eye whitener

Burning Like Liquor

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Smut, slow burn(?)

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: cheating (not involving Seokjin), sexual content

Summary: You don’t know why it is you find yourself in front of the rich, arrogant, Kim Seokjin’s penthouse after discovering your boyfriend with your best friend. You wonder why you chose to come to him, of all people, wonder why it’s him that you feel can be your only distraction, wonder why you seem convinced that he is the answer to the equation you’ve never been able to solve. 

Kim Seokjin wonders why it’s you that ignites a raging inferno under his skin when he usually feels nothing at all.

A woman’s bra thrown haphazardly on the floor. That’s the first thing you see when you step into your boyfriend’s apartment. A little further down the dimly lit hall, a pair of pink stilettos that don’t belong to you, a pair of hastily removed black pants, an undone tie, and a deep scarlet dress that’s torn down the front. Two unfinished glasses of wine sit alone on the coffee table. One has the imprint of bright red lipstick smeared along the rim, marring the otherwise perfect chrome surface. It glows crimson in the pale light of the apartment, a scarlet letter. You’re not exactly sure how to categorize how you feel as your heart plummets like a stone in your chest, not sure how to describe the bitter cold that threads its way through your body, every nerve crystallizing into ice until even your fingertips are numb. The room drifts out of focus and you’re seeing double—two pairs of those offending pink heels, two black ties, two sets of those infuriating half-filled wine glasses—and it isn’t until you blink a stinging, humiliating teardrop out of your eye that you realize you’re crying. The entire world slams back into crystalline focus.

You’re numb as you walk down the hallway to the bedroom, movements mechanical and dissociated. The pathway is decorated with hastily abandoned articles of clothing. You aren’t stupid, by any means, fully aware of the scene that’ll undoubtedly greet you, but some perverse, insidious desire for confirmation prickles under your skin. You had noticed how his schedule had gradually become busier and busier, noticed how his responses to your messages became slower and slower, noticed how even when he was right next to you, he felt miles away. So you can’t describe your emotions as surprised when you step into the doorway and see the silhouette of a naked woman in his bathroom and see him in the middle of the room, only a towel wrapped around his waist. He freezes completely when he sees you. But your eyes aren’t on him. Instead, they’re drawn to the oh-so-familiar back of the woman in the bathroom. You can’t help but think about a nearly identical scene two years ago, flashing in your mind’s eye, as the exact same wave of dread drops over your shoulders. It feels like a funeral shroud.

“(Y/N),” he breathes, and she whirls in surprise.

Your best friend’s eyes land directly on yours.

Not again. It feels as if you’ve been kicked in the stomach, all the air in your lungs escaping your throat in a twisted little sound of pain and betrayal you barely recognize. You feel your heart shatter in your chest. The pain is raw and blinding and it tears through your entire body, unforgiving and without mercy. It’s both scalding and freezing at the same time.

She can’t bring herself to look away from your eyes. Even she can’t find any words, tongue stumbling over an empty explanation, and your boyfriend moves to shield her from your view, protecting her even now. Blood roars in your ears as you turn away, a flood of emotions slamming into you all at once, too quickly for you to process. This time you recognize the burn of tears in your eyes. Each one sears a burning path down your cheek as you stumble aimlessly out of the apartment building and hail a cab.


You don’t know why you end up in front of Kim Seokjin’s penthouse. You feel empty now, utterly hollow. It seems as if you had already cried out every drop of sadness in the fifteen minute drive, your eyes dry and throat hoarse. You slam your fist on the door twice and cross your arms impatiently, still unable to process the raging chaos of thoughts racing through your mind.

You hear movement inside and a muffled sigh. A glass clinks against a table top. “Jungkook, I told you—” The door opens and Seokjin’s tall frame appears, bronzed hair tousled. A wry grin spreads across his face and he cocks his head as he takes in your disheveled appearance in a slow, sweeping gaze. “You’re not Jungkook,” he says, intelligently. “What a lovely—”

You push past him, thoughts still thundering in your ears. You wonder why you chose to come to him, of all people, wonder why it’s him that you feel can be your only distraction, wonder why it’s him that can make you feel anything at all.

“Yes, come on in. Make yourself at home,” he calls after you sarcastically, scoffing in disbelief as he watches you collapse onto his couch.

“You have alcohol, don’t you?” Your hands come up to cover your face as your head falls back against the cushion. You want to forget more than anything right now. You want to experience everything from the detached, muted haze of alcohol.

You hear him close the door. “Why?” he asks, voice lilting. “Did you finally come to terms with the harsh reality of your dear, cheating boyfriend?”

Your eyes snap open and heat rushes to your face. He returns your glare evenly, head cocked to the side. “What, you didn’t think everyone already knew?” He lets out a biting laugh, but there’s nothing humorous about it. “That’s why you’re here now, isn’t it? To drink yourself into a stupor so you can forget all your problems?”

His words sting, cutting deeper into your already battered heart. “Why else would I ever come to you?” you shoot back acrimoniously.

The smile on his face stiffens, his eyes locking with yours momentarily. After a beat of silence he turns, pulling open a cabinet behind him and placing two crystal glasses on the marble countertop. “What do you feel like?”

“Anything other than wine.” You want to wash the lump in your throat down with the burning fire of alcohol. “The stronger the better.”

Seokjin nods in assent, selecting a short, dark bottle filled with a golden fluid.

When he hands you your drink, he brushes unnecessarily close to you, choosing to walk behind the couch so that he can press the drink into your hand by leaning in so close you can feel his hot breath fanning over your neck. You don’t really mind. The warmth he emits is comforting, and it disappears all too quickly when he steps around the corner of the couch to sink into the leather beside you. “To forgetting everything,” he says drily, raising his glass. His arm nudges yours to indicate for you to do the same.

You grimace in response but clink your glass to his anyway, just to humor him. “To forgetting,” you echo, and bring the liquor to your lips, taking a giant gulp.

It burns like fire going down your throat. You cough and splutter as you struggle to swallow, throat flaming and eyes stinging. The alcohol sears a blazing path down your body as it slides down your chest to your stomach.

“Careful,” Seokjin warns wryly, taking an equally large swallow without flinching. “You’ll only be able to drink like that after many of these nights.”

You ignore his warning and knock back your head with another large draught, grimacing as you swallow. It slides down smoothly this time. The warmth pools in your chest and blooms in a white hot heat that curls slowly outwards and causes your blood to rise to your cheeks, tinting them a bright crimson. Yet you feel a perverse sense of satisfaction at the pain, a bitter smile curling your wetted lips. “Isn’t it funny?” you say into the bottom of your glass, eyes glazed and distant as you watch the golden ichor-like fluid swirl hypnotizingly slowly in your hands. You ask no one in particular—it’s an empty question asked only by those who don’t want answers. Seokjin listens anyway. “I’m not even surprised. You’d think that I would be satisfied now, finally knowing the truth I had suspected all along.” Your eyes burn along with the liquor in your chest. Seokjin doesn’t say anything, only sips on his drink in silence as he watches you from the corner of his eye. You let out another bitter laugh. “You’d think I could feel liberated now, knowing the truth.”

Seokjin scoffs into his glass. “Now, (Y/N), you know better than that, don’t you? That’s never how it works. You should know better.”

Blood boils in your veins.  You want to push him, to force something genuine out him. You want to see something real from the unfeeling Kim Seokjin. You’re destruction in the form of harsh, caustic words, and you want Kim Seokjin to come tumbling down with you. “It was Eunwoo,” you snap suddenly, focusing your blazing glare on him as you say her name so you can watch his reaction. You want to see the pain on his face. You want someone else to experience the same betrayal and anger, the same pure, raw pain. You want to feel something, and there was no one better than Seokjin for that. You don’t want to be alone in someone else’s company. Not now.

He freezes, his glass half tipped back, the drink just barely grazing his lips.

“The girl he’s been fucking behind my back. It’s Eunwoo.” A cruel smile twists the edge of your lips. “You like her, don’t you? I’ve seen you watching her when she’s with me.”

You watch with twisted satisfaction as his eyes darken and knuckles whiten around his glass, still frozen mid-sip.

“My best friend, Eunwoo. Eunwoo, beautiful and intelligent.” Acid in your lungs and saccharine poison drips in your words. “Eunwoo, who all the men fall for. Eunwoo, who has drawn in every man I’ve ever fallen for.” You spit her name like a curse. You don’t know if the burning in your chest is from the liquor anymore. “Eunwoo, who has fucked not one, but two of my boyfriends behind my back.” A sliver of the betrayal you feel slips into your voice treacherously, contorting your words so they fall out with a broken inflection. “Why do you like her?”

“What do you mean?” He lowers his drink from his lips, eyes still storming. Good.

“Eunwoo. Why do you like her?”

He turns his head away from you with a sigh. “I can’t answer that.”

It infuriates you. “Why?” you press, unable to stop yourself from self-destruction. “Are you in love with her?” Your eyes are probing, listening intently with a shameless, desperate curiosity for his answer. You anticipate his yes, his dry confirmation in that viscous, smooth voice of his. Yes, he loves Jung Eunwoo. He’ll say it with pain in his dark eyes, you’re sure. But despite yourself, even as you wait expectantly for his yes, your ears desperately listen for his no. No, Kim Seokjin does not love Jung Eunwoo. No, Jung Eunwoo’s presence in the wistful corners of his guarded thoughts does not mean more to him than your presence here, right next to him. No, what Kim Seokjin feels for Jung Eunwoo does not take precedence over what he feels right now. No, you are not alone in someone else’s company. You can’t bear that anymore.

Seokjin laughs, but the sound is harsh and wrong. “Did you love your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you say decisively, relishing in the way his eyes flick over to you immediately, eyes dark and intense, knowing he wasn’t expecting an answer. “I did.” Perhaps it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins, or maybe it’s Seokjin’s piercing, heavy gaze, but your tongue is loose tonight and you crave his rapt, burning attention.

“Why?” His eyes have darkened several shades. They pin you and you feel as if they are slowly peeling back the layers you have buried yourself under, exposing you, making you naked under his gaze.

“He cared,” you say finally, after a few moments of dead silence.

Seokjin lets out a harsh breath of disbelief. “That’s it?” He snaps his fingers and widens his eyes as if he’s had an epiphany, pointing at you with his index finger. “So the mailman—you’ll love him too? And Park Jimin, your friend? Ah, and who else, your boss? That’s all it takes for you to love someone? He just has to care?”

You ignore his sarcasm and wrap your hands around the glass in your lap, thoughts far away. Your finger runs absently around the rim, wetting in the condensation. “No,” you say, so quietly it’s almost inaudible. “He cared about me. Like I mattered.” That bitter, sad smile returns to your lips once more. “I wanted to matter to him.”

Seokjin swallows his anger as he watches you, your gaze distant as your fingers slowly slacken around the glass placed so precariously in your lap, the liquid sloshing dangerously.

He leans forward and catches the drink in your hands just as it begins to slip from your grasp. His skin burns hot against yours as his hand wraps around your fingers to cup the glass, his much larger hand easily dominating yours. Your body tenses at the contact. The glass is cold against your palms, but his hands are blazing, the heat pulsating from him igniting you. It’s as if time has stopped completely. Your breath stills completely in your throat, and it seems as if Seokjin’s has too, because he stares down at your small hands in his, unable to move. You watch the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows, his eyes trained on the light twitch of your fingers as the pad of his thumb sweeps the delicate skin of your hand. The stroke is so light and tentative you barely feel it, but it still sends shivers down your spine.  

“Am I really so dumb to want that?” you breathe, cutting into the silence.

You immediately regret asking. He seems to come back down to reality, pulling his hand away from yours hastily as he straightens. That hand that grasped yours curls into a fist in his lap. Instantly, your hands feel cold again, the ember that he had ignited in you flickering away to ash. You crave his warmth, his touch. You crave the feeling of those burning fingers ghosting your cold skin again.

“No,” he manages, his voice thick and low.

“How do you know?” you press. You don’t know what it is you’re expecting to hear. An admission? A confession? But curiosity boils in your veins nevertheless.

His jaw clenches tightly. He turns to face you, eyes dark and smoldering as he holds your probing gaze. The grayed ember reignites in the pit of your stomach as you look at him, his tousled bronze hair glinting in the light, the top button of his shirt undone and just barely exposing his chest. He watches your eyes travel down to his ruby lips, full and soft, and you can’t seem to pull your eyes away, drawn like a bee to honey, utterly enraptured. His face is less than a foot from yours. Sweet breath mixes with yours. Cologne fills your senses. He draws in closer—there are less than six inches between his mouth and yours. “It was never Eunwoo,” he murmurs, his full lips curving around each word.

It’s only four words, but they carry a thousand meanings. Time seem to slow to a crawl around you. It’s a simple elementary equation. Kim Seokjin is to either Jung Eunwoo or you. If the answer is not Jung Eunwoo, to whom is Kim Seokjin? Yet your mind can’t seem to wrap around the solution.

But you can understand the searing heat of Seokjin’s skin on yours. You can understand the throbbing desire that tears at you from within, craving for the heat of his gaze on you, his lips on your throat. You can understand that it is only Kim Seokjin that can ignite you from within and leave burning trails of fire every where he touches. You can understand the dull ache of pure, unadulterated need to feel that fire again.

Kim Seokjin is to you as you are to Kim Seokjin.

You set your glass down on the coffee table in front of you, slowly, without taking your eyes off of him. “Are you going to do anything about it?” It’s a challenge weakly guised under the pretense of an innocent question.

Kim Seokjin has never been one to back away from a challenge. A flood emotions flash in his eyes as you lean closer. “I won’t hold ba—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, closing the distance and finally, finally, crushing your lips against his. He abandons the glass in his hand, dropping it onto the wool carpet and ignoring the telltale slosh as it spills into multi thousand dollar fibres, undoubtedly staining. He couldn’t care less. The hand immediately comes to rest on the outside of your thigh, applying delicious pressure. You can’t help but notice that the curve of his hand fits you perfectly. You shift, moving your body so that you’re straddling him, your knees on either side of his spread legs. He tugs you closer, the hand once holding his glass slipping under your shirt and pulling your hips flush against his. It’s still cold, damp from the condensation left on his hand, and you shudder at the feeling. You fist your hands in the fabric covering his chest. You can feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt, thrumming under your fingertips as he deepens the kiss, his fingers dancing along the sides of your waist under your shirt.

You can taste the liquor on his lips, on his tongue, burning and sweet. Kim Seokjin kindles a fire in you that burns brighter than the alcohol.

You are the one to break the kiss, lips swollen and bitten. Everywhere he touched blazes. Heat blooms in your chest again, stronger than even the liquor in your veins. The memory of your boyfriend’s betrayal is far in the distance, already nearly forgotten, and all you can think is Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin, as you latch your lips onto his defined jawline, the sweet taste of his skin mingling with the salty thin sheen of sweat. He groans as your lips travel lower, along the column of his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His eyes flutter closed and his head falls back against the couch as you drag your teeth across his skin slowly, teasingly. You unbutton his shirt hastily as he reaches behind you to unzip your dress. His touch ignites a raging inferno as his warm hands push the fabric off of your shoulders and you tip your head with a breathy gasp of yes, Seokjin and he nearly loses himself, right then and there. Your head tips back to expose the creamy, smooth skin of your throat, lips parted. His hot mouth finds purchase in the newly exposed juncture of your neck and collarbone, lightly biting into that sensitive spot that makes goosebumps erupt along the surface and chills run down your spine, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

He shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders as you fumble with his belt impatiently. He chuckles, a low rumble that you feel against your skin, at your impatience, one eyebrow cocked before gently pushing you off of him so he can do it himself to remove his pants and briefs together. Your skin feels unnaturally cold without him pressing against you. You impatiently shrug off the rest of your clothing and throw it unceremoniously onto the floor. Just as he begins to stand, you push him back down onto the couch, your palms flattening against his toned chest. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks up at you, legs spread. He’s bigger than you expected, much bigger than your boyfriend had been. For a second, you worry that you won’t be able to take all of him in. But the need for Seokjin burning hot, so hot, in the pit of your stomach far outshines the slight prickle of worry.

You straddle him carefully, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders and fingernails digging into the warm skin. Just as you begin to position yourself on top of him, his hands come up to grip your hips, preventing you from moving. You look at his hands in surprise and desperation, unable to move against his firm hold. His jaw is tight from restraint. The muscle in his jaw twitches slightly when you whine, but he keeps his grip steady. His eyes are warm when you meet them, the pad of his thumb rubbing slow circles against the sensitive spot on your hip that sends a flash of warmth straight down between your thighs, where a dull ache burns.

One of his hands comes up to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you sure you want this?” His voice is strained from the effort, and he honestly doesn’t know what he’ll do if you say no.

“Please, Seokjin,” you whimper, and he relents, groaning your name under his breath.

You sink onto him slowly, reveling in the pleasure of feeling him stretch you so widely, fill you so deeply, and a gasp of pleasure escapes your lips as he bottoms out completely, rubbing your walls in all the right ways.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re so fucking tight.” His fingers grip your hips so tightly you’re sure he’ll leave bruises, knowing you need time to adjust.

Your head falls to the crook of his neck, teeth grazing his sensitive throat. “Fuck me, Seokjin,” you breathe. He shudders underneath you, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest. His hands burn against your skin as he lifts your hips, guiding you up and down, setting a smooth rhythm.

Your head falls back in pleasure as his hips roll against yours, hitting deep in you. Small gasps fall from your mouth at the pace he pushes into you, your eyes rolling back in euphoric pleasure as pressure builds from that dull ache at your core. Seokjin’s mouth is at your throat. His full, soft lips suck and nip at the sensitive exposed skin, down from your jaw, along your throat, ghosting the tops of your collarbones, heightening every sensation.

You roll your hips to meet his, clumsily at first, but the pleasure increases tenfold as he hits an entirely new spot deep in you and you let out a loud, heady moan, fingernails dragging down his chest as your other hand buries and twists in his silky hair, pulling slightly. He groans at your movements. “Does that feel good?” he manages, thick through his teeth. You can only let out a sharp cry of pleasure as he drives into you with a sudden quick snap of his hips. His grip tightens on your waist as he does it again, impaling you on him the same time he thrusts upwards, slamming into you. “Does it?”

“Y-yes,” you slur, head tipped back as he fastens his hungry lips on your jaw. “G-god you feel so fucking good, Seokjin.”

He hums against you in satisfaction at your answer, rutting into you faster, nipping and sucking every square inch of exposed skin he can reach. You can feel your orgasm building again. It tightens in your stomach and you rock your hips against his faster to convey your urgency.

Seokjin watches you through hooded lids, reveling in the way you’ve become so absolutely wrecked for him, your glistening lips parted in silent cries of ecstasy, your hair messy, eyes clenched shut as you mewl his name, begging for him to go faster, harder. “You’re so beautiful,” he says as he acquiesces and pounds faster, gritting his teeth when he feels your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Almost,” you pant shallowly, vision blurring as he continuously hits deep into you.

“Come for me, (Y/N),” he groans into your throat. “Now.”

You unravel with a sharp cry, your entire body tensing as you reach your release. Pleasure overtakes your body in waves as your nails drag down Seokjin’s shoulders. You can feel yourself tightening around him, desperately trying to milk out his orgasm, but he doesn’t relent, continuing to rut into you as you descend slowly from your high.

He stands, still buried in you, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his slim waist and your lips find his, hair falling forward like a curtain around your faces. There is only Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re pressed back against a cool plaster wall. The cold instantly seeps into your bare skin, and you yelp in surprise against his lips.

Seokjin smirks and he starts his hips again, rolling against you. One of your arms snakes around his neck, pulling him closer as your other hand tangles in his already mussed hair as he fucks you against the wall. He doesn’t go easy this time around, now trying to achieve his own high.

His hips slam against you relentlessly, forcing your back to rub against the wall with each deep thrust, adding an edge of pain to the pleasure that again tightens in your stomach.

“Seokjin,” you gasp as he hits that spot with a particularly hard thrust, your fingers tugging senselessly at his hair. You’re already on the precipice of your next orgasm, teetering dangerously on the edge as he fucks into you. You dig your heels into the small of his back, forcing him impossibly deeper, and your back arches in white pleasure.

Ff-fuck,” he stutters, his rhythm faltering. You can feel him swell inside you, filling you even more. “Say it again.” His teeth drag along the delicate skin of your shoulder. “My name.”

You smile, though he can’t see it. “Seokjin,” you sigh breathlessly, your lips pressed against the soft shell of his ear, your sharp nails raking down his back.

He tenses, body drawing completely taught, muscles flexing. Seokjin comes violently and messily, you learn. His body shakes as he releases, filling you with rope after rope as he rides out his orgasm, your name falling from his lips like a mantra.

You come undone once again at the feeling of him losing himself in you, your name on his lips, his hips stuttering. Your vision whitens as your fingernails dig so deeply into his back the skin breaks. Good. You want to mark him as yours. You want him to remember you. You want him to remember the burn of your bodies moving in perfect unison. Your lewd moan of release is muffled in his neck as he stills.

You feel his heartbeat thrumming against you, sticky skin pressed flush against sticky skin. You can feel is racing pulse under your swollen lips.

The room is silent except for the sounds of your combined heavy pants. Neither of you move as heartbeats slow and chests still.

You don’t want to move away, you think, even as you unhook your legs from around his back, even as you flatten your palms against his chest and apply gentle pressure. Your legs are unsteady but your push him anyway. Seokjin pulls out and steps away, catching you just as you lose balance.

You don’t complain when he lifts you and carries you back to his bedroom, setting you gently on the plush bed. He takes a few seconds to pick up the clothes you left on the ground in the living room, shrugging his wrinkled shirt back onto his shoulders as he hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you say intelligently. You don’t know what else to say. There are a thousand questions at the tip of your tongue, a thousand thoughts crowding your mind, a thousand emotions coiled in the pit of your stomach.

A small smile teases his lips as he watches you. “I’ll wait for you.”

A/N: J e s u s ok please forgive me for this

~Requests are currently open~

previous works:

Always (M) - Kim Taehyung [BTS]

Neither Innocent Nor Guilty (M) - Shin Hoseok [Monsta X]

Gray Areas

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

↠Notes: angst+fluff, modern au, strong language

You wipe off the last of your lipstick, the side of your hand painted with pale red smears. Your mascara’s already mixed with salty tears, dripped down right above your cheek bones. With both your index fingers, you wipe the trails away in a quick motion. You stare into the bathroom mirror, while your hands scrub away under the running sink.

You wipe off the last of your lipstick, the side of your hand painted with pale red smears. Your mascara’s already mixed with salty tears, dripped down right above your cheek bones. With both your index fingers, you wipe the trails away in a quick motion. You stare into the bathroom mirror, while your hands scrub away under the running sink.

Your phone rings. A loud groan escapes your lips. 

Reaching into your purse, you’re about to hang it up, until you realize that it’s just Kyungsoo. “Great timing. Come pick me up Soo…” you grumble wearily into the receiver.

“Y/N… Chanyeol just called me and said ‘yo get your girl’… What is it this time?”

“The fuck?!” you fume. “Is he implying that I’m the one at fault?” Your voice echoes through the empty restroom. “And why the fuck is he always calling you when shit happens?“

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whoatethepickle  asked:

IM SORRY BUT I REALLY LOVE ANGST AND I LOVE YOU!! (sorry if that sounded weird)Anyways,can I have separate headcanons of Shinsou's and Amajiki's s/o being tortured right in front of them? Thanks and I hope you feel better!


hitoshi shinsou

Originally posted by fyeahbnha

  • he would try everything to get the people under his quirk but he’s muzzled and he wants to die
  • squeezes his eyes shut whenever his s/o is hit 
  • his eyes water if they’re bleeding because he feels so helpless and he feels so weak

amajiki tamaki

  • he would actually shut down
  • his eyes whiten out because this is so horrific and it’s like all his worst fears came to life
  • hates the people who are doing this but even more, hates himself for not being strong enough
I Wonder...- kim taehyung

Summary Quote:  “I never thought it would be me. No one ever thinks it’s them, you know? I should’ve known. I should’ve said something when I smelled the cologne, should’ve spoken up every time she left early at dinner. But I loved her. And if she didn’t love me… I would make her.”

Genre: Angst/Mentions of Sex/Violence

Group Member: Kim Taehyung of BTS


Song of the Chapter: assanine race by fire on fire

I Wonder…

  • Part 1/31 Days of Halloween- ikontrashimagines


[October 1 2016 7:32 PM Respondent: Alicia Massie]: 911. Police, fire, or medical? 

[7:33 PM Alicia Massie]: Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?

[October 1 2016 7:33 PM: +298666382731]: …Hello? 

[7:33 PM Alicia Massie]: Sir, you’ve dialed 911. What’s your emergency? 

[7:33 PM +298666382731]: Oh… right… um, you need to come to my home. 

[7:33 PM Alicia Massie]: What is your emergency, sir? 

[7:34 PM +298666382731]: You…. just have to. 

[7:34 PM Alicia Massie]: Sir, what’s the address? 

               October 1 2016 7:34 PM Call to Emergency 911 Ended

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half-light chapter 9

one /// two /// three /// four /// five  /// six /// seven /// eight


Melissa is the only one who actually knows they are living together - Scully has managed to divert all her visits with her parents to their house (“Are you embarrassed of my place, Scully?” “Our place, Mulder, and no… I’m just not in the mood to explain why we’re living together to my parents.”) but Missy had insisted on coming over and having coffee sometime last spring so Scully had disclosed her new address and made her swear not to tell. (“As a fellow older sibling, I can disclose that there is no way she’s not telling.” “Shut up, Mulder.”) Mulder isn’t actually sure when she is planning to tell them, but he’s guessing that she didn’t have Thanksgiving in mind, when Melissa accidentally slips up and mentions “Dana and Fox’s place”. (He swears that she calls him that just to irritate him, seeing as how Scully had introduced him as Mulder in this universe.) Scully’s father immediately gives him a look that makes him want to melt on the spot, followed by a similar look from Bill Jr. Meanwhile, Scully is giving Melissa a nearly identical glare. Maggie doesn’t say much in the moment, but she kisses Mulder on the cheek at the door and not-so-subtly slides marriage into the conversation, smiling in a way that manages to be encouraging encouraging and encouraging and threatening all at once. She’d probably buy him the ring.

“God, remind me never to do that again,” Scully groans into his shoulder when they’ve finally gotten back to their couch.

“Um, honey? Christmas is coming soon, so I think you’ll have to.” Mulder scoots out of the way of the jab aimed towards his ribs for the honey. “If it makes you feel any better, holidays with my family would be worse,” he says. “It’d be a series of coldness between my parents and out of context questions about our lives. Also, I can’t remember the last time I brought someone home for the holidays. Or… ever doing that, in fact.”

Scully sighs. “I’m so incredibly grateful that I have a family to embarrass me at holidays… but I’d forgotten how confrontational it could feel at times.” She turns her face into into the leather back of the couch. “So this is normal? I should be grateful that my family’s back and can torture me?”

“Exactly,” Mulder says, rubbing his warm palm up and down her bare arm.

“Mmm. Well, I guess that’s what I’m thankful for,” she says into the couch. “What are you thankful for?”

He trails his fingers along her cheek. “This. You. The chance to start over, have a good life with you.”

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Hopping back on Tumblr for the briefest moment because I made this lovely holiday card for CrimTim.

Please take special notice of Far Right Tim’s eyes.  I tried to make them beautiful and demonic

Conceptual post-SWR piece I’ll likely not delve too much into

“Show yourself, shadow!”

The hooded figure did not answer. She lingered the glowing blue blaze of her lightsaber at the shadow’s neck then leaned it.

It illuminated on the shadow’s eyes, tinting the otherwise whitened eyes with dull blue, the unkempt scraggly bread and a scowl.

“Show yourself, old man.”

And it spoke, incredulous, “Old? I am only 50.”

So the shadow has a sense of humor.

“Who are you?” Her grip tightened on her saber.

“No one of your concern, young stranger! You’re a kid who wandered too far from home!”

Then the stranger’s hand reached down at his belt. 

“A lightsaber!” She bit her lips. She had to maintain her poise. But her feet itched to leap away. She knew her novice skills would be outmatched. 

The words rolled out, instinctual, yet she should’ve swallowed them.

“Where did you get that?”

“Where?” the shadow said, offended, “I forged it! Now turn back. Go home. You do not want this to escalate.”

The disappointed face of her mother flashed by in her head, the ghost of her scoldings in her ears… no…

To her surprise, the stranger re-latched his unlit saber to his belt and ordered, “I sense the fear in you. Deep breath.” His voice somehow getting warmer.

Then he unfurled his hood, and the glow of her saber shined on a tired man, beard glistening with dust.

And somehow, despite the milky nature of his eyes, it seemed like in a wink, she saw the hue of her own eyes in his.

“Now, are you a Jedi?”

She did not answer.

“Where did you get that saber? That kyber crystal?”

And somehow, through her kyber crystal, she felt like she knew this stranger and was compelled to answer back,

“My mother gave it to me.” Child, a Jedi’s kyber crystal is said to be their life, their heart. Your father gave me his heart before he became one with the stars. 

This disarmed the stranger’s poise. He surrendered to his knees and buried his face on its soot-covered hands… 

“I thought… it was her coming to haunt me… Her voice, she sounds just like you, Hera… forgive me…”

She flicked off her saber, leaving them both in darkness.

“You. You know my mother.”

“I loved your mother… then I had to leave your mother. I didn’t know I left you too… I think I felt you come into this world years ago… but I didn’t know you existed… What I’ll give to the Force to just have my vision one more time.” 


Imagine: Padme telling you to leave Anakin alone

For anon… Enjoy! Also, I actually really love Padme. I’m just making her seem like a bitch in this imagine. 

“I don’t want you talking to Anakin anymore.” Padme commanded, crossing her arms over her chest loosely. She arched an eyebrow.

“And why is that?” You replied, glaring at her. Your heart was racing and you tried not to show it, suppressing your nervousness so that your face appeared almost emotionless. 

Padme made a snorting noise. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you.” She growled. 

Your heart jumped into your throat, catching hold of your voice and holding it there. After several short moments, it let go.

“There’s nothing between us.” You whispered, your cheeks growing hot. How did Anakin look at you?

Padme pursed her lips. 

“I find that hard to believe. Just do me a favor and leave him alone.” She snarled, her knuckles whitening. 

Your eyes narrowed and you leaned on one leg, studying Padme.

“Why do you feel so threatened?” You queried, tilting your head slightly and crossing your arms. 

Padme smirked. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want Anakin falling for someone that will ultimately end up hurting him.” The Queen hissed. 

Your eyes widened. You opened your mouth to retaliate but no noise came out. 

Satisfied, Padme gave you one last knife-like glare and spun around, turning the corner swiftly.

You had been avoiding Anakin for nearly a week. It had proven to be extremely difficult and heart breaking. 

The young Jedi had tried to speak to you on countless occasions, unsuccessfully pulling you off to the side or trying to pair up with you when you did Jedi training. All the while you looked away from the hurt on his face and shrugged off the pleas to at least acknowledge him. 

But you couldn’t take it anymore. It wasn’t fair to Anakin. 

Suddenly, you found yourself waiting in front of his training room door, rocking back and forth on your heels unconsciously. Iightsabers were slashing at each other and there was an occasional yell of frustration.

After several long minutes, the door swung open and Anakin stepped into the hallway, panting and sweaty. When he saw you, he jumped slightly in surprise. 

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, smiling widely at you. It broke your heart. “How come you’ve been avoiding me?” 

Slowly, you took a deep, shuttering breath. 

“I don’t want to hurt you in the future.” You muttered, staring at your feet. You could feel Anakin’s confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, extending his hand towards you. You shied away from it. 

“I don’t want to get in between you and Padme.” You whispered, looking up at Anakin and feeling the lump in your throat. Your eyes were beginning to water. 

Anakin’s mouth fell open.

“You’re not- wait, who said this to you?” He almost demanded, his face growing hard. 

You shook your head but you knew it was no use, you had always been a terrible liar. 



Anakin stared at you, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What?” He murmured, his hand that was extended to you growing rigid. 

You swallowed. 

“S-She told me I would hurt you eventually. That she saw the way we… looked at each other.” 

Disbelief swam in Anakin’s dark eyes. 

“How dare-, Y/N, don’t listen to Padme. Don’t believe a word she says to you.” He growled, pushing his hair of his eyes furiously. 

“Anakin?” You whispered, wringing your hands nervously. “I-I’m not trying to pit you against her or anything.” 

The young Jedi looked at you, his angry eyes softening. 

“I know. I’m just going to have a… very strongly-worded conversation with Padme.” He said, a smile pulling the corners of his mouth.

You smiled back at him tinily, feeling the lump in your throat die away. 

and i know that we’re heavenly

Summary: This is a four horsemen of the apocalypse au, it’s set during ww1 so there are some slight history references! Here are the guys’ roles: 





Please enjoy :)

It’s a strange feeling, to be walking the streets of Earth again, to have his lungs breathe in her steadily damaged air, and have her skies kiss his skin with sunlight he ached to feel all those years he slept. The world hasn’t seen his face in centuries, forgetting all the pain that comes when he looms near, and that’s okay, because it’s about time they remembered.

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Ramadan Fasting Tips

Who must fast?

Those who are able, sane, of a mature age, and of course, Muslim. 

What are the benefits of fasting? 

  • It’s a Pillar of Islam! 
  • spiritually purifying
  • good for health
  • builds solidarity between family and community 
  • increases gratitude 
  • increases humility/ selflessness
  • increases patiences
  • encourages simplicity and non attachment 
  • strengthens faith
  • encourages discipline/ restraint 


Ibn ‘Umar from Hafsah narrated: ‘Whoever does not have the intention of fasting before Fajr, there is no fast for them.” It’s important that the fast is made before one wakes up. Some scholars believe that at the beginning of Ramadan one can make the intention to fast for the whole month, and the niyyah is valid, but it is best to make the intention every night before sleeping. 

Who doesn’t have to fast? 

  • the sick/ travelling 
  • the menstruating/ those with postpartum bleeding
  • the pregnant/ the nursing 

What breaks the fast? 

  • eating/ drinking 
  • that which takes the role of food/ drink for example an IV, however a vaccine, an antibiotic is allowed 
  • intentionally vomiting 
  • cupping/ hijimah blood donation is allowed, but recommended to be done after maghrib when possible, for the safety of donor 
  • intercourse 
  • ejaculation 
  • menstruation/ post partum bleeding 


  • rinsing the mouth with water too much 
  • unnecessarily tasting food
  • kissing your spouse
  • sexually exciting 
  • ill speech: lying/ backbiting/ swearing
  • to not pray taraweeh/ tahajjud last 10 days 

Health Benefits of Fasting

  • detoxification of stomach
  • improves insulin sensitivity (reduces risk of diabetes, or even cures it) 
  • rests the digestive system 
  • boosts immunity 
  • corrects high blood pressure 
  • encourages overcoming bad habits
  • promotes weight loss
  • resolves inflammatory response
  • promotes a healthy diet 
  • clears skin, whitens eyes 

30 days of KBR: day seven » a scene that made you cry

Don’t fucking die on me. Don’t fucking die on me.

“Hey, hey,” I say in a softer tone. “I’m going to get you off his fucking rock, okay?”
He mumbles something, but I can’t understand, the fucking anguish in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I concentrate on saving him. Because he’s going to fucking make it.
We’re both going to make it.

“…Ryke,” he chokes, tears slipping out of his eyes. “No.”
My knuckles whiten on the rope. “What do you fucking mean?” I know what he means.
“…Leave….me,” he cries. He’s crying, his chin trembling.
My nose flares, my eyes clouding. I shake my fucking head. “I can’t.” I can’t leave him here, even if it’ll save my life. 


From Terashii’s Unison on August 17th.

Terashii’s 6th single, sunlight avenue, was released that very same day!

Terashii laughed so much yesterday! He was soooo cute I wanted to eat him up (♡´艸`)

He wore the shirt he got (won) from Kakki’s corner in Unison event several weeks ago XD
It was a black shirt with a picture of a mustached and bearded German version of him www

In Terashima gacha corner (actually, the name is Terashima kyupi, but I prefer to call it Terashima gacha, so…), he explained “cat”. He also said that he loves cats, but since he is allergic to them, he had to use eyedrop when they took pictures of him and the cat for sunlight avenue. But when the pictures had been taken, his eyes were still red, so they had to photoshop his eyes to whiten them (´;ω;`)

By the way, the name of the cat is ロイドくん!
How do you spell ロイド? Roid? Loid? Lloyd? I’m seriously confused here ( •᷄ὤ•᷅)?

Also, next week’s Unison will have guests! Terashii’s guest will be the karaage lover Shimono Hiro! (/^▽^)/
Prepare yourselves for the same feel as the third episode of Tobidase! QuiPri www

All screenshots are mine.