#and then do *something* about the sewing room

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

#🌟 stars galaxy #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct reader #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #renjun #renjun fluff #huang renjun #nct renjun

[breadsticksposts]

yandere scaramouche!

rapunzel references reader!! {when will my life begin}

-you woke up at 7 am the bed beside you empty, well scaramouche usually left you alone in the morning. so this is normal

-you go to the bedroom and clean yourself. after that you go to the dinning room to eat your breakfast that the maids prepare for you, many people says yyou are living your best life, but how can it be the best if you are lock in a big villa?? well yes itts pretty and anything you could ever imagine. BUT you also want your freedom!! what is fun about being lonely?? you have no one to talk too and barely anything to do! well, that is until you kinda do chores around!

-firsr scaramouche doesnt understand you, why would you want to do chores when you can just sit ot read a book?? i mean you do get too watchh TV but you can watch it if you have his permission, and how can you ask him when he is mostly not with you every time??

-so scaramouche let you do what ever you wat, yyou kinda just clean the room that you like! like the painting room,library, kitchen, sewing place,music room.

-after you eat your breakfast, you take a broom and went to the music room, because that is the pllace that really need a tidy up! you brush and bruch the floor, mop it and put the instrument in their own place!

-next you do your laundry, well you inda just seperatted the clothes and gie it to the maids to do the rest, but that must count for something right??

-after all of that you look at the time and its omly been 7:30, you do it all in 30 minute!? you decide to sweep the rooms that you like, you went to the library and clean it, but mostly you dont see anything to clean, mayybe just the floor but the books is in their place. you are kinda great full too

-the library is not that big so you usually dont gett tired up from just sweeping the floor, well..maybe just a little bit!

-you then try to pick a book to read and waste your time on, but you cant get any book that you like! most of the book that you like, its finished! gods why dont scaramouche put the kind of books that you like?? maybe you can aste your time reading new books! at the end of the day you read the same books over again.

-its 10:30 now, well that sure waste much time! i guess?? well you get bored of reading, you know all the plots already so its came to be a bit boring, but there some parts you like or still miss! after all of that you were thinking that its a great time to start paiting! you love love LOVE painting! i mean you could draw anything that you like, that is practiclly freedom fr you!

- you went to the painting room or you can say art room, that room is only ffills with your paintings in the walls and canvas! all match your aesthetics. you take your brus and start painting on the wall, you sit on a ladder and paints some details that. you miss on the previous drawings, or just add some more drawings!

-you waste your time mostly in the art room, coloring every inch. you were thinking to ask scaramouche to buy you more canvas for you to paint, well you just need the right moment, really.

-you lose to track of time until someone knock at the door. “my lady, please come ouut, its already lunch time. the lord will not be very pleased if he knows you forget or didnt eat.”

-you sigh and clean up the mess you create and came out of the room. you went to the dining room again and you have been prepared some foods, mosty its cold but you dont really care.

-you always wonder why scaramouche have a long didng table,its mostly just you and him so why there is many sits, who is. that for?? but you always think tht maybe sometimes there will be some important people joining dinner. who knows??

-after you eat the foods that you were given, you went to your room, where many things are in the tto keep you distracted! like sewings/knits,and puzzles

you do your puzzles, which is the one you been wanting and been begging for scaramouche to buy it for you. you put it up and it only took 15 minutes. boringgg!

you try to knits but you cant get how to do it! like how can people do this thing?? its so hard!!

-ell finally after many tries you kind of give up and went to the kitchen to bake!

-you try to bake some cookies but you kinda dont get the hang ofbaking yet so you mess up many times and ending up the cheff bake it for you. its so delicious, its warm and h=when you put it with cold milk its just make the. perfect combos!

-then you feels like you need a GOOD stretch from all of those activity. you went to your room and stretch, you try to hold your own feet but you cant and you just end up being tired.

-but if you were thinking, why dot i just escape from here?? you tried. really! but every inch of this villa is filled with maids and body guards, and you always feels like the is eyes on you every inch of your body. the last time you tired to escape, you kinda end up being punished by scaramouche and we do not want to think about it again!most of the time you do just end up being cought or fail and you will face his wrath later..

-you end up laying in the couch, resting. its so boring in here, how come they say i should be greatfull living like this??

-you take your book and reread it again, you miss when your life is just about friends, family, and freedom. until this happen, now you can only read a book about fantasies. there is not many amount of book about fantasies in the library, most about education, funfacts or straight up history. you always falls asleep reading tthose books! you were thinking for your birthday gifts, you could ask for books??? WHAT! no way1!! you could ask for “anything” but you ask for some books!? ugh..

-how about..the outside?? i mean its been so long that you didnt see tthe outside! youu always wondering what is it feels like again?? windy? refreshing? hot? you can only imagine it.., the closes thing you got is the garden! you can only see the skies..,every corner have a tall smooth walls that was imossible to climb on.

-okey thats enough!! just focus on the book you are reading and dont think about thos impossible things. scaramouche? letting you out?? you must be dreaming!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

‘

“this woman..keep reading tthe same book over and over again?? ugh..there is so many book i bought for her and she keep reading those books?? what is she thinking!? i. didnt waste all that money for nothing!” scaramouche groan while looking at the cameras he set up in every corner of the rooms.

“my lord, if i read the titles of the book, i would think its an fanfiction book, or full of imaginative things.., i do recommend buying her more like those books, rather than historical books” the head maid says, giving scaramouche some advice.

“gods.. what girl want so much!-“ scaramouche complains

“my lord, this girl have been goods for a few days..i think you could give her something for her being obidient? from the reports of the workers, she been helping around the villa, and didnt do any escape attemts” the head maid told scaramouche about the past few days ago.

“i see, i will take a look. now leave.”. scaramouche order the head maidas the. take a look of you laying on the couch reading those books again.

im so sorry if there any typos! and i hope you enjoy it!

#scaramouche x reader #reader x genshin character #genshin scaramouche #yandere #genshin yandere #genshin headcanons #headcanon #scenerios #scaramouche

[unfunnystandup]

does anyone wanna see my super neurodivergent charlie kelly collection . i don’t wanna post and embarrass myself for no reason

#highlight of it will always be my charlie coat that my lovely partner got for our first anniversary #but gave it to me about a month earlier when i was having a really rough time #and they said “hang on a sec i gotta go do something #and went out to the living room to quickly sew on the patches that they ordered separately to get it ready for me #:) yeah #charlie kelly #charlie day #iasip #it’s always sunny in philadelphia #delete later

[starpros-sunshine]

seb. seb bard wataru and secluded noble eichi as their cnstars exclusive cards au

!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes yes yes yes yes Ohhh I can see it I can see it

I'm gonna put this under read more because this could get longer

Wataru as a traveling bard and Eichi is a noble that lives a kind of isolated life dur to his weak constitution and Wataru comes by Eichis castle or mansion or chateau or whatever fancy piece of architecture he occupies and Eichi hears Watarus music and comes to the window and they have a moment of eye contact and initially Wataru doesn't think much of it and travels further after he played a few more pieces for Eichi -because of course if the audience enjoys it then the entertainer shall entertain for that is his job - and so after that little private concert is over he travels further. His eay leads him this small town that's not so far from the fancy piece of architecture, because I like to be a little cliché, and there he hears all sorts of rumours about the mysterious nobles that live in the...I'll just call it a mansion now it's a chateau-adjacent mansion. Any ways those rumours catch his intrigue and he decides to stay in the town a little and he stays at an inn maybe and he pays him rent by playing music for them in the evenings,,,

Oh and maybe this is where he runs into Yuzuru! He's on the street just observing and he sees this elegant and very pretty looking young man and he doesn't look like someone from the town but he also doesn't have the air of an aristocrat about him and he catches some older women gossipping about him and apparently he's a domestic servant of the strange nobles that everyone seems to be a little scared of because they never seem to show their face anywhere.

Maybe he tries to strike up a conversation with Yuzuru or maybe that process repeats multiple times but eventually he decides to snoop around the Mansion a little and maybe he runs into Eichi again,,,

And maybe he gives him a few more private concerts or magic performances I reckon he does those too and the intrigue grows and grows and by now the people in the town know Wataru by name and sometimes he gets free food gifted by them and they're still a little wary of him because he just appeared one day and nobody knows where this strange man with his birds and his heavenly voice came from but he seems to be nice so they come to like him.

And Yuzuru picks up some of the rumours about this strange bard that pays his room at the local inn by playing songs for the patrons in the evenings and sometimes helps out the elderly i the town and he notices he's seen this man before playing music outside of their house so of course he mentions these rumours to Eichi and Tori who in turn are intrigued and a little sceptic respectively.

When Wataru appears the at Eichis balcony the next time Eichi actually initiates a conversation with Wataru and that continues over the next few visits as well and eventually they go from "Bard" and "My Lord" to "Wataru" and "Eichi" or still "My Lord" but this is different though it's the same as when Wataru calls Eichi emperor it's more teasing than a formality you have to imagine a grin in his voice as he says that. Tori and Yuzuru have no idea about most of these visits because half of them are in the middle of the night (I imagine it a little like the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet right right).

And so they grow closer and as the time passes Wataru starts to actually settle a little in the town. The room he was renting at the inn is pretty much actually his room now, he could've moved out but he lives on a good deal and the older couple that runs the inn treat him like their own son now (he doens't even have to do shows every evening anymore, just sometimes a week) and pretty much all of the regulars know him personally now and on a first name basis (nobody actually knows his last name). This is the first time in forever he's stayed at one place for this long and it's all just because he has taken a liking to this feeble-ish blonde aristocrat that looks at him like he hung all the stars in the sky up by himself.

He still only knows Tori by hearsay and Yuzuru just briefly - somehow they never ran into each other when he was there during the day - But Eichi has joked about introducing them properly before.

in my mind there's this one specific image of Eichi and Wataru standing on his Balcony and they are both on opposite sides of the railing and it's the middle of the night and it's chilly so Eichi has his blanket draped over his shoulders because that's the sensible thing to do when it's cold and Wataru is standing on the opposide side of the railing, kind of standing on the edge of it and leaning more over the railing into the space of the balcony where you actually stand on and they are being disgusting in the way that they're flirting and maybe they also kiss a little,,, maybe,,,, because I want them to,,,,

And sweet innocent Yuzuru only hears about things between Eichi and Wataru via the rumour mill when he goes to run errands on the market and hears that the bard from the inn has been seen in the evening multiple times as he's walking the path to the mansion of the nobles nobody really knows. And he hasn't been back until the early hours of the morning. And so Yuzuru tells this to Tori. And they're both too awkward to ask him straight out so whenever they hear Eichi humming a tune while he does... whatever it is rich people do. They just look at each other and the question is in the room but nobody knows how to break it and they come to just. the weirdest conclusions because nobody in this house communicates like a normal person.

And maybe sometimes Eichi sneaks out to visit Wataru in the town (the first time this happened he put on a really big hood and changes his voice a little so it would be harder to recognise and actually caught Wataru off-guard for once). Watarus birds like him too...at least most of them do.

I like to think he once had to explain to Tori why he smells like bird and it was suuuper awkward because there aren't a lot of ways to talk yourself around having to explain that the night before you were basically turned into a pigeon nest and it took you and your bard-kind-of-boyfriend-but-also-not-really-but-you-have-something-going-on-you-just-don't-really-know-what-to-call-it-because-that-topic-has-been-successfully-avoided spent a good 20 minutes trying to get all the feathers out of your hair and clothes. Tori didn't buy his excuse but it made so little sense that he doesn't really think he wants to know either so he choses to live in ignorance for once. (when he does meet Wataru he remembers this and suddenly it all makes sense because Wataru also smells like birds. He choses living in ignorance was good while it lasted.)

After some more time of being acquainted with Wataru Eichi and Tori decide to also show their faces in the town for once and both parties have to warm up to each other and it's a little off for all involved (Wataru and Yuzuru are the only people who actually know both sides personally) but with the time the general unease regarding the secluded nobles ebbs out a little. There's still people who don't like them but it's civil still because they like Yuzuru and while they think Wataru is a bit strange they have come to like him as well and why provoke unneccessary comflict when you can just decide not to interact with those people.

I could talk sooooo much more but I don't think anyone actually wants to read this much or cares for it so I will try to stop now but just. Eichi bringing the traveling bard Wataru to settle down and "tying him down to humanity" by keeping in one place and Ohhhhhhh you can even have something EP:Link-esque in this like. Eichi is convinced Wataru will leave him eventually because he's a free spirit and tying him down would be unfair or impossible or something and Wataru gives him...I dob't know maybe not a mask but his instrument or something maybe a mask works too because he would probably still be a bard the man has to make a living somehow but symbolically the instrument would work better. But yes and he gives that to him and tells him "this is me and I offer this to you" and Eichi still doesn't get it so at their next redezvous it's like. the second part of that converstation where Eichi had to accept that Wataru wanting to stay is the only logical explanation left and he has to accept that and ooooh there's layers to this there is actually layers to this I'm so,,,,,hehehehehe,,,,laughing ecstatically and clapping my hands,,,,

#there could be other characters too in this au #Tsukasa as the neighbouring aristocrat #Keito as the librarian or something I need to figure this out still #Kuro is a seamstress (not the right word but you know what I mean) #Kuro Shu and Mika are the people who sew the clothes for basically this entire town #but it's a small town there's not many people and the clothes get worn until they're unwearable so it works out #this is gonna marinate in my brain for a bit #I love love looove this concept #Natsume the son of the towns fortune teller and he takes to Wataru like a little duck #hehehehehe #thank you mar for putting this thought into my brain ballroom it's so fun #yumefan🎼🌠 #I love Wataei every version of them #wataei #Has Yuzuru walked into Eichis room to check on him because he didn't appear at the usual time he wakes up #and maybe he's not doing so well so you should check just in case #and he walks in on Eichi asleep in his mountain of pillows and Wataru next to him also asleep in Eichis mountain of pillows? #He most certainly has. #That's how he found out about the weird singing magic bird man that stole Eichis heart away #maybe #maybe maybe #Märchen au

[20w14a]

Was gonna make a convoluted post talking about Evil X and Worm Man since y'know I like them a lot as evidenced on this blog but to sum it up, as funny and neat as they are as just plain joke characters they really do feel like foils to each other and I really wish that was shown more.

#player.text #/seed #ex: both their standalone episodes focuses on them facing a problem and having something to prove #however both of them go about it in very different ways #worm man tries to prove he's a hero via a escape room which ends up not proving much in the long run #whereas evil x begrudgingly plays the tag game after being tagged by x in the previous episode all while dying and failing in the process #however he does succeed in the end by tagging jevin #it's also worth noting that the whole reason evil x got tagged in the first place was because x setting up a button for evil x to find #despite the fact evil x was on good terms in the previous season #and in good fashion tag ends up with evil x going back on some habits of theirs although with less explosions and more stealing diamonds #you could say evil x did become evil again but i necessarily don't think so just because of the way he interacts with some of the hermits #okay but all that nonsense i said is just contradictions right? wrong! #okay sort of yeah but what does that say about them #1 wm already knows he's a hero and 2 without the right people ex will succumb to said old villainous ways #they both need each other. a friend really #evil x helps worm man see that he is a hero not just to himself but to others #which incidentally makes evil x fangirl over him from the one Christmas ep as he shouts worm man's name over and over #and as much as i would say worm man helped evil x see the goodness in themself i would more accurately say he helped them be themself #what i mean is only is wm present in s5 do we even hear/see the other stuff ex has done like sewing flower arrangements and baking #those qualities of ex are even shown in the worm man shop via bloodroses sewing patterns and cookies that THEY MADE #like they could've just presented merch similiar to wm like t-shirts or mug or heck those stupid journals with a logo on the front but no #i also wanna say that both wm and ex have never had an actual conflict or faced off despite both their roles being contradicting at a point #because as soon as ex does something bad to wm via imprisoning him it gets retconned after x stops the voice in their head #and despite ex putting him there wm doesn't see it #oblivious or not wm sees evil x as his sidekick. his friend #anyway if you read through all this wow kudos you deserve a cookie for my bs thank u truly <3

[sheliesshattered]

Cataloging all the HotD Daemyra fic ideas floating around my head that I definitely have zero time to write right now. In no particular order:

-First Of His Name: Realizing that he murdered his wife in pursuit of a male heir that died only hours later, that same night Viserys tells Daemon to look after Rhaenyra and restore the glory of their house, then khs in front of witnesses by stepping out the window Tommen Baratheon style. Suddenly Daemon is King, and the last line of support to Rhaenyra who lost her entire family in one day. The political mechanizations of those who want to see the Targaryen dynasty fall, a brewing war in the Stepstones, and the need for one or both of them to marry and produce heirs complicate Daemon’s long-held dream of being King. Slow burn from grief-comfort to ruling power couple.

-The Bed Is A Battlefield: One-shot set between eps 7 and 8, Rhaenyra explains to Daemon that she’s always had to keep her lovers secret for fear of what discovery would mean. But now that they are married and settled on Dragonstone with their children, she would like him to actually share her bed and not slip away in the small hours of the morning. Domestic fluff by way of Rhaenyra demanding what she wants like the queen she is.

-Vanity and Frustration: AU where Daemon and Rhaenyra marry in ep 5, and early in their marriage Daemon decides to start growing his hair out again. And as anyone who has grown out their hair knows, there are awkward stages to endure. Harmless harassment between newlyweds as Daemon grumbles about the state of his hair.

-The Last Dragon: 15 years ago, shortly after Daemon took Caraxes and fled to Essos to avoid a forced marriage to Rhea Royce, a coup executed by the Lords of Westeros resulted in the murder of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne and all their descendants, as well as nearly all of the dragons. There are rumors that a few Targaryens may have escaped, and some of the unclaimed dragons fled across the Narrow Sea to save themselves -- but all Daemon knows for certain is that he’s the last of his family he knows of, possibly the last living Targaryen anywhere in the world, the last dragon rider, and the rightful King of Westeros. 

But he knows he can’t take revenge all alone -- he needs heirs, he needs more dragon riders, he needs to rebuild the House of the Dragon to a force that can burn down all those who murdered his family. And for that, he’s in need of a wife. There are no legitimate Targaryens left, at least none living openly, but there are pale-haired violet-eyed descendants of Valyria to be found all throughout Essos. He simply has to find one he can craft into a queen and the mother to all future Targaryens.

After years of searching, his sources in Essos bring him “Neera”, an orphaned young woman raised in Pentos who has the right look and strength of will to fill the role, if only Daemon can convince her that she should want to be his wife and queen, that he is different from all the other men who have offered to pay someone else money for her maidenhead. Slow burn enemies to friends to lovers, to a complication as the truth comes to light -- the truth of Neera’s birth, and the mother who gave everything to save her from the fate that befell the rest of their family.

-Her Protector: A few years after Viserys marries Alicent, Rhaenyra is kidnapped from her bed in the Red Keep late one night. She is held captive by rough men who cannot seem to decide if they should ransom her or kill her or do something far worse, and in their indecision merely leave her locked up in a cell for long weeks -- until the glorious day that she hears the screeching of dragons overhead. Her uncle Daemon has come to save her, and kills everyone who took her, then carries her back to King’s Landing himself, never letting her out of his sight.

In King’s Landing, the people rush into the streets to see her, weeping to see the Realm’s Delight returned home alive, calling her Queen and throwing flowers at the feet of Daemon’s horse as they ride through the city with Rhaenyra curled in his arms, too weak to ride on her own, too anxious to get home to wait for a wheelhouse to be summoned. It is only then, at her insistence, that Daemon reluctantly reveals that Rhaenyra is in fact Queen -- her father was killed the night Rhaenyra was kidnapped, along with her step-mother and half-siblings. If only Daemon had been there, perhaps he could have stopped it, but he had been banished by Viserys yet again. Rhaenyra swears she will never banish him, and in fact she would make him her King Consort, if he will agree.

Years pass, and Rhaenyra recovers from her ordeal and grows into a strong, just Queen, with her husband Daemon always at her side. She has borne princes and princesses, the next generation of their house, and all in life seems to be exactly as she would want it. Until a sellsword, sentenced to death for his crimes, levels an accusation that it was Daemon who planned the kidnapping all those years ago that resulted in the death of King Viserys and Queen Alicent and their children. Who is Rhaenyra to believe? The convicted murderer seeking to gain her ear by spinning an unfortunately true-sounding story? Or her husband, her uncle, the father of her children, the man who rescued her all those years ago? And even if the sellsword’s story is true -- even then, could that possibly change how she feels about Daemon?

-Yet Another Mob Story: When the Targaryen mob family split over her father’s decision to marry outside the family, Rhaenyra sided with her uncle Daemon against her father and his new wife (her ex-best-friend). Years pass in a stalemate, until one day Rhaenyra sees Daemon’s new lieutenant Criston having lunch with Alicent and realizes that Criston is a spy sent by the Hightowers. She and Daemon devise a plan to get rid of Criston without letting the Hightowers know that they’re onto them. Really just PWP, with a little murder on the side, as a treat.

-Jane Austen Emma AU: The age gap is the same! I have no solid ideas for this one but that little detail makes me crazy!

-The Last of Us AU: I’ve posted about this once before, but the basic idea a modern apocalypse AU where Rhaenyra and her gay husband Laenor and their mutual husband Harwin (and their three sons) have to try to make it to the isolated bunker house of Laenor’s sister Laena and her husband Daemon (and their two daughters), and bad shit happens along the way but Laenor and Harwin are so determined to protect their sons and their wife that they sacrifice everything to keep them safe and get them to Daemon and Laena, up to and including their lives. Eventually Rhaenyra shows up on Daemon’s doorstep in half-feral mamabear mode, absolutely willing and able to kill anyone or anything that threatens her sons, only to find that Daemon has recently lost Laena and is similarly ready to murder to protect his daughters, and they have to come to a hesitant and wary understanding and then eventual partnership and co-parenting of their collected children. Maybe Targaryens naturally run hotter than most people, so are immune to the zombie fungus?

-Dragonriders Of Pern AU: Meleys, queen dragon of Weyrwoman Rhaenys, has laid the golden egg that signals the impending birth of the next queen dragon. Daemon (or D’mon for you Pern purists), rider of bronze Caraxes, is sent on Search to find young women to be candidates for the hatching of the new queen. In the company of other bronze riders, including Corlys and Laenor, he returns to the Hold where he grew up, where his older brother Viserys is now Lord. There he meets his niece Rhaenyra for the first time, a young woman of strong will with a natural talent for the telepathic communications of dragons. When she speaks to Caraxes as though his rider hardly existed, Daemon knows that Rhaenyra is destined to be the next weyrwoman. And as he trains her in the ways of being a dragonrider, it slowly dawns on him that he would allow none but him to stand beside Rhaenyra when Syrax’s first mating flight finally comes.

Edit: omg I forgot one! This one is so clear in my head but so difficult to describe in brief, so I’ll keep it short:

-An Eye For An Eye: The night Aemond loses his eye, when Alicent comes at Rhaenyra with the Conqueror’s dagger, her downward slash hits higher than it does in canon, striking Rhaenyra in the neck in a life-threatening wound the maesters scramble to stitch before the Crown Princess’s life slips away. With what she fears might be her last breaths, she commands Daemon to protect her sons, and he swears to hear he will protect her family -- or avenge them if he cannot. While the maesters try to save Rhaenyra, Daemon sits vigil with Rhaenyra’s sons and his daughters, watching over them while they sleep and talking long into the night with Laenor. But when Rhaenyra, only barely mended, asks for Daemon to be brought to her bedside, Aemond decides that his mother’s attempt at justice falls far short of his standards, and moves to exact his own revenge while Daemon is away...

#Daemyra #Daemon and Rhaenyra #Rhaenyra Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen #House of the Dragon #HotD #my writing #my fanfic #or rather the ideas I hope to maybe turn into fanfic eventually #right now I am so busy with work and cosplay sewing that I've barely been able to do more than jot a few words down here and there #please DON'T use these as prompts #or at least message me to talk about it first if something strikes an idea in your mind #some of them are general enough that there's plenty of room for other interpretations #but some of them are pretty specific and I'm really attached to #you know how it goes #tho honestly how there aren't more Pern AUs in this fandom is a mystery to me #but do feel free to message me! #either about writing something similar or to talk about these ideas or to chat about Daemyra in general #I'm full of Daemyra brainrot and short on time to write #2023 mood #I suppose

[link-lonk]

Sometimes I think about the dumb shit I did when I was 14 and it's still just like... why the fuck did I do that?? Literally why did I think that was good idea it makes no sense?? But 14yo me did it anyway

#radiostatic.txt #this is specifically about the time I cut open one of my sister's stuffed animals to get the stuffing out of it #so I could use it for something else #there was zero reason for me to do that. I could have asked my mom for stuffing. she would have gotten it for me #but instead 14yo me decided the most logical course of action was to steal one of my sister's stuffed animals and cut it open #I cannot come up with a justifiable reason for why I did that. #to my knowledge no one knows that I did that. I remember I tried to sew it back up but my sewing skills weren't great #and I put it back in my sister's room and eventually someone noticed that it was coming apart but they don't know it was me #.... Idk where it is now but I know we still have it. I should try and find it and actually fix it now that my sewing skills are better #idk why I remembered this now but yeah 14yo me was fucking stupid

[be-good-to-bugs]

im switching bedrooms tomorrow im so excited!!!

#the bin #ill have drawers to hold my stuff #unfortunately i wont have a surface to use my sewing machine on yet. i wanna sew stuff very badly now that i have fabric n stuff #i will probably just move the living room table into my room for a time so i can start sewing some stuff #i do need to get an iron. i keep forgetting that all my sewing stuff besides the machine is all still in ohio #i got new fabric and scissors and stuff but my iron and ironing board and pins and a ton of fabric and stuff i dont have #i hope i get my stuff back. i dont even know what kind of state its in at this point. my sister was living in the room and totally trashed #it so im worried a lot of my stuff might be ruined. and if not because of that then it could of gotten moldy too. idk #i wish i had the money to go taake a trip there but alas. my sisters new car costs way more for gas so #i think im gonna start pushing her to figure out how much we would need for the trip and how long so i can save up that amount #i really need to go there and get all my stuff. i try not to think about it but it stresses me out so fucking much #it sucks that i didnt get time to move properly. just got thrown into moving with very little notice #part of me regrets it a lot but i didnt really have another choice. well. i hope good things will come eventually. #well. ill probably try to saw something soon. i wanna try making a skirt. i hate elastic so im gonna make it a tie skirt #i have one i really like so im just gonna make a lattern from it. idk if the fabric i have will look pretty for it tho

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Dirty Dozen (ft. +2)

GN! MC x Pervert! OM Characters

(Cause y'all seemed to love the first one omg. Also TW: I made everyone wayy more sleazy and nasty than before so read at your own risk. MInors DNI)

Pervert! Mammon who likes to ask you for something specifically when your hands are full. "MC, lend me a few Grimm could ya?" He asks when you're in the middle of cooking.

"My hands are covered in cake batter, just take some from my back pocket."

"Are you sure it's there? Let me check both pockets." He isn't so much searching for coins as much as he's feeling and practically groping your ass. Seriously you start to wonder how it's taking him 20 minutes to find something that's right there.

Pervert! Solomon who keeps his room colder than usual when you come over for magic lessons.

"Is it too cold for you MC? I apologise, I kept it this way because some of the potions have bad reactions to heat but if you'd like-"

"I'm absolutely fine, Solomon. You worry about me too much." You smile at him reassuringly, not noticing how his eyes are so eagerly trained at your nipples perking up through your thin t-shirt.

Boner Bonus points if you allow him to hug you for some warmth. His fingers will definitely brush against your chest more than once.

Pervert! Beel who seems to make a mess whenever he's trying to help you in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry, MC. I didn't mean to spill it on your hands!"

"It's okay Beel, it's just some cream and syrup. I can just wash it off right away."

"But it's such a waste. Please allow me." He starts to thoroughly lick your fingers and you shake your head and let him knowing his fixations on food.

But he can't help it - you taste so good. He secretly wonders what you might taste like down there, drooling at the thought.

Pervert! Levi who has taken to sitting on pillows Japanese style while gaming and offers you the same. Sure enough you don't even suspect an ulterior motive.

"Did you get inspired by some human world anime again? Careful though - your legs and butt will start to cramp after a while."

"MC you're too gracious! Caring so much for an otaku like me!"

After you leave, he promptly takes the pillow you were sitting on and puts it in his bathtub. He's going to sleep on it ofc. Your scent on it helps him jerk off better.

Pervert! Belphie who now asks you to rub his belly till he falls asleep. "What's so funny?" He asks as you giggle at his request.

"Since when do you need help falling asleep?"

"I care about the quality of my sleep. And I sleep better this way."

Fortunately you believe him and don't suspect that it's because it's the closest he can get you to fondling his dick. He has such a difficult time holding in his moans and hard ons, every time your hands go even a bit lower than usual.

Pervert! Barbatos who got into sewing clothes as a hobby and specifically likes making them for you now. But you never understand why he needs to take same measurements over and over again.

"Oh? This is a different kind of design, MC. So the measurements will vary from before."

"Always making new things aren't you? You never fail to suprise Barbatos." You smile at him admiring.

The tightening of the tape around your chest and crotch are subtle. He can hardly keep it together when you praise him after all. But he has to if he wants to skim his hands over your body like this again.

Pervert! Diavolo who takes you on such long drives that you always doze off in the front seat, waking up apologetic for missing so much of the journey.

"Hahaha, it's okay, MC. We've been on this same road lots of times. I assure you, you didn't miss anything. And I like that you feel safe to sleep in my presence."

"But still, I'm so sorry, it feels disrespectful..." You apologize, not even knowing how hard he is in his pants right now.

Afterall, he can keep squeezing your beautiful thighs, maybe let his hands wander between them and imagine himself fucking you in the back seat as much as he wants, when you're asleep.

Pervert! Simeon who will have noone except you as his muse for art classes. And the themes just keep getting more erotic each time.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, MC? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable-"

"Nonsense, Simeon. I feel super comfortable if it's you. You're a true artist after all." You say as you lay on his bed wrapped up only in bedsheets, exposing your entire back and legs.

If only you knew, this angel has thoughts dirtier than most demons. How he's practically fucking you with his eyes. How he's definitely going to jerk off into those bedsheets, moaning your name.

Pervert! Satan who loves teaching you things - standing right behind you, guiding your hands to make latte-art, or trying a new style of painting.

"That's it, nice and slow. Look how much you've improved, MC." He beams at the cute kitty in the coffee cup.

"All thanks to you, Satan. I can't wait to learn more from you." You smile at him earnestly.

He almost feels guilty for tricking you this way, but the way your hands feel in his, and your ass feels against his groin is so addicting. One of these days, he wishes could teach you to be on all fours and take his length in your pretty little mouth.

Pervert! Asmo who loves keeping your eyes on him and noone else. From elaborate performances to petty staring contests, he cannot have enough of your gaze.

"Oh you're turning red in the face, Asmo. Did I manage to flutter the heart of the Avatar of Lust?" You lean forward smiling.

"You're my only weakness after all, MC. It's your fault for making me this way." He almost moans.

You laugh and mock apologize at his antics but you don't know he's been grinding like an animal on his seat, and creamed his pants under your innocent gaze. Your undivided attention just turns him on so much.

Pervert! Lucifer who makes his desires too obvious sometimes. He'll regret it in the morning and take you to dinner to apologize but not until he's already done something dirty.

"Lucifer, it's 2 am. You need to throw away that coffee and sleep." You're practically dragging him to bed.

"Fine. I'll go sleep if you'll stay in my room tonight." He says knowing you'll comply. You care too much for your own good. He's not even going to let you sleep on the couch, no you have to stay wrapped up in his arms.

You might wake upto him groaning your name in his sleep and you might mistake it for a nightmare - not knowing how he's balls deep inside you in his dreams.

Pervert! Thirteen who likes how excited you get over her newest inventions and keeps making more things to call you over.

"And this little baby and can throw pie at people's faces without ever missing. Guaranteed headshot." She smiles proud.

"This would be so useful in a cafeteria food fight and then get banned right after its glory. But I so wanna use it!" You whine.

She loves how much you appreciate her inventions. She is secretly working on a 'pleasure' device scented like her to give you - she hopes you'll like it just as much.

Pervert! Mephisto who is actually taken aback by your duality. You're such a mischievous little imp usually but turn so well-mannered in front of Diavolo's esteemed guests.

"So even you can be prim and proper sometimes? If only you could maintain this on the daily." He huffs.

You laugh and mock-bow in front of him. "Of course, anything for you my dearest lord. Would you like to dance with this proper human while you can?"

He blushes at the sudden offer. Why you little- how dare you tempt him like this. You can't complain about him gripping you somewhere improper or too tight. You deserve this for your attitude.

Pervert! Raphael who is still navigating new feelings of lust he's never felt before he met you. Why his heart skips every time you fall asleep on his shoulder or why he felt a sudden warmth at the pit of his stomach feeling you breath so softly into his neck.

"Thank you for helping me tidy the classroom, MC. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were."

"That's alright. It's more fun with two people anyway and wait Raphael there's a bucket over the-" The fresh bucket of water already spilled splashing all over both of you.

You immediately fetched a towel to help him dry up but he couldn't stop staring at you instead. With the uniform sticking to your body like and the water glistening on your exposed skin - why was he so enthralled? Why does he feel a strange pulsing between his legs as you hover over him?

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me thirteen #obey me Raphael #obey me mephisto

[vivwritesfics]

Just need need need a fix abt giving bf!Landon a bracelets that is literally just a bra strap and he wears it to the Ausgp and at first no one notices cz he wears so many bracelets anyway!! And then Oscar is the first to notice and he thinks it’s cute but still makes fun of him for it haha. And then the internet finds out and Lando and reader just cuddle in bed together laughing bc the internet thinks they’re insane/ freaky.

bf coded lando is my favourite lando

"It's bwoken!"

Lando had heard that far too many times since their relationship had started. Any time something in their apartment broke, she'd shout it. At first he rolled his eyes, but he had come to love it.

He stood from his rig and walked into their bedroom. "What is it this time?" He asked as he sat on the bed and looked at her.

With her bra fastened, holding her boobs in place, she showed him the strap. It had snapped away from the back of the bra, handing down off the front.

It was maybe the oldest bra she owned,. She'd had it before she and Lando started dating, when they were just fucking. She'd worn it the first time they were together, back when it was actually nice. Now it served as a reminder of where she and Lando had come from. She kept it out of sentimental reasons.

But now it was broken, and she was so fucking upset about it. "Love," Lando said as though she was being ridiculous. But he saw the pout on her face and opened his arms. "C'mere."

She collapsed into his arms and he unclasped her bra. "We can frame it, if you want," he said, and she slapped his arm.

"Lan, we're not framing my bra," she said as she pulled away from him and dropped the bra into the bed. She got changed into another, grabbed the broken one, and took it to the kitchen.

They had the sewing kit in there. Neither of them were meant to be seamstresses, but they had the kit there in case the needed it. It seemed now, they did.

Lando went back to the sim as she sat at the kitchen table. She used the stitch picker to cleanly get the strap away from the bra. They were going to keep it, at least a part of it.

Lando couldn't help but wonder what she was doing while he raced on the sim. But, even with his mind somewhere else, he was still doing incredibly clean laps.

Maybe ten minutes later she came running into the room. "Hold your hand out," she said as she strode towards him.

Lando did as she asked. He paused mid race and held out his arm towards her. She slid whatever it was onto his wrist and tightened it. As soon as she let go, Lando held it towards his face. "Is this..."

"The broken bra strap? Yeah," she said.

Lando grinned. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her closer, kissing her quickly. "I love it," he said. "I'll never take it off."

And Lando didn't take it off. Even when the F1 season started, he was still wearing it. Nobody noticed at first. Well, maybe their were a few comments online, but they were overshadowed by comments about his facial hair.

But then Oscar picked up on it.

It was the middle of an interview when Oscar saw it, the red strap highlighted against the microphone. "What the hell is that?" Oscar asked, tapping the microphone against the 'bracelet'.

Lando blushed red and looked at his shoes, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from the camera. He cleared his throat, steadied himself and held the microphone back to his lips. "My girlfriend made it for me."

Oscar, who hadn't forgetten the 'girlfriend' comment from before the season had started. He grinned as he held his microphone up. He had one, single word for Lando.

"Simp"

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[queenofcoquette]

healthy habits i love :)

introduction:

hi loves! i wanted to share some healthy habits that i really enjoy for my body and my mind. these are things that make me feel better and work with my life :)

physical health:

staying active. i have practice for 2 hours on weekdays and like to do home workouts using small dumbells or just pilates on weekends.

stretching. stretching is so important to prevent injuries, improve mobility and balance.

eating 3 meals a day w/ fruits and vegtables.

taking vitamins. i have anemia so i've been taking iron tablets everyday w breakfast to help.

drinking enough water. i always track how much water i have- i usually drink a whole water bottle at school, 70ish% of one at practice, and more water at home.

having a skincare routine.

having a haircare routine & learning to style my hair.

at-home face massage. theyre just really relaxing

mentality/mental:

planning for the future. i like to think about what i'm doing after graduating high school (college) and how i'm going to get into my dream college. i make a plan to follow.

avoiding drama. honestly there's not much drama at my school to begin with, but either way i just avoid talking shit about people

reading! i read every night and when i finish my schoolwork and have nothing to do. it's relaxing

learning about current world events. i also like to stay up to date on what's going on in the world. it can be really sad but i think it’s important to be aware of what happens.

praying. i pray every night and i find it really peaceful and a way to be grateful by thanking God for all sorts of things in my life. sometimes i'll also just pray if i'm anxious, before a water polo game, or really whenever i feel like i should.

gratitude & reflection. i like to reflect on how i'm acting and also remind myself of everything to be grateful for. sometimes really small moments, like when i was getting my braces tightened i thought about how i'm lucky to even get to have dental work done.

journalling. i have a diary i write in every night which is just for fun, and then a spare binder w some lose paper where i vent when i'm feeling bad.

having hobbies. i like to keep myself busy so i have a lot of things i like to do at home like writing, reading, photography, sewing.

having a clean space. i keep my room clean (nothing on the floor, everything where it needs to be) and cleaning my backpack just so everything is easy to find and get.

beginning:

the key to growing is literally just doing small things everyday. overnight change is never attainable. if you want to add different habits/change something you need to make small, attainable, adjustments everyday.

do the best with what you have. this is the biggest point. there are certain things you might not be able to do because of your circumstances, so just do the best with what you have right now.

self respect. and of course, healthy self improvement is based in loving yourself and wanting to be better for the sake of improving your life. this is a whole journey within itself.

#that girl 2024 #that girl #self improvement #pink pilates princess #it girl #healthy habits #self care #queenofcoquette

[feyascorner]

Astarion is such a girl dad nobody can tell me otherwise.

Would he be a responsible parent? Maybe. It depends on which act we’re looking at. He’d give her a doll and then a pretty knife for her birthday. But gods if he doesn’t absolutely wreak havoc with a little version of himself…

You would walk in on him having a tea party with his daughter, makeup messily smeared on his face and parts of his hair tied with pink rubber bands. He looks ridiculous crouched on a tiny chair, but he takes this tea party very seriously. Your daughter does too, it seems, as they chat about some imaginary society of stuffed animals and gossip about which stuffy was rude to another.

He’d also let her play dentist on his fangs, lying on the sofa while feigning a toothache so his daughter can “treat” him with random tools around the house. If you weren’t terrified she might accidentally cut herself on how sharp his teeth are, you’d think it’s adorable.

And when I say this man dresses her, I am not over exaggerating. He teaches her early on how to do basic sewing and adjustments to her clothes, but he’s also loves to buy her little frilly bows and such that he knows she’ll like. Dresses, scarves, gloves, you name it. He loves putting on a show, so why should his own daughter walk around in dreadfully boring clothing?

On one of the occasions you join in on their tea parties, he steps out of the room for a few minutes to grab something. When he returns, your daughter is fast sleep in your lap, and you smile down softly at her. The sight makes his chest swell.

“I think she has your nose, darling,” he says as he sits down beside you.

“Has your sass, though. I caught her staring at herself in the mirror the other day too.”

He snorts and you finally lift your head to look at him. His eyes flit back and forth between you and your daughter, his features gentle. “Do you blame her? Who wouldn’t want to take after all this?”

You stifle a laugh, careful to keep from waking her. Brushing the hair out of your face, he plants his lips to your forehead while soft snores come from down at your lap.

“I fear I’ll mess up with her,” he whispers against your cheek.

You shake your head, leaning it against his shoulder. “You won’t.”

Somehow, he feels himself trusting your words. He’s always found it easy to do so when it came to you.

#is this OOC maybe #idc I need fluff #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

[starswallowingsea]

i keep all my madashu thoughts in my dms with kiki but i am constantly wanting to post them on here. do you know how much the cowboy au we've written up rotates in my mind?

#i need an excuse to talk about it publicly someone ask about it (joking joking ahaha..... unless) #its so. its based on that one tumblr post where the cowboy stops by and just asks for a place to stay and plate to eat for the night #and they send him to the barn and the unmarried son of the homeowners is sent out with the food #and it ends w like 'maybe it wasnt the touch of a woman i've been longing for' or smth along those lines #and anyway madara is the roving cowboy obviously except he gets hired by shu's family #to like repair their fence or smth and they make shu help him bc he's the unmarried son and has too feminine hobbies #and they're hoping madara rubs off on him but instead shu just stands there while madara is working #and madara makes a comment about it being super hot out and how he's sweating a lot and shu reluctantly gives him a handkerchief to wipe #off his sweat with and madara is like oh you guys must be rich to be able to afford something like this #and shu goes actually i made it myself and madara is impressed and he's like woah you've got a talent here #and shu is like. having a mental freak out internally bc nobody has ever complimented his work like that and he's just #constantly made to feel bad because he likes to sew and wants to be a tailor #but he loves intricate laces and stuff and not just like. normal tailor stuff #like the locals will ask him to fix up their clothes and he'll do it #but he would rather design costumes for the local theater troupe but his family wont let him #anyway madara keeps complimenting shu like this while they're forced to be together fixing the fence #and on the last night shu's family actually invites madara inside for supper and he steps out to do something #like. just get a drink or feed his horse or smth the details can be worked out later #and he overhears how shu's parents talk to/about him when madara's not in the room #bc they want to be polite company of course they arent gonna berate shu in front of their guest #but that night shu comes out to see madara in the barn and madara's like yknow you dont have to put up with this #you can leave. you shouldnt stay with people who make you feel like shit (spoken from experience) #and shu is like. i know but i dont think i could survive on my own and etc etc #they end up running away together in the middle of the night. #thats as far as we got amsdpiofjasdpofia but yeah. yeah #constantly rotating these two in my mind #shay speaks

[luveline]

hi, i’m not sure if your requests are open, forgive me if not, but i’ve been thinking about bombshell!reader and spence lately. not sure if you’ve written this already or something similar, but how about them sharing a room on a case? similar to alaska.

fem, 1k

Spencer predicted the outcome of the roommate situation fairly quickly. Ignoring whatever data he might have in his head about the team, Spencer was always going to end up sharing with you tonight, because the universe hates him, and because you quite like him. 

It's nice to be someone first choice, if nothing else. “Me and Spencer will share, obviously,” you say, holding out your hand for a keycard. 

Hotch passes it over without complaint. He doesn't have to say keep it professional, you will (ish), and he doesn't have to ask Spencer if he's okay with this arrangement. Despite endless exhausting teasing, everyone knows that you and Spencer are actually friends. Or, he thinks you are. 

You certainly feel quite friendly as you hike your bag higher up your arm and sew the other arm through his. “Let's go. I'm so tired I might fall asleep on the way there.” 

You don't look tired. Spencer struggles to understand how every emotion you wear suits you. How every time he looks at you, you're prettier. He read a book recently on human attraction, and less factual but perhaps his most strongly believed takeaway from the book was that a person grows more attracted to the person they're attracted to, like a loop, or an ouroboros snake eating its own tail, forced over and over to make the same stupid mistake. What is he doing? Does he really think this is a good idea? Is he in love with you? How couldn't he be? You walk arm in arm to a room you're going to share and you don't care that he smells sickly of arnica and deodorant mixed together. You ignore the dark circles under his eyes, dark circles you never seem to have, always so perfect, always so you. 

“This one?” you ask, coming to a stop. “Room… 108?” He takes your bag and you smile gratefully, inserting the key, and legging open the door. “Tada. Home sweet home, Dr. Reid.” 

The hotel room is small and stale. Clean, sure, but questionably, with yellowing furnishings and sparse furniture. There's a double bed, two nightstands, a cubby bathroom close to the door, and a single chair near a small free standing countertop opposite of the bed, hosting a microwave and cups with hot chocolate sachets. 

“Wow,” you say, beaming, immediately breaking for the bed. 

“Wait, wait! We have to check for bed bugs.” 

You hold your hands up in surrender. 

Spencer peels the sheets back and uses the little torch on his keychain to investigate the mattress while you sit on the floor, one leg crossed beneath you and the other stretched in front of you as you sort through your clothes. You hum as you fold a shirt cleanly and make a pleased sound that may prove to give him indigestion as you unearth your pyjamas. 

“Spencer, can I shower first? Do you mind?” 

“I don't mind.” He turns off the torch, satisfied. “Thank you. For letting me check without being annoyed.”He says the second bit quieter than he means to. 

“Why would I be annoyed?” you ask, standing up in a whirlwind of pistachio perfume. Low notes of something sweet and caramelised haunt him as you drop your hand on his shoulder. “I'm gonna shower really fast, I swear. Should we get dinner? I bet we could order something to the front desk.” 

“I'll see if they have any menus.” 

Sitting in bed with you, later, showered and fed and drinking microwaved hot chocolate from paper cups together, Spencer has a strange flash of pleasure. Talking to you, seeing you with your hair in its protective style for the night, your skin shining with lotions and serums, and to have the revelation that you really do have dark circles under your makeup, it all feels private and special. Because you're still undeniably beautiful, and you act like he's worth sharing that with. 

He feels overwhelmed, in all honesty. 

You can sense it. You do your best to calm him down. 

“Finish your drink, babe,” you say, knocking him on the thigh with your knuckles. “It was a really long day.” 

“I'm fine.” 

“Yes, you are.” You giggle at yourself. “Sorry, I'm being serious tonight, I decided.” 

“Why?” he asks, puzzled. 

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You don't.” 

You put your hot chocolate on the nightstand and sink back into the pillows, looking every bit a movie star as usual despite your fresh face. It's your expression, the confidence behind them, that makes you so beautiful. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask. 

He looks down into his hot chocolate, swirling the drink around and around. “You're beautiful.” 

It catches you off guard. You're quiet for too long, panic festering in his chest. 

“You are too.” You put your hand on his thigh. When he brings his haze to your face, you've closed your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Wanna brush my teeth for me?” 

“No.” You both laugh. “Sorry if that was out of the blue, before.”

“I say worse to you,” you say. “Lay down with me. We can snuggle.” 

Spencer lays down. You don't snuggle, but your hand stays pressed to the side of his thigh, and the smell of your perfume lingers despite your shower. It must've been caught in your hair. 

“It's weird,” you say, facing the ceiling, “I'm not tired anymore.” 

“It's called learned arousal.” 

Your laugh is a shock. “Oh, is it now?” 

“Not like that. Are you thinking about work? If you think about certain things while you're in bed, it starts to make it so you think about those things on instinct. You've conditioned yourself.” 

“I don't think so,” you say. “Well, maybe. Mostly I just think about you, Spence. And not like that.” You laugh again, so much laughter Spencer could conjure the sound from memory alone. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I promise I'm not trying to harass you.” 

He stares at the side of your face. “I know what you mean. I think about you too.” 

“Well, good to know I'm not in this torture alone,” you say softly. 

It is the worst night's sleep of Spencer's life, but he thinks he might want to do it again. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

prolouge (masterlist for series)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: (proof read once !!) mentions of death, you and Coriolanus being oblivious, fluff, twinge of jealousy, angst, italics are flashbacks, (let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 2k +

a/n: it’s been too long since i’ve written something. let’s hope this series does well :)

You and Coriolanus were given an ultimatum. Well, more like Coriolanus was given an ultimatum.

Ever since you were born, your father and mother wanted the best for you. Especially your father. Being born in a family belonging to the Capitol, you were already lucky, in a way. You were essentially being given everything on a silver platter. However, you were always in an optimistic mindset, even when the first Rebellion started. Your mother was the one keeping your family happy and looking on the bright side, but when she died during the Rebellion, your father completely shut the world out, including his own daughter. When the world returned to a sort of functionality, the first Hunger Games started up. As an eight-year-old with no mother, you relied on yourself and the help your father hired around the manor. Heading to school, you walked with your caretaker and occasionally the Snows joined you.

Your family used to be close with the Snow family. You remember them coming over for dinner parties and playing with their only son, Coriolanus Snow. It wasn’t until your father heard about what happened to them in the war he left them behind as the Capitol built up again. You, of course, always stood by the Snows. You visited them as much as possible growing up and when you reached Academy, you and Coriolanus became closer than ever.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” You ask, chin propped on his shoulder.

He smiled at you, “I’m trying to write my paper for English, but you are so distracting.”

You frown jokingly, “Sucks for you, I finished mine already.”

“Nice to know.” He murmured as he scribbled down a few more sentences.

You watched him for a bit before getting up, walking out of his room to find his cousin. You were always interested in her amazing skill for clothing, but another thing was on your mind at the moment.

“Tigris?” You call out, finding her sitting at the table at the front. She hummed in response, carefully hand sewing a beautiful dress. “I need advice.”

“About?”

“Well…” You take a seat across from her. “You’re a senior, right?”

“Mhm.” She pulled her dress up, looking a bit closer. You watch her focus shift from the dress to you after she placed her materials down. “What’s up?”

“You’ve like, you know… Dated someone… Right?”

“Where are we going with this conversation?” Tigris rested her head in her hands, watching your face redden. “Maybe I know where this is going. Do you like him?”

You flushed and looked down at the table. “Him who?”

“Don’t be scared, Y/N. What am I going to do? Tell my stubborn cousin? He won’t believe a word I say the second I mention your name.” Tigris spoke with an airy voice.

“Well—”

Coriolanus walked in, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I finished my paper, it didn’t take long.”

“Hey, Coryo.” Tigris smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Hi?”

“Did you know that your lovely little flower, here, likes—“

“Tigris!” You glare at the seventeen-year-old. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Oops.” She stood, wiping her dress from invisible dirt. “But, you know, out of curiosity… Coryo, do you like someone at school?”

Pink dusted his cheeks as he glanced down at you before looking at his cousin. “No.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “No?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet yours or Tigris’ eyes. She hummed and got close to both of you.

“My advice, ask them out before someone else does.”

As you both got older with the passing time, your crush on him intensified and vice versa. Tigris always asked if either one of you asked the other out, but you both always said no. On your sixteenth birthday, he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was during your third year in the Academy. Around that time, you became better acquainted with those in your class. Coryo would get jealous, but ever so subtly. Even if that meant leaving mid conversation with another one of your friends just to talk to you.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” Sejanus nudged your shoulder, handing you a small present.

“Thank you, Sej.” You take the gift and lightly put it in your bag. “I’ll open it later, I have a—“

“Hey, beautiful. Can I steal you?” Coriolanus appeared by your left, nodding at Sejanus.

“Coryo, I was just talking too—“

“No no, go ahead. I just wanted to give you your present.” Sejanus smiled.

“If you say so. I’ll talk to you later!” You call out to him, letting Coryo link your hands together. “I was busy.” You gave a joking pout.

“Yeah, well, I needed your attention.” He pulled you away, near the few cherry trees remaining at the Capitol. His tone sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but you pushed the thought away as he sat you down on a concrete bench.

“Okay, what is it?” You cross your arms and legs, looking up at him. “I promised my father I’d come straight home today.”

Coriolanus dug through his bag before handing you a small, rectangular box. You carefully took it from his hands, pulling at the small bow. You gasped at the contents of the box, a silver necklace with a rose pendant hanging at its center.

“Coryo… It’s gorgeous.” You gently took the necklace out of its container, taking a closer look. “How did you…?”

“I may or may not have found some odd jobs around the poorer parts to get money for this.” He shrugged.

You clutch the necklace in your right hand and give him the brightest smile you could muster. “I love it. I really do… Help me put it on?”

He took the necklace from your hand and unclasped it, adjusting it to your liking.

“You didn’t need to get this for me, you know? I like our usual birthday hang outs.” You say, feeling the cold from his hands emit onto your neck.

“I wanted to.” He clasped the necklace back together, bringing his head near your own. “You deserve the world.”

You turn your head, face millimeters away from his own. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before back to his piercing blue eyes which had done the same. Coriolanus held your face with his left hand, rubbing your cheek.

“Can I?” He whispered to you, earning a nod.

He pulled you close to him, planting a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

Quickly running out of air, you parted from him, eyes fluttering open to see him. You looked at his lips and lightly laughed, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip.

“Have I got something?” He asks, voice slightly breathy.

You hum, “Just a bit of my lipstick on your lips, nothing major.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into another kiss, this time, his free hand was on your waist. You made a sound of surprise before melting into the kiss as well, messing with the fabric in his suit.

“Be my girlfriend.” He says in between kisses as you ended up on his lap. “Please.”

“Of course.” You separated yourself from him, taking heavy breaths. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Then I’ll gladly be your boyfriend, Y/N Lovett.” He placed one last kiss on your lips. “Now, how much lipstick is on my face?”

“A lot.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his.

Over the next few months, you told Grandma’am and Tigris that you started dating. Both were happy, but Tigris especially. She would ask about your dates and occasionally made you dresses for them.

Yet, when your father found out about you dating Coriolanus, he simply disapproved. He hated the idea that you were dating someone from a family with no money, no more power to their name. Of course, no one else knew that except Dean Highbottom and your family.

Everyday was the same battle with your father. He always commented on your behavior after learning you were with the young Snow and refused to accept the fact that you two were dating without any benefits for his own family name.

Therefore, the ultimatum was created.

“You must tell Tigris to stop making me dresses.” You fiddle with the bow on the strap.

“Do you not like them?” He squeezes your hand, the warm breeze of the summer hitting the both of you.

You shake your head, “No! No, I love them. But I don’t think she should be spending all these resources on me. I offer to pay, but she won’t—“

“You don’t need to pay. You never do.” He stops your pace, looking into your eyes.

“Coryo…” You sigh, looking around you. Deeming it was safe, you continued. “You and I both know she shouldn’t be making these for me without pay. I should at least help pay for some of the—“

“Hey hey, look at me.” Coriolanus took your face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to pay for us at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“Get your hands off my daughter, Snow.” Your father demanded as he came out of the manor, both you and Coryo jumping at the man’s voice.

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed to your boyfriend, forgetting you were walking back to your home.

Your father clicked his tongue, “Come inside, we haven’t got all day.”

You hurry your steps to the porch of the manor, your father waiting for who knows what.

“You too, Mr Snow.” He beckoned the platinum blond over. “I doubt you don’t want to hear this conversation involving my daughter and your… Relationship.”

Your steps faltered at his words but you followed the butler into the living area, supposedly where your father wanted to discuss something. You sat on the lovers sofa as Coriolanus walked in with your father second. You gave a subtle gesture for him to sit next to you. Coryo took long strides to sit by you, still leaving a good amount of room because of your father.

“Tea?” He asked the both of you as the help walked in with a tray.

“Thank you, Em.” You take a cup of tea from her, setting it to the side.

“No, thank you.” Coriolanus waved her off a bit, hands kept to himself.

“Right.” Your father sat up straight on the couch opposite of you both. “About your relationship.”

A few beats pass.

“You both are comfortable with one another and that’s fine. But, Mr. Snow, you really aren't of any value to us at the moment.”

Your hand flexes at your side, suddenly angered by your father’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe, before the Rebellion, yes. But now, the Snows are nothing but rags disguised as designer material.”

“Is there a point to this, father?” Your eyes bore into his.

“Ah, yes. You see, I wouldn’t mind your relationship with my daughter at all if you were to somehow make your way back up. Let’s say, winning the Plinth prize. You win, I allow you to date my daughter. You lose, well, she’ll be arranged to marry another who will benefit the Lovett name.” Your father spoke with such a demeaning manner.

“Father, that’s not—“

“I’ll do it.” Coryo cuts you off, earning a wide eyed look from you. “I agree to those terms, sir.”

“Very well. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Snow.” He got up, taking his leave. “Oh, and Y/N?”

You look at your father, a permanent scowl on your face.

“I advise you to look for other suitors before I pick for you.”

Your father finally left the two of you, your eyes snapping to the blond next to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you out of your mind? Where has your brain gone?” You smack his chest in between every word before getting stopped by the male. “Let go of me!”

“You know I only agreed to it because I can do it. You know that.” He loosens his grip on your wrists. “I have healthy grades, I never miss a class.”

Your eyes gloss over, “You better win that Plinth Prize, Coryo.”

Coryo cradles your head with his hands, kissing the top of your head. “I’m not losing you. I never will.”

From that day onwards, it was a constant battle for him to be the best out of the best at Academy.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

(ask for taglist in comments or dm !!)

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#tbosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow icons #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow oneshot #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow fluff #fluff #lqveharrington #august’s works 🫧 #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x y/n #august’s srfs ❄️

[vasilissadragomir]

one of the most heart-wrenching things about thg universe is that you feel the loss of who each character would be outside the circumstances of their birth almost as acutely as you feel the loss of the characters themselves.

sure, we know what lucy gray and her family would be doing in a different world; she’d be dancing and singing and making music which defines a cultural identity. but what about the others? would haymitch have been a hilarious, loving father with a family had he not been forced to survive 47 other children’s brutal deaths? would finnick have been a charismatic and beloved actor, bringing joy to immeasurable people on his own terms? would beetee and wiress have worked together to develop technology to make it easier to connect loved ones far and wide? what would reaper and annie have given to the world, or thresh, or rue, or even coral or cato or glimmer or clove?

if katniss wasn’t half-starving and forced to spend each day hunting to feed her family, would archery be her true passion? or if she’d been a well-sustained little girl with access to art supplies, would she have spent her time sketching captivating dresses? she picks up ropes and making fish hooks quickly—could her dexterity have lent itself to knitting, sewing, or crocheting with vibrant yarns and fabrics? there’s so much evidence that katniss finds clothing inspiring and empowering, even when she dismisses it as frivolous. she likes being pretty, she just hates the circumstances under which she’s made to look pretty. cinna shows her that beauty has its own power, and there are several moments in her interactions with cinna and his designs that make me wonder who she’d be if she had space for art and creativity in her life.

conversely, peeta has had art in his life since he was a small child, but for him, art has always been entangled with his trauma. he could bake and decorate well because he learned from his mother, a mother who beat him his whole life. but his talent grows, not only as a survival tool in the first games, but when he paints rue on the floor of the training center before the second games. his art becomes not only a symbol of his trauma, but a means of resistance and solidarity. in a world where peeta’s intrinsic kindness and loving heart had been nurtured and welcomed rather than abused, could he have been a painter, helping people find collective meaning in the simple realities of life?

could katniss and peeta have still found each other in another world, a world without the horrors they were raised with, and bonded over their love of art? could they have been each other’s muses?

maybe they find their way to share art, after the events of mockingjay, as part of their process of healing and falling in love with each other. when they’re finally safe and have been for a long time, maybe katniss fashions peeta an easel for him to paint in their living room. after months of watching him gaze out the window and paint the changing leaves, katniss takes to knitting on a rocking chair in the other corner of the living room to steady her restless hands. they work silently as the days go by, quietly exchanging the things they’ve made to give each other the reassurance and love neither could ever fully convey with words.

and maybe one day, when they learn there’s a baby on the way due in midwinter, katniss takes a page from peeta’s sketchpad and starts to plan a series of sweaters and hats and socks she can knit for the baby. and peeta goes to the little nursery upstairs and starts working on a mural, so the baby will have something beautiful to look at every day. they work together to design the perfect baby blanket for their child, to ensure they will always be wrapped in a layer of protection and love by their parents.

but even if they find creativity and beauty in their lives after the end of mockingjay, the art they make will simply never be what that art could have been had they not faced what they faced. art comes from suffering, yes, but the human condition has so much suffering as is, and we’d never know what kind of art they’d make if they hadn’t experienced trauma of a distinctly sadistic and inhuman nature. but maybe their children, raised in a better world with love and protection and safety and joy and creativity and expression, will be the ones to create the art peeta and katniss never could.

#thg #the hunger games #hunger games #katniss #peeta #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #cinna #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #thg analysis #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #finnick odair #annie cresta #catching fire #mockingjay