#thank you again for sending this my love !! <3

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses

☆word count: 1.1k

☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.

They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.

“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.

“What?” he lets out.

“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.

“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”

Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.

But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.

“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”

Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?

“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.

“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”

“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”

Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.

So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.

Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.

His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.

Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.

Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 

You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.

It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.

His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.

Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.

You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.

“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.

You are… Taehyung’s sister.

You’re Y/n.

His best friend’s little sister.

The one thing Jungkook can’t have.

It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 

“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.

And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.

Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.

You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.

“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.

Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.

“Yes, please!”

Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.

Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”

And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.

How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 

He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

☆☆☆☆☆

Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!

What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist: (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you)

@jjkluver7 | @lavender2ari | @srslythis-ismylife | @starlight-1010 | @mggv97

@cookysstuff | @02010802 | @kookieleshgo | @biaswreckersinc | @hera19

@ice | @nightapple | @jungkussyficrecs | @boyfriendtaekook | @montyfbaybee

@babystarcandyjk97 | @goldentea10 | @lovingkoalaface | @parapiop7 | @parking-lotnights

@junecat18 | @blr1004 | @buddybops | @kookssecret | @busandbby_jjk

@superchamchi88 | @goldenjeonkoo | @raraluvz | @lovelye79 | @boyswithjun

@skzthinker | @michellekosmos | @8balljk | @kooklovee | @kingofbodyrolls

@ll4l | @kissyfacekoo | @ggukiepie | @moon-gyi | @apples0-0

@jcrl99 | @iammeandmeisiam | @kookoo-kachoo | @marvelbun | @lalaren

@sugas-baby-girl | @glossminmin03 | @kocoreads | @carriereadsbooks | @aiiselle90210

@FeyOcean | @khuderutu | @stuti2904 | @ziya.exe | @shortnspicier

@wiseboojumtree | @bobagukks | @vrusha01 | @lilyy07 | @younhakim29

@screamertannie | @wisebouquetbarbarian | @pixiekook | @nanjeonlangakook | @jcnggukie

@ggukkieland | @phanniefoo | @jksctrl | @sp1derk0ok | @hyukal0ml

@mysjammy | @lesiacapouille | @shearttttttttt | @hobibbb | @mochifuzz

@kooksbunnnn | @moonchilddna | @libra04 | @vminkookgf | @jayrielle27

@tulips4u | @jinniejax | @chimmisbae | @sumzysworld | @imene_ghd

@gguksflowers | @sadgirlroo | @kissme-ornot | @mar-lo | @kazkookiekazookie

@infiresyg93 | @junggukjeonfreakinwife | @sweet-pinee | @chimchimmarie | @pamzn

[tomorobo-illust]

See hi-res version here: patreon.com/posts/103011424

Updating every Tuesday and Thursday Chapter 7: Epilogue of Lone Emmet and Cub AU !

// Previous Chapters //

Chapter 7: Epilogue  First {{ Prev { Page 9 } Next

Reminder that next week I will be off on my trip to the UK to visit my dear friend @freckledsaint! Comic update will be paused, but back again May. 9th, Thursday! In the meantime, I will have other things queued up in my absence ;D

Thank you everyone so much who have been enjoying the comic so far and leaving lovely comments and sending sweet messages and questions! I promise I will get to them all with a response <3 <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: double chapter friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 

You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 

As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  

“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 

He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 

As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 

“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 

You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 

You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 

Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 

His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 

If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 

You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 

“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 

The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 

“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 

“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 

“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 

He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 

“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 

“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 

You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 

A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 

You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 

“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 

You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 

“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 

“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 

“Right.” 

He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 

You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 

“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 

The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 

When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 

“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 

“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 

“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 

“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 

You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 

“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 

“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 

He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 

“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 

“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 

He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 

You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 

“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 

You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 

You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 

“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 

“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 

You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 

“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 

You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 

“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 

He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 

“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 

You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 

💜

When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 

Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 

“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 

“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 

“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  

You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 

“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 

“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  

“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 

“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 

You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 

“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 

“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 

“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 

“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 

“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 

“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 

“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 

“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 

He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 

Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 

[thinkingotherwise]

Requested by: @kwo22 can you do one with Sakura with a s/o who just compliments him randomly at times and he gets all blushy ykk? Love ur writing for windbreaker !!!!!! <3

There are so many blushy Sakura panels in the manga. I adore all of them.

Haruka Sakura x reader

Randomly complimenting him and using pickup lines.

Even before your relationship with Haruka, you knew he was so, so, so easy to fluster. His blushing face quickly became one of your favourite features in the man. You thought he didn't like it in the beginning always yelling and awkwardly telling you not to embarrass him. Surprisingly, he didn't mind when you complimented him, even seeking out your praises whenever the possibility for one arrived.

Everyone in Bofurin was aware, that when you were near your boyfriend his face would be red most of the time. You just knew what to do to make him this way. Were you bad for using it for your entertainment? Maybe. But he loved you either way so..

"Your hair and eyes have been always bi-colour and you will always be-mine." You said to him once, while you walked to school. "What?" He looked at you confused trying to understand what you meant. You sighed deeply before turning to him. "You know bi-colour, be-mine." You pointed first at his hair and then at you.

Another minute passed before his cheeks and ears burned red and he spluttered some things you couldn't understand turning away from you. You, however, laughed at his reaction and grabbed his hand before pulling him towards the school.

Haruka wasn't aware that it was the first of many pick-up lines you'd use on him just to get a reaction, you so loved.

The next one was when he'd just beat down some guys, while you were watching from the sidelines. You cheered him on throughout the fight and as the last guy fell down you bounced up to him. "Oh wow, that last punch was something." You complimented trying to imitate your boyfriend.

He puffed out his chest his face slightly pink from the fight and, mostly, the praise. The smile on your face turned to a smirk as you brought your finger to your lips humming in thought. "Is your dad a boxer?" You asked him your grin starting to show as you knew what you'd say next, while he wasn't aware what he got himself into. "What no! You know well enough that-" "Because you're a knockout!" You cut him off quickly sending a wink and finger guns in his direction.

He stared at you his face reddening but he was too stunned to speak. "Ah, you prefer knight in shining armour more, huh?" You teased him and instantly tried to evade the light slaps he sent into your arm to make you stop. He ran after you yelling for you to stop while you ran away laughing and arguing you would never, because you knew he secretly loved it.

Haruka knew your intentions pretty well when it came to these random compliments and pick-up lines. He thought that with time passing he would get used to them and they wouldn't have that kind of effect on him anymore. Oh how wrong he was.

Collecting Haruka from Bofurin you gave him some snacks you collected on your way. He thanked you but when he saw you looking left and right carefully, he followed your gaze before asking. "What is it?" "Be careful the police may be on to you." You whispered to him and he looked at you appalled. "Why? I didn't do shit." "For stealing my heart." You said swiftly kissing his cheek. His face was once again bright red and a frown appeared on his face.

He just couldn't believe that instead of him handling the situations like that better it was you who got better at acting and tricking him. "You're an idiot." He said munching on the chocolate you gave him, pretty much still flustered by you. "But I'm your idiot." Your words made him choke on the thing and you helped him before erupting into belly laughter. Haruka was still blushing no matter how many times you exposed him to your affectionate words. He finally came to realize that you just had that effect on him and he didn't mind it that much anymore.

Tags: @misticbullet

[formulalfc]

hi honey! i saw you're doing the lyric blurb thing again and i'm so grateful for that!!

can you please write "sometimes i wonder when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me?" lyric with jude bellingham? when i listen to this song i usually think about jude haha it fits him i think!

thank you so much!! I really love your writing, you're amazing!!💜

thank you so much for your sweet words my love :( they mean the world to me!!! sending you so much love and positivity <3

you and jude had met at a bar, giggling over cocktails as you watched both of your very drunk friends on the dancefloor. as you were dragging your friend out the door of the club, jude appeared and asked for your number, smiling like he had won the lottery when you said yes. for weeks after you two talk back and forth, face timing when you can both find time and promising to see each other soon. you'd hang up with a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, eyes shutting as you dreamed about him hoping that he was doing the same thing.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

[dominimoonbeam]

DOMINI!! HOW ARE YOU!!

may i ask for

oh, don't be cute.

wait, did you just say that i'm cute?

putting on lip gloss/balm before the kiss, having fun sharing different flavors

with david and darlin pleaseee?? thank youuu ♥️♥️♥️♥️

ZOZO!!!! Okay, this was great and soo much fun! Thank you!! I hope you like how it turned out. <3 <3 <3 You're amazing, thank you so much for the ask!!

David/Darlin

tags: first kiss, prompt fic, a little tipsy, idiots in love

Coconut.

The warehouse was trashed from the pack party but David couldn’t quite muster the energy to care. It was almost four in the morning. He should start sending them home… really he should have done that an hour ago. Several of the pack were already passed out on the couches or the floor. He knew they kept some bedding at the warehouse but he hadn’t realized it was quite this much. They’d basically built a nest.

Fuck it. They could sleep here. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about them all getting home safely. He closed his eyes, arms folded across his chest and body settling into the couch. He could make breakfast in the morning. That would be nice.

The couch bounced when someone plopped down next to him.

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was. He could feel their aura against his. Loyal, sharp, quick to anger, quick to run, brave, but so damn scared. His nose wrinkled, eyes still closed. “Why do you smell like coconut?”

He felt them shrug, their arm against his.

David opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Darlin. Their eyes were half-lidded. They’d been riding their buzz for the last hour or two. His gaze flicked to their mouth and the gloss on their lips.

“This was all Milo had,” they explained with another shrug.

David nodded, watching their lips move as they spoke. He was riding a buzz too. Their mouth was lush. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? He’d been crushing on this idiot for years but never really noticed those lips... They’d been flirting for months now. Asher didn’t think Darlin really thought they were flirting though. He was probably right.

David uncurled his arms and held out a hand, palm up, doing gimmie fingers.

Darlin grinned. “You want some?”

“Hn.” He wanted it.

Something mischievous lit their eyes and they tipped their chin up, offering their lips, eyes always on him, daring him to get some.

David smiled despite all efforts not to. “Oh, don’t be cute.” Don’t tempt me, he thought.

Darlin laughed and looked away, sinking back against the cushions next to him, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. “Wait. Did you just say that I’m cute?” They turned their head to look at him again, surprise hitting late.

David was looking back, their faces close. He saw the moment Darlin realized it and heard their pulse jump. Their gaze flicked down to his mouth. They didn’t pull away, but forced a sideways smile that made him think they were about to say something self-deprecating to cut the tension…

“No one would call me cute, Davey.”

Yep. He didn’t look away. “I did. Want me to call you more names?” he asked, deadpan and patient.

Their eyes widened a fraction and he could practically hear the battle in their mind, wanting to egg him on, wanting to know what he would say, but not wanting to risk it either. They nodded once. The whole warehouse was a hive of activity but it all faded.

“You bite hard, you’re brave, and your mouth is really pretty.”

Darlin’s eyes were as wide as he’d ever seen them and their smile was an explosion. “Fuck you, you did not just say my mouth was pretty!”

David ignored all of his own nerves and the heat climbing his face. He wasn’t going to look away from this. “I said really pretty.”

“You’re messing with me, Shaw.”

He finally smiled, because how could he not when they served it up like that? “I’ll mess with you if you want, any time… if you’re willing to share your chapstick.”

Darlin stared, practically gawked, seeming to realize again just how close they were sitting. “You’re drunk,” they said in way of explanation.

David just watched them, waiting. He was tipsy, sure, but he wasn’t drunk and they knew it. Their eyes flicked to his lips again. He wanted so much to close that distance but he couldn’t. He needed them to make that move.

His heart beat faster when the leaned in, his hands curling into fists against his own arms to keep from grabbing at them right away. They kissed him so softly, lips sticky with that coconut chapstick. For a split second after, he felt the flutter of uncertainty in them, not regret for kissing but fear that it was a joke at their expense and they’d fallen for it—that he didn’t feel the same—that he was just messing with them. It all vibrated there across those indescribable threads that connected them.

David reached across and curled a hand behind their neck, pulling them in again and this time kissing them deep enough to taste the pina colada on their tongue. The kiss was long and slow and when it broke he smiled. “So… You like coconut, huh?”

Darlin grinned back. “Don’t you?”

He nodded. He did now.

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 02. Whitney (Stuck & Watersports)

Pairing: Whitney / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,747 Warnings: watersports, piss, male squirting, creampie, exhibitionism, stuck trope Prompt(s): 08 — stuck + 17 — watersports Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: i think from now on i'll include the prompts in the title too just because thinking of titles is hard and this makes it easy to know the contents at a glance lmao. anyway. YAYYY ANOTHER WHITNEY PROMPT. i love my boy so much thank you for this blessing of being allowed to write for him <3

and i was so excited about this one specifically because YOU KNOW ME SO WELL BESTIE AHHH. thank you for allowing me to indulge in smth so nasty hehe <3

Despite showcasing time and time again his proclivity for cruelty, he's once again faced with the inevitable sight of your backside— God knows what your front is facing, probably just some dirt, but he can't find it within himself to care all too much when your ass shakes from side to side in your pathetic attempts to free yourself. Down on the ground where you belong, you're real cute, y'know that? Like a spell on him, he watches. He can almost convince himself that you meant to get caught, only because you look so pretty under him like this. His eyes narrow in on the way your skirt inches further up your waist with every accidental tug against the jagged fence holding you down, the little yelps you let out when metal scratches against your skin sends shivers down to his cock.

Of which is hard, unsurprisingly. The filthy degenerate he knows he is, of course he's hard when you're bent over and defenceless— it's how he likes you best. Just a dumb little girl looking for any excuse to get fucked, is that it?

"Need help?" He asks rhetorically, because it's rather clear that you do, in fact, need some help. All the wiggling around your doing is only helping you undress, and he's sure that's not what your main goal is. But far be it for him to complain when you're offering yourself up to him on a silver platter, intentionally or not. Like the pleasure-seeker he is, he leans into his more hedonistic ways and pinches at your thighs. Just because he can. Because he wants to hear you pout.

"Duh." You respond with another shake of your hips, a useless attempt to swat his prying hands away, and he immediately tuts at the attitude you've adopted.

His gaze zeros in on your ass, squatting down behind you only to flip your skirt up the rest of the way, sucking on his teeth sharply at the sight of your cute panties. Good girl, he thinks to himself. But he'd rather die than say his praise out loud. No, no, dumb sluts like you don't deserve praise for getting themselves in such obviously bad situations, do they?

He instinctively hooks a finger under your panties, knuckles brushing up against your pretty little slit before he pings the fabric back against your most sensitive parts. A sneaky smirk splayed on his lips when you yelp in return. "Is this helping?" He asks, unable to hide the smile in his words when he repeats the bullying action again, knowing that he's really only making your situation worse. Isn't that just so fun, though?

"Quit it! Whitneyyy—" You whine in annoyance, but his messed up mind easily recognises the high pitched tone as excitement. An undeniable thirst for more of his teasing, right? And you're in luck too, his cock twitching for attention in his pants; tenting in your direction. He'd only asked you to steal some cigarettes for him, and if you were determined enough to get free from the fence, he's sure you could in a heartbeat. Does that mean... You want him to tease you?

Surely, right? Slipping under the fence is easy enough, he's done it countless times before himself. Though, when cocking his head to the side to properly assess the situation, his palm coming down to lazily rub at his leaking tip over his clothes, he notices just how stuck you really are. How your clothes threaten to rip if you were to move too much in one direction, and he knows you haven't got enough money to replace another school shirt given that he ruined the last one. Filthy slut, this is your own fault.

"C'mon," He leers, shuffling to get his cock closer to you until it rubs against your ass all hot and heavy, a satisfied sigh escaping him when you gasp at the contact. You're so fucking hot it honestly annoys him, the way you're completely unaware of how inherently lewd your pretty little body is, beads of precum rolling down his length to stain his pants sheer. You'll have to clean them up later, preferably with your tongue. "I'll help ya out, but y'gotta pay up first."

It's clear what his intent is through how his rough hands find home on your hips, keeping himself stable from his squatting position just as much as he's trying to keep you pinned in place. A gentle rock of his hips forward against your clothed cunt and he's already reeling from how good it feels to be in control like this, nails digging into your soft skin as if he were mounting you like a dog.

"I— I mean, sure, fuck, whatever Whitney. Just help me before we get caught, okay?"

He muses about your usage of the word we, internally deciding that if anyone were to show up in the middle of his bullying, he'd simply act the fool to your thief ways. But nonetheless, he continues. He'd continue whether or not he had your consent, but it's easier when you're not fighting back.

Humping his cock against you always feels good, his attention drawn to the growing wet patch on your cute panties, and how his mouth salivates with a want to taste. He's not sure if it's from himself or your hole, but it's pretty to look at nonetheless. But he's meant to be a punishing you anyway, not indulging in his oral fixation. A reminder that he owns you, and that if you fuck up in his presence, you'll be swiftly reprimanded.

"So pretty," He hums to himself, a light heat rising to his cheeks at the recognition of his praise, biting down on his bottom lip out of embarrassment for a mere moment before correcting himself. "But so dumb." A laugh follows, crawled up his chest and forced out his dry throat.

He angles his cock down with his thumb, letting his hips rut against your hidden hole only a few times before impatience takes hold of him— and the fact that your hushed voice reminds him not to get caught. Not that it matters to him whether or not you get in trouble for stealing, it's just that he'd rather be the only one to see you so exposed and helpless like this. Possessively grabbing at your ass to spread your cheeks open, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull at the slight sight of your pretty holes.

Fuck it, he thinks. You rile him up so easily, and he hates himself for it. How the smallest glimpse of your asshole has his balls tightening, the mere thought of fucking your cute little cunt causes his muscles to tense in anticipation. So fucking annoying how just by existing you manage to coax him into further degeneracy, a little tempting wiggle of your ass being all he needs to quickly tug his bottoms down and shiver into the cold air that kisses his tip.

He better shove it in already to warm back up.

"Hurry up Whitney!" You whine, and the urgency in your meek voice causes a shiver to roll down his spine. "Are you trying to get us—"

Fuck, fucking shut up, a harsh pull of your panties later and he's shoving his cock inside of you with only his copious amount of precum and your meagre amount of slick for lube. The silent yelp he fucking knows you want to let out crawls under his skin, settles nice and thick in his tummy as he bullies his cock inside of you with quick snap thrusts. Only coating his length in as much lubrication as possible, a little pain is nice, but he isn't aiming to actually hurt you. Doesn't wanna damage his goods, yknow? So he continues the shallow thrusts until he can easily glide his cock all the way inside, balls deep in your pretty little hole with a soft pap!

But there's no time for him to allow you the chance at growing accustomed to his fat length, drawing his hips as far back as possible without actually pulling out, his drooling tip left inside your tight cunt for a single second before he buries himself back in, again and again, starting out with such an unfair pace that it even leaves himself breathless from how good it feels, how your walls squeeze around him that bit tighter given his rough treatment, rushed huffs of air filling his ears as he humps into you from behind.

"Tryin' to—" He chokes on his words, drooling precum all over your warm insides with every greedy thrust of his cock, in love with how you're unable to do anything but sit there and fucking take it, God, he could cum on the spot if he thought about it for too long. The view of your arched back, gaze flitting to the way your hands dig into the dirt below as if it'd give you any semblance of stability when he's pounding you so hard your ass smacks back against his hips. "Tryin' to get us caught?" He barks laughter down at you, though is quickly humbled when your walls squeeze around him again, cunt sucking his cock off so well, fuck, like you're begging for him to fuck deeper. And he's all to eager to give you exasctly what your body is asking for, throwing his weight behind every fuck forward and pulling your ass back down against his cock. "Maybe— Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Fuckin' slut."

It's as if he's talking about himself though, feet firmly planted at either side of your knees, his hands sliding down the small of your back to hold onto your waist securely, pumping his cock into you from the dog mating angle he knows you like. Such a nasty girl, aren't you? Need him to breed your little angel cunt? It's what she deserves, isn't it, for making him feel so heavenly.

His upper body follows every thrust, causing him to practically rest on top of you as much as he can, the metal from the fence digging into his skin with every loud smack of his hips against your ass, every wet squelch of your hole being forced to accept his fat cock.

But he can't deny how obviously into getting caught he is too, the thought alone causing his cock to tremble inside of you with excitement. Look at her, this is my slut, hear how pretty she sounds when moaning my name like that? Deep seated primal instinct rumbling in his core when you whine and gasp for more, taking his cock so well that he's forced into huffing above you like he's in heat or something. It's gross, really, just how much he needs everyone to know how good you are for him, and only him. Obsessed with how your pretty cunt stretches to fit hit size, how he can feel every gush of slick from your abused hole drip down to his balls, God, how badly he wants to suck at your skin right now too. Taste every inch of your slut body as some form of thanks for letting him mistreat you like this. And for the way you like it too, soaking his thighs with your sweet slick he's hungry for.

He's soooo fucking into you it's honestly a little embarrassing, hoping to hump his affection for you away by stroking your insides exactly how he knows you like, and the fact that he knows you like it a certain way both turns him on more and frustrates him to no end. He's your bully for God's sake. But you're just so pretty like this, a messy little bitch in heat for his fat cock, keening into the ground below when he fucks his annoyances out in you with faster thrusts and a tighter grip on your waist. Turning you into a squeaky toy with the croaked moans his cock fucks outta you.

"Mine" He rasps against his better judgement. "Tell me, say that you're mine—" He ends up begging, enamoured with how quickly you answer his request with wanton whines and broken sobs of his name. An unfamiliar feeling soon establishing in his tummy, all tight and taut, threatening to snap any second as he continues to fuck through it. It feels similar enough for him to have an idea of what might be coming next, but he's too busy fucking into your slutty hole to fully register the consequences until they happen. And he's so close too, balls full and heavy of seed for his favourite girl, you've taken his perversion so well, you deserve a nice treat in the form of his load, don't you?

But what comes out isn't what he'd expected, a curt "Fuckin' close—" is all the warning he's able to give you before he's burying himself as deep as possible into you and sitting still. Only for a second or two, expecting ropes to shoot into your tiny cunt like always, but streams of yellow soon spurt out of your hole as he's forced into instinctively bucking into you again, sloppy fucks in and out of your stupid wet cunt as he experiences squirting for the first time in his life. Which is mortifying considering it's you that's gotten him to the point of squirting, but fuck if he doesn't feel so good, better than anything else— because he's effectively pissing inside of you right now, and knowing that he's dirtying you in such a disgusting way only prompts him into fucking with more intent, engaging his core in an attempt to relieve himself some more inside of his favourite slut.

"What— Feels weird, Whit—" You mumble, and he can't help but laugh. Still humping his piss back into your hole, the feeling of it sloshing around his cock with every thrust convincing him to continue. How disgusting, right? Downright deplorable the way he's using you right now, marking up your insides with the scent of his piss before his seed. He can only imagine your reaction to such awful news as he settles into a faster pace once more, determined to give you a load now that he's done taking a leak: gross. So fucking gross it ends up hot in his fucked up brain.

"Jus' sit there and be pretty, slut." He orders you, "That's all y'gotta do." And he's happy when you comply immediately given the edge in his voice. It's just that he's genuinely still so close to cumming, especially after such a vile display of affection, he only needs a few more thrusts before—

There we go, fully sheathed inside your piss soaked cunt for him to empty his balls into like he'd originally intended to. The innately crude nature of mixing his seed with piss has him rolling his hips into you regardless of his want to remain still, gently massaging your cunt walls with lazy fucks while he milks himself empty as some twisted sort of reward for something you've yet to learn about.

And it doesn't take him long to recover, never does. Pulling out swiftly only to cringe at the loss of warmth, and the view of the nasty mix of fluids dripping down your stained thighs. He'd better get you out of sight from prying eyes soon, determined to be the only one allowed to see you look so sullied like this from now on.

"C'mere," He gently tugs on your waist with one hand, the other pulling the scratchy wire up and away from your body to help ease you out of your stuck position. "Y'paid me more than I could ever ask for."

"What do you mean—"

"Jus' trust me, okay slut?" He'll keep it a secret for now. Try to use his new favourite toilet in future when you're similarly unaware, relieve himself in the best way possible in private. So hot just thinking about it, fuck— he might need to fuck you again on the way home. He'll even let you cum for the way you've accidentally accepted his newfound kink, brushing you off when you're free in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

And to keep your eyes from drifting between your legs, he places a chaste, but sweet, kiss to your forehead. "Thanks." is all he says before turning away to hide the predictable blush spreading on his cheeks.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Thanks so much for doing all this, I love what you do for enjoyers of ttrpgs!!

What I'm looking for is epistolary or long-distance, asynchronous games for multiple players. I know you've done lists of 2-player games that people can play in their own time (writing letters or journal entries back and forth, stating your actions in a message then waiting for the other player, etc) but I was wondering if there were any I could play with 3 or more players with different timezones & schedules at once.

Genre and playstyle are flexible, we love trying new mechanics! I've struggled to find games to fit this myself, so I hope you can have a little more luck. You're awesome for taking these requests and finding so many different games for people!

THEME: Asynch & Epistolary for 3 or More.

Hello friend! First of all, I’m going to send you to my Epistolary (Part 3) post because that was specifically for 3 or more players, as well as my first epistolary post because there were a number there that could also be played with a number of people.

But don't worry, there's more!

Angels of the Railway Stations, by Speak the Sky.

There’s only so much you can do alone, but you’re not alone. There’s only so much that can be done with any one meeting, but life is more than one meeting. As you go through the stages of Arrival, Stopover, and Departure, take notes of everything in the form of a letter to be sent on with the train when it leaves the station. These letters should give your fellow angels more context to help the traveller in need along the way. They’re also your only way to communicate with your colleagues and comrades.

Angels of the Railway Stations is an epistolary game for 2+ players in which you play a liminal community of lonely angels. Help lonely travellers in a world undergoing a great upheaval, then write about what you see and do to pass it on to the next angel down the line.

All of the rules for this game can fit on one page, and require you to rely on other players to determine what each of your passengers need and help them get to where they need to go - on time. Angels of the Railway Station references a game called Black Engines, which does not actually exist, which means that many parts of this game will require your play group to fill in the blanks. That being said, I think Angels of the Railway Station has plenty of potential when it comes to telling emotional stories.

Intersecting Orbits, by Ell Schulman.

For as long as there have been Orbiters, there has been the Interference. Spikes in data that have no business being there, garbled words, ghosts in the machinery. Few people believe truly in the existence of the Interference as an entity.The Interference does not care what they believe.

The planet below is alive. There are deep oceans and high mountains and biomes we do not have names for. There are plants and animals that do not conform to systems we know.

There are people who look up at the stars and wonder who else is out there.There is so much to explore. 

Intersecting Orbits is a game for three players, two of whom play Orbiters sending messages back and forth and one of whom plays the Interference who intercepts those messages and removes words from them. 

Using a deck of cards, the two Orbiters will try to communicate to each-other about something that is going on. Meanwhile, the Interference uses 2d6 to determine how many words of the message they can remove. You can probably use this method either by sending letters to each-other, or by writing e-mails or sending texts, so I think this game is definitely flexible in terms of how quickly you want to send messages to each-other, and how long you want the game to run.

Chronicle, by a.fell.

The world is coming to an end. It has been foretold, and so it shall be. We cannot stop it; we only wait, and observe, and recall.

This is a game to create a chronicle of a world, and to find the world again in the last seconds of its life. The game is different depending on which path you choose to take.

You will not play together. You might not play at the same time, or in the same place. You might not even know each other before you play this game.

When you play The Chronicler, you will play alone, across time, across worlds. There is foretelling that an end is coming. You are here to ensure that your life, your people, and your world, survive. The Witnesses will find your artifacts an unknowable amount of time later. They will observe, they will wonder, they will remember their own lives, and they will know you. The world they know is empty, and soon they, too, will be gone. But they will carry these moments with them.

Chronicle uses a tarot deck (or something similar) as an oracle, and requires some form of map for the Chronicler to add to. The Chronicler will draw from this deck to create the events, artifacts and messages from this world. Most of the Chronicler’s work is done by the time the Witnesses come into play, who will travel across the map, pick up artifacts left behind by the Chronicler, and use their own oracle decks to recall personal memories. Eventually, a cataclysm will fall, and the game will end.

Leaving Cambridge, by Nora Katz.

You were together once, a lifetime ago, in a place called Cambridge. It was a place you held dear—a place that you called home, even if just for a moment. But something strange or sinister happened, and now you are all gone, dispersed across countries, continents, and maybe even worlds. There are stories untold and things unsaid. This is your chance to say them. 

“Leaving Cambridge” is an intimate, asynchronous storytelling game that takes place through letters exchanged between a group of people who have parted ways. Over the course of a real-life calendar year, a group of players write letters to each other, piecing together what happened to them, trying to reconcile their checkered pasts with their current realities. As the letters arrive, this group of people will come to understand each other, and themselves, with more clarity—and, most likely, more questions. 

Leaving Cambridge is a setting-agnostic game, so you can set it at any time period and any technology level, as long as it is possible that all of the players at some point went to Cambridge together.. What remains true is that you were once friends, but you have since grown apart. You will draw from a deck of cards, with red cards reflecting memories you share and black cards representing your emotions. Writing will happen over four seasons, with an inciting reason for you to get back in touch with each-other, and generative prompts that encourage your characters to reveal pieces of themselves the longer that they write.

I’d Also Recommend…

When I Lived Here, by a grumpy little critter.

[sequinsmile-x]

The Games We Play - Chapter 4

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well, here we are - the final chapter of the most insane fic idea I've had yet. Thanks for all the love on this silly little AU it really means the world.

Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world <3

-x-

Words: 3.6k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He grunts as the knife enters his chest again, the pain barely there, not matching up with what he thinks it should feel like. He looks up at George, at the crazed look in his eyes, and he knows this is it, that he’d got so close to surviving, so close to fulfilling his promise to Emily, and he’d fallen at the last hurdle.

Emily. 

He thinks of her smile, of the way she’d laugh just when he needed to hear it. He thinks of her beauty, not diminished by what she’d survived but enhanced, her endless strength making her impossibly more gorgeous. 

He had to make it back to her. 

He growls, an animalistic sound escaping him as he surges forward, taking George by surprise as he flips them, the knife scattering out of the other man's hand as he gets the advantage. He hits him, his fists aching and splitting open as he carries on, not stopping as he feels bones crack beneath his knuckles.

He carries on, all the anger he’d ever felt surging through him. Anger at his father. At himself. At the world he found himself living in. 

He only stops when he physically can’t do it anymore, his arms giving out from under him as he collapses off of George, who was eerily still, his eyes, one of the only recognisable parts of his face left, staring straight ahead.

Aaron collapses, his head swimming as blood loss catches up with him, his eyes drifting shut as he hears a canon crack in the air around him.

___

He sucks in a panicked breath, his eyes flying open as he looks around him, his body heavy as he tries and fails to sit up.

“Aaron.”

His head snaps to his left, his eyes wide and wild as he looks at Emily, a mix of relief and disbelief painted across her face, “Emily?”

“It’s okay,” she says, still in her seat, seemingly glued to it as she looks him over, her shoulders tight, “You’re okay. You’re in the private wing of the hospital,” she says, looking around them, “I shouldn’t even be here,” she flashes him a quick smile, “Dave can talk anyone into anything.” 

He nods, taking in his surroundings a little more now the panic has passed. Everything looked opulent, expensive in a way he never would have been able to imagine before he came to the Capitol. He looks past the open door to his room and sees the nurse sitting at a computer and typing, the clack of the keys clear even from where he is lying in his bed. 

“My hearing,” he says, placing his hand over his right ear, “It’s back. After the explosion with Kate…I could barely hear.”

“They restored it for you,” she explains, her smile tight as she sits up straighter in the chair next to his bed, “Nothing but the best for their victor.” 

He nods, blinking heavily a few times before shaking his head, trying to dispel the sleepiness that threatened to overtake him, “What else?” 

“You have a fair number of scars on your chest,” she says, her eyes fixed on his gown as if she could see his damaged skin through it, “And on your knuckles from where you…” she presses her lips together, the memory of the sound of George’s face giving way under his fists sending a shiver down her spine, “They can get rid of the scars too if you want to. Some people keep them.” 

“Did you keep yours?” 

His question takes her by surprise, and for a moment she forgot he didn’t know, that in all the nights they shared a bed he’d never seen her without her clothes on, had never seen the constellation of scar tissue that spread across her abdomen. Pink lines and creases that had faded to white, skin that was still numb to the touch and likely always would be. 

“Yes,” she says, subconsciously placing her hand over the scar through her shirt, “I kept it.” 

He stores the information away for later, not wanting to pry now, but he thinks he’ll make the same decision, not wanting to lose the evidence of what he’d survived. 

“What else happened?” He asks, and she frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she tilts her head and he smiles softly, “You looked like you saw a ghost when I woke up.” 

She wonders how she should feel about the fact he can read her so easily, that, despite everything, they’d seemingly picked back up right where they left off when she’d been reaped for her own games and her life had changed forever. She thinks she should hate it, but she doesn’t. She likes that he knows her like that, that he understands her. 

It had been so long since she’d felt known. 

“Your…” she clears her throat, her teeth clenched as she tries to breathe through the emotion threatening to overwhelm her, “Your heart stopped when they got you out,” her voice shakes a little, “You were dead for almost a minute until they brought you back.” 

He frowns and places his hand against his chest, his ribs aching, his entire body on fire from pain that the medication in his system barely dulled, “They brought me back?” 

She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she nods, “Yeah, they brought you back.” 

“Why?”

His question surprises her, makes her breath catch in her chest as she looks down at her hands, her torn up cuticles something she can focus on instead of him, “Because they need a winner,” she whispers, “None of this works if they don’t have a winner and George died in the arena. So you’re their winner.” 

He stares at her, his focus on the way she absolutely avoids looking at him. He can’t help but wonder how she felt when she was in his place. When she was laying in a bed, stitched back together after barely surviving the unthinkable, alone and wondering what came next. He feels selfishly grateful that he has her, that she can guide him through this next part. 

“So,” he says, offering her a half smile when she looks at him, “Looks like I’ll be able to take you on a date after all,” he jokes, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood, to feel anything other than despair for the first time since his brother’s name was called during the reaping. 

She scoffs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, Dave’s words from just a few days ago weighing heavily on her chest, “I wish it was that simple.” 

He frowns at her, lifting his hand from his bed and offering it out to her, grateful when she stands and takes it without any further prompting, as if she was magnetised to him, moving against her will, “What do you mean?” 

She isn’t sure how to put it into words. She wanted him, wanted whatever sense of happiness was possible in the reality they lived in, but she knew there would be a cost. She’d always known that, it’s why she’d cut him out of her life until he volunteered for his brother, fate intervening and putting them back firmly in each other's paths. She sighs as she sits on the edge of his bed, his warmth even with the small amount of distance between them intoxicating.

“There will be expectations of us,” she says, her chest hollowed out, aching and empty, ready for the heartbreak she can already feel, the heartbreak she’d endure for the rest of her life if it was what he chooses. She reaches out to push some of his hair out of his face, the strands longer than they usually would be, unkempt from his time in the arena, her fingers ghosting across his forehead. “If we do this. Our life won’t necessarily be our own.” 

He catches her hand as she pulls it away from his face, linking their fingers together and squeezing, desperate to keep her close, “What do you mean?”

She looks over her shoulder to make sure they are alone, to check the nurse who was assigned to him wasn’t in earshot. She’d learnt a long time ago that no one could be trusted, that even those who seemed to be her friends here would give away her secrets for free. The only person she did trust, other than Aaron, was Dave. He’d never lied to her, never been anything other than almost painfully honest, their shared burden of what they did year after year something that had bonded them in a way she’s sure she’d collapse without. She leans in and makes sure she talks quietly, her voice low so only he hears her. 

“We’ll get married,” she says, a smile flitting across her face at the treacherous hope that flashes in his eyes, something that even what he’d just been through couldn’t kill. She liked to think that would one day be the country’s downfall - the hope that existed between them all no matter what they had done to them. Hope that planted seeds and bloomed even in the darkest of circumstances, its flowers too bright and beautiful to be ignored, “And we won’t…there won’t be a lot of choice,” she says, hoping he’d understand, that he wouldn’t make her say it, “We would be expected to do our duty as victors.” 

It’s the desperate look in her eyes that makes it click for him. He thinks of their conversation on the train, the way they’d casually agreed children weren’t on the cards for either of them as they drank liquor he’s sure cost more than his parent’s house. It was a moment in time, something that had led him back to her, his volunteering for his brother a crossroads in his life that had changed everything. A decision that, in the grand scheme of things, hadn’t been that long ago but may as well have happened to a different person. 

“Oh,” he says, feeling her hand go slack in his, her expression tight as she starts to pull away, taking his silence and lack of a reaction as confirmation he would change his mind. He holds her hand even tighter, and feels her bones pop against each other, “Well, if there was anyone I’d want to do any of that with, it would be you.” 

She scoffs, disbelief catching on every rib as it forces its way out, “Aaron, it’s not that simple,” she says, looking down at their joint hands, his tanned skin from the artificial sun in the arena making hers look even paler than usual, “We’d have to have children. If we didn’t Barnes would punish us, our families.” 

“Em-”

She carries on as if he hasn’t spoken, as if she can’t hear him. All of the fears she’d pushed down for years finally burst to the surface, escaping from the box she’d hidden them in because he’d knocked it over, his love and kindness tearing her defences to pieces. 

“And as much as I always said I don’t want children, I’d love them. I’d love them so much and then having to send them off to the arena when they turn 12-” she’s cut off as he sits up, groaning at the pain that spreads through his chest, his entire body burning from the points where Foyet had stabbed him, “What are you doing? You’re hurt.” 

“I’m trying to hug you,” he says through gritted teeth as she lowers him back down to the bed, her hands firm on his shoulders as she raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief. He breathes through the pain for a moment and then rests his hands on her hips, “Em, I understand what you’re saying,” he says, encouraging her closer, her face close enough that he can feel her breath skipping across his skin, “I know it won’t be easy, but even if we had a kid tomorrow, 12 years is a long time. You never know what could happen.” 

She huffs out a laugh and presses her forehead against his, “You think the world is going to change enough between now and then to mean we’d be safe.” 

“I think you haven’t even kissed me yet,” he says, his hand on her back, his palm splayed so his fingers sneak under the hem of her shirt, smiling softly as she shivers as his heated skin touches hers, “Everything else will happen as it happens.” 

She thinks she should hate him for being so sure, for the hint of optimism she knew time would kill over the next few years, but she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she allows herself to feel the relief that she’d been holding off since she’d arrived at the hospital. It fills her lungs, her chest fully expanding for the first time since she’d last seen him before he went into the arena, and she shakes her head, pressing her forehead against his for a moment before she pulls back, her smile fond as their eyes meet. 

She leans in and presses her lips against his, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place, as if he’d rather be anywhere else even if he had the strength to move. It’s everything she’d ever imagined it to be and more as he pulls her closer, his hand insistent on her back as his other one finds its way into her hair, anchoring her to him. He tastes of the sugary medicinal drink she’d been made to have when she first woke up when she won the games, a boost she’d never known the name of, a hint of something she knew must just be him lingering underneath. 

He sighs contentedly as she sinks into him, her tongue running across the seam of his lips before he opens his mouth. He’d thought about this moment for so long that it didn’t feel real, almost too good to be true. For a moment he wonders if he really did die in the arena, if this was the last thing his subconscious was doing for him, a moment of heaven before he slipped into darkness. 

He knows it’s real the moment she pulls back, a concerned look on her face as he groans in pain, the two of them having got carried away as he pulls her tight to his chest, the pain reverberating throughout his body. 

“Sorry,” she says, her hand slipping from his cheek to his throat, the reassuring thump of his pulse against her skin calming her down. 

“Never apologise for kissing me,” he replies, encouraging her back in for another kiss, a quick thing stamped against her lips, “But we might have to wait a little while for our date.”

She smiles and nods, resting her forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe him in, “I should get going anyway. Let you rest.”

He shakes his head, “No, stay.”

“Aaron-”

“Please,” he says, wincing as he tries to shift in the bed, making room for her to slide in next to him, “I want you to stay.” 

She hesitates, not sure what people would say or think if they found her in his bed, but she realises she doesn’t care. For the first time in years, she doesn’t think about anyone other than herself and she nods, slipping off her shoes before she carefully slips into bed with him, her head on his shoulder as she snuggles into his side. A sense of peace she hadn’t felt since they’d last slept next to each other washes over her and she tilts her head to look up at him. 

“I love you,” she says, the words not seeming as heavy as they had on the rooftop the night before the games started. It was no longer something she’d only get to say to him once, no longer a rushed confession borne out of a misunderstanding. It was softer, impossibly more real.

Something she would say to him every day for the rest of her life. 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing the top of her head, tightening his hold on her the best he can with his injuries, “And I’ll spend the rest of my life doing that the best way that I can.” 

___

At first, she’s not sure what wakes her up.

She’d never slept well on the train, not from the very first time she’d boarded it. It was eerily quiet given the speed they were travelling and it left her feeling uneasy, a stillness to it all that felt unnatural. 

She rolls onto her back and groans, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she considers going to watch the sunrise in the back carriage, and then she hears a moan next to her, drawing her attention to Aaron as he sleeps fitfully. As he thrashes in the bed, his fists clenched at his sides, she knows what woke her up and she sighs sadly. She sits up and turns on the light, folding her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she watches him, waiting for him to wake up. 

The first night he’d been back from the hospital, the same day he’d had his interview with Gideon, she’d tried to wake him up. She’d put her hands on his face and tried to pull him out of it, her words soft and reassuring as she eased him back to her. He’d grabbed her wrist, his grip tight around it, as he woke up, leaving a bruise that hadn’t quite faded yet. He hadn’t forgiven himself, had refused to sleep next to her again until she promised she wouldn’t try to wake him up again, and she hated how he sometimes looked at her. 

As if she had something to be afraid of when she was with him. 

It feels like an age passes before he wakes up, his chest filling quickly with a breath that’s clearly painful as he sits up, his eyes wild as he yells, his fists clenched so tightly she’s sure he could break the skin on his palms. 

“Aaron,” she says quietly, not wanting to startle him. He looks at her so quickly it must pull at his neck, his eyes still wide as they meet hers. She knows that look, she’s seen it on her own face in the small hours of the night as she splashed water on herself in the bathroom after a nightmare. He was in the arena, his mind playing tricks on him even though he was now as safe as he ever would be. “You’re okay. It’s a dream. We’re on the train home.” 

“Emily?” 

She smiles and nods, shifting closer to him as the fog in his eyes starts to lift. She reaches out and places her hand on his cheek, her heart twisting in her chest as he leans into it, seeking out the affection she always had waiting for him. 

“It’s me. I’m right here,” she assures him, shifting closer again until she’s in his lap, something in her stomach easing when he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, “I’m right here.” 

He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he rests his forehead on her temple, taking the chance to breathe her in, to replace the blood he could still smell with the scent of her, “I’m sorry.” 

She pulls back and cups his cheek again, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

His eyes drift to her bruised wrist and guilt churns in his gut just like it had every day since he’d woken up to find his first wrapped tightly around it. He clenches his teeth and shakes his head, familiar anger he hadn’t been able to shift since the arena burning through him. 

“I don’t know how you can even look at me.” 

She frowns as he looks down, avoiding her eye contact. He barely lets go of her though, as if she was the only thing keeping him grounded, so she wraps her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” She asks, the moniker slipping free without her meaning it to, her focus on playing with the short hairs at the back of his head, providing comfort in any way she can. 

“I hurt you,” he says, his tone flat as he continues to stare at the wall, “I killed people, Em,” he finally pulls away to look at her, “I killed a guy with my bare hands.” 

“If you hadn’t, he would have killed you,” she reasons, an edge of desperation to her voice that she ignores, “And I’ve killed people too. It’s the only reason we’re both still here,” she smiles sadly, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Does that make it hard for you to look at me?” 

He shakes his head immediately, his eyebrows furrowing as if the mere idea was ridiculous, “Of course not,” he says emphatically, “Never.” 

“Then it’s not going to make it hard for me to look at you,” she says, making a point of reaching for his hand, of smoothing her fingers over the still healing cuts on his knuckles, “We survived,” she looks up at him, making eye contact as she kisses his hand, soothes away the damage both physical and mental, the scars she couldn’t see but knew were there, “We survived, and now we’ve got to try and live. As best as we can,” she kisses him, her lips firm against his, and she barely pulls back, her breath skipping across his face as she speaks, “Together.” 

He nods, pulling her closer, his grip on her fierce. She holds him back just as tightly, seeking comfort as easily as she gives it. 

“Together.” 

-x-

Me to me: you will not write a sequel…you will not write a sequel…

-x-

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[witch128chick]

i watched the toh pilot episode, here's my reaction

ooookay i so wasn't expecting what i just watched- I WANT MORE

(if you haven't watched it yet but want to do it without spoilers then don't open this)

alright alright i lost my shit actually

Amity stood up for Luz and the fact that she said this was the first time anyone had done that for her is just so sad...

and Luz gave her a drawing as a 'thank you' ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) she's so sweet

oh and also!!!! first bigger change is that Amity was an exchange student in the human realm! i wonder why her parents sent her there and if there's any angsty reason for that (cuz yk yeah i'm a sucker for angst esp if it's Amity related)

my first thought when i saw this frame: "if i could picture how my mind looks like this would be it"

girly just casually grabbed a key and travelled between realms- do most witches and demons have a portal key or is it exclusive??

Luz met Eda!!! also they teleported later- so cool (ง ◉ _ ◉)ง

i heard that the Owl House was meant to be a shop first and now we can see how it would've looked like!

awww Luz is so excited!!! i love her (˶˃⤙˂˶)

that ceiling looks so prettyyy

Luz i have to say it again and i will never stop saying it: i love you you're amazing pls never change

another bigger change!! Lilith is headmistress in the high school!!! and everyone's afraid of her- shes's a boss bitch and ik she's evil but i love her

girllll--- (ง ͠ಥ_ಥ)ง why are you like this???? you had no business being this mean-

she threw away Luz's drawing from earlier whyyyy (·•᷄∩•᷅ )

side note: the demon on the left is Boscha's pilot?? yk 3 eyes and everything...

i loved this scene! Lilith is so cool and everything! and i absolutely love the sibling mocking between them it's priceless-

and said mockery pissed Lilith off sm that she turned into a beast ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ does she have the curse in this version? is it really a curse or can Lilith turn into that thing whenever she wants to??

soooooooo omg- i can't Lilith got trapped... somewhere!!!! and her hand is chopped off now

i am soo curious about this like what happens to her after this??? where does she go? how does she get back? will she seek revenge??

oh uhm all i wanted to say regarding this frame is that guys- yes. relatable

Luz is literally this emoji 🧍🏼‍♀️just in a lying position

noooooo this was sooo sweet!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡

i love how it was Eda who screamed bc the drawing that Amity threw out the window hit her in the head-

Eda complimented Luz's drawing and omg it touched her sm (っ˃̣̣̥ -˂̣̣̥ς) she only felt accepted and understood by Eda i'm so sad rn

and the biggest plot twist happened

i am not okay

EDA'S WORKING FOR THE EC??????? since when? how? why???

i'm guessing Lilith is also working for the Emperor but like Edaaaaaaaaaaa

i can't get over this

i saw someone say smth about a betrayal and this scene but i wasn't expecting THIS

tho i'm pretty sure Eda wouldn't hand Luz over (but i do have some alternative ideas for how this could play out)

is Eda cursed here too? how would she get another key to send Luz back to the human realm? what happened to Lilith??? where's Camila? we saw Amity starting to change her mind about Luz but how different her arc would've been here from canon???

i am so fixated on this rn this will occupy my brain for a good few weeks i think

and i absolutely hate myself for wanting to write a fanfic for this- I HAVE TOO MANY PROJECTS AND IDEAS ALREADY!!

but guys pls if you see anyone writing a fic for this lmk!!!

so yea i'm crazy rn i loved this and will definitely watch it again

the lore, the questions...

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 13/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 14

Luci is the older sib among the Sins but he's the youngest among the Archangels.

I guess technically, he's the suffering middle child.

If y'all see a mention baby bro or little brother in the Prequel, pretend like you didn't see it ;laksldakl;

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

Perhaps Lucifer should've requested a 1 visitor per visit rule just like he should've expected that he's going to get tackled and suffocated in physical affection by the Sins and Charlie as soon as Belphegor opened the door.

Not that he doesn't like the hugs but he's just one tiny guy and he's pretty sure he's about to be buried alive under these giants.

Thank fuck for Belphegor for prying them off of him before he actually suffocated.

Belphegor: What did I say?! What did I just say?! What are you all? Children?!

A gasp and a coughing fit later, he finally calmed down enough to get his breathing steady. He thanks Alastor for the water, taking huge sips to fix his throat.

'Not to self: don't get buried alive. It's not a fun experience.'

He looks over at the now kneeling Charlie and Sins, head bowed as the Sin of Sloth relentlessly scolds them.

Belphegor: -powers in Hell and you can't follow one simple rule? May I remind you all what happens if I'm disobeyed while I'm treating someone?

All: Visiting rights will be stripped off.

Belphegor: That's right. And I am not above putting a ward on any of you to make it stay that way.

Never mess with Dr. Belphegor. As much as Lucifer is amused, he takes pity on his kids (his kids!) and speaks up to save them from the doctor's wrath.

Lucifer: I think they get it, Bel.

The kneeling demons cower as Belphegor sends them one last glare before huffing and went to typing something in her tablet again.

Beelzebub: Sorry for getting carried away, babe. We just got scared.

Asmodeus: Charlie's call really scared us. Did something happen in Heaven?

Satan: Tell me if that bastard Michael did this, I'll go to Heaven myself and beat his ass! In fact, I'm going over there right now. Open a portal.

Leviathan: Christ, Satan. Can you do one minute without thinking of doing something impulsive?

Satan: Don't say that name here! And fuck you! You're one to talk. Which one of us almost obliterated their ring in anger earlier, huh??

Lucifer: Wha- Levi??

Leviathan: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Mammon: Wait, is that why the elevator took so fuckin long to work? I thought I was gonna be stuck there foreva!

Charlie: At least you're all here now!

Charlie's wholesome sentiment made her aunts and uncles coo, wholeheartedly agreeing with her.

Lucifer: My duckie is right. Even though I said I was fine, you all still came for me. I'm starting to feel bad about making you all rush here every time I get hurt.

Satan: Don't you dare. No one is forcing us to be here.

Beelzebub: Right! Plus you always did the same for us.

He remembers those moments. When the rings formed and the Sins grew enough to move and handle them on their own, he was pretty lonely. Sure, he had Lilith, but children brought a different kind of joy with their company.

Plus, he loved indulging in others and all the children wanted was his attention, which he was always so happy to give.

The last person he would've thought to call him for help first was, believe it or not, Leviathan.

Levi had always presented himself as independent, acting like he's not as young as he was. Lucifer saw the aquatic demon's admiration for him, often mimicking how he talks, walks, and even dresses.

Lilith says it's envy (Because what else could it be, Luci? Isn't he the Sin of Envy?) but Lucifer knows better. He knows that Leviathan only looks at him in admiration. He looks at him like he hung the stars. Like Lucifer means something. Like he deserves to be looked at that way.

He doesn't but he's not going to tell young Leviathan that.

Anyway, Levi couldn't get the raging storms of Envy under control despite trying so hard. He was crying, begging Lucifer to believe that he did everything he could but nothing was working.

So he did what every good sibling/pseudo-father wouldo.

He drops everything and headed straight to Envy. In fact, he ran so fast he forgot to tell Lilith he was leaving.

Instead of fixing the situation himself, Lucifer chose that moment to teach Leviathan. He stayed in Envy until the other got it and not once did he berate Levi for not knowing something that wasn't even taught. It was his fault after all that Levi couldn't control it as he should've known that it doesn't come to everyone that easily.

The little scolding he got from Lilith when he came home super late was worth seeing a proud face on little Levi.

Lucifer: And I always will.

When it doesn't look like they're leaving him anytime soon, he figures he could just tell them now. He sat up a little straighter and internally braces himself for the expected uproar.

Lucifer: Heaven is on the verge of a civil war.

He winces. 'Way to rip off the bandaid, Lucifer.'

The room halted. They stared at him as they try to comprehend what he said just said. Then all at once, everyone bursts into screaming and panic, asking questions at him, at each other, at no one, at everyone. It was chaos and Lucifer can feel something rumble inside him. He figures Roo is enjoying all this unfold.

To be fair, he should've thought better than to say something like that out of the blue.

Lucifer: Sorry from dropping a bomb like that suddenly.

Satan: A bomb???

Mammon: Mate, that's a fuckin' nuclear one if I know one! The fuck you mean a war??

Lucifer: A civil war.

Charlie: What? How are we roped in it?? It's not because of the last extermination right?

Belphegor: You couldn't have told us this the moment you arrived?

Satan: Are we involved? Is that why Michael shot a freakin' laser through the sky??

Lucifer: No but-

Beelzebub: Oh god.

Lucifer: Guys, if you just-

Leviathan: Ozzie, how is our forces? Do you think we have enough manpower?

Lucifer: Guys-

Asmodeus: If it's only our fighting forces, then no. I'm sure a lot of demons would be willing to fight. Plus we have the firepower.

Lucifer: I-

Belphegor: Do we even know if angelic weapons would harm a higher ranked angel?

Oh for fucks-

Lucifer: Ê̵̡̟͔͉̱͓͓̪̝̫͙͇̞͛̓͐͒͒̎͒̋͘Ǹ̶̛͙̲̮͓͈̳̗̟̣̊̍͋́̇̀̋̐́̚̕͜O̷͇͔̒̇͋́͋́̓́͂́͆͋̅͘U̴̡̙̫͕̞̩͎̭̤̤͙̠̓̐̊̚͜G̵͖͇̘̘̩̟̗̠̬̐̈́͛́̾̈́̾̍́̈́̏͠͝H̶̢̬͉̯̞͇̯͈͙̜̬͚̟͙̊̈́͋͂̂̾̒̅̈́̆͊͗͂̚͝.̷̧͇͔͖̜̳̲̪̤͇̇͊͑̋͛̾̓͜͜

.

.

.

The room rattles from his voice. He stop his horns and halo from coming out. Lucifer can't see it but everyone else is staring at him in abject horror as his skin turned into a dark, glitchy mess.

He calms himself by taking in deep breathes until the fire in his mouth extinguishes.

Lucifer: Can I speak now?

[goldenempyrean]

Stubborn As Ever

〚 Notes - First Marina fic :D Hopefully you enjoy <3 I loved writing these two so if you've got any ideas, send em over! 〛

〚 Pairing- Maya Bishop x Carina DeLuca 〛

〚 Summary - Maya is sick at work, Carina comes to take her home. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1900 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Bishop.” A loud voice echoed through the bunks as a very annoyed looking Herrera looked down from the balcony, her on her hips, “Don’t you dare start an epidemic in this station.” 

Maya sniffled, titling her head to look up at her, “I’m fine Andy.” She grumbled, sniffling loudly before quickly wiping her nose on her sleeve. 

“You’re fooling nobody.” 

Herrera's expression softened as she descended the steps, concern etched across her features as she came face to face with the pale blonde, “You look sooo healthy Bishop, so very not sick.” The sarcasm was thick in her voice but her tone all sympathy. 

This was bound to happen eventually. It was Winter - prime cold and flu season. In fact they’d already dropped off two patients at Grey Sloan earlier after they’d presented dehydration and flu symptoms. 

Of course it was just an occupational hazard. Just another part of the job. And while most of the crew did have pretty good immune systems, eventually everyone gets sick somehow. This was Maya’s turn. 

“You have a fever estúpida.” Andy sighed, the back of her palm pressed against her best friend’s forehead, whistling through her teeth at the heat radiating from her, “God you’re as stubborn as ever.” Maya only groaned in reply, waving her hand dismissively but she could protest further, a sudden sneeze had her jolting forwards, catching both of them off guard. 

Herrera’s face twisted as she jumped back in surprise, “Oh Maya! Ew!” She shook her head, “I’m literally covered in your-  ugh, just, never mind. You’re going home, right now. You hear me?” 

Her voice held the ‘don’t you dare argue with me right now or I will make your life hell’ tone, one Maya didn’t have the strength or will to argue with right now. Instead, the blonde simply nodded, allowing Andy to pull her up as she walked her to the front desks. 

“Sit.” A tissue box was stolen from another desk and swiftly placed in front of Maya as she sat down in one of the swivelling chairs, “I’ll call Carina, alright? I doubt your wife will forgive me if I let you keel in the streets over while trying to stumble home.” 

Maya sniffled again, reaching for the tissue box and blowing her nose loudly. She winced at the sound, feeling utterly drained as she leaned back in the chair. Andy hovered nearby, worry etched on her face as she dialled Carina's number. 

It was picked up after only two rings, “Hello? Hi Carina, it’s Andy.��� Herrera began explaining the situation and that Maya definitely needed to be taken home. 

“Yeah, she’s here with me right now.” She looked down just in time to see Maya’s head bob down into a crumpled handful of tissues, sneezing twice in rapid succession, “Yup, thats her. Are you sure? Okay, thank you so much. That’s great. We’ll see you soon.” 

“She’s coming to pick you up.” The brunette smiled as she set the phone down back on the retriever. Maya simply nodded before muffling a deep cough into her arm, “You really don’t do things by half do you? Come here, let me check your actual temp’ please.” 

“I was fine earlier.” The firefighter groaned in response, slumping back in the chair. Andy rolled her eyes and reached down to grab the thermometer from the first aid kit they kept beneath the desk. “Vic’s already out, I need to be here.” Maya continued to mumble. 

“The difference is Vic actually told us she wasn’t feeling well when she felt this coming on and you had to sense to send her home. So, when did you feel this coming on, hm? Because I’m betting it’s been a few hours. Now, come on, turn this way for me.”  

She did so - reluctantly.  As she turned to the side, Andy slotted the thermometer into her ear and pressed down the button. It beeped once and they waited a few moments for the second beep. 

As the device beeped again, Andy glanced at the reading, her brows furrowing slightly. "Well, congratulations, Captain. You've officially joined the ranks of the feverish.” She let her hand move to gently rub her shoulder, “She’ll be here soon.” 

As Maya sat there, feeling increasingly miserable, she couldn't help but sneeze again, the force of it causing her to double over slightly. Andy frowned sympathetically, handing her another tissue before reassuringly patting her on the back. 

Just then, the sound of the door opening signalled Carina's arrival. She entered the room with concern etched on her face, quickly assessing Maya's condition. 

“Oh Mai, you look so ill.” Her was soft as she quickly came to the firefighter’s side, “How are you feeling amore mio?” 

Andy watched with a soft smile, watching as her best friend’s-tired eyes slowly grew more awake. She discreetly slipped away to go and gather Maya’s things, giving the two of them a moment of privacy. 

Maya managed a weak smile up at Carina, her eyes watery as she struggled through a chesty cough. "Not great," She admitted, voice strained as she spoke, “Sorry for making you come all the way here just to collect me.” 

“Shh, none of that.” Carina soothed her gently, reaching out to cup her cheeks, “Oh, bambina you are so hot.”  

She moved her hands to press her hand to her girlfriend’s forehead, sighing softly before pressing a gentle kiss to her fever flushed skin. 

“Her temperature’s 101.7.” Herrera chimed in as she came back from collecting Maya’s bags. 

“101.7? That’s…uh, around 38 and a half? Si?” Carina mumbled to herself, still trying to get used to converting to the imperial system. It was one of the many American things she still hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. 

“Poor girl, let’s get you home then bambina, hm?” The Italian purred, offering out her hand to help her girlfriend up from the chair she’d been slumped in, “There’s a nice bed waiting for you when we’re back.” 

“Mmh’bed does sound good right now.” Maya sniffled loudly as she gave into the temptation of climbing into bed and getting cuddles from her beyond amazing girlfriend.  

“You know protocol Bishop, you’re not back in here until at least 24 hours after that fever breaks.” Andy smiled as she held the door open for the two of them. Nodding in mutual understanding as Carina thanked her quietly. 

Luckily Carina hadn’t parked far away, only round the corner. The two of them walked together, Maya taking slow unsteady steps as she swayed before the doctor noticed and put her around her waist. As she did so, she didn’t miss the way Maya shivered as the cold, winter air nipped against her bare skin. “Come here sweetheart, that’s better.” She murmured, taking off her thick cardigan to pull it around her girlfriend’s shoulders instead. 

“It’s- I don’t need this Carina- It’s cold, you need to be warm too.” Maya began to protest but her pleads fell on dead ears. There wasn’t much point to them now anyway, they’d reached Carina’s car already. 

As she helped get Maya settled in the passenger seat, Maya couldn't suppress the itching in her sinuses and suddenly ducked down into her elbow with a series of harsh sneezes, each one followed by an apologetic sniffle. "Sorry, Car’. I promise I'm not doing this on purpose," She looked away, not wanting to make eye contact. Being sick was still something she’d yet to adapt to. Her father’s lessons were still as clear as they’d ever been about that. Eyes forward. Embrace the pain. 

The doctor looked over with sad eyes, pouting as the firefighter sniffled miserably into the sleeve of her borrowed clothes, “Salute bambina. I promise you don’t have to apologise for anything. You’re human, it’s only natural and you can’t control it.” Her voice was soft, but the teasing tone was unmissable as she nudged her lightly, “There’s tissues in the compartment, don’t get your germs on my favourite cardi’ please.” 

Maya raised an eyebrow fondly as she chuckled, well, to be honest it was more of the beginning of a laugh being immediately proceeded by a round of deep coughing. 

Carina murmured something worriedly in Italian as she glanced over at her wife, it was hard not to notice how tired and pale she still looked, despite the warmth of the cardigan wrapped around her shoulders. 

“We’ll get you home, okay?” She reached over to squeeze the blonde’s thigh, “Just sit tight bella.” 

It didn’t take long to reach home. Mainly because Carina had driven at slightly irresponsible speeds. Despite the short journey, it had been long enough for the firefighter’s eyes start to close on their own, her head bobbing forward as Carina pulled into their driveway. 

“Sleepy girl.” Carina murmured, her voice laced with tenderness, trying to rouse her from her drowsiness, “We’re home sweetheart.” 

Maya stirred slightly, blinking groggily as she looked around, momentarily disoriented before remembering where they were. "Home?” She mumbled; her voice thick with exhaustion. 

Carina smiled softly, unbuckling her seatbelt before leaning over to help Maya with hers. "That's right, let's get you inside where you can rest properly," she said, her tone soothing as she opened the car door. 

Maya nodded weakly, allowing Carina to assist her as she stepped out of the car, her legs feeling like jelly beneath her. She sniffled weakly against the brunette’s shoulder as she guided her inside. She murmured something intelligible before legs buckled under her that. Luckily, Carina had been ready, and she carefully scooped Maya into her arms, cradling her gently as she carried her bridal style towards their room. 

Reaching their bedroom, Carina gently laid Maya down on their bed, tucking her in with extra blankets to keep her warm. Maya curled up instinctively, seeking comfort in the softness of their shared sheets. 

"I'll make you some tea, amore," Carina said softly, pressing a tender kiss to Maya's forehead before heading to the kitchen. 

Minutes later, Carina returned with a tray holding a steaming mug of herbal tea and a bowl of soup. She placed it on the bedside table and sat beside Maya, gently stroking her hair. 

"Here, drink this. It'll help you feel better," Carina said, offering her the mug, rubbing her back soothingly as she drank the hot liquid, “That’s better, si?” 

She nodded, letting herself relax into the pillows, “Much.” Maya sniffled, rubbing her hand beneath her nose as it twitched. She just managed to set her cup aside before a sudden bout of sneezing overtook her, each one accompanied by a soft, sleepy sound. Carina chuckled softly, reaching for a tissue to gently dab at Maya's nose. 

“Bless you, amore," she murmured, reaching for a tissue to dab at Maya's nose tenderly, "Looks like someone's still feeling a bit under the weather." 

Maya sniffled, her eyes fluttering open briefly before she buried herself deeper into the warmth of the blankets. "Sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse with fatigue, "I can't pull myself together.” 

Carina's expression softened further as she continued to stroke Maya's hair soothingly, “You don’t need to pull anything, you just lay there and rest. Just rest now, bella, that’s all. I'll be right here if you need anything," Carina murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her warm forehead, before snuggling in beside her, wrapping a comforting arm around Maya’s front, “Thank you for letting me take you home bambina.” 

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[I tagged for every person that asked to be for "everyone" let me know if you'd like it removing!]

[wigglywormy]

3, 6, 8, 18, and 20? 💖

thank you for sending an ask!!! <3

3. What are some of your favorite tickling related stories, art, videos, or other posts on tumblr?

oh man i have so many lol. for art i love everything by @isoots, @ticklishfanart (LOVE their stuff omg) @tenetikles, @ppystkposts (i'm not familiar with the fandoms they draw for but i loveeee their art) @dokidoki-muffin @tickly-oni (this is my fav tickle art everrrr)

there's soooo many more good tickle artists here though i can't possibly tag them all!

as for stories, a few of my absolute favs are:

anything by @wreckingtickles @ticklishfiend has some great fics, i reread them a lot! i love childhood secret and the milkman(n$fw) by @sallage @otomiyaa has SO many good fics (small start is a fav and braceface is ultimate fav) shaved by @ticklishgemini is soooo good and of course @kusuguricafe I love all of your bnha fics!!!!! also: here's my tickling bookmarks on ao3 also which has a ton of good fics that aren't here on tumblr!

once again, there are sooooo many good tickle fics i've read i couldn't possibly link them all hahahha

6. What fictional character(s) would you love to see have a canonical tickle scene?

of course bakugou DUH i would die to see that, and deku too lol. pls put them in the tickle machine or give me a group tickle fight in bnha i'm begging pls lol. also i'd love to see a canon tickle scene with denji from chainsaw man.... he's so cute i love himmmm.

8. What is your favorite example of tickling in media?

omg i don't know..... i honestly don't watch a lot of things other than anime BUT i recently discovered the anime mahou shoujo ni akogarete and there is a FANTASTIC tickling scene. please watch it omg

18. Where would you say you are the most ticklish?

ahhhh probably my underarms, under my toes, my thighs, annnnd my back is super ticklish to light touches (like, almost too ticklish lol)

20. What is something you would like to try related to tickling?

i realllllly want to do a session focused solely on my feet, toes tied back, immobile, with every single tickle tool and technique used lol that's something i've wanted to try for a while, but maybe one dayyyyyy

send me tickle asks!

[harlowhockeystick]

i present to you, straight from the tortured poets department...poetic prompts written by the chairman herself.

⎯ send in any one of these poetic prompts, no more than two at a time please, and i will give you a gut wrenching, heart breaking, life giving, fresh air breathing blurb...just as the chairman intended.

sincerely, writer for the tortured poets department anthology specialist

fornight - "i love you, it's ruining my life"

the tortured poets department - "sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me"

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - "he was my best friend"

down bad - "fuck it, i was in love"

so long, london - "you'll find someone"

but daddy i love him - "me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy"

fresh out the slammer - "i will never lose my baby again"

florida!!! - "love left me like this and i don't want to exist"

guilty as sin? - "without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?"

who's afraid of little old me? - "so tell me everything is not about me"

i can fix him (no really i can) - "trust me, i can handle a dangerous man"

loml - "you said i'm the love of your life, about a million times"

i can do it with a broken heart - "you gotta fake it til you make it"

the smallest man who ever lived - "i don't miss what we had"

the alchemy - "he just comes running over to me"

clara bow - "you're the real thing"

the black dog - "i don't understand how you don't miss me"

imgonnagetyouback - "i can tell when someone wants me"

the albatross - "i'd visit in your dreams"

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - "if you want to break my cold heart, say you loved me"

how did it end? - "but i still don't know, how did it end?"

so high school - "you knew what you wanted, and boy you got her"

i hate it here - "i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine"

thanK you aIMee - "i can't forgive the way you made me feel"

i look in people's windows - "does it feel alright not to know me?"

the prophecy - "i'm so afraid i sealed my fate"

cassandra - "that's where i was when i lost it all"

peter - "i thought it was just goodbye for now"

the bolter - "oh, we must stop meeting like this"

robin - "you'll learn to bounce back"

the manuscript - "i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it"

p.s. you can find in my directory, the list roster of different men i'll write poems for. please refer to that only, if you would. here is the link <3 oh, and send your requests here. you may also request from my au list, which is found here. that's all for now. see you when it's time to write about heartbreaking princes and screaming from tall towers.

⎯ j

[originalartblog]

are the tinies more comfy w being affectionate w each other (than their normal sized selves) or do they just simply not notice when they're cuddling?

a bit of both? the first time on the couch just kind of happened because they were tiny and tired I still need to finish the continuation/conclusion of that but there is like. negative chances of them not being aware they're cuddling in the same bed when one of them is not even where he's supposed to be.

I've already said I don't really care whether skk get romantic or not, but here we are all about the longing for each other's presence. The tinies feel the same things but more, so like everything else the denial is harder to deal with. Because of that, they skipped a few steps and now they do all of their usual stuff but also they cuddle.

Meanwhile the big guys are stuck in their 14+ layers of denial and pride, so the tinies doing their thing in front of them is both chipping at those layers and so embarrassing, I don't think they see how the other one is acting as much as their own little guy is betraying them will you stop that what will they think???

[awakenthebeing]

I wanna have the crafted peppino toppin. I mean look at this little one! Looks just like you! Oh wait, hold up. (Gets the little guy dressed in pink) Now it looks just like you! :D

She loves the little creacher!!!!! Fambly!!!