#straight up the opposite effect of what they want me to feel lmao but like yeah

[nixiecat]

the "shave your pits" guy is back in my notes and this time is being transphobic to my followers so it's pit posting time again!!!

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒔 + 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏

the piles go from top left to right. so, the coffee with heart shaped ice is pile i, the brown clouds are pile ii, and so on and so forth.

take the time to close your eyes, breathe, and meditate on the PAC prompt, then open your eyes and let your guides lead you to the pile for you. i hope you enjoy!

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Shufflemancy:

“Better In Color” by Lizzo

“Do It Like A Dude” by Jessie J

"Dolphin" by Oh My Girl

"Break Free" by Ariana Grande

Signs:

1:23, mixed race, water placement/dominance

Reading:

you may come from a more matriarchal family line, as it's mainly the women that speak clearly in this reading. the women in your family are typically powerful, well-spoken, straight-forward, fiery, and confident. the men may be the type to lay back and let the women lead because they know best if that makes sense.

the maternal line of your ancestors seem to be so proud of you. they think you're doing a good job of balancing everything you are dealing with. although you're doing well, they don't want you to slack off just because they let you know that you're doing well. if you keep working hard, your blessings will continue to reign in.

your paternal line seem to be somewhat like the traditonal father figure. they're more quiet and in the background. they may want to connect with you more, but you don't reach out or they don't know how to best approach you. they love how you seem to mimic the women in your family with your confidence and knowledge.

you might be coming out of a negative or stressful situation. maybe you were unorganized before or just recently went through a bad breakup. honestly, some things may still be hidden from you. do your shadow work, babe. that will also be helpful in your journey to getting what's for you.

you have a lot of good coming in soon! this could be partnerships and travel opportunities; you might even move to a different country. you may rekindle old flames soon. your commitment to doing well and succeeding will be a great assest as long as you keep it in check. don't become too greedy or prideful - this will bring about the opposite effects (more bad breakups, unwelcome change, etc).

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

“Left and Right” by Seventeen

“Rent” from Rent

"Better Off" by Ariana Grande

Signs:

rebellion, fire placements/dominance, ancestry.com, 23&me, teachers/teaching, civil rights, earth placements/dominance

Reading:

your ancestors are funny lmao. they also had a ton to say. you could connect with them easily because of their willingness to speak so freely. if you chose this pile, you might wanna do something like a family tree or figuring out your family line/ancestry. your ancestors might have been something like freedom fighters? they were the type to fight for justice and call out inequality when they saw it.

they're telling you to meditate and let go - which seems interesting because i initially felt them as very fiery people. it's like they're fiery but for specific reasons. they don't seem to be the revenge type in my opnion. you might feel as if you're in a stagnant point in your life. you might want more from what you're currently participating in. you want to go so fast and do so much, but your ancestors are telling you to be patient and wait. you're not ready - not yet.

this is gonna feel like a lecture, but you can't go out and do whatever it is you want to do simply because you feel like it. this is gonna sound weird, but you're not as important as you think you are. you need to learn how to serve others because right now, you're being very selfish. you're needed on this earth to help others; your goal in this life is to put others before yourself. you're not gonna receive anything until this selfish air of yours leaves.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

“Redbone” by Childish Gambino

“My Boo” by Usher and Alicia Keys

"Pick Up Your Feelings" by Jazmine Sullivan

"The Worst" by Jhene Aiko

"Focus" by H.E.R

"Do It" by Chloe x Halle

Signs:

latinx, taino, cuban, cuba, puerto rico, boricua, 3, 7, crown chakra, third eye

Reading:

the men in your family line might have been (and might still be) treated like children, or they or they usually die when they're still pretty young. both sides of your family are a force to reckon with. magic and spirituality may run deep. i think those that pick this pile may be latnix, so maybe practices like santería, voodoo, or hoodoo may already be prominent in your family.

you've been setting plans and intentions lately - expect to see a reward. interestingly, both the emperor and emperess came out during this reading! you are obviously on the right path in terms of bringing in a ton of abundance and also being stable for both yourself and your family (i have a feeling family is very important to people in this pile). although you feel like you're doing everything right you may actually feel as if this isn't what you're cut out for. you may be overwhelmed. i'm reminded of Luisa from Encanto. eventually these feelings will go away, but if you don't properly address them they will pop back up time and time again. your third eye and crown chakra may be blocked, and healing them may help you with what you're feeling right now.

this feeling of seemingly doing good but actually feeling as if everything is not right for you could also explain your love life instead of work/material/family life. maybe everything seems like it's going on the right path. you might've been together for a healthy amount of time, and the next step seems to be marriage or something more, but it's not really what you want, or a facade is being put on in order for the relationship to seem that way.

the best advice i can give for this pile is to follow your heart. take time for yourself in isolation and listen. listne to your heartbeat, your pulse, your thoughts, and/or nothing. just listen. then follow.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Shufflemancy:

“Song For You” by Avery Wilson

“Sorry, I Love You” by Stray Kids

"Dancing Like Butterfly Wings" by Ateez

"Lose Control" by Missy Elliott

"Celebrate" by Ateez

Signs:

youngest/only child, physical touch as a love language, newbie, noob, talkative, air/water placements or dominance

Reading:

your ancestors are cute. they seemed to be new to this whole magic/tarot thing. they had a lot they wanted say, but the cards seemed to stutter or come out all at once. they really wanted me to get to the point with this reading. they didn't even introduce themselves before saying new opportunities are coming in for you!

ace of sticks and death both came upright, and both of those cards indicate changes, transformations, and new opportunities coming in. i also think it's ironic that i'm writing about new things coming in a few hours before the new year. everything seems to be right in front of you. your spirit asteroid may be in a fire sign.. maybe leo? or maybe that's too bright. aquarius? libra? virgo? any of those imo.

interestingly, the hierophant came out twice from two different decks. your ancestors want you to lean on them. maybe the reason they seemed to be new to me is because they have a specific way of speaking through the cards that i'm not used to - it may be easier for you to understand them naturally (which makes sense because they're your ancestors - not mine lol). you may be the newbie in terms of magic/tarot and things of the like. i also sense that you could be the youngest person in your family or an only child. you could've been doted on a lot. as a result, you could be a little immature.

you might feel lonely or disconnected from family right now. your ancestors are wanting you to reach out to them personally because they can heal you from whatever is burdening you in relation to your family. the maternal side of your ancestors seem to want to comfort you specifically; your paternal side on the other hand wants to offer guidance. your anxiety will go away with their help, and material goodness will also usher in. go talk to them. also, if you felt drawn to pile ii, go read it. parts of it are for you.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕

Shufflemancy:

"Be Blessed" by Yolanda Adams

"Just Be A Man About It" by Toni Braxton

"All Me" by Kehlani and Keyshia Cole

"Let It Burn" by Jazmine Sullivan

Signs:

reversals, rx, dad/daddy, father, manipulation, liar, jealousy, miss robinson, The Devil, earth/water placements or dominance

Reading:

this pile was both interesting and confusing because sooo many reversals came out. i'm talking 5+ more reversals at a time. maybe you're currently going through a confusing time in general and that's how the cards decided to manifest to show that.

your ancestors want to warn you of negative energy surrounding you. someone is manupilating you or lying to you. something is hidden from you. this could also be why the cards are reversed so much. they're yelling. someone is pretending to care for you and be your friend, but they are very much so not. at all. be careful of your surroundings and the company you keep.

you may want to lean on your paternal line during this time. they may provide wisdom on leadership and discerning between people's true intentions towards you. "father knows best" comes to mind with this pile.

the person manipulating you is a pathologicl liar, a con artist, and a person who is jealous of you. they want to take everything from you and bring you down to their level. if you know who this is, get rid of them immediately. if not, please try to be discerning or go into hermit mode to try and protect yourself. honestly, they may be using things like magic or hexes because of how obssessed and jealous of you they are. with the eight of knives, you will eventually get out of this situation, but it's kind of like quicksand. it'll feel like you're constantly sinking in, but you have to keep fighting.

in this reading, the story of Miss Robinson comes up. Miss Robinson was a rootworker who found out that another woman was speaking bad on her and putting people against her. Miss Robinson confronted the woman and told her that if she knew what was best for her, the woman would stop trying to steal her joy and spread negativity on her. the woman continued to do so anyways. a little less than a month later, the woman's only son died. Miss Robinson sat fanning herself with the obiturary, and the next day, the woman left.

this story of Miss Robinson will play out if this person keeps messing with you. i get the feeling that your ancestors have protected you beyond anyone else's control. they're not going to let this person ruin your joy. you will come out on top in the end. your success is the revenge.

additionally, there will be a partnership coming in! your manifestations may come true soon (january/february). this person will be caring, generous, and youthful. they might be younger than you. for some people who choose this pile, this person will be harmless. for others, this could be manipulator talked about for the majority of this pile. again, please be discerning.

i'm sorry i said almost nothing about you ancestral line, but they felt it was more important that i give you this message. i share what the cards and spirit give me, ya know? also, as i tried to save this, it almost didn't save/almost got deleted.. someone does not want you knowing this information. as said before, your ancestors aren't fooling with that energy.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"stranger in my house" by tamia valmont;

"deja vu" by ateez

"side effects" by stray kids

"the tortise and the hare" by stray kids

"victory song" by stray kids

Signs:

indie arie, ocean, water/air placements or dominance, church, grandma's hands by bill withers

Reading:

you maternal ancestors might've been the church mothers. if you know what that is, this pile is for you lmao. they helped everyone and were always giving people a shoulder to cry on.

you might be feeling depressed right now. maybe you're frustrated or misunderstood. you may be thinking of all you've missed out on, or you've been working so much that you're missing out on all the fun life has to offer. you might feel so worried about the future and have no idea what you'll be doing. relax and go with the flow for now.

although you feel underappreciated now, you will move up in life because of your work. expect internships, a degree, or even an upgrade in position. you will find your way after this period of negative thinking. don't worry about poverty or anything like that. you hardwork will be rewarded. you will come into the spotlight because of your efforts.

[eiightysixbaby]

oooo okay so i have a request! i recently got high for the first time lolz and can u write like first time high w eddie but the reader was super anxious and paranoid and like just cute fluff

NEED TO RECOVER FROM THAT BC IDK HOW HE DOES IT

i am writing this as someone who has never been high so i hope it sounds realistic LMAO. i wrote this as best friend!eddie that leads into some fluffy, flirty territory???

cw: just fluff and weed smoking lol

“you don’t have to do this, you know. I’m happy to go smoke outside real quick, leave you completely out of the way of it,” eddie says, interrupting the nervous chewing of your lip you’d been doing as you stare down the joint in his hand.

your eyes meet his briefly before flicking away again, bringing a fingernail up to bite at.

“no, no I want to,” you reply, sounding more like you’re convincing yourself than him. “I’m just nervous.” you lie back on the couch with a groan. “why am I so fucking nervous?”

“it’s your first time. you don’t know what it’s gonna feel like yet. it’s normal,” he says calmly. “I promise you though, it’s gonna chill you out. I wouldn’t suggest you do this if I felt like it would be awful for you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you mumble into your hands that are now covering your face. “okay, I’m ready,” you decide, moving back to a sitting position.

you watch as he pulls a lighter from his back pocket, flicking it a few times before the flame appears. he holds it steady at the end of the joint, letting it ignite before he takes the first hit. it’s so natural for him, effortless, and you’re a little jealous of him in the moment. he holds it out to you, letting it rest between two fingers, his expression calm and patient as he waits for you to take it.

you reach for it, looking at it questioningly. “okay, so… how does this work?” you ask.

“well, you’re gonna inhale, and kind of hold the smoke in your mouth for a few seconds? you’ll just… feel it. and then exhale,” eddie explains, crossing one leg over the other as he leans back into the cushions behind him. “and don’t take too big of a hit. it’ll just make you cough worse.”

you nod, taking in what he’s saying. you’ve seen him smoke enough times that it isn’t foreign, but you still don’t want to make a fool of yourself.

raising the joint slowly, you let your lips wrap around it. your hand trembles slightly, wanting to look cool and natural under his stare. you feel like you barely inhale at all before you’re spluttering, coughing as tears well in your eyes.

“you’re okay,” eddie says, patting your back with a firm hand. “promise it gets better, you’re just not used to it.”

you take a few steadying breaths, the coughs subsiding. his hand remains on your back, rubbing soothingly. determined now, you take another hit, having more success this time.

you can feel warmth tingling your insides, burning your lungs in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant but isn’t yet completely pleasant either.

it’s not long before you’re slumped into the sofa, eyelids heavy as the high fully settles in. the only problem is, it seems to be having the opposite effect of what eddie had said. you fidget with your fingers in your lap, picking nervously at your nails. you haven’t spoken a word, thoughts racing in your head. the wind picks up outside, leaves rustling as rain begins hitting the roof of the trailer. you jump, breathing slightly erratic as you sit up straight.

“hey, you okay?”

eddie’s deep brown eyes look at you with concern, not used to you being skittish.

“I feel like… I don’t know. I’m super fucking in my head right now, I thought this was supposed to calm me down—”

“hey, hey,” he interjects softly, a hand reaching out to rest on your bicep. “you’re okay, alright? I’m here, it’s just me here,” he reassures, trying to get you to meet his eyes. “there’s absolutely nothing to be worried about, you’re safe with me.”

you glance over at him, brow furrowed. your knee bounces, a nervous habit.

“c’mere,” he says, motioning for you to lean into him. you oblige, curling against his side like a scared puppy. his arm wraps around you, fingers rubbing soft patterns into your skin. “what can I do to make this more comfortable for you?” he asks, feeling terrible for getting you high in the first place; whether you’d wanted to or not.

“can we just stay like this?” you murmur, letting your fingers toy with the fabric of his shirt. “you’re so comfy,” you sigh, feeling your heart rate stabilize as you begin to relax.

“yeah, sweetheart,” he hums. “whatever you want.”

he continues to take periodic hits from the joint, and you watch in silent awe as the smoke leaves his lips in quiet exhales, trailing up to the ceiling. you can hear his heart beating in his chest, the rhythmic thumping calming your anxieties. your eyes search his face; taking in his long lashes, the slope of his nose and the rounded tip of it, his pretty pink lips and the tongue that darts out to wet them every so often.

he’s so pretty. in your hazy headspace you’re unaware of how hard you’re staring at him. it helps to ground you; watching him, feeling the warmth of him.

“can I help you with something?” he teases gently, looking down at you. your big, glassy eyes look up at him in wonderment, blinking back into reality when he breaks you from your trance.

“you’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself, but once the words are out you find that you aren’t sure if you even care.

“am I?” he asks, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face.

you nod, chewing at your lip.

“so are you.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better now, sweets?”

“mhm,” you agree. “that doesn’t mean you can stop cuddling me though. y’have to stay here,” you insist, pouting at him as if he was trying to plot his escape.

he chuckles at your lack of a filter, smiles warmly at the way you snuggle back into his chest.

“okay, sweetheart. don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

[euphoricfilter]

For the drabble game could you write fluff with youtuber bf jk ? I am not creative so I couldn’t think of a sentence sorry😭 but maybe he does one of those 24hr streams, I love your writing!

youtuber boyfriend! kook headcanons:

tags/ warnings: none. just a lot of fluff and feelings <3

notes: when i got sent this idea ages ago i got so excited. and i wrote three fics for it but hated them all and then made sure they were to never see the light of day. so my solution is to write some cute boyfriend headcanons instead to make up for it!! simply because i absolutely love this idea and i need to write anything for it to sate the need within me.

notes 2: this got slightly longer than i’d intended LMAO sorry 🕺

𓇻 i feel like jungkook’s channel has a plethora of videos, though he specializes in gaming.

𓇻 its probably one of his biggest passions. though i do see him dabbling in commentary, or even review type videos. maybe he’s a bit of a collector as well and goes on hour long rants about rare items or hauls of what he purchased over the years.

𓇻 i see the both of you probably meeting at one of those second-hand game and film stores.

𓇻 maybe you’re just milling around. more content to browse the movies than the games because you only own an old console (something cute like a nintendo DS) but they don’t really sell the game cards commercially anymore

𓇻 and jungkook loses track of why he was even there in the first place when he spots you. slowly scooting towards the corner you’re in.

𓇻 jungkook might not exactly believe in love at first sight, finds it a little hard to imagine loving someone so soon. but he definitely believes in destiny, even fate. and some small part of his mind had convinced him that surely this was just that.

𓇻 he’d be a bit shy about trying to approach you, mouth opening only for nothing to come out because what was he supposed to say? and maybe he accidentally startles you, offering to pay for the few dvds you had hugged to your chest as a lame sort of compensation

𓇻 he’d be the one to ask for your number, he’d be the first to text. you’d tell him later on it’s because you didn’t want to come off too head-strong. worried you’d scare him off messaging only hours after meeting. and then he’d tell you he had worried about the same thing

𓇻 jungkook wouldn’t straight out tell his audience he’d gotten into a relationship. it’s not that he was embarrassed about you, quite the opposite; he’d love to flaunt you to the world. it’s just he’d worry about the reaction from fans.

𓇻 he’d have a pretty hefty audience, a well established one even. and he wasn’t blind to the mean comments that would occasionally show up beneath videos or social media posts. he, himself, never found much issue in dealing with them, on occasion he’d get a little down but he knew that really he put himself up for this. he chose to show his face online, and with that would come some backlash. however, that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about you or how shitty comments would effect your well being.

𓇻 definitely the “in a relationship but it’s private” sort of photos would slowly creep their way onto his IG posts. maybe of little date nights— candles on the table with a dinner you’d cooked together (2 glasses, 2 plates and 2 sets of cutlery), or your favorite cake he’d tried to bake himself with the lego flowers he’d spent the previous evening trying to make (because at least you could look at the lego ones forever and they wouldn’t die). or maybe even your hand snuck in a photo or simply your silhouette beneath a sunset.

𓇻 maybe a few of your own collectible items had made their way onto the shelf in his studio. an obvious beanbag in the corner (you’d often sit there and read as he went through emails or scripted videos). valentines cards that he’d never thought to take down, or posters of yours that never exactly fit in the bedroom

𓇻 it would become apparent that he was in a long-term relationship when he’d film a moving video. so much of your stuff mingled with his own, split seconds of the shared rooms he’d add to the video before showing his audience his new office space. the extra shoes and cute little additions to his home; soft cushions on the couch, ceramics you’d begged him to buy. your hoard of plushies that took up half the bed or the stupid amount of skin care products stacked up in the bathroom. all a sure way of telling his fans that he was serious about you, even if they had no idea of your name or face

𓇻 maybe with enough comments he’d make a little announcement at the end of a video.

𓇻 “i know you’ve all probably guessed by now, but i am in fact, in a relationship”

𓇻 and then proceeded to talk about you for 7 minutes because really he wanted everyone to know how much he loved you. and truthfully he never knew when to shut up when it came to you, not when you were what’s on his mind most of the time. he’d tell them how you’d met, and how he had been absolutely enamored by you almost instantly. he’d show everyone the matching bracelets you’d made. grinning as he showed off the receipt he’d kept in his wallet from your first date together at a small cafe in town, mentioning how he kept a baby photo of you in the back of his phone too.

𓇻 the first time you’d show up in a video, he’d plan for the both of you to do some crafts together one afternoon. a hobby you’d been trying over the last couple of weeks, and jungkook liked to indulge you. loved to watch you sprawled across the floor of an evening with glue coating your fingers and way too much glitter imbedded in the carpet.

𓇻 he’d have been worried at first. asking you over and over if it was truly okay for you to be on camera, and after your reassured him with a kiss, he’d settle down slightly. though his anxiety had still clung to him, eyes flitting your way throughout the afternoon

𓇻 he could tell how shy you’d been, and had reassured you that really you didn’t even need to address the audience. he’d do all the silly little things you giggled at him for. and all you had to do was sit there and be pretty for him. you’d been a lot quieter than usual; itching to give him a kiss each time he was just so awfully jungkook. eyes like those of galaxies when he got something right, or the happiest smile on his face when you asked him for help

𓇻 the day he did a 24 hour charity stream would be when his audience sees you the most. milling around the house, making sure your boyfriend was fed and watered. maybe even sitting down and reading the chat when he wanted to shower. or answering questions while perched on his lap. he’d want to smother you with even more love when you’d catch his eye— a silent question if you were doing okay, that you answered all the questions correct. and he’d squeeze your thigh in reassurance, head resting over your shoulder as he listened to your voice, humming to let you know he was still listening

𓇻 you’d startle him at 4am, a little pouty that you’d had to fall asleep alone. dragging a chair from the kitchen to sit on as you watch him play a game you’d never seen before.

𓇻 “go back to bed, baby” he’d coo, “you’ll fall asleep sitting up and get a bad back”

𓇻 and maybe after that he’s a lot more open to showing you on camera. filming you on beaches, eating cakes and ice creams from a million different restaurants or dancing around hotel rooms or sitting on the balcony with the sun warming your skin when he takes you on holiday. short films dedicated to you with your favorite songs playing in the background

𓇻 maybe he even makes a playlist on his youtube channel, titled “my love” for every video that he includes you in

𓇻 idk just very much in love boyfriend kook who wants the world to love you almost as much as he does (because in all honesty, no one would ever love you more than he does)

[bropunzeling]

Since you say you love to chatter, I hope you don't mind being asked a few questions :)

what's a scene/detail/piece of dialogue etc that you really wanted to include in [fic of your choice], but you couldn't find room for? here's your chance!

if you had to write an epilogue (or sequel!) to any of your fics (that you are NOT currently planning on writing an epilogue for), which would it be and what would happen?

for the ships you're currently writing about (and have written for in general), is there usually one character you like more than the other? (will you tell us who? has it ever changed?)

what's a ship/fic idea you want to read about but don't want to write yourself? maybe somebody will be inspired!

share anything you'd like about a wip!

aw thank you anon! especially for the opportunity to procrastinate on working on my current wip :) answers under the cut:

some dialogue that i ultimately cut from the spain scene in marriage bets where they were having tapas (originally there was going to be ALL this flirting over the tapas and then it went on too long so i got straight to the questions):

"You're not going to eat that?" "Hey, I tried it." "You're so American." "It's the texture--" "Such a wimp." "I'm sure plenty of people aren't into eating octopus." "Uh-huh."

if i had to write an epilogue or sequel:

oh gosh. i think a lot about the one where marriage bets matthew and leon get married for real for real, with suits and their families present and everything. it WOULD involve matthew finally telling brady that he was not, in fact, the first tkachuk to get married. the other one i think about is, of course, rat baby in a cup. she reigns eternal.

is there a character in a ship that i like more than the other?

i think it's hard for me to enjoy a ship where i don't actually like one side of it! that said, there are definitely characters where i find it much easier to get into their headspace than others. i've probably said this before, but leon is such a straight line thinker and so easy for me to get that for a long time it was hard for me to try and write anything from matthew pov because his is a little more twisty-turny. they're both equally complex! but it requires different skills to get the effect i want, which is normally the pov character not having a clue what the other one is thinking. it's a lot easier to have leon misreading matthew than the other way around. except now of course i've written a lot from matthew pov so finding my way back to leon pov has been a challenge.

a ship/fic i want to read but don't want to write:

god what DON'T i want to read. lmao. i would love for someone to write a good achy jamie/trevor post-trade fic. i would love for someone to write a long slow friends-to-lovers matthew/sasha fic! i would REALLY love a brady/quinn future fic. especially if it features divorced brady. i feel like future fic especially is a trope/concept that i just feel less comfortable writing so whenever someone else writes it i eat it up with a spoon :)

share anything you like about a wip:

well the wip is going SO SLOW and is VERY HARD for me because im challenging myself by writing a slow burn and cant rely on sex scenes to do the chemistry work for me this time rip rip. but here is a wee snippet:

“Draisaitl. Tkachuk,” Coach says, gesturing at the starting line.

Leon gets ready, bracing his stick over his thighs. He’s already raced Jordan and Gourde—beat Jordan, beat Gourde—but he hasn’t had to go against Tkachuk yet. Hasn’t had to do much of anything with Tkachuk yet. Yesterday they were at the other end of the line from each other, or opposite sides of the rink. It had lulled Leon into a false sense of security.

Now, though, Tkachuk is watching him with that way that he has, like—

One time, while making kebabs, Leon got a splinter from the bamboo skewer under his nail. It hurt like a bitch, had him cursing for five minutes until Jenna told him to stop squirming and tweezed it out. The splinter had been miniscule, almost impossible to see, and Leon had wondered how something so tiny could be so aggravating and painful, would make him do anything just to get it to stop.

That’s how it feels when Tkachuk looks at him. How it’s always felt. Like his gaze is digging in under Leon’s skin, until Leon’s entire body is red and inflamed. It makes Leon want to scratch at his shoulders, his chest, until he can finally tear Tkachuk out.

[eeblouissant]

Unorganized (angsty? Also unedited) Dorothy thoughts I wrote down on the train this morning :)

- Dorothy seemed much more passive before the divorce, & regardless I headcanon her being that way (until Stan effectively destroyed it). She was unhappy & then became very depressed through being married to him, I think she coped by disassociating whether she was aware of it or not. I don’t think Dorothy remembers a lot of her time with Stan (not her kids, Never her children. she’s separated Stan from them for a long time now) simply because she wasn’t there mentally - she chose not to be. We see (or, at least I do) a drastic shift in the way she behaves around Stanley even when she’s in a room with Blanche, Rose & Sophia. Some of the only people she feels like she doesn’t need to “disappear on” in order to tolerate. Her pessimism was a result of Stanley (specifically before & during the divorce, it was a painfully slow process.) & she uses it as a defence mechanism, or a safety blanket. I like to think that she wasn’t that way growing up, even the opposite.

- Dorothy is Very good at tuning out. If she doesn’t want to pay attention to you, she won’t. And you’ll never know the difference. (I saw a mutual mention her also just straight up taking out her hearing aid, so, she also definitely does that lmao– poor Rose gets the most of it)

- Anyone who’s spoken to Dorothy since the divorce, & knew her before it happened, especially before Stan – will tell you that she is Not how they remember her to be. And I think this is why so many of the people around her (besides the Obvious Reasons to hate him) have immediately taken to disliking Stan, the damage is so visible & absolutely undeniable that it would be impossible not to have something against him, no matter what role they might play in Dorothy’s life. Sophia would obviously harbour the most resentment, next to Dorothy. I don’t think Dorothy has been able to grasp just how badly Stan hurt her yet & I believe that is partly another choice she’s made. That &, she doesn’t remember much about who she was before anymore, anyway. It would just depress her to try & uncover.

- Side note on that last point, Blanche & Rose have definitely not believed Dorothy whenever she might have shown them old photos of her. Jaw drop moment for sure. & of course cursed Stan to all hell – I think Blanche would have gotten a little emotional. As much as she’d want to poke fun for a laugh I don’t think she’d have been able to bring herself to. She recognizes how tragic what happened to Dorothy is & was immediately. Not to say that Rose wouldn’t.

- I love love picking apart the ways Dorothy’s changed, the drastic change in how she chooses to dress (ignoring trends, & all that, just for a second) has always been interesting to me. We see a younger version of Dorothy in clothing that hugs her figure & creates an explicitly, traditionally, feminine silhouette. While after Stan dumps her, she’s begun leaning towards a style that could at times be considered more masculine. Especially in the new silhouette she’s created. This could for sure just be me reaching. I like to compare her to Rose, though, who still dresses in styles Very reminiscent of the 50s’. I’ve talked about Rose dressing the way she does because of Charlie before but I’ll address it here again, because Blanche is also very similar here. They never really changed because they never felt a need to, it’s obvious that Dorothy felt the need to do something. (brought on through insecurities, Stan, her own mental health, the list goes on. She needed to match the outside to the inside because she didn’t feel like that same passive person she was once. Imposter syndrome … question mark? Just a touch, perhaps.)

[moonastrogirl]

The Truth about aries placements

I decided to make this a serie. Enjoy ! ;)

Aries placements or 1st House placements/ Stellium in Aries or in 1st house

First of all, Aries is a cardinal sign and it’s usually the first one everyone thinks about when it comes to that category. They have the quality of the first flame, the first fire ever created. Nothing can quite tame the flame. This gives them an unbreakable determination to succeed in life just like the other cardinals signs, they are leaders and innovators in their field of choice. Their ruling planet is mars so they truly embody the qualities of mars : determination, go-getter, hot-headed, passionate, masculine.

Aries are the most competitive signs among all signs. They want to be number one and they will be number one no matter what. They love challenges and competition. Friendly competition is the best for them to grow and develop their qualities and strength.

Btw I don’t know why people don’t talk about this often so I’ll say it. Aries rules the head so it means smart. Even if they don’t seem like it they usually think a lot. Even if what they do seems like it’s not planned or irrational. They usually prefer to go straight up to the simplest yet most effective way to get what they want. I found them quiet smart and strategic. I’ve never met one single Aries sun who didn’t force me to think of different ways to win against them because they have already covered the whole game/situation to be sure they can win.

As long as they get what they want, they don’t really care about the rest. They truly have the « IDGAF » attitude and they’re the one who embody it perfectly. Because it’s really straight up in anyone face lmao.

I have an Aries MC myself I honestly give zero fucks sometimes at work.

Finally I’ll conclude by saying that Aries placements are kinda scared. They are scared honestly. Because they are the first sign of the zodiac ? That’s maybe why they behave impulsively. It’s like a kid who’s supposed to learn how to swim but it’s his first time at the pool and he’s scared. Aries placements experience first times differently than other signs. They need to feel safe and guided to not fear the experience and dive in.

I dated an Aries Venus and he was scared of plenty of new experiences I wanted to try with him and he wanted to take it slow when it came to love, playtime or when it came to his feelings. I felt that he was actually afraid to start a serious relationship for the first time. I always was guiding him for him to feel safe with his emotions and his love. He told me he was discovering a new world with me.

Last thing : the opposite of Aries is Libra so Aries can also demonstrate balance and peace within their peers and friends, most Aries placements that I know are loved and popular. They make friends easily and people trust them fast because they’re honest and straightforward and they go for it ! They’re really admirable people. Aries is really the popular kid just like Libra.

Thank you for reading me and if this post resonates with you, feel free to like, comment or reblog it 💜

[autisticlee]

before realizing/accepting i'm asexual, I would assume I just "didn't grow up yet" or whatever. even though I was the only one my age who didn't have crushes or think any celebrities or classmates were hot, year after year. everyone told me there was something wrong with me, so I started thinking there must be. I tried to force myself to experience crushes and attraction at some point to fit in and always had people trying to "fix" me. even doctors were concerned when I told them I had no sex drive or asked them if I could answer "asexual" on the sexuality question on the papers you have to fill out (you can't choose that. it's not an option. and they won't add it for me. i just said bisexual because youre forced to choose one)

at some point a while ago, I decided to transition and go on hormones. researching about the effects of T and seeing other people's experiences, it was basically saying it's guaranteed to make your sex drive go wild or create one if you have none. so I thought maybe that's my issue and it would fix it, or whatever. one reason I decided to take hrt was because I had adverse reactions to my body's natural hormones (pmdd. which I suspect might be an intolerance to female hormones. at least that's what the symptoms seem to feel like. I hope they do more research into it. i'm curious. but this is off topic lol) and wanted to stop feeling like absolute shit 25 out of 31 days a month. I thought maybe this lack of interest in sexual and even romantic relations was due to that because it is one of the main symptom of it apparently. well, turns out hrt made me go from casual disinterest to straight-up repulsed lmao. it had the complete opposite effect from everything i've seen and read.

i'm just a silly little asexual after all.

[kuroos-moon]

��Meet My Grlfriend’ Video

pairing: streamer!kenma x reader

request: scenario where timeskip!streamer!kenma does sort of a "meet my girlfriend" video 

You properly sat on the couch as if you were in a job interview, eyeing him nervously as he busies himself with setting up the camera. 

What if they don’t like me? And what if they judge Kenma for it? Invasive thoughts had been occupying your mind the whole time that you don’t notice him crouch down before you with him sitting on his heels. 

“They’ll love you,” the corner of his lips slightly tug up into a reassuring smile. 

“Yeah, I hope. It just kinda feels like I’m meeting your parents all over again,” you chuckle, refusing to let your nervousness show and give him a clue of what kinds of things you’ve been thinking. 

“Okay, I’ll start the stream now,” he mutters, tilting his head up to give you a chaste kiss before he stands up and makes his way to his computer. 

You run your sweaty palms across your jean-clothed thighs, taking note of your breathing as you give yourself your last-minute pep talk to boost your confidence. This was both your ideas anyway, but what really brought this on was the increasing amount of fans who asked what his relationship status was, which he replied to honestly and bluntly during one of his streams.

____

“Oh, my status?” He asks in surprise, his cat eyes momentarily looking at the comments of his stream to see that the population of his female fans begged him to be single, making him chuckle almost mockingly as if to say, ‘none of you all know anything.’

“I’m taken by the best woman there is.” 

___

“Hey, what’s up you guys, I’ve somewhat dragged my girlfriend into this since you all were so eager,” he casually says with a small grin; it’s as if they were really there and they were really friends. 

He looked so cute; sitting beside you relaxedly with his legs crossed on top of the cushion. For a moment you forgot that Kenma was initially socially awkward from the way he carried himself and spoke so naturally to his viewers.

You look towards the screen, seeing a variety of comments: some were compliments and some were as you expect— hateful. “Uh, hi,” you shyly say, your cheeks heating up as you suddenly felt far too self-conscious. Kenma faces you and lifts up his hand to the side of your face, his slender, delicate fingers tucking locks of your hair behind your ear. 

He may have done it for the fans to see— you’re quite unsure— however, that’s what he always did to calm you down when you cry or to help you relax when you can’t fall asleep; and just like then, it had the same effect now.

You can’t let Kenma down, you tell yourself. “I, as you all know, am Kenma’s girlfriend and I’m really thankful that you all wanted to meet me,” you smile and wave, chuckling a bit when you see the comments. 

‘you’re really pretty!!’

‘so kodzuken plays games all day and has a girl— god rlly has favorites.’

‘do you play games too?”

“Uh sure, I do play games,” you sheepishly smile as Kenma instantly snorts from beside you, his arm casually wrapping around your shoulders at the same time. “Hey!” You frown at his reaction and he apologizes while laughing. 

‘oml he’s laughing’

‘all I see are precious angels, they look too good together’

‘why’s he laughing at you y/n? lol share ur inside jokes’

“She plays alright,” Kenma sends you a teasing look which made you lightly elbow his stomach, earning you another chuckle from him, “she plays but she really, really, shouldn’t.” 

“Stop making fun of me,” you hiss. 

“She’s sooo bad at it, it’s like she’s aiming to lose,” Kenma grins, and you scoff, shrugging his arm off your shoulder as you turn your attention again to the comments. 

‘Kodzuken you’re just on a diff level dude, you’re too harsh’

‘well opposites do attract’

‘kenma im bad at games too, do I stand a chance?’ 

‘oh, so bad gamers are like… his type?’

‘how much does y/n suck in games?’

“Now look what you did,” you glare at him and he only smiles, snuggling closer to you just like a kitten. 

“Y’know I admit that I am a bit bad in games but I only ever played when I started dating this devil,” you try to get the fans to see you in a better light and not just as a girlfriend who sucks at her boyfriend’s forte. 

‘when did you guys start dating?’ 

“Five years ago,” you grin.

“Four years ago.” 

You both spoke at the same time and you turn to him immediately. “How could you forget that?” 

“But we did start dating only four years ago,” he blinks. Neither of you even want to turn to look at the comments because it was kind of awkward for you both to answer wrong on such a simple question. 

“I asked you out five years ago,” you raise a brow. Yet you immediately regret saying that out loud. 

‘wait so SHE asked him out?’

‘what’s wrong with girls asking out someone?’

‘was kenma forced or smthn lmao’ 

‘but y/n asking him out is cute>.<’ 

“Relax guys, I wasn’t forced… well at some point,” he laughs, making you shove a pillow at him.

Before you had the chance to say anything, he pulls you to his lap and wraps his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Don’t lose your temper during a stream, bunny,” he whispers. 

“What happened was that y/n… had a crush on me, and I was significantly more awkward in high school than I am now so when she asked me out I freaked because of how close she was and said yes,” he laughs and you turn to him in surprise, “she was really pretty how could I register a word she was saying.” 

“Wait so… when you said you wanted to be my boyfriend and I said you are my boyfriend four years ago, that was the time you realized we were dating?” 

He nods. 

‘That’s some huge misunderstanding.’

‘don’t you guys like have anniversaries? How could u mess that up lol’

‘still your romance is straight out a shoujo manga’

‘y’all are too cute’

‘must protect’

‘keny/n: *exists* fans: *gently holds*’ 

“We don’t really celebrate anniversaries, we just kinda secretly keep count,” he mutters. 

“Yeah, and look what kind of misunderstanding that brought up,” you chuckle. 

‘hey kenma any plans on wifing her up?’ 

“hmm, I guess, yeah. Soon,” he casually says. 

You thought you were the only one flustered by what he had just said, but it clearly was not the case as seen by how he buried his face at the crook of your neck and hid from his viewers for five minutes straight. 

[dr3amofagame]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 24

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.3k

Chapter warnings: feels, a lot of fucking feels

A/N: This chapter is set after season three. // SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER BITCHES (of the main story at least lol) this one was quite difficult for me, idk, DIALOGUE HEAVY so beware, i wanna thank @mouthymandalorian because she read half of this and gripped my shoulders, slapped me and told me it had substance, and @purplepascal042 ​ bc she just makes me feel so sure of myself and this shitshow lmao and she gave us Carlos, i love you guys so much

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous // next→

gif: @pescopadral

Home.

He smelled like home.

“You stopped smoking?” you mumbled against his shoulder when you didn’t find traces of smoke on his shirt, Javier scoffed and gripped you tighter against him.

“Kinda.”

“Good, horrible habit.” you teased him and for the first time in five months, you heard him chuckle.

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes when his hands started roaming slowly through your back.

It was like you two never actually stopped hugging; you were marveled by the feeling of his hands in your body; they belonged there; it was as if his touch was meant only for you. He gripped and caressed you as if his hands had gone through a touch withdrawal. He fit there. You fit there.

“How long have we been hugging?” you teased and Javier scoffed again, a little harder, the warm air he let out clashing with the skin of your neck, it made you shiver and you smiled.

“Don’t know but don’t stop.” he replied softly, and you felt your smile growing, you opened your eyes and saw the way his body was curled against yours, almost wrapping it.

You turned your eyes to the dark sky and sighed again at the sight of the stars; they looked so close and so bright you were sure, in that moment, with him gripping you and anchoring you to the earth you had been walking alone for so long, you could reach them.

“I missed you.” you let out, your voice small, your tone warm, it made him smile.

“Yeah.” he moved his arms and stepped back from the embrace to look at you, his hands slid from your back to your waist and the hand that wasn’t holding the letter back to your face.

“Hi.” you whispered, the muscles of cheeks started to sting because of the smile you were holding.

“Hi.” Javier replied. 

Your wandering hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, and then you cupped his face. He leaned into your touch as you studied his face and re-learned the features you had committed to memory, for later use or later torture, your brain struggling to grasp the fact that he was there, right in front of you; but he was, you were making sure of it as your fingers touched every single inch of his skin, Javier closed his eyes and sighed when the pads of your fingers slid through his forehead and slowly made their way to his mid brow, the perpetual frown you had met him wearing had disappeared.

“Open your eyes.” you whispered to him and he did without questioning, looking at you; there were the remnants of some unshed tears from earlier, but they were the same you had seen in between dreams, they were the same eyes you had craved for when you couldn’t hold yourself whole, when you couldn’t stand up straight, when you felt like your pieces weren’t being glued properly; and they were on you.

“What are you looking at?” he whispered his question as he moved his face closer to you. You smiled at him again as if you had stopped smiling at all, and you remembered that self-doubt that crept inside you all those months before when you wanted nothing more but to have him look at you like he loved you; your smile faded when you realized he was looking at you differently.

It wasn’t the same look he used to give you when he woke you up after spending the night together; it wasn’t the same way he looked at you across the office bullpen at the embassy in Bogotá; it wasn’t the same look you used to get when you said some horrible joke or a funny remark or a teasing comment or a snarky toned word.

But it wasn’t hard. His eyes were looking at you deeply, but you didn’t know what it meant.

“You.” you whispered your reply, and he smiled at you.

“Good.” he said and brought your face to his.

Javier’s lips took yours and he let out a sigh when he felt you kissing him back.

It was as if he never stopped kissing you.

He knew your movements; he knew you loved when his tongue brushed your lower lip, and how you sighed every time he opened his mouth slightly and took your lip again between his.

Every single thing fit; you there, standing in front of him; you there, in his arms; your lips between his lips, your hands touching his skin.

It felt right. It was right.

It was giving him everything he kept longing for when he listened to that tape with your voice; it was giving him the life he thought he wouldn't have anymore, the one he knew he didn’t even deserve.

Javier gripped you tighter against his chest and deepened the kiss. You let out a soft moan and he wanted to smirk; he still had the same effect over you as you had over him.

How could he have gone through life without your kisses? without your touch? without your essence lingering close to him?

With you there, it felt like there was no time in Javier’s life where you weren’t present in some way.

You just crept inside his body and his heart and his mind and you stayed there.

“Let’s get inside.” he muttered against your mouth, you breathed in deeply as he stepped away from you and grabbed your hand.

“Are you sure?” you said, looking at him. Javier frowned.

“Yeah, I just asked you to stay.” he tugged at your hand and pulled you softly towards the house.

You bit your lip and followed him to the house. There was a feeling nagging at your chest you recognized as that self-doubt that you thought you had left inside the glove box of your car and you tried to breathe it away.

The door was still open, and you took then a moment to look around; having been busy crying the first time you walked inside; immediately to the left there was a big archway that led to a dining room that looked simple and comically unused, stiff and almost out of character; straight to the front there was that archway you had seen Chucho disappear into the kitchen and the living room was fairly big; mostly occupied by a dark couch that looked more loved that any other piece of furniture there with a wood, cluttered console table almost protecting the back and two red armchairs on the sides, a sharp-edged coffee table between them that held a few wood figurines on the surface and a big fireplace that filled the opposite on wall; and the free spaces on the walls were filled with pictures and framed newspaper clips with both Chucho and Javier, some of them were in spanish; there were books resting on almost every surface: the fireplace mantelpiece, a cornered bookshelf behind a lamp, an end table next to one of the armchairs.

On the wall above the fireplace there was a mounted alligator gar fish you actually stopped to look at.

“What?” Javier turned to look at you, following your gaze and standing up straighter.

“Did your dad–‌”

“Yeah,” he cut you off. You looked at him and saw him with his proud smirk adorning his face “Carlos has been here since I was a kid,” he explained and you snorted “what?”

“His name is Carlos?” you asked between a tight laugh that helped ease you in, he nodded a few times, enjoying the sound of your laugh so close to him instead of in his mind “you named him, right?” Javier smiled and shook his head.

“My mom did.” he replied. Your laughter stopped, and you scrunched up your nose.

“Sorry.” you muttered almost cautiously. Which he noticed.

“Don’t do that.” he stepped close to you.

“Do what?” you asked him, widening your eyes as if he had caught you stealing Carlos.

“Loosen up,” his hand slid from your hand up your arm and rested on your shoulder, he squeezed it softly and kneaded the flesh a few times “you’re not with a stranger.”

“But you are.” you replied in a whisper before you could stop yourself, Javier licked his lower lip and cupped your face with both hands, leaning to leave a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Am I?” he turned around and kept guiding you through the house. 

You frowned at his response. Did he forget? It was as if the hug you had shared a few minutes before had made him forget the entirety of the time you didn’t even talk and you started feeling anxious about it. You didn’t like not knowing, and even when he turned left into a hallway which was filled with more framed pictures of him and his dad and some older pictures of him with more people; you felt the urge to ask him if there was something else hidden behind that smile you loved, but you weren’t expecting to receive.

You crossed the threshold of a room you immediately recognized as his; it smelled like him; the bed was poorly made and there was a thick brown book resting on top of the left pillow.

“You sleep here,” he said. You looked at the bed and turned to him “I’ll take the couch.”

“Are you crazy?” you shook your head “this is your room, I can sleep on the couch I don’t care.”

Javier stood there for a moment, not looking at you, he sighed heavily and walked to sit on the edge of the bed, dropping the letter on the nightstand.

“What the fuck are we doing?” he mumbled, leaning to rest his arms on his knees and his face on one hand.

“What do you mean?” you stood where he left you and fidgeted with your unoccupied hands.

“We’re dancing ‘round each other,” he scoffed, shaking his head, “why?” he asked as he turned his head to gaze at you.

You didn’t move but took his eyes in and the way he was looking at you that was hauntingly different from the ones you were used to get from him.

“I don’t know,” you sighed out, dropping your eyes to the carpeted floor as you tried to analyze your own feelings “I feel like…” you started and saw him out of the corner of your eye shift on the bed towards you “I don’t deserve this, y’know?” your eyes were stuck to the fibers of the carpet and you felt his brown gaze on your body as you tried to put the mess of feelings that was churning inside your gut into words “I don’t know why you’re taking me in, why do you want me to stay?”

Javier saw you lift your face to him and he sighed when he saw your eyes filled with tears again, he stood from the bed and all but strode to you, his hands immediately found their home on your waist and he shivered at the way you sighed when you felt him close to you.

“You forgot what I did to you?” you asked, your eyes on him and Javier felt your eyes staring deeply inside him.

“No,” he replied “but you’re here, you’re here when I thought I’d never see you again,” he shrugged slightly and you shook your head “and we can work all this out.” he let out on a breath.

“Work this out?” you questioned in a whisper, Javier nodded “we haven’t seen each other in five months, wha–‌what does work this out mean?”

Javier gulped and realized he didn't know exactly what it meant.

And you were there, having doubts about the whole ordeal already.

“You don’t know, do you?” you asked him as your hands slid up to his chest and he shook his head no twice.

“Look,” he whispered out, trying to get you closer to him “I’ve been trying to process everything, and…” he pursed his lips trying to find the words inside his head, “and I realized none of it matters to me anymore.” he muttered.

You looked at him hesitantly, Javier recognized the insecure look in your eyes from earlier and from the last days you two had shared in Bogotá.

He hated that you weren’t saying anything; he despised not knowing what you were thinking because your face wasn’t giving him any hints; it was blank, and there were just jots and iotas of what looked like random emotions to him. He wanted to ask, but he knew you had to think about everything as well.

The silence was warm and heavy with anticipation and doubt, and he wanted nothing else but to light up a cigarette and cover it with nicotine smoke.

He was holding your body; his hands resting on your waist as his thumbs smeared the fabric of your shirt around your skin. You were there, but you weren’t.

“Where did you go?” he asked, his deep timber low and intrigued.

You doubted a bit, biting your lip as you formed your abstracts into shapes inside your head, he looked so sure of everything; he looked at you like you were the one that hung the bright stars on the dark sky you were wishing to grasp minutes earlier, and you felt it wrong.

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled out, to nothing and to the heavy silence and to yourself, Javier narrowed his eyes “I hurt you,” you said, nodding once, as if emphasizing it “I lied to you,” you nodded again and Javier mimicked the action “I hid things from you bu–‌but I’m here, for some reason?” you shrug your shoulders in confusion and Javier huffed, frustrated.

Javier wasn’t sure of what the future looked like for either of you, but he understood that doubt you were letting out, he had felt it for a long time and he wanted to get rid of it; he remembered your earlier words of seeking closure, and he imagined how confusing it must be.

He wanted to show you how much you were wanted, but knowing you, he had to say it out loud.

“Let’s talk,” he muttered “we’re not talking, and we need to,” you blinked a few times while his words sank into you, you nodded and let him guide you to the bed, he gestured for you to sit and he sat next to you on the mattress “but first I need you to stop walking on eggshells.”

“I’m not walking on eggshells.” you furrowed your brow.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, leaning his face to you “you're hesitating, where is that woman that called out my shit as she saw it?”

You dropped your eyes to the floor and felt them fill with tears, Javier pinched your chin lightly and moved your head for you to see him.

“I have no idea where she is, Javi,” you muttered as two tears escaped from your eyes, he brushed them off with his other hand, “I think she left, or maybe she never existed,” you sniffed “I have no idea who I am.”

Javier looked into your watery eyes and, as more tears slid through your cheeks, he understood another nuance of you, the weight of what the two of you had lived, together and on your own, not only harmed him. It harmed you too in more than one way; and he had been blinded by his own pain that he just didn’t think about yours.

“Let me tell you who you are,” he said “you are a smart woman, that fears nothing and if she does she doesn’t let anyone know it,” his hands cupped your face as more tears fell “you are funny,” the corner of his mouth lifted and you scoffed “and you’re beautiful in a way I don’t understand,” his thumb started drawing small circles on the skin of your cheek “you put up with me and I don’t know how, I’m the most difficult bastard I know,” he let out a soft chuckle and you smiled at him “you are restless and brave…”

“I’m not.” you shook your head, Javier brushed your lips closed with a thumb.

“Strong and driven, so damn stubborn you just refuse to look at what I’m doing.” he let out.

“What?” you frowned again in confusion and Javier smiled softly at you.

“I hugged you,” he muttered and mimicked the nodding of his head you directed to him before “I kissed you, I escorted you personally to my room and you still think I don’t want you here.”

“I don’t deserve it.” you whispered against his thumb.

Javier looked at you and tried to dig up with his gaze the feeling that was keeping you from being that woman he had fallen in love with; your tear-filled eyes that looked at everything and at nothing at the same time, your trembling lower lip, your hushed voice tone that was so different and so far away from that tone you commanded and demanded respect with when he met you.

He found it ironic how much the tables had turned in so little time.

“You’re right,” he let out, dragging his thumb from your lips to your cheeks “we don’t deserve it,” he shook his head a few times “this?” he aimed his head around and sighed “it’s too good for both of us,” you nodded and rolled your eyes slightly, he was right, “but I think we’ve earned the right to be selfish, don’t you?”

His words sank inside you like a pebble on a calm lake and eased little by little that uncontrollable cyclone that were your emotions; how was he so right?

“Who are you and what did you do to Javier Peña?” you asked him, making him chuckle again.

“I’m me, baby,” he muttered, and you felt your breath hitch at the endearment “renewed and a bit patched up.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” you mumbled out, Javier took your head and made you look at him.

“I know, stop saying that, I know.” he sighed and leaned towards you, leaving another soft kiss on your lips.

“I think I’m gonna spend the rest of my time making it up to you.” you whispered against his lips and he smiled.

“The rest of it?” he teased. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Every minute.”

“You don’t have to,” he sat back and dropped his hands from your face, taking one of yours and gripping it tightly. His eyes fell to your intertwined fingers “just be here.”

“Javier,” you called out, and he looked at you “how do I know you won’t resent me for this?”

“You don’t,” he let out, you let out the air that was trapped in your lungs “I don’t either,” you saw him shrug and smirk at you “let’s just hope it doesn’t happen.”

“Fuck,” you chuckled out, he smiled at you and you sighed in relief “I love you.”

Javier’s face fell for the total amount to two seconds that felt like two hours when you saw his smile fade into a wide-eyed, surprised grin.

Your heart was beating at the rhythm of a racehorse’s gallop, but you didn’t take it back, you couldn’t, after showing him and after doing what you did, you couldn’t just erase it because it was true.

And saying it, to him, out loud, made your body feel as light as a falling leaf.

“Good to know,” he let out, his lips curving in a half open smile you had seen exactly once in all the time you knew him “because I love you too.”

As soon as he said it Javier took your hands and pulled you flush to his chest. A soft yelp escaped your mouth because of the force, and your arms instantly wrapped themselves around his shoulders. He hid his face inside the crook of your neck and you felt a shiver roam up and down your back when he inhaled you in.

“This’s nice.” his voice was muffled by your skin and the fabric of your shirt, you huffed.

“It is.” you whispered, laying your head on his shoulder and sighing again contentedly.

“Are you tired?” he asked without moving and you nodded “you wanna sleep?” he asked again and you nodded a second time.

“Will you sleep here?” you mumbled, closing your eyes as his essence and the warmth of his body mingled with yours and settled inside you.

“You want me to?”

“I’d love you to.”

Your phrase seemed to wake him up from the temporal slumber your embrace had put him into and he helped you stand up from the bed; he said nothing as he walked to his closet on the corner of the room, grabbed a white t-shirt and handed it to you.

“The bathroom is just getting out of the hallway, if you wanna change there,” he said with a slight shrug, and you let out a giggle, as if he didn’t know already every inch of your body “I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” you said, walking towards the black desk on the opposite corner of his room and leaving the t-shirt on the surface, taking off your shoes.

Javier rolled his eyes as he turned around and pulled down the bedsheets, he grabbed the book from the pillow to rest on his nightstand. He took the letter he had dropped there first and turned to find you taking off your jeans, already wearing his shirt.

You looked at him and gave him a soft smile as he walked towards the desk, opened one of the small drawers and tossed the letter inside.

“You should burn that.” you teased.

“Never.” he teased back, stealing another chuckle out of you. He walked around you towards his closet and started pulling off his clothes.

“I like that shirt.” you went to the bed and sat back on the edge. He looked down at the red fabric and then shook his head.

“‘S yours if you want it.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in feigned consideration “looks better on you,” he smiled as he slid the shirt off his shoulders, “you still sleep on the right side?” you asked, turning back to the bed, smiling as your eyes landed on his nightstand and recognized the book he was reading: Cien años de soledad… your copy.

“Yeah.”

“You stole my book.” you turned to him as he was finishing putting on pajama pants.

“What?”

“I lent you that book,” you pointed back at the nightstand with your thumb “you sneaky asshole,” you teased and he started laughing in silence, walking towards you “I’m gonna steal it back.”

Javier grabbed your hand from your lap and pulled you to stand up, his hands wrapped your waist as he stopped laughing and your hands landed on his naked chest.

“You were right, though,” he muttered, leaving a kiss on your cheek “I needed to read some fiction.”

“I still can’t believe you never read it.” you teased him, tracing his collarbone with your fingers.

Silence fell upon you again as he rested his lips on the skin of your cheekbone. But, as most things that day, it turned back into a comfortable, lighter silence that was miles and miles away from the ones you had shared in Colombia.

Everything there was so different than it was before but you knew, deep inside, that it wasn’t a bad turn; and it made you think that maybe, the time you two spent apart, as horrid, painful and rough as it was; was needed.

He couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop touching you, his hands had missed the texture of your skin and the warmth of your body, Javier moved his hands only to let you lay down on the bed next to him, he turned off the lights and almost immediately, brought you back to him, your chest resting on his side, your head resting on his chest, the skin on skin contact was doing wonders to him and he knew he wouldn’t need anything else as long as you gave him permission to touch you.

“They offered me México.” he mumbled out, breaking the tranquil, dark silence you were snuggling under as his hand rested on your rib side.

“What?” you asked, turning your head on his chest to face him.

“After Cali, when I resigned, they offered me México.” he said, you frowned.

“That’s ironic.”

“Yeah.”

“You would’ve hated it.” you said, your fingers tracing shapeless figures on his skin.

“Why?”

“They made it a hellhole.” you shrugged slightly and his chest rose with the deep breath he took.

“Would’ya ever tell me ‘bout your time there?” he asked softly, bringing you closer to him.

“Yeah, at some point,” he hummed in response, “your dad called me Florecita.”

“Uhm, yeah.” he let out.

“Why? you didn’t tell him my name?” you asked him softly.

“I did… but the nickname kinda stuck.” he huffed. You squinted to study his features in the dark and saw him smirk.

“You called me that, right? when you talked to him?” you questioned teasingly “is that the nickname you gave me?” he nodded, and you rolled your eyes.

“You don’t like it?” he teased back.

“I mean…” you hesitated, knowing he’d tease you “I kinda do,” he laughed, and you slapped his pectoral softly “shut up.” you hid your face in his chest.

“Ay, mi florecita.” (my little flower)

“Don’t call me that.” you said in fake chastisement and he kissed the crown of your head.

He chuckled and the soft movement of his chest and the sound of his silent breathing lulled you to sleep. 

For the first time in months, you fell asleep with ease.

That night Javier slept better than he had in ten years.

←previous // next→

*ABOUT CARLOS*

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[moonshine-dan]

Quick Bite (p.1)

Osamu x GN! Reader, 2.5 K

Warnings: Odaxelagnia (biting kink), explicit sexual situations, swearing

Kinks: Biting, dry humping/thigh riding, coming untouched, handjobs, praise

Synopsis: 100% Smut. You tell Osamu you have a certain kink. He explores it with you.

The way I'm such a whore for this man now 😔 @crocyoota i blame you for making me a full time Osamu simp. Also thanks for beta-ing exactly one line of this lmao

Osamu's mouth closed over the pulse point at the base of your neck. Softly, he mouthed the skin there, warm lips feathering over your taut muscles stretched in anticipation of his next move.

He had you in his lap, palms smoothing circles along the outside of your hips and sweeping up to clutch your ass. Long fingers pressed softly into you, pressing tiny patterns into your flesh. He mouthed your neck tenderly, traveling languidly up your throat, dragging his soft lips along your jugular before arriving just below your jaw. Another soft kiss there, just a touch more intent than before. You shivered, hands roaming his chest and winding into his hair.

He was teasing you, intentionally or not. Your early morning makeout session before you both had to work usually involved more tongue than this, but you had recently told him about how sensitive your neck was and how you wanted him to try marking you sometime. Of course he was going to take his time and work you out, to memorize what made you moan the most so he could do it better next time. He never half-assed anything, but fuck if you didn't want him to go faster.

Osamu is oblivious to your desires. He continues to graze his lips down the opposite side of your neck, starting again as he reaches your collarbone. He was pressing just a touch harder now, contact a little rougher as he mouthed your throat. You shift slightly, your pulse jumping as he finally introduced his tongue. He lapped at your clavicle, licking his way back up yet again to meet your jaw. ah. You can't help but sigh and tug at his roots as the muscle traces a path below your ear, the spit cooling and making your skin impossibly more sensitive.

He stays there, pressing light kisses to the tender skin and tracing shapes with his tongue. You're tingling, already a little lightheaded from all the light touches. He brands another shape to your skin. A triangle? He's made that shape a few times, but now he's adding…. No. He's drawing a tiny Onigiri on you with his tongue, the pattern unmistakable. You drop your hands from his hair and start to say something, but Osamu was waiting for you to figure it out- he was ready, cutting you off by mouthing the same spot and sucking.

And oh, how you had been wanting this.

A pleasant buzz is building in the base of your skull. When Osamu sucks down, lips working into your neck, it builds a little more, fuzzes the edge of your vision and radiates down to your fingers. You flick them idly, remembering belatedly that you had a perfectly hot boyfriend to be groping. Sliding under his arms, you reach his back and massage the muscles there with your fingertips. His skin is golden under yours, hot and receptive to your touch. 'Samu grunts in appreciation at the attention, the vibrations adding to the suction he's applying to your neck. ghh.

He continues, mouth open and tongue flicking as he slides over your throat to catch up on the other side of your neck.

You push into his lap further unconsciously. Heavy hands on your hips stabilize you, one leaving to snake up your spine and grab at the hair at the back of your head. He grips sturdily and eases your head to the side for easier access to your neck. The buzzing in your skull gets louder still.

You're rocking slightly now, thighs flexing as you ache for something more. The hand on your waist grips tighter, trying to still you as Osamu worked his lips over a spot he had bullied before, suctioning up and scraping his teeth over the heated skin. "Hahh… Osamu..." You groan into your shoulder, his mouth pressing into the skin he had just abused, pulling it right back into his mouth with an obscenely wet sound.

The necking has all your blood rushing straight south, emptying your brain of any thoughts besides rutting into him. Everything he does, the way his tongue teased your sensitive skin, to the bruising pressure of his lips that brought the wet heat of his mouth to you: all of it drives you out of control.

He released his lips with a wet pop! and sighs lightly, the cool breath flowing over the heat from your overworked neck causing you to jerk into his lap further. You feel the rumble of his chest before his deep baritone reaches your ears-

“Quit squirmin’.”

He finishes his command by leaning in and biting down on the bruising skin he had just pulled away from.

The moan shocks one of you more than the other. The bite has the opposite effect Osamu wanted, sending you rocking further into his lap. Your hips cant up, mouth slack and eyes half-lidded, pulse throbbing where his teeth had made light intentions in your skin. You know what? Fuck it. You had time before work, and Osamu clearly underestimated how into this you’d be. You grind down onto him again, angling for his half-erect cock.

"Please, Osamu," you pant out, practically begging, "do that again."

You can feel his dick twitch in interest at your words. His grip on your ass becomes bruising as his fingers knead into you intently. He leads your head up to meet his, observing the way your face flushed darker, pupils blown so wide you could barely see the iris.

"You're really into this, huh."

He was nosing into your neck, breath ghosting over the fresh bite and driving you crazy. Yes. Was your request not enough? You hoped he wouldn't make you actually beg. The hand on your ass squeezes, making you squeak. It quickly changes to a moan as he bites again at the thin skin below your ear.

"I'm kinda startin' to see the appeal m'self…"

He shifts minutely. From below, you feel his erection, solid. Throbbing. Fuck, finally. You grind into his length and finally hear him groan. The sound makes you push down harder, eager to hear what other sounds you could pull from your boyfriend.

You snap your hands to his waist, bracing yourself as you fling a leg over his thigh to push your own into his cock. Osamu's grinding into you eagerly now, groaning, friction mutually given between you both. His hands find your sides and he splays his fingers, rubbing lines up the planes of your ribcage. Every tense of muscle creates a delicious pressure that's building in your core alongside the buzz in your skull.

He slides his hands over your chest, cupping you with both hands and squeezing before joining with his mouth, kissing your sternum. He brings one of your arms to his mouth, kissing the underside of your wrist tenderly. His teeth press in lightly as he swipes his tongue over the tendons. Your pulse thrums, electric.

The tension in the air changes subtly, stilling you for a moment. Osamu peers up at you with a discerning gaze. You met his eyes, mildly concerned at the sudden shift in mood. What was he looking for?

"You're so sweet, darlin'. So sweet to me. Think I'm gonna call you melonpan from now on."

His eyes are teasing. Your ears are burning. This asshole did not just call you fucking melonpan.

He catches your eyes and wrinkles his brow, cheeky grin splitting his face as he took your expression in. He just wanted to see you blush. fucker, you think, cheeks flaming. It worked.

His eyes sharpen with a predatory look.

"I wasn't a hundred percent honest, babe. I'm sorry. It's actually because I wanna sink my teeth into you."

True to his words, he bites into your neck, targeting the hickey that was developing.

Oh. Oh. Maybe the nickname was ok, actually.

Your breath and your thoughts quickly leave you. It's impossible to talk, to even think, mind too focused on the sensation of Osamu sucking the bruising bite on your neck.

This is what you had wanted, but you hadn't expected it to feel quite this… debilitating. The pleasure crossed with the pain in a way you could only describe as delicious, your nerves alright with conflicting signals. Your brain, quite literally, did not know how to process it. The result was the ever-encompassing buzz that was spreading from your skull to the rest of your body.

Ghhh, is what you manage to verbalize.

Osamu hasn't stopped, teeth finding old marks to push into, sucking and rolling the skin and muscle of your neck to the point of bruising. He brands new ones where he hasn't, leaving a patchwork pattern of hickies like a collar for anyone to see.

His tongue swipes along your heated skin, the wet heat soothing where he had previously teased. He grinds into your shaking leg, precome smoothing the friction as he ruts into your thigh. You're shaking, and he knows you're close, even without his hands or his cock. To see you coming undone with nothing but his mouth and his thigh? christ. Osamu's head isn't as big as his brother's, but it's almost enough to make him cum right there.

He's eager to see what pushes you over the edge.

"You're doing so good, baby, fuck," Osamu says into your neck, sucking loudly at the skin. "So fucking sweet, baby….. skin's so fucking sweet….." he bites down, hard, at the base of your neck and feels how your body freezes, every muscle tightening, tremulous. He chews, rolling the muscle under the skin as you cry out his name.

"hah, god, Osamu….!"

Your vision blurs, whitening around the edge. Your body is locking and you suck in a deep breath involuntarily. Is this a stroke? Are you dying? You've never felt this kind of brain failure during sex before. Oh my god, oh my god, fuck…!

Your release hits like lightning straight to your core. Your abdominals tightened, the buzzing in your skull intensifying and pulsing as it races through you. You arch backwards, tensing, eyes rolled back and grinding against his thigh. You shake as the sensation passes through you like an electric current, your body locking up in tension and pleasure simultaneously. Holy shit. Coming has never felt quite like this before, numbing you just as much as it brought you to ecstasy. You can't hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears as your muscles throb, your whole body tightening and relaxing, leaving your muscles burning deliciously as the buzzing finally begins to fade.

Your forehead thunks against his shoulder as you go boneless in his arms. Distantly, you think your legs are shaking.

Holy shit.

He didn't even touch you.

You need a minute to catch your breath.

Before you can though, Osamu is pushing you backwards. You hit the covers with a muffled thwump and he’s above you before you can blink, leaning into your space on his left arm as the other reaches down to stroke his cock.

"Y’can’t just give me a show like that, baby, what'd I do to deserve it?"

He drops his head to your chest and licks along your clavicle before drifting lower and sucking a hickey onto your chest. His right hand speeds up, pumping faster as he marks your chest again and again. His mouth finds a nipple and rolls it with his mouth, scraping it roughly with his teeth and sucking hard, making you jerk up from the bed slightly. It's almost too much, creeping up fast on overstimulation, but you focus. You still haven't gotten your mind one hundred percent back online from your previous climax, but you manage to reach down to cup his balls and tug gently.

Osamu's head lolls to the side and he groans. This close, you can see the sweat beading at his temples. Squeezing lightly and rolling your palm, you tug again, tapping your fingers lightly across the back. His hips snap forward fervently, your touch finally pushing him over the edge. "Comin'...!"

His words cut off into a low groan as he comes undone above you, hips stuttering, fucking into his fist. Osamu angles his cock down at you as he climaxes, hot ropes of his cum painting your stomach white. You dimly think that he's now marked you two entirely different ways.

A hand at your cheek makes you look back up. Osamu's looking at you with an emotion in his eyes that defies description. He leans down to catch your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb swiping up to catch the tear handing onto your cheek. Huh. You hadn't even realized you'd been crying. The hand retracts, and Osamu pulls away and drops to the bed.

He has enough of a mind not to flop down into the mess he just made, instead falling to your side with a sigh, eyes shut and thoroughly blissed out. He squirms until hes slotted next to you, one arm thrown across your chest. His breath puffs into your hair and tickles your ear. Your eyes slip shut as well.

...

You're content to lay there for hours, but the cooling jizz on your abdomen eventually incentivises you to get up. You untangle yourself from Osamu and push to the edge of the bed. Looking for all the world like a newborn deer, you wobble on unsteady legs to the bathroom in search of a warm washcloth.

Osamu's peace is short lived, eyes flying open at your shout:

"Fucks sake, Osamu! We have to open in an hour! How am I gonna work front of house looking like this?" You emerge from the bathroom, now clean of cum but covered in bruises of varying darkness from the neck down.

He blinks owlishly before shuttering his eyes and smirking.

"You literally asked me to do that, baby. Said 'please' an' everything."

You have no response. He's completely right, and that only makes you angrier. You toss the washcloth at his dick and tell him to get cleaned up.

…

You both make it to Onigiri Miya with minimal issues after that. Unfortunately for you, the summer heat prevented you from wearing anything that could come close to covering up the hickies above your collar. And when more socially oblivious customers would ask what happened to you, your response was to point a finger at an unusually smug-looking Osamu.

"Ask him."

Fortunately for everyone, none of them felt the need to actually ask him.

You were gonna get his ass back so bad.

[honeytae]

could i request something fluffy with joon like an ice cream date and when the reader orders mint chocolate chip namjoon just doesnt shut up about it lol

Are you telling me I have to choose between you and mint choco?

okay so i absolutely loved this idea lmao. i’m sorry it took a while for me to get this posted, but i really hope you like this, anon!! here we have a grumpy tired joon in the studio so the reader takes him out for a little break and..you know the rest :) thank you for sending me this adorable scenario <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy

genre: fluff

word count: 2.1k

“Ugh, no.”

At Namjoon’s sudden groan, you glanced over from the opposite side of the studio as he tapped the pad of his pointer finger around the mouse, rapidly moving things around on the monitor in front of him.

Frowning, you placed your phone down onto the coffee table, pushing yourself off the loveseat you’d been reclining on to investigate.

Fingers plucking at your shirt to readjust it from where it had shifted around in your position, you walked across the room to where the man sat, sneaking up behind him to drape your arms over his shoulders.

“What’s going on?” You asked as you folded your fingers over his arm, appendages soothingly rubbing at his bicep as he let out a deep sigh.

You felt Namjoon’s shoulders ease even just the slightest at your touch, tension draining from the muscles as you set your chin atop his head to peer at his computer screen.

“I just don’t know why I can’t make this chorus work.” He sighed, and your heart twisted at his saddened tone.

He sounded genuinely disappointed in himself, something you despised and wanted to wash away immediately.

“You’ll make it work, Joonie. I know you will.” You pressed a kiss to the side of his head, the man letting out another breath as he dejectedly sunk back into his mesh chair.

Feeling the need to step in, you guided his hands off the desk and away from the monitor, smoothing over his long appendages with tender circles of your own.

“I think you need a little break.” You proposed, the man grunting a bit in protest before huffing a breath out past his lips, letting you rub at his stiffened shoulder with a stretch of his neck to give you easier access to the sore spot.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, “you deserve a break. You up for a drive?” You offered, the man shaking his head, palm placing itself onto the back of your hand as he soothed his fingers over your skin graciously.

“I’d love to babe, but I can’t.” He frowned, an expression visible to you by the reflection of his face in the fading computer screen in front of him.

“How about a walk?” You offered, adding when you sensed his hesitation, “Just fifteen minutes?”

You could see him internally debating his options before he seemed to pull the plug, nodding slowly before he began inching his chair back from the desk.

Cheering internally, you walked over to grab his coat from where he’d slung it over the back of the couch upon his arrival hours ago, offering it to him with a smile as he thanked you.

While it always took a bit of persuasion to get Namjoon out during his funks, you had learned over your time with him that he would eventually cave; although a bit stubborn, deep down he knew he needed a break from continuously racking his brain for all the right words.

And it always helped; a little bit of fresh air and non-work related conversation went a long way, his head typically clearing up within a half hour so that he could head back to his desk with fresh ideas.

“Oh, it stopped raining.”

Those were the first words out of his mouth as you both exited the building, peering up at the hazy clouds, eyes squinted at the sun appearing from behind them.

“Did that ruin your romantic fantasy of kissing me in the rain?” You flirted, alluding to the slightly disappointed tone in his voice, the man biting down on his bottom lip to contain his shy smile before he shook his head, turning toward you to pull you into his chest.

“I don’t need rain to kiss you.” He laughed, cradling your jaw in his palm as he brought his lips down to yours, tilting his head to deepen the action only slightly before pulling back with a dimpled grin.

“Romantic enough for you?” He raised his eyebrows, quiet laugh escaping his mouth when you only pulled him back for more.

Leaving chaste kisses on your bottom and top lip, butterflies erupted in your chest when he slid his palm against yours, locking his fingers around your hand as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Yeah.” You exhaled, Namjoon chuckling quietly at your sudden flustered demeanor, smiling fondly as he watched you try to regain control of yourself with a clearing of your throat, nodding your head toward the direction of the sidewalk as you gently tugged him along beside you.

You easily recovered from the moment of weakness, confidently leading him down the street with soft hums escaping your throat as his fingers gripped yours.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face when he noticed the tune of what you were singing; it was the song he’d been working on all day, bits and pieces most likely leaking out of his headphones as he worked only a few feet from you.

Smiling down at your joint hands swinging between your bodies, the sounds surrounding you completely disappeared, only your boyfriend’s soft yet sturdy hold on your appendages registering in your brain. It was just so him.

“Is that an ice cream booth?” He suddenly asked, squinting at a small sign in the distance as you lifted your head, effectively snapped out of your daze as you giggled at him.

Pulling Namjoon by his hand, you took initiative and led the way to the little ice cream shop, the man clumsily stumbling after you with a wide grin.

Wrapping an arm around your waist as you paused to stand in the back of the line, Namjoon set his chin on your head, swaying you side to side absentmindedly as his eyes scanned the list of flavors available.

“What are you getting, babe?” He asked, you humming in response with a slight shrug.

“I’m not sure yet. What are you getting?” You set your head down onto his shoulder to peer up at his face, eyes tracing his features as he blinked at the blackboard menu straight ahead of him.

“Rocky road, I think.” He answered, seemingly debating it in his head for a moment before nodding to himself, satisfied with his decision as he stepped forward to bring you both to the front of the line.

“Good afternoon, what can I get for you guys today?” The man in the vendor smiled, Namjoon giving his order with a polite nod before the man turned his attention to you.

“And what can I get for you?” He smiled kindly, causing you to step forward a bit to see the choices.

“Um,” you squinted at the menu, looking back at the man with a small grin, “mint choco, please.”

Shifting your gaze back to your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his expression, eyes widened and mouth agape in shock.

You had heard him debating his friends on mint chocolate before, expressing his open hatred for the flavor with a passion. And you’d always managed to keep quiet, only sitting back and listening with an amused smile on your face as they bantered back and forth about the topic.

But how could you not take the opportunity to mess with him when it was presented in scribbled green chalk right in front of you?

After all, you never saw a problem with mint chocolate anything. And the look on his face was fucking priceless.

The man continued staring at you in disbelief as you doubled over in front of him, clutching your sides as you wheezed at his face of genuine betrayal at the mere thought of you ordering his least favorite ice cream flavor.

“Wha- how could you?” He asked, smile lifting his lips a tad as you broke out in more giggles at his question.

“It’s good, baby.” You finally caught your breath enough to say, defending your choice as the man shot you another look of disapproval, his eyes widening further at your words.

“It’s good? It’s practically toothpaste!” He said, exasperated as he watched the man come back up to the counter with a rocky road cone in one hand, a green mint chocolate chip one in the other.

Thanking him, you took both of them in your hands, handing your boyfriend’s order over to him with a sly grin.

Walking out of the shop, you nearly snorted at the look on Namjoon’s face as you raised the cone to your mouth, his grimace evitable even from the obscured sight of him from the corner of your eye.

“Mm,” you hummed upon the ice cream meeting your tastebuds, Namjoon rolling his eyes at your exaggerated reaction with a sigh as he paused his steps and lowered himself down onto the bench beside the sidewalk.

“I cannot believe you dragged me out of the studio just to betray me like this.” He sighed, making you laugh again as you settled down beside him, easily melting into his embrace when his arm habitually fell around your shoulders.

“You like me.” You poked and prodded at his chest with your pointer finger along with the childish words, watching your boyfriend’s lips twitch a bit before he regained composure.

“I don’t know, babe. This might be a dealbreaker.” He teased, you humming in response as you licked at the pastel green ice cream once again, Namjoon pulling a scowl as he watched.

“Are you telling me I have to choose between you and mint choco?” You asked after swallowing the sweet cream, chewing on the small chocolate chip left on your tongue.

“I’m telling you that I’m very content in my rocky road bubble over here.” He smirked, raising his chocolate cone in front of his face for emphasis before glancing down at you.

“Good for you. I’m very content in my mint choco bubble, so take that.” You shot back, an amused grin on Namjoon’s face at the banter before he shook his head.

“I cannot believe you’re on that side of this argument.” He sighed, eyebrows pulled together as he watched your tongue swipe at the scoop of ice cream yet again.

“I like being on my side, personally.” You sassily shrugged a shoulder, smirking as your boyfriend scoffed at your smugness.

“The wrong side.” He muttered under his breath, chuckling when you jokingly widened your eyes at him. His dark eyes held contact with your own as a smile slowly filled his cheeks, causing your expression to do the same at the infectious dimples appearing by his mouth.

Squinting at him, you tried to place the source of his sudden change in demeanor, wiping at your lips with the back of your hand for any misplaced chocolate before pulling it away from your face to inspect your skin, clean of any chocolate chip remnants.

“What?” You questioned him, the man chuckling a breath out through his nose as he swept a piece of hair that had been moved out of place by the wind back behind your ear.

“I just can’t believe your one flaw is liking mint choco.” He responded to your confusion, smile widening when you laughed at his words.

“Yeah, and yours is being a mint choco hater.” You joked, your shoe scuffing against the cement as you kicked your foot out in front of you.

He chuckled in response, bringing the softening ice cream cone back up to his mouth again. When he pulled it away, you noticed a dark spot of chocolate gathered at the corner of his lip.

Giggling slightly at the sight, you brought your thumb up to swipe at his skin, the man’s eyes locking with your own as your hand fell back to your lap. The world around you seemed to fade away completely as you began leaning into each other, you throwing caution to the wind by pulling him in by the chin to meet his lips.

It didn’t seem to matter that your mouth definitely tasted like the mint chocolate ice cream you’d been licking at only moments before, Namjoon’s tongue swiping across your bottom lip as if you didn’t taste like something he wholeheartedly despised - or at least claimed to.

You smirked against him as his hand came up to secure the back of your head so that you couldn’t pull away, deepening the kiss with a push of his tongue into your mouth, pulling back to grin at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I thought mint choco was a dealbreaker, Joonie.” You said, tone smug as you watched the man lift his own ice cream cone to his mouth, effectively hiding his shy grin as he tongued at the chocolate swirls.

“For you, I may be willing to see past it.”

[grxtsch]

lyin’ eyes

[jimmy page x reader]

summary: after relationship troubles, (y/n) decides to leave and hopefully forget all that’s happened. but when she reaches a place that holds many memories, a certain old friend who she shared those memories with was waiting for her to return.

notes: i don’t know what that summary is but i made it up on the spot so don’t even complain abt it :P

also i personally think that this is my best fic so far so yeah enjoy ig 😩🤚

edit: LMAO this was supposed to be based off of the song by the eagles but my brain had other ideas rip

warnings: cheating (idk if i need to warn u abt that but i’m being safe), swearing, fluff

“(y/n) please wait!” a voice sounded from behind you as you dragged a suitcase filled with your clothes and other possessions to the front door.

“no chris, i’ve waited long enough at the damn restaurant and where were you?” you said, throwing your free hand up in the air. “you were fucking this bitch in our— no, your house.” you seethed back at your now ex-boyfriend, who stood with an expression of grief.

“in fact, i don’t want to wait at anymore restaurants for your stupid ass.” his grief soon turned into anger as you spun around on your heels and walked out the front door.

you could hear him shouting some profanities out of the open door, but you managed to block out his voice and instead focus on the sound of your shoes on pavement as you walked with your suitcase to wherever your feet would lead you.

you were completely done with his bullshit. coming home late claiming he was “working”, flirting with other girls when you two were out shopping, and, just like this night, leaving you stranded at some restaurant for some other chick. it wasn’t even the first time he’s done that. you were ready to leave him before this day had even started; you had spent a few days secretly putting all of your possessions into your handy suitcase, only putting away a couple things at a time so he wouldn’t notice the lack of your items in the house.

before you knew it, you were standing in front of a bar that you used to always go to with one of your dearest friends. “maybe he still comes here.” you thought as you made your way through the bar door and straight to a small booth in the far corner of the building. the same small booth that your friend and yourself had always sat at when you both would come here.

his name was james page, which he preferred jimmy, but you just used james instead to pick some fun at him. the two of you were the closest of friends, ever since your childhood where you fell off of your bike and he ran over to check to see if you were okay. he even went with you to your house just to make sure that you weren’t hurt. even as you both had gotten older, you would both help each other out with homework, watch movies together, and he even taught you some guitar chords and tricks.

the downfall of your friendship happened a while after he joined one of his first bands; the yardbirds. he would always be traveling, performing at different concert venues around the country, and even the world. at first you would just call him or he would call you on these tours, which worked well for awhile, until he got so busy with the band that he didn’t have any time to return your many missed calls.

you missed him dearly, thinking of him from time to time during the day. you often wondered what he was doing at the time when you thought of him, whether it was playing his guitar or just relaxing at wherever he may call home.

you stood up to go grab a beer, hoping to wash your thoughts away, when a very familiar sound reached your ears. it was his laughter. the same sweet laughter you grew fond of whenever you’d be around him. you didn’t know how much you longed to hear that sound again until that very moment, it almost held you in a trance until the beautiful sound melted away and the song that the jukebox was playing had replaced it.

“i was probably just imagining it.” you thought. running a hand through your hair to try and focus back on reality, you continued to the bar, a fairly large opening right in front of you that you could get to quickly. when you reached the bar, you heard a familiar voice say, “(y/n)! long time no see!” you looked up to see the bartender, florence. she has been the same bartender since you and jimmy started coming to this bar, usually just to hang out and talk about different things. you were still surprised that she still worked here, she’s not as young as she used to be, but you were glad that she was here and not some other new bartender.

“hey flo! how’s everything been recently?” you smiled lightly, not really in the mood to talk a lot, but willing to make small conversation with your old friend. “quite good dear! it’s been boring without yourself and jimmy constantly making a ruckus in here though, i kind of miss having to tell the manager about how you two broke the jukebox again!” florence joked, causing you to let out a small laugh. “yeah, those were the good old days, weren’t they?” she smiled. “they really were. anyway! how about a drink for you aye?”

“whiskey. any kind will do.” you replied, which flo nodded and went off to get your drink, coming back in record time with a glass about half way filled with the golden-brown alcohol. you smiled and said a quick “thank you” and carefully took the glass, bidding flo a farewell and she returning it.

you walked back over to your seat, the chat with florence clearing your mind of the earlier events and bringing your mood up a bit. she always had that effect on people, making them crack even a slight smile when they’re feeling blue. right as you were about to sit down, the voice that you never thought you’d hear again called out, “(y/n)? is that you?”

you set your glass down, mentally preparing to see him for the first time in a long, long time. holding your breath, you turn around and see him, the jimmy page, your old best friend. “james?” his hair was longer, barely reaching to his shoulder, and it was slicked back slightly, showing his beautiful green eyes. his smile was still the same, and you swore your heart did a backflip when he smiled at you and said “oh (y/n) i knew it was you! i couldn’t miss that gorgeous hair of yours anywhere.”

you were pretty sure that your face was bright red as you smiled bashfully. “oh thank you jim. and i see you grew yours out hm?” he chuckled, running his hand through his hair softly and said “yeah, i just thought why the hell not you know?” “mhm! i like it a lot, it suits you.” you said back, nudging his shoulder with your knuckle.

he grins and mumbles a quick “thanks”. he then looks back up at you and says “wanna sit and chat for awhile? catch up on all the times we missed?” you nod, motioning for him to sit at the opposite side of where your drink is, and he sat, you following his actions and sitting down as well. you grabbed your glass of whiskey and took a long sip of it, leaving only a small amount left in the bottom of the cup. jimmy’s eyes followed your hand as you set it back on the table, then his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“is everything alright? i haven’t seen you drink like that in, well, i’ve never seen you drink like that.” you sighed, drawing your finger around the rim of the cup gently. “if i’m being honest, no. a year after we, y’know, stopped talking, i found a guy and we got along quite well and started dating.” you noticed jimmy’s hand clenched into a fist, so you continued.

“everything was fine between us, until recently. he started going after other girls, even with me around him. he even asked me on a date just so i would stay, because i told him that if he doesn’t get his shit together then i’m just going to leave. we were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but of course he didn’t show up even when he’s the one who wanted me to go with him and not the other way around. so i went back to our former shared house and found him fucking some random chick that i’ve seen him flirt with before.” you stared at your drink, before grabbing it and finishing it off. as soon as you set the glass back, jimmy’s hand softly reached for yours and held it, caressing his thumb over your knuckles.

you rose your eyes up to meet jimmy’s, his eyes holding a soft, caring look, the same look that you’ve longed to see for many years. “it’s fine though, really. it’s not like i really loved him anyway..” you lied, thinking of when you first met chris, how happy he made you. but you realized that a certain someone, perhaps the someone sitting across from you, had made you happier than chris could’ve.

“(y/n) love, your lying eyes really give away that you did love him at one point, and it’ll take a while to try and un-love him, trust me.” a soft hand came in contact with your cheek, gently wiping a stray tear away that you didn’t notice had fallen. looking back up at jimmy, you smiled at him and brought your hand that wasn’t occupied and rested it against his. “i know jimmy, but i think i’ve already moved on from that asshole.”

his eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope, and he softly nodded, a small smile painting his face. he paused, then cautiously asked; “i know we’ve only talked for a few minutes, and you can refuse this offer, but how about we ditch this bar and go somewhere else?” you brought jimmy’s hand down to rest on the table, holding them both with your warm hands and nodded. “yeah, i’d like that.” he stood up from the seat, pulling you up with him.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

tag list: @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @asetcrowley @reincarnated70sbaby @thebeatlesuniverse @princesspagey @jonesyjonesyjonesy

[sternbilder]

Gyu-hyuk's Epilogue 3 (Re-translated)

#Buried Stars spoilers

OMG okay, I feel like I need to expand on this, because YES, it does;

So the line you're referring to is the one where Gyu-hyuk tells Do-yoon, "딛고 일어서," which, to break it down: 딛다 means to overcome or get over something, and 일어서다 means to stand up. Grammatically speaking, this is in the imperative mood, so in a very literal sense, "get over it" is...technically...an accurate translation.

However.

In the context of the scene, I think this is misleading. In the official translation, Gyu-hyuk sounds weirdly cold and dismissive, but imo he doesn't actually come off that way in the original text? I read the "Get over it" line as more like...Encouraging? Motivational? Than dismissive, personally. It's clear to me that he's comforting Do-yoon, and I was honestly surprised at the tone whiplash in the translation.

Don't get me wrong, this scene is unsettling. It feels "off" somehow. But it's not because Gyu-hyuk is being dismissive of Do-yoon's feelings when Do-yoon is clearly still incredibly traumatized, but rather:

Because Gyu-hyuk himself seems relatively unfazed, in stark contrast to Do-yoon (Not to mention the strong Dutch angle on that CG. Come On. It just adds to the subtle creepiness of Gyu-hyuk's weirdly serene smile?)

Because one of Gyu-hyuk's biggest flaws is his tendency toward codependency, and of course

Because Gyu-hyuk is the one responsible for the murders, which is like. A pretty big part of Do-yoon's trauma.

At the time that you get this epilogue for the first time, it's likely that you haven't actually seen the true ending yet. So unless you know what happens, it's easy to chalk (1) up to Gyu-hyuk's personality—or at least, the calm and level-headed front that he puts up. You have enough evidence to arrive at (2) by this point, but it's not until you learn (3), which obviously isn't revealed until the true ending, that you realize what a deeply broken person Gyu-hyuk really is.

Without some of this background, the scene honestly reads as, idk, a bit uncomfortably codependent maybe but also...Very Heavily Romantic, in a fucked up, vaguely problematic and unhealthy way? Incidentally, I was looking up a Korean let's play of this scene on Youtube so that I could transcribe it and the streamer I was watching also was straight up like, "Why does it feel like he's flirting with me" and "Oh this feels like a romance" so I know I'm not the only one thinking this LMAO.

TL;DR This epilogue doesn't feel "wrong" because Gyu-hyuk is being insensitive and selfish, but rather the opposite—if anything, his tone is excessively warm and sweet, almost bordering on smothering.

Anyway, because I really, really hate how this scene was translated, I'm going to take a crack at a fan translation that (hopefully) captures the effect of the original text a bit better? I've highlighted the lines that I think have the greatest diff:

Original Text

GH: 또 심각한 얼굴이네. 무슨 생각을 그렇게 해?

DY: 그냥 뭐… 이것저것. 형은 아직 여유가 좀 있나 봐? 맨날 문병 오는 거 보면.

GH: 여유 있긴, 너 보러 시간을 빼는 거지. ...오늘은 좀 어때?

한도윤은 창틀을 매만졌다.

DY: 복잡해. 사람들이… 그렇게 됐으니까.

GH: … 지금은, 너만 생각해.

어깨를 토닥이는 손길에 저도 모르게 움츠렸다.

GH: 아, 미안…

DY: 아냐. 내가 아직… 다 낫질 않아서.

GH: 얼마나 걸리든 푹 쉬어, 다 나을 때까지. 복잡한 머리도 풀릴 때까지. 내가 있잖아.

이규혁의 말에 고개를 들었다. 따스한 눈길이 한도윤을 바로 본다.

GH: 너, 나… 우리 두 사람은 살아남았어. 힘들면 기대. 내가… 언제든지 곁에 있을테니까. 도윤이 네가 구해준 덕분에 난 여기 있어. 언제까지라도 널 배신하지 않을 거야.

눈앞이 흐릿해지더니, 볼에 뜨거운 무언가가 흘러내렸다. 눈꺼풀 밑으로 스러져간 얼굴들이 아른거렸다.

GH: 괜찮아.

이규혁의 손이 다시 한번 어깨를 토닥였다.

GH: 서로 의지하면서 살아가자.

고개 숙인 한도윤이 이규혁의 팔을 붙잡았다. 바람이 흔들리는 창문 소리가 적막한 병실을 울렸다.

GH: 도윤아, 딛고 일어서. 내가 곁에 있을 거야.

다정한 목소리가 멀게만 들렸다.

Official Translation

GH: You look somber again. What’s on your mind this time?

DY: Just a few things… Aren’t you supposed to be busy? You visit me every day.

GH: Busy, but I always have time to drop by to see you. How are you feeling today?

Do-yoon touched the windowsill with his hand.

DY: Complicated, considering what happened to them…

GH: Focus on yourself for now.

He fidgeted as Gyu-hyuk patted him on the shoulder.

GH: I’m sorry…

DY: No, it’s just that… I’m still recovering.

GH: Just take as much time as you want until you’re fully recovered. And I hope you can stop worrying so much, too. I’ll stand by your side.

Do-yoon raised his head to listen to Gyu-hyuk. He was staring at Do-yoon with an affectionate eye.

GH: You and me, we’ve survived. Lean on me when things are rough. I’ll always be there for you… I’m standing here because you saved me. I’ll never betray you.

Do-yoon’s eyes blurred, and tears rolled down his cheeks. The faces of their departed friends glimmered under his eyes.

GH: I’m okay.

Gyu-hyuk patted Do-yoon on the shoulder again.

GH: We’ll watch each other’s backs.

Do-yoon lowered his head and grabbed Gyu-hyuk’s arm. The sound of the rattling window hit the walls of the still hospital room.

GH: Do-yoon, get over it. You have me.

His kind voice seemed so distant.

My Translation

GH: You have that somber look on your face again. What’s on your mind?

DY: Oh, you know… This and that. I guess your schedule must be pretty free still? You’ve been visiting me every day.

GH: I wish. I’m actually making time to come see you. How are you feeling today?

Do-yoon adjusted the windowsill a bit.

DY: It’s complicated. You know… considering what happened to them.

GH: …You should try to worry about yourself for now.

Do-yoon couldn’t help but flinch reflexively as Gyu-hyuk touched his shoulder.

GH: Oh, sorry…

DY: No, it’s OK. It’s… just that my injuries are still healing.

GH: Take as much time as you need and rest until you’re fully recovered. And until your anxieties quiet down a bit, too. You know I’m here for you.

Do-yoon lifted his head as he said this. Gyu-hyuk was watching him with his warm gaze.

GH: You and I… We’re survivors. Lean on me when things are tough. Because I’ll… always be by your side. The only reason I’m here today is because you saved me, Do-yoon. I’ll never betray you, no matter what.

Do-yoon’s vision blurred, and hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. The faces of the deceased wavered beneath his closed eyelids.

GH: It’s all right.

Gyu-hyuk patted him on his shoulder once again.

GH: We’ll have each other to depend on from now on.

Do-yoon lowered his head and grasped Gyu-hyuk’s arm. The sound of the wind rattling the windowpane echoed throughout the quiet hospital room.

GH: Do-yoon, you'll overcome this. I’ll be right here beside you.

His voice was kind, but it somehow sounded distant.

[marvelslut16]

I trust you

Prompt number: 31 “I trust you”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Part two to Trust me for once.

Rating: T

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions blood, violence, and death. A lil angst. 

A/N: I just want to write for Bucky for the rest of fictober, someone stop me please. I don’t know why I love this fic so much, but I do. Maybe it’s my lack of sleep messing with me lmao. I passed 500 followers and I can’t possibly begin to explain how much that means to me and how much I love each and every one of you! When I started my Tumblr last year to write some shitty self indulgent fanfics I never thought anyone would ever read them. I never imagined having 500 people following my shitty blog. 

In the week and a half since Hydra had captured you, Bucky has been spiraling. When he got to the quinjet and turned to look for you, his heart fell into the pit of his stomach when he couldn’t find you. Everything you had said to him in the warehouse started to make more sense, you phrashed things a specific way; ‘so long as it gets you out of here safely.’ He knew you weren’t coming, but he still made Steve keep the quinjet there and wait until it was almost too late and the team was under attack again.

Back at the compound Bucky spends all of his time in his room or down in the gym punching- and breaking- one of the many punching bags, throwing his knives at targets, and working on his shooting. He isn’t sleeping and he isn’t eating, he won’t even talk to Steve when the super soldier tries to get him to talk- whether it be about what happened in the warehouse or anything in general. 

Steve, Sam, and Tony are exhausting every resource they have to find you, Hydra had moved you to another location as soon as the quinjet was out of sight of the base. On the rare occasion Bucky isn’t in the gym or his room, he's hovering over the shoulders of the three men hoping he’ll see something they missed. He doesn’t, and only succeeds in annoying aforementioned men with his brooding stares and silence. 

Bucky has nightmares on a daily basis again, something that his time in Wakanda with Shuri and T’Challa had gotten rid of. The only difference this time is he doesn’t see himself. He sees everything he went through, all the tourture he endured and the innocent bloodshed, but instead of him you’re in his shoes. He watches you get your brain turned into mush in the damn chair. He watches you forgetting everyone- forgetting him- and then going after the Avengers because you don’t know any better. He can never wake up from the nightmares, he’s stuck in them until he watches you die or you kill him. 

Twelve days after you’re taken, Bucky's down in the gym, sitting on a chair because the memories of you in the warehouse are consuming him. You saying that he hates you and to just trust you for once are playing on repeat. How could you think he doesn't trust you?

“I trust you!” he screams into the empty gym, wishing he’d told you so in the warehouse, hurling the knife that was resting in his hand into the wall across from him. He goes to run his hands through his long strands of hair, forgetting he had cut most of it off, something you would refer to as pulling a Britney. He has no idea what that even means, but you say it everytime you or Nat impulsively cut your hair super short. Instead he pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to push the memories away. “I could never hate you.”

Steve enters the gym quietly, observing his best friend for a few minutes. He’s never seen him this bad before, not even when he was consumed by guilt when he realized all of the innocent lives that were lost by his hands. Steve was aware that Bucky has had feelings for you since he saw you, immediately becoming infatuated with your beauty. His feelings continued to grow when he learned your humor, sarcasm, intelligence, and saw your skill in battle. Steve knew Bucky was intimidated and nervous, not as skilled with the women like he was seventy years ago and that’s why he didn’t talk to you, but Steve never realized that Bucky cared this much. 

“Hey Buck,” Steve finally speaks, causing Bucky to stand up and pretend he wasn’t just having a breakdown. “We’ve got something.”

Bucky doesn’t verbally respond, instead he brushes past Steve and walks out of the gym. Steve quickly leads the way to the lab, filling Bucky in on the new development. Hydra is streaming a live feed of you chained to a chair right to every computer and television screen in the compound. When the two get to the lab, packed with the rest of the Avengers huddling around the same screen, Bucky see’s you for the first time in twelve days. The first time you aren’t a figment of his imagination. You’re bruised and bloody: split lip with dried blood on your chin; dried blood on your forehead from where you must have wiped the blood from the cut on your eyebrow so it didn’t drip into your eyes before you were chained to the chair; you’re left eye black, blue, and bruised; your skin has a yellow hue and your cheeks are hollow from malnutrition. 

Bucky wants to scream, he wants to put a fist through a wall, and he wants to kill whoever laid a hand on you. The Avengers watch quietly as he squeezes through the gaps in the group's huddle so he can be by the screen. By you. You aren’t staring at the camera, instead staring straight in front of you, where he imagines Hydra agents are standing. 

“You don’t want another Winter Soldier,” your voice is the exact opposite of your appearance, it’s still so strong and determined. “You want the Winter Soldier. You wanted us to intercept the messages and show up at the base, it was an ambush.” 

“Very good, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a man speaks off screen, he has a thick Russian accent, but Bucky doesn’t recognize it. “The only problem was that you seemed to figure it out that day, and ruined our plans.”

“Oops?” your sarcasm garners another slap, the ring on the man's hand causing a gash on your cheekbone. “It’s been what, over a week? How long are you gonna keep me?”

“Until Soldat switches places with you,” you let out a loud bark of a laugh that echoes off the walls in the small room. 

“Bucky, your Soldat, he won’t sacrifice himself for me,” you laugh at the man interrogating you.

“We learned of his affections for you-” you cut him off with another laugh. 

“You need to fire whoever told you that,” you can’t stop laughing at the absurdity that came out of the Hydra agents mouth. And you don’t care if he becomes angry and annoyed with you, you’re gonna get killed no matter what. Your eyes quickly flick to the camera set up on your left, the one the Hydra agents thought you hadn’t seen, before continuing knowing the Avengers had to be seeing all of this. “The only affection Bucky has for me is hatred. He hates me, there’s no way he’d switch places for little old me. You should have captured literally anyone else if you wanted him to be upset. He can’t stand me! We can’t even hold a simple conversation, and he always leaves the room when I’m in it. We were only paired up on this mission because of a fluke accident. Face it, you fucked up. I’m worthless to your Soldat.”

“That’s not true!” Bucky feels like he’s yelling it at the screen, but his protest is only a whisper. The rest of the team watches him with sad eyes, he’s looking at you so longingly. Trying to will you to understand how he feels about you through the screen. As if on cue, you glance at the camera again, giving it a sd smile, accepting your fate. A loud ping comes from one of the computers in the lab, but Bucky keeps eye contact with you, even though he knows you can’t see. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it until his flesh hand is pressed against the television.

“We’ve got a location!” Tony yells, already calling for his suit. 

“Then you’re worthless to me!” the hydra agent growls, stopping the team in their tracks who were on their way to change. 

“No,” Bucky pleads, when he hears the safety of a gun clicking off.  

“Any last words for your precious Avengers?” the man asks you, gesturing to the camera, he hadn’t noticed you’d already seen it. 

“I’d say tell my family I love them,” you’re openly talking to the camera now. “But I don’t have any. So thank you for being the family I never had, and the family I always wanted. I love every single one of you.”

A tear slips from your non swollen eye, a matching one rolling down Bucky’s cheek. The screen goes black, a gun goes off, and then the feed cuts completely. “No!” he screams, going to punch a hole in the television, but his fist goes right through due to it being Stark technology. 

“Where are you going?” Steve calls as Bucky heads to exit to the lab, no one else moving, too shocked to register everything that just happened. 

“Let’s go kill those bastards,” is his gruff response, heading towards the hanger with the Quinjet since he’s already dressed in his tactical gear from his time in the gym. 

Steve and Tony are the first ones dressed and ready to go, but the latter hangs back so Steve can talk to his best friend privately. Steve doesn’t say anything when he sits beside the brunette, he doesn’t know where to begin. 

“(Y/N) died thinking I hated her Stevie,” Bucky’s voice breaks. “I kept my distance cause I didn’t want to hurt her. And then I saw her with Sam and I was jealous so I started to ignore her more. I pushed her away because I was scared and jealous. And now she’ll never know that I love her.”

--

A shot rings through the small room you’re stuck in, the bullet lodging into the wall beside your head. You glance at the camera, finding the red light off. Your team, your family thinks you're dead. That was his damn plan, he knows they’ll come to avenge you. 

“Sit tight,” he smirks, the barrel of his gun coming into contact with your skull, effectively knocking you out. 

Your head is heavy and pounding in pain when you finally come to. Outside the door you can hear screams and guns going off at rapid speed. You cringe away from the sound when someone uses their body to break open the door to your room. The sound of familiar footsteps clomping towards you causes you to perk up, it’s Bucky. You can’t open your eyes or even move your head towards the sound to alert him that you’re okay, but you hear a whispered “thank god,” when he hears your steady heartbeat. From the crunching sound you can tell Bucky used his vibranium hand to crush the handcuffs keeping you attached to the chair. 

He picks you up bridal style, holding you close to his warm chest. You involuntarily cuddle into the warmth, causing Bucky to smile lovingly down at you. “I’ve got you now,” he whispers, hand caressing your cheek, careful not to put pressure on your many cuts. 

When you wake up again, you're in the familiar sterile medbay at the compound. A heavy weight is on your hand, looking over you notice it’s Bucky's hands clutching yours, his head tipped back on the seat he’s in.

“He hasn’t left your side,” Sam smirks at the scene from the doorway, holding a falcon stuffed animal. You playfully roll your eyes at the gift, but reach for it with your free hand. Bucky starts to stir, so Sam gives you a kiss on the forehead and heads for the door again. “Tinman’s whipped.”

The first thing you notice when you glance at Bucky again is his hair. He cut it all off when you were gone. As much as you loved his luscious locks and thought he was hot with them, he’s undeniably sexy with the short hairstyle. “You cut your hair,” Bucky immediately wakes up the rest of the way at your voice, ocean blue eyes staring into yours. “It looks good on you.”

“You could have died,” his voice exasperated. “And the first thing you mention is my hair. I’ve been worried sick, (Y/N)!”

“I was fine,” you roll your eyes, trying not to think of just how close to death you came. “I’m fine now.” 

“Next mission I get to call the shots,” he grumbles. “I’m not having the woman I love almost die for me again.”

“I love you too Buck,” you ignore the fact that he didn’t mean for you to hear his confession. “Why else would I be willing to die for you?”

He shoots out of his seat, eyes wide as he stares down at you. You push up to a sitting position, moving to the side of the bed, motioning for Bucky to lay beside you. He seems to debate with himself about whether he should or not, before finally laying down and gently pulling you into his arms. You crane your neck up to look into his eyes, he leans down and your lips meet timidly at first. It quickly turns into a slow loving kiss, the two of you wanting to prolong for as long as you can. You reach a hand up, caressing his face before slipping it through his now short locks.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​ @mrs-malfoy-always​