#okay colour coordination!!

[famwhy]

Bereavement

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?

part two.

You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.

You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.

He was in the wrong universe.

Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.

Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.

The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.

All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.

"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"

With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.

The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—

—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.

"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."

"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.

"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."

You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.

"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."

You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.

"Miles! I'm here to—"

As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.

Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?

Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.

"...save you?"

They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.

Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.

The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.

"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.

"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.

You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."

"Don't worry about me! You have to—"

"Cariño."

You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?

"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.

"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"

Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.

Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.

"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."

"Wha—?"

"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."

You and your Miles shared a glance.

You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.

You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.

"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."

The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.

"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."

If what he was saying was true... then—?

"Y/N!"

Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.

"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind��scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.

"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"

You nodded.

Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.

"Miles—!"

"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."

You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.

It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.

One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—

—you were falling.

"Y/N!"

(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.

First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.

At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).

Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.

Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)

#miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #female reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales

[mawofthemagnetar]

Father's Day

“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”

“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”

Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.

“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”

“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.

“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”

Iskall rubbed his temples.

“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“

“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”

“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”

Jevin glanced up from his comm.

“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”

Iskall rubbed his forehead.

“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”

They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.

“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“

“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?” 

Jevin waved a hand. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!” 

And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished. 

<iJevin has left the game.> 

Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre. 

He tapped it, and vanished. 

<Iskall85 has left the game.>

When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together. 

Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground. 

“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.

Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family. 

Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall. 

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!” 

Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing. 

He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.

“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.  

“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!” 

“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!” 

“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered. 

“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged. 

“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.

“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged. 

He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids. 

Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.

#magnetar writes #Jevin Fic #Iskall fic #I've had this thing in my documents for about half a year and I finally polished it up #I hope you enjoy

[thexianzhoujade]

— AMONG THE DATA | honkai star rail fanfiction. dan heng x gn!reader | fluff, mutual pining | requested work. ⋆ friends to lovers, mutual pining, probably an ooc dan heng, reader is shorter than dan heng, there's a lot of simping and people who aren't good with emotions

⋆ thank you for the request dear !! this was requested by @lovingluxury !!

Okay, but what about Dan Heng x librarian!reader (can be gn) who has opened a library in the express (with pompoms consent of course)? When he is not working on an entry for the archives, he’s with you in the library watching you work.

— DATA HAS BEEN UPLOADED! send an ask to join the taglist; specify genshin, honkai or both! @lovingluxury, @dumbificat, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe

pom pom had taken your request well when you'd boarded the astral express with caelus at your side, march 7th trailing behind with the biggest grin on her face. that's a well known sign that there's trouble on the horizon but how could pom pom not trust caelus after all he'd done? he was a reliable member of the nameless and now, after march and caelus presented their ideas to pom pom, so was you.

nonetheless you were a bookstore owner tired of the dreary life presented to you in a city with a lack of fellow book lovers. when they'd met you, caelus and march only had one person on their mind; dan heng. 'why not open a library on the express?' caelus had suggested, his hands clasping a dusty tome you'd acquired a few amber eras ago. march grinned, chiming up from where she was swatting a cloud of dust away from her face, 'yeah! you can travel with us and set up your store whether we stop!'

these were very good ideas, you admit and so you had shyly followed them onboard the astral express, grand and refined in all of its glory. it smells of rich coffee beans and well cared for plush velvet couches in the parlor car. with pom pom's consent, you officially had your own personal library onboard the astral express, travelling the cosmos with new friends at your side - and not to mention the small store you'd set up whenever the express docked somewhere, business was booming well.

the main reason behind caelus and march's plans was going too well to be true, almost. with your library and dan heng's data bank, the express was almost a walking embodiment of knowledge - if it had legs, that is but that's besides the point! the two of you were commonly found together, side by side with your heads deep in literature and data as if it was the last thing in the cosmos.

"do you prefer them categorised this way?" you voice chimes into the quiet of the library car, decorated by rows upon rows of books and tomes and the occasional plant that pom pom had insisted on. dan heng lifts his head from the data he'd projected on the small circular table he sat at, admiring how you were testing new ways to organise your books upon his own opinion.

he liked being included that way, able to interject his opinion and you'd always take it so sweetly. he valued that as much as you valued his opinion, the feeling of being seen and appreciated. perhaps, he wonders if that's why he found himself drowning himself in your presence between stops; between the gruelling tasks that came with being a trailblazer. you were comforting, a safe place among the data.

realising he'd never responded to your question, he blinks and a crack of a smile forms on his face. you almost smile instantly at the sight as he speaks up, "what's next? colour coordinated?"

you shrug, a melodic laugh erupting from you as you turn back to your organising. dan heng relaxes, a sigh of relief coming from him as heat creeps up his neck, flushing his cheeks. by the aeons, what did you do to him? little did he know, the moment you turned away, your teeth tugged at your lower lip, unable to force back that lovesick grin as your hands idly dawdled with leather-bound books.

"maybe i can create a rainbow out of all the colours we store here," you comment in response after a few moments of recollecting yourself - dan heng doesn't miss how you use the word 'we' when referring to the library, "y'think pom pom would like that?"

we. dan heng's heart flutters, unsure when he'd suddenly 'adopted' this little library with you but he wasn't complaining, deciding to occupy himself as his hand swipes at the data, the hologram flicking to the next page of information on a planet far away. a hum of agreement rumbles from his chest and then the library falls back into a comfortable silence with only the faint phonograph from the parlor car to accompany your breathing.

maybe this is the opportunity to spill your feelings, you consider as you sneakily glance over at dan heng's concentrated form. the dark haired man's eyebrows furrow, creating small wrinkles on his forehead in thought and you wonder what he's thinking about. a shaking sigh escapes your parted lips as you clear your throat, about to speak up.

"can we talk-"

"-there's something i want to talk to you-"

the pair of you blink, staring at each other for a few moments as it comes to your realisation that you'd both uttered the intentions of starting a 'talk' at the same time, your words blurring over each other in nervous tones and bated breaths. dan heng smiles weakly, waving his hand to you.

"sorry, you first." he laughs awkwardly, leaning back in the chair he'd been perched on for hours now. your hands tremble as you try to keep yourself occupied, a battle with your nerves as you slide a thick book back onto the shelf in front of you.

"this is... going to sound really odd- and it's okay if you don't feel the same way or anything! i just think it'd.. be for the best if i just get it off my chest instead of bottling it up further-" you're rambling, an anxious mess that can barely breathe in between their words until dan heng cuts you off, his eyes sparkling in the overhead lights of the library car.

"are you... confessing to me?" he asks, holding his breath as his mind whirls for a moment. you pause, nodding in embarrassment. you're about to speak again when dan heng quickly continues, "i feel the same - i mean, that's what i wanted to talk about... too..."

he what? your thoughts are a jumbled mess, heat rushing through your every limb as you both stare at each other, processing the situation. oh aeons, you'd both gone to confess at the same time? among pages that hold secrets and hear all but never speak, among your own very special version of data compared to that of dan heng's data bank?

smiles creep onto both of your faces, you can't deny the lovesick feeling driving you as you take hesitant steps towards where he sits and dan heng rises to his feet, lanky cold hands finding your warm cheeks and cupping them so delicately as you stand before him. your breaths mingle, closer than perhaps either of you had expected when you both stepped into the library car that morning.

in the mix of breathing and trembling hands, your eyes gloss over each other's faces. they drink over the insecurities you love about the other, the soft appearance of their lips and the way their eyes shine in the harsh light. moments later, lips press together in a gentle kiss that say more than words could ever convey.

pom pom had taken your request well, yes. because they were onboard with caelus and march's convenient plotting. in their own defence, they claimed to have been merely trying to draw dan heng out of his room, away from his beloved data that he sleeps among. in the response to the library's opening, he would shuffle to your library whenever the silence of the data bank got a tad too loud, when it echoed in his ears and the past came back to creep into his mind.

you silenced it, your smile warm and inviting the moment he would slide open the car's door and step inside. you assumed he just wanted your presence, his eyes lingering on data about who-knows-what but at the end of the day, dan heng loved watching you work - he loved you.

now you were his, among the data and the books you both surrounded yourself in.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | reblogs appreciated | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

#( sealed letters ) #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #© thexianzhoujade #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng fluff #hsr fluff

[kleftiko]

hey i have a request! could you do pining!hawks x reader with trust issues? maybe kind of like a slow burn? you don’t have to do nsfw if you’re not comfortable with it!

❦ SORRY

cw: mature, mdni!, gn!reader, a bit of angst (okay a lot of angst is from your reactions😭)

PART 2

i can’t really do a slow burn in one sitting :/ but i do love me some pining hawks :)

if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging every time he saw you. keigo was an innocent lover. maybe his desires weren’t innocent, but he grew up within the hero commission, he never had the chance to love and lose or have a broken heart.

when his eyes first landed on you, he finally got to experience all those feelings he never got a chance to.

and you were patient with him.

you might have been the same age as him but you were mature. you had relationships (wether romantic, platonic, or other) that gave you knots, tears, and bruises.

his crush was endearing, and you were patient with him. smiling when he said something sweet, telling him off when he overstepped a boundary, but you would never accept his propositions to go for drinks, or dinner. happy go lucky was never absolute. and though he called himself an optimist, there will always come a time when he puts you down. when he’ll leave you for someone else.

you truly believed that his crush was just that—a crush. if you gave in, he’d eventually tire and dispose of you.

but he was relentless.

the sweet flowers ‘anonymously’ arranged on your desk of yellow and red to match his colour palette. and chocolates for white day even though you didn’t get him anything the month before.

then there was the fact that whenever you spoke, his entire body turned to face you, sharp eyes glued to you. or when he would zoom in front of you just to hold open the door.

he was breaking you down.

actually, if you took the time to step back and look at the bigger picture, you would see that he already broke down your walls. otherwise, you would have found another job. boy, were you stubborn.

“you’re right, you’re right, we need move the event.” hawks sighed and crossed his arms before he flashed you his boyish grin. “how ‘bout we talk logistics over dinner?”

“can’t, i have a date with my instant ramen.” you didn’t bother to keep eye contact as you filed away things.

“i like ramen!” he said as you stood up, his feet padded behind you as you moved down the hall. “i actually make some pretty good shin, i top it with eggs and everything. i’m not asking you on a date—you know—you told me you’re not looking to go out. so i thought we could just hang out, like, friends, y’know? so i can come over, or you can come to mine—or if you wanna be fancy we can go out and get ramen—”

you shook your head at him and turned around to walk backwards.

“keigo, you’re adorable—“ but you overestimated your coordination, the heel of your foot catching the rise in the carpet as you began to fall back.

that would never happen with the no. 2 hero, though, who swiftly grasped your hips, pulling against the momentum of gravity and into his chest. a small ‘oof’ slipped out of your lips at the contact, and you looked up at him.

his eyes and smile were bright. “i’m adorable?”

you were trapped by his eyes. those stupid, optimistic, yellow eyes that drew you closer and closer until, before you knew it, your lips were on his.

your fingers perched softly on his chest. his hands froze, then moved about your body in awkward motions before relaxing and pulling you close. it was clear you took him by surprise, but he wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.

his lips were soft and comforting, and if you could, you would spend the day kissing him, instead you subconsciously pressed your body into his, feeling keigo’s excited between his legs pressing against you. you wanted to just give in, have him explore your body like he always showed you how eager he was. you wanted to melt into his embrace and feel his skin on yours.

after that, though, he’d get bored with you. the excitement would wear out, and he’d go looking elsewhere.

that thought pulled you out of the trance.

you stepped out of his hold, breaths coming out a little too quickly. and your wrist harshly swiped at your lips, almost as if wiping off his kiss. you missed the hurt and broken expression on keigo’s face.

“sorry.” your voice was hard.

you didn’t give him another look at you walked away.

#mha takami keigo #mha x you #mha hawks #mha x reader #mha smut #mha fluff #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #bnha smut #bnha hawks #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo takami #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #keigo x you #keigo x y/n #keigo x reader #hawks x you #hawks fluff

[bruisedboys]

steve harrington definitely gets u to make you both matching friendship bracelets and he never ever takes it off.

SOOO REAL!! he’s so lovesick boyfriend I need him

fluff, established relationship gn!reader, 900 words

Steve loved your bracelets. He thought it was the cutest thing ever, how you wore at least two on each wrist, how you colour-coordinated them to your outfit or to each other. He loved them so much he asked where you’d got them, secretly hoping to find some pretty ones and gift them to you.

“Oh …” You looked at your shoes and tugged at the set of bracelets on your left wrist shyly. “I actually made them.”

Steve was bewildered. He didn’t think someone could be capable of making something so pretty and intricate. “You made them?”

You nodded, cheeks warm. “Well, yeah. I’ve been making them since I was little.”

Steve reached across the space between you, his hands hovering over your own. “Can I?”

You hummed and allowed him to take your wrist in his hands, hold your hand up to his face and get a closer look at your bracelets. When he was done he took your other hand, his thumb pressing gently into your pulse point as he inspected your bracelets.

“They’re so pretty,” he said, a bit wonderstruck. His gaze moved slowly from your wrists to your eyes. “You’re incredible.”

He dropped your hands but only to take one in his own again, pushing his fingers through yours. You flushed.

“I’m really not, Steve,” you said quietly. “It’s easy.”

Steve hummed, swinging your hands gently between you. “Well, I still think you’re incredible. Do you think you could make me one?”

There was a beat of silence — you’d secretly already started making him one. It was almost done but you were too nervous to finish it, because then you’d actually have to give it to him.

“Sure,” you said, and Steve beamed. “What colours do you want?”

You’d already picked out blue and purple. You hoped he wouldn’t say something completely different.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Steve said sweetly. “M’sure you’ll pick the best ones.”

You almost melted. He was too wonderful. “Okay,” you said.

“And, hey!” Steve clicked his fingers like he had had an epiphany, a habit of his that made him all the more adorable. “You could make us matching ones, if you want. Or I could make you one …” He trailed off disdainfully and wrinkled his nose at you. “It would probably fall to pieces.”

You giggled and gave his hand a big squeeze. “That’s okay, Stevie. I’ll make them.”

☆

You let yourself into Steve’s house, like you always did. He knew you were coming, so you stayed quiet as you slipped off your shoes and shut the door. You were wearing your bracelets, as usual, with the addition of purple and blue one to match the bracelet you’d given Steve three days ago.

He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, so you ventured upstairs.

“Steve?”

No answer. You got closer to his room and heard the shower running from his adjoining bathroom. He was singing, though admittedly quite badly, but it bought a smile to your lips.

You approached the bathroom door, happy to wait but not wanting to shock him when he came out. You knocked twice.

“Steve? It’s me.”

The smile in his voice was evident when he yelled back. “Y/N! I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes.”

“That’s okay, take your time.”

You made to sit on his bed but he called you back.

“You can come in if you want, sweetheart. Door’s unlocked.”

His tone wasn’t suggestive, though you wouldn’t have minded, really, if it was. You had an inkling he missed you as much as you missed him, so you opened the door and stepped in.

Steam clouded half the bathroom, warm air engulfing you as you stepped over the tiles. Steve’s clothes and watch were piled on the counter and the sweet scent of his shampoo surrounded you.

The shower curtain moved and Steve’s head appeared, wet hair dripping over his forehead. “Hi, sweet thing.”

You beamed, “Hi. Nice singing.”

Steve reddened, fake-glared, and then laughed like he couldn’t help himself. “Thanks. I think I’m getting pretty good, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed good-naturedly.

You crossed the bathroom and Steve’s lovesick gaze followed you until you were right in front of him. You reached up to push a dripping strand of hair from his eyes, then your gaze fell to his hand that was holding the curtain back and your heart skyrocketed.

He was wearing the bracelet you’d made him.

“You’re wearing your bracelet,” you said quietly, you heart thrumming with enamour. “In the shower.”

Steve looked down like he hadn’t even realised. He probably hadn’t. “Oh, yeah.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, though it was to you. “You know I’m never taking it off, right?”

You had to blink a few times before you looked up. Your adoration for him must’ve shown on your face, because Steve gave you a quizzical look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You lifted one shoulder, took his hand with the bracelet in your own. Your wrists pressed together and your bracelets lined up. His blue with a purple heart pattern, yours purple with a blue heart pattern.

You tore your eyes away from the matching bracelets to look at Steve, and you didn’t regret it. His smile was all dopey and his freckled face flushed.

“Just love you, is all.”

Understatement of the century.

#★ mal writes! #ღ stevie #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stevesmixtape!

[panqueen]

Oneshot Story: Boss’s Neice

Spencer Reid x Y/n Hotchner (Hotch’s neice)

Warning: Sexual remarks (fluff, unwanted sexual comments/remarks and slightly angry Hotch)

Y/n’s features: h/l = hair length, h/c = hair colour, e/c= eye colour.

Spencer holds his overly sugared coffee walking into the BAU when he sees a woman with h/l h/c facing away from him laughing with Morgan.

“Morgan I swear one day you’ll hit on the wrong woman” the woman hits his arm laughing.

“Ah! Pretty boy! Meet hotch’s neice” Morgan called over to Spencer noticing his confused look watching the woman.

The woman turned around with a smile on her face finally having the chance to meet the boy genius she’s been told about.

Spencer’s heart picks up when he sees her beautiful smile and her twinkling e/c. He can feel his hands become clammy as she continues to smile at him.

“Hello Dr.Reid I’m Y/n Hotchner” Y/n sticks her hand out for him to shake.

Spencer looks at her hand and before Morgan can inform her that he doesn’t like hand shakes Spencer grabs her hand shaking it smiling down at her.

Morgan’s eyes widen slightly until a knowing smirk replaces it as he raises his eyebrows at Spencer knowingly.

“It’s been great meeting you Dr.Reid but I really should get back to work” Y/n smiles up at the young genius.

“Spencer..call me Spencer” Spencer mumbles feeling the heat reach his cheeks.

“Okay Spencer it was great meeting you I’ll see you later” Y/n steps away walking to Hotch’s office to bring his requested files.

“Well pretty boy get used to her being here, she’s Hotch’s new assistant” Morgan pats Spencer’s shoulder smirking at his awestruck smile.

Later Y/n is practically running through the BAU with her coffee in her hand when she runs into a taller slim frame. Her coffee falls onto the floor in front of her and she scrambles to pick up the paperwork that fell with it.

“I’m so incredibly sorry, I can be so clumsy and lost in my own world..” Y/n rambles bending down to pick up the papers quickly.

A few men in the office notice and make comments between themselves that are not unheard by the embarrassed young woman with coffee spilled on her shoes and her papers scattered everywhere.

She tries to hide her increasingly red face at their advances about her.

“It’s alright Research shows that brain function, from information processing to telling your body how to move, plays a role in coordination and when people are stressed or anxious their brain processes movements differently..” Spencer rambles trying to distract her from the comments that the men around her are making.

He bends down helping to pick up the scattered paper.

“You’re really smart I admire that” Y/n stands up fixing the papers when they’re all picked up.

Spencer feels the heat rise up to his cheeks again at the young woman’s compliment as he stands up practically towering over her watching as she focuses on the papers with a determined expression on her face.

“Geez if she’s clumsy with running I wonder if she has good movement in the bedroom”

“Dude come on have you seen her of course she does”

Spencer isn’t a violent person he never has been but when he heard the men continue to make comments about Y/n and when he saw the embarrassment on her face he wanted to make them pay but before he could say something someone stepped in.

“Is that any way to speak about a lady I don’t think so, so either get out of here or I make you regret it” Morgan speaks up walking over hearing what the men were saying and seeing the look on Y/n’s face.

The two men hurriedly leave the room into the elevator.

“You alright little Hotch?” Morgan asks the young woman feeling concerned.

“I’m fine nothing I’m not used to, Thank you both of you” Y/n smiles at them walking back to her desk feeling embarrassed and down on herself.

“Poor girl all she wanted was to work with her uncle after she finished school and now she gets catcalled by assholes who happen to work here” Morgan scoffs mentioning the two men.

“They wouldn’t work here if Hotch found out” Spencer said out loud thinking to himself.

“I never pictured you to be so mischievous pretty boy” Morgan pats his shoulder smiling at him before walking to Hotch’s office to tell him about the incident.

Hotch leaves out of his office walking over to Y/n’s desk and feels his heart break a bit seeing the saddening look on her face while she looks down at her skirt questioning if it was what she was wearing that caused the extra attention.

“You did nothing wrong”

Y/n’s body turns to see her uncle smiling at her, she smiles back nodding her head.

“Some people are just assholes” he says quietly not wanting anyone else to hear.

He smiles when he hears his niece laugh at his secretive comment about the two men from before.

“Hotch I was just coming to find you to talk about this morning” Spencer shuffles on his feet noticing Y/n smiling up at him.

“All taken care of” Hotch nods at him walking to someone else’s desk to discuss something.

Y/n turns her head back to Spencer and smiles when she notices his nervousness.

“Thank you” Y/n steps forward wrapping her arms around his waist resting her head on his chest feeling his heart rate pick up from the contact.

Spencer normally wouldn’t hug anyone due to the germs that come with a single hug but he couldn’t bring himself to step away from the woman hugging him.

He looks around meeting a hardened glare from Hotch who’s watching the interaction with a watchful eye.

Hotch’s eyes softened when he sees the happy content look on his niece’s face and decides to not say anything going back to his conversation.

Spencer brings his arms up wrapping them around her back smiling when he feels her snuggle her head into his chest more letting out a content sigh.

Morgan and Garcia are across the room with the biggest smiles knowing that their boy genius and little Hotch will be together in no time.

—————————————————————

Thanks for reading♡

I post full stories and oneshots on my Wattpad account too.

Wattpad Account: Graywrites06_

#spencer reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #x reader #yn #fluff

[bambisnc]

OK! [or, group projects w riize]

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : fluff with crack delicately lined in cw/tw : food mention + use of caps wc : idk ,,

shotaro ,. ! - the mood maker!! - is the person who Socializes, helps to coordinate between the members, makes the gc, arranges meet-ups; just overall supportive and cheerful even if your team is doing literally nothing and is very likely about to get an F (D:) - shows up w like cut fruits for everyone, goes on coffee runs + writes encouraging lil messages on sticky notes and leaves them around/in notebooks etc etc - also x2 i see him as someone who like,... doodles on your people’s hands :( draws a smol star and writes something adorably cringe like “ur my star ^-^”

eunseok ,. ! - he’s the type of guy who’d take charge and delegate work to everyone; to put it simply : BOSSY AF. dare i say dictator coded even, but hey, he just wants this to get over with yk?? - bit scary to work w at first but when if he warms up to you he might would definitely indulge in a lot of partiality; assign you the easier tasks/the tasks that you prefer + if someone pisses him off he would, w the nicest sweetest smile ever, assign them the worst possible task.. - can be bribed if you offer to help w his work though sooo :) do w that what you will :) 

sungchan ,. ! - trust on me this, he’d be the one who’s always “busy” except in his case he probably fr is bc my guy is just into That Many extra curriculars - you call him up like hey where are you we’re supposed to meet at *insert name* coffee shop rn?? and he’d answer w all seriousness that his “rap music club members have a mandatory team exercise for which they’ve gone fishing and after he needs to prepare an ad for the video game club because he kinda insulted the ad making team and now they’re all on strike . oh and he has football coaching (as in he needs to coach like a bunch of tiny kindergarteners as a favor to some aunt) right in between!” - he’ll send all his work at like 4am tho dw ^^ sleep is for the weak.

wonbin ,. ! -perfectionist!!! he would be The aesthetic stationery + supplies guy with like pouches and pouches of pretty washi tapes, metallic coloured calligraphy pens, stickers and much more - would definitely call out people if their handwriting was bad.. - also he would totally use the project as an excuse to get to know whoever he’s interested in~ might offer to split the work into like duos and immediately choose you as his partner~ - prepare yourself for a lot of really obvious and goofy flirting..

seunghan ,. ! - ah yes the wise guy (genuine) (no why does he fr know everything about Everything) - puts out the most thought provoking, viewpoint shaking, world stopping arguments then half-slumps over the table and or rests his entire weight to lean on you and mumbles something about wanting to watch shin-chan >< he’s versatile (read : cute) like that - also would quite honestly go along w any idea no matter how bad it is <3 + seems super calm and composed but watch him be the most excited when taro suggests some team bonding at an arcade/festival :( <3

sohee ,. ! - he gives me manages stuff best under high pressure situations - if you’re freaking out about one of your teammates cough cough you can guess who it was having fumbled up and accidentally written down the wrong date and oh no your project is due tomorrow?! don’t worry! he’s got this :D - procrastinator at heart but for the right persuasion tactics done by ahem a certain someone (it’s you) he’d probably give it his all <;3 - also he’s an enabler at heart.. supports the ideas which he knows are going to be a trainwreck just for funsies

anton ,. ! - :(( he is Doing His Best okay - gets a bit overwhelmed due to the rising panic and chaos + leads to people being very partial to him but honestly yk he deserves it <3 - also a rich guy tm, would definitely ahem ahem pull some strings to get some extra fine quality materials~ - feel like he’d be good at research work + another 4am worker would definitely pester you to join zoom calls or ft you and be like hey!! look at this!! i did this!! is it good!! - as an excuse to show off to yuo splurges a lot for an end of the project celebration for sure

notes : inspired by very very real life events (wrote this in a zoom meet w my current group proj members ehe)! if you know me irl and feel like these are based off of you.. they're not!! you're simply hallucinating!!!! <333 + [m.list]

#order's up~! 📋⋆𐙚 #cookies.♡︎🍪 #div creds : @/PLUTISM !! #riize #riize scenario #riize imagines #riize shotaro #riize eunseok #riize sungchan #riize wonbin #riize seunghan #riize sohee #riize anton #riize x reader #kpop imagines #riize drabbles #riize fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop #kpop x reader #sungchan #wonbin #eunseok #seunghan #osaki shotaro #park wonbin #anton #anton lee #song eunseok #sohee x reader

[venussaidso]

• HASTA NATIVES

Hasta Moon Hasta Moon

Hasta Sun Hasta Moon

Hasta Sun Hasta Sun

Hasta Moon Hasta Sun

Hasta ASC Hasta Moon

Hasta Moon Hasta Moon

As you can see, the appearance of Hasta men is different from Hasta women's. Hasta women have more slimmer, ethereal, fairy-like features and a petite frame. While Hasta men will look like Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon.

Hasta men have a mixture of soft and sharp features. Their face is never as defined or fierce like Chitra men. It's important to try to distinguish the two. Chitra men always seem more intimidating, especially the look they give. Then you consider their animal yoni, and think of the tiger's glare.

Chitra Moon Chitra Sun

Hasta men will always have a softer gaze (and jaw, cheekbones) than Chitra men. Even if there's a close chance of them looking alike, Chitras always have a more stronger/captivating stare.

Chitra Moon Chitra Moon

Hasta Moon women are sometimes more easier to tell apart from Chitra Moon women because Chitra women always look far more like their tiger yoni.

Chitra Moon Chitra Moon

But just like how some Hasta men can look/be mistakened for Chitra and vice versa, the same can happen to Hasta women & Chitra women. I found examples of two women who I thought were one nakshatra but instead another.

(The left I thought she was Chitra, on the right I thought she was Hasta.)

Hasta Sun Chitra Moon

I looked again and noticed that the woman on the left really does have the small, up-turned nose and an ethereal, youthful feel about her - like other Hasta women. I looked long enough to realize that she had a "fairy"-like beauty about her. And the woman on the right, her features aren't traditionally Chitra but far more Purva Ashada which is her Sun placement. And that's okay. Sometimes your Sun placement nakshatra or Ascendent nakshatra shows more on your face than the lunar mansion.

.

.

.

Hasta being ruled by Savitar, the Sun God, already tells the solar qualities within natives who have this lunar mansion. Hasta natives generally tend to steal the spotlight (Hasta Moon Harry Styles from One Direction) or they surpass their peers greatly (Hasta Moon Ariana Grande being the only megastar from Nickelodeon).

So, Hasta nakshatra people are very much alike Leos with being brightest, but they're crafty and very knowledgeable. They love learning, exploring, organizing, naturally attaining multiple skills that sometimes have nothing to do with each other.

They probably have amazing hands, I'd guess they'd love playing the piano if they're not total swift pickpockets. They're involved in various activities or choose to stay in work (art, sports) that involves a lot of repetition/practice.

They notice details that others don't, they may even have an interest in interior design, fashion or anything to do with colour coordination.

Because of the Hasta being co-ruled by the Moon, they tend to be emotionally in tune and have deep intuition. And because Hasta is primarily ruled by Mercury, they can be so good at mental gymnastics (they love wittiness and can develop a sharp sense of humour. Hasta is quite like Revati, in such a way that they like orchestrating pranks). Like their crafty side can make them extremely deceitful, cunning thieves (think of Hasta natives Zoe Kravitz & Anne Hathaway as Catwoman) and they also may be energy vampires.

Nakshatras that happen to suit Hasta: Mrigashira, Swati, Chitra, Revati, Uttara Bhadrapada, Pushya, Uttara Ashada, Purva Ashada, Shravana, Anuradha.

#hasta #virgo #6th house #mercury #nakshatra observation #vedic astrology #sidereal astrology #vedic observation #chitra #libra #7th house #sidereal libra #hasta nakshatra #chitra nakshatra #sidereal observation #sidereal virgo

[birdwonder]

Do you think any of the creepypastas would be okay with a s/o that has a few dogs and cats? Have a good day!!

CATS AND DOGS .

A/N: GOOD question... also sorry this is late !! i was on holiday <3

EYELESS JACK would rather you didn't have pets, his heightened senses mean that he can smell and hear them a lot better and it just isn't pleasant. Besides, what can a cat or dog do that he can't ? He's got good senses, can protect you, keep you company, got sharp teeth and hell if you just want something to put a collar on- ... But if you already have these pets, he'll only mutter complaints now and then but is happy if you are. Probably did want a dog once-upon-a-time so he could kinda get into it eventually, as long as they aren't scared of him.

MASKY definitely is a dog guy and I'm thinking Will Graham-core where it's a man who wears plaid in the woods, with loads of pet dogs. Yeah, he'd be fine with it just as long as they all behave. As for the cats, they're not his thing but if they leave him alone then he'll leave them alone. Definitely thinks it's cute how you dote on them, your loving nature towards them being something that makes him drawn even closer to you.

HOODIE doesn't seem to mind. He seems to love giving the dogs and cats little scratches, finding them nice company while he lurks around your house. If you live together, he helps take responsibility for them under the circumstance you don't get any more - not until one passes away. You find him talking to them in silly ways sometimes. He looks at one of your cats and shakes his head as it climbs all over his stuff, "don't walk around here like you pay bills, freeloader." If he can't be bothered to walk them though, he's 100% saying they're your pets and he doesn't have to do anything. Would prefer the cats.

TICCI TOBY does NOT want pets !! His whole life animals have been afraid of him so he's convinced it wouldn't go well for him to meet them. When he sees you have so many pets, he stays far away from them. You likely have to help him warm up to your pets and vice versa. If they tend to bite and scratch, its best you keep Toby away from them. But if any are particularly docile, it might be emotionally healing for him to have one rest on his lap. However, he is a jealous man and will scowl if you pay more attention to those animals than him. Oh, your dog just did a trick ? Well look at what he just learnt to do with an axe ! JEFF finds the amount excessive. One pet is enough and two is pushing it. Still, he likes to watch how you handle them with care and if they keep you happy, he's not going to mess with that. At first, he wants them to leave him alone, shooting glares at the pets even if they're friendly. But he'll get over it and learn to like them somewhat. He'd honestly like them more if they were friendly with him but were tearing up everyone else, now that'd be fun. But nope, just regular domestic animals. He ain't helping look after them unless you adopt one together, then it's like your fluffball kid. He'd also rather have a dog pls. JANE tries to be fine with it but god the fur ? She really hopes they don't shed a lot and if they do, keep them out of your shared bedroom. They're not allowed on the bed but she'll compromise with the couch if they have to. Constantly stocked up on lint-rollers to get fur off of your clothes. Likes the cats more for sure. She thinks you're crazy for having so many pets but doesn't want to diss it since you clearly love them. Eventually, some motherly instinct will kick in for some of them and she'll want to sew some cute accessories and clothes for them. Also gets them loads of collars to colour-coordinate to your outfits.

#creepypasta x reader #xreader #creepypasta #requests #eyeless jack x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #request #jeff the killer x reader #jeff woods x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers x reader #jane the killer x reader

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Reunited

Oneshot Tango x Reader Contains: Fluff -----------------------

With a sigh, you rise from your seated position, checking the clock again. 10.03am. Mornings are long these days, and not just because it's summer.

No, that's how it would be anyway. But these mornings drag even more. These mornings are unusually quiet and uneventful. You have no Tango to make them anything else.

He's been gone for so long now. At this point, you've lost track of the weeks, but it's got to be nearing three months now. Perhaps that's passed already.

At first, you kept going as per usual, seeing hermits you'd normally see, getting in on the community projects. Lately you just haven't had the motivation. You've not even ventured outside your base.

You spend much of your time in the cottage you built for Tango and you at the beginning of the season. You've added a few things to the grounds outside since Tango has been gone, but nothing major. You don't want to remove all the Tango from this space.

It's safe to say you miss him. No one can doubt that.

You glance out of the window as you walk past, the giant silhouette of Deep Frost Citadel no longer intimidating. At this point it only brings you sorrow.

You've spent many an hour staring from various windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one you love. Hoping he will come home at last. Sometimes you think you see something moving in the distance, but who knows? Maybe you're too far away to tell.

Your communicator beeps quietly in your pocket, it's not an uncommon occurance but it doesn't happen often still. Every now and then someone will check up on you, see if you're okay since you're not venturing out as much any more. That's what you expect this message will be too.

You're pleasantly surprised when it isn't. When the message reads - <Xisuma> I'll be 5 minutes, be ready to leave. Or else ^.^

The threat and uncharacteristically cute face give you mixed messages, but you decide you'd rather be safe than sorry. X isn't very threatening, sure, but while you don't think he'd hurt a fly you've never seen him in that situation to be sure.

So you move away from the window and go sort yourself out for company.

Before you know it there is a pounding at the door, you find yourself pulling on your footwear and trying not to smack your face into the wall as you rush to silence the knocking.

Xisuma looks unimpressed, or so you think behind the mask anyway, pulling you out of the house.

"We'll I'm at least glad I didn't have to drag you out of the house." He says, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. The emphasis on the word 'you' seems strange, but you decide not to question it.

Xisuma gives you some coordinates, just in case, but tells you to just follow him and it'll be easier. He shoots off into the sky, making flying look easy.

You've not flown in some time. While there is some muscle memory it's certainly rough going. You're a little all over the place for the first five minutes, but you settle back into it fast enough.

The landing isn't particularly smooth, not at all. You almost go flat on your face, but manage to save it last minute and roll.

Xisuma helps you up, not uttering a word or any kind of an expression. Once you're on your feet he immediately sets off walking.

You follow behind him as best you can, relying on the small path. Here the trees are thick, the spruce forest pretty dense. It's beautiful though, the dark green of the leaves glowing from the sunlight above. Moss covers most of the podzol, small white flowers managing to grow over the layer of green.

You haven't been walking for long when Xisuma comes fully back into sight, a clearing up ahead.

Here you're able to see the sky once again, but that's not the most impressive feature. There is grass here, mixed with the moss, on it grows many many flowers of all different colours.

Hidden in the tree line you spot a small building, but see no door for it. Not that it seems you'll be going over there.

X pulls out a picnic blanket, laying it in the center of the clearing. "Care to sit?" He suggests, nodding in approval when you take a seat on the blanket.

Then Xisuma leaves without a word, moving towards the small building. You think of asking him what he's doing but decide not to. That's a man that works in mysterious ways.

Being alone again makes you miss home. You haven't left in so long, not that it isn't nice to, it's just who knows how far you are from Tango.

You can feel the sadness that comes with that thought rising in you. Xisuma disappears and you sigh deeply, choosing to focus on the trees just past the building.

This keeps you occupied until Xisuma reappears. Not that he really looks like himself, the helmet and armour is gone or covered up by long, black robes lined with blue. His eyes glow frosty in the darkness cast by his hood.

This isn't Xisuma at all. This is "Tango?"

"The one and only, my love." He takes a seat in front of you, taking down his hood. His hair is a mess, you can see the dark circles that have formed under his eyes. He looks paler now than he ever has. But it is, unmistakably, Tango.

You forget any sadness, any anger that you haven't seen him sooner. All you feel is happiness in this moment. Especially as he shuffles and pulls you into his side for a hug.

  "I'm sorry it's taken so long to do this. I lost track of time in the dungeon." His voice is sincere, you know he's not lying. You had also lost track of the time in your own home waiting for his return.

"I would have waited forever to see you again." You say in return. Your eyes meet Tango's, his expression is still sad.

"I know you would, as I would for you. But let's be honest, all this time apart hasn't done either of us very good." You nod in agreement. It's not like he's wrong.

The time apart has done a number on you both, it seems silly when you look at it in hindsight. All the problems being apart for so long has caused. You can't change that now, but Tango speaking once again fills you with hope.

"I'm coming home. Every night. No excuses. I even got a Bdubs Offical.' Tango smiles now, a smile you've missed dearly. He waves the clock around, taking the time to point out the Bdubs signature on the back.

You wrap your arms around him, the joy you feel taking over your entire body. Tango holds you just as tight, as if to say he wasn't going to let go again.

You make a mental note to thank Xisuma for bringing you here, for just generally being there for you. It's good to have friends that care about you. It's good to have Tango back If he belongs.

#tango x reader #tangotek x reader #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #tango tek x reader #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mcytblr #mcyt #hermitcraft season 9 #tango #tangotek #tango tek #fluff #oneshot

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Do you have any more Ghostflower/Gwiles headcanons 👀👀 ?

Hehe, I haven't done more of those for awhile haven't I? Okay, let's see.

Miles actually, ended up doing a painting of Gwen for his Studio Art classes; he has done so many drawings of her that it came almost naturally for him, and his teacher found the painting so beautiful the teacher begged him to let be on display on the academy. Gwen eventually saw the paint, to Miles embarrassment, she just said she thought it was cute. In reality she felt her heart melt at seeing the portrait of her in warm colours, sunflowers, and with a smile and a glow so beautiful she was in awe at the knowledge that yeah, this is how Miles sees her.

Gwen actually started taking classes in Spanish after she came back to her dimension in the first movie; I dig that headcanon I had seen around that she likes languages in general, but she got a tad curious after meeting Miles. She works extra hard after the fiasco that was meeting Rio and Jeff; she actually ends up having a better pronunciation than Jeff to the amusement of Miles' parents. (Jeff learned Spanish for Rio, no idea if this is canon or not but it is for me.)

Miles and Gwen at some point develop a tradition of trying stuff from their own dimensions; all started with Miles being curious about the difference between his Kola-soda and her Bepsi. After awhile, both Gwen and Miles made an habit to keep handy the snacks the other likes from their respective dimensions (Chocolate covered pop rocks for Gwen, plantain chips seasoned with pimenton de la vera for Miles.) They didn't even coordinate for it to happen, they just caught on the fact once after a difficult mission, Miles offered the chocolate and she the chips.

Miles can dance, if only enough to not make a fool of himself in the parties (Rio's idea, not son of hers was going to be moving uncomfortable while Chayanne is playing on the dance floor.) Gwen will deny it until she is blue in the face, but her brain became mush while Miles was showing her to dance salsa. (Sidenote, I think Gwen is better dancing alone, while Miles knows how to move better in a couple's dance.)

Remember in ATSV when they are swinging around New York? They do that a lot, in both of their dimensions; they like to chase each other and try daredevil tricks while laughing as the world around them doesn't exist. It has gotten into a point that there video compilations of them doing this, a lot of with the title of "Spidey dance" or "Spiders in love" because even a bystander doing a video can see the way they go after each other has mean to something else. Gwen's dad is the one who brought her attention to one of these videos, one of the most embarrassing moments in her life.

These are a few! Hmm, maybe I should try one of those OTP memes or something, I bet it would be fun with them.

Hope you like these!

#ghostflower #gwiles #miles morales #gwen stacy #atsv #across the spiderverse #headcanons #ghostflower hcs

[rottenpumpkin13]

Drunk Sephiroth

@snowbanshee Asked: So it's Christmas party, loud and decadent, already bringing out the worst in some of the attendees. The pink coloured drink in a festive bowl seemed to be quite an attraction, people flocking from every corner of the spacious, generously decorated hall to have their fill.

He didn't know better. Maybe his senses failed him, lulled by the sweet scents of berries. Maybe he simply had nothing to compare it to.

So for the first time in his lifetime, and very much against his will, the Silver Demon of Wutai, the legendary war machine found himself in a remote corner of the buzzing hall, his cheeks pink, his gaze unfocused, and his thoughts a mess. That punch... was an alcoholic drink?

• Sephiroth walks back and proceeds to lift the punch bowl and then drain it like it's a glass of water and he has been thirsty for three lifetimes.

• People look on in horror as he becomes soaked in the drink. Sephiroth gives no fucks. This pink stuff is delightful.

• He slams the punch bowl down and unintentionally shatters it. Then he stumbles off to go find Genesis and Angeal.

• Having witnessed the whole ordeal, Reno grabs a bottle of rum from the table and rushes after him. He taps Sephiroth on the shoulder.

Reno: Yo! Take this!

• Sephiroth barely registers who's he's talking to. He grabs the bottle, pops it open, then downs it in one go before handing it back to the Turk.

Sephiroth: Thanks.

• He leaves.

Rude: Why would you do that?

Reno: This party's boring. That'll be sure to spice things up!

• Sephiroth, dizzy as shit, manges to find them and immediately dangles from Genesis's shoulder.

Sephiroth: Hey Genesisssss

Genesis: *sniff sniff* GODDESS MINERVA AND MOTHER GAIA THIS MAN'S BREATH CAN INCINERATE A VILLAGE.

Angeal: Sephiroth! did you drink?

Sephiroth: Oh, I c o n s u m e d.

• He loses balance and falls on top of Angeal and Genesis.

Angeal: Okay buddy, we need to get you home.

Genesis: No, we need to get him water.

Angeal: Good thinking. You go do that.

• Genesis leaves in pursuit of anything non-alcoholic.

Sephiroth: Fuck.

Angeal: WOAH.

Sephiroth: Fuck bitches get money.

Angeal: Sephiroth.

• Sephiroth leans in really close, grabs Angeal by the collar and whispers: Ass.

• Genesis bounces back to them. He shoves a tall glass of a clear liquid in Sephiroth's hand.

Genesis: Here, drink up.

• Sephiroth drowns the contents of the glass in one go, then gives the glass to Angeal, who wrinkles his nose and brings the glass closer to smell it.

Angeal: *sniff sniff* GENESIS!

Genesis: WHAT!?

Angeal: THIS IS VODKA!

Genesis: I PANICKED AND GRABBED THE FIRST THING I SAW.

• They turn around and Sephiroth is nowhere to be seen. Angeal starts panicking.

Genesis: Relax! It's Sephiroth. What real trouble could he possibly get into?

• The once respectable party turned into a nightclub with flashing neon lights and a clear dancefloor.

• This happened after Sephiroth lost all articles of clothing save for his pants and proceeded to give (drunk) Rufus ShinRa a lap dance.

• All hell broke loose after that.

• No one knows where the pole came from.

• No one knew Director Lazard knew how to work the pole either but the night is full of surprises.

• Genesis is having people do body shots off him.

• Angeal lost his composure after someone brought out barrels filled with alcohol and Banora Whites so people could so apple bobbing.

• Reeve coordinated a drunk human pyramid and Sephiroth was at the top. Hojo appeared to try and grab Sephiroth to preserve his creation's dignity. He backflipped off the top and landed on top of Hojo.

• Turks vs. SOLDIER drinking match. Genesis and Reno got into a who's the better redhead fight. Lots of trash talk. Cissnei and Elena put eyeliner and Glitter on Sephiroth.

• Sephiroth interrupted Genesis's time on the pole to show him how it's done. He may or may not have performed to Lovegame by Lady Gaga.

• And then He blacks out.

• Every department has hungover zombies roaming it's halls.

• The SOLDIER floor in particular is straight out of The Walking Dead. Zack wished Director Lazard good morning and got an supernatural moan in response.

• Meanwhile Sephiroth is chipper as he strides into the conference room with a coffee cup in hand.

• Angeal and Genesis look up from their fetal positions.

Genesis: What...what in the goddess's name. You're not hungover?

Sephiroth: I was never drunk to begin with.

Angeal & Genesis: HUH!?

Sephiroth: It's a quirk I have from the way I developed. Alcohol doesn't work for me like it does for average SOLDIERs.

Angeal: THEN WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?

Sephiroth: Oh, I was bored.

Angeal:

Genesis:

#ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #ffvii crisis core #final fantasy #ff7r #angeal hewley #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy 7 crisis core #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii crisis core #ffviir #incorrect final fantasy #shit post

[ghost-bxrd]

Hear me out, Owl song BUT omega Jason Todd. He and Dick make the sweetest nests together, colour coordinated, fluffing up whatever little blankets and pillows they have. Jason knowing how to make even cardboard and other things nice and slightly comfortable for a nest! He made them for Catherine afterall!

(And idk maybe Talons are unscented. Like they've been messed up so bad that Dick can't have a scent :(( it was important for 100% stealth. Their scent glands were removed. Dick was used to cold sterilised hospital like smell. Used scent only for tailing targets, ect.)

But his owlet smells of caramel cinnamon (or whatever you want omega Jay to smell like!) and he adores him so so much! And it sticks to him too, Dick is scented with a bit of Bruce, Jason and Alfred. He's not alone anymore :')

And heat snuggles!!!!!!!! Jason being more fussy and snuggly!!! Tired and demanding!! They'd be so cute ;-; <333 He'd make sure his owlet is well fed and protected.

I adore omega Jason and his need for cuddles. 🥺

Jason would be so relaxed with a Talon!Dick watching out for him during his heat, whereas before each heat was a cause for fear and panic.

Dick would keep dragging more blankets into the den, letting a sleepy Jason sort through them all and then discretely shove the “bad“ ones out the window. Every fussy whine would be met with a gentle and adoring coo.

And when they begin living at the manor Jason's first heat there is a tense affair, and if Dick gets even a whiff of Alfed or bruce coming closer he'll start growling and chittering in warning (but they're just bringing food/checking to see if everything's okay), but Jason still can't help but feel absolutely safe with Dick sitting sentry at all times, radiating a fierce sort of if-you-dare-trespass-i-will-string-you-up-by-your-entrails-like-a-christmas-ornament that Jason knows he's completely serious about.

And once they become a real pack with Bruce and Alfred Jason would have two of the fiercest guardians ever, and Dick would finally get have a pack again (after his previous one fell) and experience pack cuddles and scentings and just--- urgh. Pack dynamics. They're just so good.

#owl song #pack dynamics #platonic alpha beta omega dynamics

[summermoonshine]

Call Of Duty : MWIII - TRAITOR SOAP

Okay, HEAR ME OUT (actually there's no one to hear me out so i'm basically writing this for me myself and my own poor sad soul).

So. Since the release of the trailer, the theory about a traitor Soap has spread, mainly because during the MWIII trailer they used the colour red on the new skin.

[I'll pretend to ignore that the headphones and the keffiyeh are identical to those worn by Ghost - which would open up many other unfortunate scenarios (: the killing of Ghost by Soap who kept the headphones and keffiyeh in memory), see below:

but let's go on for now...]

What if it was more than just the colour red? Le'ts recall that Soap was originally - or maybe purposely - sent by General Shepherd to team up with Ghost, and we know that General Shepherd later teamed up with Graves. So it would make sense that Soap didn't check for Graves' dead body after the explosion in the tank, right? (I mean, they acted like buddies from day 0...)

Also, what if Soap's anger upon the discovery of Graves' betrayal (with his famous line: ''Graves whaTTTCHA FFUCK'') was caused because THEIR secret deal was failing? This would justify why the Shadows took the trouble to search far and wide for Soap on the streets (maybe they were afraid he would spill the tea? huh), despite Graves and all the others being afraid of Ghost (he was, c'mon, who wouldn't be).

Speaking of him, it is interesting to underline how, throughout the duration of the campaign, not only is there a true character development (Ghost went from being a lone wolf to being part of a team; a team that he himself stated and claimed as his - which means the world for a creepy lonely ass like him) but there are also his ''advice'' to guide us through. He, in fact, warns us about betrayals, trust, how ''people you know can hurt you the most'' and that ''you want to be (a) better (man) than me, Johnny''. This makes me wonder: what if Ghost had sensed Soap's betrayal right from the start (or maybe he already knew it, and for this reason his first exclamation is ''Fucking Hell'' when he sees Soap before wheeling up)? Let's remember that OG Ghost was killed by General Shepherd because he trusted him. Now Soap would be doing his same mistakes: What if Ghost's ''advices'' were small clues to try to put Soap back on the right track? Again: what if, finally, Ghost took off his balaclava in front of Los Vaqueros (here's a little note: let's remember what happened with Alejandro's safehouse: they didn't trust Soap. The only one who had the coordinates was Ghost), the TF141 and Soap (who shows a more than satisfied grin after seeing Ghost without it) because it's his (Ghost's) way to settle the accounts and even the things out forever? Ghost already died once, is it now Simon's turn? (actually, i don't believe Ghost will be the one to die this time - i'm in my delulu cloud, let me be).

Lastly, i'd like to pinpoint a thing or two about Price (speaking of deaths...). In the MWIII trailer we see this scene (he's just sleepy yeah right true?!):

but let's focus on his hands:

Which ones are they clinging to? Soap's? No: Gaz. Maybe, MAYBE, he was close to the truth and that was a hint for our lad to beware of something (or maybe, someone...)? Also, where's Ghost? Why did they split? SoapxGhost and PricexGaz were almost standard pairs for MWII.

And that's talking about ''pairs'', that here i stand with my last point: amongst the various interactions and banters between Soap and Ghost during the Alone Mission, there's an interesting question that Soap asks before Ghost gives his impressive quotes about trust (although he tries to divert the answers as much as possible and to be as evasive as possible on his ideas regarding the others - later revealed during the missions, such as the arrival of Price and Gaz and the news that Laswell is still on their side which leads Ghost to say that she's ''still as solid as a rock'': so he KNOWS who to ''trust'', but he refused to admit it to Soap by choice). Soap, on the other hand, does not. That's why he asks: ''What about Captain Price?'' (read: can I trust him?). One of the answer is: ''I trust the Captain'', the other one: ''I don't trust anyone right now, even Price". Maybe, and just MAYBE, they were just already showing us some nuances of Soap's character but we didn't notice it? At least... not yet?

(Credits for the pics and gif to: @sleepyconfusedpotato @mctvsh Please, give me the credits if ya repost it, 🌱)

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #mw2 #call of duty #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #mw3 #ghost cod #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanart #ghost call of duty #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap mw2 #soap cod #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #soap x reader #soap modern warfare #soap mwii #soap mwiii #johnny mactavish #captain mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap x ghost #captain price

[1-800-deactivatednearu]

EMESIS BLUE: The Importance of Colour Coordination before You Go Swangin through Hell

analysis under read more

keep in mind that this features screenshots from the sfm itself and therefore contains . what happened to the tags on this post ??? open at your own discretion

Blu(e)

[I.D.: 2 screenshots of Emesis Blue, in establishing shots of the introductions of Scout and Medic and Spy and Soldier.

In the first, Scout sits on an examination table, and Medic is looking at his teeth. The scene is cast in blue light. (3:20)

In the second, Soldier sits in Spy's car, cigarette lit and revolver drawn as he looks at something past the camera. The door is open behind him, Spy leaning in. the scene is blue with yellow light. (6:04) /end I.D.]

The SFM first establishes the world with not only exclusively BLU mercenaries, but also matching blue lighting. Blue is loyalty and calmness, blue is our status quo, blue is emesis.

Actually, why is the title of this SFM "Throwing Up Blue." Should your medication be doing that ??

[I.D.: Archibald holds a revolver, Spy behind him. Against the wall in front of them are 3 BLU mercenaries with bags over their head. The scene is cast in blue lighting. /end I.D.]

Y'know. Loyalty. Dependability. Nothing a little bit of treason can't do! :)

My belief of blue symbolizing status quo largely comes from Archibald as the BLU civilian model. We come to understand that he represents some sort of authority figure, pulling the strings behind the scenes. They pulled the mercs off death row if only so they don't have to find ethical work, and then introduced respawns to avoid hiring new ones! He pulled whatever happened in the above screenshot with virtually no repercussions! Normal things.

Red

All this about BLU, how's the RED team?

[I.D.: The zombified RED Scout, Heavy, Solder, and Engineer, as seen in the gun stash. (46:57) /end I.D.]

Maybe when the horror is about the respawn machine... it doesn't bring back mercenaries too great...

The RED mercenaries are the 1% that came back wrong from respawn--way more common than it sounds when you consider how much people die in your average game, nevermind 2fort--that come back wrong from the respawn.

At least I'd hope they want us to come to the conclusion that red = respawn.

[I.D.: Red backlit sign reading "RESPAWN" (1:01:46) and the respawn command terminal text in red (1:02:35). /end I.D.]

"Respawn" has stopped looking like a word to me at this point.

Point stands: scary red technology is scary and red.

[I.D.: 2 screenshots. First is of Dell, the engineer in a red suit and greying hair, stands with both hands on a red bar countertop. Behind him is a wall of unlabelled red bottles. (59:49)

Second depicts Medic in the red bathroom of the bar. He stands with both hands on the sink basin, facing a mirror. (1:44:14) /end I.D.]

In both scenes, a character is later revealed to be dead. In both scenes, we also get a The Shining reference!

Didn't watch the movie, can't tell you nothing about what that means.

Red is closely tied with death and the afterlife--the respawn, in all its wretched glory. In all its gory. Sorry. And in their death, they go to red rooms, as if their souls are still trapped in the red light of the respawn.

[I.D.: 2 screenshots. First is of Medic and Soldier, in Archibald's presentation room. Medic is covered in blood and leaning on an open door for support. Soldier holds a shotgun. They both look down on an off-screen zombified Sniper. (1:20:17)

Medic and Soldier again, this time playing Russian Roulette with Spy. Medic, bloodied and holding a revolver under his chin, looks to Soldier. The scene is primarily blue, with a red light cast on Medic. (1:23:14) /end I.D.]

I'm not saying Medic is disproportionately soaked in blood, but. Just look at the guy. Now look at Soldier. (Okay, maybe a little unfair considering how unscathed Soldier is. Physically.)

Throughout the SFM, Medic becomes less blue, removing his uniform after his first death and then simply becoming so blood soaked he starts sliding from reading as blue to reading as red. He's transitioning! Happy pride!

A Tangent on Red v. Blu

The focus of this tangent is to argue that there is nuance in red and blue, and not necessarily a "good" and "evil" colour.

I feel it is important to not portray one side as good and the other as evil, especially in the case of Medic, especially when what could be read as hallucination sequences are cast in red light. Please do not portray real life mental illnesses as dangerous. Please do not villainise the act of taking medication. Thank you. <3

The inclusion of Scout and Archibald on the same team, as well as Demoman and ... well, the rest of RED, all goes to show that there is no one moral to take away from one colour.

On a more unimportant note, having polarizing, absolute views of morality makes analysis a pain.

[I.D.: Zed and Maynard Conagher. They are cast in both red and blue light, their actual outfit colouration unclear. (25:57) /end I.D.]

Like as seen in here, colour is no measure of morality. They actually move frequently between red and blue lighting! I doubt anyone is in a hurry to even argue that Redmond or Blutarch are the correct one of the two. I don't even know them apart, honestly. This is TF2. The game is about two teams indefinitely fighting stupid wars for stupid prizes.

Black

[I.D.: Nearing the end of Archibald's funeral, when Medic just burst from the coffin and shot Spy. Soldier sits between the coffin and the podium in a wheelchair. There is a red line of blood on the wall. (1:38:50) /end I.D.]

It might be redundant to point this out at a funeral, but here we go anyways: black is the traditional colour of mourning in the West. Would most definitely be wildly inappropriate to walk into a funeral in bright reds and blues.

Which no one would do ever.

After all this time, death as a finality is almost surreal. Soldier got shot, like, three times, and he's still fine! Spy set himself on fire and then rolled directly into sewer water, and he's still fine! (Was. He was still fine.) Medic. You're telling me it took one bullet to the face to kill Spy?

Yea. Lol. Lmao, even.

I feel the most important costume change would actually be Medic's. No white on him, unless you count the way he was drained of all blood in between dying again and coming back again. He's a dead man walking with a score to even. He even hid in a coffin.

[I.D.: Medic standing in the entrance of the bar. He wears a black tie and matching suspenders. (1:43:13) /end i.d.]

We also get to see his outfit change post-hijacking of ambulance. Besides obscuring his time of death--because, seriously, when did this man die??--it further cements the significance of black.

It all lies in effort: if black didn't matter, reuse assets.

He dressed up nice! Would it hurt to also call attention how he looks full of blood? Medic looks alive and well for a dead man.

[I.D.: The black telephones seen throughout the SFM: the telephone in Scout's house when he hears his own voice played back (11:58), Medic holding an unplugged phone with intent to strangle Maynard Conagher (30:18), the round table of skeletons seated in front of black telephones (1:03:18), Pyro answering the phone during their interrogation with Spy (1:06:24), Archibald speaking on a payphone (1:16:30), and Maynard pulling a telephone from under the counter at the bar (1:44:28). /end I.D.]

This is how I realize there is more than one model used for the phones (rotary and touch tone, the latter more commonly appearing)! That's fun! :D

Anyways, the phones highlight a cyclical nature of life and violence and death and life again. No, this isn't poetic, this is just your average game of 2fort.

When we first are introduced to the imagery of phones, we learn about them through ominous recordings of previous dialogue, creating a literal cycle of recording conversations and then replaying them over phone calls, drawing them all to the Conagher Slaughterhouse. (Or just kidnapping them, in Scout's case.)

We actually have an outlier to these black telephones!

[I.D.: Spy and Soldier investigating Medic's office, just as his blue telephone rings (21:03) /end I.D.]

The lighting here is clear enough to definitely tell it's blue. I despise Medic and his interior design choices. This may indicate that the trend is not related to colours as much as it is related to the telephone itself, but I'm not transferring any more image sets again. Headache it be.

Like many of the other telephones seen in this SFM, it's also a touch tone telephone!

But how about after they all enter the Conagher Slaughterhouse? We don't hear many conversations in their entirety, nor do we have the full story to them. It's hard to draw conclusions without context.

Speaking of cycles...

[I.D.: Scout and Medic in Medic's office. The box of VHS tapes is tipped over and scattered across the floor. (4:28) /end I.D.

Scout, as doomed by the narrative!

As much as Medic tried, he was not able to save him, not in the present, not in the future.

The VHS is the only physical proof of a future Medic's failure to protect a past Scout.

M (1931), a VHS that needs to be rewound in order to play. His rotary phone that needs to be spun back and forth in order to enter to dial a number. The replay button of the YouTube video.

It's eternity in there!

#tf2 #emesis blue #my writing #smoking tw #blood tw #gore tw #eye contact tw

[jungk0oksthighs]

Her | First Heartbreak

(now)husband!jungkook, tattooartist!jungkook, BF2L, fluff, smut, angst

Word Count - 6.6k

You want to give Jungkook what he's always wanted. Warnings: swearing, lots and lots of fluff as always, mentions of sex, heavy angst, infertility issues & a spousal argument

MINISERIES COLLECTION

You’re two years into a blissful marriage with your best friend, the one guy you ‘didn’t see like that’ until one day the only thing he became was exactly that. The love of your life, the sneaky bastard had been right under your nose your whole life and finally – finally, you’re his. And he’s yours.

Things with Jungkook are effortless, exceedingly so. Always have been, and you pray to every higher power that they always will be. You love him with your whole heart, every fibre of your being misses him when he’s not around. And judging by the constant buzzing from your phone, all the missed texts and calls, he feels the exact same way.

It's a Saturday morning and you’re teaching your favourite class at the dance school you own. Baby ballet. A dozen tiny toddlers drowning in tutus three times their size are your company for the next hour, and truthfully you wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not that you’re broody, you just really like teaching this class. At least that’s what you try and convince yourself when a smile creeps onto your face, watching the young girls stomp about with purpose.

Divas in the making, you’re sure.

The class is for ages two to five years, parents drop off their daughters and trust you to take good care of them all while teaching them the very basics of ballet. At their age it’s mostly about balance and coordination, but even you have to admit a couple of them already show a promising future in dance. It makes you almost nostalgic, seeing their chubby little faces light up when you clap excitedly and praise their hard work.

That used to be you, in a room just like this one. Laminated flooring and mirrored walls leaving no room for mistakes. You used to wear the cute pastel coloured leotards and tutus too, whereas these days you teach in a simple black leotard and a sheer wrap skirt of the same colour. Swapping out your painful pointe shoes you used to tour with for simple soft-soles. Just like your teacher used to wear.

You’re watching the girls behind you in the mirror, noting their technique and wondering how you could help them improve when a full-circle moment comes crashing down on you.

Mina, one of the older toddlers of the group, takes a heavy tumble to the ground after losing balance. Her features immediately drop with disappointment and sadness, especially when one of the other girls laughs at her mistake.

“Mina? Are you okay sweetie?” You turn to face her, panicking when you watch tears cascade down those perfect rounded cheeks of hers. “Mina are you hurt?”

“N-no…” The five year old sniffles, begrudgingly picking herself up from the ground. “I’m fine Miss…”

They’re children. You can’t scream at children. You exhale, trying not to lose your patience when at least five of Mina’s ‘friends’ all begin to point and laugh at her. Once upon a time that was you, around the same age as her too. The memory plays clear as day in your mind, how the other girls snickered and made bitchy little remarks about your technique. Well, about as bitchy as toddlers can get.

But with that memory comes a flashback of what happened next. You recall the way you dragged your feet across the sports hall building, sobbing, until you were inside the Taekwondo practise room. Six year old Jungkook knew there was something wrong immediately, rushing over to you with those big, round, sparkly doe-eyes that look the same to this day. Whether he’s aware of it or not, what he said to you that day left an impact on your life and personality. It was the birth of the ‘fuck it’ attitude you’ve developed over the years.

‘Everybody falls over once in a while, it’s no big deal.’ His signature bunny smile was adorable even then.

“Mina, can you come here please?” Your voice is gentle and kind, mirroring the expression you wear when you reach a palm out to her.

Reluctantly, she makes her way across to you with pink cheeks. You don’t know much about Mina’s personal life giving that you’re only her ballet teacher. But you do know that for whatever reason she lacks a maternal figure, her father, Hoseok, is a single dad and raises her on his own.

Hoseok is what can only be described as the perfect father. He’s never late to pick Mina up from class, in fact, he arrives ten minutes before class is due to end and sits to watch her practise with a proud smile that lights up the room. Always bringing her snacks to enjoy in the car ride home. Never misses a show. Consistently supportive of his number one.

You hope that Jungkook will be that kind of father one day.

“Are you sure you’re okay honey?” You kneel in front of a very upset Mina, who’s messily wiping away her tears with the back of her teeny tiny hand. “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, swallowing, “I-I’m fine…” Her tone is less than convincing, especially when her eyes scan the room and register there are still girls laughing at her.

“Everybody falls over once in a while, it’s no big deal.” You can’t catch the smile that tugs your lips in time, reminiscing your own experience with your now husband, “As long as you’re not hurt.”

“I’m embarrassed.” She huffs between little sobs and your womb has never felt emptier.

“Don’t be honey, it happens. You can dance up front with me, okay?”

Another nod, “Okay Miss…”

“Okay everybody settle down!” You’re loud, eyes burning holes into the other girls that have upset your favourite student. Is it immoral to have a favourite student? You don’t care. Mina is your favourite regardless. “Can we all apologise to Mina for laughing please? That wasn’t very nice of you girls.”

Immediately there’s a chorus of baby voices behind you, their faces panicked and scared in the mirror, “Sorry…”

Yeah, thought so.

“Okay lets go over this one last—”

There’s a low wolf whistle paired with the sound of the wooden doors being barged open that cuts you off, “Helloooo Mrs Jeon!”  

In the mirror your stare finds the newcomer, rather newcomers instantly. Hoseok gives a small wave at his daughter in the mirror, her face immediately brightening upon seeing him. They resemble each other so much. From their glossy black hair to their identical heart-shaped lips, there’s no denying Mina is her father’s double. He’s carrying a little pink princess rucksack on his shoulder, holding an unopened juice-box in his other hand when he takes a seat at the back of the dance studio quietly.

The polar opposite to the man beside him, the one who just wolf-whistled at you in front of twelve toddlers. Of course it’s your loud, overbearing husband who’s joined him.

Jungkook reads the room pretty quickly, defensively raising his palms and mouthing ‘sorry’ at you with an awkward toothy grin. You’re 99% certain he had a full day appointment booked in for today. You vaguely remember him telling you all about some body builder who wanted his entire arm tattooing in one sitting, despite your husband advising him against it. Maybe you got the dates mixed up, because by some turn of events Jungkook is in your class waving at you and clearly not at his tattoo studio.

You offer Jungkook a polite smile before returning to work, prompting the girls to go through the simple routine you’ve showed them one final time. As to be expected Hoseok’s eyes are trained to his daughter, sparkling with pride and a love so deep even you almost get lost to it. He adores that girl so much, it’s enough to make any woman sigh contently with a small smile.

You really hope Jungkook will be that kind of father one day.

It’s no secret that your husband wants babies. Seven to be exact. It’s all he talks about, wondering when you’ll finally give into his insistent nagging. He’s wanted to be a dad for as long as you can remember, he even has names picked out and everything. Much to your amusement. It’s comforting that he’s not rushed you into making such a life-changing decision, despite knowing how badly he longs to have his own children. You’re grateful for that, you’re grateful for everything Jungkook has given you. His time, his patience, his unwavering love and affection.

And the way he's hyping up the baby ballerinas from the back of the studio does something funny to your tummy. Your empty tummy. He's talking to Hoseok, completely immersed in watching little Mina get lost to the craft she'll no doubt perfect when she's older. His features are stretched with astonishment, eagerly nodding along with whatever Hoseok is saying.

Maybe you are ready to make that man a father.

The music fades and you’re forced to come back down to earth, having being daydreaming about what kind of mischief a tiny version of you and Kook would get up to. You turn to your students with a wide grin, clapping excitedly.

“Well done everybody!” You beam, “You all did great today! Good job!” Your eyes land on Hoseok again, this time he’s making his way over to Mina with big, bouncy steps.

“Meen!!!! You did great!!!” He shouts, swooping her up in his arms.

“Hoseok…” You smile again as you approach the pair, lowering your voice, “Mina fell down today, she said she’s not hurt but of course I just wanted to let you know.”

“Oh no, Meen are you okay?” He coos with a pout, his daughter simply nodding in response with a whispered ‘yep’. “Thanks for letting me know Y/N, oh you didn’t tell me your husband was a tattoo artist! He seems like a cool guy.”

At this you chuckle, gaze landing on Jungkook who’s already grinning at you, “Ahh… Yes, he is a tattoo artist.” You confirm, blood rushing to your cheeks when you notice some of the dance moms ogling him as they arrive for scheduled pickup. One woman even goes as far as introducing herself to him, but as always when Jungkook meets a new woman – he shakes her hand with his left one. A not-so-subtle way to flaunt his shiny wedding ring.

“Don’t call him cool though please, I’ll never hear the end of it.” You sigh, suppressing a fit of giggles at the pure panic settling onto your husband’s features when all the dance moms flock through the double doors. Gunning for him.

“Is that your husband Miss?” Mina’s looking at Jungkook as though she’s seen a ghost, features wide and round with shock. It’s so cute you think you could burst. “I didn’t know you had a husband.”

You offer her a warm smile, nodding, reminding yourself that having a favourite student is fine but maybe you should be less obvious about it in front of the other parents. “Yes Mina that’s my husband.”

“Really?” Her nose crinkles, curious.

“Mhm.” You hum with pride, eyes flickering to said husband who’s still beating off single moms, even the happily married moms, with a tattooed hand and his wedding ring.

“Okay well we’ve got a dentist appointment to get to Meen, so we’ll see you next week Y/N!” Hoseok’s smile is as bright as ever, replicated in the tiny mini-me he holds.

“See you both next week, well done you did really well today Mina!” You wave them off, saying a few polite hellos and goodbyes to the parents who come and go. Until you’re standing in the dance studio alone, well, almost.

“Not that I’m complaining but why are you here? I thought you had an all-day client today?” You hum with a grin while walking over to Jungkook who looks like an out-of-breath zebra having just escaped a pack of wild lions. Bless his soul.

At this he nods, standing until you’re being pulled into a warm hug, “Right. Well the guy pussied out as soon as I got to the elbow ditch, seized up like a teenage boner and wanted to reschedule.” He chuckles mostly to himself, kissing your forehead. “He was even leaking like a teenage boner. Tears though obviously, I wasn’t looking at his cock—”

“Do you have to be so vulgar?” You snort, snaking your arms round his taught body.

“Depends,” You can hear the smirk tugging his lips without needing to look up at him, “Are you excepting anybody else in here today? Cause if we have the place to ourselves…” His words get lost against your lips when he tips your chin to his, kissing you.

He tastes like home. He smells like home. He feels like home. Jungkook is your home.

“Nuh-uh,” You pull away from him with a child-like grin, “Not happening in here.”

“Come on…” He whispers, reattaching his lips to the skin of your neck in a series of dainty kisses, “Why let all these mirrors to waste?”

Your body begins to betray you as his mouth starts to feel really good against your flesh, you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut. That's when you clear your throat, “You know…”

Jungkook registers the change to your tone immediately, peeling his face away from your neck to watch you curiously. His eyes are sparkling with adoration and a genuine love that’s so pure it's indescribable, a single brow quirking in confusion.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to say something serious and kill the mood?” He laughs, wetting his lips with an anxious smile. “I’m kidding, are you okay?”

“Mhm…” You nod along. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned having this conversation but truthfully you can’t get Mina and her perfect chubby cheeks out your mind. You remember Jungkook as a child, he too had cheeks equally as puffy and adorable. The idea of creating a mini-him doesn’t absolutely terrify you anymore, and so you throw your arms over his shoulder and look him dead in the eye.

“Hoseok’s daughter Mina is super cute, isn’t she?” You hum, trying to gauge his reaction, “Do not repeat this but I think she’s my favourite.”

“Okay…?” It’s as though you can see the dusty cogs in your husband’s brain grinding against each other, a feeble attempt to figure out where you’re going with this. “She is really cute, I remember when you used to stomp around like that in tutus too.” He’s chuckling, gaze flickering over your features. “So what do you wanna do today? Since we’ve both finished work and apparently having sex in here isn’t an option.” He’s fully laughing now, playfully tutting at the fact you refuse to taint your work space like that.

“I have an idea…” You’re bursting at the seams with equal parts nerves and excitement, “Why don’t we make a Mina?” Biting your lip to suppress a giant smile you watch Jungkook’s mouth fall open, bewildered.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He cocks his head to the left, the hold he has on your waist suddenly tightening. “Because… You know that… Okay-, really? I-, wait what? I need you to be a little more specific, just so I know I’m hearing this right…” He’s tripping over his own tongue like a bumbling idiot, usual doe-eyes narrow and uncertain.

“Well-,” You dumb down your train of thought so that a neanderthal himself would understand, “What if we… Had our own baby?”

Jungkook’s white teeth are fully bared in a Cheshire cat like grin, spreading from ear to ear. It’s a second later when the sound of your yelping fills the air, him having just picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder like a measly ragdoll. You’re laughing loudly, hysterically. Slapping his denim-clad ass in sync with each step that carries you to a nearby storage room.

“Jungkook!” You’re breathless, giggly and excited, “Put me down! What are you doing?!”

But of course he doesn’t respond right away, shoving you into the props storage cupboard until your back is firmly pressed against a rail of items too miscellaneous to describe. It’s when the snap of the door locking registers with you that blood rushes to your cheeks. Peeling an inflatable pink flamingo from under your feet you launch it at Kook, til it bounces off that pretty little head of his and messes his long raven hair. Even that doesn’t deter him, the man’s still smiling as though he just won the lottery.

“What on earth are you doing?!” You snort, and Jungkook pretty much lunges at you with a new found determination. Still grinning. "Jungkook what are we doing in here?"

“Making a baby.”

--

“It’s negative.” Your husband’s voice sounds distant and absent, despite the fact he’s standing by the bathroom sink right in front of you.

Another negative pregnancy test. That makes it four in total, this being the first one to make you cry. It’s just so frustrating. You’ve read all the articles, all the books, you know all the old wives tales. Eat more yoghurt, that’ll get you pregnant. Drink less alcohol, that’ll get you pregnant. Keep track of your cycle to get pregnant. Put a pillow under your ass, abuse the doggy-style position, put your legs up against the wall after sex, take folic acid supplements –

Except you’ve tried all that, and here you are four months later. Surrounded by too many houseplants and white bathroom tiles that probably need cleaning again.

Still not pregnant.

It’s a Sunday morning and you’re sitting on the toilet in your bright ensuite bathroom, Kook having joined you out of sheer excitement that this time you might’ve got the results you were hoping for. But of course, that’s not the case. The weather outside is glorious, sunshine mocking the devastation coursing your veins. Four months you’ve been actively trying to conceive, what was once the beginning of an exciting new chapter has now diminished into nothing but a colossal disappointment. The only positive thing about the last four months has been the daily rampant sex.

“I’m sorry…” You sniffle, feeling guilty that you’ve been unable to get pregnant. Jungkook would be the most amazing father, you know that with every fibre in your being – you’re ashamed that you haven’t been able to give him that title yet.

At this Jungkook sighs, his features softening when he makes his way over and kneels in front of you. His eyes are sympathetic and tired, the polar opposite to the shiny child-like hope they were swimming with when you initially took the pregnancy test.

“Why are you apologising? You’ve done nothing wrong Y/N…” His voice is gentle and kind, quiet as it rolls off his tongue. His hands rest on your knees, pierced lips pursing when he catches sight of the first few tears to betray you. “Please don’t cry… It’ll happen when it happens.” He says reassuringly, squeezing your thigh.

Fearing the worst you can’t bring yourself to stop the sobs forming in your throat, “What if it doesn’t?” You sniffle again, not daring to look him in the eyes that will be no doubt disappointed, “What if I-, what if there’s something wrong with me?” You wail, smothering your face with shaky hands. “What if I can never get pregnant.”

“Hey, hey… Shhh…” Jungkook coos, tugging you onto the tiled floor with him until you’re sat in his lap, the two of you only wearing robes, “I’ll love you until the end of time no matter what happens, okay?”

“But—”

“Baby or no baby you’re my person Y/N. My best friend. My wife. The love of my life and nothing, and I mean nothing is ever gonna stop me from being in love with you.” His words get lost into your hair when he plants a chaste kiss to your head, soothingly rubbing the spans of your back. “It takes time to get pregnant sometimes, and for all we know it could be me.” A nervous exhale leaves him, “I have taken a few critical hits to the Jeon jewels over the years…”

At this you can’t fight the tiny smile creeping onto your face, nuzzled into his neck, “Jeon jewels?” You chuckle lightly.

Jungkook returns your hushed chuckle, relishing in the fact that he’s managed to stop your tears with one of his dumb jokes. Be it intentional or otherwise, “My testicles.”

“I got that.” You sniffle, swallowing the aftermath of your emotional breakdown.

“Maybe we should go to the doctor? I’m sure everything will be fine, we have only been trying for four months… But if you’re worried we could make an appointment?”  

“You think that’s a good idea?” You pull back to look at him, heart sinking at the glimmer of frustration and desperation behind his eyes. “But what if-, what if there really is something wrong with me? Or you? What are we gonna do?”

He nods slowly, zoned out while he processes your words, “Then… Then we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it.”

It’s two weeks and two doctors’ appointments later when you’re prepping vegetables to be thrown into the slow cooker, following your mom's homemade casserole recipe by the book. Jungkook barges the kitchen door open with a giant grin. Judging by the black latex gloves dangling from his baggy jeans he’s come straight home from work. When his eyes focus on you chopping veggies he hums contently, coming up behind you and snaking his tattooed arms over the bend of your waist.

“Good evening beautiful. How was work?” He’s in a good mood, a really good mood. And you question what could’ve possibly caused him to be so bouncy and smiley.

It’s not the affection that’s surprising to you, he’s a very touchy-feely husband and his love language is definitely physical touch. Hand holding, cuddling, playing with your hair, even just resting his legs atop of your own - he loves all of it. It’s more so the spring in his step and added honey to his tone that has you frowning, settling the knife down to face him.

“Work was fine… You’re in a good mood…” You chuckle, draping your arms over his broad shoulders.

“Did the doctor call you today?” He blurts excitedly, smiling from ear-to-ear.

Your heart sinks, his words hitting like a bullet to the vital organ, “No… Why? Did they call you?”

At this your husband swallows, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing up and down anxiously. His hold on you loosens ever so slightly, his own features softening until there’s no trace of joy remaining. Not even in his eyes, his long choppy hair is brushed back for a change, revealing his thick brows and forehead. Leaving nowhere to hide his disappointment.

“Umm, yeah they did… I’m sure they’ll call you with your results tomorrow though, don’t worry.” He feigns a smile, lips closed and awkward-looking.

Nodding in response you fight the urge to panic, “So… You got your results back?”

“Um… Mhm.” He clears his throat, suddenly pulling you into a tight bear hug that catches your breath, “I’m sure they’ll call you with yours soon princess. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Forget I—”

“It’s fine.” You bite, resting your cheek to his strong shoulder, chin already beginning to quiver, presumably from the anxiety you feel toward the situation, “So… Everything on your end is… okay?”

He plants a shy kiss to your temple, “Yeah… The swimmers are swimming as they should be.” He whispers, cradling you in his arms. “I’m sure everything is fine Y/N, please don’t be upset. I’m such an asshole I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.” Another kiss, this one burning a hole in your skin and sending a sucker punch straight to your empty womb.

“It’s okay…” You sniffle, a strange pain budding in your gut. It's that same gnawing sensation that prompts you to call the doctor the next day, but that's when you discover they want to run more tests.

--

This isn’t happening.

Jungkook’s fingers are entwined with your own, squeezing you tightly. You feel numb. Your husband sits beside you in the doctor’s office with pinched brows, hanging on to every single word spoken by Dr Min, but you zoned out around the time Dr Min uttered the words;

‘Asymptomatic endometriosis is particularly hard to diagnose because of the lack of symptoms, it’s a miracle we were even able to spot the abnormalities during your first pelvic exam. I’m really sorry to be the one to say this Y/N… But your chances of conceiving naturally are... minimal to none. I’m afraid you’re already at stage four. There are surgeries that can—’

It’s like an outer body experience. You can see your own body deflating beside your husband, your fingers cramping from the grip he has on them. You can make out Dr Min’s long black hair gathering at the nape of his neck, contrasting against his white lab coat. You know there’s a conversation happening, you can hear their voices, but you don’t have the strength to partake.

Where your legs were bouncing anxiously upon entering the small office, now they’re completely still. It feels as though blood has stopped pumping your veins, like a part of you just died and your body is in shock, mourning the loss of what will never be.

“What about IVF?” You hear Jungkook say, every word stained with hope and desperation.

Dr Min’s lips purse, “This stage of endometriosis means a worse prognosis for IVF treatments, in comparison to the milder stages. It’s not impossible though, it does happen…” He opens the first draw in his wooden desk, the clunking sound snapping you back to reality, “Would you like me to refer you to a specialist?”

“Yes—”

“No.” You cut Jungkook’s words short, not daring to look at either man in the room. Swallowing the lump gathered at the back of your throat. “No thank you.”

“O-okay.” The doctor nods once, soft milky features washed with silent understanding, “There are a lot of groups and online forums for women in your—”

“No.” You sigh, battling the urge to break, “Thank you for your time but I think we’re done here.”

Without giving either man another millisecond of acknowledgement you tear your hand away from Jungkook’s, pushing yourself to your feet that carry you to his black Mercedes parked out front. It’s raining, a fitting bleakness in the air that you can genuinely relate to in this moment.

You’ll never be able to give Jungkook what he’s always wanted.

“Y/N!” The man himself calls out after you, jogging until he’s standing beside the car. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise… There are tonnes of options and—”

“Unlock the car Jungkook.” Your voice is flat, eyes never meeting his.

He shuffles closer, tugging you into his broad chest with a pained sigh, “Come here, I know this is a lot to process but—”

“Unlock the car.” You say louder, not returning the hug currently threatening to crush your bones. “Please… Just unlock the car Kook.” You soften, realising your anger is misplaced. You’re not mad at him – you can’t be mad at him.

You’re mad at you.

The journey home is spent in uncomfortable silence. In your peripheral vision you can make out Jungkook gnawing his lower lip, a nervous habit of his, but his eyes never break from the road ahead. Not until you’re parked on the gravel of your driveway, but by the time he looks to you with those big brown doe-eyes you fell in love with, you’re already sliding out the car.

His presence is strong and right behind you when you unlock the door, but you don’t turn to face him, you can’t. All he’s ever wanted is to be a father, to have his own children to love and dote on. A tribe of Jeon’s to play sports with, share secrets with, to laugh and to cry with. To carry his family name.

You’ll never be able to give him any of that.

All you’ve wanted for the last four months is to give him what he deserves, a child of his own to raise. Truthfully you’ve been more in love with idea of Jungkook as a father than the thought of you being a mother. You just wanted to make him happy, you’re married, not getting any younger and well society has drilled into you that a baby is the next normal stage of life. Something you won’t ever be able to give your husband.

A normal life.

“Can we at least talk about this please?” His voice is oozing with sadness, pulling your heart strings when he locks the front door behind him. The grey hoodie he wears is darkened from the rain, as are his blue jeans. His long hair damp when he brushes it away from his chiselled face. Revealing just how upset he is, and the punches just keep coming.

Standing in the hallway you nod, emotions bubbling, boiling, crawling up to the surface and you know full-well you’re about to erupt at any given moment. The irrational side of your brain is merging with the half that knows better than this. But still, you can’t keep it together anymore. You’re looking straight at your husband’s face with a serious expression, trying to mask the fear inside you.

He deserves someone who can give him what he wants.

“Okay.” You feign a smile, internally crumbling, “What do you want to talk about?”

Jungkook calmly walks over to you, until his inked hands find your shoulders, lowering his head to get a better look at you, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” You huff, pulling away from his comforting hold.

“Don’t do that.” He follows you with a sigh when you attempt to walk away, heading upstairs into your shared bedroom. “Don’t push me away Y/N. Talk to me… Please.”

“About what?” With a hammering heart it’s taking every ounce of self-restraint you have not to lash out and project your feelings onto him. Your breaths turn shallow, erratic, eyes frantically looking everywhere in the master bedroom save for Jungkook’s features currently crumpled with despair.

“Y/N…” Another exhale leaves his lips, but it’s when he’s suddenly in front of you gripping your wrists that you finally snap.

“What?! What do you want me to say Jungkook?!” You yell at him, wincing at the fact he remains unphased by your outburst.

“I’m sorry that I can never give you what you always wanted! I’m sorry! Okay, is that what you want?! I’m sorry that I can’t do the one thing women are biologically designed and programmed to do! I’m sorry that you’ve wasted all these years pining after me for it to turn out to be a disaster, a fucking failure! Is that what you want to hear?! Is that what you wanna talk about?!”

Jungkook’s eyes are swimming in worry, shiny with equal parts sorrow and empathy when he finally speaks after a brief silence, “What I always wanted Y/N… is you.” He whispers, brows furrowed, “I told you, baby or no baby there is nothing that will stop me from loving—”

“That was before you knew I can never give you a child... Before-, before I was diagnosed with a disease I don't even have symptoms for!” You sniffle, tears betraying you as they start to build up behind your eyelids. “I’m so sorry Jungkook...” The weight of your body makes your knees buckle, until you’re crashing to the ground with a thud in a sea of tears, sobbing, wailing, crying into your hands on the bedroom floor.

“I’m so fucking sorry... I can-, I can't-, I'm sorry!” You wail, barely able to catch your breath.

Without a moment of hesitation your husband calmly settles on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs before tugging you into his lap. Time simultaneously speeds and slows while you cry it out into the crook of his neck, fists balling the material of the hood gathered behind him.

“I’m sorry…” You manage to choke out again between ragged breaths.

Jungkook squeezes you tighter, resting his angular chin atop your shoulder, “Stop apologising. This is nobody’s fault, okay? But…” He hesitates, his tone weary and uncertain, “Why did you say no to IVF?”

“I-, I…” You swallow, attempting to calm yourself down, “I don’t want to have to go through all that Kook… I-, I’m… No. I just-,” You struggle to find the words to express your emotions, truthfully you don’t want to put your body through the stress of IVF, you know it’s not always guaranteed and the second you discovered you can’t make a baby was the second you decided – you don’t want a baby. Not if it has to be like this.

“I’m sorry… I-, if we can’t… I don’t want-, I… Jungkook I don’t want—”

“Shhh…” He coos, kissing your temple, “It’s okay… There’s other routes we can take. We have the savings to fund them. Be it surrogacy, adoption—”

“No, you don’t get it...” You peel away from him, shaking your head with mascara staining your cheeks, “I… I don’t want to do this if we can’t do it naturally. I don’t want a baby if I’ll never know the weight of it growing in my womb…” Your breath hitches, “I’m so sorry Jungkook… But—”

“Stop apologising.” His smile is small, pained yet genuine when he thumbs away your tears, “I understand. We don’t need a baby to be complete. We have each other for that.” His doe-eyes are staring at you intensely, sparkling with adoration and sincerity as they usually are.

“But you deserve to be with someone who can give you—”

“Don’t say that.” He snaps angrily, jaw so tight it threatens to shatter, “Don’t you ever fucking say that to me Y/N. You are my world. You. Nothing and nobody else. I didn’t spend my entire life madly in love with you for you to tell me I deserve something different. Nobody has the right to tell me what I should have or what I should want, nobody. Not even you.”

You’re stunned, visibly taken aback by that, and so your voice is barely audible when it crawls off your tongue, “But you’ve always wanted to be a dad…”

“No,” He shakes his head before pressing his forehead to yours, “I’ve always wanted you. A life with you. To spend my entire life loving you, whatever that looked like. I’m not going to leave you because of this, you can try and push me away as much as you want but I meant what I said in my vows,” He wets his lips, “I’ve chosen you every day for my entire life and I promise to keep choosing you, to honour that choice.”

“Jungkook…”

“Y/N I love you. Okay? More than anything. And if you don’t want to look at the other options I respect the fuck outa that.” He’s still wiping away your tears with one hand, the other settled on your lower back, “We don’t need a baby to complete us. I don’t need a baby to complete me. By some miracle I finally have you, and that’s more than I could’ve ever dreamed of.”

"But... What's the next step if we don't have a family?" You kiss the tip of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

"Next step? What do you mean next step?" He frowns, chuckling lightly, "The step we're standing on is pretty fucking great. We have a beautiful home, money in the bank, the freedom to do whatever we want whenever we want... We have a good life Y/N. A strong marriage. Do you know how rare that is? Waking up next to someone every day and loving them ten times more than you did the night before." He offers you a genuine smile, "This doesn't change anything. I'll love you until the very end, no matter what."

"Til' the very end?” You repeat with a tiny smile, beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's heart-breaking that the choice of starting a family the conventional way has been stolen from you, by an illness you've shown no symptoms for, but Jungkook is right. It's a choice to start a family, it’s a choice to look at other options. It’s your choice, just as he’s always chosen you.

"No matter what." He confirms, stealing a soft kiss.

And you choose him.

x

#jungkook #jungkook ff #jungkook series #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook bbf #bestfriend!jungkook #husband!jungkook #jungkook established relationship #jungkook x yn #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook oneshot #jungkook writers #jungkook writing #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction