#*clutch chest* bless video games

[fantasywoes]

Munday Meme Part 1    

@civara​ asked:  🦁 ; What is your current big obsession?

Ahhh so many... Zelda is always on my mind, but at the moment I’m still big on Fire Emblem Three Houses. Also Danganronpa. Ever since last year lmaooo. Also Skies of Arcadia cause I will love that game to I die, along with Baten Kaitos: Eternal Wings and the Lost Ocean. Those two games are so underrated and a big part of my childhood.

#civara #*clutch chest* bless video games #thanks for sending in!

[isa-loves-you]

Scaring The Boys | The Group Chat|

I am so sorry for not updating, i just don't do well with everyday stress as it is and then having three major holidays back-to-back added more stress, so I decided to take a break. I am also very sorry if I had made any grammar mistakes, the first time I write again is the time where y glasses are broken and I'm recovering from pink eye so sorry about that.

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

Isaac: Isaac is a tall man which is a blessing but also a curse. One day you went down into the kitchen to grab water, and you saw your boyfriend Isaac trying to find his two-day leftovers that everyone tells him not to eat.

Due to Isaacs stature and the way the kitchen is laid out you couldn't move around him to quickly grab the water; so, you waited until Isaac was done. Even though it took him a couple of minutes for him to find which container was his, Isaac slammed the refrigerator door, and was met by your eyes. Isaac only seeing a figure come from behind the door and not realizing who you actually were scared the living hell out of him.

He jumped almost three feet back and dropped his food so his hand could clutch his chest like an elderly woman grabbing her purls. You couldn't help but also scream when he yelled because you didn't expect this big of a reaction from him, but as soon as he realized who you were, and you both relaxed you let out a chuckle. Isaac didn't laugh because he was the one who was scared for his life and dropping his food in the process. You did buy him more food as a way of saying sorry even though you didn't scare him intentionally.

Nick: The boys were now into hour 8 of the last to leave the vc. Just like all the other videos Isaac had a wheel with numbers on it so everyone can receive a punishment/ task. It was Nick's turn and Isaac had a little trick up his sleeve for his friend.

A couple of weeks ago Nick was flaunting that he doesn't get scared easily, and Isaac kept that in mind for this very moment. As Isaac was explaining to Nick that he had to tell an embarrassing story as a punishment, what no one knew was that Isaac was texting you to sneak into Nick's room and to scare him. You were obviously on board for this and it was easier than you thought it would be since Nick leaves his door open and is too busy talking over everyone so he wouldn't hear you anyways.

You stood up quietly and quickly grabbed Nick's shoulders and shouted, causing Nick to turn quickly in his chair while yelling. The back of his chair hit your side when he tried to turn around and his chair went down, Nick is now on the floor while you and everyone is laughing. After you calmed down you helped Nick backup and into his chair while telling him that you're sorry, you also gave him some words of encouragement so he can win.

Yumi: You were in the living room scrolling on your phone because Yumi was streaming, and you don't want to be in the room while he works. You were getting hungry, and you knew that Blake could always eat so you decided on Taco Bell and ordered your own food. Blake always changes his order, so you went up to his room to see what he wanted.

You opened the door to him yelling at his monitor like normal, but you couldn't see what he was playing. You said his name multiple times and even shouted it, but he still couldn't hear you over himself, so walked up to him and tapped his shoulder so you could pay attention for a split second. Yumi playing a horror game was never good because he gets so immersed that he doesn't realize what's going on in the real world, which makes him have a big reaction when he all of a sudden feel someone tap at his shoulder. Yumi throws his head set forward and his hands back accidentally hitting your nose as a reaction from his jump scare.

You were now holding your nose trying not to cry “oh my god i am so sorry, I'm so sorry” Blake said over and over again while holding your head close to his chest feeling bad for what he just did. The pain in your nose goes away after a second and you finally straighten back up while Blake still has a hand on your back “what do you want from taco bell?”.

Tanner: Your boyfriend wasn't superstitious until he had some “hauntings' ' in the old group house, ever since then every bump in the night Tanner hears he thinks that there is a ghost. While tanner was streaming you got bored, so you decided to scare him for funsies.

You walked up to his door and opened it quietly, so he didn't hear you since he only had one side of his headphones on. You crawled on the floor slowly so chat didn't see you to warn him, you found a spot in between the dresser and bed where the blanket hangs down so no one can see you. Whenever tanner went quiet for a second you would whisper his name or giggle loud enough for him to hear you and to look scan his room for a person. As tanner went on a rant about ghosts and his “hauntings' ' you decided that it was time for your revel.

You sprung up from your hiding spot and wrapped your arms around Tanner and his chair. Tanner immediately started thrashing around trying to escape your arms. He broke out of your clutch and ran towards the hallway while you belly laughed on the floor, he looked back to see you laughing and realized that it was you the whole time. Tanner came back into the room and praised you for your prank on him and allowed you to sit on his stream for a while before he ended it.

Larry: Everyone who knows Larry knows that he has a horrible sleep schedule, you being his partner has to endure it head on. Larry would often stay up for a day and a half or two days only having small naps in the afternoon, he was trying to fix it, but it was hard. Larry usually has his five-minute naps whenever you guys sat down to watch something which was cute but got very annoying when you tried to watch something new with him.

One day while you two sat down to watch something he started dozing off, so you decided to scare him. Once you knew Larry would be fully asleep you brought your face very close to him making sure that they don't touch, you wanted a little while longer until he started to finally wake back up again. Larry opened his eyes a little before turning to where you were sitting, for two seconds Larry didn't realize that it was you who was very close to him, scaring him in the process. You chuckled to yourself a little but then saw how shocked Larry still was, you eased him back to reality by saying you're sorry and letting him lay his head into your lap.

He shortly went back to sleep with a smile on his face knowing that he got you to feel bad and to baby him even though he was okay with being scared. 

#isaacwhy #larry croft #softwilly x reader #tgc #the group chat #the group chat podcast #tooyumi #yumi #yumi tgc #yumi x reader #bigt x reader #big t

[asshymar]

Figment

Figment, Figment of my Imagination

I ring, and sing, tinge or hue of the dead

I spin my red head in my cozy bed

I said I said I'll get to it

Again, again,

The room spins, rinse the taste

Apply the toothpaste

And don't waste, yr space

Tidy up, hup ho

The show commences

The suspense is immense

But seriously, i rarely, barely, and scarcely

Embarrassedly, stand in

I miss the stars

My tiny heart scars

Northern light would free me

From this blight, tight my chest

I cannot rest, the best

Behest test of the holy crest

I spend my rending, unendingly

Candle flames as fan cuts air waves

Loaded video game saves

Unreal lights cast, color raves on

Flower, sun, & Rain,

Kill the past, Kill yr pain

Okay say what you mean pal

My mouth melded shut, knock’d flat

On my butt, cut the tape

Vape, crepe in Amsterdam, damn

The dutch interior is awfully inferior.

And no fever beaver, believer deceiver,

Receiver of this message, blessed is

The words like tiny buddhas

Who'da thunk it? Chunky

Monkey, it’s all a bit funky.

Hieroglyphics pictorial intelligence,

Expects correct verbal connects

From obscure texts with next to

No context, what’s next…

Ancient enchanted hex

My pictures are richer than

Cheesecake, never faked

Not once half baked, hey

Take a break-

Tonight for dinner, a nice juicy steak.

Large gaping eyes to summon

Among the few, monster spew

Gopher guts, crazy old nuts Hil

Who sputter and clutter, my rutter

Cuts thru grime, slime, and crime

Signant, newly acquired pigment

Ligament described in sublime

Form, hm… visual rhyme

To encase, the fragility of time

Since the beginning, there’s no winning

Grinning, i’m simmering, glimmering,

But shortly my heart halts

Bitter like hops and malts

Alternative, are representative

Attentive lectures performatively sure.

Dreaming of a golden shore

A take five breaks in my teeth

Crunchy, munchy, a bunch of candy

How dandy. You can barely stand me

I know, don't put on some show.

But what do you ever know,

To blow, slow, or escrow and hit

Below the belt, and spit on

Those you’ve writ judgments

Ill hold this grudge, ever since

Rain spills violently

Hell bentley spent quickly

Much too much gasoline,

Speckled frame gleans, with

A hue of red, and deadly sheen

Ween the spleen routine fixtures

Now picture this, split wrist

Writ trists of bliss hiss hiss

Snakes tongue rung the bell

“How could you tell?”

Technology could do little to dispel

The mythology, what hypocrisy

The hunger burns, churns in forums

Takes unholy forms, worms, squirms

Evil incarnate, gosh darn it

Necropolis apocalypse, in process of

The bosses, their losses, coin

Tosses- Heads, lead to new bets

New upsets, no rest.

Clutched deeply in my chest

What hope lies at the bitter

End of this burnt rope, it ties

Severed, leveled, in spite

Of petty things, like who is right?

Out of all the things people write

The wind pushes the technicolor

Kite, it might waver, but

Oh my, what a sight the

Ability of flight, its tight

Alright, it’s quite the fight

Unholy light, roly poly

Hides it face, solely,

Unformed, thru the earth

Wormed, and warmed,

You stole me, unalarmed

Storms formed, torn un born

Scorn of the earth-

Unasked for birth, what’s the worth

The ember that lies in the hearth

Eternally lit mirth

Scandals of vandals who mark

Walls not their own, lets light

One candle, to handle,

No dice, I’m wearing sandals

Words in terms, bitter salt sprinkled on fire burns

Take turns, my heart yearns, to at once, wrinkle

In spite my will continues to fight, holy light roly

Poly, I want to explain, my mind refrains, from

Doing so, yo-yo, train of thought goes, death throes

Patching together, sew phrasing, raising awareness

Life is a huge mess, my mind, how kind you thought

Of me, but can you really see the reality, oh moon beams

Seize, I believe, I receive the book, this outlook

Could cook, thoughts tender, come a while we’ll take

A bender, explore the splendor, you big spender

Render unto me, wind whistling thru the trees

And dirt speckling my freckled knee, heckled by bees

Free to wander, deepened the bond with her, spurs

Exotic furs, yours and mine, a better time, redder

I bet to confer, insure, alas it’s a cold and lonely life

Lass, don't sass, exacerbate, please elaborate, exonerate

“I need you to check the shipment of that crate” Great.

#poetry #poemsbyme #prose poem #my poems #poem #poem of the day #spilled poem #original poem

[realcube]

trying to be nice to their crush hcs

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you to 🍦anon for this cute request!

characters: tsukishima, kyōtani, sakusa & suna

content warning: swearing & sexual references 

kei tsukishima 

♡ this is all yamaguchi’s fault （︶^︶）

♡ he found out tsukki had a crush on you bc he mentioned you a lot in conversation so yamaguchi interrogated him for answers then lo and behold, the beanpole had a lil thing for you 

♡ you sit in front of tsukishima in homeroom while yamaguchi sits beside him so when you leaned back and asked him if you could borrow a pencil and he spat back a snarky remark about you being too irresponsible to care for your own pencils, yamaguchi hastily offered you one of his own before scolding tsukishima 

♡ he explained to his clueless friend that being nasty to people isn’t a good way to get them to like you 

♡ so perhaps he should be nicer :)

♡ honestly, tsukishima would’ve just looked yamaguchi straight in the eyes and went ‘no’, if it wasn’t for the fact you shot tadashi the sweetest smile anD PLAYFULLY BLEW HIM A KISS AFTER HE JUST GAVE YOU A DAMN PENCIL LIKE WTF 

♡ after that, he decided to give up his current personality and pick up a new one 

♡ jk jk 

♡ but he had to binge a whole bunch of those youtube psychology videos that are like ‘psychological tricks to make people like you’ and ‘THESE 5 MIND TRICKS WILL MAKE YOU THE MOST POPULAR PERSON *EVER*’!!

♡ spoiler alert: he wasn’t the most popular person but perhaps that was bc he only went to the effort of using those tricks on you 

♡ god bless him; he tries hard, he really does. (not his best, just hard)

♡ but you don’t have to be extremely observant to realise that he’s began acting different around you and of course, it confused you seeing tsukishima being nice

♡ what irritated you was how dismissive he was being of your questions though, as he was clearly trying to lead you to believe that you were crazy and he’s just always been a nice guy 

♡ but as soon as he figures out that he angered you, he’ll instantly switch back to him normal self - draining his mind of the hours of phycology studying he did last night to just pretend like it never happened 

♡ and if he’s feeling flirty, he might be extra mean to you （￣︶￣）

♡ also he makes a mental note to never take yamaguchi’s romance advice ever again 🙄

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you sighed, removing your hand from your bag after desperately rummaging through it in search of a pencil once again - deja vu. once you accepted that a pencil wasn’t going to materialise out of thin air, you peered over your shoulder and tapped the corner of yamaguchi’s desk, who wore a suspicious grin which you decided against questioning. 

“yamaguchi, do you think i could borrow a pencil again? sorry, this is the last time, i swear. i’ll be sure to get some on my way home after school tod--” 

yamaguchi dropped the line him and tsukishima had rehearsed many times beforehand, while clutching his pencilcase dear to his chest, “woah, (y/n). you’re so irresponsible. sorry, i can’t lend one of my pristine pencils to someone who is too forgetful to remember to buy some; what if you forget to return it to me?” 

tsukishima cringed at how forced it sounded but he couldn’t help but admire yamaguchi's dedication to his role. this allowed tsukishima to swoop in, pencil in hand, “here.” that wasn’t in the script but he panicked! okay, now, eye contact. 

you just sat there and stared at both of them with the most dumbfounded look plastered on your face. what just happened?  why were they both acting like they were in drama class?  and why are they both so bad at acting? they’re both passing performing arts for fucks’ sake!

kentarō kyōtani 

♡ sorry but i firmly believe kyōtani is the sorta guy to be extra mean to ppl he fancies smh

♡ the rest of them just act (somewhat) like themselves around their crush but kyōtani is himself2 (himself^2)

♡ like one time yahaba found you trembling in your locker bc you had gotten mud on mad dog’s white shoes so he chased you through the hallways of the school, threatening to trek mud on your forehead 

♡ yahaba took it upon himself to investigate as to why kyōtani was so rude to you and he got his answer as soon as he mentioned your name to mad dog and the boy’s face immediately flushed red 

♡ so after practise, yahaba schools mad dog on how to get chicks (⌐■_■)

♡ in short, his advice was ‘good guys get laid’ and for kyōtani’s understanding, ‘good’ and ‘kind’ were interchangeable 

♡ mad dog wasn’t completely oblivious to how he treated you and he was aware that he was far from ‘kind’

♡ although he usually doesn’t listen to people in general, yahaba seemed to know what he was talking about so he figured there was no harm in trying to be nice 

♡ but ngl, he just spent the rest of the day wondering...what is kind?

♡ after a few messages back and forth with yahaba, he figured that the best place to start was by apologising for - y’know - chasing you around the whole school 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“oi!” kyōtani bellowed through hallway, paying no mind to the students that cast him dirty looks as his sights were locked on you. standing unsuspecting by your locker, stuffing your textbooks into your bag until you heard his deep voice echo through the hall, to which you visibly perked up and began frantically looking around.

he marched towards you, hands in pockets and when you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, you were more than ready to drop all your shit and bolt away. but he didn’t let you as before you were able to take off on your heels, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him - then he noticed your hands raised in defence by your face and your head hung low.

his heart sank and his grip on your shoulder immediately softened, “i’m not gonna punch you, idiot.” he spat, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth, trying to appear angry in hopes you’d mistake his light blush for pure rage. 

“i just wanted to say that i felt bad for chasing you through the halls yesterday - you didn’t stand a chance so i guess it was a bit unfair.” he said, frowning as you replied with silence so the duty fell on him to fill it, “and i got the stain out, anyway so.” 

more silence. lovely.

suddenly, he puffed his cheeks out as his eyes snapped to meet yours and he roared, “ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING SAY SOMETHING OR ARE YOU TOO BRAINDE-”

“are you wearing eyeliner?” 

and that was the true story behind why you missed last period, because you and kyōtani had a 30 minute conversation about eyeliner and make-up, then he convinced you to skip the rest of class with him so he could buy you ramen as an apology gift.

so yeah, he figured that perhaps he should try being nice more often.

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he didn’t need someone to tell him to be nicer, he’s just predisposed to attempt to show kindness to someone he is fond of

♡ in his mind, showing kindness, respect and stripping himself of all his personality = the only way to be desirable 

♡ (ofc this takes place before he meets atsumu tho lol)

♡ so it’s not the realisation that’s the problem for him, it’s the execution 

♡ like how is he supposed to be nice without either sounding creepy or condescending? 

♡ *cut to sakusa practising in the bathroom mirror* ‘your hand looks- no-’ he scoffs, flicking cold water onto his face, ‘your hair looks cool- pretty- nice?’

♡ *camera pans to sakusa laying in bed, staring intently at the ceiling while imagining vivid and scarily detailed scenarios about ways he could mess up while talking to you* 

♡ *camera zooms in on sakusa’s face as he manifests a nicer version of himself*

♡ he might - depending on how insecure he is - watch one of those psychology videos or read a wikihow for help

♡ but other than that, he independently tries to alter his personality in order to gain your favour bc..true love ?

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you smiled as a basketball rolled up to your feet during gym class, followed by the sound of someone approaching you and upon raising your gaze, your eyes met sakusa’s unmistakable black ones. his face hovered only a few inches away from yours due to the fact you had both reached down to pick up the ball at the same time.

he quickly pulled himself away, tucking the basketball under his elbow as he adjusted his mask so it properly covered his face to ensure that you didn’t see the light blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. he then proceeded to blurt out what he had been rehearsing for the past few nights, “oh, thank you, (y/n). your hair looks lovely today, by the way.”

you giggled, holding your hands firmly by your side to avoid fidgeting and making it obvious that his sudden comment flustered you, “thanks, sakusa. and, if we’re handing out compliments today, i didn’t know you were good at any sport other than volleyball but you’re doing surprisingly well at basketball.” you joked, your lips slowly curling into a cocky smirk, “though, i don’t think you’d stand a chance against my team.” 

god, you’re such a tease. you make it so hard for him to be nice to you. so, of course, your comment returned his ability to utter almost every sarcastic comment that comes to mind - screw being likeable. “you think so?” he quirked a brow, tossing the ball onto your lap then pacing backwards, “go on, then.”

rintarō suna

♡ it was probably those tips on social media that told him he has to be nicer 

♡ and plus he saw terushima get all the chicks and he was just sitting there like ‘where are my bitches at? 🥺’

♡ anyway, all the guys on social media that had girls lining up outside their door always had one thing in common: misogyny  obnoxious personalities !!

♡ and his whole personality was a sacrifice suna was willing and ready to make for just a crumb of cooch  🤲

♡ though you weren’t exactly his crush yet, suna thought you were the best person to carry out this experiment with bc he heard through the grapevine that you had a crush on him so perhaps this would make you happy

♡ he didn’t prepare much beforehand though which he immediately regretted as soon as he approached you bc admittedly, his game plan of ‘be self-assured but friendly’ was a bit vague 

♡ so he basically just had to bullshit through a whole, awkward conversation with you while wearing a forced ‘bold’ smirk which, in reality, looked as though he had just seen tiddies for the first time 

♡ hardly self-assured or friendly 

♡ also, the fact you thought he was playing a prank on you must’ve drastically altered the results of his experiment 

♡ at one point he says something extremely stupid you’d just quit playing along and just blurt out ‘wtf is wrong with you today’

♡ to which he’d be like ‘ahaha, nuthin much bbg, how bout you?’

♡ THE EXPERIEMNT ISN’T OVER UNTIL HE SAYS IT’S OVER OKAy?!

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you rubbed your temples in order to soothe the throbbing headache suna gave you simply by existing. like yes, you had a crush on him 10 minutes ago - but that was before he came up to you and started acting like terushima on dodgy medication. “oh and your skin is glowing bab--”

“jesus christ, rintarō, shut up!” you cried, gripping the edge of your skirt to prevent your self from delivering a swift punch right to his stupid face. he’s seriously gotten on all your nerves at this point; firstly, by spamming your phone in the middle of the night asking for homework answers (accompanied by cursed memes) as he actually managed to wake you up. secondly, by acting so oblivious to the fact you clearly had a crush on him and now, this!

heat rose to his cheeks in embarrassment as his creepy smile instantly fell right back into his resting bitch face, “this isn’t working, is it?” 

“what’s not working?”

suna scoffed, rolling his eyes - his façade having evidently disappeared. “this.” he sighed, looking around as if someone was going to save him before his eyes finally settled on you and he was reminded of what he wanted in the first place, his sparkle was rekindled for just a moment which caused him to blurt out, “just fuck me already, i’m not asking for much.”

#sakusa imagines #kyotani x y/n #tsukishima x reader #sakusa headcanons #sakusa x y/n #haikyuu!! x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu!! #suna rintaro x reader #tsukishima hcs #sakusa x reader #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima x you #sakusa x you #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna x reader #kyotani x reader #kyotani headcanons #haikyuu x reader

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Next to You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: angst/fluff.

a/n: GIF requested by @captain-pikas-world​ . I haven't written much since my dad passed in December. This is my attempt to get back into it. Hope you enjoy.

The air is heavy, it always feels heavy to Bucky as he steps out into the world. Every time, his breath is slacked with nerves trapped at the tip of his tongue. He eases towards the crowd of people, everyone gathering near the lake. His eyes moves around to each face, his instinct is to look for Sam. His best friend now, the person who has pushed him further than he thought he could go. It would be a lie to say the pair had an easy start, it was rough but like the leaves underneath his boots – they were able to snap into something new. New pieces of who they are after Steve's departure, and Bucky was the first to admit, it works. Everything therapy and Sam has taught him, along with his own self reflection, has helped. In the mirror, each morning, he sees something new. A mixture of his old self and who is he now – he actually smiles now. Yet, he knows something has not entirely come back – the ease of being around a woman he adores.

His eyes finally land on Sam, but they only are on the man for a few seconds before making there way to you. Where you are standing next to his friend, the two of you facing the lake. Bucky's heart starts to race as he forces himself to move forward, feeling ridiculous that one single person was making him stumble over his steps. Of all the things he has gone through, this was what was going to give him a heart attack. Muttering to himself that he was being stupid, he reaches Sam's side with a slight smile.

“Sorry I'm late,” he apologies and you turn to him. His throat clenches as you smile and point out to the lake.

“Sam was thinking we could charter a boat for the day, what do you think? Was Steve a fishing type?”

Right,  Bucky thought to himself. The day was about celebrating the one common factor in your friendship – Steve Rogers.

“We went fishing a few times, but neither of us were exactly fishermen.”

“Or men,” Sam snorts and you laugh.

“Ah, well, it's the thought that counts, right?”

Bucky grins finally, eyes entirely on you. He nods lightly. “Yeah, that's all that counts.”

Sam's facial expression changes and suddenly he's declaring that he was going to go see about a boat near the dock station. You wave him off and ask Bucky to help with the poles and supplies from the car. The two of you walk in silence through the crowd, it was a national holiday so the lake was a little crowded.

“Maybe we should have come a different day,” you sigh, unlocking your car. Bucky agrees, but opens the trunk and gives you a small nudge.

“Your idea is great, it's going to be great.”

His reassurances turns your stomach warm, the sun bearing down on your skin as he hands over the poles. “Take these and I'll get the rest.”

Effortlessly, Bucky gathers all the supplies for the boat, including an oversize ice chest and asks you if you were ready. You feel anxious as he walks at your side, wondering out loud if Sam was able to secure a boat for the day. There is a handful of boats already out on the lake, so the prospects were looking bad as the two of you caught up to Sam. Yet, he is all smiles, tossing up keys in the air, catching them with a smirk.

“Great, he's going to gloat all day about this.”

“Maybe being on a boat with the two of you was a bad idea,” you tease.

Bucky laughs. “Too late now.”

“I'm steering,” Sam declares, although neither Bucky or you even knew how. “I'm Captain on and off land, so let's go.”

The boat is nice, large enough for a handful of people. It only takes about twenty minutes to leave the dock, after getting settled and making sure everything was accounted for. Sam takes to the wheel and whistles when the engine comes on, Bucky rolls his eyes but the smile on his face is clear as the day. You sit across from him as Sam takes the boat out into the middle of the lake. Bucky catches your eyes several times, always looking down at his lap with a bashful expression. You try to not overthink his looks and just enjoy the ride of it all. When Sam is finally satisfied with the perfect spot, the three of you gather in the middle of the boat with drinks in hand.

“To Steve, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have either of you in my life,” Sam proposes, nodding his head to Bucky and you. “Now whether that is a good or bad thing is up for interpretation.”

“Jackass,” Bucky mutters, but you laugh, like you always do. It's a simple, telling laugh that clutches Bucky by the heart each time he hears it. A laugh that eases him in any situation, a laugh he misses at night when he is alone in his apartment.

“To Steve,” you declare, holding up your beer. The two men follow suit and you allow Sam one sip before taking it away. He obliges and lets you, finishing it off. The men applaud you, even though you apologize for the small burp that comes out of your mouth.

“It's fine,” Bucky smiles, taking the empty can from you. “It's kind of cute.”

Sam's eyes widen and he claps his hands together. “I'm going to check on the wheel real quick, make sure everything is good. Then we eat, I made some bomb ass sandwiches.”

Bucky tries to ignore the wink Sam gives him before making himself scarce. He's almost too afraid to glance your way as you sit back down. He manages to take his seat, quickly stealing a look at you. His heart races as your eyes stare back, his face tightens.

“I miss him,” you whisper and Bucky immediately understands.

“Yeah, I miss the punk too.”

Looking down at the beer can in your hand, you sigh. “He really just went and made a life for himself. You knew, didn't you? Sam didn't. I didn't.”

Bucky's eyes move down to his lap, his throat warm as he nods. “He told me his plan and who was I to stop him? I couldn't do that to him. Sam and you, you were his closes friends – he...he didn't want to hurt you two.”

“I understand, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn't you go back?”

Everything seems to go quiet as the question touches Bucky's ears. This was a question no one ever thought to ask. A question he has asked himself plenty of times until he was finally able to gather an answer – an answer he never had a reason to say out loud. He opens his mouth, but his chance is interrupted by Sam's reappearance.

“Whose hungry?”

The food is delicious, the three of you sit around and eat for the next hour. The air is fresh as each of you take turns telling a Steve story, the boat is flooded with laughter as the tales are told. Bucky takes to recalling old days, Sam brings up the time Steve took him to a ball game, and you mention all the failed attempts at getting Steve a date. The afternoon slowly turns into a soft evening as fireworks light up the lake. The screams of delight fill the air as Sam, Bucky, and you stand side by side. The boat rocks gently, causes you to stumble into Bucky. He grins and takes a hold of your shoulder with his hand, as Sam claps and hollers at the light show. He is not paying attention to his friends, instead he's taking video on his cell for Sarah and his nephews.

“Are you okay?”

“Metaphorically or in the moment?”

Bucky's face softens and whispers, “In the moment.”

You ignore the booms of the fireworks surrounding the lake, instead focusing on the weight of his fingers on your shoulder. “I'm good, you?”

Slowly, his smile fades and he glances over to Sam. He is either to busy recording the show or is trying to be a good friend by pretending nothing is happening between his friends. Bucky looks back at you and sighs. “I have an answer to your question. I – I thought about this a lot. I want to tell you.”

Bucky's eyes seem vulnerable and it is something you do not take lightly. Having know him for years now, you always have made sure to take things at his pace. Your friendship was what you had always offered to Bucky, because that was what he needed after Steve left. Yet, love slowly crept its way into your heart a few years back. Sam was the only person aware, his encouraging words were always a blessed curse, because what if the feelings were not mutual?

Losing Bucky, after losing Steve, would only hurt more.

“Tell me,” you whisper back, heart racing.

He looks up at the sky, for encouragement before laying his eyes on you. “Steve, he had something to go back to. At the end of the day, he was still that boy from Brooklyn. I wasn't, I wasn't the same, after everything, going back – going back would have been torture. I had to settle things here and going back would have been running away. That's why I couldn't go with him.”

You stare at him as his hand slips from your shoulder, but before it could reach his side, you take it. His hand is warm as you hold onto it tightly, struggling to get the words out. Holding onto his hand as the fireworks explode into the sky, the colors reflecting in Bucky's eyes. It was obscene, the look in his eyes as you felt his thumb across your skin. It was a look of something more than lust, it was fate.

“You've atoned, Bucky. You are a free man, this world belongs to you.”

His eyes close for a moment, heart racing as the feeling of something new bursts colors into his insides. All the atonement, the self reflection had gotten him here – on a boat with his best friend and the woman of his life. This, it felt, was what it was all  about.

The torture, the self hatred, the loneliness.  

Bucky was truly free now.

All that is left, the last thing on his list, is you.

Looking over to Sam, he chuckles when he realizes his friend has once again disappears. Grinning, Bucky squeezes your hand before gently pulling you towards him. Your hand falls on his chest and he reaches up to touch the side of your face. Your heart is racing, as his is. The two of you can not manage a single world, but as the fireworks illuminate the sky in a grand finale, he kisses you on the lips.

#bucky #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #ivonnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff

[lcksndkys]

Pairing: hobi x reader

Rating: SFW

Genre: dancer!hobi x bff reader

Word count: 1,474

A/N: This piece was written as part of the btsghostiewriters drabble marathon!! Dialogue prompt #3: “Do you take constructive criticism?” “I only take cash.” Enjoy and feel free to talk to me about it! I'd love to hear what you think!! As usual, s/o to my peoples @jinpanman and @wwilloww for the support and encouragement!! Also, the song is Permission by Ro James.

Summary:  Hoseok wants to audition for a position as an exotic dancer at The Pied Piper, a new strip club that provides entertainment for all. He wants your opinion of his routine. Except, you’ve been silently harboring a tiny (re: massive) crush on your friend. 

OR

You accidentally tell Hoseok you don’t find him sexy.

01, 02

"You wanna strip?" you ask, cocking a brow. 

“I need the job,” Hoseok explains. “I wanna buy Dynamite from Sejeong Hyung and run my own dance studio. Plus, it's not stripping, it's called exotic dancing.” 

“What about a loan?” you try to counter, ignoring the second part of his claim. 

“I wouldn’t even qualify for one big enough for Dynamite. This job will pay well enough to cover whatever expenses are left over after the loan” he continues.

The new strip club, The Pied Piper, provides entertainment for all and is currently hiring male exotic dancers. According to Hoseok, the type of dancing is sensual, but classy. He even pulled up a video advertisement to show you proof.

He sets his laptop on the ground in front of the two of you and presses play.

The characteristic beats of a familiar song ring through the air. Pony, how cliché. You watch the men on the screen gyrate their hips along to the beat of the greasy song, body-rolling around the stage in nothing but their fitted jeans. The physique of each man is eye catching to say the least.

The choreography is complex with each dancer making small stylistic adjustments so that they look in sync, but not matching entirely. Clearly, many of them are classically trained and/or professionals. 

Enraptured, you watch as their bodies move sensuously with the music. The clip shifts to one of the male dancers who pulls a woman on stage. A sparkling white and silver sash looped around her torso indicates she’s a blushing bride-to-be. She’s helped to a chair and approached by one of the dancers. Before the clip is over, Hoseok is closing his laptop and looking for your reaction.

“So, do you think I could do it?” he asks you eagerly.

You look into his hopeful eyes and your heart melts a little bit. He’s your Hoseok. Sweet, shy, sensitive, scared-of-everything Hoseok. You still remember how he cried when he was stung by a bee during dance camp in high school. How he has a 1.5 drink limit- half a drink better than when you both started college years ago. You try to imagine your friend dancing like the men you just watched on the screen.

“Well, those men- they’re really...” you struggle to find an appropriate term. You settle on “They’re really sexy” and then immediately regret your choice of words.

“You don’t think I’m sexy?” 

Looking at Hoseok’s crestfallen face, you rapidly launch into damage control. 

“I just mean- I’ve never seen you dance like that, Hobi”

There’s a few tense seconds of silence as Hoseok regards you before he slowly releases one long breath through his nose.

“I’ve been practicing,” he claims.

You swallow the lump in your throat at the dark look he’s suddenly giving you. It looks like danger. 

Hoseok digs a folding chair out of the dingy closet of your modest dance studio. He drags it across the floor, props it open, and gestures for you to have a seat.

Sitting on the cold metal folding chair, you cross your arms and legs. You affix the carefully crafted neutral mask over your face. Secretly, you’re proud of your ability to hide the secret crush that has been quietly brewing over the last year.

“Can I show you what I’ve been working on?” he asks.

You nod your consent.

“Good. I’d like your feedback” he smiles. 

You watch as Hoseok browses through his playlist and assume he’s looking for his audition song.

The sensuous music fills the little studio, echoing against the hard walls. The blank expression on your face hides the nervously pitter pattering of your heart. 

With your permission

Tonight I wanna be a little me on you

Your skin prickles with heat as you watch Hoseok start to dance slowly to the beat. Limbs fluid with practice and hip swaying, you’re mesmerized by his movements. 

He suddenly dives for the floor, twisting his body in a quarter turn mid-air, catching himself in a near handstand position before slowly lowering his chest, then pelvis to the floor. On hands and knees, his head swivels to make eye contact with you. He parts his legs, lowering his hips and thrusting against the ground making you gasp softly. Desire pools deep in your belly and for the first time in your life, you wish you were the flooring of this grimy, old studio.

Flipping over, Hoseok keeps his knees bent and plants his feet on the ground. Thighs spread wide, he bucks his hips up towards you. Your eyes follow the undulating of his hips as he pumps himself against the air.

Come on give me that green light

And you can let your hair hang down

But only if it feels right

You grit your teeth together to keep from panting.

He gracefully stands, adding a flourish to his movements, and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he approaches you.

At the last button, he sweeps open his top exposing the lithe planes of his chest and abdomen. Although not as muscular as the men in the video, his body is perfectly proportioned with well toned pecs and abs and delicate collarbones.

You gulp, hoping Hoseok hasn’t noticed how he’s affecting you. Watching him dance for you is alarmingly arousing.

There's a whole lot of motherfuckin' lovin' that's way past due

I owe you

With your permission

I'ma do all the things that I said I'm gon' do

Hands on your thighs, he uncrosses your legs then arms with a smirk. He straddles your lap and pulls your hands up to cup his ass. 

You feel heat lick its way up your neck and cheeks. 

This close up, you see every detail in Hoseok’s beautiful face. His perfectly sloped nose, the mole on his upper lip, every lash framing his usually warm eyes.  

Encouraging you to hold onto him, he grinds his hips against you to the beat of the song. With both hands clutching his tight gluts, you can’t help but feel every sensuous movement of his pelvis. Your mind drifts to his stroke game, sending another wave of arousal through your core. He brings one hand to your neck, long fingers wrapping around you to lock your eyes together. The other holds onto the backing of the chair he is currently defiling you against.

Satisfied with your gaze, you feel him bury his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull, scratching luxuriously against your scalp and you nearly moan out loud. Instead you bite the inside of your cheek and hold your composure.

Your hands start to wander up the planes of his back and sides, feeling the bumps and grooves of muscle and bone. 

Hoseok continues to fuck you against the chair until he draws a whimper from between your sealed lips.

He smiles in victory and buries his hand in your locks at the base of your skull and pulls. He noses along the column of exposed skin while he grinds against you making you shiver with need.

There's a tension, between us two

Red light special, girl you're special

You a blessing, so let me bless you

As the song winds down, Hoseok pulls back, eyes blackened with desire as he stares down at you. 

Like magnets, you are drawn towards each other. Hoseok presses his soft lips against yours in a tender, chaste kiss- a stark contrast to the dirty grinding of his body against yours. Hand still in your hair, he tips your head to the side sending his tongue out to lap against the seam of your lips. You part for him feeling the warm, wet muscle glide into your mouth and stealing the air from your lungs.

By the time he pulls back to study your reaction, you’re dazed and scrambling to find something coherent to say.

“Do you take constructive criticism?” you choke out, trying to sound casual.

“I only take cash” he quips back at you holding a hand out as if asking for a tip.

“Ok, well you probably shouldn’t kiss any of the patrons” you advise quietly thinking it was a planned part of his routine. 

Disappointed by your seemingly lackluster reaction to his kiss, Hoseok pulls back from you dropping his hand from your neck. 

“Is that all you have to say?” Hoseok grunts and climbs off you, no longer smiling.

“It’s just so cliché,” you try to explain.

“Yeah, well, so is falling for a friend” he throws back, hurt.

You gasp. 

“I never-” you panic.

“- I wasn’t talking about you” Hoseok effectively cuts you off.

You swear your heart stops for a second as you process Hoseok’s words. You’re speechless as he quickly packs up his belongings and takes one last look at your bewildered face before he leaves you sitting in the middle of the studio. 

#jung hoseok #hoseok fanfic #hobi fanfic #hoseok scenario #hobi scenario #dancer hoseok #dancer hobi #who would turn down a lapdace from hobi #not i #btsghostiemarathon

[devil-in-those-eyes]

Temper Part 2- Mat Barzal

Ah, here it is!! Only a few asked for the second part and I really struggled but this seems to be better. Hope you guys enjoyed!

Temper Part 1

~~

           Mat felt like an asshole. It wasn’t until he watched the video that he realized what made you pull away from him suddenly and he couldn’t get into the bar scene with his buddies because all he could think about was apologizing for how he acted, how he treated you. Only after watching the video did everything register too him, the look of pure shock mixing with hurt. The flush of embarrassment that filled your cheeks, how you glared right before you walked out. Now it all made sense, how you shied away from his touch when you always let his fingers linger. How you instantly declined going out with him and the boys, when a few days prior he finally got you to agree and let go of the professional relationship.

           Mat screwed up and he knew it, now he had to figure out how to get you to forgive him.

           You felt like you were blessed because you were able to avoid Mat for the next week as they only had one game and Matt Martin got the game winning goal and got into a tussle, so you got to interview him. When you walked out of the locker room, Mat couldn’t get away from his group of journalists to catch you. You could tell he tried to close up his interviews early, but he scored as well and no one was letting Mat Barzal go so easily.

           You thought you were in the clear and Mat would eventually get the picture to stop texting you once a day, asking to meet up for coffee, until your boss told you to go to the Casino Night with the Islanders, it’s theme? Black and White.

           You almost groaned, but figured there would be enough people there that Mat would be so preoccupied, he wouldn’t notice you being there.

           You weren’t wrong about there being a lot of people, all of the players were looking extra handsome in their tuxedos, sporting cleanly shaven faces, but you were wrong about one thing.

           Mat could spot you anywhere. It was like he had a freaking radar for you, his eyes skating up your bare back, barely covered by the thin straps that crisscrossed over your back. The dress came to shin length with a small slit to the top of your knee, it was form fitting with thin straps. It was modest but still sexy, showing some skin without being horribly unprofessional and was driving Mat fucking crazy.

           Mat felt you enter the room before he saw you, but he turned his eyes to see you walking slowly around the room. The second he saw your back, only covered by thin straps with the hemline dipping to the middle of your back, he felt like dying.

           “Please tell me that is not Y/N,” Tito whispered to him while you talked to Matt Martin’s wife with a smile on your face.

           “It is,” Mat gulped as you slowly turned, catching his eyes. You were quick to look away and Mat decided that you would talk to him before the night was over. You no longer had a say.

           “I’d go now before someone else starts flirting with her.” Tito warned as you headed towards the bar.

           Mat was gone within seconds. His heart was beating out of his chest as he followed your path, ignoring knowing looks from his teammates who had all chirped him this past week. Well, they had been chirping him about you since you started reporting on their team, but only now was he doing something worth their attention.

           His fingers grazed a space of bare skin, igniting a flurry of shivers up your back, and leaned in closer to your ear. “You look… breathtaking.”

           For a moment you tensed, his deep voice filling your ear and sending an obscene amount of butterflies free inside your stomach. Mat stepped so close to you that you felt the fabric of his suit jacket against your bicep, the warmth floating off of his body covered yours and got rib of the cold goosebumps that covered your body.

           “I haven’t been able to stop looking at you since you walked in,” Mat breathed, feeling like he was drowning in his own butterflies. You smelled sweet and distantly like a rose, the more he stood close to you, the more it made his head spin, but he couldn’t step away from you.

           You turned your head to look up at him and this time it was him who stole your breath away. It wasn’t your first time seeing him in the suit, but seeing it up close was different. He looked clean cut without the scruff, his hair pushed off of his face and styled perfectly. His suit fit him like a glove, showing his biceps perfectly, his thighs covered by expensive looking fabric. He smelled musky and delicious, for a split second you wanted to dig your face into his neck and breathe him in.

           You wondered what the skin on his neck tasted like, would it taste tangy with the remainder of his aftershave? Or would it taste sweet and warm on your tongue?

           The thoughts shattered your chest as you finally looked away from his neck and top of his chest to look up at his eyes, only to find them filled with heat, like he was thinking about the same thing, but it was your neck he was itching to taste.

           “What can I get you two?”

           The bartender pulled you two from your trance and while you gave your drink to the bartender, Mat cleared his throat as he struggled to come back to reality.  Your body felt like it was vibrating as Mat spoke, asking for whatever beer he had.

           When he disappeared, Mat’s fingers followed the hemline of fabric that dipped over your back. “We need to talk.”

           The moment had been ruined by the bartender, simply doing his job, but his four little words really ruined it. “Do you touch all journalists like this?” You attempted to joke but Mat didn’t crack a smile.

           “Just you,” Mat’s lips grazed over your ear, making sure you heard him.

           His words caused a stutter of breath to fill your lungs. You squeezed your clutch in your hands as he whispered, “Let’s go talk.”

           “We’re both on the clock, Mat.” You said quietly, smiling at the bartender as he handed you the glass of wine and Mat’s beer. Mat handed him a twenty and was quick to follow you as you took a sip of your somewhat dry wine and turned to get back to the party.

           “So, then I’ll drive you home and we can talk,” Mat offered and slid his fingers around the curve of your elbow and came to stand in front of you.

           People were beginning to watch you two but luckily those people were his teammates and the WAGs, they were all watching you two with amused looks on their faces and wondering what was going to happen.

           “You can’t avoid me forever, gorgeous.” Mat breathed, attempting a smile, one that he hoped would make you melt a little bit.

           You pressed your lips together, forgetting you had put on a nude lipstick and only remembering when Mat’s eyes flickered to your mouth and watched you. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that Mat would forget about you and you wouldn’t have to talk, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let this go.

           “Fine,” You whispered, lifting your glass of wine and taking a sip, side stepping him and going to join the party, leaving Mat standing there.

           The whole night you almost forgot you were supposed to be working to write about this night and what the Islanders did for the foundation. You found yourself being a friend more than a journalist to the boys and the wives and girlfriends couldn’t get enough of you. It seemed like the night went by too quickly and before you knew it, people were slowly leaving and Mat found his way to you.

           You said your goodbyes and headed for the door, waiting on Mat as he went to coat check and grabbed yours. He slipped your coat over your shoulders and touched your back, “Ready?”

           You hummed and nodded, walking beside him as you two headed for your car.

           “Did you have a good night?” Mat asked softly, following the directions coming from the navigation that led to your place.

           You nodded, “It was fun.”

           “Always is with that group,” Mat smiled.

           The rest of the night following agreeing to be here with him, your stomach had been filled with butterflies. You could hear him laugh from the other side of the room, feel his eyes sweep over you every chance he got.

           It wasn’t a long drive to your apartment and the conversation loomed over your head, you kept waiting for him to bring it up but he struggled to find where to start. He followed you up to the door of your apartment and lingered outside the door, smiling softly at you after you popped the door open.

           “Thank you for the ride,” you murmured, smiling at him.

           Mat relaxed into the doorframe, pressing his shoulder into the frame. “Anything to get a few more minutes with you.”

           Your cheeks flushed.

           “I’m sorry about what happened a couple weeks ago.”

           You looked up from your clutch and at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, looking nervous. “I didn’t mean to snap and I didn’t realize I did it. I’m sorry.”

           It meant more knowing that he meant it and that he wasn’t just tossing the two words around, that he actually knew what he did wrong. That he wasn’t just apologizing and leaving it at I’m sorry.

           “It was a hard game,” you whispered.

           “It’s no excuse,” He answered, shaking his head. “You were doing your job, you didn’t deserve it.”

           You nodded again, breathing deeply.

           “I love looking at you,” Mat breathed, stepping closer to you. He grinned, “makes me lose my mind.”

           “Mat,” you murmured in warning as he turned and pressed you into the other side of the doorframe.

           One of his hands touched the space above your head, his eyes glazing over. “Can’t I have one taste?”

           You didn’t mean too, but your lips parted in a small gasp. Mat took one last step until his hips brushed yours, his cologne suffocating you. You were rooted to the ground and couldn’t move. You shouldn’t because this should remain professional, but he had you in a trance and you just wanted one taste, as well.

           Mat lowered his head and tilted, letting the anticipation build between the two of you. The air between you both was electric and the closer he neared, your eyes fluttered shut.

           The moment his lips touched yours in soft pressure, he groaned lowly and captured your bottom lip in a kiss that made your toes curl in your heels. Your hand touched his chest, feeling the smooth lapels of his jacket underneath your palm. After a moment, Mat pulled away and his forehead touched yours.

           He groaned, “Ah, fuck.”

           “You should… get home.”

           “Or I could keep kissing you,” Mat offered, his hand touched your waist and when he stepped closer again, your bodies held no space between them.

           “We shouldn’t.”

           “God, yes, we should.” He moaned before his mouth sealed over yours again in a deeper kiss, this time his tongue licking its way into your mouth. He tasted like beer, salty and bitter, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

           You dropped your clutch to the ground and slid your hands up his wide chest and into his hair, both of his arms wrapped around your hips and holding you close. You could feel his length thick and hard against your stomach and it only made your center swell with an achy need.

           “Oh, fuck, wow, okay,” Your roomie slash friend blurted out, the extra voice pulled Mat from your mouth.

           You looked at your friend as her eyes were wide. She motioned to her room, “I’m just gonna…”

           “Nah, it’s all good,” Mat cut her off, stepping away from you and looking back down at you with a small smirk. “I’m heading home anyways.”

           Your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

           “Have a good night, Y/N,” he breathed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

           He lingered longer than needed, but it felt too good and too right to not allow it. So, when he pulled away, you had to fight the urge to pull him back into your apartment.

           “Night, Mat,” you smiled, watching him wave at your friend and walk off.

           When you faced your friend, her eyes were wide and mouth open.

           “Okay… so, what the fuck was that?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine

[nobodycallsmerae]

Stuck on You...

All the former Titans and their kids laughed at Cyborg's reaction to the story they were currently narrating.

Dick, Kory, Mar'i, Vic, Karen, formerly known as Bumble Bee, and TJ and Beast Boy's family were currently all sprawled around the Logan household's living room, as all the friends told the kids the much-anticipated story.

'And kids,' Dick started, looking at his daughter, Mark and Maya, and TJ, Vic's son. 'That is how the "cutest" couple in the Titans universe came to be!' He chuckled.

Raven and Gar looked at each other as they leaned in for a kiss.

'Eww... PDA!' Maya and Mark whined as Mar'i smiled. 'I love, love.' She muttered under her breath.

Breaking away from the kiss, Gar asked, 'PDA? But I'm behind the closed doors of my house... with my family.'

'It means "Parental Display of Affection".' TJ chirped in.

'And it's much worse than "Public Display of Affection", believe me." Maya said.

All of them burst out laughing.

'But I have to say, I loved your story!' Mar'i said in a sing-song way. 'You really are the "cutest" and most romantic couple!'

'Hey!' Dick pretended to look offended, 'You do know that your parents are Dick and Kory Grayson, right?' He joked as the room was once again filled up with laughs.

'Well, I've gotta say, Logan.' Came a voice from above Garfield's head which made him release a girly "eep!" as Damian Wayne hanged upside down from the ceiling. 'You very much knew what you were doing.'

'WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?' Gar exclaimed, surprised from his visit.

'He came in with the Graysons', Dad,' Mark spoke up. 'Didn't you notice?'

'No!' Gar exclaimed, clutching his chest. He looked at Damian. 'I'm getting old dude, don't scare me like that!'

'I'll keep that in mind.' He replied, still hanging upside down, a smirk playing on his lips.

Though the present leader of the Titans would never admit it, he liked the former hero.

Yes, it was true that he was too immature of an adult, but he was also an amazing person and Damian always regarded him with respect, though small moments like these were common between them.

'So, Little D, word has it that you went on a date with Maya Logan here?' Dick smirked.

At this, Damian's eyes wide opened as he lost his balance and fell down from the ceiling, falling to the ground with a light "thud".

'Huh, who knew Damian Wayne could fall off like that?' Dick joked at his beloved, flustered brother

Maya, on instinct, rushed towards him and helped him stand up. After smoothening his red hoodie, and nodding a quick thanks at Maya, he finally regained his composure.

'It wasn't a date.' He glared with red cheeks at his step-brother, who was grinning. 'We just went to a library after school and as it was getting late, we just go-'

'Yeah, yeah, we know.' Gar cut him off, waving his hands in front of him. He slowly walked towards Damian and took a big breath. 'And, unless and until I get no complaints... I allow you to date my daughter.'

Maya blushed at her father's announcement, and a tinge of red was also visible on the Robin's cheeks.

'Re-really?' He asked, a bit surprised.

'Yeah.' Garfield put a hand on the boy's shoulder. 'I know you, Damian. You're an amazing kid, and I believe Maya will be safe with you... Just don't harm her.' He said the last line with gritted teeth as he squeezed Damian's shoulder with so much pressure, that the Boy Wonder's arm began to visibly shake.

'Ye- Yes Sir!' Damian gave an uncharacteristic squeak as Gar released his grip.

'Your daughter is safe with me.' He insisted, and then gave a small smile as he lifted his hand for a handshake, 'Thank you, Gar.'

Gar shook his head with a smile as he pulled the unsuspecting boy into a bear hug, as all the people around the room "aww-ed".

***

After all the entertaining events of the night, everyone was occupied with something or the other after a rather delicious feast prepared by Raven, with the help of her generous husband, of course.

As Raven was busy putting away some leftover food in the refrigerator, she took a moment to look around her.

She saw Kory and Karen, who were helping her do the dished earlier, were still preoccupied with gossips.

Dick was telling something to Damian and Maya, but she could see that they were paying less to no attention at the rambling adult, as they looked busy staring into each other's eyes. She let herself smile at that.

On the couch, she saw Vic playing video games with Gar. She smirked, Vic was still good at beating Garfield's butt at video games.

In the distance, she saw TJ talking to Mar'i, who looked a bit confused, while Mark was standing near them with a magazine, glancing at his friends with tinted cheeks. TJ is probably being the wingman for Mark. She smiled.

Raven remembered when they were younger, probably 18, or 19, Cyborg, and on some good days, even Nightwing would act as wingmen for Beast Boy, but she always dismissed them, thinking of it as some kind of prank. She laughed, thinking of the memories.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist as she was lost in her thoughts.

'Hey, beautiful.' Gar whispered from her back. 'Something on your mind?'

'Nothing particularly..' She turned around to face him. 'Look at everyone...' She breathed.

Gar smiled and looked around the room.

'Look at them,' He looked at Damian and Maya, both in their own little bubble. 'Our little girl's all grown up...' He wiped a fake tear from his eyes.

Raven smiled, 'And what about Mark?'

'Ehh, he was ought to leave the house someday...' Gar jokingly waved her off as they both ended up laughing.

'But, seriously,' He said, looking at TJ taking to Mar'i while Mark was trying to be "cool". 'I have to teach my son some skills. He's not getting any girl like that.'

Raven chuckled.

'It's so amazing...' She breathed after a pause, 'All of us are still together... the Titans I mean. And, it's not like it's forced or anything... All of us are really... truly happy to be in each other's lives.'

'Yeah, well,' Gar smiled. 'We are a family, Rae. Vic, Kory, Dick, Karen... we're all part of such an amazing.. dysfunctional family.' He chuckled.

'I never thought I would have a family of mine, Gar...' Raven said, clutching his chest.

'But here you are, Rae!' He smiled, tightening his grip around her small frame. 'You're blessed with two amazing children... and a dashing and handsome husband if I do say so myself.' He wriggled his eyebrows which made her chuckle. 'And, you're an awesome wife and a loving mother... and the fact that you are also a selfless hero.. it all just adds up!'

Raven smiled.

Their relationship wasn't always the best one... It was mostly on-and-off.

But, in the end, both of them knew if they were to end up with someone, it would always be each other.

No matter how heated their arguments got... at the end of the day, all that mattered was they loved each other, and no one and nothing could ever change that.

She looked at him, his face glowing in front of her. He was always an open book, and though he did try to bury some emotions, Raven always knew better.

But now, in front of her, in his bright green eyes, there were no regrets, no sadness, no doubts or "what if" thoughts.

All that was there was happiness, adoration, passion, love, and hope for an even brighter future together.

Unable to control herself from all the wonderful emotions flowing off of him, she leaned forward and crashed her lips with his. Gar was taken a bit off guard but kissed her back just as passionately.

'What was that for?' He asked, panting a bit from the hot kiss.

'Nothing... just.' Raven held him close, burying her face into his arms. 'I love you, Gar.'

He smiled and kissed her head, holding her close.

'I love you too, Rae...'

Reviews and critisim are fully welcomed!

Find the full story on Wattpad and Fanfiction.net!

#bbrae #garchel #garrae #fanfiction #fanfic #future #robstar #dickkory #cybee #damian x oc #teen titans #titans #mar'i grayson #oc

[anthonyed]

buckytony for “it’s cold, you should wear my jacket”? only if you’re still taking prompts !

Thank you for requesting, Ava! I hope you like this:) (from this list)

-//-

Bucky Barnes loves people.

He genuinely loves them; the way they interact, the way they act and react and all of their emotions especially their unsurmountable passion – Witnessing that in itself can be electrifying.

Secretly, Bucky wishes he could taste that much passion at least once. 

Subconsciously, he seeks them out in people he’s around – Hoping even if it’s not his own, at least, someone would be kind enough to share theirs.

-

When he first tries to acclimatize to the ecosystem in the Avengers tower, he sticks a lot with Bruce because Bruce oozes tranquillity.

Bruce has weekly tea dates with Natasha, whom Bucky kinda remembers but also kinda doesn't. But since he's leaving all those memories behind and moving on, he doesn't wallow into that part of his past too much. 

He joins them on their tea dates. Natasha later invites him for Yoga sessions and once Bucky is confident enough to be alone with her, he joins her.

They practice various poses for hours and at the end of each session, Bruce will pop in to lead them through meditation. Which is all good; a reliable system in the building if you ask for Bucky’s opinion.

But Natasha occasionally goes on missions and Bruce on some personal trips; sometimes both of their trips coincide and Bucky's left fending for himself.

These are the times when he pops out of his room, feet padding in the direction of boisterous laughter which comes from Sam Wilson and Clint Barton; resident's children.

They teach him how to play video games and curse in 21st century slang. He learns slurs and cuss words which he then practices on Steve for personal entertainment.

There's also Miss Potts who flutters in and out of their life like a hummingbird.

Bucky first meets her on an early Monday morning; sitting alone at the communal kitchen table talking to herself (which he later learns was to an earpiece).

She's thoughtful in a way that nobody else is.

She loudly complains about Tony Stark while jabbing at the coffee machine pointedly, making sure Bucky could see what she is doing - And he realises half-way through that she is teaching him how to operate the machinery without being obvious about it.

She's lovely; Bucky likes her very much.

He also likes Jim Rhodes, who is worse than Miss Hummingbird. 

Who visits during the Memorial Day, gets stupid drunk trying to out drink Stevie then uses Bucky as his beanpole for the entire afternoon recounting all of his favourite military tales until he passes out.

Bucky doesn't mind; Colonel Rhodes smells nice under all the alcohol and he makes very funny jokes. 

There’s also the fact that Tony Stark loves him very loudly and proudly.

Like Stevie, he thinks; Tony Stark is Colonel Rhodes’ Stevie (Or maybe it’s the other way around, Bucky needs more time to figure that one out.)

Harold 'Happy' Hogan catches Bucky stepping out of the tower one night and offers to drive him in one of Stark's long weiner cars. When Bucky says no thanks, he crooks a finger and shows him where the motorbikes are.

"Are you sure...?"

"As long as you don't crash," Happy tosses a set of keys and Bucky accepts it, reluctantly.

But the ride he gets that evening is both soul-shifting and addictive, and he feels more reluctant returning the key when it ends.

“Never mind,” Happy tells him, “These are accessible any time, just ask JARVIS for them.”

And Bucky thinks Happy is cool that way. So, when he's coming home from long rides then on, Bucky makes sure to grab burgers with extra fries for him. Happy likes them curly; Bucky remembers that too for him,

Bucky meets Tony Stark on the battle-field for the first time. Static, machine-modulated voice tells him to watch his "sexy six" and Bucky blushes three shades darker under the afternoon Sun.

Later, after long countless observations, Bucky learns Tony Stark flirts like he breathes; no intentions what-so-ever beneath his wicked tongue.

But Bucky's got a heart too tender just blooming out of ash like baby phoenix and he couldn't help but get deeply affected by each one of those passes Tony throws at him.

He blushes like a red rose in July; warm and pretty and everyone notices the weakened state of his knees.

From Bruce to Natasha to Stevie, Sam and Clint. Hell, even Happy and Miss Potts could see past his breastbone where his heart flutters out of control when Tony Stark is around.

Come Halloween, Colonel Rhodes passes through; staying for one night and in the span of less than five hours he's been around, he corners Bucky in the kitchen and asks him what his intentions are.

Bucky stutters through his response; even apologizes for his over-reaction to Tony Stark's meaningless flirtation.

But Jim Rhodes cocks his head right and squeezes his arm. He says if there is anyone he'd trust to make his Tony happy, then it would be: "You, Sergeant Barnes"

Colonel Rhodes flies early on November 1st, but his words stick long and hard in Bucky's brain for weeks on end.

Then one day, an idea strikes him.

He rolls out of the bed with a sense of urgency; sending texts to both Bruce and Tasha, apologizing for not being able to make it to today's tea session and he hops into the elevator; pulling his shoes on, one after another.

"The workshop please, Mister JARVIS," he requests.

He knows Tony's in. Heard him talking to Miss Potts this morning about clearing out his schedule and Bucky hopes with all of his beating heart that his plan wouldn't face any rejection from Tony.

Stepping into the shop, breathless from all the emotions boiling in his chest, Bucky blurts out: "Come out with me."

Tony stark; stunned behind his protective eyewear, arms bare through his singlet, drops the welding torch he's been manning with a loud clang.

"Now?" he asks.

Not 'Are you kidding me?' or 'No fucking way'; but, 'Now?' he asks while wiping his fingers on a cloth, looking ready to follow like he’s been waiting for Bucky to come around since ages ago.

Bucky grins at him. "Yeah," he nods, "It’s cold, you should wear my jacket." He tosses the extra pair he'd grabbed from his closet and Tony catches it with an ease and an amused grin.

“Your jacket, Sergeant? I could swoon.”

“Good,” Bucky says, watching him pull it on. “I was hoping you would.”

Ten minutes later, they're speeding on the freeway on one of Tony's bikes; late Autumn breeze licking where their skins are uncovered, and it's freezing cold. But Bucky could only taste the warmth from Tony’s body plastered against him; his arms, tight and securely locked around his midriff. Like bursts of sunlight in a snow-storm.

They stop for dinner at one of the diners Bucky had been to twice before - could vouch for their food - and he's more than glad when Tony wipes his plate clean with the last fry.

When he packs for Happy like he usually does, Tony watches him with a curious kind of softness in his brown eyes; so, Bucky shares their little story with him.

On their way back home, they pull over at the side of the freeway that’s shaving the top of a small hill overlooking a neighbourhood and it’s guarded by a long silver railing which Tony hops over; waits for Bucky to follow with his hand out-reached for taking.

Bucky grabs it; clutches onto like a lifeline, at the same time, a fragile china, and they shuffle down the grassy slope; mouths split in wide grins, chuckles bursting out of seams and when Tony comes to a stop somewhere in the middle, Bucky does too.

"It's not always you get to see stars," Tony says, fingers tangled with Bucky’s like he wants to be and he's beautiful; eyes cast skyward, wonder glimmering in their warmth, lips curved in a soft angle -

He looks like the star itself has descended to earth; burning bright before Bucky's eyes and - Jesus Roosevelt Christ. What kind of heaven is that? Bestowed on Bucky, like a blessing beyond any worth and he doesn't know what to do with himself right then. 

You leave me breathless: he longs to say. You make me feel blessed beyond what I deserve, make me feel more than I know I ever could and it would be my goddamn honour to love you, I swear - Would be my Goddamn fucking honour to love you, sweetheart.

 But he doesn't say all that; would have choked on his tongue before he could even manage half of them out, so he swallows his spit and watches Tony watch the stars until his swollen heart explodes into confetti rain in its cage and -

And then, Bucky breathes; inhales lungs full of cold air prickling like icicles throughout his chest – shuddering, and when Tony looks down from the night sky at him, Bucky cups his jaw with trembling fingers and strokes his cheek with a thumb.

"You drive me insane," he tells him. "But you also keep me sane.”

“You’re like Bruce with his tea and Tasha with her Yoga. You’re what Sam and Clint describe how they feel when they play video games, or how Stevie says drawing makes him feel. You make my heart hop a mile like a bunny rabbit but also soothe me like balm, and if that’s how it feels to be passionate in life, then you’re my reason why.”

The stars blink up in the sky, the sound of the traffic along with the bone chilling November breeze witness Bucky empty his soul for Tony to take in the middle of a hill slope, somewhere upstate. 

But Tony, he's silent; for the first time since Bucky had known him, he's holding his tongue. And Bucky wishes he doesn't. 

Wishes, he would say something; anything at all. Or he would smile, or grin, and let Bucky taste passion for the first time from his tongue - One that is his own for a change, not someone else's. 

But neither happens; nothing happens. 

Tony doesn't say a word or show any signs of either acceptance or rejection; even if his breath catches in a sharp inhale exactly one time and he presses his hand over Bucky’s on his face. 

But neither could count in the face of how violently Bucky had cleaved his gut open for Tony that night.

They get on the road again soon after and Bucky's skin starts to itch from growing worries; wondering if he’d crossed a fine line between them because Tony's silence is eating him alive.

He stays pressed close to Bucky’s back for their entire ride home; hands locked tight over Bucky’s midriff and somewhere in the middle, Bucky feels the heat of Tony's cheek through his leather jacket; pressed between his shoulder blades, injecting trickles of hope into his spine.

When they reach the city and later the tower; when Bucky pulls into the garage and turns off the engine, neither of them gets off the bike.

For Bucky, he pretends the journey's still not over so he could savour the warmth plastered onto his back just a little while longer.

As for Tony, Bucky finds out why he’s staying when the locked arms around his waist breaks and one of the hands wander upwards; coming to rest over where Bucky’s heart trips and races; the prickling sensation along his nape doubling and he stops breathing all at once.

When he does inhale, his spine bones shudder from the forceful way he sucks in a breath. Evidently feeling the tremor, Tony chuckles close to his ear and tells him to, “Take it easy, James. I’m trying to feel if you’ve told me the truth, or made up a beautiful lie.”

A giddy exhale escapes Bucky’s chest in a soft puff air. Feeling suddenly bold just from that statement, he leans back into Tony’s hold and presses his own hand on top of his.

And he savours the silence along with the sweet scent of Tony tinged with metal and grease, and Bucky could swear, he feels Tony’s heartbeat through the layers of their clothes. From behind their ribs and flesh and through their lungs, and it feels like the meat of their hearts have merged into one; singing to the same symphony in the womb of their home.

Later, once the tune has sunk into his marrow, Bucky quietly asks, “What’s the verdict, sweetheart?”

Their hands still lay, combined over Bucky’s chest and it’s heaven to be this close with someone you ache for – Bucky knows. He never forgets to count his blessings these days; he just hopes that this one never finds its end at all.

If he could whisper a wish into the air, he’d ask God to let them stay this way forever. But this goes both ways, and Bucky may be selfish but he’s not entirely cruel; he wouldn’t subject Tony to what he doesn’t want.

So, he gives him another out; prods, “Am I a liar or am I not?”, when Tony doesn’t answer him the first time around.

But Tony seems to desire what Bucky wants – Which. What a miracle is that?

He says, “Shh, James Barnes. Let’s just stay like this longer,” and Bucky’s poor heart, in all of its new born tenderness; speckles of ash still present from when it was reborn like a phoenix  - Finally, finds its wings and soars high. 

#buckytony #winteriron #mine #*fingers crossed* i hope you like this #thank you for the help may #prompts

[meetthetank]

Cruciamen Chapter 11: A Touch of Honey

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Other Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), Emil (NieR: Automata), Kainé (Nier) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, genre typical violence, On the Run, Monster of the Week, 9S is a half demon, 2B and A2 are shapeshifter Dragons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut in the future, inaccurate depictions of medical procedures, Fantasy Biology, A2 is Nonbinary Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104214/chapters/79358422

The art in the thick, leatherbound tome is unlike anything A2 has seen before. Great warriors, their mighty weapons, and the monsters they slew dance across the page and intermingle with the precisely placed text. They run their bandaged fingers over the linework and imagine the rough splinters of the carved woodblock. Each image is rendered with exquisite detail and transferred to the page with expert skill. The ink doesn’t even smear when they touch it.

The door to their sickroom swings open. A4 strides in, black curls bouncing with each step, carrying a basket of supplies and a plate of food. The dry beige stuff, “bread” and soft yellow stuff, “cheese” have been mostly replaced by fresh fruits, but there’s still small pieces of both hidden underneath. The nun regards A2 with a bright smile that makes her emerald eyes shine. For the past three days she’s greeted them this way, always the same smile, the same twinkle in her eyes. It’s weird, but A2 doesn’t mind.

“I didn’t take you for a scholar,” she says, placing her basket down and coming to their bedside. “Oh, no offense.” A4 scans the page open on A2’s lap, then sighs wistfully. “I always love this story. The Sword Saint is one of my favorite heroes. What about you?”

A2 blinks, their expression neutral. “I can’t read it. I just think the pictures are cool.”

“Oh.” The nun turns her head and makes a strange coughing noise. When she turns back her face is red, making the smattering of freckles across her cheeks stand out.

“What?”

“Nothing!” A4 yelps. “Just ah-... Dry throat is all.”

“Okay…” A2 mutters.

“What’s your favorite picture then?” A4 asks, eager to change the subject.

Their expression lightens a bit. “The weapons.”

“Oh, really?”

A2 nods. “Yeah. Never seen some of these before. They look cool.” Their fingers trace across an image of a wicked looking serrated blade. “Back home, the elders said that weapons told stories. I never believed it as a cub, weapons couldn’t talk.”

“Interesting,” A4 muses. She looks at them, lying in bed, clearly bored out of their skull. Their leg bounces under the covers, their eyes dart around only to settle on her face for a few moments, then find something else to be interested in. The book is long forgotten, and A4 guesses that sitting here telling stories would be as ineffective as trying to get them to change their bandages regularly. Then,  suddenly claps her hands together.“I have an idea!”

They close the book and tilt their head to the side. “Huh?”

“I bet you’re tired of walking around the infirmary. I could take you around some of the other buildings, if you’d like.”

A2 grumbles to themself. Though they feel better after walking with A4, they despise being led around like a lost cub. Not even the prospect of new scenery will change their attitude.

“There’s lots of sculptures and art, and even relic weapons I could show you,” she says with a coy smile.

That… gets their attention. “... When are we going?”

“Whenever you’re ready, I think.” 

A4 offers her hand out to A2 to help them out of bed. They wrap their bandaged fingers around hers and allow themself to be pulled up. Though the sharp pains and aches that ravaged their body have dulled, they still wince and hiss under their breath as they stand. Parts of their skin, particularly in their shoulders, elbows, lower back, and legs, feel too tight, as if their bones are a tanning rack. A4 places a worried hand on their shoulder. They give a dismissive wave but don’t reject the touch. 

“I’m fine,” A2 says, forcing themself to stand as tall as they can. “Just a bit stiff.”

The nun sticks by their side as they leave the infirmary. A2 grumbles that they’re not about to fall over, but A4 remains adamant that she’s here in case they need some support. They glance around at the other rooms that happen to have the doors open. There aren’t many other patients housed here; A2 counts at least three or four patients and one other nun. This place must not get many visitors, or much outside aid for that matter.

The sun blinds them temporarily as they step onto the worn path that leads from the infirmary to the rest of the convent’s grounds. Straight ahead is an old stone chapel, decorated with symbols and iconography A2 recognizes from the book they were reading. Immediately left of that is a building similar in structure to the infirmary from which other nuns come in and out. The scents of unfamiliar foods drifts out of the open windows, and A4 giggles when A2 stares at the building as they pass.

As they approach the living quarters and the chapel, A2 notices a distinct change in the atmosphere around them. There’s an energy in the air that sends a chill up their spine, something unseen that makes the downy feathers beneath their hair prick up. 

A4, noticing their tension, puts a hand on their shoulder.

“What is that?” they ask, stormy eyes darting around in search of a threat. “Something’s weird here.”

“It’s the blessed grounds,” A4 explains. “The area surrounding the chapel and our dormitory have been consecrated to ward against demons and other creatures.” 

A2 nods along, not understanding at all. At least this place has some kind of protection. The only thing preventing an invasion is The Bog to the north and dense woods to the south. A fence or stones would be preferable, but a magical barrier will do, they suppose.

A4 brings them to the chapel first. She stops in front of the heavy wooden doors with A2 by her side and clasps her hands together in front of her chest. Though she mutters a prayer in a language A2 does not recognize, they can tell the words are full of reverence. She bows her head, makes motions across her body with her hands, then leans forward as far as possible in an exaggerated bow. A2 stands and stares, unsure if they should be following along or not. They fold their hands clumsily, only for A4 to giggle at them once again. Heat floods their face and they cross their arms over their chest with an indignant huff. 

She pushes the doors open much more easily than A2 thought she would. Cool air laden with fragrant incense rushes out and rustles their hair. There’s barely any light inside, only the sun’s rays and a few candles illuminate the interior of the old building, but it’s enough for the colorful glass windows to shine in brilliant greens, reds, and blues. They follow A4 with their head on a swivel, trying in vain to take in everything around them. Each window has an image inside it of different colored glass, giving the depictions of strange beings and holy figures an otherworldly quality. In between each window are statues depicting all manner of weird and awe-inspiring creatures. There are many beings that seem to defy the laws of nature, each one brandishing instruments of war such as swords, spears, and great shields. One winged creature with a long, featureless face that ends in a point unnerves A2. Despite it having no eyes, it seems to stare at them. 

“What are these…” A2 murmurs, finding themself staying close to A4.

“Angels,” she explains, slowing her pace to match A2’s

They shiver. “I didn’t think they would look so…” So much like demons? They don’t dare say that aloud. “... Monstrous.”

A4 giggles. “Angels and other heavenly bodies aren’t from this world.”

“Oh.” They scuff their shoes against the stone floor, feeling a little silly. Of course they wouldn’t be from this world. “Where are they from? Has anyone seen an angel before?” 

They don’t mean to be rude, they’re only curious, but the frown that sours A4’s soft features makes them rethink asking questions like that again.

“We call their world Paradise,” she says, forcing her expression to be neutral again. “There are a number of thinkers that theorize that it’s somewhere high above the clouds or among the stars. The few times we have seen angels, they’ve descended from the sky.” She sighs and thumbs the fabric of her dress. “It’s... been a long time since anyone has seen an angel. The last recorded sighting was during the time of the Hellwalker, thousands of years ago.”

A2 hums and searches for anything to change the subject. A statue close to the small altar catches their attention. An armored human, or something that used to be human, holds out his arms as an angelic warrior erupts from his split chest. Though graphic and morbid (the scene sends chills down A2’s spine), none of the more gruesome details are rendered in the stone. Even the human with his chest agape seems to be enraptured by the holy warrior emerging from his decimated body.

“Wh-” 

They stop short of asking about the sculpture, but ever observant, A4’s head whips around to face them. She looks from their face to the statue and back again, easily piecing together the question A2 was about to ask.

“This was Saint Agustus, an Ascended,” she explains. “Exceptional people of the Faith are sometimes chosen by the Bishops to give up their body to an angel. They become holy vessels of divine will.”

A2 only nods along, watching as A4 clutches a charm that dangles from their prayer bead necklace. They can’t make out the shape, but it looks like a similar design to what the statue of Saint Augustus has tied to his belt. Before A4 can catch them staring they avert their eyes, making sure not to linger on anything for too long. The last thing they want to do is make this sweet nun feel like she has to educate them on every aspect of the Faith.

“The weapons look cool,” they say in a desperate attempt to avoid any prying religious based questions.

It seems to work, as A4 smiles. “They are, but the real ones are even cooler.” For the first time since coming into the chapel, she looks genuinely excited. It’s infectious; A2 can’t stop themself from grinning as well. “Would you like to see some?”

All A2 has to do is nod once for A4 to grab their hand and lead them through the chapel and down a stairwell. A few other nuns scowl at her but it doesn’t seem to bother A4 in the slightest; in fact she seems to smile wider once she does notice. That little act of mischief from the woman A2 thought was a good and pious girl makes her smirk, just a bit.

Another set of oaken doors separate the basement of the chapel, used for storing unused furniture and holiday paraphernalia, from the Order’s armory. The array and variety of weapons is impressive enough, but the decoration and detail on their ornaments is dazzling. Each sword, spear, axe, mace, and bow is embellished with holy symbols, geometric designs, and mosaics of brilliant gems and stones. A massive sword in a glass case catches A2’s eye. Its intricate lattice work and inlaid jewels outline the polished and gilded blade. It’s ostentatious and far too gaudy for their tastes, but A2 can’t deny that it’s impressive.

“That’s Teresa’s Ecstasy,” A4 explains. “Or, a replica of it.”

“Cool…” A2 says, staring at the sword with wide, awestruck eyes.

A4 goes around and gives a little lesson on each weapon or replica and who used it. Teresa’s Ecstasy might be the largest and shiniest, but the brutal headsman axes wielded by Holy Executioners would be their choice out of the lot, hypothetically. There’s a pair of swords that look strangely familiar to A2, two serrated black iron swords devoid of the elaborate decorations or the others. A4 explains them to be the favored weapons of someone known as the Sword Saint.

“This is what I take into battle,” A4 says and takes what A2 thought to be a censer off of a rack, but it is adorned with the wicked blades and spikes of a flail. “I burn a sacred herb inside that emits a smoke that suffocates demons.”

She demonstrates her skills with several wide sweeps and a downward strike to finish. A2 steps back to give her room to swing the flail. It almost looks like a dance and it astounds them that A4 doesn’t lose control of the weapon and smack herself in the face with it. It's enchanting in a way they didn’t expect, and they find themself watching her with enough intensity that when A4 catches them staring, her face flushes red and she falters, allowing the golden chain to catch on her arm. She sputters a half explanation, half apology as she hangs the thurible back on its rack. 

A4 clears her throat. “S-so. Which one would you pick?”

They can’t help but smile. Her question carries the same excited innocence that a child has when asking a friend what their favorite lizard is. A2 scans the racks and shelves filled with weapons, relics, and replicas. Most of these are far too flashy or strange for them to latch onto, but there is a rack of simple wooden weapons. At first they mistake them for harmless training weapons, but one catches their eye. They pick up a heavy dark oak club with spikes crudely hammered into the rounded end. It’s hefty, top-heavy, yet well balanced and cruel. They give it a practice swing, then a more powerful one and smirk at the simple brutality of the spiked club.

“This one. If I didn’t have my sword, of course.”

She giggles. “I thought you might pick the Club of Saint Gertrude.”

A2 decides that Saint Gertrude had good taste. They set the club back in its place with much more reverence than before. 

The pair don’t stay down in the armory for very long. An older nun whom A4 refers to as Sister Beatrice (who also lingers behind them as they leave) scolds them for playing around with holy relics. A4 tries to defend herself but quickly absconds with A2 in tow before the old woman could get too angry. As they exit the chapel and A2 has to walk past the statues and windows once more, they can’t shake a certain observation of the convent’s art and iconography that sticks in their mind. Everything here, despite being holy and images of purity, is very... sexual. Even the people or demons being skewered or torn apart have expressions of pure ecstasy and pleasure. They shove the thought away as they and A4 exit the chapel and the fresh air fills their lungs.

Along with the calming scents of grass and the woods, something else catches A2’s attention. A savory smell, like searing meat but not as sharp or oily, drifts from the building A4 had identified as the dormitory. It’s a wholly unknown scent to them, but it makes their mouth water nonetheless. Thankfully that building is A4’s next destination. 

Since there’s no ritual she needs to perform for entering the living quarters, A4 walks right through the much less ornate wooden door, holding it open for A2. The entryway is sparsely decorated: only wide, featureless windows that let in natural light and potted plants of various kinds sit among neatly lined pairs of boots. Other belongings and clothes sit on small tables and vanities near the door: several woven black shawls, prayer beads, and simple leather satchels. It’s hard to tell just how many nuns live here, but A2 figures at least twenty based on how many pairs of boots they can see. 

A4 leads them through the halls of the dormitory, which is relatively uninteresting aside from the different paintings of what A2 assumes to be saints that adorn the walls every so often. The smell grows stronger and stronger until they reach a large, open kitchen and dining area. Well-used pots and pans hang from the rafters, a pot of water boils on an oven with a small cookfire crackling inside, and plates of breads and cheeses sit on the center table, ready for lunch time. 

The young nun bustles back and forth, checking on the pot of something she calls “pasta” that boils on the stove while A2 idly examines the different foods lying about. Some of them they recognize, like cloves of garlic, from the witch’s house. Others they have to sneak a bite of to decide whether or not they like it. Most of the powders and dried plants are far too strong, and it takes all of their self control not to vomit after biting into a thin stick of… something.

A2 finally comes to the loaves of bread that have a white decoration on top of them arranged neatly on a tray. While A4 fusses with organizing some utensils and complaining about how messy one of the other nuns is, A2 picks up a small loaf. It’s much softer than they expected, and denser. It must be a different kind than the ones A4 brings them. It crumbles easily when they roll a piece between their fingers. The white decoration turns to a sticky liquid when they touch it. Cautiously, they take a bite.

It only takes two bites for A2 to eat the whole loaf. 

Whatever this is has to be the sweetest, most amazing thing A2 has ever put in their mouth. It reminds them vaguely of honey, a rare treat back home, but with so much more added to it. They taste a bit of fruit and some of the spices they had sampled in there as well. Suddenly they feel like they’ve been missing out on so much of the world, a feeling that causes tears to well up in their eyes. 

A4’s laughter snaps them out of their religious experience. They try to wipe their eyes as nonchalantly as possible, but the nun sees right through their ruse.

“I never thought anyone would react like that to my baking,” she says, smiling from ear to ear.

“Y-...” A2 looks at her with wide eyes, “You made that?”

“Yes,” she giggles. “It was one of the first things I learned to bake. It’s sweet bread.”

A2 thinks they might like this place after all. They reach for a second loaf only for A4 to smack their hand.

“Hey! Save some for the rest of us!” she scolds them, but the smile plastered across her face lets them know there’s no malice at all. A4 leans in close to A2 and drops her voice to a whisper, “If you cooperate with your treatments and behave yourself I can sneak you some.”

Her excitement is infectious. A pleasant warmth rushes through A2’s body as they laugh with her. “Okay, deal.”

...When was the last time they felt like this?

They don’t linger in the kitchen for very long. A4 tugs them along by the hand once again, eager to have A2 meet her mentor at the convent (or to get them away from the food). She says this is the final stop of their tour, which comes as a secret relief to A2. Their legs and arms are starting to ache and despite eating an entire loaf of sweet bread they want to lie in bed for a few hours. Even walking through the dormitory halls takes the wind out of them. They try to hide it as best they can, but A4 gives them a concerned look when she hears them wheeze.

The final stop turns out to be the dormitory’s infirmary. Why the nuns have their own separate medical wing confuses A2, but the group seems eager to keep outsiders away, considering all the strange looks A2 has been on the receiving end. The room is devoid of people aside from two older women. One wears the same plain black dress and white headscarf that the other nuns wear. She hunches over a much more decrepit woman, dressed in a black robe with an intricate geometric pattern on the front, denoting a higher rank, and tends to a wound on her face. As A2 walks closer, they can smell a harsh potion similar to what A4 has been giving them to clean their sores. 

“Sister Margaret!” A4 calls and waves, then bows to the older old woman. “Good afternoon, Mother Superior.”

“Good afternoon, sister,” both women answer in unison.

A2 gives a shaky wave, standing behind A4 as if this tiny woman would protect them from awkward social encounters. 

“Is this the girl we rescued from the Bog?” Sister Margaret asks, only sparing a glance at A2 before turning back to the wounds on Mother Superior’s face.

They’re about to chime in with their usual response to that assumption, but their words catch in their throat as Mother Superior turns to face them, allowing A2 to see the full extent of her disfigurement. 

Her eyes are gone. The only thing that remains are her eyelids, sewn shut, and two circles of thick scar tissue over them. Sister Margaret gently dabs a sharp-smelling cream over the wounds. 

“Speak, child,” Mother Superior says, her voice severe but worn with age. “Does my penance frighten you?”

“P-...” A2 stammers, their aloof personality vanishing in an instant, “Penance?”

“Mother please.” Sister Margaret playfully taps her elder on the shoulder. “Don’t scare the poor girl.”

A4, Sister Margaret, and Mother Superior chat while Maragret finishes up with her treatments. The three women all seem to get along, from A2’s perspective, but A4 and Margaret seem far closer. A2 lingers on the edge of the group, waiting for and dreading when attention turns back to them. All the while, they can’t stop looking at Mother Superior and her wounds. The word “penance” echoes in their head over and over and over. They see an iron mask sitting beside the matriarch and swallow a lump forming in their throat.

It isn’t long before Mother Superior stands to leave. She waves her goodbyes, A4 and Sister Margaret bow in return, and the old woman hobbles out of the infirmary, leaning on a wooden cane for support and navigation. 

As soon as Mother Superior exits the room, Sister Margaret claps her hands together and approaches A2. “Now! Let's take a look at you…”

This woman has no sense of personal space, A2 thinks. She pulls at their lips to check their teeth, runs her wrinkled hands over their scales and bandages, digs through their hair like she’s looking for ticks, and holds their eyelids open to examine them. They let out a low, annoyed hiss, but allow the old nun to pick them apart like an experiment.

“Looks like you’re doing a good job so far, 4!” Sister Margaret praises. A4 beams with pride. “Keep up with fresh fruit as her main diet, change the bandages daily or more if needed. How are you feeling? Be honest, girl.”

“Uh- I’m not…” They stop, unsure if correcting Sister Margaret about their gender would cause problems. “I’m... still sore. Get tired easily. Get sick if I eat too much.”

Sister Margaret and A4 nod in exactly the same way. “Well,” Margaret begins, “Rest, walks, and a proper diet should put your humors back in check. Don’t keep your condition a secret, there’s no room for the sin of pride in these walls.”

A2 nods, then suddenly chokes on their own spit as Margaret grabs at their upper arm and squeezes their bicep. 

“Hooo boy!” she hoots, giving their arm another squeeze, seemingly pleased by how hard the muscle is. “She’s something alright!” Margaret turns to A4, whose face already begins to flush red. “I’ll say this, if she cleaned up, she’d be a snack and a half!”

She laughs at the red faced A4, while A2 stands there with the blank stare of a confused cub.

#nier automata #nier #nier automata fanfiction #A2 #fantasy au #fanfiction #tank in the real

[fluffysvt]

seventeen scares you on accident 👻

requested ✨

⇢ seungcheol

your eyes flutter open at the unexpected dip of the bed next to you. immediately, your chest tightens; did someone break in? you clench the bedsheets in shaky, tight fists, bracing yourself to turn around-

“babe? are you awake?” seungcheol’s quiet voice is suddenly in your ear. your built up anxiety makes you jump anyway, and he laughs a little in surprise. “did i scare you? i’m sorry we got in so late.”

“yes,” you pout before pulling him down on top of you, arms locked around his neck. “but i’m happy you’re home, so you’re forgiven.”

⇢ jeonghan

you jolt upright in bed, startled out of your nap from your phone endlessly buzzing. eyebrows furrowed, you lean over and see 6 missed calls from jeonghan. a palpable ball of dread tightens in your stomach as you dash to call him back. as soon as the dial tone stops you apprehensively utter, “hannie?”

“babe,” he sounds out of breath, “are you home? i’m on my way over. i wanna kiss you.” you could nearly faint from the rush of nerves that shot straight to your head, which is now ebbing away.

“what? that’s what you were calling nonstop about? i was sleeping,” you frown. he just giggles an apology into the phone at your grumpy voice, promising he’ll snuggle you back to sleep very soon.

⇢ joshua

he knew you liked to play video games with him, especially horror ones - but he never thought you played them by yourself when he wasn’t home.

he smiles to himself when he walks through the front door and sees your back to him, noise-cancelling headphones on. all he has to do is tap you gently on the shoulder and you scream, game controller flying out of your hands.

“josh!” you smack him in the chest, headphones askew on your head. “don’t do that to me!” his smile only grows wider and cockier as he leans down to kiss you (with a not-so-sincere apology).

⇢ junhui

you’re really not sure why you two ended up watching a scary movie; neither of you necessarily like them, but nothing else caught your attention on netflix.

you shift on the couch to huddle next to him, hand clutching his under the blanket as the music grows more and more suspenseful. he’s been teasing you the entire movie, though now he’s watching the screen with wide eyes.

a bloody apparition appears on the screen with shrieking violins, and that’s all it takes for jun to scream; the sheer volume of it next to your ear makes you scream with him, covering your eyes with your hands.

when it’s finally over you scowl and slap his leg. “moon junhui, you scared me more than the damn movie!”

⇢ soonyoung

you can’t stop glancing out the window to glimpse the rainy, sad weather outside, painting your nails on the bedroom floor. what a shitty day, you inwardly fuss, thinking about poor soonyoung coming home in this in a few hours.

just as the thought of him lodges itself into your head, the door bursts open, revealing soonyoung himself. you instinctively drop everything, sending nail polish all over the carpet. “jesus christ, hoshi, what are you doing?” you yell, looking down at the floor in horror.

his once excited expression morphs into one of guilt when he sees your chest rising and falling. “babe, did i scare you? i just wanted to tell you the new tour schedule.”

⇢ wonwoo

all you wanted was a nice, peaceful night. but apparently peace was never an option when wonwoo decided to go digging through some of his old things in the storage closet.

minding your business, you’re sitting on the couch watching a true crime documentary when something rounds the corner - a shadowy figure with a scream mask and a butcher knife. before common sense can remind you it’s your boyfriend you scream, almost flying off the couch. “wonwoo?!”

suddenly you hear laughter, and the mask comes off to reveal his flushed face. “babe, relax. it’s just my halloween costume from last year…”

⇢ jihoon

it’s not like jihoon to be completely unresponsive for an entire day and night - normally he at least has the decency to let you know what he’s up to. you’ve been pacing the living room floor for nearly 24 hours, biting your nails; by the time his face pops up on your screen, you nearly tackle the phone trying to answer it.

“jihoon? what the hell, are you okay? where are you?” you stumble over your own words, heart racing a mile a minute. he quickly explains how he got caught up in the studio, and then somehow fell asleep at his desk.

“my phone must’ve died after i dozed off, baby. i’m so sorry,” he sounds so upset himself you can’t even be mad. “i’m on my way home and you better be ready to cuddle.”

⇢ dokyeom

dokyeom is not a serious boy very often; so, when you receive a series of stern-sounding texts from him, you instantly worry.

kyeomie🍕: babe.

kyeomie🍕: i need you to call me.

kyeomie🍕: RIGHT now

you hurriedly dial his number, holding the phone to your ear with trembling hands. is he going to break up with me? did something happen with seventeen? when he answers the phone, your heart almost stops beating. “babe,” he gushes, “i just saw the cutest dog of all time.”

“dokyeom,” you attempt to collect yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose. “never scare me like that again.”

⇢ mingyu

why on earth does he keep these up here? you wonder as you climb onto one of the kitchen counters, reaching up for a glass from one of the top cabinets.

“need some help?” his voice suddenly sounds behind you, making you jump and drop the cup in your hands. it shatters on the floor as you clutch at your chest.

“mingyu, what the fuck?” you snap. he has a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh. he tip toes around the glass to stand between your legs, uttering apologies as he kisses all over your face.

⇢ minghao

soft bubbles caress your skin and you close your eyes, soaking up the warmth of the bathwater around you. the chill playlist minghao and you made is playing softly and you eventually space out, subconsciously humming along.

a pair of hands rest on your bare shoulders, jerking you out of your own thoughts. your sudden movements cause a small wave of soapy water to splash out of the tub onto the floor, earning a laugh from minghao. “fuck, babe, you snuck up on me,” you whine, letting him move your hair to kiss your neck.

he stands and sarcastically pouts, starting to undress. “it’s not my fault you started without me.”

⇢ seungkwan

perhaps one of your favorite things about dating seungkwan is how much you both love food - and how much you like to cook dinner together. though, bless his heart, you usually like to do all the chopping considering he really likes to take his time.

“see? like this,” you show him, cutting up the onion in front of you much quicker than he had just attempted. except when the knife gets closer to your fingers he gasps loudly, making you jump and drop the sharp knife. “kwannie, you can’t startle me like that!”

his eyes are wide. “i’m sorry, babe, i just really thought you were gonna cut off your fingers...”

⇢ vernon

“mansae, mansae, mansae, yeah,” you bop your head to your headphones, padding through the quiet apartment to the kitchen around midnight. you’re just about to open the fridge to look for a snack when you feel something against your back. well, more like someone.

you nearly jump out of your skin, twisting around to see vernon with his own headphones in; when your eyes meet in the dark you both scream.

you’re the first to pull out your headphones, pouting at him. “vernon, you scared the shit out of me.” he smiles and kisses your forehead, giggling a little before helping you make something to eat.

⇢ chan

chan has a habit of dancing around the house, and while he’s good at what he does he tends to bang himself up on the furniture... a lot. you come home one night, finding him on the living room floor with a bloody knee and a first aid kit.

“chan! what the hell did you do?” you rush over, grabbing some of the disinfectant wipes from the kit. as soon as you run it over the wound he winces, grabbing your wrist.

“i was practicing don’t wanna cry and when i fell to the floor for the chorus i hit my knee on the corner of the coffee table...” he explains with an embarrassed laugh. “really, baby, i’m fine. i can do it-“

before he can even finish protesting you’ve taken care of his knee, booped his nose and stood back up. he stares at you in awe. “what would i do without you?”

“die, probably.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #seventeen blurbs #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #hong jisoo #joshua hong #jeon wonwoo #moon junhui #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #svt #woozi #th8 #lee jihoon #lee seokmin #dk #dokyeom #kim mingyu #xu minghao #boo seungkwan #chwe vernon #choi hansol #dino #lee chan

[broomballkraken]

Title: Treasured Keepsakes

Fandom: Hades

Pairing(s): Charon/Hermes

Word count: 2223

Warnings: N/A

Summary: On the day of his first anniversary with Charon, Hermes shows up at the river Styx for business as usual, and to surprise his love with a gift. He did not expect anything in return, but Hermes should have known by now to expect the unexpected when it came to Charon.

Another day, another trip to the river Styx for Hermes, weighed down with souls ready to be taken to the underworld. The God of Swiftness had an extra sense of urgency as he raced through the skies towards his destination, for today was a special day; it was his and Charon’s first anniversary as a couple.

With a goofy grin plastered on his face, Hermes glanced back at his satchel, filled to the brim with messages and items of various importance that needed delivering. Nestled between all of that was a small box containing his anniversary gift for Charon, and Hermes was absolutely giddy with excitement to finally give it to him.

As he quickly approached their usual meeting place, Hermes' smile grew wider when he saw that Charon was already there. His tall, imposing figure was standing on his boat, his back to Hermes, and the trickster God’s smile morphed into a mischievous smirk. It wouldn’t hurt to have just a little bit of fun with his stoic lover.

Hermes slowed down as he approached Charon, making sure to fly as quietly as possible. Charon remained motionless, and seemed completely oblivious to Hermes’ presence. When Hermes was within arm’s reach, his hand shot out and grabbed Charon’s shoulder firmly.

“Surprise, Char-” Hermes started, but he was abruptly cut off when Charon took a step forward and spun around with alarming speed, swinging his oar at Hermes. The blade of the oar stopped only inches from Hermes’ face, and it was swung with such force that the wind it created ruffled his hair and the feathers on his head wings.

Hermes stared at the oar with wide eyes and his mouth slightly agape. What...What had just happened? Hermes blinked slowly before turning his gaze to Charon, and the way that his purple eyes were boring into him as he slowly lowered the oar made Hermes’ face go slightly pale. Charon...wasn’t mad, was he?

A low rumbling sound suddenly filled the air as Charon doubled over, clutching his chest and trembling slightly as purple smoke billowed from his mouth. Hermes jaw fell open even further, and he felt his face heat up considerably. Charon was laughing at him. Hermes snapped his jaw shut and brought a hand over his face, trying to keep himself from laughing too. He didn’t expect to be beaten at his own game, especially by Charon of all people.

When Hermes had first met him, he never would have guessed that Charon was hiding this kind of personality under that silent, intimidating outer shell of his. Even now, he still kept it mostly hidden, and Hermes felt incredibly blessed to be one of the few people who ever got to see his unguarded, playful side.

As Charon finally composed himself, Hermes pouted as he continued to hover in the air next to Charon’s boat.

“Charon!” he whined, slapping the back of his hand over his forehead dramatically and doing a backflip in the air, “I cannot believe that you’d do something so mean to someone as cute and innocent as yours truly!” Hermes had decided to conveniently ‘forget’ that he had started this by trying to surprise Charon first.

“You would have sent me flying all the way back to Olympus if you had actually hit me, with those massive, bulging arm muscles of yours!” A grin crossed Hermes’ face when Charon huffed and rolled his eyes before groaning out a response.

“Me? Dramatic? Oh, I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” Charon’s low, rumbling laughter filled the air again, and Hermes couldn’t help but laugh along with him. When they composed themselves, Charon gazed up at Hermes and held out his arms. Hermes let himself float down and settle right into Charon’s warm, secure embrace. Charon pulled Hermes close, cradling him against his chest, and Hermes wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I must admit, there was a split second where I thought you might actually hit me with that massive oar of yours. You’re lucky that you’re so charming and handsome, otherwise I may have been a little bit upset with you.” Hermes tapped Charon’s nose playfully when the latter let out a small, guilty groan. “Have you always been such a prankster? Or has my mischievous nature been rubbing off on you, hm?” Hermes nudged his way under Charon’s collar so that he could nuzzle his cheek against Charon’s neck, and he hummed when Hermes started trailing light kisses up his neck and along his jawline.

Charon turned his head when Hermes’ kisses reached his cheek, and a burst of purple smoke filled the air as Charon pressed his mouth to Hermes’ lips in a tender kiss. Hermes smiled as his hands slipped up to the side of Charon’s head, his fingers sliding through his lover’s soft hair. Hermes would never tire of the warm, fuzzy feeling that always spread through his chest whenever he kissed Charon, and he sometimes wished that they could stay like this forever.

When they eventually parted, a bright smile crossed Hermes face as he wriggled out of Charon’s arms. “Ah, that’s right! I have something for you, love!” Hermes knelt down on the boat and began rummaging through his overcrowded satchel, while Charon let out a confused groan. Hermes glanced over his shoulder, and found Charon watching him intently, and he let out a triumphant ‘ah ha!’ as he pulled out a small box and stood up.

“Happy Anniversary Charon!” Hermes was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement as he thrust the box at Charon, who stared at it with wide eyes. “Well, go on! Open it!”

A burst of purple smoke erupted from Charon’s mouth, and he let out a delighted groan as he took the box. It was black with a purple ribbon wrapped around it, and Hermes watched with bated breath as Charon carefully opened it and pulled out an orange and yellow feather. As Charon held it up to examine it, the green glow of the lambent plume cast an ambient light on his normally shadowed face, and the beautiful sight left Hermes speechless for once in his life. He felt his face flush and he shook his head to knock himself out of his trance.

“Surprise! It’s a feather from my very own wings!” Hermes pointed a finger up at the wing that sat on the right side of his head. “This one here, in fact! But, that feather isn’t just for show, you know! You may notice a bit of a pep in your step when you have it with you.”

Charon was still staring down at the feather in his hand, his expression unreadable, and Hermes felt a bit of sweat start to bead on his forehead. Oh no...what if Charon didn’t like it? Hermes’ stomach knotted up and he let out a nervous chuckle.

“It’s just, well...You’re always so busy, love, and you work so hard. I thought that this would help you get your work done faster so that you could relax more, but if you don’t like it, I’d understand-” Hermes’ rambling was cut off when he was suddenly engulfed in a massive cloud of purple smoke, and he let out a startled yelp when Charon wrapped his arms around Hermes and squeezed him tight as he hoisted him into the air.

“C-Charon...can’t...breath…” Hermes wheezed, but Charon only hugged him tighter, and Hermes squeaked out a laugh as he returned the hug. When Charon loosened his hold on him, Hermes placed his hands on his shoulders and looked down at Charon’s face. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat, and he raised a curious eyebrow.

A purple liquid had pooled in the corners of Charon’s eyes, and some of it had started to fall down his face. Hermes gawked at the sight, and he slowly lifted on hand up to cup Charon’s face.

“Charon, are you...crying?” Charon let out a shaky groan as Hermes gently brushed his thumb over his cheek, wiping away his tears. Hermes didn’t even think Charon could cry, so this was a rather shocking revelation. A soft smile crossed his face and he chuckled, pressing his forehead against Charon’s.

“Well, I hope these are happy tears, at least,” Hermes teased, and he burst out laughing when Charon hurriedly confirmed that with a slightly panicked groan.

“Oh, I know, I know. I was just teasing, love.” Hermes wiped away the rest of Charon’s tears and placed a quick kiss against his forehead. “I must say, it’s quite amazing that you’re beautiful even when you’re crying. Not many people can say the same, you know.”

Charon let out flustered noise and averted his gaze, pulling the brim of his hat down to cover his face. Hermes gazed at him fondly as Charon set him back onto his feet.

“I’m really glad that you liked the gift! Now, we should probably get these souls taken care of-” Hermes attempted to turn around, but he was stopped when Charon’s hand fell onto his shoulder. Turning back around, Hermes watched with a raised eyebrow as Charon reached under his robes and pulled out a small bag. It was not unlike the ones that Charon used to store his hoards of obols, but this particular bag looked to be made of a much nicer material, and it was tied off with a striking, orange ribbon.

“Is this...for me?” Hermes said slowly, and a smile slowly spread across his face when Charon nodded and held it out to him. “You didn’t have to get me anything!” Having said that, Hermes was incredibly happy that Charon did in fact get him something, and he took the bag and eagerly opened it.

“This is...oh wow…” Hermes’ eyes widened in awe when he pulled out the gift; it was a bone hourglass, with a small skull adorning the top. Purple smoke was drifting out of the left eye socket of the skull - very much like the ever-present trail of smoke that was always wafting from Charon’s mouth - and the sand was the exact same color. It was absolutely beautiful, and Hermes tried to swallow past the lump of emotion that had formed in his throat. Charon hummed and let out a string of groans, and Hermes’ eyes widened as he listened to his explanation of what this hourglass was exactly.

“This...This will help me keep track of how fast I can make my deliveries? Really?” Hermes asked slowly, and his eyes welled up with tears when Charon nodded. “I can’t believe you remembered me mentioning that…” It had been during one of their regular meetups to transfer souls. Hermes had been talking Charon’s ear off as usual, and he had made an offhand comment about how he wished that he knew exactly how fast he was at completing his various jobs. Hermes had jumped right into a different topic of conversation right after, so he was shocked that Charon had remembered that, let alone took the time to make him such a beautiful gift.

“Oh Charon, I absolutely adore this! Thank you so much, I will most certainly treasure it forever.” The tears that Hermes had been trying to hold back spilled down his face. “Ha, now you’ve got me crying happy tears too.” Charon let out an affectionate groan as he cupped Hermes face and leaned down, pressing his mouth against his damp cheeks and kissing away the tears. Hermes laughed, overjoyed at the fact that he had been blessed with such a thoughtful and caring partner as Charon, and he placed a quick kiss on the corner of Charon’s mouth.

“Hm, I think I should find a nice chain to attach this to,” Hermes said when they parted, and he carefully placed the hourglass back into the bag, “It should make a rather beautiful necklace, although not nearly as beautiful as the person who gave it to me!” Charon let out an embarrassed hum, but his actual feelings were betrayed by the large volume of smoke that suddenly burst forth from his mouth. A cheeky grin crossed Hermes’ face as he picked up the feather he had given Charon before hovering in the air in front of him.

“And I know the perfect spot for your feather!” Hermes said, reaching over to tuck the feather into Charon’s hat. Charon groaned in approval as he reached up to take one of Hermes’ hands in his, their fingers entwining automatically. Charon tugged Hermes towards him, and Hermes was gladly enveloped in his warm, comforting embrace once more.

“Happy one year, Charon,” Hermes whispered as he wrapped his arms around Charon and pressed their foreheads together, “I’m looking forward to many, many more with you. I love you, more than words could possibly say. And I do know my fair share of words.” Hermes smiled when Charon laughed, and he groaned out an ‘I love you too.’ They kissed again, and again, and many more times as they continued to enjoy each other’s company on this special day. Hermes knew that no matter what the Fates had in store for them, he would always treasure the love that he held for Charon, and he knew that Charon felt exactly the same way.

#hades game #charon #hermes #charon/hermes #fanfiction #lord help me i'm already back on my bullshit #jade writes fanfiction

[itstittycitybaby]

May Death do Us Part (Benrey/Gordon Freeman)

A/N: ahaha im a bit nervous to post this one ngl but fuck it might as well give it a shot. if you haven’t seen hlvrai please do it’s so good and so fucking funny. Thank you @kryogie for helping me with this fic! I really appreciate it bro.

Warnings:angst,suicidal thoughts,suicide attempt,hurt/comfort,dissociation.

Benrey couldn’t die. Anyone else would be ecstatic to know that they could out run the hounds of death. Gordon’s apartment was dark that night. He’d mention earlier that morning picking up another shift, so he’d be home later. The silence was deafening as Benrey stared at the bright T.V. screen. His thoughts felt like he was dragging through quick sand and his brain lagged. “not pog. cringeworthy moments right here,” Benrey murmured to himself as a CPU beat his ass on Smash. Sonic, the one Benrey mains, looked glum as he clapped for Bowser. It was suffocating; the silence and the distant but also bright colours of the T.V. The switch hummed faintly but Benrey had trouble focusing on it. 

He hated the quiet. Whenever it was quiet the guilt came rushing back. The memories of Black Mesa were fuzzy but Benrey couldn’t forget what he had done. His hand laid there on the cold cement ground as Gordon cried out in pain in the dark. His form being dragged by three soldiers as they left him to die. Benrey could faintly see the blood as Tommy started to cry.

“N-no! What are they d-doing to Mr. Freeman?”

Benrey choked on his breath; his chest felt tight and his throat contracted harshly. The whispers of the dark swirled around him and laid on his trembling form thickly. The T.V. that sat on its stand became blurry and Benrey felt as if he were sinking.

He couldn’t move. The soldiers around them paid him no mind. They laughed and carried on like nothing had happened. After all, Benrey’s job was done righ? This is what he had wanted?

“calm down,” Benrey told himself. “this..this is baby behaviour...we’re supposed to be..epic gamer....” Gordon had moved on from Black Mesa. Or so he told himself anyway. His arm was back, something Tommy’s dad had fixed. Even with his hand being back, Benrey could see the underlying anxiety Gordon had. He could see it in the way Gordon fidgeted and jumped at every loud noise. He couldn’t blame him at all. This was all his fault. He had always enjoyed making Gordon irritated. It was funny and entertaining but he had taken it too far.

Benrey knew he didn’t deserve Gordon’s kindness. He didn’t have to let Benrey in his apartment as the rain poured that night. Gordon was anxious and still held some malice towards him, but Benrey could see his big brown eyes soften with concern as he saw the blood seeping through his security shirt. Gordon was insistent on tending his wounds even though he knew Benrey couldn’t die. Something Benrey still couldn’t wrap his head around to this day.

How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? Benrey couldn’t tell but the thoughts were getting louder and louder as he sat there on the couch. He had to do something. His limbs didn’t feel like moving but he wiggled them as a test. They felt sluggish and heavy but Benrey eventually got a leg off the couch. He deserved this didn’t he? He deserved the pain and despair of the aftermath. It’s what he caused after all. So why was it so hard to move on?

“wasn’t suppos’ to be..like this,” Benrey mumbled one night as the both of them sat in front of the T.V. Some stupid rom com played. Pretty and Pink, was it? Gordon didn’t say anything but his brows furrowed. “What?” Benrey huffed. “can’t hear me feetman?..gordon freeman??more like.. gordon deafman haha...can’t even hear his bro talking to him..” Gordon rolled his eyes and sighed. “Can you ever talk seriously?” “yea...I tried but deafman couldn’t hear me....” Gordon just snorted, picking up the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. “Whatever man just watch the movie.” Benrey could see a small smile on Gordon’s plush lips. It made his heart flutter.

The balcony felt cold underneath Benrey’s feet. Gordon’s apartment was high enough that he’d smack on the concrete and die from the impact. Sure, he’d resurrect again, but it helped with the pain. All the emotions swirled around him and bit at his gut. It was an endless torture of not being able to be at peace. People saw the ability of never being able to die a blessing. Hell, they would kill for it. Benrey saw it as a curse. It was perfect for him and the thought made him laugh hollowly. It was raining again and the air nipped at his toes and fingers. The wind made his skin numb from the cold. He laughed at the clicheness of it all. Like some damn cheesy RPG game where the main character hit his low. The sky wept with Benrey’s misery.

Benrey’s fists clenched tightly on the balcony. The metal railing was cold to the touch and the water made it a bit slippery. The laughter wheezed out of his chest. Was he crying? His tears felt hot;His arms felt slackish and unbearably slow.”c-could end everything r-right now....little feetman wouldn’t have to...p-put up with me anymore...i’ll just respawn like a gamer and...keep d-doing it....” Maybe one day he’d disappear. Maybe he’d actually stay dead. Benrey cackled at the thought. It was wishful thinking, he knew it. Yet, he couldn’t help but think of the science team. What if he actually stayed dead? Tommy would cry and wail like a good friend. He cared about Benrey even after all the shit he put them through. Dr. Coomer might be a little sad but would be back in no time. Bubby..well Bubby was and always will be a wild card. Benrey’s heart lurched when he thought about Gordon. The science team never worried too much when Benrey died but this was different entirely. Benrey wanted to die. Would they even care? Gray orbs left his mouth as he remincised over what he had done. He had fucked up and couldn’t forgive himself. How could he when he had hurt the man he liked. 

Gripping the railing for support, Benrey balanced himself onto it. Carefully, he stood up on it. His stomach lurched with anxiety as he looked down. Cars honked and people walked among the sidewalks blissfully unaware. Benrey couldn’t help but think about if his head smacked onto the pavement. How traumatized innocent bystanders would be and if they would tried to help. Was it wrong that he couldn’t find himself to care?

“Benrey!” He jumped in surprise, causing him to teeter on the railing. His arms waved and so did his fingers for balance. A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him onto the balcony floor. Benrey let out a hiss as his back made contact with its cement floor. He cursed once he realized who prevented him from jumping off the balcony and ending his misery for a short awhile. “W-what the fuck man?!” Gordon Freeman hovered over Benrey. His glasses were speckled from the rain and his hair that was pulled up was starting to get damp. His brown eyes were wide and..was he crying? The waves of guilt that were already washing Benrey away were now crashing to the surface. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He looked so afraid and hurt. Benrey averted his gaze. “L-let’s get you inside,” Gordon said, mostly to himself. He was trying to reassure himself, Benrey noticed, as he helped him up. Gordon’s hand wrapped tightly around his as he lead him back into his apartment. God, Benrey felt so damn guilty. He just wanted to die for a bit and be nothing. It only lasted for a couple hours before he came back but the seemingly never ending darkness called to him. It called for him to come home. Benrey could barely register a fluffly towel being wrapped around his quivering frame. His clothing clung to his skin in a gross way and he felt cold and warm at the same time. There were groceries and a pack of Moutain Dew on the kitchen isalnd. Benrey’s favorite.

Gordon ran a hand through his hair. A nervous tick he had which didn’t help Benrey’s guilt at all. “’m...s-sorry,” Benrey choked out. “weren’t suppose...to see that.” Gordon’s head shot up. His brown eyes wavered as he looked into Benrey’s seemingly cold black ones. “No man don’t a-apologize. I-If I had known...” Gordon trailed off. Benrey shook his head. “n-not just for that feetman...for everything..” His lip quivered and he dropped Gordon’s gaze. Finally, he had said what he’d been keeping in for so long. “Is that why you tried t-to..do that?” Gordon gestured to the balcony. Benrey nodded. Gordon let out a shaky sigh. “L-look man.. I’ve already forgiven you. I care about you and...I worry about you Benrey..I l-lo-” Benrey’s eyes widened. Gordon’s cheeks heated up and he swallowed thickly. “..wha?..” “U-um,” Gordon stuttered, eyes averting anything close to Benrey. “U-uh..fuck it man! I like you alright? I-I.. love you after all these months! I was gonna tell you but... I-I didn’t think you’d feel the same.. Now of all times isn’t g-good to tell you either.” Benrey stood there stunned. 

Gordon swallowed nervously as he waited silently. Benrey’s silence and his stare didn’t help Gordon in the slightest. “L-look man if you don’t feel that way it’s fine. I’m more concerned about you though...I-I have a friend who’s a therapist! S-she’s great and she-” Gordon got caught off by soft lips against his own. His eyes widened but when Benrey clutched tightly into his shirt, he kissed back. 

Gordon cracked a smile once they pulled away. “I-I don’t wanna pressure you into anything while in this state...so I-I understand if you don’t wanna g-get into anything-”  Benrey cut Gordon off with another kiss. They were a bit cold and damp from standing in the rain. “y-you’re my gamer boyfriend now feetman..” Gordon barked a laugh as he pulled away. “I still want you to get help though okay? I want to help you through this.” Benrey nodded, “i-i’ll try bro....i’ll try.” Satisfied, Gordon beckoned to the couch. “Wanna play some video games or something?” Benrey nodded, already shuffling to the couch. 

After Gordon put the groceries away and grabbed Benrey a can of Moutain Dew and his so called “gamer snacks”, he joined him on the couch. “Can I,” Gordon asked, hovering his arm over Benrey’s shoulders. He nodded and as soon as Gordon wrapped his arm around him, Benrey nestled into his side. They both smiled as they basked in each other’s presence and played Heavenly Sword. Tomorrow will be a better day.

#hlvrai #half life but the ai are self aware #gordon freeman #benrey #angst #fan fiction #fanfic #hurt/comfort

[jjba-arni-reblog]

Games and chill

[The last raffle work for @triggs-jpg. This one is streamer/youtuber AU with multiple small stories of you and your group trying different games. Implied Kakyoin/reader relationship. I wrote for a variety of  games I know and played myself.Thank you]

Pairing: Kakyoin/reader.

Time: wholesome AU(?), present times, ages not specified.

Words: ~ 3.1K

[Uno]

The idea to play Uno was going to be either a blessing or a curse. But it was an idea nonetheless and you and Noriaki asked Jotaro, Polnareff and even Dio if they want to participate in a video. Polnareff eagerly accepted the offer, asking if he needs anything to buy for the small ‘party’ you were to have. Jean even asked if he could bring Iggy to the party. Even if the dog wasn’t the friendliest one, he was sure eager to get free food from your group. He knew that you and Kakyoin would be the ones to spoil him. Jotaro was reluctant at first, not quiet used to being recorded but upon hearing that Dio himself accepted the offer, the man became interested in annoying Brando. Dio Brando himself accepted rather quickly, mostly to advertise himself as well as hopefully annoy Kujo.

And so your group placed different snacks on the big table, getting comfortable for the first round of Uno. The rules allowed to pretty much ‘spam’ anyone with cards, whether based on color or number. After eating all the cola flavoured gum since Polnareff forgot to hide it well enough, Iggy decided to sleep next to you, not quick eager to disturb the game today.

~

“Another 4” you said, choosing a card to place down, quickly starting to annoy Jotaro who was the one to receive it. You could only evilly chuckle as the man was so close to winning, only to lose his chance right away.

“And another” Kakyoin suddenly joined in, adding to the annoyance of Kujo.

“Okay, you can stop now” Jotaro said, hoping to not provoke any more actions from you two. At this point, he had 10 cards already. And before that he had 2 cards, hoping to win.

“And here is more” Pol put the nail in the coffin, laughing as more cards appeared in Jotaro’s ‘hand’

“What the fuck are you doing?” the latter spoke angrily as your group laughed.

“Winning, unlike you” Dio answered proudly while looking at his cards. He only had 2 left and the man was pretty confident.

As Dio was approaching victory rather quickly, he became more relaxed. Trying to get rid of the one of the two remaining cards, he was quickly shut down by Jotaro, whose hand represented a fan due to how many cards did he have. At least he would have fun this way.

“Un-“  Brando was about to say.

“I don’t think so, bitch” Jotaro cut him off as the blonde scoffed at him, getting two cards from the desk.

“We’ll see about that” Dio glanced at him, smirking a little at the clear contrast between them.

At the end, Polnareff won the match. Kujo was fine with that, as long as it wasn’t Dio it was alright.  

~

“Okay, new game, new rules. Whoever will win will decide on the dinner” Kakyoin announced, getting comfortable near you. Polnareff went to get a drink, urging you four to play without him. Iggy, hearing the footsteps towards the kitchen, quickly woke up in hopes to get a treat from Jean.

“Also, check if the camera is recording” You told Jean, hearing the man mumble the answer. Jotaro was quick to glance at you, as if an unspoken plan appeared in your minds. You quickly nodded, understanding what the man had meant, silently agreeing with it.

“It’s recording” Jean notified the group, now sitting on the couch with his drink, watching over you four.

“Skip” you said, placing the card to annoy Dio who sat next to you. You felt Kakyoin nudge your shoulder, praising your actions and smiling widely.

Next was Jotaro’s turn. The man placed the same type of card, only in a different color, his face without emotions.

“Same” he simply said, not commenting on the surprised gasp that Kakyoin let out. He wasn’t expecting such betrayal from his friend.

“Again” you put another ‘skip’ card, making Dio growl irritated at another lost chance for him.

“Another” Jotaro continue, placing one more ‘skip’ card. At this point, Dio and Kakyoin started to worry about their chances of winning.

“Since when you two work together to be a pain in the ass?” Dio asked, glancing at you two. Noriaki could only nod, not quite on the same aggressive level as Brando.

“Since you announced the that the winner will decide what to eat” you answered, looking over your cards, hoping to win at the end.

“I am tired of cherries and wine for dinner” Kujo rolled his eyes as you chuckled at his typical straight forwardness.

“Hey” Kakyoin objected, then turning his eyes towards you “can’t believe I have been betrayed by you of all people” he said dramatically clutching his chest.

“Well, no mercy” you winked, getting comfortable, hoping to eat something different for once. As long as you and Jotaro worked together. Polnareff was equally as interested in the game, watching as the tension got stronger around you four. He was having fun, watching as you tried to outsmart each other. Iggy joined him, getting ready for another nap.

Somehow, you and Jotaro managed to win, gaining yourself a healthy meal for once. Kakyoin, still ordered himself a cherry desert, teasing you about not sharing. Another evening well-spent.

~

[Minecraft]

Playing something as relaxing and nostalgic has been on your mind for a while. It is nice to have a gaming series where you can just all relax and have fun. Minecraft was a nice start for that. Kakyoin himself was quite eager to delve back into the known game, messaging your group, asking if they want to play with you two. And so the group reunited once again.

Surprisingly, Dio knew how to play it. He reluctantly admitted to playing the game with Jonathan when he was younger, even if the primal reason for it was to purely annoy Joestar kid.

You had to explain Pol and Jotaro how to play, while Kakyoin was getting the first resources. Dio was complaining as usual. It took you five a while to get situated, choosing a nice and cosy place in the woods. Dio insisted on building a big mansion. By ‘insisted’ he meant that ‘someone should build it and he, Dio Brando, will decorate it with his fine and precise sense of style’. Kakyoin then told him that dirt house would accompany Brando just as well, earning couple of swears from the blonde.

~

As time went on, the five of you established a nice and somewhat big place, each one of you having your own rooms. Jean got himself a dog, after hearing that you could turn some animals into pets. Jotaro was enjoying the soundtrack, mostly killing mobs and travelling whenever he wished. Brando was pretty much useless after getting the mansion built, instead now focusing on the décor of the house, pretty much making it a banana house using bright colors. Overall, it was a nice experience for your group

~

One evening, while everyone was off, Dio was playing on the server. Suddenly he had a random idea to push Jean’s dog a little bit closer to the open fire. Not really expecting it to actually burn, Dio ended up killing the dog by pushing it into the fire.

“Damn, this feels awfully familiar…” Dio mumbled to himself, not quite sure what was it that made is so particularly familiar. After realizing what he has done, the blonde was quick to place a sign on the wall next to the open fire.

Killed your dog, lol -   Dio xoxo

Later Jean destroyed his room, making Dio rage quit playing Minecraft for a week.

~

“Would you like to befriend a cat” You asked Dio next week, after he returned to the server. The man was facing the multiple cats scattered across the village.

“I am not a cat person” Brando answered, scoffing at your suggestion. Nothing unusual.

“You are nobody’s person to be fair” you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, go to hell” Dio replied, earning a snarky laugh from you. How typical of him.

“Okay, how do I make the cat my friend?” Polnareff suddenly asked, after hearing the delightful information from you. Hopefully, this pet will survive.

~

“There are also dolphins, turtles, coral reefs and tropical fishes by the way” Kakyoin mentioned to the group but most importantly to Jojo. He tried not to show any reaction.

“Whatever” Jotaro answered. However, you knew better.

After a couple of minutes, you heard Kujo speak again.

“So where are they?”

~

“Hey, Dio, I decorated your room a little, hope you will like it” Kakyoin casually mentioned, making you look at his screen. He winked, noticing the mischievous look you had. You were absolutely loving his idea.

“Don’t you dare pull off something or I will end you, Kakyoin” Dio said, not quite liking the tone he had. He decided to check it out later as he wasn’t playing for now.

Later when Dio arrived at his ‘mansion’, he opened the door, seeing a small flag on the wall together with a sign that said:

‘Don’t ever forget your origins’ - Kak

Seeing the flag, Dio found himself greatly annoyed. It was a flag of Scotland after all.

Brando was quick to open up Discord the type in ‘I am not from Scotland, you moron’, earning quite the reaction from the two of you. It was worth it.

~

Today, Brando seemed to be in a good mood, which made your group question what caused such effect on the usual annoyed Dio. But good Brando was the key to a good stream and communication. That is, until Jotaro noticed blonde being quite cocky.

“Hey, Dio” Jotaro’s tired voice called for the blonde as the group was in the voice chat. You and Kakyoin didn’t pay much attention to the conversation, instead checking if the recording program worked as well as the game.

“What?” the man answered, already feeling himself getting annoyed just from listening to Kujo’s voice

“You got mfat?” Jotaro asked emotionlessly as you and Kak suddenly stopped chatting. You knew where this was going, and you couldn’t get more excited.

“What?” Dio became more annoyed. Everyone else was suspiciously silent “What is mfat?” he asked, half-confused, half-tired of Jotaro’s shit.

“My fat dick in your mouth” the man answered, making the group burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe you felt for that, Brando” you said, laughing together with Noriaki.

“Fuck off, Kujo, go fuck yourself” Dio angrily answered, almost yelling.

~

[Hatoful boyfriend]

Today, you had something different planned. You were supposed to stream with Kakyoin for a while, however you decided to start a little bit earlier to try a new game. Today, you decided to stream a dating sim game. A bird dating game. Hatoful boyfriend. You checked if the equipment properly worked, then greeting the audience and introducing the plan for the next video. At first, you were amused and laughed everything off, joking about the dialogue lines and interactions as the chat noted the weird vibe the game was giving off. However, later, you felt yourself being immersed in the gameplay that Hatoful Boyfriend had to offer. The chat was as equally interested, commenting both ironically and unironically about the ‘hotness’ of each bird.

You were enjoying yourself, when you heard a door being open as the voice called for you.

“Did you see-” Kakyoin stopped in his tracks, noticing the equipment “Ah, shit, sorry” he was quick to apologize, then noticing your pc screen.

“What are you doing?” he approached you, looking at the screen with a puffy bird on it. He sat down next to you to fully absorb the image before him, baffled at the weird choice of a game.

“Well…” you chuckled, not even trying to explain yourself. You could the chat being as equally interested in Kakyoin’s reaction as you were.

“Am I not enough?” he suddenly dramatically asked, hiding his face behind a hand and striking the most bizarre and dramatic poses of them all while leaning back on the chair.

“Are you a bird?” you decided to tease Noriaki, raising an eyebrow at his question.

“No?” he was confused of what to say to this, chuckling confusedly.

“You just answered your own question” you simply answered, turning back to your lovely bird boyfriends, while Kakyoin stared at you for a couple of seconds.

“Wait a minute”

The chat was full of ‘F’s to show respect to the fallen soldier who lost against birds.

~

[Cuphead]

Your group was up for a challenge. You decided to try out Cuphead. Seeing the lovely artstyle and hoping that the game might spice up the recording/stream, you were eager to try it out. After multiple hours of practice, you felt yourself getting better at the game. Kakyoin was also catching up pretty quick, asking when weapons do you use for certain bosses.

“You can use parry to get it quicker” you explained to him.

“Ah, alright, got it” Noriaki smiled at you, hugging you closer as you two relaxed together. You still had couple of hours before the stream, so you decided to make the best out of it. While streaming was fun, occasional quiet hour was equally as important. You two simply lied down, talking about preparations and everything that came to mind. You felt him nuzzle your neck as he hugged you closer.

“Don’t fall asleep on me here, Nori” You brushed your hands through his soft locks.

“Then just wake me up before the stream” he half mumbled.

“Are you going to complain afterwards?”

“Yes, but I will wake up” Kakyoin answered back, chuckling a little.

After couple of minutes, you decided to speak. It seems like Kakyoin wasn’t going to sleep anyways.

“5 dollars on Dio rage quitting the game”

“10 if he will break something afterwards” Kakyoin answered back, excited by the idea of seeing someone get angry.

“Deal” you two shook hands while giggling. It was always fun to bet on stuff like that.

~

Dio wasn’t very good at the game, to say the least. The man didn’t have patience, always trying to rush forwards and eventually dying without reaching the end or killing the boss. Somehow he managed to beat the first world, proclaiming that he is getting ‘so much better’. The next boss he chose whoever, was getting on his nerves.

“Fuck this piece of shit clown” Dio growled, getting fed up with endless dying,

“That’s quite the self-love here” you answered back, hearing Polnareff and Kakyoin laugh.

“Shut up” Brando could only curse at you, replaying the level once again.

~

Jotaro being Jotaro, didn’t really get the excitement and panic over playing Cuphead, instead he was grumpy at the endless amounts of swears from dying.

“Why bother with the game if you lose so much anyway” he asked.

“That’s what games are for, Jotaro” You explained to him, not really wanting to waste your time to prove him wrong.

“Go try it yourself, Kujo” Kakyoin said “show us the results later” he teased the man, knowing that Kujo would eventually try the game.

“Will do” Jotaro answered, not bothering to continue watching

~

About two days later, you get a message in the group chat.

‘I broke my screen’ Kujo wrote. It was followed by multiple ‘lmao’s from you and Kakyoin, because of course he did.

‘You WHAT?’ came the message from Pol.

‘I broke it, alright, now stop asking’

After that, Kujo had to endure a week of teasing from your group, once again establishing himself as an ‘angsty’ man…together with Dio that is.

~

[Nekojishi]

“Hey, Nori, what are you doing there?” you asked, opening the door to see what he was up to.

“Ah, just playing a small novel game” Noriaki explained, hoping that you won’t be interested in further inspection of the said game. However, seeing the chat being exited you had your doubts.  Deciding against prying and finding out for now, you left the man alone.

That was the part of the plan. As you waited for Kakyoin to go grab himself water, you quickly entered the room once again, greeting the audience and reading the text that was on the screen, so far it seemed like a normal game. The aspects of the talks were mostly about sacred placed, which made you slightly confused. That is, until you found one of the characters, just as Kakyoin returned with his drink.

“Hey, oh…” he stopped, standing still as you eyed the screen.

“Kakyoin” your tone was serious.

“Yes?”

“Why is there a buffed tiger?” you turned towards him, chuckling at the confused look he had.  This wasn’t what you had expected.

“Well, first of all, guardian tiger” he corrected you out of nowhere, now approaching and sitting next to you “second, Lin Hu and third, I am trying to take his route and get the ending” Noriaki finished.

“So I guess you are a cat person, huh?” you asked, turning towards the tiger to take a good look once again.

“Well, certainly not a bird person” Kak commented back as you two laughed.

“Alright, you got me there. Go have fun with your tiger” you rolled your eyes a little, standing up to brush Kakyoin’s hair affectionately before taking your leave.

Seeing the chat enjoying the interaction you two had, Kakyoin couldn’t help but to note.

“Okay, I am not VERY into this game of course” he tried to find a small excuse for himself “but there is something about this guardian tiger…” He mumbled to himself, eyeing the buffed catman before him.

The chat quickly typed multiple Fs for your defeat against the buff tiger.

~

[Broforce]

Having the game named Broforce, you just had to engage in the whole ‘bro’ atmosphere to fully experience the game. So you and Kakyoin joined the voice channel, getting ready to play this indie game and checking the equipment. You decided to record this let’s play instead of streaming.  Jotaro and Jean had other plans today and Dio was nowhere to be seen. You two decided to join the group voice channel, not really expecting anyone to appear. Rushing through the game, you didn’t notice that Dio joined the voice channel. Not until he asked you about the next stream. You two decided to joke a little to slightly annoy Brando.

“Bro, I got you” you said with a deep voice, killing the enemy that almost shot Kakyoin.

“Thank you, Bro” he answered back, mimicking your low voice.

“Bro, no problem”

“Appreciate it, bro”

“Can you shut the fuck up with your bro shit?” Dio suddenly spoke up, annoyed at the whole ‘bro’ act you two pulled off.

“Damn, chill bro” you said back, earning a chuckle from Kakyoin.

Dio could only growl, exiting the voice channel in hopes of not hearing any more of that. Not today.

#kakyoin x reader #jjba x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba #jojo x reader #jojo scenarios #jojo headcanons #jojo's bizarre adventure

[joon-ipersgirl]

O2 - “airplane”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cursing

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin.

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it a home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own. 

a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but enamoured by his understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

a/n: whew! we made it to part two. thanks for sticking with me y’all. we get to see a little more banter with jimin. thank you again for reading and hopefully i’ll get the next part out on time for y’all. leave a comment with some feedback; i love receiving them. have a wonderful rest of your day/evening/night and thank you vi for being my editor in chief as always!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

You could only thank your sweet Lord and Savior for blessing you to fly on an aircraft that had some semblance of high-speed data. There was only so much one could do with the airplane monitors to keep yourself entertained - if the flight you were on had them. Skimming through your email, you stared skeptically at the most recent one from Michael. Hadn’t you just spoken this morning?

Y/N,

I assume that your meticulous planning has failed you for once in your brilliant life and you were late to catch your flight so you didn’t have time to check your phone as you would not purposely ignore a text from me. Gods be with you during this time - I have taken a moment of silence as I pray for your divinely placed gift to be restored upon you.

Onto more pressing matters, Julia has sent me an updated list of the things they expect to see in this video; please see attached. Because I have so earnestly prayed for your skills to be returned to you, I have full confidence in your ability to work through these minor inconveniences.  

Just because I know you missed my text, I’ll say it again: remember the passion! Enjoy the moment.

Yours eternally,

Michael  

P.S. Garland Sans has an exhibit coming to the MET! We must go!

You snorted. Michael was as ingenious as he was dramatic. One of the best in the management game, Michael was sought after to solve the worst of problems when regular members of his team couldn’t in his own consulting company, Callahan Consulting. His personality was infectious and made one want to strive above and beyond for his approval. It surprised you every time that you were partners and he was your manager as declared by himself. As they say, opposites really do attract.

Clicking on the files attached in the email, you groaned softly as you realized that though the wifi was available, it wasn’t strong enough to access any large multimedia files, the downloading circle on a seemingly never-ending loop. You sank further into the seat, your knees hitting the one in front of you due to the cramped economy design. Your fingers slipped easily through your short locks as you tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you couldn’t see what changes you’d made. It’s not like you’d have to potentially rework your entire itinerary for the trip the moment you landed. You scrunched your eyes shut as you tugged on the roots of your hair in an effort to quiet your increasing anxiety. The softest of touches against your knee jerked you upright.

“Are you alright?” You gazed down at the hand splayed across your leg, eyes wide. It squeezed and you finally turned your eyes towards its owner.

“What are you doing?” you asked hurriedly, tugging your headphones off. The weight of his hand, though not physically heavy, metaphysically felt like it was anchoring you to your seat and you wouldn’t be able to move it yourself even if you tried.

“Are you alright?” stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment repeated. “You looked like you were in pain,” he trailed off, finally removing his hand. You slumped over in relief on your exhale.

“Fine,” you replied curtly. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you shifted in your seat. His long legs seemed precariously too close to your own in the compact space.

“Are you sure? I can call an attendant -”

“No!”

“What are you doing?” he murmured, eyebrows raised and amused. Looking like any stubby child hanging off of the monkey bars, you were clutching onto his forearm and yanking down with all your might to stop him from pushing the call attendant button above you. The muscles under his forearm flexed as stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment lowered his arm against the armrest. You blinked slowly as the realization that you were still holding onto him traveled to your central nervous system and you let go as quickly as you’d clung onto him.

“Nothing!” you inhaled deeply. “Seriously, I’m fine. You don’t need to call anyone,” you told him sternly. You turned back to your laptop and opened your 0618 Bali Itinerary document; adjusting your plans would calm the thumping in your chest. You could handle the anxiety of trying to edit the document blindly, but handling his apparent concern over your physical well-being was another story you weren’t prepared to read. He hummed in acknowledgment and settled back down in his seat, eyes focused on the book in his hand. How he managed to fit in any seat was a miracle.

“What are you doing in Bali?” he asked casually. He didn’t look at you as you turned to him.

“Nosy aren’t we?” you  replied in the same tone, eyes challenging. Your eyes met, a glimmer in his.

“Hmm?”

“How did you know I was going to Bali?” you contested.

“Well, I would hope you didn’t board the wrong flight - though you don’t strike me as the woman to make that kind of mistake,” a soft smirk graced his lips. You bit your lip hard.

“Well, I could have been getting off at the Hong Kong connection,” you said, trying to counter.

‘True, but you confirmed that you were going to Bali when you asked how I knew that. I was just assuming before,” he replied with a shrug and a soft grin. You tongued your cheek in annoyance at his observation.

“Right,” you mumbled. You yanked your headphones back over your ears, cutting off the ability to continue the conversation for both your sakes. Only 13 hours and 25 minutes to go.

Your Fujifilm camera felt light in your hands as you recorded a few minutes of the passing clouds. Capturing the changes in the sun during the duration of the flight seemed like a simple task, but balancing the light and adjusting the colors so they came through as vibrant as what they really were was difficult. These would be the first shots seen and they had to evoke the right feeling - the passion that Michael and Julia were looking for. Your passion for your work, for your art, for your life. You stifled your groan, not wanting to cause panic in your concerned neighbor again. You frowned as you stared down at the short video you’d taken; the focus wasn’t as sharp as it needed to be. Turning to the interior of the plane, you held the camera back up to your eye trying to get it to focus.

“If you wanted me to be your muse, all you had to do was ask,” he said with a chuckle. “I won’t even charge you for taking the shot.” The corners of your mouth turned down further.

“You’re not my muse. I’m trying to refocus my camera. You just so happen to be in the way,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I seem to always be getting in the way huh?” He leaned further back in his seat as he turned his head towards me, the sunlight hitting his face so gently. You bit your lip and fiddled with the AF fine-tune again. “First it was your seat, now with your shot. What are you going to do with me?” he asked with a fake sigh of contriteness. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics and took another test shot, the corner of his face creeping into the frame.

“Absolutely nothing,” you told him, adjusting the calibration once again. He moved closer as you snapped another test shot. His olive skin glowed under the mellow rays of the afternoon sun filtering in and his smile filled the small screen of your camera.

“Would you like some help?” he offered as he noticed the slight tremble in your fingers.

“I don’t need your help,” you mumbled.

“Are you sure?” he asked again. “You’re adjusting your AF fine-tune, but you’re in the wrong AF mode. Any adjustments you make wouldn’t have a significant effect if you’re shooting the inside of the plane.”

Stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment slipped your camera out of your hands, his fingers brushing against yours, and flipped modes quite expertly as the blood rushed up your neck and into your face. The sounds of your breathing echoed in your ears as you could not believe you’d made a fool of myself in front of him for the fourth time now. Michael must have been right when he said your previous abilities had left, the stress of this upcoming project getting the better of you. It had to be.

“Are you a photographer?” you asked. He took his own test shots, double-checking his adjustments.

“Here and there,” he replied nonchalantly. “I have a few friends in the industry and I dabble in a little bit of art myself. A hobby really,” he continued, snapping his last one of you before handing the camera back. You nodded your thanks and tucked the camera back into its bag; your nerves were too shot to continue. You could probably edit the footage to be better anyway.

“Excuse me, are you Park Jimin?” An attendant appeared with a tiny cart filled with food, her petite frame barely visible from behind it. Jimin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Here’s your vegetarian lunch, sir. Please enjoy,” she told him as she set the tray down in front of him. Her reach was far more extended than it needed to be and you internally scoffed at her not so subtle attempt to flirt. He smiled and thanked her before turning his attention to the steaming plastic bowl in front of him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a vegetarian,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think about pegging often?” Jimin’s smile was innocent but his gaze was not. Your eyes widened comically slow as you realized what he was suggesting.

“No! Not at all! What are you talking about?! I would never -” you spluttered out, hands waving frantically in front of you “- I mean, if you’re into that, then that’s great. I’m not judging you at all!” His laugh cut off your backtracked rambling. It was boisterous and loud and filled up the entire space between us as he tipped his head back, clearly delighted by your discomfort. It hurt your ears but made your heart jump. “Please stop laughing at me, Jimin.”

He hummed an “okay” and filled his mouth with another large bite of what you assumed to be vegetarian lasagna. Your  eyes fell to his plump lips as you watched him, his jaw moving almost rhythmically as you counted each chew to ground yourself into the present moment. 7, before he swallowed. It was only the tiny flicker of his tongue against his bottom lip that reminded you that you were staring at him. Again. You busied myself with the in-flight monitor screen, extremely fascinated by the current flight path.

“So, are you going to tell me your name?” You raised your eyebrows at his question.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said with a smile.

“Why not?” Your smile widened as you felt like you finally had the upper hand, something that he seemed to continuously have.

“Why should I?”

“Well, you know what my name is. I think it’s only fair that I have yours as well. What else would be appropriate to call you other than your name?” He asked thoughtfully as he pointed his fork towards you, the mischievous glint never really leaving his deep brown eyes.

“Are you going to stab me with your fork if I don't tell you?” He lowered it sheepishly. “Besides, you didn’t tell me your name, Mr. Park. That nice flight attendant did,” you said with a shrug. “So technically, fairness isn’t a part of this equation. The odds just so happened to be in my favor.”

“‘May the odds ever be in your favor’, my ass. Alright, fine.” Jimin peered around your seat, leaning over into your space while nearly knocking his food off its tray, trying to find any semblance of a clue to what your name could be. He sat back and directly faced you, almost folding his body underneath the tray table to do so. You ignored the way his knee bumped against the outside of your thigh.

“Give me a hint,” he pouted. You giggled as his lower lip jutted out.

“You’re too big to use the puppy dog face against anyone,” you informed him with a laugh. Even if it was cute. You hauled your beanie off your head and wrenched your hands through your hair.

“Just call me Clifford,” he teased. He perked up, an imaginary lightbulb going off in his head. “Elizabeth! Is that your name?”

“No,” His shoulders slumped. “But it could have an ‘a’ in it,” you commented casually. His shoulders rallied at the small hint.

“Don’t worry Shutterfly, I’m going to figure it out. Promise.” He beamed at you and you offered a half-smile in return, your attention more focused on the attendants bringing the rest of the food to passengers as you pondered over his words. Promises were made to be broken, filling you with disappointment and regret. In fact, they only served as false assists in the game of life and you’d stopped playing a very long time ago.

The cabin became pleasantly quiet after dinner was served, the passengers settling down for the night. It was cold and you were grateful for the hoodie you’d folded into your bag, the thin airplane blanket not doing much to keep you warm. Your Saipan video was pulled up on your laptop again and you longed to be in the warmth of the beach. Adele would always know when you’d been out in the sun for too long, more freckles dancing their way across your cheeks as your tell-tale sign, but it never stopped you. You smiled at the memories of busted knees and skinned elbows from being too adventurous with friends during the summer.

Nursing your cold cup of coffee, you sighed in exasperation as you felt the strong urge to use the bathroom. Of course, it would only be fair that your favorite drink was also a diuretic. You chewed your lip as you contemplated how exactly you were going to make it out of your seat without disturbing Jimin who was comfortably sleeping beside you, his arms folded and face hidden in the confines of his hood. He looked peaceful and you felt guilty for even thinking about waking him up. If you went to sleep now, maybe you could hold it? You squirmed in your seat as your bladder protested profusely at the thought. It was now or never.

“Jimin,” you whispered and gently poked his arm. Nothing. “Jimin,” you whispered a little louder, leaning closer to his face. You whimpered softly as he didn’t stir. “Fuck this,” you muttered and pushed off the blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Peeking over to the passengers behind you to make sure they were asleep, you carefully maneuvered your laptop into your seat before standing up. Jimin had titled his seat back to get more comfortable and you assumed to give himself more room - though again, you didn’t believe there was any space that could fit his long legs; they still touched the seat in front of him. Bracing yourself between the rows in front and behind you, you placed one leg in between the gap of his two and held your breath. So far so good. You twisted to face him so you could slot your second leg into the gap, bending over his sleeping frame. It was nerve-wracking to be this close to him in such a tight space and you prayed to your Lord and Savior that he wouldn’t wake up now as you’d gotten so far into your poorly concocted plan.

Just as you were slipping your left leg over and into the aisle, Jimin shifted beneath you. You froze. The strings of your hoodie dangled treacherously close to his nose. You pleaded silently that he wouldn’t wake up as you scrunched your eyes shut.

“Shutterfly?” The sound of his deep voice caused you to look down. “What are you doing? If you wanted to sit in my lap, all you had to do was ask,” he murmured as he removed his headphones and sat up straighter. Of course, he couldn’t hear you.

“I have to pee and you weren’t waking up, so,” you trailed off, ignoring his flirtatious comment again. He gave you a lazy smile that barely reached his sleep-heavy eyes. The distance between you was much shorter and you focused on keeping your breathing as even as possible.

“Hmm, you should go pee then,” he replied as he let his hand rest gently on your hip, nudging you into the aisle. You squeaked and darted from under his touch, hitting your knee on the armrest. You grumbled a string of curses and rubbed your knee as you headed to the back of the cabin, his quiet chuckles fading behind you.

The relief was imminent and you sighed in contentment as you washed your hands in the tiny sink. Under the dim fluorescent lighting, your skin looked washed out. Your eyes and cheeks were puffy from the high altitude and you tried to rub the tiredness away. You knew you should get some sleep, but the thought of accidentally cuddling into Jimin’s soft, warm body as you slept was so tempting, it was terrifying. You sighed in annoyance as you thought about your fellow passenger. He would be the bane of your existence with his deep sleepy voice and soft touches and stupid nickname.

You shut the door with enough force that you grimaced at the loud noise. It wasn’t as if you could shut all your thoughts of Jimin into that pint-sized restroom as you’d attempted to do with Tiago those many summers ago. You scowled at his memory as you angrily walked back to your seat, the pain in your knee forgotten. You tapped Elijah harshly on his shoulder but softened your gaze after realizing you’d startled him.

“Sorry, I’m in your way again.”  He stepped out into the aisle to let you through, the subtle waft of his cologne moving with him.

“No, you’re fine,” you told him as you slipped into your seat and rested your laptop onto your open tray table.

“You think I’m fine?” you rolled your eyes at his dumb grin.

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“Who said I was flirting?”

“Your entire demeanor!” you exclaimed. He hushed you and warned you to keep your voice down as people were sleeping. “Your body language, your tone, your eyes. All of it - all of you,” you finished, gesturing to his body.

“And here I was thinking you weren’t interested,” he said with the same smile. He propped his chin up in his palm as he gazed at you through his long lashes. You scoffed.

“No one is interested in you, Jimin.”

“Mhmm, I love it when you say my name.” You covered your mouth to stop the burst of laughter in your chest. He chuckled quietly and returned to his seat. “You don’t have to lie to me though, Shutterfly.”

“Delusional and dramatic. That’s quite the combination you have going for yourself, Mr. Park,” I commented as you searched for your additional Saipan clips.

“As delusional and dramatic as you are uninteresting and not flustered by me,” he shot back playfully and you struggled to keep the corners of your mouth from turning up as you kept your focus on the screen. “How long does it take you to do that though?”

“Do what?” you asked.

“Edit your videos,” he clarified, closing the distance between you again. It was becoming increasingly obvious that personal space did not matter to him.

“Oh. It depends on the project and how much material I have to work with. Sometimes I can knock out a video in a couple of hours, but other times I get stuck for inspiration or I can’t figure out this one technical aspect and it stumps me for days before I can finally move on,” you said slowing down as you realized you were rambling. “Sorry, that was a lot,” you apologized.

“No, I get what you mean. The purpose of projects will definitely define what type of style you go for. I’ve been in those spaces. No need to apologize, seriously.” Jimin rested his hand on your forearm in a comforting manner and you smiled softly at the gesture.

“Is that a genuine smile I see?” He shoved his head in front of your face trying to get a better look.

“Way to ruin the mood,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head away gently.

“Wow, I think it is,” he continued. “Your freckles are beautiful by the way. And don’t worry about the mood, darling. I can create another one for you.” Jimin winked at you and placed a headphone in his ear.

“You’re a fool,” you informed him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“A fool in love!” he sang. “Don’t stay up too late. Gotta reset your circadian rhythm before we get to Bali,” Jimin warned. You shook your head at his concern; if only sleep was so easy. Even so, it was only 2 am back in New York. Plenty of time to nap and be up by your usual 4 am wake up time.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, Shutterfly.”

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© joon-ipersgirl, 2020

#jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #fic: bitter and beloved

[iridescentxstars]

Forced To Watch A Horror/Zombie Movie

“Let’s watch a movie,” Jongin smiles, pulling her to bed while she protests loudly. She knows what he’s been recommending to the fans, he knows what he’s been binge watching on Netflix - she knows him and it can only mean bad news for her.

With the chaos happening in the world, Jongin has been told to spend as little time as possible out and about which means he’s limited to seeing his band mates, his wife and family - and her. He’s been going stir crazy and when he’s not practicing, preparing or pampering Rahee and Raeon, Jongin has been stuck in his apartment with LEGO and video games so Ayla going over to keep him company has been a welcomed blessing.

“Jongin,” she whines, placing her glasses on the set of drawers that line the end of the bed, making there only be one way in or out of his large bed - which he definitely needs with the way he sleeps. “You know I don’t like horrors or zombie movies! Why are you making me watch this when you know it’ll make me scared and cry?”

He only grins, ignoring her protests as he searches through the movies to find his favourite one - Train To Busan. “You’ll be fine, jagiya, you don’t have to be scared.” He lets her snuggle into his side, his red pyjama shirt clutched in her fingers as soon as the movie plays.

He feels her jumping, her nose buried into his side and the way she begins to shake her head without even looking at the screen, completely done with the movie and hoping that she can listen her way through it. Jongin’s arms wrap around her protectively, her face now buried in his chest as he hums softly to try and calm her racing heart; it takes her a moment to realise that he’s stopped the movie, that he had stopped the movie a little while into it when he heard her whimpering and that a lot of what happened after were all in her head from an overactive imagination.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on her crown and tangling their legs together to pull her as close as he possibly can, “I didn’t realise you were that scared of those kinds of movies, you’re always so brave and strong.”

She pulls away to look at him with a pout that melts his heart, “just because you find these movies funny doesn’t mean that they are.” He feels bad, hoping that his hugs are enough to make it up to her, “can we please watch something else - I don’t want to go to sleep with zombies on my mind.”

A kiss on the forehead answers her question and Jongin immediately puts on Brooklyn 99. He won’t admit it, because it’ll get him in trouble, but he did like the feeling of protecting her like that, keeping her safe and her finding comfort in him - though, he knows if he did try that again, he’d end up sleeping on the floor.

#dating exo drabbles #written for me cos im soft #jongin drabbles #exo drabbles #kim jongin drabbles #kai drabbles