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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

Text

Bedridden - Co-written with @3ambird

Summary:Tim has been stuck in bed for over a month and it’s driving him up the wall, he feels like the family is pushing him away.

...All he wanted was a coffee.

Word count: 2833

Link for it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205868

Notes: Hey! This work was created by both me and @3ambird. They did an amazing job, and this work wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for them giving me the idea for it!! Make sure to give them all the love they deserve!! I hope you enjoy this <3

It’s been a little over a month. One whole month of laying in bed, not being able to do anything by himself other than change the channels on TV. Tim felt awful, he felt powerless. His broken leg was annoying, and his broken ribs made breathing difficult, not to mention the pneumonia he’d only just recovered from. Sleeping wasn’t easy either, seeing as he had to be kept in an upright position at all times so that the bones would heal properly. He had gotten a brand new scar on his neck, and looking at that in the mirror was still hard. But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

The worst part, the real humiliating part, was needing help for every little thing. He hated not being able to walk properly, hated not being able to do what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, by himself.

He hated having to ask for help to go to the bathroom.

And above all, he hated needing help to bathe.

It was humiliating, having someone standing next to him and helping him clean himself, rubbing the parts he couldn’t reach because his ribs wouldn’t let him twist that way. He felt vulnerable and exposed. He thanked the heavens that Dick was so willing to help, because the few times Alfred had to cover for his older brother had been really awkward. And that’s not even mentioning that one time with Bruce.

And then there’s the pity. Everyone’s been giving him those ”understanding” looks, those soft eyes, trying not to share details from their cases, not mentioning their vigilante personas around him, turning off the news whenever he’s around, asking if he needs anything, all the time... Alfred has been cooking his favorite meals every other day, and even Damian was being nice to him. Damian, the demonspawn who would always criticize his every single move was being nice.

That was what really scared the crap out of him, it made him feel like he might never be able to be Red Robin ever again. It was as if they all knew it too, wanting to make him comfortable with being pushed away from that part of their lives, as if they were easing him back into being a civilian.

Tim sighs, wincing at the pain that spreads through his chest, and rubbing his temples in an attempt to ease his constant headache. It’s due time for him to try and do something by himself.

Slowly, he pushes himself out of bed, ignoring the pain in his ribs and the banging inside his cranium, reaching for the pair of crutches resting against the wall. He had never used them, but it couldn’t be so hard, right? He had taught himself how to jump between rooftops so he could take photos of Batman and Robin when he was just a little kid, so this should be easy enough. He manages to reach his door, having only a little trouble opening it. Wonky and slow, Tim eventually makes it to the edge of the marble staircase.

“Alright.” He murmurs to himself, looking down at the huge amount of steps in front of him “You’ve got this. You can do it. Nothing stands between Tim and a hot cup of coffee.”

His trip down the stairs takes a lot of effort and he has to take breaks every few steps, waiting for the pain to diminish so he could keep going. He’s sweating from the effort, meaning that he’d probably need a shower sooner than he wanted to, but he couldn’t take off his hoodie, afraid of losing his balance and falling down the stairs.

“Okay, five more steps Tim.” He tries to sound confident “C’mon, five more steps.”

First the crutches. Then his feet.

One step.

Once again the crutches, and then his feet.

Two steps.

The crutches. His feet.

Three steps.

The crutches slip and fall away. Tim slides down the two remaining steps, falling butt first into the ground. The impact makes pain shoot up to his broken ribs, making him cry out from the pain, tears filling his eyes and quickly running down his cheeks, the cry morphing into sobs as he holds the side of his body.

Tim hears someone coming towards him, two pairs of rushed footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Tim?” Dick calls, worried “What are you doing out of bed? What happened, are you okay?”

“I-I fell.” Tim answers, hiding his face “I-I lost my balance and... and I fell... Fuck, it hurts so much, Dick.” He cried.

“I know, I know. But I’m here now, it’s okay.” Dick answers, cupping his brother’s cheek “C’mon, let’s get you back upstairs to bed, okay?”

“N-no.” His words coming out shaky because of his stupid sobs. Tim tried again. “No, I was- I want- I just need to get t-to the kitchen, I need to-”

“Timmy, it’s okay.” Dick said, pushing some of Tim’s hair behind his ear “We’ll get you whatever you wanted.” Damian, the second pair of footsteps, nodded behind him.

“No! You don’t get it!” Tim yelled, tears still streaming down his face “I need to-! I can make it! I can! I-I know I can...!” Once again, Tim hides his face in his hands, sobbing loudly, pain pulsating down his sides.

“Tim…?” Dick has that worried puppy look on his face.

“I-I know that y-you don’t think I can g-go back to being vigilante again.” He sniffles “I- I just wa-wanted to show that I’m n-not in such b-bad shape. I-I’m not useless!”

“Oh, baby bird...” Dick said, running a hand through his brother’s hair “No one thinks that. I promise, Tim, no one thinks that you’re useless.”

“We have all had our injuries, Drake.” Damian said, crouching next to him.

“Yeah,” Dick smiles at him as he speaks “We all know that you’ll bounce back. You just need to rest.” Tim sobbs once again, burying his face on his older brother’s neck as the man kept gently running a hand through his hair “Let me help you back into your room, okay? And Dami can get whatever you wanted from the kitchen for you.” Dick whispered, and Tim nods, face still hidden.

“I- I don’t need anything.” He said, voice muffled. The words tickled Dick’s neck, and he had to put a lot of effort in not to jerk his shoulder up at the feeling “I just wanted to make myself some coffee, but... there’s no point now.”

“Would you like some tea instead?” Damian offered “Mother sends me special blends on occasion. Some of them have healing properties.” Tim looked at the kid, who was speaking in a tender tone “I could brew you some.”

“I...” Tim’s eyes filled with tears once again as he nodded “I’d like that. Thank you, Damian.”

“You’re welcome.” He answers, getting up, headed for the kitchen.

Tim starts crying again, tears falling heavily as his brother helped him to his room. Every sob, every sudden and shaky rise and fall of his chest shot a new wave of pain through his ribcage, which in turn worsened his yelps and groans. Dick tried calming him several times, to no avail. It had been so long since he cried, Tim was surprised that he still knows how.

“Thanks.” Tim mumbles, as Dick sets him down on the side of his bed.

“Don’t mention it, Timmy.” Dick smiles softly but genuinely.

“Y-you know...” He tries to steady his breathing, wanting to speak “Yo-you’re the only one... the only one w-who doesn’t smile at me like... like I’m on my deathbed.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dick sits down next to him, making the mattress dip towards him.

“I me-mean...” He rolls his eyes at his stutter, taking a deep, annoyed breath “I mean, everyone k-keeps looking at me like I’m...” He breathes again “Like I’ve got some kind of terminal disease. Like I’ll die tomorrow, or the day after that, or maybe in a week, but they look at me like I’m about to die. It sucks, and it hurts so fucking much.” He clenches his fist.

“They’re just trying to be nice Tim, no one thinks you’re going to die.” Dick said, a hand behind his brother’s head. Tim knows that if his ribs weren’t broken they’d be on his back, providing support, but right now, Dick is too afraid to even touch his torso. That makes him grind his teeth together.

“Take your hand off me.” He says through gritted teeth “Please.”

“Okay.” Dick whispers, pulling it back.

“Put it on my back.”

“Tim...”

“Put. It. On. My. Back.” He tries to sound serious and sober, but his voice cracks and the tears gather in his eyes.

“Tim, I don’t want to hurt you.” Dick says.

“That’s the problem!” He yells, wishing he could throw or break something “That’s the fucking problem, Dick! I can’t... I can’t live like this! I’m not... Some delicate thing, I’m not going to break! I’m not... I’m Red fucking Robin! a-and I... I can’t lose that.” He covers his face again, sobbing into his hands “It’s-... I can’t lose that... Please, Dick. I cant… I can’t lose it.”

He feels the mattress moving as Dick stands up, and for a moment Tim thinks that his brother is leaving him. Thinks that he will have to deal with his loss by himself. Instead, he feels his hands on his knees, rubbing circles on his exposed skin.

“Tim,” He starts, softly “Timmy, Look at me.” He does, peeking behind his fingers “Why are you afraid of losing Red Robin?”

“B-Because...” Tim wanted to say everything.

He wanted to tell Dick that the pity and the silence meant the bats were trying to ease him back into a normal, civilian life. That Alfred cooking his favorite meals all the time was clearly some kind of twisted consolation prize. That constantly needing help to perform even the most basic tasks showed everyone just how unfit he is for the mantle. That he felt humiliated for needing help whenever he had to take a goddamn piss, and that if that didn’t show just how unfit he was to be part of this family of vigilantes, then he wasn’t sure of what would.

But none of that came out. What came out instead, was a result of Tim’s sudden realization, after his racing thoughts eased their monologue.

“Because I’m weak.” More tears forced their way out as he admitted it “and you all finally saw it.”

“No.”

Tim’s breathing was shaky as he lowered his hands, revealing his face little by little, trembling chin.

“No.” Dick repeated, stronger this time, more determined. “Tim, you are so many things. Smart? Yes. Brave? Definitely. Loyal? 100%. Chaotic? Completely.” He smirked weakly, Tim chuckled just a little “But you’ve never been weak.”

“I’m not strong either.” He shot back, staring at the floor.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Just look at me!” He opens his arms “I’m pathetic! I can’t even use the bathroom by myself.” Dick had one eyebrow raised in a weird, skeptic and confused scowl. It annoyed him. “What?”

“So you think I’m weak?” He starts, Tim just frowns in confusion. “And you think that Jason’s weak? Steph and Cass? Oh, let’s not forget Babs, and Bruce? What about Duke and Damian, do they fit your description of weakness too?”

“What... What are you talking about?”

Dick huffed out a tiny laugh.

“Tim, you do realize that all of us, no exception, have been in the same situation before, right?” Tim stares at him, confused “Don’t you remember when I got my shit rocked so badly that I was in a coma for like, a week?”

“Nine days, actually.” Tim murmured “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, what about when Jason broke both of his legs after falling from that building? You do remember that, right?” Tim nodded slowly “And you do remember how he needed help to move around for two and a half months? And what about that time when Bruce was shot in the thigh and had to use a cane for three weeks?”

“Well, that’s not really comparable to-”

“You may think it isn’t because you weren’t seeing it all the time,” Dick cut him off “but I also had to help him to the toilet during the first week. And help him shower in the first few days.” Dick took a deep breath and let out a soft sigh. “Look, what I’m trying to say is; there isn’t a single masked hero out there who hasn’t been bedridden for a while, at least, not a single human one. And guess what you are, buddy?”

“Human?” Tim bit the inside of his cheek.

“yeah, human.” Dick nodded. “Baby bird, trust me,” He said, smiling at him again “You’re gonna fly again. Yeah, someone may have clipped your wings, but feathers grow back, I swear they do. No one thinks you’re dying, we’re trying to give you space and time to heal.”

“Yeah, well,” Tim sniffled, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie “Maybe I don’t need that much space.”

Dick smiled, right side of his mouth raising as he huffed out a little laugh again.

“Noted.” he said with a smile. “Hey, do you need help out of that hoodie?” He asked “You’re sweaty.”

“Yeah,” Tim nodded “Yeah, I could use some help with that... please”

As Dick helped him out of the constrictive, overly hot jacket, Damian knocked on the door, not waiting for a response before opening it. He skillfully balanced the platter containing a mug of tea and some biscuits on one hand, setting it down on his brother’s nightstand.

“You know,” Tim said as Dick attempted to carefully fold the hoodie and Damian sat down on the floor, in front of him “You can still tease me if you want to. I’m not used to not being constantly criticized by you.”

“-tt-.” Damian rolls his eyes “How can I criticize you when you haven’t done anything at all in the past month?”

“Damian!” Dick whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, that’s what I was talking about.” Tim snickered, reaching for the mug. The warm tea was comforting, even if he was feeling a little hot, and the biscuits were perfectly made, surely by Alfred’s well versed hands “Do you guys want any?”

“No thank you.” Damian says.

“I’m fine.” Dick smiles at him, deciding that his effort to fold Tim’s hoodie was useless as he tossed into his laundry bin, too sweaty to be reused.

“Are you...” Damian paused, biting the inside of his cheek “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah.” Tim answers, tapping on his mug as Dick sits back down next to him “Dick gives great pep talks.”

“It’s a gift.” His older brother jokes, getting a small smile from both Tim and Damian.

They sit quietly as Tim finishes sipping his tea, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. It’s that rare kind of silence that Tim loves, the kind of silence that isn’t forced or demanding to be filled with empty words. It’s a silence that transmits tranquility and reassures him that his brother’s love for him hasn’t faltered these last months and will never fade, no matter what.

As he takes his final sip, Tim stares at the bottom of his mug.

“Hey, uh,” He whispers “I think that after my adventures I... I might need to shower.” He looks up at Dick, biting the inside of his lips “Can you... help me?”

“Of course I can.” Dick smiles, warm and big.

“I shall take these back to the kitchen then.” Damian stands up, takes the mug from Tim’s hand and the tray from his nightstand, then disappears into the hallway.

“I hope he’s not upset that I’m stealing you from him.” Tim says.

“What? No.” Dick frowns a little “I was just watching him do his homework, but I think he’d prefer doing that on his own. C’mon, let me help you to the bathroom.”

“Hey Dick? thanks.” Tim says as Dick helps him to his feet “I don’t think I‘ve been saying that enough.”

“Oh, please.” Dick dismissed him “It’s not like you have to thank me. I’m your older brother after all.”

“Yeah, I know, but... this isn’t really something you have to do.” Tim shrugs.

“What, did you think I’d just force you to get Alfred? Or - god forbid - Bruce?” Dick snorts “I’m not heartless. Besides, I was a Robin through my teenage years, I know how awkward this kind of thing can be.” Dick says as he helps Tim sit down in the bathroom.

“I guess.” Tim laughs a little “Still, you didn’t have to do this, but you are, so thank you. A million times, thank you.”

Dick kisses the top of his head.

“You’re adorable Timmy.” He smiles “And don’t mention it. I’m here for you. Always.”

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

SUGAR HIGH, chapter xiv. (w. JJK)

You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.

alt summary. You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

pairing. jeon jungkook. mentions/involvement of ot7.

tags. angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional baggage, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.

rating. general (for now?)

word count. 2500

chapter 14. Right Here

When you finally meet his gaze, he wonders if you see him at all.

"Earth to Park Soomi. Earth to Park Soomi." It barely registers even on his last try and Jungkook can't help but sigh, curling his fingers and spreading them in some wonky, squid-like wave in front of your face.

You're back at your apartment - his request, not yours - and seated alongside one another on the loveseat. Your blanket is draped over your laps, more effectively centred over your legs that rest over his thighs. He's been flipping through Netflix for the better part of five minutes, tossing suggestions out to silence. You weren't even doing anything - just staring off into space like you were seeing the future.

"What?" You snap out of it with a jerk of your head, nearly colliding your nose with the tips of his fingers.

"What do you want to watch?" He repeats for what is the fifth time. There's an edge of exasperation to it that has you frowning. He immediately softens, because he hates when you're anything but sunshine and summertime. "I was thinking something scary, for old time's sake?"

He doesn't call you on the way your eyes glitter, mischief pouring honey into the depths.

"Let's watch Midsommar." Neither of you have seen it - as far as you know - but you've been dying to watch it. You'd tried, once, with Yejin and Minji, but the former had torn out of the room, ranting about how she didn't want to have nightmares for days. You'd given up, after that.

"Okaaay." The single syllable is dragged out as he selects the chosen film, tossing the remote onto the opposite chair like he's some kind of basketballer. You watch as it bounces off the cushion and lands on the floor, nudged out of view by a furtive foot.

"I saw that."

Jungkook pretends as if he has no idea what you're talking about, individually covered toes - god, why did he wear those stupid weird socks? - disappearing back beneath the cover of blanket. He casts a cursory glance your way, the picture of innocence. If he weren't so cute, you'd probably make him pick it up. "Saw what?"

You can't stop the smile that spreads like butter, sinking into every little crevice and warming you from the inside out. It pools in your lopsided grin and the lines at your eyes, reflected right back at you by your childhood best friend.

"Nothing," you hum, ignoring the way your stomach flips at his self-satisfied grin.

As if to push his luck – he loved to do it, had all his life – he hooks his arm over your stretched legs, his left hand snaking around the small space between your back and the couch, and pulls you closer. You try to ignore the way it ignites heat, spreading warmth beneath the soft material of your shirt. You can’t.

“What’re you doing?” It comes abrupt and demanding. A little sad, too. (You hope he doesn’t notice.)

It somehow feels worse when he draws his hand away, as if you’d burnt him and not the other way around. His expression slips, falls, and he doesn’t try to fix it, allowing it to slide into something begrudging and hurt.

When he speaks, it’s a hard line imposed between the two of you, a verbal barrier. “I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

You have no right to be upset and yet you are. Jungkook thinks he sees a flash of it in your eyes before you’re facing forward yet again. You’re closed off and it makes his heart ache but he’s not about to apologize for who he is – who he’s always been.

Even if he’s dying to know why you seem to suddenly hate it.

Instead, he lets the movie roll, carefully contained in his little section of the couch. He loathes it. Your knees over his, a weight that drag his heart into the pit of his stomach and burns it in acid. You don’t relax, hands locked in your lap like you’ve got your secrets hidden between them.

It’s only when your phone buzzes, face-up on your living room table, that you move at all. Your movements are a marionette’s, unnatural and unforgiving; you’re holding a world of tension within your bones and he’s afraid they’re going to snap like strings. You never check your phone when you’re hanging out. It was kind of a rule of yours and one Jungkook did his best to abide by, despite his responsibilities.

“Is everything okay?” He finally asks, reluctant, after you’ve been staring at your phone for far too long, completely disregarding the scene on the television. He’s staring right at you, a million questions on the tip of his tongue.

He wonders if he’ll get an answer to even this one.

You don’t immediately respond. He can’t read the tone of your voice when you do. You won’t even look at him. “It’s just Hoseokie’s friend.”

When you finally meet his gaze, he wonders if you see him at all.

The next few weeks seem to fly by and while Jungkook loves the distraction, it's a reminder of your distance.

He hasn't seen you since that night and there's this distinct hole in his mind and in his heart, each thought of you repeating tenfold like in an echo chamber. He hates it more than he can say, the loneliness sinking into his bones when he least expects it.

Like now, for instance, in the car ride home. Jimin sits beside him, singing along to what blares through the speakers, and stares out the window, completely at ease. On the other hand, Jungkook can't focus on anything, his gaze locked on the leather console between the two front seats.

He wonders what you're doing or if you're still awake. (It's just past nine.)

"Are you okay?" The question forces its way into his thoughts, drawing him from his reverie with a harsh hand, despite the gentle delivery. His hyung's face is soft, worry framed into the slope of his eyebrows and the way his full lips purse.

He's not quite sure what to say. Lie? Or verbalize things he'd rather not? He hesitates, tongue slotting into the space of his cheek as he considers the question.

The silence seems answer enough. "Is it about Soomi?" There's no demand in Jimin's voice, no pushiness or reproach to be found. He wants to express his support for his friend but toes the line of too much and not enough, head canting to the side as he studies the younger - and yet bigger - member.

"Yeah." His admission is quiet, almost lost among the melody that filters through the speakers. Truthfully, he wishes it had.

"Did..." A pause, because Jimin wants to be very careful. He's seen the bond you two have - know how precious it is, cradled in the cavity of Jungkook's chest like a treasure. "Did something happen?" He hopes its innocent enough; he knows his maknae would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship.

"I don't know." Jungkook sounds wrecked when the words come, anguish coating each syllable like a fine dust. Still, there's more to be found in the spaces between them - in everything that's left unsaid. "She's just been distant." He shrugs, the line of his broad shoulders - ones that could hold the world up but faltered with this misery - rising beneath his black bomber. "I'm not sure if I did something wrong but I'm too afraid to ask."

That, and you'd been near avoiding his communications, providing brief - though never cruel - responses and only answering his calls at half the consistency you'd used to.

To anyone else, it wouldn't have been bad but to him - it was like a knife to the heart.

Jimin mulls over the revelation, turning it over and over in his head. He's spoken to you here and there, sending hilariously filtered photos over Snapchat and new songs over KaTalk. He hadn't noticed anything amiss in your own friendship with him but then again, he wasn't Jungkook.

He wasn't the person missing his other half, somehow, despite you being right there.

He doesn't bring that up, though, steeling knowledge of your regular responses behind the enamel grate of his teeth. Instead, he gives what advice he hopes he would receive. "I think you should talk to her."

"I've been trying." It's almost a whine - very Jungkook-like in its delivery. He's even pouting in that way he does best, lips curled in.

"No, I mean, tell her you want to talk about whatever it is."

As if the mere thought might be worse than death, Jungkook flinches. "I can't do that!"

"Why not?" Jimin's not always this way, but he feels like the other needs a solid push in the right direction.

"Because what if I did do something wrong?" There's suffering in every word, colouring them in a mosaic of blue and purple like a moulted bruise. "What if she doesn't want to talk to me and I just make it worse?" He sounds so small, Jimin's heart aches for his friend.

"The alternative is never addressing this and having it become something more than it is." He's not sure if this is the right approach - realism wasn't something people often appreciated in times of distress - but he presses on anyway. "What if it's all just a misunderstanding but because you aren't talking to her, she stops talking to you? How silly would that feel?"

By the ticking in Jungkook's jaw, he knows he's struck a nerve.

"You're right," the brooding brunet is finally relenting, the heaviest of sighs escaping his soft pink lips. "I'll text her when we get back."

"You mean you'll call her." Emphatic, because Jimin can practically feel the nervous energy rolling off of the other in waves.

"Yeah." It's not the most believable but he's trying. "I'll do that."

Instead, he does one better - standing in front of your apartment like he doesn't feel sick to his stomach, tension spread across his limbs like venom and rooting him to the spot. It feels too heavy in his veins, weighted lead that sinks into his feet and keeps his hands curled.

He just needs to knock. One knock. That's it. Easy.

So why can't he do it?

"Get it together, JK." The grumble is quiet but pierces the evening air, seemingly bleeding into the wood grain of your door frame. With a sharp inhalation, his fist meets with three loud raps. He doesn't immediately hear anything on the other side - why he thinks he would, he's not sure - but it does nothing to alleviate the bile that boils over and rises in his throat.

This was a bad idea, he thinks, when the silence stretches on for longer than a second.

And yet, the door opens, flies open in the next and he can't help the surprise from affixing like a mask. It shoots into the curve of his brows, arches disappearing into his mop of multi-colour. His lips curl around a greeting, though the sound falls short when you speak first.

He's relieved that there's no anger there - only bewilderment and confusion. "Jungkook? What're you doing here?"

Your question seems to spur him into action, his broad palm moving to brush over his ear. A default action, a tic he's had since he was a kid. It teases at the intensity that sits just beneath his facade of a smile and makes you regard him more carefully. He's still got makeup on, shadow around his pretty eyes highlighting the doe-like quality of them. Even his hair is still done, neatly curled into place across his forehead, though it looks like he's swiped his hand through it a number of times.

Another nervous habit, you think.

"I wanted to see you."

You can't help the way the words stir something in your chest. First, delight. Pure unadulterated joy at being wanted by the person you want most. Then, concern. Because it's late on a random Tuesday and he wouldn't be here without reason. He'd have called you. But then his next words are a nail in your coffin, sinking you six feet under beneath his clunky black boots.

"I think we need to talk."

You say nothing as you step back, turning your body to allow him over the threshold. You're the picture of calm, gently clicking the door shut when he's manoeuvred his way inside and goes about untying the intricate laces on his shoes.

Inside, you're in full turmoil, a kerosene-soaked rag held dangerously close to a flame.

"Can we sit?" Even now, with the possibility of brutalizing your heart in two - yes, you were a cynic - he's so polite. The best boy you've ever met, a sweetheart full of good intentions. He extends a hand to you, taking a step back in the same instance. You hate - love? - the confidence with which he moves, like this is his home, too.

You suppose it is. Tu casa es mi casa, or something.

"What do you want to talk about?" You ask because you can't help it but you don't really want to know. Not right now, when your poor heart is about to leap out of your chest and throw itself at his feet. No, you'd much rather do anything but talk. Watch a movie, take a nap, sit in silence. Anything sounded better than the great unknown.

"Uh," he stumbles over himself - a decidedly un-Jungkook thing to do - and settles himself into the comfort of your loveseat. He waits for you to alight yourself alongside him, knees pulled to your chest as you face him sideways.

He looks nervous. Somehow, that doesn't help your own frayed nerves.

When he speaks, it's with all the care of someone in a delicate position. Each word is carefully chosen, handpicked and pruned with unrelenting shears until it's exactly what he wants. "I feel like something's changed." No malice, no blame. Just a statement of fact, cloaked in sadness and misunderstanding. "I don't know if it was something I did but if it is, I'm sorry." The apology for nothing comes easily, because he's willing to give you anything if you asked. "I feel like you're so far away and I don't know how or why, but I don't want it go on." He's gnawing on his lip, his cheek - anywhere he can find purchase. "Please talk to me."

Your heart breaks a little more with every syllable. You want to reach out, hold him as gently as he's always held you. Instead, you twist your fingers in your lap, clasp and unclasp them in quick succession. You don't trust yourself - not yet.

"Soomi." Whether he intends for it, your name falls like the prayer of a dying man.

"I'm sorry," you croak before you can figure out anything further. You need to get this out now - anything to alleviate the sadness that burns him to the core.

notes. i'm sorry this is so severely overdue! i finally found my inspiration again and will be (hopefully) getting some chapters queued now that i have an idea of where/how i want this to go. thank you for sticking around. xo

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #work.zip #bestfriends.zip #sugarhigh.doc #jungkook.doc

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111papilio · 5 years

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hello!! i recently came across ur art and im,,, honestly,,,, so shocked at how good it is!! its p hard to believe that you are only 14!! any tips for drawing poses nd such?? bc the characters you draw always seem so lively,, and i cant for the life of me draw charas with natural poses lol

uuuuuuua thank you!!!! eheh if you look at drawings from 2017 you can totally tell it was drawn by a kid. i’m not an expert on poses but here’s some advice:

i reference poses from cartoons/mangas more so than real photos just because they’re more exaggerated and expressive. however!! only do this if you have a good understanding of anatomy first so your drawing doesn’t end up more wonky rather than dynamic.

i actually learned a lot abt poses from other’s art lol… when i see a drawing i like on my dash or tl i always open up the full pic and observe it, kinda take mental notes of what they did that i liked or looks good. i feel like it’s easier to apply something you see from a drawing to another drawing than a photo to drawings.

don’t over-rely on the reference! most artists have talked about how it’s okay to trace esp for beginners (without claiming it as yours, ofc) however if you copy your ref too heavily you won’t be able to learn much from it. i usually just sketch the frame of the figure then i’m done with the ref.

draw a lot!! give some variety!! a lot of people say this for a good reason. it doesn’t even have to good at all. just go sicko mode on your sketchbook. my sketchbooks are filled with shitty anime girl doodles, but because i’ve drawn so many of them i’ve actually improved from it?? basically what i do here is take what i took note of from others’ art and try to emit that. i never/rarely drew those faceless naked figures things. they’re very helpful but i always ended up adding stuff to it on impulse lmao…

there’s a lot of better artists who can give tips that goes more in depth. i still have a lot more room to grow on poses, but here’s just what i’ve learned from experience. keep on working hard, anon!!

#wooah this was long #ask #art tips

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thestuckylibrary · 6 years

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Anon 1 said:

I'm trying to find this fic I read a long, long time ago. It was an AU and Bucky was kind of a fuckboy and unserumed Steve inspired him to change his ways? I wish I remembered more.

Anon said it could be The Pixie Stick Chronicles by actualspacegrandm, QueerImagination (overanxiousManiac) (WIP | 115,566| M)

Anon 2 said:

hello! ive looked endlessly for this one fic and i cant seem to find it and hopefully yall can help! bucky is in love with steve and so buck decides to tell steve how he feels so he makes a romantic dinner at their apartment but then steve comes home from a date with someone (i think sharon??) and buck is devastated and walks out. thank you!

revirphoenix, farraige25 and teenagemutantninjamushroom said it’s G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain (complete | 100,481 | E)

Anon wrote in with took my love, took it down by LaughsAtThunder (oneshot | 31785| E)

Anon 3 said:

hello! i was wondering if you knew of the fic where the avengers all think steve is sad and lonely, but in reality bucky is with him? but they made a deal with fury and coulson that bucky was to appear to be dead and at the end bucky decides he couldn’t stay away anymore after steve gets injured and it turns out fury and coulson had a bet? thank you so much!!

Anon wrote in with For Operational Reasons by Odsbodkins (oneshot | 4,248| M)

hellofromlesbistan said:

asdfghkl i am searching for a fic but all i remember is bucky like blacks out and steals a car? or drives the car on purpose then blacks out? anyway he wakes up and calls steve and sam and he’s super upset bc he didn’t mean to disappear and he was supposed to meet steve and he’s rly afraid he’s gonna black out again before they get to him. in maryland???? holy moly do u have any idea what i’m talking about lol

thatsunneinsplendour said:

hi!! I'm trying to look for a fic- I've been searching forever- idk if you could classify it as 'stucky' as they aren't shipped together- they are more portrayed with a brotherly/best friends bond. anyway, it's set after ws and tony hasn't forgiven bucky for anything. bucky lives at the tower, then one day tony cracks and they all get into an argument and steve ends up hurting himself. they go to hospital & tony & bucky finally chat stuff out. if you could help, that would be great! thank you!!

dolphinqueen10 said it could be In Repair by thegraytigress (oneshot | 11,836 | T)

Anon 4 said:

Hi! I’m looking for a fic where steve returns from a mission with glass in his back and he passes out in the shower only to be found by bucky who has been receiving help from the avengers without a steve’s knowledge! Thank you!

Anon sent in verging on yellow by itsmylifekay (oneshot | 2,855 | NR)

yahaira-abigaii said:

Hi sorry to bug you but I read this fic a long time ago and it was like a private school AU and Steve asks Bucky if he has a dick piercing and then he blows Bucky in the library? It was incredible and I can’t find it anymore 😭

Anon thinks it could be Cause You Look So Much Cuter With Something In Your Mouth* by lets_get_messi (oneshot | 2,997 | E) ( *underage)

Anon 5 said:

There's a short fic i don't really remember much but bucky and steve go out at the and bucky is like fellating his ice cream at steve and people take photos of them? idk? i cant find it....

Anon wrote in with Wanna Take You Home And Show You I’m the Best by Paraxdisepink (oneshot | 13,399 | M)

Anon 6 said: body horror

Body horror trigger, I think. I read a fic forever ago and just remembered it and have no clue how to find it. It was post serum Steve and the serum worked but it went wonky somehow and I remember Steve's skin kind of sloughing off and he was freaked out. I think after he found Bucky, Bucky helped him like peel the layers off. It's been a while, but any help would be great. Thanks

faceofpoe said it’s probably Beneath The Skin by italics_of_uncertainty (oneshot | 9,549 | E)

octavhis said:

hello! I was wondering if u could help me find some fics? The 1st one I cannot remember at all apart from one scene from the WWII era where steve and bucky were in a bombing at a pub, and scrambling to get everyone into the shelter a woman’s arm landed by steve? i think that one was mainly steve-centric. And the 2nd one was a Whole Life fic where Buck’s sister married Angie’s brother? There was a lot of Romeo and Juliet and balconies in that one I think. They got a dog at the end. Any luck???

whtaft wrote in with There Should Be Stars by childhoodinfamy (complete | 45,469 | T) Anon said the first one could be Half of the History (We Shall Never Know)* by Speranza (oneshot | 36,675 | E) *polyamory

#group asks

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foreversrain · 7 years

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Odds 1-55

1: When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? - More cereal usually, if I put more milk in than I’ll just get more cereal afterwards.

3: What random objects do you use to bookmark your books? - Whatever I can find really. Atm I’m using a bit of string, a playing card, another smaller book and a tiny photo of Lynn Gunn. There might be more, I have a bad habit of starting books and never finishing.

5: Are you self-conscious of your smile? - Yes, it makes the bags under my eyes really obvious and I have a slightly wonky tooth so yeah but I try to ignore it.

7: Do you name your plants? - I don’t have any plants to name.

9: Do you like singing/humming to yourself? - Yes but only when I’m home alone

11: What’s an inner joke you have with your friends? - That I don’t exist, is probably the least weird sounding one.

13: What’s something that made you smile today? - Doggos

15: Go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! - Mercury is shrinking

17: What colour do you really want to dye your hair? - Really want either green or blue atm.

19: Do you keep a journal? What do you write/draw in it? - I don’t anymore, I cant actually remember what I used to write in it, I’m not even sure where it is

21: Talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. - I only have one bag lmao and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say about it. Its green and black, it was pretty cheap from asda, so its nothing special. I originally covered it in band and anime badges and a paperclip chain when I first got it when I was 14 but they broke and it looked shit anyway. Its now covered in my shitty homemade patches of band logos, made from an old shirt and using a sharpie because I’m too poor to buy real patches but most of the inks run on them now because English weather and its missing some because I’m too lazy to finish them, but at least they’re actually sewn on now, instead of being attached using broken paperclips, the amount of time I cut my arm on that shit omg. Its empty most of the time now I’ve left school but I still take it everywhere for some reason. I don’t know what else to say lmao.

23: What’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? - That’s literally everyday of my life atm lmao, I guess just binge watch Netflix, currently really loving orphan black.

25: What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? - Before I moved a few years ago there was this weird abandoned bt building (at least I think it was abandoned) down my street that I broke into with some friends. I think it was some electrical station thing, idk it was really weird in there but I never found out what it really was.

27: What’s your favorite bubblegum flavour? - This is going to sound really basic but tutti fruitti, water melon or cherry.

29: What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? - I have no idea

31: What is your opinion of socks? Do you like wearing weird socks? Do you sleep with socks? Do you confine yourself to white sock hell? Really, just talk about socks. - I actually really cannot stand socks. I will only wear them if I’m wearing shoes at the same time. I don’t understand how people can wear them all the time never mind sleep with them on, that sounds like the worse thing. I hate those glove sock things, they are the worst kind of socks, they are really uncomfortable especially with shoes. I definitely don’t confine myself to white sock hell, I don’t like white socks, I don’t think I own a single pair of white socks tbh, I just have mismatched black and grey.

33: What’s your fave pastry? - Omg idk I love all of them.

35: Do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? Do you use them often? - I don’t really care about stationary tbh, I literally just have an old tin with whatever broken pens I have left over from when I was in school and like half a ruler.

37: Do you like keeping your room messy or clean? - Messy.

39: What colour do you wear the most? - Black lmao

41: What’s the last book you remember really, really loving? - As I said earlier I rarely read a whole book so this is quite difficult but I guess the drowning of Arthur Braxton.

43: Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? - I don’t remember ever star gazing with anyone so myself I guess.

45: Do you trust your instincts a lot? - Not really. Idk. I’m a fucking idiot so either way doesn’t end well anyway.

47: What food do you think should be banned from the universe? - There is so much I would love to ban omg. I’m gonna get hate for this but spinach and quavers must go.

49: Do you like buying CDs and records? What was the last one you bought? - Yes I love CDs, I have about 70 atm but there’s still loads more that I want. I don’t have a record player so there’s not much point buying records but I wish I did have one. I last bought material by blaqk audio and dreamcars CD, but they haven’t arrived yet and I’m getting impatient even tho they were only ordered yesterday.

51: Think of a person. what song do you associate with them? - I don’t really associate songs with people but I associate reincarnate by motionless in white with my friend because I have a video with them screaming along to it when we saw them.

53: Have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? - I’ve watched both versions of rocky horror and I love them, its my favourite musical and how I discovered reeve carneys music. I also love Beetlejuice but I haven’t seen the others.

55: What’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? - I have no idea.

Thank you!!! I think I’ve answered all the right ones

#answered #5horrorprinces

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