.”
“What?!” That is a fucking lie. Either the footage was grainy or he’s being set up. “I fingered her - that was it! It barely counts. We just kissed and I wasn’t even that hard. Jesus Christ - I didn’t want to do that stupid fucking mission in the first place - you should have-”
“Hansen,” Court laughs, holding a palm out. “I’m fucking with you.”
Lloyd pauses, his thundering heartbeat is still popping in his ears. It takes him a minute to register Gentry’s words and then he scowls. “Fuck you, Court.
Court crosses his arms over his chest, his teeth glinting beneath the warm kitchen light. “If it’s any consolation - she did want you to herself. I think she was jealous.”
Oh? Well - that changes things. 
A bolt of pleasure slides through Lloyd. It’s hot and comforting as it unfurls within his chest. It’s a bit of truth he’ll nurse for a long damn time. 33 wasn’t so impassive. You cared. 
“Really?”
“Mm yeah,” Court replies before pinning Lloyd with a roguish grin that illuminates his ken-doll face. It’s disarming. It’s rare and it really fucking works for his roughened handsomeness. “She rode me while we reviewed the surveillance footage.”
Lloyd blinks at him. He can’t even be mad. 
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hatosaur · 1 year
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tlou hbo ep.4 & ep.5 thoughts.
more analyze-y than the others ones because i’m talkin thru my damn feelings >:,(
getting ep. 4 outta the way real quick because it was mostly setting up for ep. 5 but also i didn’t get to rewatch it since last sunday so memory’s fuzzy.
i’ve seen people have mixed reactions to ep.4 and i get it, because it was so different to how it played out in the game. biggest breaking point from game-joel was a) him talking about tess (which i felt broke a rule for his character) and b) him being openly kind to ellie. being soft with her when she shoots the hunter. laughing at her joke. these aren’t the end of the world. i can see how it was all to show he’s warming up to ellie but it did still feel odd.
i do kinda get the sense that him being mean old joel would wreck the momentum and tone, since we’re not watching pre-rendered cutscenes sandwiched between gameplay segments. you can’t have the danger happening and THEN joel’s yelling at ellie. that’s just TENSION TENSION TENSION; him being nice and open was a good way to balance things out and give us (and ellie) a breather.
so ep. 5. i have to fuckin take deep breaths.
once again, i can’t fucking believe that i can know exactly what’s going to happen and this show will still floor me. i’m broken over the immediacy that henry killed sam with, different from henry talking out his thoughts in the game. his scared, stammered “what did i do?” as he looks to joel, because he can’t believe what he just did.
when i look back to game-henry, it wasn’t emphasized all that much that he was pretty much still a kid, taking care of a kid. show-henry had plenty of those moments. both versions are cocky but the cockiness show-henry has was more kid-like, especially in his interactions with joel, and it only made it hit harder when he looked at him in those last moments, as if for help, and when joel tried to gently get the gun away from him. i’m very glad for them amping up the connection between joel and henry.
the choices they made with sam were amazing. the kid was a great actor and i love seeing all the extra bits that came with him being deaf. i knew it wouldn’t matter all that much that he was younger and deaf; what mattered at the end of the day was his connection with ellie and they fuckin knocked it out of the park. i love that even without them being close in age, they latched onto each other anyway.
the bit with ellie’s blood was such an interesting change. because that was a stellar way of showing despite her maturity, she’s still a kid too. you can tell she really believed she could save him.
this coupled with sam’s superhero fixation...god. the thought of him thinking of her as a hero because of that.
another big change was showing ellie’s reaction to henry’s suicide, instead of joel’s like the game. in the game, i think it was to remind joel about the fragility and impermanence of good things. the show’s not really joel city, they can’t really keep it on him the whole time because that’s boring. not to mention, it’s about more than him. in the show, you can tell it’s to show the impact it’s going to have on ellie’s journey.
i wasn’t a big fan of kathleen initially -- felt she wasn’t intimidating enough as a leader -- but as we saw her more in ep. 5, i was disgusted with her, which is good! i do like the complexity of her, how she’s the leader of this big resistance movement but also seemed unsure and grasping in a lot of moments (of which surprisingly did not include the moments where she ordered people to be killed or argued that ellie and sam should die because “kids die”).
brief note, the child clicker was cool but like...a bit farfetched right?? i mean unless she was bit as a baby and has just been turning since then? aside from that, i do like that she foreshadowed sam’s turning in a way. kid infected is such a gutpunch.
another thing i liked were the parts ripped straight from the gameplay. just watching joel reach the house with the sniper in it caused a lotta moments where i was like “OH YEA THAT HAPPENED.”
WHEN THE INFECTED CAME OUTTA THE GROUND??? i was like “OH YEA THAT WAS PART OF IT.” this show’s great. i love seeing the funny ways they tie back to the game.
all the episodes have been good so far but it really seems like the odd-numbered ones have consistently been bangers.
NEXT ONE THO. JACKSON TIME. TOMMY. MARIA. LET’S GOOO >:)
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altrxisme · 9 months
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@basadoir asked ❛ still alive, are you? ❜ ( reaper @ jackson )
/shakes fists at the sky/ yeeee
He recognized the wraith's voice immediately. He remembered so many of their voices, faces, mannerisms— The brunet's usual demeanor, that charming smile paired with soft, frost blues eyes, was replaced with a neutral one accompanied by the drop of his brows. The visage of a sniper examining their target behind a scope on a Sunday afternoon.
Jackson's dealt with his fair share of Talon agents, but he's more familiar with their workings as that's what he's been keeping tabs on ever since the fall. The young man hasn't had the pleasure of meeting the REAPER himself, but it seemed that his time has come to meet the ghost he's read so much about in his findings.
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"Dunno what ta tell ya, man. M'like a roach." A hand hovered over one of his pulse pistols beneath his coat. A wary gaze at the wisp of a man before him. "Don't reckon you're here a chat, hm?"
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limetimo · 2 years
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Bitchy Regulus Fic Rec
fics with "little bitch regulus where he's still a likeable character” vibes in no particular order
when you were mine by battlehamster - Regulus is literally on house arrest in James' house and he bullies James around he's so mean
Trials and Tribulations by lemon_drps Regulus is under a lot of pressure, gay and high and also a pretty shit person. I love him your honour
The Blood In Your Mouth by moonysmirrorball - not sure if this fits the vibes but it's homoerotic detective James x assassin for hire Regulus adn he’s def a mean one
Best Friend’s Brother by zeppazariel Reggie is a loveable mean BITCH in this one, also Jegulus and Wolfstar (ALSO IT’S ON GOODREADS???)
Open Season by avidita It’s 2023 and Regulus is not having it.
https://leogichidaa.tumblr.com/post/676082425074515968/psychoanalysis-sunday PSYCHOANALYS SUNDAY It’s a defense mechanism your honour
Drugs and surgical scrubs by anauro he's mostly just understandably annoyed in this one but it's really good so I'll just throw it here too.
The Horcrux Hunt by Keysie - Regulus & Remus banterrr
l'éphémère (the ephemeral) by anouri he literally got hit with a bike and had his dreams on being a professional ballet dancer shatter, he’s entitled to having a bad time. James is gonna kiss it better 
just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by zeppazariel he got outed as gay to his parents by veritaserum and his crush wants to fake-date him... I just realised he’s not actually bitchy in this one at all... but he literally banishes other Slytherins to the lake like a mean bamf so I say it still makes the list :D
Prove It by fuckboyregulus I think applies too but like, really soft-core
Teenagers Scare The Living Sh*t Out Of Me by LimeOfMagicLimo  ‘spiteful spitful little gremlin’ somebody called him I think
snipers solve 99% of all problems by silentwalrus is not a Regulus fic but holkahkfhl THE RABID ENERGY of the Fullmetal Alchemist team fucking around and finding out had me in stitches
Feel free to add more if anything comes to mind ♥
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superiorsniper · 2 years
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Happy Sniper Sunday because you’re not soft. I got you baby.
I am also not a baby
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He hated that it had come to this. He hated that he had become this. It wasn't always this way though. No. When he was much younger, it took little more than the lingerie ad from the local Sunday paper...or the chance loose arm hole opening in the blouse of one of his mom's friends. And if he was really lucky, perhaps even the hastily flipped pages of an old Playboy Magazine between him and a circle of his friends in some lucky kid's dad's garage.
Even as he got older, the scent of a woman was enough to elicit that hardwired response that every boy inherited from the universe in his early teens, or the memory of past interactions...whether initially clumsy, or later almost borderline confident.
But that was then, in the pre-internet age...before sensory overload had basically desensitized him to the point that he had to hunt his prey to feel that once easy thrill as it were. So here he stood in silence with high powered binoculars pressed against his trained blue eyes. His tree stand was the window on the second floor of a two story house, and his five point buck was the woman next door...lying alone on her bed down below him.
He always followed the same progression. First it was the white plug in the outlet on the wall. Then he'd follow that cord along the floor and up the side of the bed. He continued to track it now, over her exposed leg...until it ended at the base of the wand that she held between her spread thighs.
So there he stood in complete silence with his shorts pulled down to mid thigh level and a condom rolled snugly down the length of his fully engorged penis. It probably wouldn't have made sense to the unlikely onlooker, but even one drop of his own DNA at that window seemed about as damning to him as spent shell casings left behind at a snipers nest.
He watched her intently from his lofty vantage point. He studied her completely exposed body from head to toe, although his focus never strayed far from the dark brown patch of seemingly soft hair between her legs. He wasn't hurting anyone, in fact, he was paying her a compliment if anything. The mere fact that she was holding a high dollar personal massager directly against her own clitoris told him that she must have felt at least a bit of longing for a man's attention.
It wasn't long before his binoculars were supported by a single hand, as his other one was now below his waist...gently mimicking the subtle rise and fall of her hips against the mattress beneath her. He stroked himself slowly....as he followed the noticeable outward curvature of her stomach upward, past her obviously alert breasts, until he found himself looking at her head thrust back into her pillow. It moved slowly side to side, her eyes alternating between a clenched and fluttering state. Then, for some unknown reason, she opened those very eyes and turned her head toward the window...filling both of those magnifying lenses in his hand with acknowledgement.
He backed away from the window and dropped his binoculars all at once. There was no way that she wasn't going to tell everyone, which meant that he was going to be a convicted criminal at worst, and a neighbor pariah at best. The only solution in his mind was to make her realize that this whole situation was mutually beneficial.
He pulled his shorts back up now, and ran downstairs. He opened the back slider quietly and then sprinted to the fence...which he easily bounded over. He pulled on the handle to her back door, which opened to his surprise, so he let himself inside. Silently, he crept down the hall toward her bedroom, and opened the door. There she stood at the window, with her back to him...looking upward. So before she could even react. he placed his hand over her mouth and dragged her back toward the bed.
He lay her back down now, still stifling her screams with his palm, and flung her robe back open with his free hand. He calmly explained to her that he wasn't a bad guy...that he just had the same needs that she did. He told her that she deserved better than a plug in partner, and that maybe they could be friends in need.
She just looked up at him without saying a word and slowly nodded. Maybe it was because she agreed with him, and maybe it was because she knew that she really had little say in the matter at all, that much wasn't exactly clear. So in an act of good faith, he removed his hand from her mouth, and then removed his clothing.
So there she lay, with this man on top of her. Inside of her. She tried with all of her might to remain expressionless, but the physiological responses of her body betrayed her stone cold gaze. She began to moan begrudgingly now...as his cock pulsed rapidly in and out of her. To her surprise, she found a certain nostalgic enjoyment in the feeling of a condom against her wet insides. She wasn't entirely sure why he showed up with it already on, but it made her feel young again all the same.
Still she said nothing, dare any acknowledgement be confused as consent. But it WAS going to happen. She could feel it building. And there he remained. Over her. Thrusting his latex sheathed sword in and out of her down below.
And then it DID happen. It wasn't anything that you'd see in an adult movie, but more like a woman bracing herself in the door jamb of her house during an 8.0 earthquake. The rumble filled her from head to toe as she lie there, quivering in safe silence, until she finally sunk back into the bed.
He didn't last much longer. It was maybe a minute before he filled whatever spacial void was left in that condom. Then he hastily got dressed and left, before it could even slip off of his slowly wilting cock.
So there she lay, carefully covering herself with her robe again before tying it snugly. Her husband would be home soon, and she had a decision to make. She HAD to tell him. But would he understand?
Maybe ten minutes later, she heard the front door open, so she got up and ran down the hall. It was her husband, freshly home from the gym, still sweating through his shirt even. She said nothing as she jumped into his arms and began to sob uncontrollably.
"What's the matter baby?" he asked her.
She continued to cry, but through her tears, she muttered "The man....next door" "What about him honey" her husband replied. "He...he came over earlier" she stammered. "And" her husband asked. "And told me" she continued "that he FINALLY accepted an offer, so...so the house won't be vacant for much longer."
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Sniper & Other Love Songs - Harry Chapin
Sunday Morning Sunshine - right off the bat, i love his voice. i cant tell what it is but it reminds me of this christmas album my mom puts on sometimes (which may be the time period and location? id have to check). i like how this song tells you a story.
Sniper - did you know i fucking love ballads. its long, its dramatic, and it just kept building. a few times i went "WHAT" out loud because i really didn't expect an album with "& other love songs" in the title to give me This. i honestly really love this song. after 8:10 is REALLY GOOD. from where he screams "i hate you" onward. 10/10 song jesus fucking christ. added to my library
And The Baby Never Cries - really soft and nice to listen to. love the cello in here. im still a bit stunned from the last song so this was a good refresher
Burning Herself - i love songs with fire symbolism oh my goddd i love them. this honestly gave me brain animatic. i liked the different uses of guitar in here. adding this to my library so i can find it later for possible animatic use
Barefoot Boy - another little song telling a story. its about a barefoot boy. he doesnt like conk crete.
A Better Place To Be - THERES the love song. it was fun to listen to and it was, again, a story. really enjoyable. this one had a PLOT TWIST. i like to believe that this guy met a ghost.
Circle - MORE ANIMATIC FODDER LETS GOOO. this song is really nice. about how life goes on and whatnot
Woman Child - the cellooooo <3. squints at the lyrics IS THIS ABOUT AN ABORTION? oh my god it totally is. wild ass song
Winter Song - bro is right winter is kinda like that
IN CONCLUSION - singer/songwriter is a genre i love whenever i hear it, but i never really go looking for it. this album is REALLY GOOD. it honestly blew me away, and wasnt what i expected at all. most of the songs arent something id listen to on my own, but really enjoyable regardless. i even downloaded a few songs. 7/10
review for person: every single song on this album was a story, and a great one at that. loved the lyricism, loved the instrumentation. really positively surprised me. sniper was easily my favorite song. 7/10
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a-lil-perspective · 2 years
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Crosshair: *generalized as smooth and flirty bastard*
Also Crosshair: Do you have two tongues in your mouth?
You: What? No..
Crosshair:
You:
Crosshair: Do you want to?
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moonstrider9904 · 2 years
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It's Sniper Sunday but not exactly soft, I'm in the mood for some smut of this man yes I am
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perpetuallyaiming · 2 years
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Soft Sniper Sunday! Crosshair is my absolute favorite Batch member and I am here to let the entire world know. But first, here’s some soft headcanons:
As they grew up, Cross was the closest with Wrecker, because Wrecker doesn’t judge him for any decisions he makes
Cross gets in a fight with Hunter? Wrecker is there to console him and coax them into making up. The big guy isn’t very eloquent but having him there makes Crosshair feel much better
Remember that scene where Wrecker pulls Cross in, in their barracks? Ohhh Crosshair will always visibly scowl, but both of them knows he is happy that his brother loves him so much
Cross finds himself trusting Wrecker the most, especially on-field. If anyone’s got his back, it’s Wrecker. Hence him calling for the latter’s knife in that Tarkin test.
Crosshair is super detailed, visible from his meticulous maintenance of his gear, and so he actually pays attention to the little things that might support his brothers, like an earplug stash for Hunter in their barracks and Marauder, charging Tech’s holopads when he falls asleep and forgets so that he’ll wake up to a full and useable device
And change my mind, he has commissioned copies of Wrecker’s Lula and replaced them overtime as they got misplaced or broken
He tucks Wrecker in !!
He hates showing it and would rather get shot than to be discovered, but he gets super soft for his brothers when they are vulnerable
One time, Hunter got super sick during the winters, high fever, runny and stuffed nose, chills, sore throat, the whole package, and boy he got delusional
Crosshair brews herbal tea and whips up porridge and spoon feeds him, staying near Hunter the entire time during his sickest hours
He will angry cat hiss at Tech if he ever dares mentions it to the sick man
His brothers all know he does this when they’re sick though, which is why they love him even more
When it’s his turn to get sick, Wrecker let’s Cross cuddle with Lula and they all take care of him. Tech preps the meds, Hunter makes chicken soup, and Wrecker stations himself right next to Cross on the ground just in case he ever needs anything
My heart—maybe now I need to write self indulgent sick!Bad Batch fics
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itsjml · 3 years
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I love him.
I miss him.
I cry. 🥲❤️
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yeojaa · 4 years
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ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)
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He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.
alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.
pairing.  jeon jungkook
genre + rating.  fluffy crack. general, for now.
warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 
reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.
word count.  ~3400
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part i.
JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019.  2:13 AM.
It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him.  He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team.  Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.
One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it.  Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?
"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"  
Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side.  He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.
When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company.  His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.
"Thanks, you too."
Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen.  You have a nice voice, he thinks.  "Are you sticking with Widow?"
Jungkook takes in the team comp:  Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio.  A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable.  They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps.  Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.  
"Should I?"
"If you want."  A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait.  "I can damage boost."
He thinks he can hear the teasing.  It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.  
"Who says I need it?"  Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help.  It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom.  He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.
"O—kay, Widow main.  We'll see if you get anything from me."
It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him.  It's distracting in the strangest way.  The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.  
"Are you going to join us?"  You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper.  "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."  
Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W.  Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it.  Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.  
As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.
BOOM.
The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.
"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."  
He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort.  It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs.  He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud.  "I told you."
"Yeah, yeah."  The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement.  Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point.  "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team.  Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."
You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun.  Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after. 
"Show-off!"   
Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot.  He needs heals like yesterday.
Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point.  Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb.  "Try to stay alive, yeah?"
"My bad,"  he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths. 
There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left.  The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time;  the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.  
"Thanks for the damage boost."
"Any time."
Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay.  He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah.  He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.
"Looks like you're really making them mad."  You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background. 
"I don't know why.  I'm just having fun."  He's lying.  You're laughing.  
"Too much fun, I think."  
"Maybe they should be better."  Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant.  It makes your giggles come harder.  He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing.  He can't help but pat himself on the back.
"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."
Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought.  "Of course not.  I'm not that rude!"
"Well, you never know."  You're right.  People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated). 
"I promise I'm not an asshole."  He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear.  After all, he'd probably never play with you again.  Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions. 
Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is.  "I'm just teasing.  You seem nice."
"I am nice."  Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah.  You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee. 
"Not according to them."  And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight.  He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you. 
"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack."  Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense. 
"Who says I'm going Widow again?"  
You're scandalized.  "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"
For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them.  He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned.  He decides he doesn't really mind, though.  It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight. 
"Woah - says the Mercy player?"
"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"
"Sure, e-girl."  
"Take that back!"  How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't.  You can take it just as well as you can dish it.  
"Okay, okay.  You're a not bad healer."  Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks.  Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.
He can practically hear you rolling your eyes.  "Oh, thanks."  
"Any time, BigMelon."  
"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal."  Had he heard you wrong?
"What'd you say?"  
There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else.  You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound.  "Because watermelon?  Su-bak?  So big melon is dae-bak?"  Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.
It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm.  Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player? 
"You're kidding me."  He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think.  "What're you - a dad?"
You scoff now, parroting his words back to him.  "What're you - the pun police?"  
Another one?
He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness.  Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place.  His silence will surely speak volumes.  
"You know that was funny!"  By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.  
"Not the word I'd use."
"You just have bad taste, McCree."  You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal. 
"Do not!"  He returns, just as quickly.  
"Prove it.  Laugh at my joke!"  You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.  
You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his.  It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls.  He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p. 
"Hey - stop that!"  It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him.  He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line. 
The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.  
"Stop distracting me!"  He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably.  He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling. 
As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three.  When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen.  Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.
"We did it, McCree."  You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested.  The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums;  Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view.  One of your tanks is already emoting.
VICTORY flashes across his screen.  
"We sure did, BigMelon."
The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised.  You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime.  He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.  
"Thanks for the carry."  He doesn't mean it facetiously.  This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.
"You're welcome,"  you chirp.  He thinks you'll leave right after.
Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner. 
"Do you want to duo?"  You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter.  It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.
Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.
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JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019.  11 PM.
It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.  
“Most people call me Jinny.”  He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy.  “What’s your name?”
Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be.  Of course you’d want to know.  Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.
He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat.  He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.
"Uh."  The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.  
"You don't have to tell me,"  you supply as softly as he's ever heard you.  It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason.  "I get that we haven't known each other that long."  
As if that's actually the issue.  He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter.  He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500.  He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.
It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.
But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can.  "My friends call me Jay."
"Jay, huh?"  You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it.  He hopes you don’t hate it.  "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."
"Woah, we?"  He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game.  You never make good on the threat anyway;  you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits.  "I don't think I agreed to that."  
It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy.  "Fine.  You can find yourself a new healer.  We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"  
Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.  
"No!  Don't leave me with them!"  The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.
Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations.  It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight.  It’s, oddly enough, with you.  
Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home.  It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.
Different, but nice.
"Fine.  You're forgiven."  You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly.  "How was your day?"
And this is why it is - because it's ordinary.  It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea.  He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders.  He's just a normal guy playing games.  
It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.  
He eats it up like he's been starved of it.
"Busy.  Really busy.  I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now."  There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully.  He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.
It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing.  He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.
"You should make something to eat!"
He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair.  "But we're in queue."
"Jay!"  It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.
"I'll make something after we win."  He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night.  You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.
As if right on cue:  "Shut up!"  
Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning;  lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.  
It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.
He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever.  Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark.  The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples.  You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.  
There's just something about you. 
And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else).  Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him.  Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?  
Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star.  Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.  
But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.
Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met. 
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notes.  i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk.  what more can i say?  :)
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