bridges on the body

Collided | Min Yoongi

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Suga) x reader


!!! Do not read if you feel uncomfortable with that theme !!!

Word count: idk but it’s not long?

Synopsis - sometimes you don’t meet your significant other in the best of circumstances

Non Idol! AU

“Excuse me?”

You stare at the water under your feet. The cold water of Han river. Your eyes flutter shut as you step foward, your body being on the other side of the metal fence on the bridge.

Before your foot slipped off the edge of the ground and your body falling down meters down in the depths of the river-an arm grabs yours, holding you securely.

“Sorry for inferring miss, but I’m not a fan of watching people throw themselves off of the bridge and kill themselves, so I had to do something.”

You feel yourself being pulled up, a man managing to pull your small frame back on the ground.

Without saying anything, you quickly get on your feet, your legs feeling like jelly-but being stubborn person you are, you still push your body to function properly and try to walk away from the scene.

“You left your phone” The stranger’s voice rang through your ears once again, making you quickly turn around.

“Please give it back.” You speak up

“Not yet. First, go with me on a meal. You seem like you haven’t eaten in days, and then I’ll give it back~” The man smirked, looking down at you with kind of kind expression

“Alright…” You agree

It’s not like you had anything to loose. Plus, the man saved you, so this is at least what you can do.


“Why did you do it? Well, try to do it?” The stranger askes

“Um, a lot of things happened in short notice and I just…I don’t know, I just thought it would be easier if I end the pain?” You explain, keeping it short so you wouldn’t bore the kind stranger

“I understand you, but please, don’t try it ever again. It’s not the only solution.” He replied just before the waiter brought the food to the two of you

“By the way, I’m Min Yoongi.” He says casually

“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You smile back

“You know Y/N, maybe we could do this more often. It’s nice break for me from my work, and I’m sure you like it too.” He said after minute of silence

“I agree.” You replied happily

It was a wierd feeling in your stomach. He seemed so casual and laid back and nice, that you actually were comfortable with being in his presence.

What did you do to deserve to meet him?


“I’ll say it one more time Y/N, don’t you ever dare to take the blanket away from me.” Yoongi said, sending you a glare

“It’s mine.” You dead pan

“Do I seem like I care?” He shrugged, once again taking it away from you, although you didn’t bother to have it again

“Yoongi you shit, you eat so much! You ate all the ice cream, pop corn and whole pizza.” You groaned

“You ate too. A lot. But since I’m hungry again, let’s go to the near convenience store. Hurry up tho, I don’t have years to wait for you.” Yoongi said, lazily getting up

“I’ll end up paying again, so don’t bother me that much.” You replied, following him as he made his way out of your small apartment

It was crazy how fate could surprise you when you think there’s nothing more left. Min Yoongi entered your life so spontaneously, you did think at first he would leave the same way he appeared, without a trace.

It’s scared you for a long time, making you spend countless of sleepless nights thinking about the man.

But you two grew close very fastly, though. Just a day after he saved you from your suicide attempt, he called you at 11 pm because he was hungry and didn’t have with who to go out and eat. And that’s how your friendship bloomed.

“I want chocolate ice cream” Yoongi said, holding the box of dessert in his hands

“Put it in the cart” You nod your head towards the cart behind you, which were slowly but surely getting filled with snacks and sweets. Let’s hope you two won’t end up weighting twice as much you do now.

“My legs hurt, let’s go back home.” He groaned behind you, pulling your hoodie in process. He was just centimeters apart from you-

“O-okay” You nodded quickly, stepping slightly away from him, discretely enough so he won’t notice a change on you.

Sometimes Yoongi made you feel weird when you’re laying close next to him. The feeling in your stomach doesn’t stop unless you move away. And you hated it, and you never spoke about it.


It was around 2 am, yet Yoongi and you were still binge eating all the stuff you bought a while ago. The TV didn’t even interest you anymore, because the food was your main focus, with short conversations cutting the comfortable silence

“Y/N..?” Yoongi’s low voice brought you back to reality, his dark eyes staring at yours.

“Yeah?” You answer with question, not understanding why he became so tense all of sudden

“We are hanging out literally everyday for 2 and a half months…why do you still not want to tell me?”

“Yoongi, I-”

“No, Y/N. I’m your friend, and your savior. I want to know, now.” He said, not breaking the eye contact.

“Because it’s stupid reason when I think about it now. I was silly and didn’t think clearly-”

“Why, Y/N?” Yoongi asked, this time with more anger or irritation laced in his voice

“I was abused!” You yelled, your hands flying in front of your face to protect yourself-a habit from before. Your eyes were shut tight, and you were biting your lip hard.

Yoongi’s eyes grew wide as he scanned your petite figure in front of him. You seemed so fragile now, being pulled up in a ball like you don’t want to be hit.

“I-I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.” He chocked on the words, his voice barely above the whisper

He was debating whether he should move away from you and give you space or talk to you right now. But above all, he only wanted to hold you in his arms, yet he decided to abandon that idea.

“I didn’t mean to push you this much, I’m sorry..” He whispers, his arms unwrapping yours from your knees.

You were looking back at him, making him able to adore all your facial features. He loved your eyes, they were sincere and he could see stars reflecting in them and he was very aware how cheesy that sounded. But he didn’t care, it was the truth.

“I-I know, I trust you. It was just an instinct and-”

It was absolutely the best way to make you shut your mouth.

His pale pink lips softy touched yours, kissing them like there’s no tomorrow. After all, he kept the urge of kissing you locked in himself for 2 and a half months now, and he didn’t want to do it anymore.

“Yoongi..” His name rolled off your tounge perfectly, and it was music to his ears.

His hand was gently placed on your cheek, caressing it as he kissed you.

“Uh, that was..”

“Stupid, I know. But I had to do it, I’m sorry if I made you feel awkwa-”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Min Yoongi. That was the best kiss in my life.” You smiled shyly, watching how his cheeks got ref

“Fine then. Y/N want to continue this movie night? But think of it as a kind of date night.” He grinned, pecking your lips

“Well of course. I ain’t spend so much money on food for it to go waste.”

“And this is why I love you.”

Let’s promise each other something: because darling, oh darling. I know you want to press pause on the movie that is your life, because I do, I do. And I know you sometimes get so tired of carrying the weight of the world on those slim shoulders. I know you look into the mirror and see plain features and feel roaring waves of inadequacy, I know, I know.

I know you’ve got a little voice whispering inside of you you’ll never be good enough. I know you try to protect yourself, to shield yourself to not care because you fear the heartbreak that comes with caring to much but doing this makes you put yourself on the sidelines, makes people stop inviting you and I know, God, I know how much this hurts.

So let’s promise each other something: whenever this happens, this little voice trying so hard to protect us and only winding up hurting us: let’s promise each other to cry a little, to cry a lot. To take a shower, to listen to music and really, truly listen, think about nothing else. To write about wanting to give up but to keep on going, to eat something healthy too, even if we eat up a whole pack of potato chips or chocolate cookies, to grant ourselves this small reprieve instead of hating ourselves afterwards for the way we can pinch our belly between skinny fingers.

Listen to me, please, let’s promise each other to take a walk, to walk past a bridge or a body of water, to admire the darkness but remember the coldness and to keep on going. Remember that stranger that smiled, the one that helped you reach a high shelve, that picked up some change and gave it back, to remember the bus driver that waited on that busy intersection to let you get on, to remember all those little kindnesses from strangers you’ll never forget and to remember that we, too, have got so many little kindnesses to give and that there must be a stranger out there somewhere that remembers these plain features, these brown eyes and not so white teeth.

Let’s promise each other, that, please, please, but let’s also promise each other to sometimes let go and cry and to look after ourselves. Let’s remember that being kind and nice and good does not mean letting people walk over ourselves. And let’s define ourselves: if we like to be alone, sometimes, if we like to close the curtains against the world and drown in music and song, why be jealous of that one friend that is always talking to someone if the mere idea of holding more than three conversations is exhausting. If you love that girl everyone else seems to find annoying, hold steady to it, say “I like her and I like you and is there a problem?” because nothing will feel worse, and of this I am so absolutely certain, nothing will feel worse than betraying yourself.
Darling please, let’s promise each other, that on those lowest moments, on those darkest nights, when we feel like no one will love us ever, we’ll think of our achievements, even if they were something that feels so small and insignificant, like eating one cookie less or getting out of bed, if we were proud of them they matter and so do we. So do we.

And let’s promise each other we’ll think of our families, or about the friends we’ve had and that even though it always felt like we were the second choice, we were a choice, so they wanted us in their lives. Let’s think of the stranger we once helped, and think that maybe they remember us. Let’s think of the things that we love, and let’s think about the fact that the CO2 we expel from our lungs feed plants and bacteria and that we matter. That we have done some good in this world and that hopefully we’ll be able to do some more. That everything will be all right someday as long as we keep going.
Darling, let’s promise each other, that though we are strangers that may have never met, I’ll love you and you’ll love me, and we’ll think about each other sometimes, because we understand each other so perfectly, because I know that voice in your head as well as you know the ache in my bones and the tiredness of my eyelids, and we’ll keep on existing and breathing and loving and not giving up no matter how many times our heart breaks because we know they are not alone in breaking and so maybe, just maybe, they will not be alone in healing either because we will have each other to think of, to remember and to smile through the tears together.

Finally getting the hang of drawing my A.I.s robot body designs.

Introducing Auto.

Auto enjoys napping, watching sunrises/sets and building bridges 

Kisses {Harry Styles Smut}

WORD COUNT: 10k y’all!!!

this is my longest one shot, it took up like 20 pages on microsoft word lmfao !! anyways it took me a bit longer than usual bc i went through a slight block (rip) but it is finished and i’m quite proud of it!! feedback is much appreciated, it rly motivates me!! ok that’s it i hope u enjoy :-)


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hanzo okami skin update. pls wrap him up in fake fur and give him many kisses

The River

The town I grew up in was surrounded by a river. No matter which road you took leaving town you had to cross it. The ancient, muddy Big Sioux River. Every spring and sometimes in the summer it would rage and flood until it felt like the town was under siege. No one could leave and no one could enter until it subsided.

Coming home from the bar one night, my grandfather missed the bridge. He was going almost one hundred miles an hour when his ‘58 Chevy jumped the river, crashing into the opposite bank. He was decapitated. His body impaled by the steering column. They never did find his head.

Strangely enough, some twenty years earlier while fishing in that same river, he reeled in the top part of a human skull. He took it to the Sheriff who sent it off to a lab in the city. They tested it and found that it was over 200 hundred years old and most likely Native American. The lab returned the skull to the Sheriff and he gave it back to my grandfather.

Grandfather kept the skull in the basement. He’d take it out and show it to you if he had a couple beers in him. I held it in my hands after he died. I wondered if it was somehow his skull and time was a strange circle.

I was ten when I saw my first dead body. It was on the bank of that same river, off a different road. Some guy wrecked his motorcycle in the night. His body lay next to the river under a blue tarp the cops had thrown over him. My dad pulled the truck over on the other side of the bridge and we walked to where the cops were. We leaned over the rail of the bridge right over the tarp as one of the cops pulled it off. A heavyset dude lay there, almost like he was asleep. But he was so white it was startling. He was wearing an Earl Campbell football jersey, the same kind Cristopher Cross wore in his music video for his mega 1980 hit “Sailing.”

When I was in college, I woke up one morning after a long night of debauchery and someone had covered me up with a blue tarp. I’d passed out in the back yard. When I first opened my eyes I didn’t know what the hell was going on. The world was on fire in blue. I thought I was dead under a tarp like that guy I’d seen when I was a kid. I swear I could actually hear the words to that Christopher Cross song.

“Well, it’s not far down to paradise, at least it’s not for me

And if the wind is right you can sail away and find tranquility”

When I was 14 my best friend and I drove a couple of girls down to the river and parked a hundred yards from where I’d seen the dead guy in the Earl Campbell jersey. My buddy and his girl took off with a 6-pack to build a fire in a clearing. I just kinda sat there as I hadn’t been alone with a girl since I was a little kid. I couldn’t think of anything to say so I told her about the body I’d seen when I was a young. She wanted to see where. I chugged the rest of my beer and grabbed a couple fresh ones, pointing out the way.

She laughed and dashed off and I dizzily chased her. She was pretty, far too pretty for me. I caught up with her by the bridge and told her the body had been on the other side. She grabbed a beer from me and cracked it open, accidentally spraying herself. She squealed like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I took off my t-shirt. She wiped her face with it, then ran off under the bridge to the other side.

She was stopped by a tangle of white gardenia plants all abloom. “This is the spot,” I said. “His family must have planted them,” she said, half shocked and half sad. I instinctively reached out to comfort her and she grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me full on the mouth. I almost passed out from the excitement and the beer and the running and the perfume and the gardenias and the death.

Three years later she shot herself in the heart with a 12-gauge shotgun. She was pregnant. It wasn’t mine. We’d broken up more than a year before.

It didn’t make any goddamn sense. After I heard about it, I got in my car and drove. I wanted to get the fuck out of that stupid little town. It had been raining for three days and the river had flooded. So I pulled over and watched it. The water was raging in wild white cap torrents and I wondered if the bridge would hold.

Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts. Whenever your mind becomes scattered, use your breath as the means to take hold of your mind again.
Perfect Ten

Summary:  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, Dean’s slight pudge has always been a part of himself that he’s never felt completely comfortable with.  After a few miserable days of unsuccessful dieting and choking down rabbit food, Cas reminds him exactly how beautiful he is.   

“You’re getting kinda chubby!”  

Charlie makes this remark lightly, offhandedly, as she passes by Dean on the way to breakfast that morning:  Dean had been stretching his arms overhead in a yawn so that his cotton shirt rode up over his stomach, which Charlie takes the opportunity to poke.

Startled, he looks down just in time to see the disconcerting way in which her fingertip sort of smushes into the soft, freckly flesh.  

Dean halts in his tracks, blinking comprehensively.  “Wait, what?”  is all he can think to say.

Charlie, who’d been nonchalantly continuing on her way down the hall, turns to look at him.  “Well, you don’t have to sound so offended about it,” she laughs.  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything!”

Dean folds his arms defensively.  “Then what did you mean, Charles?”

“First of all, I answer only to Charlie, Ms. Bradbury, or the Illustrious Queen of Moondoor.  Next, I just meant you put on a couple pounds.  Maybe getting a bit of a tummy.  It’s no big deal.”

Dean looks comprehensively down at his stomach.  Now that he thinks about it, he has been eating more these days – he’s been going through sort of a “nesting period” during his relationship with Cas:  lots of baking pies, burgers, etc.  He didn’t think it was noticeable.  

Taking note of the gravity of his expression, Charlie laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder.  “You don’t have to look so glum about it!  It’s cute.”

Dean glowers at her, tugging self consciously at his t-shirt.  “M’not cute,” he mutters grouchily.  “I’m a warrior.

Charlie laughs again.  “Alright, warrior.  Hurry up and take care of your morning breath – Kevin’s making waffles again!”

With that, Charlie skips off down the hall, leaving Dean to steep in his juices.  He lets Charlie laugh it off, of course – he knows she didn’t mean any harm – but the fact is, Dean’s always known he’s had a little bit of pudge around his midsection, and he’s always been the slightest bit insecure about it.  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, it’s one of the things about himself that he’s never particularly liked.  

His one solace was convincing himself that these features weren’t as noticeable to everyone else as they are to him.  Now, that seems to have changed.  

Dean pulls up the rim of his shirt, noting sourly the way in which his pudge protrudes slightly over the waistband of his pajama pants.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so hungry anymore.

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