And I Fall
yoongi/taehyung (+ side!pairings), NC-17, 67477 words.
Yoongi’s too focused on watching Taehyung’s dirt-smeared, long fingers drag across a vine that he walks into a shelf. Something wobbles. In an instant, Taehyung’s there, a hand on his back and the other snatching the snow globe that almost fell.
“Oops,” Taehyung says, too close. A smile curls up his face. His voice is low and Yoongi shivers. “Don’t wanna break that. I’d have to hire you to exterminate the very angry yeti inside.” Taehyung steps back, hand leaving Yoongi’s back. Yoongi can breathe again. “Look, so small and cute. Very ferocious in real life.”
He shakes the snow globe and holds it in front of Yoongi’s face.
-
Or, the Constantine AU no one asked for, where Yoongi is a bitter exorcist crushing on magic store-owner Taehyung, with no idea how to deal with his feelings. Plus demons.
2 notes
·
View notes
No no because I love your depiction of Jet??? Oh my god?? Like hell yeah hes a fearless leader of a freedom fighting rebellion group he built from the ground up but he’s also?? JUST A TEEN!! JUST A BOY!! Teenage boys get butterflies too!!??
🌾 ・ POCKETFUL OF BUTTERFLIES
summ. Operation: Creeping Cricket was a botch. It looks like you and Jet aren’t gonna be headed home anytime soon.
pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader
w.count. 1.1k
a/n. ANON YOURE SO RIGHT. Sometimes we forget Jet is really just a teenage boy grappling with hormones and feelings and everything inbetween! Enjoy this short continuation to Hand in Loving Hand!
You take a mental note to thank Longshot and his squirrel-like tendencies to hide emergency stashes up in trees for times like these.
“Here,” Jet says softly, “Y’might catch a cold soon.”
The change of clothes he offers you is weathered, but a warm welcome respite from the frigid chill that’s settled into your bones.
Operation Creeping Cricket had been a complete bust. Your narrow escape is a stroke of luck with all things considered, and at least the rain has finally stopped. It doesn’t help that both you and Jet are soaked head to toe, however, and the fact that the temperatures in the forests by Omashu can drop critically.
Your cheeks are raw; your fingers ache— but you manage to begin peeling off the layers of your clothes one by one to dry by the campfire. From across, Jet’s already managed to change out. He frowns in concern from where he’s sitting by the fire, watching you tip over a boot of water.
“You’re shaking.”
“Shivering,” you correct, trying to stop the chatter of your teeth. You wonder if biting on a wheat straw like how Jet is doing right now would help. “But, yes. Same thing I suppose.”
Then you’re untying the strings of your tunic, and pulling it swiftly over your head.
Jet barely has time to react.
He practically snaps his neck turning away, eyes wide.
The whiplash, the innocent attempt at privacy, has you biting back a laugh.
Ever the gentleman.
“You can look now,” you finally say, after a quick minute, and Jet is careful to turn.
The garments that Longshot had stashed practically drowns your figure, sleeves bundling at the wrists; collar wide and dipping low enough to reveal the corded necklace you never remove. And then there’s the glow of the fire, honeying you in amber light as you run your fingers through your damp hair.
You’re… effortlessly beautiful. He’s not quite sure there’s any other way to describe you.
“That bad, huh?” you ask, pinned under his gaze.
Jet startles. “Sorry, I— No, you just, look cold, still.”
He clears his throat as the tips of his ears burn. He hopes to the Spirits beyond you hadn’t noticed them go red. (You did.)
“Well, so do you.” You reach back into Longshot’s knapsack and tug out a blanket from inside, before making your way across to the log Jet’s settled on. The material is tanned and threadbare, but it would do for the night.
Your hands brush as you wrap the cloth around the both of you.
It’s difficult not to focus on just how warm Jet is. Even more difficult not to lean against him.
It hadn’t mattered much in the end, though; Jet shifts closer, and presses his shoulder against yours.
“Y’okay?” You ask, gentle.
Under the dim firelight, his hard edges seem to soften. The fearless leader of the Freedom Fighters can be surprisingly endearing. Suddenly, Jet is simply another survivor; another casualty of war.
He shrugs lightly, careful not to jostle you, and makes a face. “Eh. We’ve faced worse, haven’t we?”
You laugh, ducking into his shoulder. Jet wonders if you can physically feel the butterflies taking flight in his chest.
There’s a spill of flowers behind you— budding Moonflowers, he recognises; native to Earth Kingdom wildlife— and has half the mind to pluck one and hand it to you.
He chews harder on the straw in his mouth instead.
( He knows you don’t see him that way, anyway. You’d made that clear before. ‘We’re family,’ is what you’d told him; Him and the rest of the Freedom Fighters. ‘Found family.’ And while he isn’t complaining, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t imagine atleast once what it’d be like to be something more with you.
Even if you did, he’s not quite sure he’d act on it. He’s not quite sure he can allow himself to be that vulnerable to someone. Not when he's a wanted man; not when subjecting someone into his dangerous lifestyle is the last thing he wants— even if said someone had signed up for it. )
“I’ll take first watch.” he says, after a moment.
“Y’sure? I don’t mind doing it. I promise I’ll wake you up this time.”
He laughs at the old memory. The smile, however, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. You need rest.”
Quietly, you read him. Measure the micro-expressions that pass his face. Having fought alongside Jet throughout the years of survival made it easier. Whenever night falls, and the weight of his duties could settle if only for a little while, you could finally see all of him. Just a teenager who’s fighting for what he believed in; a kid who had to take on the world too early.
That illusion of 24/7 confidence falls around you often, though never around the younger rebels. You’ve kept the privilege close to your heart.
“You’re worried.”
He picks on the hearth for a moment, listens to the crackle of the fire.
Jet doesn’t doubt the Freedom Fighters’ capabilities. Longshot’s probably camping out somewhere in the trees with Smellerbee and The Duke, and Pipsqueak and Sneers can navigate these forests even better than him. They’ve all probably made it home already, knowing them.
And yet. And yet—
“Yeah,” he says. He didn’t like admitting it, because it implied they couldn’t protect themselves. It’d have meant he isn’t confident in them; that he, to some degree, didn’t trust them. It’s a twisted mindset, he recognises, but he can’t quite help his way of thinking these days. He didn’t like admitting he cared more than he really should— it’d be a concession. An admission.
An admission that he might truly snap if he lost any of the Freedom Fighters; that he might truly break if, Spirits forbid, he’d lose you.
The thought sends a frisson up his spine.
That shouldn’t scare him. It shouldn’t.
He blinks, shakes his head. “That obvious?”
“No. But I’ve known you for years now,” you nudge. “It’s okay to worry, y’know? You can care. You do care. There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to act like you don’t for the sake of appearing calm and collected and… cool.”
He cocks his head at that, musters a playful smile. “Ah. So you think I’m cool?”
It’s meant to derail the conversation. Fortunately for him, it’s successful. Jet watches you bow your head and laugh; the bright one, the kind that makes his heart sing.
Camaraderie, he reminds himself, swallowing thickly as he reluctantly turns away from you. Nothing more, nothing less.
258 notes
·
View notes
Template by @juni38
Im going to be completely frank with you all... and admit that I read these options and wasn't sure how to take this chart,,, so uh. Under the cut is Another Version. I'd apologize but I've given you the option to keep scrolling ¯\_(・・)_/¯
(If you notice characters missing on Kim's side, I probably figured she doesn't know who they are lol)
For the record,,, if they *wanted* me to pull their hair-- *is shot several times before I can continue*
Uhh Matthew is here because I have been converted fully on he/him or enby lesbian Matthew I think. He lives in my brain rent free now, very gender. I'd pull his hair but also I think he mostly just deserves to have it played with nicely.
And Scott's here because 1) I enjoy trans Scott, 2) Kim Pine Brain Rot possibly, 3) idk he's like,, the exception. God damnit, I've fallen for the inexplicable Scott Pilgrim Effect. What the fuck--
I did think about doing this chart like everyone was actually applicable to my tastes, but even if they were I think the ones I didn't put up would have to fall on the caress side bc I just don't feel that way abt them lol.
Again, not to say that's the case for the gals over on that side,,, I just think I would want to be gentle w them shxkdjsdhbd with the exception for Lynette who probably deserves to have her hair pulled, but again I fear she would Hurt Me,,, but maybe in a fun way,,,
Anyway No One Look At Me....
(,, also,,, Ramona is so far over bc I think she would enjoy it,, otherwise she'd be closer to Kim in that section. Same thing w Roxie)
If anyone actually looks at this version, I'm not opposed to doing a version like this for Kim btw! Just ask for it so I feel like I'm not just Dropping This and scurrying away
18 notes
·
View notes
It's not like he went into this planning not to tell anyone. People don't ask him if he has kids. So he just... forgets to mention it. Yeah. Forgets.
Flower is an aberration, (not an accident, he's not hiding). Scares the shit out of him while he's on the phone with the babysitter and of course it's Flower who finds him this deep in the tunnels after a game (it's not until after that he realizes Flower didnt tell him what he was doing and Flower never got him back for the hotel did he?). Then the Fleurys start sending packages and everything has flowers or green and he sends pictures of his kid and he keeps not talking because Flower knows, he'll talk. Situation handled.
Except no one else reaches out. But, Connor's the one who waited right? Maybe they learned subtlety (except he's seen the posts that crop up when the wild play the avs. Brandon passing his kid around and Connor could've been there but he isn't. Maybe they- it's fine. Shawzy is coming to visit soon, they'll do introductions then. Talk.)
So Connor is still in Toronto, still trying to figure his shit out and not thinking about the latest avs post of "Deweys on ice" when Flower texts him back. It isn't a response to the photo he sent but asking if he really didn't tell anyone, and then his phone is blowing up. Tips, chirps, demands for photos and what the fuck dew, do you think we're bad influences or something Connor? Brandon lets us hold his kid. Is- is the kid okay Connor? And time keeps passing except now Connor gets more packages and his calendar is filling up with guys visiting and-
There's a text from Bolds, or was it Shawzy?, buried in his phone, about telling Brandon either that first day everyone found out or close to it. About what he'd said. Connor could find it. If he wanted (He knows exactly where it is, what it says, who sent it, and how long he has to scroll to get to it). Brandon hasn't said anything about the kid. Connor could text first. The Fleurys have sent them the same things. They could laugh about it. But Brandon knows and he hasn't said anything. So Connor keeps not talking.
(Okay, I'm done now, actually, promise, can only hand wave the schedule and such for so long -J)
i won’t have time to type out a reply that’ll do your ideas justice & i don’t want to just leave this in my drafts and knowing me forget about it, so can i just say that i appreciate you writing what’s essentially an entire fic outline directly into my inbox.
14 notes
·
View notes