#absolutely everything about this is burned into my retinas

[k-atsukibakugou]

happy birthday to the man!! — katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them

pairing: bakugou x f!reader w/c: 1.5k warning/s: nsfw 18+, m! & f!masturbation; sex toys, i think that's everything notes: this is a bit short BUT i had to get something out for the man, this took me like 2 weeks to write but hopefully now i'll be out of my slump a little bit! pls enjoy c:

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

18+ MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DNI

fuck… he really doesn’t know when the lines started to blur between friend and fantasy, from wanting to hang out with you to wanting you, from talking to you about your day to being bricked up hearing your voice. yet, here he was, hot water streaming down his neck, plastering damp hair to his forehead; the water pouring over his head nowhere near enough to wash his mind of you.

he’d been plagued by you, morning to night, even in his damn dreams since he tried to find a phone charger at your place.

it’s not like he was snooping, he wasn’t trying to find that sort of thing, bakugou was only trying to find your spare charger, he’d seen you put it in one of these drawers before, how was he meant to know you left your spare chargers right below all of that?

he’d slammed the drawer shut the absolute second he realised exactly what he was staring at; the bedside drawer stuffed to the brim with bright, phallic toys, a collection of smaller, rounder vibrators, something that looked awfully similar to a gag, and he heard the telltale metal clinking of at least one pair of handcuffs against the wood when he slammed it closed. embarrassing heat crawled up his neck, burning his cheeks and setting the very tips of his ears alight. stuck in the same spot, mouth half opened dumbly, his eyebrows creased in the centre of his face, all blood rushing from his brain down to his half-hard cock already straining against his pants, the need making him ache.

every hour since that, he’d spent thinking of what your wet cunt looked like swallowing the toys; so pretty and drippy, how it looked tensing around nothing when you came from the buzzing of your vibrator, how you’d look writhing and moaning handcuffed with that gag in your mouth, how your drool would stain your shirt, sticking the fabric to your skin. god, it was just so lewd, even under the purifying water, he felt dizzy, sticky, hot, sweaty, the image of your toys burnt into his retinas, no matter what he tried to distract himself with, he always saw your toys at the forefront of his mind, the perverted imagery refusing to budge from its newfound home.

bakugou groans, a deep, rough sound drowned out by the even buzzing echoing in his ears, the sound slowly building, kicking to a new level when your whine drowns it out. you always start nearly silent in his dreams, just tiny gasps escaping your parted lips when you’d nestle the toy right against your clit. you only get louder from there, your eyebrows scrunching together like his own were, marking two little tallies in the middle, tilting upwards at the centre as you pulled your lip up between your teeth. the motion did absolutely nothing to muffle your sounds, your whimpers and moans only growing louder with every heave of your chest, every passing moment with the vibrator pressed to your pulsing clit making your hips jolt into it.

you reach between your thighs with a whine that sounds all too similar to his name torn from your lips, dipping your fingertips in your slick cunt, collecting all the cum gathering at your trembling hole without even taking a breather from humping your vibrator like your life depended on it. your movements grew jerkier and jerkier the longer the intense vibrations were held to your drooling pussy, your eyes fluttering closed with a breathless shout of his name, shaky, wet thighs squeezing around your hand, even as the vibrator slipped from your grip, falling forgotten onto the sheets beneath you, the constant stimulation growing too much for you—

“fuck.” he really couldn’t help it, his hand travelling lower down his abdomen, trailing behind droplets of water still running down his torso to his hard cock, the tip already leaking from the thought of you. wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, he squeezed once before twisting his wrist, slowly jerking his cock, wondering if you were in your shower doing the same, fucking yourself on one of your toys imagining him in its place just as he wished it was your warm cunt squeezing around his dick instead of his hand.

“katsukiii—” bakugou can feel you beside him, your figure displacing the dense steam surrounding him, a heavy, thick silicone dildo hanging from the glass wall of the shower, your figure slick and soapy from the shower, damp hair sticking to the soft skin of your neck and face when you bent at the waist, lining the tip of the plastic cock up with your drooling hole. the head of the cock would slide into your cunt all too easily in his fantasies, always greedy to watch you take more and more, inch by inch sinking onto it. your mouth falls further open the more you take of the toy, the pleasure too much for you to even hold your head up by the time your ass was pressed against the cool glass, your back arching with the tip of the dildo nestled deep inside your cunt. he wonders if the curve of it would rub on your g-spot at this angle, if it would drive you crazy grinding against the glass, whining when you can’t take it anymore.

bakugou’s head falls back thinking of you reaching for the shower head, his cock pulsing in his hand when he grips the base, his muscles tensing and relaxing while he tried desperately not to cum; the image of you playing behind his eyelids making that a near impossible task. even with his eyes squeezed shut, there you are at the forefront of his mind, switching the settings of the shower head to a concentrated stream, aimed directly at your aching clit, your broken moan jolting his hips forward into his hand, stroking the length languidly. your voice wavered, repeating his name again, the stimulation inside and outside your cunt just so overwhelming.

bracing against the tile with your spare hand, you lift yourself back off the toy, the base suctioned to the glass remaining stuck as you grew quicker in your movements, starting to bounce and roll your hips in a smooth tempo. he matches the pace of your hips with his fist, his breath coming out in nothing but deep huffs. his uneven groans were nothing compared to your sweet chorus of moans and whines, an endless symphony playing in his head of “ah-ah-ah”’s and “mmmng”’s the closer you got, your cum coating the toy just like his pre was smearing all over his fist.

he can’t help the guttural sound that escapes him next, a garbled, broken version of your name when your thighs tremble, your knees only moments away from buckling from the pure bliss; the water is still aimed at your clit, even when you can’t bounce on the dildo anymore, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you until your eyes rolled into your skull and your cum gathered in a creamy ring at the base of the toy, your ass flattening against the glass as you greedily took more of the toy, intensifying the euphoria wracking through your body. he knows your toy fills your cunt so perfectly, knows how you’d hump the air to get more and more of the water aimed at your clit, unrelenting in chasing your orgasm, jolting and jerking until your knuckles turned white against the tile wall, until your voice was so high and loud it didn’t even sound like you anymore.

he wonders if you’d ever screamed taking the fake cock, if you’d ever been so overwhelmed you squealed, your pretty cunt clenching around the toy, milking the poor plastic for everything it can’t give you, or if he’d be the first to make you cum so intensely.

“ka-aa-ki—” you can’t even spit his name out, your name the same mess on his plump lips, caught so hard between sharp teeth he worries he’ll split the thin skin. all his muscles tense, his abdomen clenching low on his stomach, the veins stretching along the underside of his cock throbbing with the need to join you in the throes of pleasure, to cover your cunt in milk white cum you desperately tried to squeeze from the silicone.

your name is a choked mantra tumbling from his lips, over and over again, dark crimson eyes rolling into the back of his skull the longer you bounced on the toy, pinching sensitive nipples between your slippery, soapy fingers, dragging your orgasm out as long as you could, as long as he would, until your knees were weak and your couldn't even manage to dumbly spit out his name anymore.

“fuck.” he damn near whines, a mess of cum covering his fingers, coating his knuckles as he kept fucking his fist through the waves of his own orgasm, shivering even with the hot water running down his body, cleaning his hand even as he continued to stroke his cock, relaxing his muscles as his toes still curled, his knuckles stark white against the tile.

his head fell forward onto the cooling tile, a temporary relief for the haziness swirling around in the steam.

shit, how was he meant to look you in the eyes after this?

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki smut #「mercury writes」 #「kat <3」

[teen6ge]

Seoul Drift ☆ 1

☆ summary: Ever since your mom tied the knot with Seungcheol's dad, you've been drawn to the electrifying world of drift racing. Watching Seungcheol—aka S.COUPS—tear up the streets, cementing his place as one of Seoul's top drifters, filled you with pride. From the moment you witnessed your first race, you've been itching to join in, begging Seungcheol to teach you the ropes. But he's always been dead set against it, wary of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the racing scene. However, everything changes when Wonwoo, a member of a rival crew, enters the picture. Suddenly, the lines between personal and professional blur, and seismic shifts rock both your personal life and Seungcheol's drifting career.

☆ pairing: fem!reader x racer!wonwoo

☆ genre: action. angst. eventual smut. strangers to lovers.

☆ word count: 3,6k

☆ a/n: IT'S HERE EARLY THAN I EXPECTED!!!!!!!! y'all, i have absolutely nothing to add. this is only the beginning and, soon enough, i'll evolve my writing, promise. i just hope you like it just as much as i did! i also would like to thank for the support and interest. next chapter i'll work harder. soon i'll post two important links to get you in the mood (playlist + aesthetic boards). that's it! thank youuuuuuuuuuu

“This is so exciting, isn’t it?” Yeeun's high-pitched voice chirps, breaking through the veil of your anxious thoughts about tonight's race. You turn to face her, mustering a somewhat forced smile as you nod in agreement before looking at Seungcheol again. It's unusual for you to feel this anxious about one of his races, but tonight, there's an unshakeable feeling that something is going to be different. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick with the promise of an electrifying night ahead.

Your stepbrother is already in his car, a white Acura NSX with striking red, gray, and black accents, poised at the starting line while awaiting the final racer to arrive. He exudes confidence, as always, unfazed by the tension of the moment. One hand firmly grips the wheel while the other casually supports his chin, his gaze scanning the crowd before meeting yours. A reassuring smile graces his lips, conveying silent encouragement. You couldn’t help but relax as you smile back, feeling way less nervous than before. 

A short, black-haired man strides confidently toward the first car, an all-black BMW M5, leaning casually over the driver's window to engage in conversation. "Hey, who's that?" Yeeun inquires, pointing in his direction. Your eyes instinctively roll at the sight of him.

"That's Hoshi. His real name is Soonyoung, but everyone knows him as Hoshi. He's part of this massive drift team called Supra NFZ. They're rivals with Cheol's team. Well, basically, they're the only rivals they have," you explain, crossing your arms. Yeeun listens intently, her gaze shifting to Hoshi for a moment before she scoffs. 

"Pigs," Yeeun mutters, and you can't help but giggle at your best friend's words. Honestly, you couldn't agree more.

"Yeah, they are. Plus, I don't know why Seungcheol keeps coming to their events. It's not like they're the only ones around..." you mutter, scanning the area as you observe people placing their bets with another member of the Supra NFZ.

"Maybe because they're our only rivals, as you said before, Y/N," Mingyu's voice chimes in, causing you to turn around. You're met with the flash of his professional camera as he captures a picture of you and Yeeun. Blinking rapidly, you close your eyes immediately after, the brightness burning into your retinas as you whine, slapping your hand against Mingyu's strong arm. He giggles in response. "I'm sorry, I just had to." 

"A'ight, listen up, racers," Hoshi's loud voice cuts through the chatter, instantly quieting down the crowd as all eyes turn to him. "Race starts in 2 minutes, with or without my guest, so get yourselves ready."

Not a minute after Hoshi's announcement, a loud roar of a car getting closer and closer fills the air, causing the crowd to scatter. A black, simple 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse emerges, positioning itself beside Seungcheol's car. When the driver rolls his window down, Hoshi smiles as he opens his arms. “Wonwoo, you made it! A’ight, y’all. This is my guest, Jeon Wonwoo, a.k.a GAM3 BO1. It’s his first time, so let’s make him feel at home, a’ight?”

"Shit… We got a newbie." Mingyu exclaims in excitement, standing right behind you. His eyes scan the crowd, searching for his own team.

The crowd starts to buzz talking about the new competitor, your group included. Seungcheol glares at the dark haired man, smirking cocky as his engine roars impatiently, now turning to the other opponents, Bobby and Zico, who are adorning the same smile as him.

“Racers… Ready?” Hoshi asks, the drivers only speeding up in response, engines roaring loud and repeatedly. Wonwoo's eyes meet your stepbrother's, and for a moment, it seems like Wonwoo looks scared. Seungcheol is a serious man to those who don't know him; it's not uncommon for people to find him intimidating. However, once you get to know him, you understand that he's actually a very patient and caring person. That's why it's common to see the look of despair on his face as Cheol glares at him. You're beginning to feel nervous again as Hoshi stands in front of the now four cars, his arms lifting as the race is about to start. 

Engines purr impatiently as Hoshi begins to count down from 3 to 1, yelling "GO!" As expected, the first car to start moving is Seungcheol's, the last being from the newbie, but not too far behind. People cheer as they rush to the start line, now free of cars, to watch the vehicles until they disappear from view, yourself included. Yeeun cheers as loud as she can for Seungcheol, Mingyu joining her afterwards as soon as he drags Vernon, the newest member of Cheol’s crew, along with him. Your eyes are fixed on your stepbrother's car, the white Acura drifting beautifully as it turns right, almost side by side with Zico’s car, a purple Nissan 180SX S13, closing in on Seungcheol’s lead, which makes you bite your nail due to nervousness. 

As soon as the four cars disappear, the crowd darts to an alley, eager to reach the other side of the block where the finish line awaits. Mingyu is the one to bring you back to reality by grabbing your hand and forcing you to walk with the rest of the group to where the crowd is going.

"Gyu... I don't... I don't think Cheol is winning this one," you manage to mutter, your eyes filled with worry as Mingyu stops in his tracks to face you, his smile disappearing when he notices your serious expression.

"Hey! No, no, no. Don't you dare think he can't win this. Zico might be scary, but he's definitely not better than Coups, okay? Bobby and the other one are not even a competition anymore," he says, grabbing your chin and smiling fondly as he tries to soothe you. "He's got this, okay? And he needs us to be there when he wins yet another race. Let's go, love."

As soon as you reach the finish line, you spot Hoshi watching the race from a TV surrounded by a crowd of people trying to catch a glimpse of the screen as well. A drone camera hovers overhead, controlled by a long black-haired, skinny boy who sits by Hoshi's side. It's the same boy who was collecting people's bets before the race started.

From where you stand, you can see Cheol's car in the lead, with Zico following closely behind while Bobby and Wonwoo are locked in a fierce battle for third place. A wave of relief washes over you at the sight of your brother leading the race, and you notice Vernon, Mingyu, and Yeeun already opening a beer to celebrate the foreseen victory. You smile in relief, grabbing a beer yourself. 

"Ain't no way!" someone yells from the crowd, and your smile drops as you turn to face the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see what seems to be the unbelievable: Wonwoo closing in on Seungcheol. Over the buzz of the crowd, you can hear Hoshi's laugh, and your eyes remain fixed on the TV screen as both cars take a turn to enter the street where you are now.

Everyone moves to the sides of the finish line, their eyes glued to the two cars closing in on each other. Both drivers have already activated their Nitro gas, accelerating with every ounce of power they have in an intense final push to try to win.

Just when everything seems to be shrouded in uncertainty, Wonwoo's car starts to slow down a bit, a clear indication that his Nitro has run out, while Cheol keeps moving faster and faster, crossing the finish line. Drifting his car to mark a circle on the ground before coming to a stop, Seungcheol jumps out of the car, a victorious smile on his face as people rush up to congratulate him.

Yeeun jumps into his arms, showering him with kisses as he embraces her waist, murmuring words of love before letting her go to greet Mingyu and Vernon, both of them gushing about how incredible the race was. You watch him with a proud smile before wrapping him in a tight hug, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

"I'm so proud of you, Cheollie. That was scary, but also pretty amazing!" you say in a low voice, knowing how much he would hate it if everybody listened to your nickname for him. He winks at you before turning to the rest of the competitors, who are now talking to their own crew. Seungcheol walks up to them to congratulate them about the race. You eye the competitors you’re familiar with before your eyes land on Wonwoo, who has a satisfied smile on his face. His car has fog coming out of the hood, and he clearly lost a bunch of money. You couldn't understand how and why he's happy, but you couldn’t help but smile along with him, finding it adorable. 

"S.COUPS… Here's your prize. Congrats, man," Hoshi approaches your brother, his voice carrying a tone of somewhat fake admiration as he hands over the money they've collected before the race. It’s a BUNCH of money, and your brother's smile widens with pride and satisfaction as he accepts the winnings. "A'ight, let's party, people! The night is just beginning," Hoshi announces to the jubilant crowd, igniting a wave of excitement and anticipation for the festivities ahead.

After securely stashing away the prize money, Seungcheol strides confidently toward the new boy, whose skill nearly cost him first place, and crosses his arms, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. GAM3 BO1 turns to face him, his smile unwavering even as he lifts the hood of the car, releasing a billow of smoke. Seungcheol positions himself beside the boy, casting a critical eye over the engine as he inspects the interior, shaking his head in mock disapproval. His gaze returns to the boy. "Whatcha smiling about?" 

"Dude, I almost had you," Wonwoo declares, his tone filled with a mixture of determination and playful challenge, before pointing a finger squarely at your brother, and earning him a round of cheers and applause from the onlookers. Now you’re definitely laughing. Seungcheol grins at his words, looking over his shoulder at his teammates before looking at the boy again. 

“You almost had me? You never had me. You never had your car.” Cheol's words ring out, cutting through the air with a mix of humor and challenge that sends the surrounding crowd into fits of laughter. The infectious sound fills the air, causing your lips to press together to contain your own amusement. Despite the laughter, a sense of sympathy washes over you for the boy. Wonwoo’s eyes shift between the crowd and your brother, his smile unwavering.

Your brother strides confidently around the car as he continues, his voice carrying a playful edge. “Granny-shifting. Not double-clutching, like you should. You’re lucky that 100-shot of NOS didn’t blow the welds on the intake.” His words are met with a chorus of cheers in agreement, the crowd clearly enjoying the banter between the two racers. “Almost had me?” Seungcheol turns to the people behind him, their expressions a mix of disbelief and awe at the exchange that just unfolded. Without a word, they gesture for Wonwoo to leave, their reactions a testament to the intensity of the moment. The boy is still unaffected by any words or actions. 

“Ask any racer. Any real racer.” Cheol's voice booms with confidence as he returns to stand in front of Wonwoo, his demeanor commanding the attention of everyone around him. Mingyu and Vernon move closer to support their friend, their presence adding to the sense of camaraderie and unity among them. You watch the scene unfold with a grin on your lips, observing how your brother exudes an undeniable sense of cockiness when it comes to racing.

“It doesn’t matter if you win by an inch or a mile. Winning’s winning.” His words resonate deeply, echoing through the crowd and eliciting cheers and applause from all around. Some people even join in, yelling "yeah" to express their agreement with your brother's sentiment. 

And it was true. 

Although Wonwoo came close to overtaking Cheol's lead, he ultimately didn't win, and that's what matters in the world of street racing. Your brother turns around to embrace his girlfriend before making his way through the jubilant crowd, joining in the festivities as someone's car blasts music at full volume.

Meanwhile, you remain in the same spot, a sympathetic smile on your lips as you observe Wonwoo, who appears to be crestfallen as his car continues to emit smoke.

"You really didn't prepare for the race as you needed to, did you?" you remark, your tone a mixture of empathy and curiosity as you address the disappointed racer. He turns around as soon as he hears your voice, and sighs as he shakes his head.

“Apparently, I did not…” he chuckles, his expression a mix of resignation and amusement as he acknowledges his oversight. You find yourself smiling in response, drawn to his easygoing demeanor as you approach him, taking a closer look at his car.

“But he’s right. S.COUPS knows more about this than I do, clearly,” he continues, his tone tinged with admiration as he acknowledges your brother's expertise. “I thought only having Nitro gas was enough.”

You smile sympathetically, nodding in understanding as you lean against his car, your eyes scanning the crowd in search of your brother, who is now engrossed in the festivities with his teammates and Yeeun. 

“He’s not a bad guy, you know? He’s been in this game for a long time, so he knows and loves what he’s doing now. But he was just like you at first,” you remark, your gaze returning to Wonwoo, who mirrors your posture as he leans against his car beside you. “NOS isn’t enough, and whether you like it or not, drifting is also an important skill to master.” 

"Yeah... Do you race too?" His curiosity is genuine, evident in the way he speaks, as if he's genuinely interested in your involvement in the racing scene. You chuckle softly and shake your head, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes.

"No! No, I... He would never let me," you sigh, your gaze drifting towards your brother once again. The familiar tension between you two surfaces once more in your mind. It's a recurring cycle - you ask him to teach you, he refuses, and before you know it, you're locked in another argument. "He hardly changes his mind."

Wonwoo hums in understanding, his gaze following yours to your brother, and a chuckle escapes him, prompting you to look at him with a slight frown, though a smile plays at the corners of your lips. "What?"

He shakes his head before returning his gaze to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "I was going to ask if he's your boyfriend or something, but he clearly isn't. He's almost swallowing the blonde girl he's with," he remarks, his observation laced with humor. You laugh in response, shaking your head at the amusing misconception.

"Oh, God, no! No, he's my brother. Well... Stepbrother," you clarify, offering a small smile as you dispel any misconceptions about your relationship with Seungcheol. Wonwoo hums again, looking at his own hands while toying with his fingers before speaking.

“So… It’s okay to ask for your number then, right?” he smiles at you, his ears slightly pink, a sign of his nervousness. You feel your cheeks burning as you smile shyly and nod in response to his question. “Yeah? What about a date?”

“Yes, Wonwoo! I’ll go out with you,” you say, unable to hide your excitement. His gaze is endearing as he looks at you, his eyes moving between your lips and eyes, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Good. I promise it won’t be as embarrassing as today… At least not for me," he adds with a chuckle, and you both share a laugh, the tension easing between you.

After exchanging phone numbers, Seungcheol calls out for you, indicating it's time to go. Reluctantly, you begin to make your way toward him, though part of you wishes you could stay longer with Wonwoo. You're unsure if he'll actually ask you on a date, but the possibility leaves you feeling anxious and excited.

After a few moments, Wonwoo makes his way back to Hoshi’s garage, where the rest of the Supra NFZ crew has gathered, minus DK himself. Despite being a part of the team for two years now, Wonwoo has never actually met DK in person; he only knows of him through reputation. Stepping out of his car once it's parked, Wonwoo strides toward the table where the other members are gathered, their attention absorbed by a lively card game as they await his arrival. The first to acknowledge Wonwoo’s presence is Dino, the youngest member of the team.

“Oh, hyung! You’re back!” Dino exclaims, his cards dropping onto the table as the rest of the crew swivel around to greet Wonwoo. Rising from his seat, Hoshi gestures for Wonwoo to join them at the table.

“A’ight… Now that all of us are here, at least the Seoul division, let’s first congratulate Wonwoo for his performance tonight,” Hoshi announces, his applause prompting the other members to follow suit with cheers of approval. Wonwoo accepts the praise with a smug smile before settling into his seat at the table.

“I told you I could do it… Choi Seungcheol really thinks he won because poor Wonwoo didn’t know his way around,” he jests, his eyes rolling playfully as laughter ripples through the group. Rising to his feet, Dino takes it upon himself to retrieve beers for everyone before resuming his place at the table. After taking a sip of his drink, Wonwoo sinks back into his chair, the tension in his muscles easing slightly. “So… What’s next?” he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Hm… Right.” Hoshi sets down his beer, reaching for his notebook and flipping it around to display the screen to the assembled members. The file on the screen contains scant details about Seungcheol’s crew. “Here’s the plan. We need you to gather intel. Gain their trust, blend in, and become one of them. DK’s orders.” Hoshi outlines, his gaze locking with Wonwoo’s as he emphasizes the importance of discretion. Wonwoo nods in solemn understanding, taking another sip of his beer as he absorbs the gravity of the task ahead. “You still need to maintain your cover by using that beat-up car as your alibi to coax S.COUPS into helping and teaching you a thing or two. You cannot afford to be discovered. Understood?”

“Got it.” Wonwoo’s response is resolute and brimming with confidence, his determination evident in his tone. Hoshi shifts his attention to the rest of the group, clicking a button to transition to the next slide on his presentation.

“Great… Now, we know Seungcheol has a stepsister… I believe the best person to try to use her would be-”

“I can do it.” Wonwoo’s assertive voice slices through Hoshi’s sentence, prompting the short-haired man to give him a thorough once-over. “I actually spoke to her today and even got her number. She thinks I’m taking her out on a date later, so… Let me handle the Chois.”

“She isn’t a Choi. Not like Seungcheol,” Hoshi murmurs, his voice carrying a note of skepticism as he closes the notebook and straightens his posture. “I’m not entirely convinced you can handle her…” His arms cross over his chest as he subjects Wonwoo to another round of scrutiny, his gaze flickering to the other members of the team, gauging their reactions before finally shrugging. “But fine. If she gave you her number, there’s potential. But no romantic feelings, Jeon. Don’t make me regret it.”

As he checks his watch and rises to his feet, Hoshi lets out a muttered curse, hastily finishing the remnants of his beer and scrambling to gather his belongings. “Now scram. It’s late and y’all still need to work tomorrow. Dino, tomorrow you’re training Jun. I need him ready by the end of the month; Metaworld is happening, and we need him since Wonwoo will likely be racing for Seungcheol’s team.”

Dino and Jun exchange nods of understanding, echoing a simultaneous “yes, sir.” “Great! Hao, you’re in charge of DK’s new car’s design. He wants something along the lines of green neon fire. Don’t ask me what or how; just get it done and send it to me when it's ready.” Snatching up his car keys, Hoshi beckons to Seungkwan, and the two of them stride purposefully toward Hoshi’s car, an eye-catching orange 2020 Dodge Charger Hellcat Redeye. “Wonwoo, you’re heading to S.COUPS’s restaurant tomorrow. I’ll text you the address. Don’t forget about it.”

And with that, the rest of the crew departed the garage, their engines roaring to life as they dispersed into the night. Wonwoo offers a casual wave goodbye to his teammates as they peel out in their respective vehicles, leaving him alone in the empty space. Retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, he quickly shoots you a text, a simple confirmation that he indeed had your number.

"No romantic feelings," he mutters to himself with a scoff, dismissing the notion as he locks his phone. But deep down, a seed of doubt lingers. Maybe he didn’t realize it yet, but the wheels of fate had already been set in motion.

He would find himself drawn to you, just as you would to him.

☆ taglist: @kwonshiho - @aaa-sia - @tootheiass - @vlbi - @soonyoonswoo - @bekah931215 - @i-lovegojo

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo smut #kpop scenarios #svt scenarios #scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #au smut #svt angst #smut #seoul drift

[unholycringebirther]

john doe with a gn partner with bad period pains?

JOHN DOE X GN!READER [PERIOD HC’S/SCENARIO]

SUMMARY: You’ve got some mighty bad period pain, but both luckily and unfortunely, John’s right there to help!

WARNINGS: PERIOD PAINS, MINORS DNI

WORDS: 1,266

A/N: Friendly reminder from a real-life enby, periods aren’t just for women! I get a period, and I am a very proud Bigender individual, Trans-men get periods, and those are %100 without a singe doubt, real men, if you still think otherwise, get the fuck off my blog. :)

HC’S:

 -Oh, he’d be so very worried about you! Especially if you, rightfully of course, are loud about your displeasure, he’d be hovering anxiously over you for hours.

-He’ll get anything you want him too, although he really has no idea what he’s doing, and will likely get most orders wrong, you’ll be seeing a example of that soon.

-Doesn’t like leaving you alone, his separation anxiety is already horrible on a good day, but when you’re in pain? In discomfort? He’ll cling to you like the world is ending, and honestly, if you’re in pain it does feel like his world is ending.

-He’ll give you lots of snuggles and whatnot, he’s usually quite touchy but he’ll only worsen during this week, especially if you’re cramping, but since he smells wet and raw you’re enjoyment could vary.

-You’ll notice his hair will move to try and smother you while he cuddles you, almost like it’s alive..

-Since he can’t cook, you could convince him to let you go for just a few minutes to go grab some takeout, he’ll be reluctant to leave but if you’re starving, well that comes first, but expect him to bring home something extremely strange.

-He talks a lot, but with while he frets and panics over you, it’ll become almost babbling, sometimes completely incoherent as he violently worries about you.

-His body is weirdly warm and cold at the same time, so if you’re looking to warm up or cool off, he might be able to help.

-If you’re like me and sweat a lot during cramps, don’t expect the sheets to be changed, he absolutely loves how your natural odour smells, though he’ll (very begrudgingly) change and wash them for you if you have a leak-through.

SCENARIO:

You moaned, clutching the heat pack to your uterus as the warmth of it starts to dwindle.

Its a tight pain, your uterus tensing achingly as you hunch more into yourself, sweat and tears of excretion building on your skin and in your eyes as a sharp stab shoots throughout your stomach.

Sounds of pain escape your mouth despite yourself, and you try to keep it quiet since your boyfriend was asleep in the other room.

It was a rare occurrence, you figured out as much when you awoke every morning to his comically large eyes staring down at you, small hearts in those even smaller pupils.

It was the only time you got some relief from his presence, not that you didn’t love your eldritch lover, but with his constant clinging and presence pressed against you, stemmed from his separation anxiety, it could get a little suffocating at times, something John didn’t seem to really understand.

He only went to sleep after you assured him you weren’t going anywhere, and that everything was fine, and his grip was tight when you tried to shimmy out of it.

It was true— everything started out fine, your stomach felt a little off but you figured it was because you hadn’t eaten yet, but shortly after you felt the tell-tale feeling of a wetness between your legs.

It lead you to laying in your bed, clutching your now empty stomach as you’d already thrown up the contents, your warm bed helped soothe your tensed muscles where the heat pack couldn’t, and your arm thrown over your eyes protected them from the light streaming through the window.

It was time to roll over onto your back, your right side getting sore where you rested all your weight on it, its been a cycle of side to back to other side for about half an hour now.

With a grunt of effort, you adjusted onto your back, the light trying to burn your retinas now removed, you remove your arm from your eyes.

You jerked violently when you met familiar wide eyes, staring down at you in concern, and if the unblinking gaze wasn’t enough to convince you of his worry, in your peripheral vision his shirt had shifted to a frowning face, how’d he even get in without you noticing?!

It was hard to see the frowning shirt as he was leaned in so close, his face only inches from yours, and because of that, you’re glad when he kept his voice down when he spoke, as a shout might’ve burst you eardrums.

“Dearest, you look so sad! Did somebody upset you?! Tell me who, tell me tell me tell me tellmetellmetellmtell—“ 

He was gripping your shoulders, panic and upset at your clear discomfort, the frown on his shirt melting downwards in the midst of his stress.

“John, calm down.” Your voice was a little gravelly even to your own ears, rumbling out more than you’re use too, and its only once you move to grip his shoulders does he stop babbling, “Its just period cramps, don’t—!“

You inhaled through your nose, you curl into yourself slightly when your stomach almost lurches at the stab in your uterus, and a small wail leaves your mouth.

You can feel John scramble, clutching desperately at you as his anxiety spiked, he didn’t like seeing you in any pain, and was always quick to remove anything or anyone causing you any sort of sting.

“Love!“ his voice grew in volume, and the air around you shifted, dropping in temperature with his worry, you tried to pull yourself together the best you could, the heat pack you’re clutching now ice-cold like the room around you.

“Fuuu.. I’m alright, ergh,” your noises didnt convince him, and his four fingers are still holding onto your shoulders tightly, he’s even more tense than you are, “Can you just, ugh, heat up my pack? It’ll help.”

He snatches up the rice-filled bag you hand to him, eager to help, though you can see how reluctant he was to leave you, rushing off to the kitchen.

You relaxed back into the bed, you and the sheets surrounding you probably stunk of sweat, but fear not, you knew for a fact you’d find John burying his nose in them later, proclaiming how good you smelt, you didn’t know which was more embarrassing.

John might be clingy, reliant and a little odd, but he truly did care, always trying his hardest to please you and make you happy despite not understanding that most people don’t want to be gifted organs, he tried.

You loved him, and he made it quite obvious how much he loved you back, his sharp yellow teeth always bared in a grin whenever his large eyes were on you, and they were always on you, whether you realise it or not.

And you kept that swirling in the back of your mind when the sound of the fire alarms blare, your stomach cramps painfully when you jump up from bed.

Running through the door, you hunched over and kept your arm around your uterus as you made way to the kitchen, desperately searching for your boyfriend.

And there he was, unharmed thankfully, leaned over a sizzling frying pan, your heat pack catching fire where it rested against the smouldering metal, the smoke wafting straight into the alarm on the roof.

“Dearest!” He cried while he turned to you, ignoring the newly-fiery heat pack cooking like an egg, “What’re you doing up?—“

He cut himself off with a loud, feral hiss when water shot down from the roof, he launched for any sort of cover from the offensive roof rain while making deranged cat noises.

Maybe next time, you should just suck it up and get it yourself, less you want your house burnt down.

#john doe x reader #john doe x you #john doe game #john doe horror game #john doe

[vendoramachine]

open robe pt. 1

velvet x fem pop star reader

i think we were absolutely robbed from seeing vel in a robe, so eat up 💜

notes : fluff, mild/light cussing

the mornings after shows are always the worst. your throat is always sore from singing all night, your muscles are tired from the intense choreographies, and overall, you just feel like crap. in the moment, everything is great. you hit that high note, you landed that backflip, and your fans love you. post-concert exhaustion is a musician’s equivalent to a hangover.

i groaned as i tossed around in my bed, staring up at my ceiling like i could see the heavens. last night was insane. i was the opening act for velvet and veneer, my two favorite people on the face of this planet. weakly, i picked up my phone from my nightstand. the screen lit up, it’s brightness burning my retina.

veneer and i were best friends during our childhood, so when the two announced that their plans to start their careers in music, i was a tad doubtful. those two couldn’t hold a note if a gun was being held to their foreheads. i admit, their success was a little suspicious, but i just figured that their voices had matured and gotten better over time. in fact, they inspired me to become an artist as well, and they helped promote me and my music.

opening up my messages app, i texted the person who was on my mind 24/7; velvet.

“hey vel 🤗 we did so good last night!!!! i had so much fun, thanks for letting me open up for u and veneer 💟” my thumb clicked the send button. it was 8 a.m. and i didn’t expect velvet nor veneer to be awake, especially not after that hell of a night. i sat up in my bed, attempting to stretch the exhaustion from my muscles and rub the tiredness from my eyelids.

every fiber of my being told me to take it easy today, but where’s the fun in that if i’m not with my girlfriend? resting in bed all day without her just makes me feel like a lonely person. i forced myself out of bed to brush my teeth, take a shower, and eat breakfast.

as i finished chewing the last bite of my waffles with damp hair and a soft, velvety robe wrapped around me, it was now 11 a.m. i checked my phone, and still no response.

“wow, that girl must be knocked out.” i chuckled to myself, opening veneer’s contact and calling him. it took a few rings for him to pick up, but something about his hoarse voice and dim room told me that i had accidentally woken him up.

“what do you want?” he huffed, sass in his strained voice.

“good morning to you too, veneer.” i scoffed, making him roll his eyes and smirk playfully.

“okay, okay, sorry. good morning, y/n, what could you possibly need that was worth waking me up?”

“rude, but i was wondering if vel-“

“can’t you just call her instead?” veneer cut me off. jeez, where are this guy’s manners?

“i don’t want to wake her up. also, if i did wake her up, she’d be mad at me all day; don’t you know anything about your sister?”

“oh, whatever. come over, otherwise velvet and i will literally sleep all day. we need your motivation to get up.” say less. i hung up before he could speak another word.

time skip cause i’m lazy lmfao 💁‍♀️

i rang the doorbell to their giant house, and veneer talked to me through the doorbell.

“the door’s open, girl.” i shrugged and walked right in. wandering through the halls, i saw my girlfriend’s brother sitting at the kitchen table with his robe.

“hey, i’m on the phone with ritz.” veneer perked up, blushing angrily once he noticed that i was joking. hilarious. i sat down on the chair beside him, noticing the absence of my girlfriend’s presence.

“i don’t understand why you don’t just ask him out already.” i stole a grape from his breakfast plate.

“easy for you to say, my sister made the first move on you. i’m just waiting for him to do the same. if he wants to, he will.”

“please, that’s only because velvet is way too prideful to let someone make the first move on her. she would literally rather die. in your case, however, both you and ritz are shy, embarrassing messes. you just lack your sister’s confidence, ven.” i teased, veneer hit my arm with the back of his hand. his pathetic attempts to hide his smile just made the situation funnier.

“you’re so annoying. i don’t get how vel tolerates you.” he forcefully refused to let the muscles on his cheeks upturn into a smile.

“you couldn’t even bother to change before coming over here?” veneer attempted to switch the subject, no longer wanting to talk about his pretty-much boyfriend.

“hey, you can’t come at my robe when you’re wearing one too.” the sound of a door opening behind us made my face light up.

“hanging out without me? how rude.” velvet commented. my head whipped around. her hair was messy, and her robe was wide open, the strings hanging loosely by her sides. she wore nothing underneath her robe besides her shorts and a bra. oh. my. god.

#fanfic #fanfiction #trolls 3 #trolls band together #velvet trolls #velvet and veneer #fem reader #x female reader #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq

[heyiwrotesomethings]

I had this idea soely bc of Wednesday on netflix: Mitsuri x a rather unexpressionable, cold, and blunt reader who ended up being roomates in a Modern AU. Kinda like enemies to friends to lovers because of how unintentionally rude the reader is to Mitsuri after finding out she had to room with a touchy and bubbly muti-colored haired woman. And maybe they fall in-love with eachother when reader defends Mitsuri from a rather rude student with their harsh words?

Woe-oh the Misery

Mitsuri Kanroji x She/Her Reader Modern AU

A/N: I really liked this idea. I finished Wednesday a couple weeks ago and I thought it was pretty good! Unfortunately I couldn’t get a lot of enemies storyline in here because I’m trying to make my stuff not so long. Hope it’s still acceptable, thanks for reading! Word Count: 4,864

Mitsuri had been so excited for the beginning of the new semester. A fresh start at a new university, new room, new roommate. She could hardly wait! She even arrived a few days early to settle in and decorate her side of the room.

She fluffed her pillows and straightened her mountain of fuzzy blankets and plushies. Her roommate could be coming at any time today! Mitsuri could honestly say she knew nothing about the girl other than her name. She had tried looking her up on all the usual social media sites to try to connect before the semester began, but her search yielded absolutely nothing.

That didn’t bother Mitsuri too much. She found it admirable that her future roomie didn’t have a social media presence. Sometimes Mitsuri wanted to throw her phone out of the window, but then how else would she see all the cute and colorful things she liked? Gain affirmations and praise for her art and cute outfits? It was just too bad that there were also mean-spirited people that came around to try to negate those kind words.

Mitsuri had just straightened one of her frilly heart pillows for the twelfth time when she heard a thump and the door begin to rattle. She was so excited, Mitsuri didn’t know what to do with herself. All of how she had planned to introduce herself escaped her brain entirely.

The door swung out and Mitsuri nearly went out with it, a bright smile accompanying her glittering eyes. She braced herself against the doorframe with both hands on either side, leaning out into the hall, she came face to face with her new roommate.

“Howdy, roomie!” She nearly squealed, wiggling excitedly.

Her roommate’s stunned silence was enough to give Mitsuri a moment of pause and actually take in her appearance.

She was… very monochrome.

“You are exceedingly colorful, simply looking at you burns. I think you may permanently damage my retinas. Excuse me.”

Mitsuri blinked, then slowly stepped aside to allow her roommate, (Y/n), inside. She watched (Y/n) survey her side of the room, biting her inner lip when when she saw the muted look of displeasure that came over (Y/n)’s otherwise emotionless face.

“And decor to match… horrifying.”

“Do you need help bringing your stuff in? I’m pretty strong.” Mitsuri flexed jokingly, but (Y/n) looked unamused.

“Touch my belongings without my explicit consent, and you may have your muscles peeled from your bones. Some of these artifacts are quite temperamental.”

Mitsuri wisely hung back after that comment and instead watched from the sidelines as (Y/n) brought her belongings in. Everything (Y/n) owned seemed to be black, white, or some shade of grey.

“Looks like I’m not the only matching one.” Mitsuri smiled shyly. This was a bit of an uncomfortable introduction, but maybe (Y/n) was just having a bad day, or she was anxious around new people. Mitsuri could understand that. They could still be friends!

“Yes. I prefer these as they are not a total assault on the senses.” (Y/n) replied bluntly. “Perhaps I should invest in two curtains. One to block the sun from that oversized window, and another to obscure your side of the room.”

Okay, laying it on a little too thick there…

Mitsuri shook her head. She was going to make this work! She stepped forward, arms outstretched,

“Well, I’m glad you’re here! Welcome new bestie!”

Before Mitsuri could completely envelop (Y/n) in her arms, the monochromatic girl took a step back, her fingertips pressed high against Mitsuri’s chest to keep her from following through.

“Hug me, and that may just be the last thing you ever do.” She warned in a soft monotone. Almost like a buzzing of an angry bee.

“O-oh… kay.”

Mitsuri slowly lowered her arms and then (Y/n) lowered her own hand in turn.

“I must unpack the rest of my belongings. I think I will start with mounting my katana collection on the wall. If you are as loud as the colors you wear, we may have,” she half-unsheathed a sword to check the sharpness of the blade, “to correct that.” She then fully sheathed the katana again with a click that made Mitsuri flinch.

Mitsuri was almost certain weapons like that were not allowed on campus, but she didn’t feel safe enough at the moment to tell (Y/n) that.

“I’ll just, um, leave you to it then…” Mitsuri fiddled with the end of one of her braids. Maybe just one more attempt at being friendly? “Would you like to get dinner at the cafeteria together after?”

Mitsuri did not receive a reply. Instead (Y/n) kept her back to her as she began nailing a rack to the wall beside her bed. Mitsuri knew that was also against the university’s dorm policies, but she doubted (Y/n) cared.

“Okay… good talk.” Mitsuri decided to grab her ID and her phone to go eat dinner early before the dining room got too crowded. Maybe (Y/n) would be a little more relaxed once she got all settled in. She stopped just before closing the door, keeping her head inside the room, but giving herself enough cover that she could quickly dodge any pointy projectiles.

“See you later, roomie.”

“Begone already, harbinger of glitter and pink. Do not tease me with your impending departure so.” (Y/n) drawled, giving Mitsuri a dismissive flick of her hammer before continuing on.

Mitsuri closed the door and briefly rested her back against the wood with a disappointed frown.

This new chapter in her life was already not quite going how she had imagined it would. She could only hope (Y/n) would come around eventually, but for now… Mitsuri clenched her fists, determined. For now, she would do her best to really put herself out there and make some friends.

***

And Mitsuri did manage to make a few friends over those first couple weeks. She met Kyoujirou at a free Zumba lesson and they got along very quickly, soon becoming workout buddies. They would meet up for free class events at least three times a week, always texting photos of flyers they would find around campus. And of course they always had to go out to eat afterwards, so they were always looking for the poor college student deals for meals as well. The community learned to fear those two when they would come in together.

Then she had met Shinobu in the bookstore. Shinobu had helped her figure out how to find her books and they realized that they shared a class and both were planning on joining the bee keeping club. Though Shinobu was interested in the science of entomology, Mitsuri shyly admitted that though the bees were cute, she was more interested in the honey they’d get to bring home. Shinobu chuckled, assuring her that it was just as valid a reason as any.

She met Obanai during a late breakfast one day. Since the cafeteria was crowded, she asked to sit with him. He reminded her a bit of her roommate in monochrome, only he at least made attempts to be friendly despite his obvious discomfort. Mitsuri had been embarrassed for not realizing it sooner, but he had also been the one to help her navigate through the arts building when she was one more wrong turn away from openly sobbing. He had helped her find her classroom before she could be late.

Now if only she could get along with her gloomy and macabre roommate. Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t get along. That would imply more antagonism and contempt than there really was. (Y/n) could be blunt and rude at times, but she was mostly quiet and respectful of Mitsuri’s space.

Except for that one time Mitsuri had been accidentally listening to K-pop without headphones. She thought that (Y/n) was genuinely going to kill her there for a second, but she simply glared at her (more intensely than usual) from her side of the room. That could have been because of her aversion to color, but Mitsuri wasn’t entirely convinced that (Y/n) wasn’t a vampire and could only come to her side of the room if invited. But honestly, that possibility didn’t scare Mitsuri, what did disturb her was that (Y/n) didn’t like Twice. Who didn’t like Twice!? Regardless, Mitsuri believed (Y/n) must be nice under all of her, um, spookinesses.

Even though weeks had passed since the semester had started, Mitsuri couldn’t find it in herself to give up on becoming friends with (Y/n). She made sure to give her a wide berth, but she still tried to forge a connection between them.

“I think it’s really cool how good you are with swords. Do you think you could teach me something about them sometime?”

“I haven’t the time nor desire.”

“I heard there is a scary movie marathon on the student-run television station this weekend. It’s not really my thing… but I’d watch it with you if you want!”

“The fake gore disappoints me.”

Attempt after attempt, olive branch after olive branch, but (Y/n) didn’t bite. Well, she did threaten to on the couple of occasions that Mitsuri forgot that (Y/n) didn’t like to be touched. She just couldn’t help it sometimes! Not when (Y/n) looked so much like a grumpy kitten!

Her friends had told her on numerous occasions to give up on her already, but that just didn’t sit right with Mitsuri. She continued to talk to (Y/n), even if she said nothing in return, and she kept inviting her to tag along to various parties and events until one day, she was actually taken up on an offer.

“Hey, I need to find old stuff to make a sculpture for a class. There is this creepy antique shop nearby that I’m not too excited to visit for supplies, but I think you’d like it so will you come with me? Make sure I don’t get cursed?” She half joked.

(Y/n) peered at Mitsuri over the worn book she had been reading, and Mitsuri was surprised when (Y/n) closed the tome and set it aside.

“It’s been awhile since I had a good curse thrust upon me. I can’t have any wasted on you, so I suppose I’ll accompany you just this once.”

“Really?” Mitsuri beamed.

“Dim yourself before I change my mind.” (Y/n) warned, shielding her eyes as if she were looking at the sun.

“Sorry!” Mitsuri shrunk back a bit, chagrined.

“Don’t apologize. Just,” (Y/n) sighed softer than a passing breeze. She presented her open hand and slowly lowered her fingers to her thumb, “You tend to talk loudly. It rattles my brain and although not entirely unpleasant, it makes people stare at you more than they already do, and when people stare, I find myself wishing to gouge out their eyes. Regretfully, going to prison would interfere with my four year plan timeline. You understand.”

“Yeah,” Mitsuri smiled worriedly, a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek, “totally.”

“Lead the way then.”

(Y/n) followed Mitsuri down the sidewalk, listening to her blabber away about her classes, bee keeping and the like. Her voice fluctuated in volume when she got particularly excited or remembered a ‘juicy’ detail pertaining to whatever story she chose fit to retell. If it bothered (Y/n), she kept it to herself, but if anyone so much as looked at Mitsuri the wrong way, (Y/n) sent deathwaves in their direction.

Ordinarily, (Y/n) couldn’t care less about the people around her. In fact, the less she had to interact with them the better. Mitsuri was becoming a startling outlier however. Yes, she had vibrant hair and an even brighter personality, but she was also sickeningly sweet and wore her heart on her sleeve.

A terrible place to wear one’s heart. Too easily accessible. Too easy to be stabbed, broiled, eaten… that was why (Y/n) had taken it upon herself to keep Mitsuri from harm, as best as she could anyhow. She still wasn’t exactly used to the whole, ugh, ‘caring’ thing and to be honest she was disgusted with herself for even making an effort.

But Mitsuri’s warmth was something that needed to be protected.

It is the duty of the strong to protect the sweet.

Well, Mitsuri was plenty strong on her own, but for her to use that strength in a fit of violence was apparently inconceivable to the girl. Which was a shame because (Y/n) had determined that it would be quite possible for Mitsuri to crush a human skull between her thighs. Why had she determined such a thing? Anyone dare ask and they would find themselves mummifying in a bog.

“Oh my gosh, it’s even creepier up close!” Mitsuri whined, causing (Y/n) to tune back in to the world around her.

The antique shop looked as if it was an antique itself. It almost didn’t look like it should be in business at all, but the dusty open sign on the door suggested otherwise.

“Are we going in, or not?”

“Can, could you go first maybe? Please?”

(Y/n) sighed inwardly before stepping forward. A little bell chimed the moment she opened the door. She walked inside with Mitsuri following close behind.

“Good afternoon!” The elderly woman, (because of course an elderly woman would be running the antique shop) called. “If you have any questions, just yell. Hearings’ not what it used to be.”

“Thank you!” Mitsuri smiled shyly before tentatively moving about the dusty store.

(Y/n) followed, reguarding the items they passed with muted interest. Most of it looked like trash to her, but there were some promising looking items.

Mitsuri suddenly yelped and staggered back, tripping on an uneven floorboard. She braced herself to hit the ground, but instead she was caught. Looking up, she found (Y/n)’s unamused eyes boring into her. She stared back, frozen.

“I will drop you if you continue to make no effort to right yourself.” (Y/n) warned in a soft tone that sent a shiver up and down Mitsuri’s spine.

For a moment, Mitsuri assumed it was a response based in fear, but her face felt too warm for that to be the case. She quickly apologized and stood on her own once more.

“What disturbed you?” (Y/n) asked, peering behind Mitsuri.

“Look there, isn’t that so sad?”

Mitsuri pointed at a nearby shelf of several taxidermied creatures depicting an array of puns. It made (Y/n) shudder. Puns.

“How gauche.”

“The sooner we’re done here, the better.”

So they continued on through the creepy little shop of curiosities. Mitsuri did find some things for her sculpture, more than she could carry. She was surprised when (Y/n) took the pile from her arms.

“I will bring these to the front. Don’t touch anything until I get back.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

Mitsuri watched (Y/n) go, then went back to perusing the shelves. She went deeper and deeper into the bowels of the shop. It had looked so much smaller on the outside…

“Another creepy death display… what is with this place?” Mitsuri shivered.

In the dark corner of the store, where the air was noticeably thicker, lights the dimmest they had been yet, there was a glass display case with various bugs pinned inside. It was unsettling, and something that Mitsuri would ordinarily quickly scuttle around, but she continued to look, even daring to step closer.

“Maybe this would be something Shinobu would be interested in.” She reached her hand out for the display, only to have her hand snatched away in the grasp of another, nearly making her scream until she registered the familiar black nail polish.

“Was I not clear when I told you not to touch anything while I was gone?” (Y/n) asked, pulling Mitsuri further away from the display.

“Y-yeah, but—“

(Y/n) let go off Mitsuri’s hand, almost drawing a whine from her due to the loss. She moved to stand to the side of the display and began listing off what she saw.

“White moths, black butterflies, scarabs, notably dead,” she turned to Mitsuri briefly, “an important distinction, I assure you. A bee pinned to a sliver of rotted wood, locusts, and most on the nose, a deathwatch beetle. Do you know what these represent, Kanroji?”

“Um…” Mitsuri’s face couldn’t have been warmer. She felt like she had just been cold called in class.

“They are omens of misfortune and death.”

The warmth Mitsuri had felt upon (Y/n)’s touch plummeted to freezing. She went from pink to pale in a matter of seconds.

“You asked me to make sure you didn’t get cursed on this outing. Do not act in a way that will cause me to fail.” (Y/n) glared. She took hold of Mitsuri’s wrist and looped her around the bend in the shelves, away from the dark corner.

It was a little harder to shake off the folklore lesson and continue on as they had been. But Mitsuri did find a few more things she wanted to use. She did however, cautiously point at items from then on. Her eyes big and a tad fearful as she waited for (Y/n)’s verdict.

When they finally returned to the front of the store, the old woman looked vaguely annoyed and was not nearly as pleasant as she had seemed when they first entered. She roughly bagged the purchases and sent them on their way.

“What was her problem?” Mitsuri frowned upon the door’s exiting chime.

“Probably upset that she’s failed to live her “Needful Things” fantasy. I’ll have to admit, she did have a few items I would have liked for my own collection. Perhaps I’ll return on a later date.”

“Please don’t.” Mitsuri hugged (Y/n)’s arm to her, “Let’s promise to forget that place exists, please?”

(Y/n) looked down at her arm and Mitsuri’s encircling it. A disgusting fluttering erupted in her chest and she stiffly pulled herself away. The chill that enveloped her arm at Mitsuri’s absence was like that of her family crypt but not at all pleasant.

“Fine.” She tersely agreed. Why would she agree to any of Mitsuri’s silly requests? She felt weird. And again, not a good weird.

“Thank goodness.” Mitsuri sighed in relief, “Now let’s get away from here.”

(Y/n) leaves with Mitsuri, thinking that old hag might have snuck a curse upon her somehow.

***

“I can’t believe my art will actually get to be in the exhibition!” Mitsuri excitedly told Obanai. “Freshman pieces are almost never chosen!”

“I’m happy for you Mitsuri. I know you’ve worked hard on it and I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been so secretive about for the past month.” Obanai said, a hint of a teasing tone coming through while his gaze turned to his feet as they walked.

He knew everything about painting except for the painting itself. Mitsuri had often vented and fretted over the work in progress to Shinobu, Kyoujirou and Obanai himself, but refused to actually describe what she was trying to depict. Something that drove Shinobu crazy in particular.

“I couldn’t just tell you what I was doing, that would ruin the impact of actually seeing it in person!” Mitsuri defended.

Her mind had been occupied by a certain ooky kooky roommate ever since a certain trip to a-place-never-to-be-brought-up-again. Those thoughts had bled into her most current project. Understandably, just the thought of telling anyone that she thought of her roommate so much that her painting was inspired by her made Mitsuri flustered. No one should be able to come to that conclusion from simply looking at it at least.

Speak of the devil, a dark figure caught Mitsuri’s eye against the colorful backdrop of fallen leaves and she lit up. It was so rare to see her roommate actually out and about, and in broad daylight no less!

Fueled by the excitement of her good news, she ran to catch up with (Y/n), pleasantly surprised that (Y/n) had stopped and turned around when she called out to her.

“(Y/n)!” Mitsuri couldn’t stop herself from grasping (Y/n)‘s cold hand in hers, “My professor asked to show one of my paintings at the next student gallery coming up. I would really appreciate it if you’d stopped by to take a look. Will you come?”

(Y/n) deliberately pulled her hand away from Mitsuri’s and gave her the same blank stare she always did, though not nearly as piercing as the girl would have liked, “I prefer the work of tortured artists. Ask me again when you are wrought with delirium and plagued with visions of death.” She said before walking away.

Mitsuri had to admit, that one hurt. She thought she was finally getting passed (Y/n)’s frigid crypt doors.

“She’s rude.” Obanai clicked his tongue, glaring at (Y/n)’s back as she walked away, “I don’t know why you even bother with her. Kochou is right, if she acts like this, it’s no wonder why she doesn’t have any friends.”

Except she didn’t feel cold to Mitsuri, she never really did. Even when she glared at Mitsuri, there was a certain softness there, hiding just below the surface. Beneath the thorns, threats, fire and brimstone, (Y/n) had a good heart. Mitsuri just knew.

It was disappointing that (Y/n) didn’t want to go to her art show, but Mitsuri understood. She knew (Y/n) well enough that a bright room filled with people was not something she would willingly subject herself to.

“She’s not bad.” Mitsuri told him, continuing in the direction of the campus coffee shop, “She’s really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” Obanai subtlety rolled his eyes as he opened the door for Mitsuri.

I’m serious.” Mitsuri smiled to herself, “She’s actually kind of sweet in her own way.”

***

Mitsuri was low key freaking out.

The gallery was opening in only a few minutes and it was only that morning that she learned that she was expected to stand beside her piece and answer questions about her artist statement to curious visitors.

She had already botched the statement by not being completely honest about her inspiration and what the painting represented to her, it would be harder to lie straight to peoples’ faces!

Mitsuri swiped the warm sweat from beneath her bangs as people slowly began filtering into the room.

Fortunately, most people seemed content to take a quick look and move on to the next work. Kyoujirou, Shinobu and Obanai also came by to keep her company for awhile and admire her painting. Shinobu did give her a bit of a hard time with her teasing questions, but overall things were going smoothly. A couple people even asked if she would consider selling the painting, but she turned them down. There was already someone she wanted to give it to.

“Are you kidding me?”

The sudden sharp voice that cut through the gentle music playing within the gallery made Mitsuri flinch. She turned to look behind her to see an unwelcome sight.

Before her was a small group, the leader was noticeably one of the upperclassman from her art class. She had always kind of given Mitsuri a hard time, but after she found out that Mitsuri’s art would be showcased over her own, she had gotten worse.

“You really used water color as the medium? What do you think this is, kindergarten?” Her lackeys snickered around her, making Mitsuri shrink back.

“Water color is as beautiful and meaningful a medium as any other.” Mitsuri defended, though her body language was far from confident. If only Kyoujirou, Obanai or Shinobu were still meandering around!

“That spot should be mine,” the woman glowered, her underlings brought attention to the covered canvas carried between them, “so take that off of the wall and get out of my way, okay? I’m taking my spot.”

“I…” Mitsuri pursed her lips and looked down at her feet.

What good would it do to argue? The gallery would be open for another two hours. She really didn’t think she could stand her ground for that long, she didn’t want to. She should just take her things and go…

“Too slow.” The woman reached her hand out to take the painting down herself. She certainly didn’t look like she would be gentle about it either.

But her hand was quickly snatched up, bent at a painful looking angle by a hand with black colored nails.

“Don’t you know you are not permitted to touch the masterpieces on exhibit, or are you really that moronic?”

“(Y/n)!” Mitsuri clasped her hands to her chest, eyes gleaming.

(Y/n)’s eyes found hers, keeping her tight hold on the upperclassman’s awkwardly bent hand, she gave Mitsuri a slow blink of acknowledgment before stepping closer to the upperclassman, further bending her hand backwards.

“Ow! Let go of me, freak!”

“I can make this so much more worse for you, believe me.”

Mitsuri swallowed thickly. How did (Y/n) manage to frown in such away that it almost looked like a smile in the right light?

One of the upperclassman’s goons tried to push (Y/n) away, but her other hand shot out, a small knife glinting in the light forced the goon back with a fearful yelp.

When (Y/n) was sure they would not step up again, she leveled the blade with the upperclassman’s face.

“You want to be recognized for your trash so badly? It may help to cut of a phalange or too,” she lightly skimmed the knife against their cheek,” perhaps an earlobe?”

“Let me go,” the upperclassman’s eyes were fearful “let me go, I’ll leave! I promise I’ll leave!”

“Apologize for your insolence.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Not me, her.” (Y/n)’s eyes flickered to Mitsuri who was still standing dumbstruck by the display before her. How was no one else seeing this?

“I’m sorry! So, so sorry!” The upperclassman yelped again.

Seemingly satisfied, (Y/n) let her go. The upperclassman stumbled back into her lackeys, into her canvas as well, bending it, then they all fled the gallery together, only looking back to make sure (Y/n) wasn’t chasing them.

The knife disappeared up (Y/n)’s sleeve as she turned to face Mitsuri fully. There were a lot of things Mitsuri thought to say, but ultimately they only two words she could push through her lips were,

“You came.”

“I just happened to be in the area.” (Y/n) informed, looking elsewhere until her eyes caught sight of Mitsuri’s painting. She moved in for a closer look.

The canvas was about a square foot in size. In the foreground, there was a branch mostly bare, save for a few sparse clusters of petals. Cherry blossoms if (Y/n) were to guess. The detail was exquisite and the branch almost seemed to leap off of the page, but perhaps more prominent focal point of the piece was the black raven perched on one of the thicker limbs. It’s beak was nuzzled against one of the clusters of blossoms, it’s eye stared into the painting’s viewer, as if warning them away from the sparse blossoms, protecting them from scattering too early.

“It’s ah,” (Y/n) flinched minutely at Mitsuri’s voice, “probably too plain, huh?”

“Not at all.” She disagreed. “Don’t belittle yourself in my presence. Don’t belittle yourself at all, because I will find out and I will punish you accordingly.”

“Okay!” Mitsuri squeaked.

They stood quietly side by side while people moved around them to other exhibits. After a long moment of silence, (Y/n) spoke again,

“I have deduced that you are the sakura blossoms, but what does the raven represent. You seem vague about it in your statement.”

Mitsuri’s face grew pinker as she tried to find a tactful way to answer. She hadn’t expected (Y/n) to come, she had hoped to tell her in the safety and privacy of their dorm room.

“You don’t need to tell me if it distresses you, but I do enjoy watching you squirm.”

That only made Mitsuri blush more furiously, made her brain spin and stomach flip-flop. When another barely there smile graced (Y/n)’s face once more, Mitsuri became completely unintelligible.

Finally Mitsuri took her own painting off of the wall and thrust it into (Y/n)’s hands before hiding her face behind her fingers.

“For you.” She said hurriedly.

(Y/n) cocked her head to the side and looked down at the painting in its new angle.

“Really?”

Mitsuri nodded, face still covered. Which was a shame, because she missed the bashful expression that crossed (Y/n)’s face for all of two seconds.

“I know just where I’ll hang it up in our room then. Thank you. However, the event has not yet ended, so let’s keep it here for now.”

(Y/n) spoke so softly that Mitsuri lowered her hands to reveal a small smile that only grew the longer (Y/n) stayed beside her.

“Are you keeping me company?”

“I suppose. This is mostly as a precaution to make sure no other entitled fools try anything.”

Mitsuri stood a little closer then. Close enough to brush against (Y/n)’s arm. It wasn’t to hug she wanted to give her, but in a public place like this it seemed more appropriate for someone as reserved as (Y/n). But the slight pressure still made her heart race because (Y/n) pressed back and held the position.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #mitsuri kanroji x reader #mitsuri x reader #asks #anonymous

[sparrovv]

Ok I can't sleep rn so I'm gonna keep complaining about school supplies.

Sticky Notes

3×3 in canary yellow:

Can't go wrong with these. You can take notes on them, you can draw on them, you can turn them into tiny paper cranes only for your insane friend to eat them. 11/10

8 pack of 3×3s:

It's nice. I think. The yellow hurts my eyes because it's not a fucking highlighter it's a piece of paper in highlighter yellow. Same with the pink. That should be illegal. The salmon color is weird. The green and light blue are so nice though- 2.5/10 because I like 25% of this pack

Post-it "super sticky notes" assorted pastel:

Nice color selection, but too many colors. Feels wrong. Heretical. Why aren't the colors in order. 5/10 I like the yellow.

Pastel Sticky Notes:

They're pretty for the most part. The pink needs to pick if it wants to look like a raw steak or a highlighter, the green looks like mint ice cream. 8/10 only burns my retinas slightly less than the sun

Post-it "super sticky notes" assorted sizes:

Where's the canary yellow. -20/10 I want my canary yellow.

Transparent sticky notes:

These are so fancy. But also looks like crunchy water. I wanna eat one. 20/10 warning: these are in fact, non edible.

Lined sticky notes:

No.

-500/10

Pastel pack of 4:

THEY HAVE CANARY YELLOW. No annoying colors, it's pretty, the mint green isn't too minty. perfection. 100000/10

3x3 24 pack:

Absolutely not, burn it all. Orange is too orange for a sticky note. If you look at that all you'll see is orange not notes. -10/10 the other colors may be fine without the orange

Pop up notes:

Really? That's what these are called? Fun to play around with. Until you write upside down. Or it falls down and now you have a pile of slightly connected small pieces of paper on the ground which you much now pick up with utmost care so that they don't break into a pile of unconnected small pieces of paper. 100/10 worth the risk

Post-it note cube:

I could start a fire with this. Yet no way to get to the color you want without separating it. Bad design. -200/10

Graphing post it note:

Everything you hate about math class, but small and irritating. only good in math class -174/10

Black sticky note:

mixed feelings here

???/10

#rants #text post #humor? #hot takes #i think #back to school #i hate school #school sucks #us education #sucks. #very much not assassin's creed #its 2am

[creune]

So with the map complete and a day off for eyeball working benefits (I have unfortunately used some strong colors as base landscapes for better visibility and some cool undertones on the land mass and smaller islands so I needed to reset my retinas into a working condition) I have the first step complete and some new things in place for the story to come together

Sadly I won't be able to put too much time into it due to college and later on work, but hey, slow and steady

I am proud of myself and taking all the small victories cause this will be a long ass ride and if I focus only on the end I will burn out faster than a match in a forestfire

So yeah

Small steps, steady steps, it's better then no steps

I have two things to do at this point in time

1, outline the world and the important elements that will need to be understood to make the world a lively and interesting enough place. This will be a bit of a smaller step but no less important than anything else. I need to know how the world works to keep things consistent throughout. But that is all for me to know and for you, dear reader, to wait for

2, tune my writing skills back into action. I need to get back into this stuff so I know what I'm doing when I'm working on this project. As stated before in a post I don't know how to quote, I haven't written in a few years properly so I will try and get some warm ups and practices in as much as I can while struggling through college

These goals are a lot more manageable with the limited free time I will have for a bit before getting to the next steps

Most of them will be similar planning of ideas, characters etc. And when, how and why they exist in the story, where are they and all that stuff, flashing out locations a bit more, add as necessary, outline the plot and arcs and what happens etc

Lots of smaller stuff that will come together to help me get everything done in the end with a book that may or may not be as thick as my head

I have a bad habit of being carried away and an even worse habit of actually following through with my worst ideas

I still struggle to see a specific shade of blue after the last one without my eyes going blurry

So yeah

If I decide I will make something stupid for no better reason than I want it to be like that, I will

Anyway

You will be seeing my writing practice pieces when I make them because at this point this is a journal of both progress on this and just my emotional state and fears and stuff

No one checks this stuff at all anyway, so, might as well just let loose some stuff I don't feel like dealing with or talking through with people

So I can share my excitement, practice, bullshit and anything else

Which means you are subject to me attempting to create a project of monstrous proportions

Practice pieces coming soon as well

And still absolutely nothing certain about what I'm making until I made it

Why?

Feels better this way

At least I can pretend the random internet people are excited for something I'm making for once

Anyway

It's way too late for these rambles

Also, if anyone looks my way, could you drop a codename for the project to tag it under? I codename even my codenames so hard they don't make sense anymore and that might help with that

#rambles #i am going to write this #sorry about the confusing mess btw #but seriously a proper tag for this stuff would be nice at this point #i am horrible at giving titles so a tag is even worse #if nothing else my determination of 'i am going to write this' will keep it nicely together so unless there's a better idea that's the tag

[thatgaywizardoverthere]

When you’re a beauty in the streets but a beast in the sheets

#tell me i’m wrong #the way he lowers her onto the bed so dramatically she bounces on impact #iconic #absolutely everything about this is burned into my retinas #when your plan to get gold and riches is so successful you accidentally get dick too #what a fucking queen #honestly I’m team catrina #girl was not only like the only successful villain but was also too baller for her own good #when you make the most powerful sorcerer in the world have to temporarily kill his boyfriend just to defeat you #i live #name a better love story #i’ll wait #catrina #troll #uther pendragon #merlin #beauty and the beast #bbc merlin

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi! do you know of any fics where sherlock is cute-drunk?

CUTE-DRUNK SHERLOCK

Hi Lovely!

I absolutely do have some on one of my Drinking lists:

Drunk and Drinking Johnlock

Drunk and Drinking Johnlock Pt 2

But here's what I pulled out from those lists that I remember... feel free, friends, to add others if you remember any!

Secrets by 796116311389 (G, 1,084 w., 1 Ch. || Drunk Sherlock, Drunk Confessions, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock) – "He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I'm not. Not his best person."

Tipsy by katkin (T, 2,781 w., 2 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Drunk Sherlock) – "I love everyone in this room," he announced proudly."I know you do, buddy," John replied "Which is why you're going to clean this carpet in the morning. Because you're a good friend." "I am a good friend!" Sherlock agreed.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how--alone together, with booze. They've almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

Never Have I Ever by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 10,655 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Drinking Games, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers) – John and Sherlock tag along for the Met's weekly night out, where the evening's chosen drinking game is Never Have I Ever. Sherlock is reluctant to join in until he realizes he can learn all kinds of new things about John, but he forgets that John might learn a thing or two about him as well.

Christmas by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 7,673 w., 1 Ch. || Worried Sherlock, PWP, Drunkeness, Christmas, Est. Relationship, Idiots So In Love) – John feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hits him, again, that this beautiful, infuriating creature is his. Completely, one-hundred percent his.

Anytime by SilentAuror (E, 17,995 w., 1 Ch. || UST, Porn With Feels, POV Sherlock, Romance, UST/URT, Happy Ending, Drunken Endeavours) – Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it’s having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him. “You’re drunk,” the Johns tell him. Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson’s doily on his head.”

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #drunk sherlock #drinking fics

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily

#cockles #cockles ask #liz answers #i really just. spend hours. writing about misha and his boyfriend. #why. why do i. do that #long post for ts

[entities-of-posts]

hello archivist!

i was wondering what your personal ranking of entities based on how much you like them/think theyre neat (if the corruption isnt #1 i will crawl through your window like a worm (threatening))

Hmmm if we’re just going on Vibes and not alignment, it would go a little like this…

The assholes zone:

15. The Desolation. Like the fire aesthetic, hate everything else about it and most of its avatars I’ve met (present company excluded, of course. None of you budding arsonists that occasionally come visit my Archive have antagonized me too much yet which I appreciate.)

14. The Slaughter. Personal grudge. Anyway the Hunt does everything it does but better. Except the music, gotta give it that.

13. The Extinction. New and exciting to figure out, but still the manifestation of one of the shittiest, most infuriating phenomenon of our era.

The “meh” zone:

12. The Dark. Kinda boring and always hiding stuff from Sight, which are both up there on my list of highest crimes. Also feels like it could do better but it just doesn’t, which is disappointing and annoying.

11. The Buried. So-so. Caves are pretty cool though, but only as long as they don’t actually crush you into a pulp, so… It actually takes caves and make them less fun.

10. The Lonely. Mopey. Statements always taste somehow too salty and flavorless at once. Depressing, no kick to them. I can appreciate a good fog though.

9. The Flesh. Meat is meat, whatever, who hasn’t eaten a little bit of human flesh at some point, not worth the fuss. Feels like its avatars could do some pretty impressive body sculptures, but most just… don’t do anything that interesting, which is probably because everyone who’s got gory inclinations but also actual artistic talent goes with the Stranger.

8. The End. I personally don’t especially worry or care about it, but the aesthetic is a solid 8/10 and its avatars are usually polite.

The cool kids zone:

7. The Corruption. (I know, I know, not first place. Sorry Anna.) Like the bugs, like the mushrooms, a little less fond of the plagues. Statements are a bit of an acquired taste, but you get used to the whiff of mold eventually. Actually kinda sweet, which is pretty rare for Dread Powers. Endearing.

6. The Stranger. Fun loving folks, throw absolutely indescribable parties which is both a pro and a con, easily one of the best styles, and a real sense of grotesque and panache I truly appreciate in a statement. Kind of annoying to try and See through all the smoke and mirrors though.

5. The Hunt. Not always the most pleasant of avatars, but how exhilarating! Truly gets your blood pumping like nothing else! Neither my favorite nor least favorite aesthetic-wise, but an old classic for sure.

4. The Vast. Whose heart doesn’t skip a beat at the sight of the immensity? Who doesn’t feel l’appel du vide tugging at their guts? Isn’t the vertigo just like infatuation, when you think about it? Very very beautiful, maybe a bit too open and empty to have the kind of mystery that really pulls me it.

3. The Eye. Hi 👁 Well obviously I like this one, don’t think I need to expend on that. All the extra eyeballs are a really good look if I do say so myself. We’re a bunch of nerds though I can’t deny it.

2. The Spiral. I’ve spoken at length about how fascinating and exasperating this one is already. Very enthralling colors and pattern that always gets burned into my retinas and give me a headache because I keep staring too long. Avatars can be the cockiest most chaotic bastards out there but they’re always fun and interesting and some of them are even nice. Also I’m honestly so jealous of the Doors those seem so unfairly useful.

1. The Web. Absolute queen. Unlike the Eye, not so busy being knowledgeable she forgets to be clever. I am far far too fond of the Spiders for my own good and they can be so frustratingly secretive but you don’t have all the facts. Which are: I love them.

There we go! Yes I put two of the most violent and destructive Entities at the very bottom of the list, what are they gonna do, try to kill me again? Probably, but look how well that went last time.

#honestly the Slaughter would probably be a bit higher on the list if I didn’t hold an old grudge but too bad because I sure do! #statements #Adelaide

[ezrasarm]

Big Boys Must Cry

Pairing: Benny Miller x GN!reader

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: PTSD, depictions of violence and blood, some heavy angst but also very soft fluff to hopefully balance it out a bit, really lazy proofreading

Summary: Having lost enough sleep thinking about it, Benny realizes it’s time to stop fighting after an incident that puts people’s lives at risk. He cries in front of you for the first time and after a touching heart-to-heart, you convince him to get some help.

A/n: This was born from my own rage over the dumbass standards imposed on men not to show vulnerability cause it just makes me sO fUcKinG aNgRy and I’ve seen it hurt a few too many people I care about. Didn’t quite turn out as I had hoped but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

Masterlist

Cold. Colder than when you fell asleep. You hardly ever needed the duvet when you shared a bed with Benny but for some reason you found yourself reaching for it from where you had shoved it down around your waist––Something stopped you though. Letting your fingertips follow the silky ripples in the sheets to Benny’s side of the bed you pried your eyes open when they kept reaching but didn’t meet warm skin. He wasn’t there.

The light from your phone stung your retinas when you flipped it over to check the time. The numbers 2:37 seemed to burn a blotchy purple into the backs of your eyelids when you blinked away. With a heavy sigh you rolled out of bed and padded down the hallway to where you could see the soft glow of the lamp in the corner of the living room pooling out the doorway.

“Ben,” you hummed from where you’d leaned yourself against the doorframe. His head shot up from its place buried in his hands and you swore you caught the glint of a tear trailing down the side of his cheek before he smeared it away with the heel of his palm. “You okay?” You asked, rounding the couch to take a seat next to him.

“Yeah,�� He sniffed back and you knew that was a lie if you had ever heard one. “Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He choked out a moment later, doing a very poor job of trying to cover up the waver to his voice.

“The dreams again?” You pressed. All you got in return was a broken stare. You didn’t need an answer for that look in his eyes to tell you everything you needed to know. “Ben, ever since—“ he sucked in a breath that told you you probably didn’t need to finish that sentence. “I’ve tried to be patient,” you muttered hardly above a whisper “but I can’t help you if you keep freezing me out,” You settle for. “I want to help you Benny.”

There was a long pause. You almost thought he was going to get up and leave when a strangled sob fell past his lips and instead his head fell forward notching into the crook of your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. It was a little shocking at first, as your hands sought out his warmth through the shirt on his back and your fingers deftly traced up his spine to where they could tangle in the loose curls that tickled his collar, you realized he’d never cried in front of you. You knew he cried, he was awful at hiding it but never before had he broken like this in front of you. The realization made you clutch him to your shoulder that much tighter as you craned your neck to plant kisses in his messy hair.

You managed to catch a particularly articulated gasp from the hot breath on your skin. “I’m so sorry,” he had said and you felt your heartbreak at the words. For a moment you thought he was apologizing for this—for falling apart in front of you, perhaps he was, but with the desperation in his tone, you knew there was more to it than that. You knew he was talking about what had happened on your way home from your date almost a week ago now.

“It’s okay.” You murmur softly between each press of your lips to his scalp. “You have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t yourself when it happened,” you tried to cut the thought off at the root but he was already too far past that.

“But what if I was? What if that’s who I am? What if—“ The thought seems too painful for him to finish and he stops himself. A ragged breath shudders through his hollow chest before a whisper escapes him “I could’ve killed him.” He’s trembling as he clutches your arms now and you can feel the terror flowing off of him in waves. “I—I could have hurt you too.” He can’t bring his eyes to meet yours when you try to lift his gaze in your direction. His face is red and his jaw is clenched so tight you fear he could crack his own teeth.

You have to work to keep your voice even when you scoot closer to him so you’re practically in his lap as you cup his face. The memories of the other night are potent again. The fluorescent lights of the small convenience store overhead, the feeling of his arm yanking out of your grasp despite how hard you tried to pull him in the opposite direction, the sound of bone cracking bone when he lunged for the poor bastard that had overestimated his restraint and underestimated his strength and the echo of your own shouts for him to stop ringing in your ears.

The guy had crowded him in the line for the checkout and something snapped in him. Something you had only ever seen surface when he was deep in the throws of a fight and never quite like this. It was like he’d lost all awareness of the world around him, nothing you said or did seemed to get through. Both you and the shopkeeper trying to pry him away was little use and it wasn’t until you managed to throw yourself between them, a bloody nose from having taken an elbow to the face that he finally cracked.

“You wouldn’t have. I know you, Benny,” You murmured but his own memories of that night were rushing back to him too. Just as they had been all week, keeping him from focusing, keeping him from sleep, keeping him from looking you in the eye because all he could see was the swollen bridge of your nose that was his fault.

He had almost hit you. You had braced yourself as if ready to take it. You looked terrified… of him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget that tear-stained and blood-smeared face if he tried and he knew he would never be able to forgive himself if he’d laid a finger on you. He was having a hard enough time forgiving himself as it was.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of––what I’ve done.” He seemed pained to say and you’re afraid he’s gonna pull away again and block you out like he had every other time you’d tried to broach the topic with him.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You were very well aware that there was a whole other side to your boyfriend’s life that you knew absolutely nothing about and you were okay with that. If he didn’t want you to know, you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to talk to someone.

You’re not sure how but the sentiment seems to sink through to him because instead of getting up and leaving as you were half expecting him to do, he choked out a “I don’t ever want to lose control like that again,” that told you he must have been just as terrified in that moment as you had looked to him.

“I—“ his words caught in his throat for a second as though he were afraid to voice them out loud but he seemed committed to them nonetheless. “I think I have to stop fighting for a while—forever, who knows.”

For a second you thought his hesitancy was directed towards you. You had always been supportive of him, you were glad he had something to be passionate about and that sometimes got him a bit of cash but you weren’t ecstatic about watching him get pummeled in a cage on your nights off. You thought you had made that attitude clear to him but still he danced around the idea as though he was scared to disappoint and it’s only when the word popped into your head that it dawned on you it wasn’t you that he was afraid of disappointing.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this…” you began and he was already shaking his head “but I think you should tell Will exactly what you’ve just told me.”

You knew the two brothers were close, but you also knew there were some tensions between them that all the training helped them work through. It forced them to spend time together in times they wanted to least. He wasn’t afraid of letting Will down by quitting fighting, he was afraid of letting Will down by quitting them. He was afraid he’d failed him, failed to keep his head on when he knew what Will had gone through to do the same. He had promised this wasn’t going to happen and yet here he was, petrified of what to do next. “No, you know how he is, I can’t do that—“

“Benny, he’s your brother, not just your trainer. He wants you to be safe, and happy, and healthy, just like I do,” you whisper, brushing some of the stray tears from the apple of his cheeks and pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “But as much as I want to be able to wave this all away for you, he knows better than anyone else what you’re going through.” A kiss to his cheek, “He can help.” A kiss to the bridge of his nose.

He gives you a wordless nod and you press your forehead to his, squeezing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath. “Thank you for talking to me. I know it’s not always easy for you,” you hum and you really mean it. You’re proud that he’s recognizing he needs help and you're glad he was able to confide in you to get it. “We can call him in the morning, but for now we need to get you some rest.” You whisper and you feel his nod against your forehead when you go to press a kiss to his other cheek.

“I love you,” the words are frail on his lips but every bit as meaningful and you feel your mouth curve up into a small smile as you repeat them back to him before this time he’s the one to pull you into a kiss. It’s desperate and it's sweet. It’s clingy and forceful but ever so feather-light. This is your Benny, you think to yourself. This right here is exactly how you know he could never hurt you. Before you know it he’s chasing your lips as you climb out of his lap, your fingers tangled with his own as you drag him down the hall and back to bed.

“Rest,” you remind him. “We’ll finish this in the morning.”

He manages to sleep that night.

#benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #ben miller x reader #ben miller x you #benny miller fanfiction #ben miller fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction

[theonewiththefanfics]

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #1d fan fiction #1d #one direction #one direction imagine #harry styles angst #eroda #harry styles eroda #all american rejects #give you hell #gives you hell

[marathoning-barbie]

Barbie in The Nutcracker (2001)

This was the very first movie in this franchise, and you can certainly tell.

Pixar quality this is not.

I should preface this by saying that I absolutely adored this movie as a child. It was not my absolute favorite, but probably in third place. Like all my childhood favorites, this was one of the reasons I was extremely obsessed with ballet as a child, and frankly secretly still kinda am. So does it hold up?

Yes! … Mostly.

This movie is a loose adaptation of the ballet The Nutcracker, telling the story of Clara and a prince-turned-nutcracker defeating the evil Mouse King. The actual similarities with the source material are few and far between, but perhaps I should note now that I generally do not care much for accuracy when it comes to adaptations like these. As long as the basic building blocks are there and the movie still works by itself, it’s fine. There certainly is a level of inaccuracy where even I have to complain (hint hint, you’ll see that in the next review), but every single change this movie has made is, in my opinion, a good one. The ballet is basically just one act that is the beginning scene of this movie, and then one act of partying, which wouldn’t have made a particularly great movie. So let’s get on with it then.

This is the movie of Clara, who lives with her younger brother at their grandfather’s house. For Christmas, she is gifted a wooden Nutcracker in the shape of a man by her visiting aunt. That night, her house is invaded by an army of mice, led by the Mouse King, who puts a spell on her that shrinks her to the mice’s size. She has to travel to the land of Parthenia after she is cursed to be tiny by the Mouse King, together with the suddenly-alive Nutcracker to find the Sugar Plum Princess, who may help them defeat the King and break the spells put on them. The Nutcracker is revealed to actually be Prince Eric, a human man and the long-lost heir to the throne of Parthenia, cursed into this form by the Mouse King. They manage to defeat the King by themselves, and it turns out that Clara was the Sugar Plum Princess all along. Even though she wants to stay in Parthenia, she is forced to return home and at first is led to believe that everything that happened was only a dream, until the real Prince Eric visits her at home and they share a dance together.

So, you really can’t talk about this movie without bringing up the animation. Yes, it’s bad. A lot of the characters are pretty ugly (the Nutcracker is the only one that really holds up, but he does hold up pretty well) and the environments aren’t that nice-looking either. That being said, I don’t care too much for it (though it does make it hard to enjoy the pretty gif sets sometimes). This was 2001 and pretty low-budget, and who knows how much money they spent on Tim Curry or the mo-cap dancing (which is fantastic, by the way). The original Toy Story frankly also doesn’t look amazing anymore, and Pixar definitely had a way higher budget.

The first thing that really got to me was how slow the start of the movie is. Despite my immense nostalgia, I really struggled to stay interested during the beginning. The really ugly pink/red overtone in the scenes in Clara’s home certainly doesn’t help.

I think it was supposed to make the environment look warm and homely, but I just felt like my retinas had somehow been burned out right before I started the movie.

In addition, wow, something was off with the sound. There are scenes that feel incredibly awkward and silent, and I’m pretty sure what I was noticing was a noticeable lack of background music and/or good sound effects in certain places. I’ll fully admit that I’m not an expert and maybe I’m blaming the sound design/mixing when it was actually something different, but this is the only movie that has this problem and this was the only difference I could pinpoint.

With all the negative stuff out of the way, the movie picks up hard as soon as they get to Parthenia. The sound problem persists, but things actually get a little more interesting, and we get rid of the pink filter of death. I also have to admit that watching every character they come across absolutely roast the shit out of Prince Eric while he just kind of has to stand there and take it is way funnier than it has any right to be.

tfw the little boy in a gingerbread costume just called you a bitch-ass motherfucker

One plot point that really surprised me upon rewatch was how early Clara called out the Nutcracker’s identity. At that point, we had already met a few of the side characters, and we got to see him reacting somewhat gloomy whenever they complained about Prince Eric. I absolutely expected the movie to try and treat him actually being the guy as some kind of super secret twist because sometimes kids’ movies just are like that. Instead, it’s revealed around 25 minutes in by Clara going up to him and basically saying “Sooo, you’re Prince Eric, right?” Maybe I’ve just watched too many bad children’s movies, but I appreciated the writers respecting the viewers enough to not genuinely expect them to be absolutely stupid, even if the movies are made for little kids.

The voice-acting is generally great. Kelly Sheridan makes her first appearance as Barbie and she is my absolute queen, and the late Kirby Morrow (RIP) brings a great gentle energy to the Nutcracker. He’s 100% my favorite character in this movie and also the best part of it. He’s charming, he’s genuinely very kind, and his grappling with his own responsibilities and mistakes is actually pretty interesting. In short:

Unfortunately, this movie does have that “Beauty and the Beast” effect of growing so attached to a character’s design that it feels jarring when he’s suddenly human again and looks incredibly different. It doesn’t help that Prince Eric the Human looks like he was designed by having an AI create a Sims3-era Sim with no instructions other than “man”.

Oh, obviously I can’t bring up the voice acting without mentioning Tim Curry as the Mouse King. I don’t know if he’s cheaper to get than I assume or if Mattel really wanted a recognizable name for their villain’s voice actor. Needless to say, he’s fantastic, and he makes the Mouse King a lot of fun to watch.

Now, one thing I’m kinda iffy on is the ending. “It was all a dream” is an extremely tired trope, and “It was all a dream, but actually it wasn’t" is only slightly less tired. I was also honestly hoping for a slightly more ambiguous ending, but then my hopes were crushed by Eric handing her the locket and basically confirming everything was real.

To elaborate, I think her just waking up without Eric showing up again would have probably been too sad for a movie whose main demographic is going to be very young girls, and I don’t think I would’ve liked it either. I do think it could’ve been more interesting though if they hadn’t made it completely obvious that this is indeed the same Prince Eric and her “dream” was real. I mean, it still would have been fairly obvious without the locket, but I think it could’ve been ambiguous enough to spur on some heated playground discussions if Clara just has very strange clairvoyant dreams. Maybe I’m off about this, maybe it would have been worse than I think, but hey, adult me would appreciate it. As it is now, I’m just wondering if Prince Eric gave up his position as king again or if he’s somehow going to kidnap her back to Parthenia (again).

Overall, this was a nice watch, with a slight bonus for nostalgia and great music (only slight because it’s not actually an original soundtrack). This movie isn’t going to be in the great section of the ranking, but certainly still in the good part. Out of any of the first three, this is the one most likely to be moved up when we get further into the ranking. Oh, and I want to point out any and all gayness in these movies when I see it, so let me say that while there’s really no WLW stuff, Major Mint and Captain Candy are clearly married, and since to me all fictional characters are bi until proven otherwise, all of Barbie’s canon ships are bi4bi and you can't change my mind.

I mean, in hindsight I am somewhat unsure what to think about Captain Candy’s design. I don’t want to call it p̴̓̀̆̓̃̍͜r̵̟̠̭͈͑́̇̅̎o̵̗͇͓̫̜̐͠b̴͔̐̈́̈́l̶̰̅̈̓e̷̛͈̟̙̺̓̈̅͝m̶̧͈̭̯͔͉̓͑a̷͇̋͂̆̏t̴̪̬̤̊́̏́̒i̶̬̱̘̗̋̑͌̑͗̕c̵̱̳̟̄̓̈̇̐ͅ, but it certainly wouldn’t fly today. But also, wow, I completely missed the fact he literally has a rainbow feather(?) attached to his turban.

A little fruity, I gotta be honest.

Sadly, this movie already starts a tradition in this franchise which is going to get very, very annoying very soon: random little fairies, and animal sidekicks. I always hate the random pixie characters these movies have, and I also hate most of the animal sidekicks. Barbie actually didn’t have one in this movie, but the Mouse King’s bat henchman fills that role, and he’s only tolerable because he’s a villain and therefore allowed to be more fun.

Oh well, my hate of annoying animal sidekicks sure won’t bite me in the ass in the next movie already, right?

… Right?

#barbie #barbie nutcracker #barbie in the nutcracker #barbie movies #barbie movie review

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.  

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly. 

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover​

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

           Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

          In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

          Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

          This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

          “Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

          “Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

          “Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

          “It’s incredible,”

          “Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

          “A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

          “Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

          “Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

          “Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

          “How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

          Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

          “Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

          “Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.  

          “Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

          “That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

          Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

          “Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

           “You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

           “Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

           “I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

           “Jimin,” You sighed.

           “What?” He snapped.

           “I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

           “Sorry for what?”

           “For everything,”

           “Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

           “I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

           “So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

           You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

           “How did it start?”

           “Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

           “You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

           “I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

           “Still, you checked,”

           “The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

           “I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

           “What do you have to be sorry for?”

           “I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

          It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

           “Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

           “I regret that,” Jimin told you.

           “I cried for two days,”

           “I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

           “It was such a dick move.”

           Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

           “I know,” He conceded.

           “I can only assume it was on purpose.”

           “It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

           “I was,” You nodded.

           “Was?”

           “He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

          You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

           “I was drunk,” He excused.

           “You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

           “I did,” He conceded.

           “I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

          It didn’t last through summer.

           Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

           “You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

           “What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

           “That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

           Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

           “Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

           “That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

           “No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

           “Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

           “I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

           “Bullshit,”

           “You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

           “Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

           “I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

           “Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

           “You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

           “No, I’m not,”

           “Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

           “I’m so-

           “No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

           “I’m so-

           “Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

           “Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

           “You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

           “I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

           “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

           “I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

           “There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

           “I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

           “Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

           “You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

           “Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

           “No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

           “Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

           “I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

           “But you didn’t,” You remind him.

           “I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

           “Jimin,”

           “We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

           “Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

           “Because isn’t an-

           “I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

          The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

           “Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

           “What?”

           “Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

           “Jimin, we’ve hardly-

           “I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

           “You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

           “I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

           “You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.  

           Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

           “This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

           He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

           “When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

           “I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

           “Such an-

           “And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

           “I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

           “But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

           “Jimin,” You murmured.

           “What Y/N?”

           “I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

           “You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

           “Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.  

           “Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

           “You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

           “I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

           “Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

           “You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

           Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

           “I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

           “We don’t have to have sex,”

           “Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

           “And you call yourself a journalist!”

          “Shut up!”

          “You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

          “I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

          It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

          “You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

           “Yes,”

           “To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

           “Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

           “Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

           “Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.  

           “Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

           “Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

           “You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

           “He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

          “I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

          “He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

          “He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

          “Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

          “He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

          “To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

          “Was he shocked?”

          “Pleasantly so,”

          Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

           “Jimin?”

           “Yes?”

           “Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

           “No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

           “It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

           “Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

           “No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

           Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

           “Did he, did he bring me up when he-

           “Dumped me?”

  ��        “Yeah,”

           “Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

           “I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

          “Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

          Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

           “I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

           Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

           “You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

           Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

           “When have I ever been subtle?”

           “Clearly not in your Tw-

           “Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

           “Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

           Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

           As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

          In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

           Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

#thebtswritersclub #clubjimin #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanuniversity #jimin #park jimin #jimin fluff #jimin angst #park jimin angst #park jimin fluff #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin / you #park jimin / reader #jimin x you #jimin x reader #jimin / you #jimin / reader #BTS fanfic #BTS fic #jimin fanfic #park jimin fic #enemies to lovers #exes to lovers #non idol au #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock

[fbfh]

magnus chase relationship and intimacy hcs

I genuinely found zero magnus hcs and it made me really sad

Also might not be as in character as my hoo posts cause I haven’t finished the series my library is closed don’t come for me-

As with all steamy/nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+

Warnings: moderate descriptions of ptsd symptoms and emotional recovery,, also like boinking and dicks obvs

1.6k words uwu

‘,:)

So he absolutely definitely has ptsd 

I don’t remember norse demigods being mentioned as having adhd and dyslexia so correct me if I’m wrong lol

I mean his mom was brutally murdered, he was fucking homeless, then he was killed and taken to valhalla

So yeah

Ptsd

He’s really defensive and jumpy at physical contact for a while

But he’s also incredibly touch starved

He’s super whipped for you

So it makes him really frustrated when he wants to be affectionate and vulnerable with you but he just,,, can’t

He has a lot of emotional walls up too for obvious reasons

You have to have really clear communication with him 

Which you do,, and he appreciates it a lot

You baby step into affection and intimacy

And let him take the lead a lot

It takes a while

But after a bit he gets these bursts of affection where he’ll cuddle and make out with you for like

Five minutes or less

Then it starts to feel weird again

You try to do small stuff like hand holding or blowing him a kiss or putting your head on his shoulder to help melt that ice

And it works

It goes from feeling weird, to weird but nice, to nice but kind of weird, to nice enough to ignore the weird part

As soon as he can be,,, he is an affectionate fiend

He likes to bear hug you a lot

He keeps a hand on your cheek or jaw line or the back of your neck when you kiss a lot

He still gets a little weird about his back or stomach or neck being touched which you totally understand 

So you kiss his shoulders and collarbones and run your hands over his chest and arms a lot

Once he had a really bad dream and couldn’t sleep cause he didn’t feel safe bc

~‧₊˚; *‧.₊˚ flashbacks fucking suuuuuuck ~‧₊˚; *‧.₊˚

So you played some home renovation show and spooned him and whispered

“It’s okay, I’ve got your back”

He didn’t have anymore nightmares that night

He really likes back hugs after that, as long as he knows it’s you behind him

He gives really nice kisses

It’s like a big full kiss

Idk how else to describe it but it’s very unique to him

He’s super protective over you still in a healthy way

He’s super fuckin pansexual and you can pry that from my cold dead hands

So he has a lot of hoodies and denim jackets

And bracelet stacks and weird dad thrift store shirts

And you can get him more of these things no matter how many he has and he will love it an equal amount 

Which is a lot

He gets kind of insecure and feels bad about all his weird symptoms bc he minimizes what he’s been through a lot

It’s kind of a why can’t I just get over it and be normal feeling

You remind him a lot that it’s okay and his feelings and experiences are valid and he’s safe now

He needs to hear that a lot

Once a lot of that ice has been broken he gets really touchy really fast

You two were just like

Chilling on the couch watching a movie or something

And he nuzzles into your side to cuddle

So you lay down a little more and he rests his head on your chest

You keep watching the movie like that for a while 

He props himself up and just kind of looks at you for a minute

He can’t remember feeling this warm before he met you

And now he feels really really warm 

And tingly

You’re about to look over and ask if he’s alright when he just 

Presses his face into your neck and starts kissing you

You let out this breathy flustred little laugh he’s never heard before and he wants to make you make that sound again

He kisses up to your face and his hair is all in his eyes

So you brush it out of the way and tuck it behind his ear and his face nuzzles into your hand

He bites back a moan

You end up making out a lot

Which leads to,, other things

You don’t question it or ask where that came from

You just give him a lot of love and reassurance

Once he feels comfortable,,,, I hope you’re ready bitch

Cause you’ll be under him

And on top of him

A lot

Like a lot lot

He doesn’t have a lot of experience so he likes it when you take the lead

Big fan of showering together

I almost fucking forgot

He thinks you look hot in everthing obvs

But if you wear his boxers 

He goes apeshit

If you wear bras he likes the unlined sheer ones best on you

He also thinks you look really nice in boyshorts and cheekies

Esp the invisible microfiber ones

He likes how soft they are and how they just kind of seamlessly glide over your hips

If you play with his hair he practically starts purring

If you tug it really gently he moans

Just thought you should know that

Things get really intense in a good way with him

He gets very caught up in the heat of the moment

Has broken the bed before

And would do it again

Blitz and hearth almost walked in on you two cause they heard a loud crack and thought someone broke in

It was a very very close call

You laughed about it a lot later

He also likes things to be really soft and fluffy

So sleepy morning sex is definitely in his vocabulary

When he gets more comfortable he loves when you rest your head on his tummy and he can play with your hair and touch your shoulders

He also likes when you have your hand resting on his lower back

He finds it really grounding

Gives a lot of back hugs

Sometimes his head is resting on your head or shoulders

Sometimes he’s sucking on your neck

Just kinda depends yk

Really really likes it when you straddle him

Esp when you play with the hem of his clothes

You really really like to straddle him too

It’s a nice seat if you get what I’m sayin

Kind of wants to have shower sex with you but is also really scared of slipping and getting hurt

Settles for romantic bubble baths instead

Kind of stubbly, esp in the morning

It’s really cute

But kind of ouchie on more,,, sensitive areas

He’s usually fine staying a little stubbly, unless he’s planning to surprise you

You get a little excited when you see him shaving extra carefully

He sees you staring and just kind of looks you up and down and winks

Alksdjafskfja 

He likes having his hair longer

So do you

So you show him different ways to do little buns and stuff to keep it out of his face and stop it from getting tangled when he sleeps

Ngl you haven’t lived until you’ve seen magnus hard in his boxers kneeling over you hastily throwing up his hair so you can have some fun

That image is thankfully burned into your retinas for all eternity 

You get palpitations thinking about it

You’re the only one allowed to play with his hair or call him maggie/mags

He sometimes borrows your scrunchies and it’s really really cute

You end up with this little routine of swapping them when they stop smelling like the other person

If you don’t wear scrunchies you get him some and he thinks it’s adorable

You also steal them and swap them out when they don’t smell like him anymore

He loves having picnics outside with you

Especially to go stargazing

Yeah rooftop picnics are a thing

Plus people can’t really see what you’re doing and no one really goes up there so uh

As long as you can stay quiet you’re never bored

Sometimes when you’re stargazing his hand will just kind of gradually go from resting on your hip to wrapping his arms around you and having you lean against his chest

You sometimes raid the fridge together in the middle of the night

You took him to mcdonalds at like 2am once

It was not the last time that happened

Totally the type to love getting matching pj bottoms with you

Really loves it when you hold his hand with both of yours

It makes him feel really loved and masculine in a good healthy way and generally good

On days when he just Needs a Distraction you try any hobby or activity you can get your hands on

His favorites so far are painting each others nails, random online flash games like papa’s, finding the best climbing trees (weather permitting), and binge watching and reviewing the weirdest shows and movies you can find

Including but not limited to flava of love, josie and the pussycats in outer space, lightning point, and clone high

The movies are usually really low budget, or questionable teen romance movies like twilight, sierra burgess is a loser, the kissing booth etc. 

You still quote clone high to this day

He’s very excited for the reboot me too, magnus, me too

Doesn’t stop clowning on TJ bc of it

TJ has no fucking idea what he’s talking about 

“For the last time Magnus, I’m just named after him. I’m not a clone. I don’t know John Kennedy or Abraham Lincoln, and how could I possibly know Cleopatra??? Where are you getting this from, you understood this like a week ago-”

He really likes just kind of hugging you from behind and smooching wherever he can and swaying back and forth

Tells you he loves you a lot

Really really grateful you’re in his life

Does everything he possibly can to be the best boyfriend

Cause you deserve it

Did i mention he loves you a lot lot lot

Cause he really does

Treat him right, give him a lot of love 

He also blushes really easily shhh

#magnus chase #magnus chase x reader #magnus chase headcanons #magnus chase dating would include #magnus chase smut #mcatgoa