#fun fact there was no cooking in the first draft and now over half of the fic takes place in the kitchen

[kitsunabi]

It started as another quiet evening of reminiscing. They say it's the journey that matters; the destination will come in time. For the traveler, sharing an unexpected evening with friends is the only way forward. And sometimes, that way forward requires everyone's joint effort at making the one thing that brings people together. Dessert.

#genshin impact #genshin traveler #i'm back on my shenanigans again when in doubt just make someone cook #its the teapot baby there are no rules here just let me play darts with who I want to have in the story #fun fact there was no cooking in the first draft and now over half of the fic takes place in the kitchen

[themattress]

The Problem with King Magnifico

King Magnifico is the best part of Disney's Wish. He's got a sleek design, the most fun animation, and Chris Pine does a fantastic job hamming it up as a classic-style Disney villain.

With that said, he's a good villain, but fails to be a great one.

At first, I thought this was mainly because of all the Member Berries; as the movie goes on he increasingly starts aping past Disney villains which kind of makes him lose his unique identity. However, I've now realized that there's a deeper reason, which lies in comparison to Dreamworks' superior Wishing Star movie, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, and its villains:

For some reason, the writers of Wish tried to push King Magnifico into all three categories, and it just doesn't work. It is possible for a Sympathetic Villain to develop into a Serious, Scary Villain or for an Unsympathetic Villain to develop into a Serious, Scary Villain. But it is exceedingly difficult, if not downright impossible, to blend or have a transition with a Sympathetic Villain and an Unsympathetic Villain, because that creates way too much of a dissonance. This is where Magnifico was fumbled: before his turn to a Serious, Scary Villain they try to have it both ways, setting him up as sympathetic due to his backstory, seemingly genuine desire to do right by his kingdom even if the way he does it is misguided, and the love he shares with his wife, only to also have him unsympathetic by depicting him as a petty, petulant, thick-headed narcissistic douchebag. This results in confusion in his motivation for why he is doing what he does during the first half of the movie or why he turns to the forbidden magic that drives him mad with power, and also makes it unclear whether we are supposed to see his final fate as a tragedy or a case of him getting what he deserves.

It's very obvious from The Art of Wish that King Magnifico got changed in development. The earliest drafts clearly had him as a humanized villain who starts off sympathetic but goes off the deep end into irredeemable evil; his initial altruistic goals having given way to him just wanting to play God. There's no indication that the forbidden magic was originally going to have any effect on his mental state at all; the fact that he would even use it was simply meant to be his crossing of the Moral Event Horizon, showing that he would rather destroy his kingdom than let anyone or anything other than him have control over it. But the perceived need for Member Berries took a toll on the character, and thus he ended up undercooked.

...Still better cooked than anyone else in the film, though! Go see it for him, people!

#Wish #King Magnifico #Opinion #Analysis #Comparison #Bad Writing #What Could Have Been #They Wasted a Perfectly Good Plot #They Wasted a Perfectly Good Character #Anti-Disney #Anti-Wish

[39oa]

PLS as a new stars enjoyer i really wanna know whos who in this 🥹🥹 i kill for family dynamics 🤲🤲

https://www.tumblr.com/39oa/744137614807924736/the-stars-are-like-this-is-39-yo-joe-pavelski

hi anon!!! of course i would be MORE than happy to explain and in fact am about to egregiously overexplain so apologies in advance for that >__< welcome 2 starsblr pls enjoy your stay!!! 💚💚💚

"pavs and sons" → this is our top line that consists of jason robertson (21 / "robo"), roope hintz (24 / some call him "roop", his finnish nickname is "hine"), and joe pavelski (16 / "pavs"). pavs spent over a decade in san jose and was the sharks' captain during essentially their twilight years, and he came to dallas intending to retire (which is likely to happen at the end of this year tbh) but instead revitalized a distinct second phase of his career after being placed on a line with 2124 in 2020-21, unexpectedly becoming stalwart producers for a struggling dallas stars offense (2 words: rick bowness) — robo was only in his first year with the stars and roope's career was not that much older, hence the nickname pavs and sons; although pavs is only an alternate captain because the stars already have a very established, homegrown captain, he is basically treated as our second captain thanks to his age and the vast influence he has over both our young players & the locker room as a whole :') one of his nicknames is also captain america from representing team usa on the intl stage LOL.

rest below the cut:

raising johnny -> our team's ACTUAL baby is 2003-born wyatt johnston (53 / "johnny" but sometimes we use "wyjo" lol), who was in the ohl before the 2022-23 season but managed to impress during training camp and basically forced his way onto the roster (without getting too much into it, 18-19 y/o rookies can play 9 games with the big club before burning a year off their elc, so being from the ohl at his age his only options were basically Be In The NHL Permanently or go back to ontario.) because "HE (WAS) ONLY 19!!!" and there was some uncertainty about whether he'd stay up, pavelski invited him to live at his place with his wife and teenaged-son, and now a second year into his career wyatt is STILL with them because he loves it there so much lol. the stars frequently joke about pavs being his dad/landlord, and we've gotten a ton of fun content like these quest for the stanley cup clips and other interview moments like this, this, and this.

fostering stank(s) -> logan stankoven (11 / "stank" though you will also see "stanks") is our other baby and a very recent addition to our nhl roster; he's from the same draft class as johnny, but spent last season in the whl and therefore was eligible to go to the ahl this year, where he's been cooking up a storm for half the szn. it was pretty inevitable that he'd come up at SOME point, but the perfect opportunity arrived after one of our forwards got injured and he was slotted in on short notice. like johnny, he has basically forced his way onto the team permanently by immediately performing to (and well-beyond) standard :') the fun part is that he stayed with johnny at pavs's house when he first came to dallas, though he's since moved out and found his own place... nevertheless, this was still very sweet because logan & wyatt have GENUINE history from knowing each other half their lives & winning gold for u18 team canada in 2021, and have since picked their immediate chemistry right back up on the stars's 3rd line together. (more on this later!!!)

resident glueguy tydel + otter's son -> u know how every team needs its emotional support 4th liner who is at constant threat of being dumped at trade deadline? ty dellandrea (10 / "delly" but we like "tydel" as well) is our 13oa pick who never really panned out as expected, but he's still crucial to the overall health of the locker room and beloved by many. as a small piece of the Cycle Of Mentorship that the stars subscribe to, pavs is known for basically being a deflection master and a menace in front of the net and has passed on this propensity to a lot of younger stars by doing targeted practice sessions with them, including tydel. anyway delly's lore in general is just INSANEEE because he's at the center of the stars' social fabric in a lot of ways. happily third-wheels along with the wags, gets along with the 279195 canadian slagline who mostly exist outside of any family narratives, is Publicly Liked By Roope which is kind of weird because outside of cellys roop practices jane austen levels of finnish repression, imprinted on johnny hard last year (JOINED HIM ON PAVELSKI FAMILY NIGHTS) (from this devastating webweave), has SOOO much ahl history with otter to the point that otter's baby brother sees ty as part of the family — this is also where otter saying that he and his girlfriend saw ty as their son when he stayed at their apartment during training camp comes from. which is genuinely like Absurd Things to say because jake oettinger (29 / "otter") (as a completely random aside, please look at this gifset of harls wearing otter's shirt) is ONLY 2 YEARS OLDER THAN DELLY. LIKE THE FUCK D'YOU MEAN YOUR SON???

i'm normal. okay

jbenn / "daddy" line dads -> so the stars' real captain is jamie benn (14 / multiple nicknames but "chubbs" is a signature), whoooo is a quite the contentious figure amongst stars fans but as a 2007 draftee is very much a homegrown player and still quite important to the organization. i'm ngl, stars rpf is a VERY small space nowadays in hockey fandom, but ~back in the day~ he and tyler seguin were one of The Big Ships before slowly fading as both fandom figures & stars of the team thanks to age and injury and [waves hand vaguely]. anyway while the top line on the stars has remained *mostly* set since robo was called up, the 2nd & 3rd lines still experience a decent amount of reshuffling, so wyatt is kind of jamie's fixed line son atp but they also played with tydel before we 1:1 swapped some russians and evgenii dadonov (63 / the "DADDY" in question) came in and replaced delly. so now we've had multiple "benn and sons" lines (jamie + wyatt/delly, now jamie + wyatt/logan ❗️), plus essentially a "wyatt and dads" line (wyatt + jamie/daddy) lmfao.

wedge raising harls -> robo's emotional support backup goalie is scott wedgewood (41 / "wedge" or "wedgie"), who as far as backup goalies go is like shockingly well-integrated into the stars' locker room. the piece of lore that inspired this WHOLE post is that taylor dropped an article on how wedge claimed to basically be RAISING HARLS WITH HIS (recently-married!) WIFE...??? which is just. thomas harley (55 / "harls") is one of our resident baby d-men and was in and out of the ahl for a while but has been Officially with the stars since last years' playoffs... he's a very like, self-assured but kind of introverted, Beyond-His-Years type who literally has the voice of a 50 y/o, so it's both DEVASTATING and hilarious 2 me that wedge is like "oh, this 22 y/o kid likes to show up to my house every day and me and my wife are teaching him how to cook and he keeps facetiming me to ask random questions about his bills." LIKE OH... OKAY THEN ;___;

& last but not least: the ultimate Mini Family on this team that i didn't mention in my orig post is actually the finnish mafia — see robo constantly joking about them being brothers and loving each other lol. finnmaf currently includes four players (roope, miro, esa, jani... rip kivo 😔), and they kind of help split the stars' locker room into several groups including the finns, the ontario guys, robo's goaliefucker / Nerd_Collector ensemble, and... well honestly the cliques overlap a lot (which is why our locker room is so healthy!!!) but you get the idea.

there is soooo much other lore i could get into that isn't really related to dad/son/brother narratives but i feel like this is enough of an infodump so i'll stop here for now. in general the way the stars are constructed makes it really clear why they all see one another as family and why there is such a strong & positive & sustainable sense of personal leadership that permeates the locker room... benn handles Official captain duties while pavs uses his experience not to usurp him but simply to further support him in understated areas of mentorship/leadership, and our top line consists of 3 Very unassuming & responsible player archetypes which crucially trickles down to all the other lines. so while many teams have their Old Guys (who are often on a noticeable decline) and Kid Lines, the stars are cool because we've been successful at integrating young players with very established veterans and having them feed off of each other without sacrificing their development or "anchoring" any young talent unnecessarily; benn is really not the player he used to be but he's still been great with wyatt over the past 2 years. and pavs IS a total anomaly, so it's kind of insane & surreal that a guy in his late 30s can perform at such a high level while also taking it upon himself to prepare so many of our young guys to be the present & future of our team *__*

tl;dr: also i just remembered that the amazing @starscelly has a preexisting primer from last year so feel free to check that out too :') (the primary differences are basically that we replaced domi for duchene and recently picked up chris tanev haha)

#a #ERMMMMMMMMMM. did not expect to write this much #thank u for the ask and so so so sorry once again 💔

[thehollowwriter]

The Official Bio of Timo Byun

Basic Info:

Name: Timo Byun

Homeland: The Coral Sea

Species: Cuttlefish mer

Birthday: 9th August

Age: 30

Height: 150cm

Dominant hand: Right

Occupation: Hunter

Unique magic: He has no magic

Family:

He's an orphan, but he sees Silas as a father figure and Finn as a little brother

Preferences:

Hobbies: Dancing

Likes: Drawing, cooking, hunting, spicy food

Dislikes: Bad hunts, loud noises, Halloween, blot..?

Favourite food: Gejang

Least favourite food: Snails

Appearance:

While Timo's short, fluffy hair is naturally dark red, he dyes it pink. He has bright blue eyes and blood red skin and scales, and black fins. He has white "freckles" littering his body. He has the lower half of a cuttlefish (y'know the not tentacle part) and has very good control over his, well, colour cells? Ig?

Personality:

Timo hasn't had much development yet, but he's a sweet guy with a lot of respect for "Mr Silas". He's very skittish and easily frightened, but a skilled hunter whose "lights" come in handy during hunts. He's loyal to a fault and very hardworking and has an endless amount of patience. He often diffuses fights amongst staff, so Silas doesn't have to.

Some Fun Facts/Extra Info

•Timo has a very mixed heritage (cuttlefish can be found all over!), but he is Korean presenting/appearing

•Timo started working for Silas as a hunter part-time as a teen, then worked as Finn's babysitter for a number of years before becoming a hunter full-time

•Timo is very protective of Finn and thinks of him as a little brother

•Finn's new brother scares him a bit fjfkfft

•He was around when Morrigan died

•He is quite suspicious of the octotrio (especially the tweels) and wants to give them the "big brother talk" but he won't because he knows it'll seem weird, lmao

•Timo is transmasc, and he really struggled with his identity due to being brought up in a girl's orphanage

...........................................

A/N: Last one I swear! Timo's actually been around for a while, just am an obscure character in my drafts of Lamentations. And now he's been brought to life! (He's also my first trans character I hope he's ok)

Tagging: @distant-velleity @cyanide-latte @ramshacklerumble @kitwasnothere @the-banana-0verlord @officialdaydreamer00 @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @jovieinramshackle @boopshoops @oya-oya-okay @whspermy-name @cynthinesia @elysia-nsimp @br3adtoasty @skrimpyskimpy @quartztwst (I forgot to tag you in this one???)

@the-trinket-witch @ghostiidasponk

#timo byun #finn clearcove #silas clearcove #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #twst oc #oc x canon

[goron-king-darunia]

Annon-Guy: Everything okay?

Yeah, I'm doing pretty good. Catching up on Tumblr is really difficult though. Every time I take a break to do anything there are like 30000 posts to look at. I might just have to contend with the fact that there's no catching up. Internet FOMO. My brain keeps going "Well what if someone made a really funny post while I was away?!" And like... If it was really that funny it would come back around.

I still have no idea where that ask I answered went and I'm too burnt out still to try to retype it.

I am still cranking out fanfic and I am enjoying the 1.6 update of Stardew Valley though. And I made a yummy pasta dinner yesterday.

So overall I'm just... Tumblr exhausted. Everyone makes too many good posts all the time and the need/desire to tag all of them appropriately is massively kneecapping my ability to interact. Couple that with my IRL responsibilities of taking care of my Mom and handling my own adult life just means I spend my limited free time on meatspace tasks like knitting/crocheting and embroidery or on actually gaming or writing instead of my old routine which was... scrolling tumblr until I caught up for the day, usually dumping more than half of the posts in my drafts for future me, and then using whatever free time I have left to write or game. So I'm okay. But I think I'm honestly just... not going to be able to be available on Tumblr indefinitely. This legitimately might have to just be a hobby place now where I pop in to check up on friends, post notable things like finished projects, and then just dip out and ignore most posts. there's simply not enough time in my life to engage with all the fun things I want to.

But even though I'm a bit burnt out, I'm happy. I get to eat better food now that I cook more, I get to make more cool things now that I knit and crochet and embroider more. I get to handle more of my life which is honestly needlessly complicated (I will rage against taxes being obtuse on purpose forever), but it means I have more control over what happens which isn't much, but it helps me feel like a functional adult instead of a leaf in a stream. And I still have time for fun stuff. That fun stuff just... isn't on Tumblr so much.

All my fruitless efforts to "catch up" on here have done is just give me more drafts to dig through than I can manage and kept me away from doing more of the things I love.

So I'm going to try to do more targeted things on here. Post more original content, reblog a bit less, give up on catching up, and just try to give whatever energy I have on here to specific friends.

Feel free to keep sending me DotNW stuff. I almost always have energy for that. But I don't think I have the time and energy in me to go over a bunch of new things.

Physically I'm drained, mentally I'm fried. But it's okay. I think that I just have to let go and deal with the fact that having to step up and be an adult means I have to choose what's really important to me. And scrolling through memes on Tumblr is fun. But it's not fulfilling. I don't really want to spend 6 hours every day just catching up on what everyone else is sharing and then another 10 hours some other day scrolling through stuff I saved for later because I was too tired to read it the first time.

I want to spend more time creating my own things.

So I think from now on I'm just going to be extra picky about what I engage with on Tumblr, especially because engaging with stuff on here with only half my brain because I'm exhausted means I can only give half the attention to things that they deserve. I will try to post more of my own things so you know I'm still around and I will try to answer more often. But I think including Tumblr in my routine is no longer a sustainable thing.

It's like trying to live at a themepark. There's a lot of good stuff here, but very little of it helps me be the person I want to be. I don't want to just consume other people's content. I want to make stuff.

So I'll be around. But I think I'm going to start making really hard decisions about what I can and can't give attention to.

That said, seeing you build your own little community by hosting polls and engaging with other fandom blogs is really nice. I'm glad you're able to reach out and connect with so many new people. Tumblr is really great for that. I'm happy to be your DotNW contact, but I think I may have to trim down my engagement on Tumblr to just that. DotNW, maybe some legend of Zelda, maybe some cat memes and positivity. I'm going to trim away a lot of political stuff first and foremost because I'm pretty bad with that and I'm going to try to limit my meme engagement and long posts and see how that does. And if I need to trim down even more, then I will. But from now on, I think I just have to be decisive.

And I've decided the best use of my time is much less Tumblr.

I'll still be around, but it's definitely going to be sporadic. Doesn't mean we're not friends. Just means I'll get to all the fun things you want to share in a much longer timeframe.

I hope you are well, too. I think this is just one of those things where I have to completely transform my life. It's not bad. It's just different. I'm still doing all the things I love. I'm just putting more effort into the things that I love more.

Sorry for the long post. I think this is as "back" on Tumblr as I can be.

Thank you for loving me and sharing your joy of gaming with me! Even if I can't be on Tumblr as much, I will try to make space for you in my life!

#annon-guy2 #lengthy post #update #Letters from Annon Guy #Ask GKD

[supersizemeplz]

Spend the Night

Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic short. Ok, so right off the back I wanna say that towards the end it gets explicit. Since I started writing a lot of fluff, I feel so vulgar when I actually write something steamy. I was contemplating on whether or not to post it here but I thought why not. When I say this has been sitting in my drafts forever, I am not exaggerating. I didn’t know exactly what to do with it so I’m just putting it out to be seen. So I hope you enjoy!

The chattering of characters played on the television screen, once amusing to the couple that rested on the earth toned sofa but now was nothing more than background noise as they conversed. It's sound was low in an attempt to not overwhelm them both, becoming aided with the captions on the screen if they happened to want to know what was going on in the movie. Its light spread out to at least a few feet behind the couch where the light over the recently cleaned kitchen island picked up its slack.

This wasn't your first time over his place but you never paid attention to the details. The house was honestly one of the best decorated homes you'd seen other than those from HGTV. You made sure not add those exact words to the compliment to hide your small addiction to the channel. Especially when you could name the patterns of the tile and back splash of his kitchen, then he'd definitely know that you were a homebody. After a half an hour phone call with Erik hours before on your lunch break, he'd persuaded you to spend the night at his place. Easily done since you were already planning to stop by after a few quick errands. He'd promised you to a homemade dinner, Netflix movies, your favorite wine, and a foot rub.

"Shutupp. I do not.." You chuckled at the joke Erik made, reaching forward to smack his arm as best as you could. Being sure not to waste any of the wine that you still had left in your glass. He smirked as he focused back on massaging your left foot, making sure to massage deep to relieve the tension. You relaxed back against the sofa after taking a sip of your wine with a happy sigh. "You cook like a master chef and have the hands of a God. I might have to keep you around Stevens."

He laughed at that, stopping his foot massage for a moment to cover his mouth as to soften his boom of laughter.  You stifled a chuckle as he pretended to look hurt. "You might? I see how you really feel." Taking your foot gently, he moved it off of him to the floor. You sat your glass on the table beside you and leaned forward to catch his face, laughing as you seen him trying to stay serious.

"Awww, you know I'm just playing." You cooed as you pressed kisses to his cheek. "..my sensitive baby." He allowed the kisses, giving away his small smile from his dimples deepening. Turning his head to catch your lips in a few kisses, he ended the string of kisses with a deeper one. You hummed in the kiss as he placed a hand on your backside. Gripping the soft cushion just enough to get you stimulated before it was over. You sat there for a moment before opening your eyes and watching him get up from the couch.

"You done with this glass, babe?" He asked, grabbing his own glass before looking to you. You nodded, mumbling a soft 'yeah, I am'. He took the glasses and half empty bottle to the kitchen as he continued his conversation with you. You looked to him, admiring the way his shirt allowed you the sight of his back with small movements and the peek of skin once he reached up to place the glasses in the cabinet.

Standing from the softness of the couch, you adjusted your shirt and followed his faintly scented trail into the kitchen. He always smelled amazing. You hummed your acknowledgement as he spoke on some random topic, still in a bit of a daze from the kiss moments ago. Your arms slid around his body as he chuckled. "And you say I be all up under you." You grinned at his response, shrugging.

"And? You know you love me hugging on you, Stevens. Don't think those dimples of yours don't give away your little smiles." Releasing your grip, you headed off to the bedroom. Sending him a teasing look over your shoulder before you disappeared into the hallway. "Don't keep me waiting.."

Once you made it into the bedroom, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Moments passed before Erik was doing the same, meeting you at the double sink to brush his teeth as well. Now shirtless with his sweats hanging just enough to catch the waistband of his briefs. His chuckling caught your attention and broke your admiration of him in the reflection of the mirror. Finishing up with brushing your teeth and washing your hands, you playfully rolled your eyes and left him to finish his nightly routine.

It felt like he was taking forever to come to bed. Doing that lengthy ass routine he'd done numerous times over the many times you both would facetime as you got ready for bed. You had slipped from the shirt and short set that had only been worn for a few hours, still catching the scent of perfume you dashed on to work like a pheromone. The soft fabrics hit the floor and you adjusted the lace, skin toned underwear that was left. Smoothing your hair down, you looked to the bathroom door as he switched off the light.

Silence. It filled the bedroom and swarmed around the both of you as you stood in front of the bed. The lamp that sat in the corner of the room illuminated your silhouette just enough for him to see the look you gave him. He grinned at your surprise, catching the slight nervousness in your body as he stepped closer. A hum of appreciation left him as he took his time to make it to you. Why in the hell did this man have you feeling like this was your first time? Maybe because it was with him.

Weeks of being wined and dined, fun little outings, nights on the phone, and building sexual tension came to this moment. He'd been a gentleman the whole time. Never pushing the matter on you and waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. And oh how you've wanted him. The thoughts had crossed your mind as well as a few wet dreams that you wouldn't dare let him find out about. Tonight, you decided you were tired of waiting and enduring the sweet torture of his charisma.

He sent a chill over you as he spoke suddenly. "You don't understand what you do to me, do you?" His fingers held your chin, thumb gently massaging the soft skin. "So pretty and delicate.." The darkness of lust clouded his eyes as he gave a slow once over of you. Your eyes admired the soft curve of his full lips instead. He smiled at the fact, chuckling when he seen you take a deep breath.

"Hey.." He caught your attention, speaking softly. "Eyes up here." You finally caught his gaze and he hummed when you did so. Taking a small step closer, he smiled as he leaned to your lips. "I need those eyes to stay on me. You got me?" His lips ghosted yours and you relaxed under his touch.

You gave a small nod as you looked up to meet his eyes. The touch of his fingertips felt like small sparks as they moved across your skin. Hooking beneath your bra strap and easing the band down your shoulder. "I want to hear that sweet voice of yours, baby.." You felt as he trailed them around you to unclasp the hooks at the back with ease. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and he gave another satisfied hum. "Are you gonna be a good girl and keep those eyes on me?"

"Yes, baby.." You replied, allowing him to admire your lips this time. He gave a small smirk as he mumbled 'That's more like it, baby'. Your nipples were erect from both sexual and actual atmosphere. His thumb brushed over the sensitive bud and you bit your lip to suppress a moan, opting for a slow exhale. He looked to you and you seen a dimple to let you know he was toying with you. Seeing how long you could last with his slow burn.

You caught his lips suddenly, surprising him for only a second. He flowed with your slow kisses, smiling at the hunger in them. A moan slipped past your lips against his this time, fingers dancing at the waistband of his sweats. He chuckles at your lengthy nails attempting to work with the fabric. Taking over when you couldn't focus enough to get it.

"So eager.. Take it slow and tell me what you want me to do." He began to lower the sweats with ease before he slipped the soft cotton fabric from his legs. ".. that sexy ass voice you got and you really think you're not going to use it." A playful scoff followed the sentence before he licked his lips.

You looked to the bulge of his briefs before meeting his eyes again. "I want a taste.." The confession kind of surprised him though his face hadn't shown it. He watched you as you caught his gaze again, groaning when you gently palmed him. "May I?" You teased, using the moment to toy with him in return.

He didn't lose eye contact as you lowered before him. "I'm all yours.." The consent left his lips immediately. You hummed, pressing your lips against the fabric before massaging it. He exhaled as you did so. Your fingers finally caught at the waistband of his boxers to ease them down, and his length eagerly greeted you. That pulled a soft laugh from you.

"It's so pretty.." You mumbled the compliment, not focused on if he'd heard it or not. He groaned as you took your first taste of him. The warmth of your mouth made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes focused on your slow moments with fascination.

You closed your eyes, taking your time to work him up. He filled your mouth as much as he could before you eased him from your lips, hugging his tip. "Unh uh. What I say?" His hips pushed into your lips gently, enjoying the softness they provided. Opening your eyes, you look up to him as he wanted. He groaned softly as a smirk caught the corner of his lips. "There you go. Keep those eyes on me."

Your right hand left his thigh, lifting up to stroke him. "I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me?" You taunted, freeing your mouth for the moment. His lips parted once your tongue circled his fattened head, going back to work while slurping loudly for his enjoyment. The mumbles he spoke were barely audible over your pleasuring, but you made out some of the words and moan in agreement.

Releasing your lips from him with a pop, you look to his glistening dick. He hums as you stroke him again, trying his hardest not to move his hips in rhythm with you. "You're so fucking pretty.." The repeated confession gains your eye contact with him once again. And he reacts with another mumble of praise. He curses as you stare up at him with a smile. Your full lips all shiny and wet from saliva, matching the coat that covered him.

"Tell me again.." You tease with a sultry voice, seeing him chuckle at your cockiness. He tucks his bottom lip between teeth as amusement taints his features. And he repeats it a little louder. "Good boy." Rubbing him against your lips, you laugh as he weakens and leans forward slightly. The small words of praise caught him off guard, but he couldn't help his body reacting. He was losing dominance and didn't mind it.

"C'mere.." He stops you from your fun, gently standing you up. You squeal as he picks you up with ease. Resting you right above his hardened excitement. He grins as you hold onto his arms for support. "I want my pleasure to come from pleasing you.." Your body falls to the bed with a soft bounce. He rids himself of his underwear fully before he puts his attention on yours.

The light of the dim lamp catches his chain, glinting against his chest and bringing attention to his body. Reaching a hand out towards him, you ran your fingertips along his smooth, yet textured skin. Taking in the scars that he'd told you were a reminder of how far he'd came from unlearning his old ways. You moan as he bends down to press kisses to your tummy, showing it the love it deserved. The kisses becoming sloppier as they continued their way lower.

He hummed as he lifted your thighs, opening them enough to kiss their inner parts. His soft lips left tingles that felt they were going straight to your love button. "She's ready for me, huh?" The light stroke of his finger made you shift your hips closer, resulting in his chuckle. Both of your thighs were placed onto his shoulders and he began his delicate foreplay. Pulling a moan from before your hands found his dreads.

He licked his lips as he admired your body. "Let's see if I can get you to spend the night more often."

__________________

Taglist

@sisterwifeudaku @kumkaniudaku @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @chaneajoyyy @wakanda-inspired @princesskillmonger @liviy00 @xsweetdellzx @muse-of-mbaku @killmongerdispussy @thehomierobbstark @princessstevens @killmongerthiskoochie @cecereads209 @beautifullmelodyxx @soufcakmistress @melodyofmbaku @awerkofart

#black panther #oneshot #black reader #erik stevens #erik x reader #supersizedfic

[oftenderweapons]

Sooo, about the ask thing. First off all congratulations I love you and your writing 💜 you seem like such a nice, intelligent and funny person. But was thinking what if namjoon comes home drunk and guilty about something he did and vixen comforts him. Love u💋

Title: Drunk (&) In Love

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Genre: crack, fluff, (also, vaguely allusive)

Rating: 18+ cause THESE TWO ARE A MESS FOR EACH OTHER

Synopsis: apparently Namjoon's stag party went a bit too wild. Mostly since he was drinking guilt away. What could that possibly be about?

Trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, horny!drunk Joon, he clumsily tries to seduce his fianceé in front of yoonjintae (second-hand embarrassment), stressing over vows, mentions of kinky letters, they discuss future and the fear of marrying young and pretty much out of the blue and they be mentioning the idea of having kids. Also, watch Vixen being the caregiver.

Author's note: Thanking the sweetheart @ironicarmy !!! I love exchanging WIPs and Beta reading! It was so fun and I AM LOVING YOUR WIP SO HARD IM GONNA EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! can't wait for it to be out so I can fangirl in public LOLOLOL; also thanking @dopesportsoperatorzonk for this request! (I got your feminism ask, I promise I'm almost done, I wanted to have a quite thorough view before replying and I'm still thinking about some stuff, but it'll be readdy super soon!!!)

Here's my masterlist, btw, and enjoy 💜✨

You weren't supposed to wait up for him, but it was like your sixth sense was telling you to do precisely that. And your premonition turned especially accurate once you were met with the sorry sight of Namjoon hanging off Taehyung's and Seokjin's body, grinning as he saw you appear at the door, head to toe smitten, only to turn to his friends with a sneer as he realised you were wearing his favourite silk robe. The deep crimson colour seemed to spark the colour of your hair on fire, and make the lineaments of your face sharper, older, with a kind of allure he still couldn't understand. “Little fox,” he said, going grabby hands while his arms were still around his friends' shoulders.

You tried to keep your expression stern as you looked at the two men literally holding him up. “What is this? Didn't I tell you to bring him home whole and safe?”

Taehyung lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Is this your idea of safe, Seokjin? I expected better.”

“You know him. He did this to himself.” Yoongi spoke neutrally from behind the three.

“Yoongi. Him being a fucking grizzly doesn't mean he can hold his liquor. Bring him in,” you said, freeing the entryway for the triplet coming in, Yoongi in tow.

“We should have brought him to the dorms,” he muttered.

“Dorms?!? Aneeyo…” Namjoon babbled, shaking his head, falling with his ass on the sofa. “No babylove in dorms,” he said with a hiccup. “Hello, little one,” he purred, grabbing your hips and trying to pull you towards him.

You blushed and slapped at his wrists. “I'll deal with you later—”

“Feisty brat,” he spoke sultrily, making Yoongi shake his head while Seokjin and Taehyung snickered before being chastised by your scolding stare.

“How come he's drunk off his ass and the three of you are perfectly okay?”

“He's the one getting married,” Taehyung replied, matter of factly. “And yes, he was the one who swallowed a bottle of hard liquor without even flinching.”

You glance at Namjoon with a scornful expression.

He did some very drunk, very clumsy attempt at a wink that made you inhale as you desperately looked for a crumb of patient left.

“You'd better go home, before I smack you all on the head,” you said, shooing them off.

“You'd have to reach it first,” Taehyung muttered, making Seokjin giggle, Yoongi rubbing his face at the verbal violence that was about to come.

“Kim Taehyung. I may not be tall enough for your royal head, but your girlfriend is my best friend. I won't say much more because I'm sure your friends aren't interested in your ass getting bruised.”

Yoongi smiled smugly at that one.

“Hell yeah…” Namjoon chuckled from the sofa, one hand reaching for the back of your thigh.

“No. Not now.”

“Later then?” He asked with puppy eyes before they turned into a very tipsy version of his intense dragon glance. “You’re so sexy when you’re mean,” he rumbled, a hand reaching for your thigh underneath the robe.

“Kim Namjoon, if you don’t stop I will unwife you in this instant.” Still, the other three men in the room were a mess of embarrassed coughing and teasing snorts. “You can all go home right now,” you said with a curt tone.

“You’re not gonna be able to take him to bed by yourself.” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow as he spoke calmly.

“Mh, Vixen, take me to bed, please,” Namjoon murmured as he tried to seduce you, just as you looked at him and replied, “No need to take him to bed. He’s sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

“See? I told you she found out! She has a sixth sense for this stuff! She can sense it! She can smell fear! I told you!!!” Namjoon babbled, grabbing your wrist. “Little fox...” he cooed, making a fool of himself.

“Go home. All of you. Now.”

Taehyung was the first to leave without even saying goodbye. He knew he would pay for it. Seokjin was the next, saying bye to Namjoon very briefly before bowing to you — just slightly. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, goodnight,” he apologised, making his way out.

“Yoongi?”

He rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry. Really. I— I didn’t do my job.”

You shook your head. “This is a mess I’ll have to deal with.”

“You know you’ll kind of have to deal with him for the rest of your life, right?” Yoongi looked at Namjoon, head in his hands, fingers tugging at it nervously.

You followed his gaze, meeting Namjoon in the poorest of states. “I know. He’s my business now. Go.”

Yoongi left without much resistance after that, the door of your apartment finally shutting for good.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, staring up at you as you stood before him. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hands on his cheeks. “What happened, Joonie bear?”

He shook his head, lip going wobbly. “I’m so sorry!” he babbled again, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Oh, no, baby…” you managed to whisper before he dove for your lap, burying his face there. “What happened, love?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing’s gonna change the fact that I love you, big bear.” You caressed his hair as his voice confessed, half-muffled against your tummy.

“I sneaked a look at the dress.” You could hear his words coming out from a pout.

“Joonie—”

“Please don’t unwife me!” He cried out, his voice way too high pitched. “I don’t want to sleep alone ever.” He hugged your legs and held you closer. “I want to sleep next to you until I die.” He got even more emotional as he went on. “I want you to always pet my hair and tell me you’re proud of me and cook for me and be my sweetheart and my babylove and my little fox forever, even when we’re old and I get bald.”

You smiled and invited him to let go of your legs before sitting down, your legs slightly parted laying across the sofa. “Come here, big bear,” you said, patting your stomach. He did as he was told, laying his head below your chest and stretching his long body all over the seat. He struggled a little, his sense of balance temporarily worse than usual. “Soon I’ll be lawfully your bride. Forever. We’re almost there, honey. Just a week.”

He nodded.

“And then I’ll be your little fox until I’m nothing but ashes. And then some,” you reassured him, petting his lovely head, digging your fingers into the knots in his upper back.

“Writing the vows was so difficult.”

“I know baby,” you kept rubbing at his trapezoi until he released a relieved grunt. “I know that must have been really stressful for you.”

“I had to rewrite them sixteen times. Sixteen!” His hand absentmindedly reached your thigh and started rubbing small circles there. “Everytime, they were too long, or too cliché, or something I just couldn’t read in public because you know our letters.”

“I know our letters,” you confirmed, thinking about his messy handwriting on cheap paper, and entire sheets of words that he sent you everytime something important happened, everytime he had to travel for his job, everytime he just needed to make love to you on a deeper level. And then, thinking of your replies, always heartfelt, emotional, with fine calligraphy on expensive ivory sheets often marred with rough spots where a tear fell — most of the time because of joy and gratitude and obliterating, overwhelming love. “Will you read to me the other sixteen versions too, once we’re alone?”

He nodded. “I’ll read them all. I’ll write new ones every day. Small, simple, absolutely mundane. Stuff like, ‘I’ll do the dishes tonight’, or ‘Let’s go out for dinner’, or ‘I wanna grow old with you’ or ‘I don’t wanna watch that porn tonight, let’s just stare into each other’s eyes while naked and have the best tantric sex ever performed’.”

You chuckled and placed your hand atop of his. “I like the last one.”

“But I couldn’t say it in front of your parents, therefore I couldn’t write it in our vows.” He scoffed and shook his head before planting it between your breasts, nosing at the lapels of the robe until he could kiss your naked skin.

“I might have written something along those lines in one of my drafts.” Having this conversation with Namjoon while he was halfway drunk off his ass was extremely entertaining; however, you felt sad at the possibility of him not remembering this moment.

“What else did you write in that draft?” He closed his eyes, waiting for your soft voice to calm him down.

You smiled and slightly teared up at the thought, his chin propped on your chest, one of his thumbs reaching out to dry up a tear. “I wrote that I hope I get to make you smile every day and see that insanely cute and sexy dimple of yours every morning after you wake up. And I want to be the only one listening to your deep bedroom voice waking me up. And I want to listen to you as you talk to our children. I wanna hear all the stories, and watch your smile shine on their faces.”

Namjoon hid his face against your chest, feeling tears roll down his cheeks.

“I want them to have your eyes. I want to see your complete wonder as they learn about the world, as you teach them about the world in that grand and beautiful way you see it.” You sniffled and he cupped your face, kissing your lips so slowly, the heavy tang of liquor barely tainting the moment.

“I want to walk by your side, until we’re too tired to walk and watch time pass by, without worries, without haste. I don’t care where we’re walking because you were the place I was destined to be.”

Namjoon couldn’t explain tenderness or love or devotion or faith as deep as the ones he felt for you. He probably wasn’t skilled or trained enough.

“I know we’re young. I know this is more of a bet than an actual marriage. I’ve seen people who have been together for years part ways so easily and I don’t even know why you said yes to me. Sometimes I doubt I’m deserving and I see in how many ways I’m lacking and I ask myself, 'why the hell did she say yes to me?' ” He snickered sarcastically. “I wouldn’t have said yes to myself.”

You shook your head and kissed his brow.

“But I’ve been with other people and you have too and… I don’t know, sometimes I feel like this will take a lot of effort but then I hear you laugh, I hear you calling my name and I know, I can feel that that’s what it is supposed to sound like.”

You smiled at him, fixing your position so he could lay on you without worrying about smashing your body.

“I’m so confused and so grateful for this. It’s like… Suddenly winning the lottery. One minute you’re just a person and next you realise you’re going to be a husband. And you don’t know what’s going to happen to you, how your life is going to change, but with you I’m not scared.” He chuckled. “Well, I am. But you make me braver than my fears. And I know I could lose you any day. I could fuck up, or we could just drift apart or something. But any moment spent with you is bigger. It’s better and brighter.”

By now you were a teary mess, face drenched in tears, his arms around your torso as he held onto you. “My soul has found a home in you and I will cherish it. I’ll take care of that home. I’ll make sure nothing damages it. I’ll help you work on it if you want to change it. I will make more room when our family gets bigger. I will fix it when I can. I’ll stay by your side when I’m not skilled enough to heal you. To fix you.” He sniffled, voice hollow and weak as he spoke through a lump in his throat. “And I’ll leave if you ever ask me to.”

You shook your head and hugged him, letting him sob in your arms. “I hope I never lose you.”

“Don’t be a silly bear,” you comforted him, lulling him, holding him close to your heart. “I’ll be your bride. Your spouse. Your wife.” You kissed his head. “And your home. Your relief. Your dirty, secret affair. Your devoted companion too. Your goddess and your toy. I’ll be your friend. And the mother of your children, when we want to.”

God, if he wanted to… But first, he needed to enjoy having you all to himself for a couple more years. Just to make sure you hadn’t been both bold and immature and absolutely stupid about getting married almost two years after meeting for the first time.

“So I’m not getting unwifed for sneaking a peek at the dress?”

You shook your head. “It looks completely different once worn.”

“Really?” His expression exploded with euphoria.

You smiled. “Really.”

His drunken grin was back. “So I’m gonna sleep on the bed right?”

You acted as if you were even thinking about it. “You’re really drunk.”

“I’m soberer now.”

“And you embarrassed me in front of your friends,” you reminded him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Not my fault my wifey’s so hot,” he said with a slightly more accomplished wink.

“Not your wifey yet,” you reminded him.

He tutted. “Just a matter of days.” He kissed your sweet spot, on the side of your neck. “It’s only a technicality.”

You looked at him suspiciously. “A technicality, you say?”

He nodded and held you tighter.

“This technicality could still leave you at the altar, waiting,” you teased.

“Come on, I want to sleep next to you.” He kissed your cheek. “On our bed.” He kissed you again. “Where we’ll be making so many babies.”

“Stop right there, mister.” You placed a finger against his plush lips before you shook your head no. “No babies for a few years. I want you all mine, hubby.”

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against your chest bone. “Okay, fine, but I just meant hypothetically. You know, for practice.”

“Yeah, I think I could use some practice. I want to be perfect at it.”

He smiled and kissed your nose. If only she knew how perfect she is, he thought, haphazardly sitting up and waiting for you to help him on his feet, the whole discourse sobering him up enough that he managed to sit on the bench in the bathroom as you washed his face and brushed his teeth, as you undressed him and helped him in the shower, undressing and joining him, his body too tired and unstable to initiate anything fancy.

And then you towelled him up, rubbing body lotion on his always-too-dry legs before helping him in his boxers.

And through the process, he understood how it was that you loved him so much anytime he got you ready for bed. He should let you do this more often. Especially when he wasn’t exhausted or drunk, so he could properly enjoy being cuddled and fondled and babied.

What he didn’t expect was for it to feel so comfortable when you slid up against his back on the bed, spooning his ridiculously large body with your smaller one. “Sleep tight, big bear,” you said before kissing his nape. “Eight more sleeps and we’ll be married.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, little fox.” And with that, he caught your hand in his and fell asleep.

#kim namjoon fluff #namjoon crack #bts fanfiction #bts fanfiction blog #namjoon drabble #houseofddaeng #52hertz #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon x vixen

[enigmawrappedinhypocrisy]

*Request* Okay. Thanks! Could the reader be in to wrestling and her and barley are best friends? And something happened and they find out they’re falling for each other? And Ian is always teasing the reader? And a kiss at the end? Sorry if it’s a bit confusing.. again thanks!

 Okay I’m not sure how to do this… and I’m not into wrestling… And i’m really bad at this getting things done thing… sooo… I’m sorry, I know this has been in my asks for 100 years. But excuses… And i’m tired of this being in my drafts sooo… However, Hopefully it's decent enough. 

Fandom: Onward

Pairings: Barley x Reader (mention of grandchildren once but nothing that indicates gender... I think...) 

Warnings: Bad writing, Quick Mention of drunk idiots harassing reader, I don’t know a thing about Wrestling, Fluff, very bouncy thoughts... a tiny little bit of almost angst. 

❀✦ Master List✦❀

You met Barley at a wrestling match when a few drunk idiots decided to hassle you. As they tend to do… 

You ran into the first, seemingly safe person you saw. You looked at him with puppy eyes and were grateful he understood your silent plea. 

Barley smiled warmly and put his arm around you. He pretended to be your boyfriend until the guys lost interest in you and left. He made some jokes to lighten the mood and struck up a casual conversation with you, as if you really did know each other. You found yourself amazed and feeling better, it seemed this elf boy radiated security and gentleness.  

Then, with a simple thank you, you’d parted ways; only to run into each other again at the local diner after the match. It was there you had sat and talked well into the early hours of the morning. 

You learned he was interested in many things you were, and you just felt… content around him. By the time you had to part, numbers were exchanged, and he’d texted you before noon that day. 

You began hanging out shortly after that. You were nearly always at each other’s house, and quickly became close with his family. His mother adored you and his brother felt comfortable enough to joke around with you. 

All in all you and Barley were quite close.

But not as close as your family's seemed to think you were… or maybe hope would be more appropriate…  

*

The weekend had finally arrived and you made your way to Barley’s house, as planned, after work.

There was a big wrestling event in the evening and you and Barley had plans to hang out and watch it together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to spend a lot of time at the Lightfoot house so no one batted an eye when you showed up a little early. 

Ms. Lightfoot welcomed you and let you know that Barley had called saying he'd be a little late, and she was going out with friends. As she was leaving she turned to wink at you telling you, with a knowing look, to have fun. 

You thanked her as you felt your cheeks flush with warmth and made your way to the familiar living room. You didn't mind waiting for Barley, in fact, you'd be willing to wait all night if it meant spending time with him. Not that you would tell him that...

Lost in your thoughts about how dumb and sappy that sounded even in your mind, and the implications therein, you hadn't noticed Barley's brother come in.

You had spent a fair amount of time with both brothers since you’d first met Barley. So by this time Ian was pretty comfortable around you, sometimes even coming to you for help or advice. Especially when it entailed something he might have been too embarrassed about to ask his mother or brother about.  

 Ian had decided to take a break from homework, and get a snack when he found you lost in thought on his couch. When he came back from the kitchen only to find you with the same dazed expression several minutes later he decided to tease you a little. 

"Barley late for date night?" Ian asks, his tone even, leaning against the wall an apple in hand. 

"Yea- wait no! Why would you say that?" You blink taken off guard by the sudden question. 

Ian raises an eyebrow in a ‘really?’ expression. 

“Shut up” you try and fail to keep the blush from your voice. "We're just… eh… hanging out!" You defend a little too enthusiastically. 

“Interesting that’s the part you chose to respond to…” Ian chuckles, before heading back upstairs. If you weren't ready to admit your feelings, who was he to do it for you… besides, this was  far more amusing.

*

It wasn't much longer until Barley arrived home, a little disheveled. The match wasn't due to start for another hour, maybe more depending on how things went, and yet it looked like the elf boy had rushed home. 

Why? 

The only thought that continued to creep into your mind was you… he rushed home to see you. The idea of It warmed your heart, and filled you with a longing. A longing for a potential life where Barley was coming home after work each day to see you. 

He'd find you cooking… reading… working on some project… and kiss you. 

You'd ask him about his day… and he yours. 

You'd share a pleasant dinner and end the night cuddled on the couch… 

You’d be happy… 

Ian's words run on loop in your mind and you don’t notice the way Barley’s face lights up upon seeing you. 

Did Barley think you were dating? That this was a date? 

Did he want it to be? 

Did you? 

You hadn't noticed you were staring until Barley brought attention to it. 

"What?" You jump. 

"I asked why you were looking at me like that?" he gives you his charming little half smile as he repeats, what you assume was, his earlier question. 

"Oh, um… nothing… no reason" you blush and desperately avoid looking at him. 

Barley watches you for a moment, clearly not believing your answer, but gives in with a shrug. 

"I'm just gonna go put my stuff down and get something to drink… you want something?" He asks. 

"Okay, um… no thanks" you try to sound casual all the while you're incredibly aware of your quickening heartbeat. 

Barley nods before leaving you, calling to you from the kitchen. He asks about your day. You give a non answer in response and ask him about his. 

He goes on to tell you about some funny thing his boss said in response to an irate customer, and soon returns to the living room. He hands you your drink before flopping down next to you. 

You scold him as you nearly spill. Not really realizing he brought you something even though you told him you didn’t need him to… not only that, but it was definitely your favorite… why would he… how… 

"Sorry my love" he smirks, clearly not sorry. 

You roll your eyes giving him a little shove in response to the nickname. He often called you sweet things. Things you previously attributed to his personality or teasing but now they had you wondering.

When he called you those things, sweetheart, darling, dear… was he actually hinting at what he really felt? 

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and quickly squeak noticing he was watching you with an indescribable emotion.

"W-what?" You try to act casual. 

"What's wrong with you?" He asks, blunt and to the point. 

"What do you mean?" You try and play it off, as if your mind wasn’t playing that little game with the levers and ball… and see you can’t even remember what it’s called… and it’s your analogy… 

PINBALL! Your brain was playing pinball… the dinging buzzing things the ball hits against being the sudden and many thoughts… which makes you the ball? Or was the ball the thoughts… bouncing around… there goes the analogy again…  

"You're being all quiet and…” he indicates you vaguely,  “did my mom say something to you? She's been teasing me about grandchildren lately, she didn't say something like that too you did she?" 

Your eyes widen and you suspect Barley didn't mean to let that slip out by the blush now coloring his ears. 

"No… but um… what-what do you tell her when she asks about that kind of stuff?" Yeah super subtle… 

Barley scratches the back of his neck, “I tell her we haven't discussed that…" 

Wait…

"Why would we… Um Barley?" You push away your insecurities, fear that you’d read the situation wrong, and decide to just jump in with both feet. 

Or tip over the machine? Does it work now? The analogy? 

He 'hmms'. 

"Do you think we're dating?" You try to phrase it gently but cringe when you hear yourself. You don’t want to come across rude, like you’re making fun of him… but also don’t wanna let on how much you’re starting to suspect you want him to say yes… 

Barley looks away from you, practically purple at this point. 

"Uh… no of course not…" It sounded small, nervous but... hopeful? 

"Do… do you want to?" you manage to force out, slightly proud of your mostly even tone.

Do you?

You’re still not sure at this point yourself, you’d only just realized the way you feel about the elf boy that was your best friend. Did you want to risk that? What happens if this was just a little puppy attraction, lust thing… and whatever relationship you begin quickly sizzles out? 

Barley is looking at his hands as he nervously fiddles with the zipper of his vest. He bites his lip and tries to avoid your gaze. 

Oh… 

You soften, “It’s okay if you do… I mean… wanna… um…” Now you can’t find the words, which becomes more difficult when Barley looks up at you, hope shining in his eyes. 

“What are you saying?” he prompts, heart pounding in his chest. He hopes you can’t hear it. 

You shift, turning towards him slightly. “Well… if you wanted to maybe go on a date or something…” 

“Yes?” 

“I’d probably be okay with that… I mean… if you want to” you add the last part, now desperately hoping this wasn’t some awful joke. 

Barley smiles, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your face. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” He asks softly, apparently having gained some confidence back. 

You nod, leaning into his touch before you realize you’re doing it. 

“Tomorrow night?” he suggests. 

Again, you nod, not trusting your voice. 

Barley smiles, his attention turning back to the tv. The match was starting soon, the announcers already talking about what they expect to happen. He leans back, his arm resting behind you on the top of the couch. Not an uncommon thing for the elf boy. What was uncommon, however, was you relaxing against his side and how right it felt.

Without a word, perhaps because he wasn’t sure he could trust his voice either, Barley brings his arm down around you, holding you against him. 

If you had the courage yourself to look up at him, you would have seen the flushing upon his cheeks. But either way this was comfortable and you weren’t in a hurry to end it any time soon. 

*

A few hours later Barley's mom returns home. Maaaybe a little drunk which results in her cooing loudly when she finds you and Barley asleep and cuddling on the couch. 

This, and her half stumbling up the stairs, manages to rouse you and Barley from your comfortable nap.

Barley yawns, and slowly gets to his feet. 

"Come on, I'll drive you home" he offers another yawn soon follows.

"Don't worry, I can drive myself" you stretch, not really pleased with the idea of making the trip home yourself.

"You're too tired- not safe" Barley half murmurs. 

"You're too tired" you retort. 

"You should stay here… on the couch… or I can take the couch" he stumbles over his words. 

You nod in agreement flopping back on the couch. When Barley doesn't leave you raise a brow in question. 

"I was just thinking…" he shuffles from one foot to the other.

You watch him with patient eyes, now a little more alert. You'd let him say what he needed, when he needed not wanting to rush him. 

"I mean… if I don't drive you home I can't kiss you goodbye…" 

His ears were a dark maroon by now and you can't keep the smile from your eyes. His sweetness, his bashfulness, just how God damn cute he was. And most of all… how much you wanted to kiss his pink tinted face. 

So you did. 

You stood, quicker than he could react, grabbed his face on either side, and brought his lips to yours. After a moment of shock Barley’s arms come around you, keeping you too him. 

You can't say for sure if the head rush you felt was from the kiss or standing too suddenly, but you chose to think it was the kiss as you give him several more little pecks before eventually breaking apart with a yawn. 

"Better?" You ask, your head falling forward to lean against his shoulder. 

Barley nods before pulling back, calling a good night to you, and hurrying to his room. 

You chuckle softly before flopping once again on the couch… there'd be time tomorrow to deal with all this… but for now… sleep was calling and the old couch was far too inviting… 

*And that’s all folks*

#Barley Lightfoot #Barley X Reader #Barley Lightfoot x reader #Onward #Once again writing about something I don't know about #Request #Fluff

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

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A/n: hello peoples!! I’m so excited to FINALLY post the first chapter of this fic!!! I’ve been working on it for a long time, and after a few unpleasant delays, it’s finally happening 😁. While this isn’t my first fic, this is my first NHL fic, and the first fic I’m posting on Tumblr, so I’m a little nervous. This first chapter is mostly the set up to the main story, this is reader’s side of things with a flashback story. Chapter two will be mostly from Elias’s point of view. The rest of the chapters will switch back and fourth between the two.

CREDIT: Finally, before we get started I have to shout out my proofreaders. Y’all put up with me and my insanity: @siriushxney @iateyourdonuts @petey-patty @hufflepuff-girlx @cherrylita @immmbabyyygraceee @💕💕And specifically @imagines-r-s ASH!!! Babes, you have been the best and most supportive friend I could’ve asked for during this. You boosted my confidence about this fic and I have no idea what I’d do without you 😁😁

Without further ado, let’s get started shall we!! (Sorry for the long A/N, it’ll only be for this first chapter)

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of cursing, friends with benefits but like...just cuddling???, references to iCarly, mentions of One Tree Hill.

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: (i suggest having these ready before you read)

Y/C/N/N= your cute nick name, only Markstrom calls you it (you’ll see why) this can be either a pet name you like, or a nick name you already have.

Y/N/N= your nick name, Brock, Quinn, and a few others call you this, it’s more of a playful name. Again, this can be a nickname you already have (if you don’t have one I suggest something stupid (sounds like something Stech or Brock would come up with)

Y/N= this is your first name, only Elias calls you this unless it’s a serious situation, or you’re in trouble, or Brock is being an ass. (If it wasn’t clear before...your last name is Boeser)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: you have a hardcore crush on your brothers best friend, who also happens to barely speak to you...it’s a slight predicament.

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(This is set in the 2021 season, however, because of my denial, Marky and Stech are still in Vancouver and were never traded... also no Covid. however the season was still delayed just to make it easier to follow.)

Present (Feb. 2021)

You’ve always been best friends with your older brother, you never had any real issues when you were younger and you were inseparable. So much so in fact, that once you graduated early a little less than two years ago (June 2019), he asked you to move to Vancouver and live with him. He was always so protective of you and you appreciated everything he has done in your life. One of the best parts about Brock being your older brother was the people he introduced to you. You aren’t very social and god knows how much of a people person your brother is. Once you had moved in, Brock quickly introduced you to the team. And with your double major in Statistics: Data Sciences and Sports Management, you were able to secure a job with the team. Quickly, you found yourself with a second family, one with many members.

Quinn Hughes is your best friend. when you met him about a year and a half ago, you hit it off immediately. With both of you being the same age and not very social, there was an obvious connection there. When Brock and The boys  go out, it is you and Quinn who stay in and watch shows on the couch (your favorite being New Girl). Huggy Bear is so sweet and you tell him EVERYTHING, even things you’d never tell your brother. You are still thanking the draft lottery every day that the Canucks received the 7th overall pick that gave you your bestie.

Thatcher Demko AKA Dems AKA Thatch AKA baby goalie is the sweetest and most hilarious guy you know. He is always looking after you just like Brock, but he is also one of the most annoying guys you know. When you’d first met you had the biggest crush on him. You told Quinn as much and he gave you so much shit for it. That crush was short-lived though, once you found out how obnoxious he could be. You still love him, just as a friend. Though Quinn never forgets to remind you of the crush that once was.

Bo Horvat is like another big brother to you. Sure you have Brock, but he’s your best friend. Bo, however, is the person you go to when you needed advice. Holly is one of the only WAGs you’ve become close with. She and you consistently have wine and gossip nights, of which Quinn is sometimes in attendance. Plus, you and Quinn are an amazing babysitting team for Gunnar if you have anything to say about it. 

Troy Stecher is the annoying older brother you never had. He always makes fun of you, calls you names, and bullies you in the loving way brothers do. And he never hesitates to come to you if he ever needs girl advice, which seems to happen a lot.

JT was just like Bo, except he is waaay more protective of you, maybe even a bit more than brock. He doesn’t have a sister and when you met, he made it his job to never see you get hurt. Seriously, one day a guy was bugging you at the bar, and both Brock and Bo were struggling to hold him back when he saw him slap you on the ass as you walked away. 

Jacob Markstrom, AKA Marky, AKA Giraffe (pronounced like it is in one of your favorite vines), AKA your cuddle buddy for the past few seasons. Both being single, you felt lonely sometimes and Quinn wasn’t much of a hugger (despite what the nickname might have you believe). Thatcher had offered but Marky, though just as social, is much more laid back. It also helps that he is 6’6 putting him over a foot taller than you. So during movie nights, or late nights at the bar, he is the side you lean on. Of course, you made it abundantly clear to most of the boys and yourselves that you were just friends. As sweet as he was and as great of a boyfriend as he would’ve been, he wasn’t quite your type and your personalities clashed.

Then there was Elias Pettersson, the tall, skinny, Swedish guy you knew as Petey. The guy who looked at you often and barely spoke a word directed towards you. He was Brock's best friend and he came over all the time, you didn’t have an issue with him, and you couldn’t deny he was funny, and from what you’ve heard he is a very kind person. So naturally, he was exactly your type. You’ve had a massive crush on him for a while now, somehow despite the lack of conversation. And the few times he has talked to you, he’s seemed so perfect, but there are only a few times you can remember. 

Right now, as you're on your way to the Canuck’s break room your brother texted you to meet him in, you try to recall those few times, specifically the one where your crush on him truly developed.

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FLASHBACK (some time in January, 2020)

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You, Quinn, and Jacob were laying on the L-shaped couch in ‘The Boeser apartment’, you were cuddled under the blanket with Jacob, laying on the section perpendicular to the TV, your heads at the corner. Quinn was on the other side of the couch, his head right next to yours. it was about 7 o’clock and the episode of One Tree Hill you were watching had just ended and you three had not eaten dinner yet. As the countdown for the next episode started, your stomach growled and you got a look from Quinn and a giggle from Jacob. 

“You hungry Y/C/N/N?” Jacob asked.

You looked up at him and giggled, “maybe just a little bit.”

“Y/N/N, you know what sounds amazing?” Quinn asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to each other and you both smirked knowing you were thinking the same thing.

“Spaghetti tacos!!” You both said. 

Ever since you were about 10 and you watched iCarly on TV, you had always wanted to try them. It had become an inside joke between you and Quinn for quite some time as he had the same desire as you to see how good they actually were.

“We should totally try them tonight!!” Quinn was quite excited.

“I’m so confused right now,” Jacob chimed in.

“They’re from a show! They take spaghetti and put it in taco shells,” you explained.

“Ahh, hence the name.” he nodded.

“Exactly,” Quinn said.

You jumped up from the couch excitedly and ran straight to your kitchen.

“Ok, we have spaghetti, spaghetti sauce, ground beef, taco shells, aaaand..... by chance do either of you know how to make good meatballs?”

“You’re asking the Swedish guy if he knows how to make meatballs?” Jacob replied.

“Not Swedish meatballs, Italian, stupid Giraffe,” you retorted. 

“Gross,” he said with a disgusted look.

“Ooo my mom made the best Italian meatballs, let me call her to see if she can send me the recipe!” Quinn said with a big smile.

Quinn exited the kitchen and ran to your room to call his mom. 

“You know, I’ve never seen him so excited about anything,” Marky said with a laugh. 

“Quinn loves his food,” you replied.

“Are Brock and Thatch having dinner with us ?”

“I’ll ask.”

You started boiling the water for the pasta, and you cooked part of the ground beef for the meat sauce. Then you texted Brock:

Y/N/N: hey, you want me to make you dinner

Brock: Yeah, who all is there?

Y/N/N: the usual

Brock: Huggy and Marky?

Y/N/N: yep, so do you want some?

Brock: Yeah, and make enough for another person too

Y/N/N: ok

You figured it was Dems since that’s who he went to hang out with when he left 5 hours ago. 

You continued to cook when Quinn came in and grabbed a bunch of stuff from the pantry and cabinets. “Did your mom tell you how to make them?” you questioned your frantic best friend.

“Yes she did and she sent me the recipe too.”

“Coolio,” you reply.

------------------------

You were almost done cooking, the pasta was done, Quinn had put his meatballs in the oven and there were only 5 minutes left on the timer. And the sauce had about 2 minutes to simmer.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot what to do when they're almost done, she does this thing, I have to call her,” Quinn said with a panicked look on his face. He ran back to your room.

The front door to your apartment opened quickly, both boys laughing, “ahh, shit,  my brother’s calling me,” Brock said as he ran back to his room.

“Why does everyone feel the need to exit the room for phone calls?” you asked Jacob.

He shrugged with a giggle, “I don't know, maybe they don’t trust us,” he said in a sarcastically dramatic tone grasping his chest.

The door closed slowly and you glanced at the doorway where you thought you’d see the ever adorable goalie, Thatcher Demko, instead, you saw the adorable, slender, tall blonde you’d seen all the time, but never had a one on one interaction with... except the first time you met, when he told you that you looked pretty.

“Hi, Petey!” Jacob said as he slipped behind you to watch you mix the sauce, he stood over you looking at the sauce and put his hand on your waist.

“Hi,” he replied, his smile from before had faded.

“Looks so good Y/C/N/N,” Jacob said with a kiss on your cheek, a regular action. 

“Thanks, Giraffe, can you grab the taco shells?”

He grabbed them easily from the top shelf (tall ass bitch -_-), and moved behind you, placing his hands on your waist yet again, to move you to the side. “I've gotta run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back”

“Ok, you have fun with that,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly, was only you and Elias in the room, and the silence was deafening.

“So what are we eating?” he said, pulling your attention to his bright blue eyes.

“Um, spaghetti tacos, they're from a tv sho-”

“Like from iCarly?” he interrupted.

“...Uh yeah? How'd you know?” you couldnt pull your attention away from his eyes, ‘they are just so beautiful,’ you thought somehow you hadnt noticed this within the on and a half years you’d known him.

“We also get Nickelodeon, you know,” he said while throwing you a smirk that made your stomach flip. 

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you replied, feeling just a little embarrassed. 

“iCarly was my favorite, actually.” 

“Yeah, it was mine too,” you said, smiling back, looking at the way he just lit up your kitchen with his presence.

You both stood there for a second just looking at the other, “So how long have-,” he started.

“OKAY,” Quinn unknowingly interrupted, “so she told me what to do, turns out I have to put sauce over them for the last 2 minutes, so Y/N/N can you just put a tablespoon of sauce on each ball then put them back in for two minutes?” 

“Yeah of course. Elias, you were saying?” you looked back at the Swede.

“Oh it's nothing,” he looked down at his shoes. 

“Ok, Y/N/N you need to call mom and tell her we’re fine and that she doesn't need to worry about us please, Paul says she’s stressing,” Brock said as he entered the room.

“When is she not stressing about us? I’ll call her after dinner, how's dad?”

“Doin’ good, nothing has changed or progressed or whatever since we were home last,” Brock moved and sat on the couch letting out a big sigh.

“That’s good,” you let out a sigh.

“Petey, come here, we’re watching Gossip Girl” Brock shouted at the Swede.

“Ooo what episode are you guys on?” you asked. Brock had mentioned how he was making him watch the show you two had watched about 5 times together. 

“Just after Chuck gets Dan kidnapped at Yale.” 

“Oh so you still hate Chuck?” you asked Elias.

“Ew, yeah...wait is that gonna change?” Petey said with a scoff.

“Uh....,” you stalled.

“Y/N shut up, don't spoil it,” Brock interrupted before you could make it worse.

“Ok well, dinner is ready so just start the show after and we can all watch it together.”

--------------------------

“Oh my god, these are actually amazing,” Quinn said with his mouth full.

“I know, I did not think this was gonna taste good,” Jacob added.

“Hey!” you said, offended.

“Y/C/N/N, you know I love your cooking, it was the idea of the meal that I doubted,” Jacob said leaning into your side and putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmmhmm, suuure,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hallå Marky, ni två är söta (hey Marky, you two are cute),” Petey said, confusing you, Quinn and Brock with the sudden change in language.

Jacob, being oblivious to what Petey was implying, just said, “tack broder (thanks, bro).”

Little did you know what was going on in Elias’s head.

--------------------------

PRESENT

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Before that night, you never really thought of Elias in a romantic way. You'd been around him quite a lot, seeing as how, seemingly, is in your apartment more than his own. Sure, you knew he was cute and very sweet from what you'd seen, but up until that point, you'd never had a one-on-one interaction with him. That interaction, however small, was the beginning of an obsessive crush. Quinn was the first to point it out, you started listening closely any time he talked, attempting to converse with him, and thinking about him on a daily basis even when you didn't see him. And due to your stubbornness, no matter how unrequited your crush seemed, it never faltered. You had always thought he hated you, or maybe he just tolerated you because you were Brock’s sister, and you were always around. 

However, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

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Tag list: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan

#from a distance: series #pls let me know what you think!! #hockey #nhl #elias pettersson #vancover canucks #elias pettersson fic #brock boeser #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson imagines #elias pettersson imagine #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks fic #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

[eyeballjazz]

gosh I LOVE whenever you talk about the crews (midnight or problem sleuth) because your ideas are always so unique and detailed but in a realistic way? like they're all very specific but also mundane so it all feels so natural and REAL, it's always so fun! Plus your writing is very pleasant so seeing that "read more" under your replies always makes me go FUCK YES

You said you had fun with the last ask so here's me asking you to share more headcanons you have! Could be domestic, silly, sad, whatever, I'm just giving you an excuse to talk about them whever you feel like it!

#1 and first of all THANK YOU SO MUCH! I’ve delayed replying to this not only because I wanted to cook up a good answer but because your words are so sweet and I wanted to spend longer just reading and rereading them. Thank you thank you thank you!

I got a few little ones and then some big ones for ya:

Problem Sleuth and Hysterical Dame both are from Brooklyn and have harsh Brooklyn accents, though Dame’s is much more pronounced. She sounds like a slightly less congested Fran Drescher. Sleuth, additionally, loves the Beastie Boys and thinks he could’ve been one if he’d had half a chance at it.

Droog loves Sting. That’s it, that’s the headcanon.

Droog is native Italian, from part of Tuscany that is just 1 kilometer from the official bounds for the Chianti region. The fact that he’s not actually, truly, from Chianti haunts him and makes me laugh a great deal.

Now for a big one:

What war did they all serve in?

This one I’ve gone back and forth on. While I love studying war I’m not any kind of expert nor do I have any relation to military culture. But, because I write Intermission stuff as period pieces (the adults all live in a pseudo 40s and 70s mash up, all the kids live in the early oughts and that’s why none of the StabDads knows how to work a computer despite all their kids being online constantly) the setting of mid-20th century America requires there to be some war that people are living during/living through the aftermath of. I have a whole thing about the 20th century being one long war but anyway.

There was a large scale global conflict that Team Sleuth and the Crew all experienced. The Crew saw more intense, violent conflict while much of Team Sleuth saw less direct action and often sunnier outcomes.

Hearts, Slick and Droog were all infantry men whose issues with authority prevented any of them from moving up the ranks. Clubs was a technician and occasional mechanic, he learned everything he knows about bombs between his years as a soldier and a few jobs working in plastic factories back home.

Hearts was a cook as well as a renowned fighter in his unit. Slick came in and went out buck private despite some award winning violence in the field. Droog was considered for a promotion to officer because of his neat habits and efficient performance but later denied when his more anti-social and unstable qualities showed through.

For both Slick and Droog The War is much more like WW1. They met and became friends/fell in love in the trenches and saw the intensity of suffering and combat on an almost daily basis. For Hearts and Clubs The War is a little more like Korean, they were stationed far from home and were effectively playing cat and mouse with the enemy. Clubs experienced and learned from chemical warfare, while Hearts saw much more guerrilla warfare.

On the Sleuth side, Ace Dick is the only person to have served in as intense a fashion as the Crew. He enlisted young and made the rank of sergeant before retiring to become a detective. Of all of them his time was the most like WW2, in the European theater. Though he maintains his rank in retirement, Ace has relaxed out of the rigidness that made him a good officer. His hard disposition however has not degraded even one iota.

Problem Sleuth had a gay li’l stint in the Navy where he mostly ferried trade vessels along the coast. The action he did see was at the distance of sea battles, so while it was intense it was not as close and personal as the Crew or Ace.

Hysterical Dame did not serve but instead worked as a riveter and community organizer back home to get more women into the workforce as well as to provide for the families of soldiers who had been lost. That picture of Rosy the Riveter eating a sandwich with her piston driver in her lap? That was Dame, just with much more buoyant and gorgeous hair.

Nervous Broad was a nurse and was stationed abroad for most of The War. She saw a lot of very bad and only very occasionally some good. While she was in the medical corps she met Pickle Inspector, who was a contentious objector and refused to serve when drafted. Because of this, he was dumped into the medical corps at the front lines and like Broad saw some very awful things. They both don’t like to talk about what they saw more intensely than the others.

Post war they all assume the roles we’re already familiar with, most of them using the combat training they already received to do their work as detectives and/or mobsters. Broad, Dame and Pickle Inspector all learned to handle firearms (and in a Pickle Inspector’s case a whole sniper rifle) post-war. As a treat.

And, while I really don’t come to fandom spaces for sad things (the world itself is hexing enough) I do have a sad headcanon for Hearts:

His parents had an awful marriage and his father was often abusive to both him and his mother. She, in turn, eventually did away with him but not before long years of hard times for herself and her son. Once Hearts was big enough to help with the manual labor of running their small farm she took his father out during a particularly bad fight. It was a brutal night that would have seen one or the other of his parents gone from the world, but his mother won out in the end and she and Hearts lived better and better once his father was out of the picture. Hearts, to this day, sends money to his mother and believes she is the strongest woman on the face of the Earth. And he’s probably right. She still lives up in the hills of Georgia with her gun.

Momma Boxcars loves Tavros and insists that he and the other kids come spend part of their summer with her out on the farm.

Like Hearts’s mom, Droog’s parents also love their grandbabies. They immigrated to America after Droog put together enough money to bring them over from Italy and keep them living in style in the city. They were not good parents to him, in fact they have a very fraught and often vicious relationship, but they are wonderful to their grandkids and often tell Droog how much more they love Karkat and Arabia than they ever loved him. Again, I find Droog’s pain and inconvenience hilarious, and he’s fine despite all this. He actually thinks of them as ideal parents, being as he is an ideal sort of person by his own metrics.

Again, thank you for your lovely words and for the excuse to gab away about all these clowns, this was so fun!!!

#the intermission #problem sleuth #spades slick #stabdads #stab dads #diamonds droog #hearts boxcars #clubs deuce #pickle inspector #hysterical Dane #Ace dick #nervous broad #humanstuck

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Boy Best Friends- [J. Hughes & T.Smith]

Literally no one asked for this but Kelly @prettyboycozens and I were talking about how much we love Jack and Ty's friendship, especially after the interview of Jack where Ty comes in and then came up with this idea and I had to write it so here we are! Hope you enjoy!

Jack and I had been close since we were little. We started out next door neighbors then he was the weird boy who I waited at the bus stop with, then he became the boy I had every class with in middle school. Around 6th grade is when we finally clicked and became best friends. He calls me ‘Ranch’ even though my name is Rachel, all because one time his phone autocorrected ‘Rach’ to ‘Ranch’ and he thinks it’s the funniest thing ever. He even changed my contact name to ‘Ranch’.

It’s been an interesting 8 years being friends with him and watching him grow up. The funny thing is, I’m pretty sure we’ve only spent a full year together one time during our whole friendship. He’s always been off doing all his hockey stuff while I’ve been home in Michigan. But then college rolled around. He got drafted the summer after my senior year, managing to watch me walk across the stage at graduation before flying up to Vancouver for his draft 2 days later. I watched him get drafted on TV and remember the thrill of hearing New Jersey picked him because coincidentally, the college I was planning on attending, Seton Hall, was about 20 minutes away from the arena he would be playing in. Knowing I would be getting to spend, hopefully, the next 4 years with my best friend within a short car ride’s distance away for the first time in 8 years was some of the best news I had gotten in a long time.  The first year was rough but I managed to survive, mainly because of Jack. It took a while to figure out the dynamic of our friendship but we settled into a routine and a comfortable cycle. We went back to Michigan for the summer, spending it with our families. He trained most of the summer while I worked. But almost every evening was spent together. Then it came time for us to head back to Jersey and back to the chaos that waited for us.

“Why are you living in the dorm again next year? When Ty and I have a perfectly good room for you to stay in?” Jack asked, his face way too close to his phone. We had been on FaceTime for at least the last 2 hours, him distracting me as I attempted to do homework.

“Because I can? Why would I wanna live with you and Ty?” I shot back, smirking as he looked offended.

“Well that one hurts. Hey, I was just offering so you didn’t have to worry about getting stuck with a bad roommate, like freshman year.” I grimaced at the thought of my freshman year roommate. I had spent more time camped out in Jack’s apartment than at my own dorm.

“That is a good point. But who said you and Ty are good roommates? I know for one, you never pick up anything, your room was always a disaster when we were little and Ty sings in the shower so there’s two cons.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“My singing is lovely! You’re just jealous you can’t sing as well as me!” Ty yells from across the room as Jack turns the camera to show him.

“We’ll work on the singing. And I’ve gotten much better at cleaning up after myself. I even know how to do laundry now!” Jack says, excitedly. I laugh and put my pen down.

“This really isn’t convincing me to move in with you two. Just saying.”  Jack rolls his eyes.

“Just give us a chance. It’ll be fun.” I shrug.

“Okay fine. But you do know that means Brady will be around the apartment, right?” Jack’s face screws up a little and I roll my eyes. Brady is my boyfriend that I met midway through my freshman year. He was a sophomore, majoring in business and just happened to be at the very first party I went to. He was older, in a fraternity and sweet-talked me. I fell head over heels for him almost instantly. But the issue was that Jack and Ty weren’t huge fans.

“Jack, he's not that bad.” This time it’s Jack’s turn to scoff.

“Yeah because having to go and pick your drunk boyfriend up from a party every 2 nights doesn’t make him that bad.” Ty appears next to him and starts talking.

“Rach, we’re just looking out for you. We don’t exactly love the guy.”

“Well that’s what’s gonna happen so get used to the idea.” Jack looks over at Ty.

“I think we can be civil. So you’re moving in?” I nod and Jack cheers. I roll my eyes and start to think about what I have to pack.

The next two weeks are a whirlwind of chaotic packing and moving. The boys were sweet enough to give me the biggest bedroom in the apartment, even though I had the least amount of stuff out of the 3 of us. Once I had moved in, the boys and I settled into a routine of me cooking, then cleaning up, them doing laundry and me folding; really just a lot of splitting up the housework and jobs around the house to get them done. Brady was around a lot, but Jack and Ty were civil and not complete jerks. I was proud of them. But then one night, while Jack, Ty and I were watching some movie Ty had been wanting to watch, I got yet another call from Brady asking me to come pick him up.

“Baby…I…need you to come get me…I-“ Brady’s drunk voice is drowned out by the yelling and music in the background and I can’t hear him anymore.

“Brady, where are you? I’ll come get you.” He mumbles something back but I can’t understand it so I just end the call.

“I have to go get Brady. He’s drunk at a party again.” I say, sighing as I get up off the couch. Jack and Ty exchange a look and then Jack gets up too.

“I’ll drive you. You’ll have to make sure he doesn’t puke in my car though.” I nod as Ty stands up too.

“Might as well come along for the ride.” I slip my shoes on and follow Jack out the door of the apartment, Ty closing the door behind us.

“Let me check his location and I’ll tell you where we’re going.” After enough times of being left sitting somewhere and having no idea where Brady was, he ended up agreeing to share his location with me. In times like these, it was his saving grace.

“He’s about half an hour away. The party must be somewhere in New York.” Jack doesn’t say anything, just starts driving. The ride there is silent, for the first time. Usually Jack and Ty won’t shut up when we’re in the car, constantly fighting about what music to listen to, whose turn it is to drive; everything under the sun is up for discussion when we’re in the car. I usually sit back and listen, occasionally injecting myself into the conversation when I feel necessary. I’ll also play mediator when they’re fighting over something stupid. But the fact that it was silent in the car right now, made everything so much worse. It feels like we’re driving to the end of the world.

“There’s the house.” I say, almost 45 minutes later. Jack manages to get the car parked and turns around to look at me.

“You want us to come with you to find him?” I shake my head, sliding out of the car and shutting the door behind me. This would be the 5th time I’ve had to pick Brady’s drunk ass up from a party in the last 2 weeks. I was getting pretty tired of it. But his explanation was that it was because he was in a fraternity. He said that it was apart of his “brotherhood” or something stupid like that. I didn’t buy any of it but I loved him so I let it go. And as I waded my way through ridiculously sweaty bodies all dancing to way too loud music, I remembered how much I didn’t like partying.

“Hey you’re Brady’s girlfriend right?” A girl asks, grabbing my arm and yelling over the music. I turn to her and nod, an eyebrow raised.

“I just saw him go into a room with some other girl. Top of the stairs on the left.” I gulped, hoping she was wrong.

“Thanks!” I yell back, hurrying over to the stairs and taking them two at a time. I wind through people going up and down the stairs and manage to get to the door. As my hand finds the handle, I take a deep breath, hoping and praying that the sight behind this door isn’t going to be what I think it is. I finally bite back the fear and push the door open. Sure enough, sprawled out across the bed with some girl’s hands all over his bare chest is my boyfriend.

“Baby? Hey I-“ He says, starting to sit up.

“Fuck you. Hope she’s worth it.” I spit out, glaring at him before turning around to rush out of the room. I stumbled down the stairs, bumping into people and blindly apologizing as I pushed through the crowd. Somehow I managed to make it out of the house and into the back seat of Jack’s car.

“Hey hey hey are you okay? Where’s Brady?” Jack asked, a concerned look plastered across his face.

“He-he cheated on me. Wi-with some girl at the p-party.” I stuttered, fighting the tears pressing against my eyes. He and Ty exchange a look and then both look at me.

“Just drive Jacky. Please.” I whisper as the tears finally start to slow a little. It’s silent again for most of the car ride. My phone kept buzzing with texts and calls from Brady but finally, after what seemed like the thousandth call, I put it on do not disturb and tossed onto the seat next to me.

“Well, I mean, there’s always the option of kicking his ass.” Ty says from the front seat, looking up into the rearview mirror at me.

“What do you say, Jacky boy?” I bury my face in my hands and finally let the tears fall.

“Shit Ty, she’s crying! You broke her!” Jack says, hitting Ty’s arm as he looks back at me.

“I didn’t break her! How is it my fault!” They continue to argue back and forth the rest of the ride home, which would usually make me smile and roll my eyes but not today. Not after what just happened.

As soon as we get back to the apartment, I rush inside and to my room, closing the door behind me. I heard Jack and Ty come in not long after me and whisper about something for a while. I hear the front door open and close again and then Jack tapping lightly on my door.

“Hey Ranch, you okay?” He asks, getting a tiny smile from me because of the nickname.

“I should’ve listened to you and Ty. You said he wasn’t good for me but I didn’t listen. I-I thought he loved me.” This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cried to Jack about boys. I’ve had my share of boyfriends through the years and every single break up was cried out, usually over the phone with Jack.

“Ty went to go get you ice cream and I remembered how much you like bubble baths so I got one ready for you if you want…” He says, awkwardly picking at his thumb and looking at me.

“Seriously, how did I get so lucky to have you as my best friend? You and Ty?” He smiles a little as I sit up and walk over to where he’s standing in the doorway.

“You both are going to make some very lucky girls happy someday, you know that right?” He smiles and nods as I hug him.

“Now aren’t you glad you moved in here?” I smile and nod, looking up at him.

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

#jack hughes #ty smith #best friends #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #jack hughes imagine #ty smith imagine #new jersey devils #the ty to my jack #crying buddies

[thetriggeredhappy]

yo whats good @engiespyweek this is a day late but like dont worry abt it

day 2: hurt / comfort

(warnings for injury, specifically from burns. takes place around Robots Time)

-

Back before the robots, they were expected to work regular hours. Normal days. Practically a nine-to-five, plus a couple of hours most days, but never too long after sundown—and unless they had a mission off-base, they’d get weekends off. It was the most organized war any of them had ever been a part of, to be honest. And it was taxing, sure, the pain and bloodshed, but at least according to Scout it still beat working in food service.

And it wasn’t even all that scary half the time—before the robots, the team was invincible in most senses of the word. It would take some extremely particular situations to kill them, situations they were rarely anywhere near. A doctor on staff, bars in town and a full liquor cabinet on base, a pay grade that few of them even dreamed of, it was a good place to be in their lives. They considered themselves lucky, most days.

But that was before the robots.

The sun was setting over wherever the hell they were. They were going on their second day here, which was usually about how long they spent in one place before they had to move again, following some fickle change of the wind to intercept the next few waves of automatons.

They were exhausted. They didn’t have breaks, truth be told, and only sometimes got to sleep—mostly on the drive to their next destination, sometimes woken up during the night by the distant metallic clanging that functioned as the trumpets of war. Modern era, and all.

Medic was truly running on his last legs. He half operated his infirmary out of the back of one of the trucks they used to transport their equipment, not seeing reason to bother unpacking most days. Soldier was in a tizzy himself, constantly checking and rechecking their supplies, inventory being the only job left out of the multitude he’d had on base before and therefore being one he did near-constantly, and his consensus seemed to be that they were running low on... well, everything. Raiding abandoned warehouses for ammunition and guns just wasn’t cutting it anymore. They’d started to send some of the mercs out hunting for scrap metal when they had the time, and the Engineer was left to work practically around the clock trying to feed it to dispensers and restock to have at least enough to be prepared for battle, and Heavy tended to take over when he absolutely needed to sleep.

But then there were the mercenaries who didn’t have much to do but sit and stew. Sniper mostly took to perching alone somewhere he could watch for the distant dust clouds kicked up by the tanks. Scout ran laps around the perimeter of wherever they were posted up, and on a couple of occasions the two of them were the only warning the team got before the robots showed up. Pyro fretted, for the most part, would sweep by the busy members of the team with something to eat and a supportive pat on the arm. But even then, it was obvious the rest were going stir-crazy. Wanted to help, to take some of the weight back, to help share the load if they could.

This was about the only way Spy could help.

Engineer was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but the fatigue fought against his need to eat the tin full of... something. Meat, some kind of sauce. Spy had cooked it, since they apparently had a stove squirreled away somewhere in this particular warehouse, rations, and the team needed something ‘real’ to eat by his measure. The Engineer managed to keep awake, keep shoveling food into his mouth. Distantly, he understood that it tasted very good, and it overcame the nausea he’d been increasingly plagued with ever since all of this started.

The food was one comfort. The warm weight of Spy leaned against his back was another, the man leaned against him as he ate. Outside there was a particularly vibrant sunset happening, that was a third one, the way the light poured through the window briefly driving away a sort of bone-deep paranoia about darkness. About fear. Apparently that was one reason his father always tried to work with the big garage door of the shop open—being in the sun from time to time was important for all types of health. Or, as Spy put it, he needed to get out of his terrible little machinery lair from time to time or else one day the team would find he’d begun transforming into some sort of mole man.

It made him laugh. He missed laughing, he realized.

Once he had some food in his system, some calm, some time to sit in a position other than bent over a drafting table—and, hell, maybe the sun helped too—he started feeling remarkably more like a human being, started relaxing in increments. Started noticing little things. Dust mites lingering in the last light up above their heads. Distant talking, the distinctive laugh of Demo, Soldier barking something in reply. The sound of Spy taking a pull from his cigarette, quiet enough that he’d only really hear it this close. Quiet motion, like fiddling almost, which struck him as odd. Spy wasn’t much for fiddling and fidgeting. Broad, sweeping, dramatic gestures, those he did every time he got a good excuse—but not fidgeting. It was enough to draw his head up from where it was hanging, casting eyes back over his shoulder.

Spy wasn’t looking at him, apparently focused. “What’re you up to, there?” he asked, suddenly made aware of how rough his throat was. Probably from the near-constant full-volume shouting followed by stretches of silence he got up to these days.

“Simple first aid,” Spy said entirely too casually. So casually, in fact, that it took the Engineer a few seconds to realize what he’d even said.

“What?” he asked, turning more fully to look at Spy, at which point he blanched.

Spy had shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up neatly a short way past his elbows and taken off his gloves and watch, and appeared to be almost done cleaning up and bandaging his left arm, having not started yet on the right one. All up and down his visible skin, and in particular across his palms and wrist, there were a series of mild to severe burns, speckles of dark red and black patching up his forearms, and the Engineer could immediately identify them as being electrical burns, not heat ones.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, deeply startled.

A huff of a laugh from Spy. “Mon ami, I go onto the battlefield and am expected to attack mechanical men with a metal blade,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Electrocution is par for the course, I’m afraid.”

“You really oughta... find some way around that,” the Engineer said carefully. “Rubber hilt, or...”

“Most often I can only even tell I’ve caused enough damage to take down any given robot when the shock happens,” Spy shrugged. “It is not terribly painful, especially compared to gunfire. They simply begin to stack up after a while.”

A careful nod from the Engineer, even if it didn’t quite sit right with him. “Want me to help treat those?” he asked, nodding at where Spy was clearly having a bit of difficulty with bandaging his wrist one-handed.

“Our medical supplies are being too regularly depleted even besides superfluous healing of minor injuries, and as much as I would appreciate a moment sat beside one of your dispensers, I’m afraid it would not be very much in the spirit of teamwork to accept your offer, Laborer. If the remainder of our dreary little group is not allowed to accost the dispenser unnecessarily, neither am I, oui?” Spy asked, tone light.

That was one thing he’d started to learn about Spy, especially as of late. Lying and stealing were things he was well acquainted with, but never for something he considered important. To get on other people’s nerves, to get information maybe, but not something important on a whim. Getting on everyone’s nerves was a different beast than intentionally sabotaging them.

“Well,” the Engineer said, still not quite feeling right about it all. “If not that, I can at least lend a hand with wrapping those up. I know a thing or two about getting shocked. Ain’t a fun predicament to be in.”

Only a moment’s hesitation before Spy shrugged, turning to face him, and the Engineer picked up the salve and bandaging and set to work.

This was more his element. Practical problems. Practical solutions. None of the overarching dread, the waiting for the next disaster, the not quite knowing what to do with himself in the miliseconds before the next chore, the next job, the next drive. Just wrapping a wound. Just fixing a problem.

Distantly, there was the sound of something clattering, Demo cheering. The sun was now out of view, and he heard the sound of lights buzzing to life across the area. The light was getting low, and cold was starting to settle into place, more than welcome after yet another sweltering desert day. The smell of hot metal and sweat faded with each breeze that passed through, leaving only the smell of chilly night air, fresh and welcome. By the time it got dim enough to start making him squint to see properly, and he started to wonder whether he should just push through or get a light from somewhere, he realized he was done.

But instead of a twitchiness, an itch to find something else, the urge to keep moving and to find the next thing he needed to work on, he just felt satisfied. Clean bandages, neat wrappings. A vast improvement over before. And when he looked up to see how Spy felt about it all, the man was smiling, just a little, just enough to see even in how dim the room was.

“...What’s the smirk about?” he asked, feeling a bit embarrassed, as if he was missing something.

“Nothing,” Spy said easily, “I suppose I’m just glad you seem to be feeling better.”

A pause, during which the Engineer realized Spy was right. The tension was gone, the ache in his head was fading into a simple weight, and the nausea had settled into nothingness, leaving him relaxed, steady. He blinked.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped my boundaries,” Spy said after a few moments of that stunned silence, searching his face. “It’s just that for the last several weeks you’ve been stomping around with the third most sour expression I’ve ever seen on you, and it seemed as though nobody else was going to bother stepping in any time soon. I thought that perhaps food and fresh air and polite company may remedy things somewhat, and you seemed determined to only interact with us when you deem it productive.”

“You burned yourself just to get me to sit in one place for a while?” he asked, taken aback.

“Oh, no, non, these burns are truly fairly standard by now,” Spy waved off easily, carefully pulling back on his gloves and watch over the bandages, “I simply prefer to tend to them on my own, the majority of the time. Non, simply a convenient excuse to need your help.”

A pause. “Of all the ridiculous things,” he marveled, blinking at Spy.

In the darkness, he could only barely make out the way Spy’s mouth ticked up into a smirk, watching as he rolled his sleeves back down neatly and reached for his suit jacket. “Well, believe it or not, Laborer, I have been known to stoop to such lows as doing what you call ‘ridiculous things’,” he said, doing his jacket up in an easy motion in the same moment that he rose to his feet, “when I find them to be the only way I can possibly break through to ridiculous men.”

He only had time to sputter over the comment for a second before a gloved hand found his chin, tilting his head up just enough for Spy to lay a kiss soundly to either cheek, and only had time to sputter over that for a second before Spy was snickering and cloaking, a puff of smoke in his wake as he disappeared into the increasing night.

His face felt hot, and he felt that restless energy again, but for an entirely different reason than before, because he wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure cheek kissing was the sort of thing you greeted someone with when you only meant it in a friendly sort of way, and his brain was far too scrambled to remember it properly just then.

Well. Now he had something to think about besides the robots, at least. Damn shame it couldn’t be a nice, neat, practical problem, but despite his best efforts, he really couldn’t find it in him to mind.

Oh, damn it all.

#engiespyweek21 #engiespy #napoleon complex #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #here's hoping this formats right fingers cross

[goodlucktkachuk]

Cheer you up - Carter Hart

Summary: Carter was the best boyfriend you could ever hoped for. The two of you moved in together at the start of quarantine and with school starting up for you again, you’ve been super stressed. He decides to do something nice for you and he planned the perfect at home self care night. When he went shopping he grabbed the wrong kind of face mask and his reaction is more then enough to cheer you up.

Warnings: None this is just super fullfy and cute

Word count: 2k+

Back to school was your favorite times of year. There was something about buying new supplies and the rush of campus that made electricity flow through your body but this year was different. Not only were you cooped up in Philly with your boyfriend Carter but it was your last year of university which added some pressure.

You had met Carter when you guys were sixteen and it was the definition of love at first sight. You went to everyone of his games and were more then extatic when he got drafted to Philly. You had just started university so you stayed in Alberta while he got to live his dream. You guys made the distance work but you were definitely missing some of those quality time moments your friends took for granted in their relationships. When this whole mess of a pandemic started, Carter asked you to move in with him for the time being and you jumped at the chance.

The months before Carter was sent to Toronto were filled with you searching for internships and him doing whatever training he could do at home so you would usually do your own thing but together. The first few weeks of Carter being sent home from the bubble were hard but he had you there to cook him all of his favourites and spend endless nights cuddling to his favorite movies. It was exactlly what he needed to recover as the summer slowly faded away. Now as autumn filled the air it was once again your turn to be stressed.

It was a sunny September morning and you found yourself on your second cup of coffee in Carter’s home office. Your makeup was done perfectly and your hair was pulled up into a messy bun as one of Carter's worn out practices hoodies hung on your frame. You were thankful that your laptop camera cut out the fact you were still in your pjs with a blanket wrapped tight around your waist. As much as you liked the idea of Zoom lectures, the several hours of classes and meetings really dragged the fun out of your days.

Around 10am your boyfriend stumbled out of bed and you could hear the soft hum of music and dishes clanking coming from the kitchen as he made the two of you breakfast. After a few minutes you heard the door slowly creek open and you were met with a sleepy Carter. A smile covering your lips as you watched him make his way into the room. His hair was tousled in every direction and his pjs hung low on his waist giving you a clear view of his entire bare torso. You weren’t with Carter because he was a professional athlete but it was mornings like this you that you could appreciate all the hours he spent training.

You turned off your webcam as he put a smoothie bowl in front of you and planted a kiss on your temple, mumbling a soft I love you against your skin. You pulled him in for a quick kiss and he was gone again. This is how most days went. Carter would bring you breakfast and lunch and refill your water through the day while you worked and he knew when you finally stumbled out of the room it was time for dinner. He was more than happy to have you around but he wished you didn’t have to spend so many hours locked away.

This morning in particular he could see how drained you were and decided that tonight would be all about you. You deserved it with all the hard work you’d been doing. Slipping into your shared bedroom he got dressed and texted you quickly saying he was running to the store and he’d be back soon.

The one thing about Carter was that he prided himself on how romantic he was. He knew you like the back of his hand and used that to his advantage whenever he possible could. Whether it was expensive dinners when you were together, sending you bouquets of sunflowers when he was away or the odd care package full of his clothes with sweet notes in the pockets, the boy knew how to make you happy. Something the two of you had never done though was self care which in hindsight should’ve been one of your first dates because of how much you loved it.

This was the game plan. He was going to the store to pick up all the ingredients he needed to cook you your favorite food, some instant cookie dough for you guys to bake after dinner, face masks to do together and new vanilla soap to end the night with a bath together. After what seemed like the longest shopping experience ever he was met with the last stop, picking out face masks. It didn’t cross Carter's mind that there could be so many different kinds to choose from it kind of overwhelmed him. How could there be this much variety of things you put on your face? Why did they come in so many colors? So many scents? Lost, he randomly grabbed a black bottle for himself and a soft violet one for you and headed home.

When he returned you were still nose deep in books in the same position he left you so he knew you wouldn’t be finished anytime soon. He put the bathroom supplies into a cute basket he picked up and placed it on the corner of the counter as he started assembling dinner. After a few hours you were brought out of your daze by the smell of something delicious filling the room. Closing your book and laptop you decided to wrap it up for the day and see what your boyfriend was up to.

As you made your way to the kitchen you were met with Carters back as he was portioning something out onto two plates. You were in awe as you turned your attention to the table. It was perfectly set with a fresh vase of flowers and your favorite candles were lit to set the mood. You caught your boyfriends eye as he made his way over to the table to set down the two plates. Making his way over to you, he placed his hands lazily around you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Surprise babe!” He was beaming with pride as he walked you to your chair, pulling it out for you to sit.

“What is all this for?” You panicked for a moment thinking you forgot an anniversary or something important. Carter could hear the concern in your voice which made him laugh.

“Just wanted to do something nice for my girl that’s all.” He smiled widely as he filled your glass with white wine.

The meal was absolutely delicious and the company was even better. As you picked up your plate to clear it Carter sent you a look and you slowly placed it back down. He had a rule where if he cooked for you he refused to let you touch the dishes because it was his way of showing how much he loved you. The same rule went a few minutes later as the two of you struggled to make the world's easiest cookies.

“Carter you have to twist it!” You giggled as you watched your boyfriend struggle to pry the top off the cookie dough.

“That doesn’t make sense Y/n!” Tired of watching him struggle you snatched it from his hand.

“Hey! Give that back!” He yelled as he began to chase you around the kitchen. He eventually snatched you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest. At the same time you tapped the cylinder off the counter and cranked it with a hard twist and watched the dough split open.

Pouting into your shoulder Carter let out a sigh of defeat and exhaustion.

“See, if you listened you could have avoided the work out.”

“For you sweetheart, I’d run to the other side of the world .” He leaned down and brought you into a sweet kiss. Even after six years, fireworks still exploded in your stomach everytime his lips touched yours. 

“Hey Alexa, play kinda freaking in love with you on spotify.” You placed the cookie dough on the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his around your waist. You danced around your kitchen for what felt like an eternity. The two of you swaying and spinning, looking into the other eyes with such admiration. Both of you thinking of how sweet this moment would be at your wedding but keeping those thoughts locked up tight. Eventually the preheating timer for the oven went off and ripped the two of you out of your day dream.

“Come one the faster we make these the faster we can eat them!” He sprang out of your grasp and laughter filled the kitchen as you finished up.

Your favorite part about these kinds of nights with Carter was that it felt like you were in your own universe. The two of you were protected from the outside world and all that matter was each other.

Once you had cleaned up it was on to the third phase of the night which you knew was going to be your favorite. Grabbing the basket off the counter you skipped to the bathroom with your boyfriends hand pressed firmly into yours. You hopped up on the counter and handed him the purple bottle as you took the black one in your hand. Extending your leg, you half wrapped it around his and pulled him closer to you. Squirting some of the liquid into your hands you started slowly rubbing it into his skin.

“Ahh babe that's cold!” He chuckled as he tried to pull away.

“Just sit still! You’ll get used to it I promise.” He relaxed into your touch and stopped fighting you. Soon after you were done he followed suit, putting the light purple clay all over your face with only light guidance. You stayed like that while the masks dried. Your legs lazily tangled in his with his hands on your waist whispering sweet nothings with massive grins covering your faces. Hopping off the counter you pulled out your phone to snap a cute picture of the two of you and it was time to take off the masks.

“So all you have to do is start at the edge of your face and pull gently.” You demstraded, wincing slightly as it pulled on your skin.

“What do you mean pull? I thought you just washed these off with water?”

“Some kinds yes but you bought peel off ones.”

“I did?”

You reached down and placed the bottle into his hand. Examining it closely seeing you were right a look of horror crossed his face. You didn’t pay much mind to your boyfriend as you were pulling off your own mask. He had gotten most of it off his face with minimal mumbling of curse words but then he ran into a problem.

“Y/n…” his vice trailed off as he looked at you and you burst out laughing. Carter stood in front of you with his face mask clingy to his stubble making it look like he had bread and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Y/n this isn’t funny help me!” He whined, causing you to laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay! Sit still muffin. This is gonna hurt a little bit.” a wicked grin covered your face as you worked.

You tried your best not to hurt him too bad and he honestly took it like a champ. When it was all over you peeled off your mask. You could hear the water begin to run in the other direction and you could also hear the sound of Carter’s clothes hitting the floor making your cheeks stain red. It wasn’t long before your clothes joined his pile on the floor and you were wrapped in the warm embrace of both your boyfriend and the water. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch and felt his chest rise and sink against your back. He placed a small kiss on your temple and pulled you in closer.

“I love you.”

“Love you more C.”

#carter hart #soft fic #carter hart imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #philidelphia flyers #flyers imagine #hockey

[seasonofthewicth]

quarantine questions

AN: this was inspired by the incredible @highqueenofelfhame ‘s fic everyone’s favourite teacher (which you can find here xxx and I 100% recommend). I absolutely adore that fic and couldn’t help but write my own spin on teacher Rowan and Aelin. 

p.s. one day I will write Aelin as something other than a teacher, today is just not that day. 

p.p.s. this isn’t a proposal fic I just can’t think of titles. Anyway, enjoy!

word count: ~2.2k

part 2 - part 3

------ 

Aelin loved her job, she really did, but Gods did quarantine make it difficult.

Normally she loved seeing the kids, they were great fun, and most of them wanted to learn and wanted to be in her classroom which meant the environment was positive and enjoyable. Even the kids that didn’t want to be there could usually be won over with a few tricks or promises of treats, which was always rewarding.

The interactions with the kids were what made her get up in the morning, the reason she had become a teacher in the first place was to satisfy her desire to help nurture children and to help them grow. But then the global pandemic had hit and the access to her students was reduced.

Not only did she have to adapt to trying to teach her lessons online, working out how the content could be explained using only her voice and a computer screen had pushed her in ways she hadn’t expected. While it was satisfying when she figured things out Aelin knew her lessons over zoom weren’t up to her usual standard.

That was the reason she had let her students know she would be at her desktop for an extra half an hour every day after school usually finished, for them to come to her if they had any problems or anything they wanted her to go through with them. Normally she would have operated her open-classroom-door policy, but a virtual replacement would have to do.

A good number of her students had taken up her offer of extra time to go through problems with her in the few weeks since she had started it, some came in groups for extra explanation for her lessons or some came individually for personal guidance.

As the clock struck 3:30 she joined the zoom call to wait for any students to join. It wasn’t long before a notification popped up telling her a student was requesting access to the call.

“Hello,” She called once the student had entered the call.

“Hey Miss G.” The student on the call was a young girl named Evangeline. 

Evangeline was an enthusiastic student and always tried her best. She sometimes struggled with the content, but her perseverance was what gave Aelin such a soft spot for her.

“Hey Evangeline, what can I do for you today?” She asked, making sure her tone was upbeat enough to invite questions.

“I just have a few questions about your lesson today I was hoping we could go through them?”

“Of course,” She said, grabbing her notepad and pen in case she needed to do any drawing of diagrams to aid her explanation, or make any notes for herself.

It didn’t take her long to go through Evangeline’s list of questions, they were all genuine and thought provoking, and it made Aelin smile knowing Evangeline had thought deeply about her teaching.

“Is that everything for today?” She asked capping her pen. “How are all the rest of your classes going?”

Evangeline took a deep breath, looking down below her computer screen and Aelin’s stomach turned nervously.

“They’re okay…” She started. “Most of them are fine, Spanish is even going well, it’s just Maths.”

Aelin shuffled where she sat, hoping the conversation wasn’t going where she thought it was as her student continued.

“I’m in Mr Whitethorn’s class, and his teaching in our lessons is fine, I’m just really struggling with the assignments. The class is huge too, so I don’t like to speak when I don’t get something.”

Mr Whitethorn.

Mr Rowan Whitethorn.

Aelin’s boyfriend of three years, not that Evangeline knew that, who was currently sitting in the room next door where he had been teaching his own zoom classes for the past few weeks.

She had met Rowan when she joined the school almost four years ago, she was newly qualified and nervous for her first proper teaching job. She had made friends quickly within her own department, the other history teachers Yrene and Elide were great fun and always up for a raucous night of drinking with Aelin. They had taken her under their wings when Aelin first started, which had led to her meeting Rowan.

The school was one of the largest in their district, meaning the different departments didn’t often mix, but one night Elide had brought along her boyfriend Lorcan, another maths teacher, who brought along his co-worker Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn had not been what Aelin had expected. She remembered seeing him in the halls at school, dressed smartly in his button down and slacks, square framed glasses hiding most of his face.

In the bar Rowan Whitethorn had looked like a god. His tightly-fitted t-shirt highlighting his strongly-built arms and allowing her a long look at his intricate tattoo stretching down one of his arms that had previously been hidden. His silver hair shining in the bright lights as he towered over her to greet Elide.

He had flashed her a grin as he had taken the seat next to her and introduced himself and Aelin had been gone. Hooked on his slanted smile and the twinkle in his shining green eyes.

They had got along well all night, and he had bid her farewell with a chaste kiss on the cheek. The next morning she swallowed her pride and asked Elide if she could pass along his number. Elide had only replied with a phone number and a smirking emoji.

From there their relationship had been simple, but not boring. He drew out her fire and she loved him for it.

They had kept their relationship hidden at school, which had proven difficult once the quarantine kicked in and they had to hide the fact that their zoom lessons were taking place in the same house.

Aelin sighed, her attention only briefly drawn away from her student. “I’m sorry to hear that, Evangeline. Have you tried contacting Mr Whitethorn separately to let him know that you’re struggling? I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help you if he knew.”

She knew her boyfriend would be horrified to find out that a student was struggling and had been too shy to ask for help.

“No,” The young girl started, still blushing. “I’m not really sure what I would say.”

“I could help you draft an email if you wanted?” Aelin offered immediately and let out a soft sigh of relief as Evangeline nodded enthusiastically.

-----

Once her call with Evangeline had finished where Aelin had helped her to compose a draft email to Mr Whitethorn she shut her computer and left her office. She padded into the living room where she found her boyfriend lounging on the sofa, dressed in a pair of light grey sweats and a Doranelle University sweatshirt. 

Seeing him dressed so casually in their home sent a warm jolt through her chest, and an only slightly lesser rush of warmth headed somewhere slightly lower through her at the sight of him.

She flopped down next to him and burrowed her nose into his neck, breathing in his pine and snow scent.

“Hello, you.” His voice was soft as he pecked a kiss onto her cheek. “How was your day?”

She laughed, tilting her head up to face him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him today; they coordinated their breaks to see each other throughout the days.

“Fine,” She said with a sly smile. “I helped one of my students draft an email for her ever so wonderful maths teacher, Mr Whitethorn, to ask for some extra help.”

“Oh Gods,” He laughed, a loud and bright sound, and tucked an arm around her shoulders pulling her in tight. “What a nightmare. He sounds like a great teacher to me.”

She snorted. “And modest.”

He poked her side. “I think he’ll get back to them tomorrow, he’s busy now anyway.”

With that he pressed a more meaningful kiss to her cheek and peppered them all the way down until his lips were pressed against her own. She leaned into the kiss, twisting her fingers through his thick hair to pull him closer towards herself.

It was incredible how he still managed to ignite her blood with a kiss, her skin burned where he touched. He slid his hands down her sides, tucking one into the crook of her knee and hitching her leg up over his own.

After a few minutes she managed to draw herself back for a breath. “He is very busy.” She pressed one last kiss against his lips. “Cooking his beautiful girlfriend her dinner. She’s very hungry.”

He growled, face pressed tightly against her neck and nipped the skin lightly with his teeth, a promise for later, but stood up, nonetheless. He held his hand out for hers and tugged her up to follow him to the kitchen.

-----

She knew Rowan had seen Evangeline’s email, and had arranged his own one-to-one session with her over zoom to go through her questions. They mostly tried to stay out of each other’s teaching, knowing that everyone had different styles and used different techniques, but they shared general pieces of information about their roles and their students.

She knew Evangeline was feeling better about his class now, she’d told her a couple of weeks later in another one of her post-school hours drop ins that she had spoken with him and he had offered her guidance on the assignment.

She also told Aelin that Mr Whitethorn had opened up the chat facility for students who weren’t confident in speaking aloud to ask questions during his lessons. Aelin had to bury her smirk at the comment, hiding the fact that Aelin herself had made that suggestion to a worried Rowan.

She was currently on an extended drop in session with around fifteen of her students going through one of the larger pieces of coursework she was setting for the class. She had tried to avoid setting large pieces of assessed work throughout the pandemic as she knew how difficult it was to work from home and she understood that not all students had a level playing field when working from home, but this one had been unavoidable.

This session had run way past the time she had allocated for it; they were over an hour into the half-hour time slot she normally used at the end of the day for the sessions.

She was listening to her students’ discussions of their ideas for the coursework, she encouraged group work and collaboration as long as the final pieces of work were completed independently.

She nodded along silently, until she heard a voice from behind her.

“Aelin, are you coming—” Rowan’s voice cut off as he froze in the doorway. 

She gasped, whirling in her seat, aware of the students on her call falling silent.

Her eyes flew back to her computer screen to check the small square in the corner that showed what her students could see of her.

Rowan was clearly well inside the frame where he stood behind her, frozen with his hand on the door handle, his mouth hanging open in an exaggerated o-shape.

She turned back towards him, her own eyes as wide as his as they met, neither knowing what to say or how they could explain his presence in her house with anything other than the truth. She knew there were too many students on her session for this to stay a secret too, the news would spread along the student network in no time.

Rowan’s mouth snapped shut and he began to inch backwards to where he had come from, but he was interrupted by a voice.

“Hey Mr Whitethorn.” Evangeline’s voice was clear over the zoom call, and it snapped Aelin out of her stupor.

“Hey guys,” Rowan’s voice was croaky. “I’ll just be—”

“Mr Whitethorn will be going now.” At her raised eyebrows he raised his hands in apology and crept back out of the room, pulling the door closed softly behind himself.

Aelin dropped her forehead to her hands and puffed out a laugh, before glancing back up at her screen.

At least five of her students were visibly on their mobiles, tapping away. Those who weren’t all wore mischievous grins. This was mortifying.

“I know why he was so helpful after our chat now Miss G.” Evangeline’s voice was smug even over the video call.

“Yes, well. Sorry about that, anyway, moving on.” She could move past this; she would move past this.

----

She left the room once the call with her students was finished, most of the awkwardness had cleared by the time the call had ended, but she had no doubt that there wasn’t a single student in the school who wouldn’t have heard about this by the next day.

She collapsed onto the sofa, her face buried in a pillow next to where Rowan sat, looking down at her sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry Aelin.”

She let out a muffled scream before taking a deep breath and looking up at him, a wonky smile spreading across her face.

“It’s not your fault,” She told him. “It’s this rutting quarantine.”

------ 

In regard to tags, I have so far assumed that anyone who has previously asked to be tagged had requested specifically for my new girl au fic, if you want to be added to a general tag list for things like this please let me know!

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fic #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfic #aelin galathynius #tog #my fics #quarantine #au #rowaelin au

[heartsandmuses]

tiktok famous

for @stonyweek​ 2020 // prompt: “social media”

steve rogers/tony stark. rated g. 1.8k. universe: mcu.

Two months after the rest of the team gets TikTok, Steve finally caves and makes an account of his own.

He doesn’t tell anyone though, because while his grasp on technology is better than what most would assume, part of the fun is letting people think he’s completely helpless. It’s made for some pretty amusing afternoons, between Clint trying to teach him for an hour straight exactly how to empty the recycle bin on his laptop and Bruce attempting to talk him through uploading a photo onto his Google Drive, and Steve figures that the team’s exasperation at his supposed tech incompetency might make for a few good videos.

And it does — his popularity soars seemingly overnight, and it’s only a matter of days before people start to catch on to the fact that Captain America’s making TikToks now and barely a week before he’s amassed hundreds of thousands of followers.

Unfortunately, that means the team’s caught on too.

It’s a bit of a disappointment that he can’t continue to be—as Clint would say—a troll, now that they know he’s not as much of an old man as previously thought, but there’s still plenty else he can do on the app. In the week after his account gets verified, Steve isn’t sure how many videos he gets dragged into, but between all the dance covers Natasha teaches him, all the easy food hacks Bruce does, and all the workouts Thor records, he’s certain that he’s made an appearance in well over a hundred drafts for the other Avengers’ profiles.

Not that he minds all that much. It gives him a chance to explore the full scope of TikTok in a way he probably wouldn’t on his own.

—   —   —

It’s Peter who introduces Steve to the concept of TikTok “challenges,” which, really, consist of anything ranging from simple choreography to lighthearted pranks, and Steve takes it upon himself to scroll through the kid’s profile for some fresh ideas.

It’s a slow weekend anyway, no missions planned or battles to fight, and the renovations in the gym thanks to Hulk’s latest tantrum means that all team training sessions are cancelled until next week. Outside, rain patters against the windows of the common room; the TV’s on low, playing a rerun of some competitive cooking show that Tony, sprawled out on the other side of the couch, fell asleep in front of, having lost interest about halfway through. Steve smiles as he lets his gaze trace over Tony’s profile—his messy hair, the curve of his nose, the way his eyelashes fan over his cheeks—and when his eyes finally turn back towards his phone...

Steve blinks.

Because the next video he lands on is tagged #KissYourBestFriendChallenge. And if he happened to miss the tiny print at the bottom of the screen, a text bubble pops up in the first few seconds with exactly the same words.

The video starts off innocently enough, with Peter and Ned laughing and joking around in what Steve assumes is Peter’s bedroom, both of them sitting on the floor with a half-finished Lego Death Star between them. Steve has the volume turned on low, but he can still hear Ned’s breathy Vader impression, as he holds up one of the figurines and walks it along the carpet. Peter laughs, and when his gaze shifts from the Lego figurine back up to Ned’s face, bright and beaming, his grin softens at the edges, expression turning into something much more... wistful and wanting and affectionate.

Something smitten.

Ned’s gaze meets Peter’s once again, and he trails off in the middle of his sentence when he sees him leaning in, closer and closer until their lips finally meet. It’s a tender kiss, a hesitant one, but Ned pulls away after a moment, partly in surprise and partly to search Peter’s face, a look of— of astonishment, of realization, coming over his own. And just like that, he leans back in and kisses him silly, smiling against Peter’s mouth.

Steve’s heart clenches, his eyes drifting back down to the bottom of the screen, and right next to the extensive list of hashtags, the caption reads: he feels the same way, followed by a row of heart emojis.

He’s known for a while that Peter’s been going out with Ned, but Steve had no idea that this is how they got together, and as he thinks about that look of mutual longing that they’d shared, he can’t help but glance back over at Tony, still blissfully asleep and snoring soundly.

—   —   —

Steve can’t get the idea out of his head.

It might have something to do with the fact that he’s spent the past few days going through the hashtag, watching as people have their dreams come true or—equally as often—dashed. But Steve’s a strategist, he needs to consider all possible outcomes before he can start to even plan, and while there’s a very large, very scared part of him that wants to call the whole thing off before it can even really begin, he knows, deep in his gut, that no better opportunity would ever present itself to tell Tony how he feels.

Steve’s brave, but he’s not the kind of brave that can go up to his best friend directly and confess his love to him. He’s learned that lesson all too well from silently pining around Bucky for the better part of a decade, and Steve knows he won’t be able to go through the same thing again. Even if Tony does reject him—which is a possibility he’s certainly preparing himself for—at least he’ll know for sure that he doesn’t have a chance, instead of being stuck in the familiar limbo of wondering and wanting and hoping.

And if that does happen, if Tony turns him down, Steve’s reassured by the fact that he can play it off as a joke, say it was all just for the challenge. That’s been his biggest concern in the past, whenever he would consider taking the leap and asking Tony out, the risk of something shattering between them. Their friendship, their closeness, what they have right now — none of it is worth throwing away just because Steve can’t tamp down his desire.

He’s thrown himself into some hastily thought-out plans in the past, but this one feels pretty foolproof.

—   —   —

Steve isn’t sure how it’s possible, really, but there’s just something about the sight of Tony laughing—crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes, lips curling into a grin—that makes him about ten times more handsome than he usually is. It’s just as heart-stopping as it is distracting, and it takes a good five minutes for Steve to even remember why he’d come down to the lab in the first place.

Officially, the excuse he gave Tony is that he needs some input on which TikTok to post next; unofficially, Steve’s just trying to calm his racing heart as he watches his best friend go through the entirety of his drafts folder, trying to muster up every ounce of courage he has, for one little moment. One little kiss.

“I think this one’s a real winner,” Tony says, turning the phone back towards Steve, and on the screen is a time-lapse of him sketching the Tower. He has a few others like that up on his profile already, quick little drawings of the common room or of the team, and Steve realizes with some embarrassment that if Tony went into his camera roll he would find more than a few real-time recordings of Steve sketching full pages of those warm, brown eyes and those long, fanning eyelashes. “The pranks and storytimes are fun and all, but I like the videos of your art the best.”

There’s such a startling sincerity in his words that it makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. He feels warm and nervous all at once, stomach churning and palms sweating, and he gets so lost in the adoring look in Tony’s eyes that he doesn’t notice for a long moment how close they really are. And it doesn’t stop, either. They just keep getting closer and closer and—

Steve’s leaning in, he realizes. He’s leaning in and he can see Tony’s tongue dart out to wet his lips, can see Tony’s gaze dropping to Steve’s mouth, can see a flicker of want in his eyes, pure and desperate, and that’s all Steve needs to know before he kisses him.

For days all he could imagine were the countless ways that Tony might let him down gently, pulling back with a laugh and a friendly squeeze to his shoulder, shaking his head and telling him that they’re better off as friends. But Tony doesn’t do any of that. He kisses back almost instantly, hands coming up to cup Steve’s cheeks, and Steve absolutely melts into the touch. It’s sweet and gentle and perfect, and now that he doesn’t have to worry about playing it off as a prank anymore, he pours everything he’s feeling into it — everything he’s been feeling, for all these years. All of his longing, his fondness, his desire.

All of his love.

The kiss seems to last somewhere between a second and an eternity, and when he finally pulls back to look into Tony’s eyes, he can see it all, every thought and feeling written out so clearly in his expression, a picture-perfect mirror of his own. Steve smiles, as a rush of relief fills his chest, and he can’t help but lean in again, just as his heart flutters and his stomach swoops and he thinks, with absolute certainty, he feels the same way.

—   —   —

JARVIS catches the entire exchange on video for him, along with the elated and impromptu make-out session that had ensued immediately afterwards, and while Steve plays back the footage of that initial kiss at least a hundred times, smiling stupidly at his phone, he doesn’t upload it.

It just feels too... intimate, too personal, for the rest of the world to see, at least right now. Steve just wants to keep the moment—and Tony—to himself for a little longer, and so, what he posts instead is the time-lapse of him drawing the large, looming Tower and the cityscape surrounding it.

—   —   —

Days later, he posts another sped-up sketch. This time, it’s one of Tony, with that big, gorgeous grin, that familiar twinkle in his eyes; it’s the exact expression that came over his face after Steve had kissed him, and it feels good, committing it not only to memory, but to paper as well.

But his followers aren’t completely clueless, he knows that, and it’s over the next few weeks—during which Steve gets a little more confident in uploading his drawings of Tony—that they begin to suspect something might be going on between the two of them.

Steve, of course, never outright confirms nor denies their claims, though he does, three months into their relationship, film that “walk into the room naked and record your boyfriend’s reaction” challenge, and that pretty much says it all.

#stony week 2020 #stonyweek #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #otp: put on the suit #ficlets #fics #my fics #my writing #mine #amy talks

[lovely-haechan]

Locking your phone, you turn to look at Renjun who is sitting next to you on the couch. “You think I have time for a quick nap?” He raises an eyebrow in confusion. “I mean, you can, but Jaemin is going to be here in like 10 minuets. You could just sleep in the car on the way to his parents’ house, though,” he suggests. “Yeah I guess,” you sigh out. You pulled an all nighter last night to do all the work you wouldn’t have time to do while you’re out with your friends this weekend, and it’s really starting to hit you now. You almost don’t open your eyes with your next blink. “Are you excited for our mini vacation?” Renjun asks, noticing that you’re about to pass out. “Yeah. I’m not really excited that there might be a lot of people at the party, but I’m glad we get to spend a few days with just us. I feel like we don’t spend enough time as a whole group anymore,” you say, shifting to sit upright so you aren’t tempted to dose off again. “Yeah I get that,” he responds. “We should try to do this again when we’re not stressing about organizing a party. Just all of us hanging out.” “Ooh that reminds me, my roommate is going home next weekend, you guys should come over for a movie night next weekend,” you say. “Oh yeah, that would be fun,” he smiles at you. A knock at the door draws you two out of your conversation and Renjun goes to answer it. “Hey Jaemin, come in,” you hear your friend say. “Hey Jaemsie,” you say, standing up as the two enter the living room. “Hey Y/n,” he smiles at you. “You guys ready to go? I figured you might need help carrying decorations downstairs.” “Yeah we’re ready. We only have three boxes of decorations, nothing two crazy,” Renjun tells him, then he turns to you. “Do you want to grab a pillow or something while we bring these down? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable if you end up falling asleep in the car.” “Yeah okay, thanks guys,” you say as you walk to your room. Once you make it out to Jaemin’s car with your backpack and pillow in tow, you notice Renjun sitting in the backseat. “Bubs, I’ll sit back here,” you tell him while opening the backdoor, “I’m about to pass out anyways and I don’t want to leave Jaemsie up there by himself.” “Oh, yeah okay that makes sense,” he says while unbuckling his seatbelt and making his way to the front. And with that, you begin your two hour journey to Jaemin’s house, and your two hour nap in Jaemin’s backseat. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When you woke up from your nap, it was already 6:30. You look up to see that the car is parked in front of Jaemin’s house and Renjun is sitting in the front seat scrolling on his phone. “Did we just get here?” You ask through a yawn, unbuckling the seatbelt and stretching out your arms. Renjun jumps slightly at the sound of your voice, facing you as he turns off his phone. “No, we got here about an hour ago.” “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” You pouted, feeling guilty that they let you sleep in the car that long after your arrival when they could’ve woke you up. “Well since you were still asleep when we got here, we figured that if we start bringing stuff into the house then you might wake up from all the noise. When you didn’t, we sat with you for a bit before Jeno and Jisung got here, then Jaemin had to go let them in and stuff so I decided to stay and wait until you woke up.” “Oh okay, let’s head in then.” The two of you join your friends in the living room where they were having a heated discussion about what to have for dinner. “Look I get you’re a local and everything, but literally when has Domino’s ever done us wrong?” A huffy Jeno directs to Jaemin. Jisung is sitting in a recliner between the two boys, and he looks at you with pleading eyes. It’s safe to assume they had been discussing for a while. “And I’m telling you that the Domino’s here is shit. We’d be better off having Mark make us something.” “Well first of all you should never compare something as delicious as Domino’s to Mark trying to cook. Second of all-“ “Hey look, it’s Y/n and Renjun,” you cut off Jeno’s rebuttal before you have to listen to anymore of their culinary analysis. They turn to look at you and Renjun, clearly caught off guard by your entrance. “Hey,” Jaemin beams at you, “did you sleep well?” “Yeah,” you say as you sit next to him on the couch and Renjun sits next to Jeno across from the two of you. The two of them and Jisung delve into a discussion about the plans for the long weekend. “I know you guys meant well but you should’ve woke me up. I could’ve helped bring stuff in or something.” “Nah, you were tired and needed to sleep, so it wasn’t a problem,” he reassures you with a pat on your knee. “Plus Renjun and I don’t really hang out one-on-one that much, so it was nice to visit with him for a bit.” “Well that’s good, I’m glad. Although it’s shame to see that the two of you were not the least bit distraught at my absence.” Jaemin laughs lightly at that. “Oh don’t worry, you were all we were talking about.” It was your turn to laugh. “So, bedhead, we just decided to say fuck Jaemin and order Domino’s, you cool with that?” Jeno asks. “Yeah I’m cool with whatever- wait what?” You pull out your phone and look into the reflection to see that, in fact, your hair had gotten tousled on the ride over and no one informed you of it until just now. Rolling your eyes, you send a glare to Jeno. “What ever happened to ‘hey Y/n, your hair is kinda messy, let me fix that for you,’?” “Hey Y/n, your hair is kinda messy, let me fix that for you,” Jaemin says as he reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You stare up at him as he does this, admiring the gentle touch of his hand as it grazes over your forehead just the slightest bit and follows the way down all the way to the bottom of your ear. His gaze falls to yours as his hand finds purchase on your shoulder. The moment doesn’t last long, though, before you’re moving away and looking to your other friends who are watching the scene unfold. “Um, oh yeah, I’m good with whatever,” you direct to Jeno while you stand up. “I’m going to go get changed real quick, where did you guys put my bag?” “It’s in Jaemin’s room. It’s the second door to the right once you go upstairs,” Renjun answers. You shoot him a quick ‘thanks’ before walking toward the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the five of you had finished the gross pizza- although none of you mentioned that to Jaemin- and had settled in for a movie, you were starting to feel much more tired than you did before and were ready to go to sleep. You look to where Jaemin had been sitting next to you on the couch and he seemed to be extremely invested in the movie. You felt bad for interrupting him. “Hey, Jaemsie?” He flinches slightly at the broken silence. “Yeah, what’s up?” “Oh, I’m just ready for bed, where were we sleeping tonight?” “Oh yeah, you and Renjun are going to sleep in my room and me, Jeno, and Jisung are going to sleep in my parents’ room.” You frown at this. “Why don’t you just sleep in your room? I feel bad for stealing it.” He chuckles briefly at your pout. “I don’t mind. We figured since you and Renjun have had sleepovers and stuff before it wouldn’t be a problem for you guys to share a bed, and my parents’ room is big enough for three people so it’ll be fine. Plus it would be kinda weird for them to sleep in my parents’ bed without me.” “Less weird than me and Renjun sleeping in your bed?” You question him, only half understanding his logic. “Look Y/n, if you’re trying to get me into bed with you, you can just ask.” He adds a shit-eating grin at the end. “What if I was? Was it working?” He choked on his saliva at this, obviously not expecting you to joke back, but he recovered quickly. “Ah,’ he sighed out, “I don’t think our friends would enjoy us hooking up while they’re down the hall in my parents’ room. Sound really carries in this house, if you didn’t know.” “Ah, you raise a valid point. What a shame, maybe next time,” you pat his thigh lightly as you get up, bidding the others a ‘goodnight’ as you make your way upstairs for the second time that night, this time not missing the way the TV volume lowers ever so slightly and the way your friends exchange whispers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Out of State 


Chapter 8- Bedhead 


Chapter 7 ~ Masterlist ~ Chapter 9


Taglist: @elysianana @stopitvpls @ridinhyuck @taeyongsupremecy @nitsunie @hecapiecna


A/N: It’ s the fact that this was 1.5k words for me. Also, not @ this sitting in my drafts since yesterday bc I thought I clicked post😭✋🤧 Also also sorry @ tallest if you get a notif for this twice, the format wigged out and I had to reformat this and add all the tags back😔✋

#out of state series #nct dream sm au #nct dream social media au #nct dream college au #nct dream series #nct dream x reader #renjun x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #nct sm au #nct social media au #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #nct 2020 #lovely-haechan