#he was so fucking funny. he was so quick with the soundboard too

[damiel-of-real]

fanart of the guy i met in lethal company last night who exclusively communicated with a hl1 scientist soundboard

#blood #cw blood #he was so fucking funny. he was so quick with the soundboard too #this specific moment really cracked me up #dami's art #lethal company #lethal company fanart

[gimmeurtmi]

i cannot explain this emotion — han

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

tags: best friends to lovers, slight angst

warnings: swearing, wrote this on my phone so probs not formatted right, ji is a dumby in this one, reader is flirty.

inspo: the intro to chill (my beloved)

notes: this is my first skz fic so would appreciate your feedback and thoughts <3

{ wc: 3710 }

being best friends with han meant a few sacrifices along the way, like celebrating important occasions over facetime because he was working somewhere twenty thousand miles away, or it was having to take separate cars when going out so people won’t ask too many questions, and sometimes, it was spending the whole afternoon in the jype building bored out of your mind because jisung needed to work (and you enjoyed the quality time anyway.)

really you weren’t complaining, it was all worth it to be friends with someone as kind and as caring and as magnificent as he was. but you would never say anything as cringy as that to him- instead, you’d complain and complain about how bored you were.

“okay, the boys are coming in to record vocals so it’ll be more interesting now,” han promised you, smiling lightly as he dialed lee know’s number.

you liked watching the creative process, especially when it meant jisung had that crease in his brow he always got when he was concentrating hard on something, but who knew the creative process had to be this fucking long. jisung promised it wouldn’t take too long, but as soon as he recorded the first verse he told chan to delete everything and start from scratch.

when minho arrived at the studio, you gave him a big hug and whispered, “save me,” into his ear. he laughed big, his eyes disappearing into themselves as he gave you a quick squeeze on your hips. he asked what you needed him to save you from, using a term that sounded a lot like knight in shining armour and you giggled at him that jisung was keeping you hostage here.

“oh, is he?” he asked lowly, rubbing your shoulder lightly.

“yeah, i mean,” you sighed dramatically, “at least you’re here now so it’s better.”

minho smirked at you, popping up an eyebrow in a silent question.

“minho, can you focus?” han demanded in a sharp tone.

you quickly pulled away from each other and sat by chan and the soundboard, looking on as lee know sang and han gave him instructions and tips on how he wanted it to sound.

he was so specific, your best friend, he stopped lee know time and time again to get the note just right. you weren’t too musical yourself and you couldn’t tell much of a difference between what he did the first time and the fifteenth time—but only after so many times was han finally happy, claiming it was “just like he imagined!”

the sparkles in his eyes as he said that made your tummy do something funny, something you never felt before (and never because of han) and so you coughed lightly and focused on chan and the many sound waves on his monitor.

“right, i think that was it, lee know,” chan said excitedly. they clapped their hands together in celebration, and jisung leaned over to give minho a hug.

“your vocals sound perfect with the hook!” he exclaimed, smiling brightly at his friend.

minho’s face gleamed at that, bowing in acceptance of the compliment.

“right, get felix down here,” chan asked as he clicked a few buttons. jisung quickly called him, and you walked minho out with a smile and for a small catch up.

being best friends with one of the members meant you were close to all of them, and so you spent a few moments asking minho about the new choreography he was working on and if he was coming over for dinner during the weekend.

after a quick hug he had to go to practice a few more moves—just in time for felix to round the corner and spot you.

“y/n!” he smiled, pulling you into a hug and then back into the studio.

the pair of you entered giggling, chan smiling at you as he invited felix to sit down and listen to the guide track.

you were about to sit down on the sofa next to him, as felix was still holding your hand, but as you passed han he grabbed your waist and sat you down on his lap.

“hey,” you whispered at him as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“sorry it’s taking long,” he whispered in your ear—causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. you were sure it wasn’t that cold in the studio, they didn’t turn the aircon on unless absolutely necessary, considering the noises it made could be picked up by the mics.

why were you getting chills?

“don’t worry,” you said, placing your hand on top of jisung’s, the one that was resting on your stomach, “i’m having fun.”

“you weren’t having so much fun when it was just me and chan,” he said, and you could almost detect a whine in his voice.

“because you guys were doing boring things. now it’s fun,” you turned to him slightly, so you could see his pout and his shiny lips and how his cheeks looked chubby when he was making his pout bigger, “it’s cool watching you take control of everything and tell the boys how to do it right.”

han looked away from you. “just my job,” he shrugged.

“ooooh!” felix let out when the guide track was finished, “this sounds cool!”

jisung tapped you on your hips, a sign for you to get up, and you took your chair by chan again as felix downloaded the lyrics document onto his phone.

han explained what he wanted, and felix gave it a try, asking questions and making sure his flow was just right.

you watched as han’s eyes followed the lyrics closely, making sure each one was delivered correctly, his head bopping along to the beat they created only an hour ago, right in front of you.

then it was hyunjin’s turn, and then it was changbin, and one by one the members came in to record their vocals.

each time you were amazed by your best friend’s abilities.

this wasn’t the first time you’ve watched him do this—you even saw him create a whole song on his laptop while you were doing your makeup before going out to a party together. you’ve seen him do amazing things, but there was something about him correcting seungmin on his note delivery that made your brain implore you to jump into his lap again.

of course, you ignored that insane instinct and remained in your chair instead. but still, you watched as he told the lead vocalist how to sing his song in the best way possible.

you weren’t sure when you started doing it, but your finger was slowly moving against your lips as you studied han closer and closer. you weren’t even sure why you were doing it.

“y/n,” chan said, snapping you out of your daydream—that involved a lot more of jisung’s lap.

“yeah?” you asked, looking around them. chan laughed.

“we’re taking a break and then we just need to put everything together. food?”

“sure,” you got up, quickly making your way over to your best friend and grabbing his hand. “is there much left?”

“maybe thirty minutes,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “why?”

“no reason,” you shrugged, grabbing his bicep with your spare hand as the pair of you followed chan to the cafeteria. “just wanna cuddle you for a bit.”

jisung giggled, fixing the beanie on his head a few times. “we can do that while chan finishes everything.”

you grinned at him.

“you’re really talented,” you said, seemingly out of nowhere. jisung looked at you, his mouth a perfect o shape as shock took over his face.

“are you moving away or something?”

“what?” you laughed.

“you’re being so nice to me, wanting to cuddle and giving me compliments. is this the last time i’m gonna see you?” he asked, fake panic in his voice.

“it better not be,” you warned him, before you felt the need to say, “bro.”

“don’t worry, bro,” jisung said, his hand falling from yours as he sat down by the table, “we’re gonna be friends forever.”

for some reason you couldn’t explain, that sentence didn’t make you as happy as it used to.

later that night, after the track was finished and you fell asleep on the sofa in the studio, jisung dragged you back to their dorm.

by the time you made it back there, you were almost more sleepy than you were before, and the pair of you didn’t say much to each other as you silently took some of the spare clothes you keep in jisung’s closet and went to wash up. you’ve done this many many times before, and so, it wasn’t at all weird when you ran into hyunjin in the corridor, clutching your dirty clothes in your hand.

“yay,” he said silently as he saw you, “this means we’re getting pancakes in the morning?”

you laughed at him, even through your sleep strained voice, “only if you’re nice to me in the morning.”

“of course mrs. han,” he bowed at you. you shook your head at him, giving hyunjin a shove at the stupid nickname he decided to stick to you. it never bothered you before—but when he said it now your chest felt tighter all of a sudden.

with one final middle finger his way, you walked back to jisung’s room and easily climbed into his bed and under the covers. he then went out to wash up, the smell of him surrounding you and a sudden realisation your heart was beating so strong you could feel it in your ears.

what was happening?

nothing about this was out of the ordinary, it was so normal in fact that neither of you needed to talk about you sleeping over anymore—it was just so obvious.

why were you… nervous?

you didn’t have much time to think about it before jisung came back, the smell of peppermint strong around him as he sunk down under the covers, a hand routinely laying over your stomach.

you couldn’t help but wonder if he tasted like peppermint, too.

the thought scared you so much you jolted away from him, quickly turning your back to him to cover it up in any way you could (and the warm blush on your cheeks).

“are you ovulating?” he asked after a few minutes.

“what?” you nearly yelled, turning around to make sure he actually asked that.

“you’re just being super weird today, i thought maybe you’re stressed or hormonal or something. i have chocolate in the fridge if you want me to get some?”

“i’m not ovulating,” you said quickly, leaning back into your spot.

“are you in pain?”

“ji, it really has nothing to do with my period,” you shoved him lightly, rolling your eyes at his theory.

“then why are you being weird?” he whined, placing his hand back on your stomach now that he knew it was safe to do so, and nuzzling his face into your neck. you froze.

“i’m not being weird,” you said, your voice sounding nothing short of robotic.

“you are,” he pouted. “you’re not hugging me back and i don’t think i upset you so what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you promised him, bringing your hand around his shoulder to prove a point. his pout had turned into a smile, the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen on him. his eyes closed as he nuzzled closer to you, his smile reaching his cheeks. you couldn’t stop the whimper leaving your lips.

jisung’s eyes shot open.

“you are in pain,” he said, or more like demanded. he leaned up on his hands, hovering over you as he checked if there was anything wrong with you.

“it’s just… i just can’t really explain it.”

“chlamydia?” he said with the most serious nod he could master.

“ji!!” you yelled at him, slapping his chest a few times as he giggled at you.

“just tell meee,” he whined, shaking you lightly with the hand still on your stomach.

“no, you won’t get it.”

“please?”

“no,”

“pleeeaaaassssseeee—“

“—fine!” you yelled.

at that jisung smiled, shaking you again in excitement. he manoeuvred himself so he had his chin resting on both hands, his eyebrows high in curiosity.

“i have a crush,” you said quickly, before you could take it back.

“oh,” he said, his chubby cheeks sinking lightly. “minho?”

“um, no,” you said slowly.

“who? i can talk to them if you need,” he offered, a very small smile on his face.

“no, uh, no. forget i said anything.”

you quickly turned your back to him, your heart beating much faster than you believed was humanly possible as you took in a deep breath.

what the fuck were you thinking telling him something like that? han has been your best friend for years and you can’t throw that away because of a stupid crush. no. this was ridiculous.

“what if i’m ovulating,” he said, breaking the silence.

“you can’t biologically do that,” you explained calmly.

jisung hummed, moving closer to you again and draping a hand over your waist.

“well, i’ve been really hungry lately—“

“—you’re always hungry,”

“yeah, but i’ve been angry too. then i realised it was jealousy.”

your heart fluttered.

“jealousy?”

“every time one of the members talked to you today it annoyed me. do you get that when you’re ovulating?”

“ji,” you giggled, turning around to face him, “i don’t think that has anything to do with your non-existent uterus, and you’re probably just jealous your best friend gets all the attention.”

“i want you to want my attention,” he said, lowly.

you froze.

“goodnight,” he said, after what felt like five minutes.

“goodnight, ji,” you sighed, and for the first time ever the pair of you didn’t cuddle as you slept.

the next morning you made pancakes just like you promised hyunjin, but by the time you were done and called everyone for breakfast—jisung wasn’t there. you knew he wasn’t there when you woke up alone, but you figured he just went to work out. but by now changbin was back, saying, “jisung went out to do a few things, he wanted me to say bye to you.”

“bye?” you asked, as you gave the pancakes out into each of the housemate’s plates.

“yeah, we’re flying tomorrow to tokyo for some press.”

“oh.”

that’s the first time you’ve heard of them doing anything in tokyo this week—let alone tomorrow, but you simply nodded and ate your pancakes in silence.

you: ur not saying bye?

quokki: busy today. see you when we get back

you knew now you never should’ve told han about your crush. he must’ve figured out it was him and now he wanted nothing to do with you. you couldn’t explain why, but you would’ve preferred it if jisung could’ve just told you he didn’t like you that way than running away from you altogether. you much preferred rejection than not even getting a goodbye hug. but then—wasn’t this his way of rejection you anyway?

the boys got back from tokyo five days later, five days you spent without even talking to your best friend. that never happened before. jisung always made a point of calling you before bed or sending you pretty pictures of things he’s seen throughout the day that he wanted to share with you. sometimes he’d send you voice recordings to summarise his days or an event they just filmed. he’d always keep you in the loop.

not this time.

after five days, you knew they were back home because minho sent you a message inviting you to a nice dinner at his dorm with everyone. of course you happily agreed to come, excited to see your friends again. still, it was an ache you couldn’t explain when you realised jisung could’ve told you about these plans but he decided not to.

why was he giving you the silent treatment?

but jisung would be there tonight, and at least you’d get to see him, and maybe you’d find out his phone was stolen or broken or he has some sort of amnesia and that’s why he’s being the worst friend ever lately.

you wish you never told him about your stupid crush.

minho opened the door after a few knocks, letting you into the dorm with a smile and a quick hug.

“how was japan?” you asked with a smile, rubbing his back briefly before you pulled away.

minho told you excitedly about the food he had there, and about how he knows he’s getting better at the language because it was so much easier to understand people this time around, and when he moved aside to let you in you saw jisung sat by the kitchen island.

as soon as he saw you he rolled his eyes, mumbled of course to himself and grabbed his phone, burying his head inside it.

so he didn’t lose it.

you wanted to gasp at his reaction, you wanted to scream at him that he was a shitty friend, but you just stood there instead.

“do you know what,” minho started, looking between the pair of you, “i thought i was gonna pretend but i’m not. i’m leaving, sort it out.”

and then minho took his jacket and just left the pair of you together in the kitchen.

it was then you realised the other boys were definitely not there and minho wasn’t preparing any dinner.

you turned to leave, not wanting to stay in a room with someone who was clearly upset with you over something you can’t control, and grabbed the door knob.

as soon as you did, you heard a loud key turning from the other side of the door.

so he locked you two in here.

you turned around with a huff, making a beeline towards the sofa and plopping yourself down on it.

“sorry he left,” jisung said after ten minutes of silence. you knew it was ten minutes because the watch on the wall was ticking away happily—the only sound in the room until jisung spoke.

“okay?” you said, because you didn’t know what to say, and looked at him in curiosity.

“i’m sure you were looking forward to spending time with him,” he nodded in understanding.

“who?”

“minho,” jisung said, more or less defeated—as if in acceptance.

“what?” you sighed, “i was looking forward to spending time with my best friend, but i think he left too.”

“you don’t wanna spend time with your crush?” you swallowed deeply. was he really gonna make you stop referring to him as his best friend? was he that disgusted by it that he didn’t accept the title anymore?

“look, i don’t care about a silly crush if i’ll lose you over it,” you huffed out, running your hands through your hair, “i’ll absolutely ignore it and never say anything about it again and definitely won’t act on it, i promise. just please stop whatever you’re doing.”

you weren’t too proud to beg, and jisung meant the whole world to you. so yeah, you’d ignore these feelings that would soon pass if it meant your friendship would prevail.

“jagiya,” he sighed, a nickname he only kept for important moments, “i’m not asking you to do that.”

he got up, made his way over to the sofa and sat down right beside you. you wanted to leap into his arms and hold him for five days but you decided that might be breaking your promise so you held back instead.

“you should act on it! you should tell him how you feel and see what he says and you shouldn’t ignore it just for our friendship. our friendship can last anything, especially something like this,” he promised.

“act on it?” you had to ask.

“yeah, like, kiss him or something,” he shrugged, unable to quite look you in the eye.

“kiss?” you all but whispered. was he asking you to kiss him?

han knew about your crush on him and he was telling you to act on it. that your friendship would survive it. kiss him.

so you trusted your best friend’s advise (you always did) and leaned forward. you planted a soft kiss on jisung’s incredibly soft lips, kissed him for only a moment, then pulled away.

jisung sat frozen in front of you, his eyes gaped as his mouth sat in a small, surprised circle.

“oh,” he said after a moment, “oh! oh, oh. oh!”

“what?” your eyebrows knitted together, as jisung kept saying oh with his hands on his head.

“i’m your crush?!”

“who did you think my crush was?” you almost yelled.

“minho,” jisung yelled back.

“what? no! it’s you,” you got up, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it, “that’s why you ignored me this whole week and didn’t say bye after i confessed.”

“no!” jisung shook your shoulder back, “you started stuttering when i asked if it was lee know and when i said i want your attention you said nothing so you like him! i ignored you because i was too jealous.”

you slapped his chest. “jealous?”

“i was jealous of your crush,” he sighed, grabbing your wrist to stop you from slapping him again.

“you’re my crush!” you yelled, frustrated at how silly your best friend was being this whole time.

“i know that now!” he yelled back.

“am i your crush?” you kept yelling.

“how else can you explain my stupid reaction?” he laughed, trying to fight back your hands that were aiming to slap him anywhere you could find.

“you’re always stupid,” you accused.

“you’re stupid!” he maturely countered.

“kiss me again, then, stupid,” you giggled, not giving up on your attempt to shove at his chest.

at that, jisung giggled, before he let go of your wrists and snaked his hands around your waist.

he leaned down to press his lips against yours, softly and sweetly, before he pulled away again.

“so i’m your crush?” he asked again, just to confirm.

“if you stop kissing me again for a silly question you won’t be anymore,” you threatened, empty, but jisung took you seriously all the same, and quickly grabbed your cheek so he could lean into you easily.

you suppose this made up for the week you spent apart.

#skz x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #skz fics #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #skz x yn #han x yn #jisung x yn #all.works

[wheretheresaway-theresawilliam]

Chapter 41: The Horror Attraction [Epilogue]

Word Count: 859

TWs: Death mentions, gore mentions, unsanitary mentions

⛤⛤⛤

Getting hired at Fazbear’s Frights was just as easy as getting hired at Freddy’s had been, perhaps even easier. Michael was very glad the interview didn’t have to be in person. It had been a wild few years since he essentially died two deaths and kept living… he felt like a cockroach. Luckily, this was only a minor speed bump. He knew where his father now resided, and he knew he lived on, if only because other employees had claimed the haunted attraction was actually haunted.

He was also glad that the tradition of only having one nighttime security guard lived on, even at a partial museum housing valuables collectors would love to get their hands on. Frankly, the whole idea behind Fazbear’s Frights made him sick. How quickly some people had moved on from grief, disconnected from the horrific realities, and turned a profit from it.

On top of that, the place was cheap, practically as rotten as Freddy’s had been when it had been abandoned. Michael could’ve designed a better horror attraction with a blindfold on, his hands tied behind his back, and his only tools being a hammer and a bag of dry macaroni. Why people would waste their money on this experience, he’d never understand. It wasn’t long after he had settled into the office chair, covered in an awful, scratchy brown fabric, that he was reminded that he wasn’t alone. The lights buzzed and pulsed while faint whispers floated in Michael’s ears. He jumped when a familiar figure appeared on the desk.

“Michael???” Charlie tilted her head. She looked tired.

“Well, there’s no fooling you, is there?” He quipped, still tensed despite the welcome face.

“What are you doing here???” She slipped off the desk and stood. “I thought you died!”

“Funny story--”

“And why are you purple?? Is that a wig??”

“Slow down, Charlie!” He laughed dryly and began to explain what had happened to him, and where he had been since then. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you… it was stupid of me to go to Circus Baby’s that night…”

“Hey, it was your sister, it was only understandable… you couldn’t have known Norman was going to drop off SpringBonnie, either. I just wish you had told me your plans…”

“Because you’re still here. Yeah, I fucked up on that one…”

“And so is he, as well as the others. Got any new ideas?”

Michael nodded. “Why else would I be here?” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’m going to burn it all to the ground. My theory is, if I destroy what physically tethers you here, you’ll finally be able to move on.”

“Won’t you get charged for arson?”

“Hey, that’s only if I get caught. Besides, I’ve been legally dead for… four years, I think? They’d never suspect a corpse.”

Charlie grinned. “So, what name did you use this time?”

“Fritz Smith.”

She laughed. “What kind of name is that??”

“I don’t know, I saw it on the internet somewhere.”

“The internet??”

“Oh my God. That’s right, you’ve… completely missed out on where technology’s gone since the eighties… you would’ve been a bit too young… there’s not really enough time to explain, but I guess it’s like… electronic books? Anything you’ve ever wanted to know, in a newer, faster package. I use it sparingly, seems like too much power for one person in my opinion.”

“Huh.”

They both froze. Something was shuffling heavily towards them.

“Him!” Charlie hissed. “Quick, play a sound to distract him!” She pointed at the office’s soundboard, meant to be used to control all sounds and ambience in the attraction during the day.

“He’s not that stupid, is he??” Michael asked, briefly impressed.

“It’s not that, the suit reacts to noise and he can’t do anything about it. The guard before you figured that out at the last second… I’m not sure what excuse the owners gave as to why ‘Springtrap’ migrates toward the office at night, but it must be something that keeps employees from freaking out and quitting immediately.”

“Springtrap?”

“The new trademark. I suppose SpringBonnie isn’t that scary, now, is it?”

“I don’t know, I think its backstory makes it plenty unsettling.” He could see its shadow on the wall through the two-way mirror between the office and the hall. “I think I want to see what’s become of his sorry arse.”

“I promise you, you don’t…” She looked him up and down. “But I suppose you yourself are also a corpse. Good luck.” With that, she disappeared through the neighbouring wall, leaving Michael to face the demon that was his father. Springtrap lurched into view. The suit had fallen into complete disrepair, its foam and fur torn, the colours muted with age. Even its once charming bowtie was now nowhere to be found, discarded after years of mistreatment. Michael covered his mouth. He could see William’s punctured and misshapen innards through the holes in the suit, formed tightly with the metal structure within. He was thankful he had lost the ability to smell at this point, between himself and his father he was sure this place stunk like the depths of Hell.

#fnaf #fnaf fic #fnaf au #michael afton #charlie emily #william afton #springtrap #accursed heritage au

[redorich]

rating dsmp characters on whether i would fight them

Ant - claws?? no thanks

Bad - he'd kick my ass absolutely but it would be fun and he would be sportsmanlike. i might be able to get him with the pocket sand trick

Charlie - if i tried to punch him my hand would just sink into his goop and he would smile at me like this is normal

Connor - he's the only normal one but he does wear a sonic onesie in public which makes me want to beat him up. maybe i'd give him a swirly or smth lol

Dream - he would fucking kill me. i would much rather ruin his reputation by starting a rumor that he doesnt wipe his ass or wash his hands after he shits

DreamXD - i like living, thanks (hard pass)

Drista - i take every chance i can get to fight fourteen year olds. that being said i also dont enjoy being encased in bedrock. like i would still do it but just for the record it is a bad idea

Eret - no, if i hurt eret physically their disappointment would hurt me emotionally and it's just not worth it

Foolish - i feel like i could get in a few good licks before he starts to fight back so if im quick about it and i run away before he realizes he just got clocked i could probably get away with it

Fundy - this man SCREAMS prey. he has the vibes of a freshman. you wouldnt even have to prompt me i would just see this man walking down the street minding his own business and just mow his ass down

George - he's a good fighter but if i caught him while he is sleeping (which to be fair is 90% of the time) the satisfaction of kicking him in the ribs would be immense

Ghostbur - i would sooner strike myself down than hurt him

Hannah - damn, what a hell of a way to die o7

Hbomb (normal) - i'd spar with him because he looks like the kind of person who would make a neat noise when he hits the ground

Hbomb (catmaid variant) - absolutely not. she's girlbossing

Jack - same as fundy but like a little to the left. i'd stomp his ass for daring to be bald at me but then i would feel bad for discriminating against bald people. then he would open his mouth and say something to me and i would remember that i attacked him not because he's bald but because he's an idiot ❤️

Karl - he lives off of monster energy and bad decisions but so do i. the difference is that i could fold him like a table

Mexican Dream - i fear him

Michael - FUCK YEAH I'LL DROP KICK A CHILD I DONT GIVE A SHIT

Niki - oh no 😳 niki dont punch me in the face 🥴🥺 ahaha you're so girlboss and sexy-- [is murdered to death]

Philza - i could not step to this man but that wont stop me from trying. i'll have a soundboard full of baby zombie noises to throw him off his rhythm

Ponk - let's spar!! and then we can like make a really cool two-person kata to impress people with and charge people money to watch us fight because they dont know its fake

Puffy - short queen with a killer right hook?? ahaha i could never 😖🥺😡 ........ unless?? 🤪🥵🤤🥴🥰

Punz - same as ponk tbh

Purpled - he's a child and therefore it is not only my duty but my god given right to assault him

Quackity - he would be surprisingly competent but i could still take him.

Ranboo - too much main character energy, not touching that. he'll teleport behind me with a katana or something

Sam - "i am doing this out of my own free will" yeah and? im doing this because my meat is huge and you literally cannot stop me bestie

Sapnap - he would beat me in a fair fight but if i took off my shirt and my bonkhonagahoogs were in full view i think i could win

Schlatt - this bitch schlatt walks everywhere and has heart problems because he downs so much protein powder, idc how swole he is his spine is mine

Skeppy - made of diamonds???? i would have to trick him into knocking himself out but then bad would come for me. depends on how funny it would be

Technoblade - i would much rather team up with him to beat up someone else. he would be amenable i think

Tommy - he's also a main character like ranboo but he's just so punchable. i have to

Tubbo - kids got fucking nukes man, i may love beating up children and especially teenagers but i also enjoy not fucking dying

Wilbur (L'Manberg) - goody two shoes hero lookin headass. punch him

Wilbur (Pogtopia) - JD kinnie theater kid lookin headass. punch him

Wilbur (revived) - oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my g (his ass is grass and im finna mow the lawn)

#mcyt #dream smp #dsmp #me.cpp

[inkedtae]

Hey love can i request y/n at hoseoks studio and she's really horny but he's busy finishing a track for his album. But then he's like if you can get me hard then you can ride me type of shit. So she gets him hard and rides him. Then hoseok sitting occasionally moaning, groaning and thursting his hips up but still working on his track while she's getting herself off ~ spicy anon

warnings; soft dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, hoseok has a collarbone tattoo bc i’m a hoe for that, needy!reader, degradation, light ass play, a lil bit of spanking, begging, riding, shoulder-biting, extremely unedited

It nears midnight. He’s still hard at work. You dropped by a couple of hours ago with dinner, to which he quickly scarfed down then resumed editing. Usually, you’d leave him to his tracks. You’ve made sure he’d eaten and at least took one break, so you would typically let him tire himself out. 

Only today you couldn’t stop craving his presence. All throughout your day, you you yearned or his scent, smile, voice, laugh. You wanted to feel his his arms around you, his length in you. Yes, perhaps you’ve been feeling needier than most days, and it doesn’t help that you knew he’d be in the studio. He’s told you countless times that he can’t think of much else besides work when he’s working. However, this fact only makes you hornier today. 

It also really doesn’t help that the hoodie he “wears” is mostly unzipped and falling off his shoulders. The black rose vine tattoo around his collarbone is on full display, just begging for attention. You cannot deprive it for much longer. You will not be deprived for much longer. 

Rising from your spot on the couch, you tug on your sweater sleeves and make your way over to him. “Hobi,” you somewhat whine while pushing his hair back. The exposure of his forehead further obscures your judgement. Your cravings amplify.  

“Hmm?” His eyes remained glued on the screen. Brows furrowed and lips in a scowl, he doesn’t even spare you a decent syblal of his time. 

You pout. With a tug, tug, tug on his shirt, you mewl, “Hobi...”

He sighs, glancing at you long enough to know where this is going. He takes one of your hands and places a quick kiss upon it. “I gotta finish this track, baby,” he mutters into your hand. This is usually enough for you to give up, but the ache between your legs will not settle for anything short of his cock. 

“Please, Hobi, you’ve been working all day. You didn’t even ask me how my day was.”

Pursing his lips, Hoseok resists the urge to sigh. He looks to you, rubbing his chin. His eyes scan your features then figure, licking his lips when he finds notices the sudden press of your thighs together. A low chuckle escapes him as he smirks. “Is that what this is about?” He questions. “Hmm? Are you horny, baby?”

Flames alight your nerves. They thrash around your veins and heat your body up enough for your chest to somewhat heave. He’s barely done anything, barely even spared you a proper glance, and you’re already losing your breath. You bite your lip and nod. He laughs. 

“This isn’t funny! I’m horny and you’ve been here all day!”

You know he wants to laugh harder, but the glare you shoot him makes sure he doesn’t. With a sigh, he nods. “I’ll tell you what. If you can get me hard, you can ride me as long as you want.” 

“What if I wanna do more than just ride you?”

“Then, you’re just gonna have to get me hard enough.” 

With that, he turns back to his screen. You furrow your brows in confusion. How exactly are you supposed to turn him on when he won’t even look at you? You roll your eyes and tell yourself that you must be at least halfway there. You enthusiasm is usually enough to get him at least semi-hard. He likes an eager girl. But, even more than that, he likes a good ass. You have yet to flash your ass at him and not have his hands all over you instantly. 

You unbutton your jeans and push them off. Your panties follow as well, the cool air of the studio hitting your heat the moment it’s exposed. It makes you shiver with excitement. You can’t hide your smile as you watch him attempt to ignore you. That’s about to change sooner than he thinks. 

Turning around, you lift your sweater up enough to give him a full view of your ass. Now, all that’s left to do is applaud his dedication enough to convince him that’s enough work for tonight. You lean forward and clap your cheeks together. Then, once you heard that strangled gas escape him, you bend over and pull your cheeks apart. Soaked cunt on display, you hear him groan softly. 

“Shit, you’re such a slut. Get the fuck over here.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. Giggling, you hurry over to him and find that he already has his cock out. It’s hard, oozing precum, and ready to be drained. He seems to have been horny for a while and you begin to wonder if he was ever soft at all. 

His hands immediately settle on your ass as you hover over his lap. “Take a seat, baby,” he smiles. 

The glimmer in his eyes heats up your face. You inhale sharply as you lower yourself on his cock. The stretch already has your eyes twitching and mouth agape. 

Hoseok pecks your chin and kneads your plump flesh behind you. “Try to stay quiet, alright? I’m just about done with this track.” 

You nod, gasping quietly as your hips ground into his. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you attempt to keep your needy moans to a minimum. However, soon the pulse of his length and how far it reaches does not give you much of a choice but to scream. He’d smack your ass every time you whine his name too loudly, even if he is also letting out more noise than he should. 

Moans reaching dangerous levels of potential punishments, you latch your lips onto his shoulder. Kisses and little bites over his inked skin seem to be enough to pacify your mewls, but spur on Hoseok’s. He lets out a throaty groan upon the graze of your teeth. He thrusts up into you and whispers, “I swear once this is done, I’m fucking you against the soundboard.” 

[create a moment with me]

#anon #asks #create a moment with me #hoseok drabble #j-hope drabble #hobi drabble

[emotionally-imbruised]

Floating Along

A/N: Here’s a little follow-up blurb thing to Sink or Swim (lifeguard!harry) Enjoy :)

Contains: well, there’s actually smut in this one so...

Word Count: 4.6k

“Then, m’thinking if we bring this tune in,” Harry paused before pressing play on an instrumental recording he had helped produce earlier that afternoon. As the music started to play, he moved back to the soundboard sat on the table to his left and began adjusting the various knobs and dials on it to create a steady beat. “And tone it down a little bit, it’ll make an excellent underlying track.”

The man and woman standing behind him nodded in surprise, making no effort in hiding just how impressed they were as they continued listening to the music that was being mixed in front of them. With being an intern at this record label for only two short months now, Harry had shown a great sense of knowledge and understanding when it came to the profession of music and wasn’t long in leaving a lasting impression on his colleagues. Mike and Alex were the first people to really take Harry in under their wing when he started working for them. They let him take part in the actual music-making process much faster than any intern in the past and were always blown away by just how good he was.

Once the song was over, the two of them approached the young man with wide grins.

“I’ll never understand how fast you pick up on these things, kid,” Mike stated while patting Harry on the shoulder excitedly, causing him to chuckle.

“Learn from the best, don’t I?”

“Flattery will only get you so far,” Alex laughed as she started playing the track back again and nodded in appreciation. “Remind me though, what was it you did before this? I know you went to college and all, but work-wise.”

“I was a lifeguard,” Harry replied and looked at his two supervisors with a shrug. “Nothin’ too special.”

“Right!” Alex exclaimed, thinking of how she’s heard this story before. “How could I forget? That’s how you met your girlfriend, right?”

Harry hummed in response and nodded with a goofy grin, falling silent as thoughts of Y/N entered his mind. There was undoubtedly this sense of happiness that only she was able to create for him, and it always left Harry in a bit of a daze. Mike and Alex have observed numerous times just how lovestruck Harry would become, solely at the mention of his girlfriend and this moment was no exception; however, it was short-lived when Harry’s phone lit up with a notification of a missed call and multiple text messages.

“Oh, shit.”

In an instant, Harry was out of his seat and darting across the room to grab the device from where it rested on one of the plush leather chairs in the corner. He muttered the word shit multiple times as he read over the messages he had been sent, anxiously tugging his hand through his curls as realization washed over him.

“Everything alright?” Mike asked from his spot across the room.

“Didn’t realize what time it was,” Harry responded, reaching for his jacket and pulling it on before making way towards the door. “I’m uh- I’m really late. Fuck, Y/N is going to hate me.”

“Then get a move on, man,” Alex told him and waved him off. “Get home to your girl, we’ll see you on Monday.”

With one last smile and a quick nod, Harry was out the door and trying to get home as fast as he could.

Y/N had just finished canceling the reservation she and Harry had at a fancy restaurant just down the street when her boyfriend came crashing through the door of her apartment, causing her to yelp. “Oh my god!”

“I’m so sorry m’late,” Harry spat out as he kicked off his shoes and made his way to the kitchen.

She sat on one of the barstools, leaning her elbows onto the counter, and dressed in that new black dress she refused to let Harry see her wear until she felt like it. Apparently, that night was tonight, and damn did she look good. Harry couldn’t help but internally groan just at the sight of her and cursed himself even more for being late.

“It’s alright,” she replied with an easy tone as she watched him approach where she was, surprising Harry. Maybe she wasn’t mad?

“I- you look beautiful, love,” he mumbled once he reached her, and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her from the stool and in closer to him. “I really am sorry.”

“And I said it was fine, H,” Y/N told him honestly before standing on her tiptoes so she could peck his lips. “I just canceled our reservation, and I had a really long day at work. I’m completely ok with staying in tonight unless you still wanted to do something?”

“I’d love to stay in,” he replied with a smirk.

“Perfect, I’ll pour us some wine.”

Y/N unwrapped Harry’s arm from around her waist and moved to the other side of the island to grab some wine glasses, leaving Harry to lean against the counter and patiently wait for her to return as he glanced around the apartment.

Y/N’s one-bedroom unit was much nicer than Harry’s, and he’d be the first to admit that. Her building was in a less sketchy part of the city, and about a twenty-minute drive from his dingy flat and messy roommate. When Y/N told Harry about the money she had saved to afford this place, he didn’t believe her. But being true to her word, she actually did have quite a bit of money saved before she even started working at Oceanside Resort, and continued saving when she began her job as a lifeguard there with Harry a few months ago.

Every day since reconnecting with the girl he somewhat knew back in high school, she has continuously blown him away. After developing a relationship with her this past summer while at the resort, he had spent the last few months wishing he’d gotten the chance to know her like he did now when they were younger. But, although Harry is only greedy when it comes to his girl, he doesn’t let that fact bother him too much. For now, he got to call her his own, and he never wanted to give that up. She was too good for him.

“What are you doing?”

Y/N had watched as Harry mindlessly walked away from the island and made way to the large glass windows of her living room, observing as he leaned against the glass and looked down at the city lights below. Her words caught him off guard, though, and she had to stifle a chuckle when he jumped and accidentally knocked his head against the window.

“Ow!” Harry groaned and placed his hand over where he just hit his forehead, a pout forming on his lips when he turned to see his girlfriend laughing at him. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is,” she replied while shaking her head and continuing to giggle, only stopping when he moved his hand to see there was already a red spot forming on the left side of his forehead. “Shit, H, how hard did you hit did you hit your head?”

Harry just shrugged as he watched concern take over Y/N’s features while she rushed around the counter and over to him. She wasted no time in pushing her hand into his curls so that his hair would be out of his face as she looked him over, a tsking sound leaving her mouth as she assessed the damage. “Didn’t think it was that hard.”

“It’s red already,” she told him and reached down to grab his hand so that she could lead him over to the barstool again. “Sit.”

Harry did what he was told, knowing he’d be sassed if he didn’t and waited as Y/N disappeared down the hallway and into the washroom, only to come back a moment later with a damp face cloth. She quickly placed the cold rag against his forehead, causing him to flinch slightly and smirk to dance on her lips. She was enjoying it far too much.

“S’cold.”

“It’s supposed to be,” she told him firmly, pausing as she began dabbing at the spot for a moment before placing it back against his skin. “It'll help keep it from swelling you klutz.”

“I am no such thing,” he scoffed and chuckled as Y/N glanced at him skeptically. “Ok, maybe a little. Thank you though, love.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled at him gently before removing the cloth and tossing it into the empty kitchen sink. His arms snaked around her waist yet again as she lazily wrapped her arms over his shoulders and positioned herself between his legs, mindlessly reaching up so that she could play with the small curls that rested at the nape of his neck. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” Harry told her. “Did lots at the studio, which is why I took so long getting here. How was yours?”

“Long and exhausting,” Y/N groaned dramatically and leaned her head onto Harry’s shoulder, smiling when he started rubbing small circles on her back. “You know, I thought I saw it all with some of the people we had come to the pool at Oceanside, but no, some of the people I have to serve while waitressing just take the cake.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You don’t even want to know,” she stated before moving away from him and sitting on the stool opposite of him, not noticing the way Harry frowned at her sudden absence from his embrace. “Let’s just say I’m thrilled to have this weekend off. I get to spend tonight with you. Nick and Aimee are coming to visit tomorrow, it’ll be a good couple of days.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Harry responded with a smile as he gently placed his hand on her knee and started rubbing small circles with his thumb. “What would you like to do tonight then?”

Y/N smiled back before nodding towards the two glasses of wine sitting on the counter that she poured before Harry hit his head on the window. “Why don’t we have some of that and see where the night takes us?”

Naturally, Harry agreed.

The two of them remained seated as they sipped on their wine. They covered everything from how Harry basically got to produce a song while at work that day, to how Y/N thought she found an online course she might want to start taking, and what the game plan was for when their friends came to visit the following day.

After about a glass and a half in, they both migrated towards the living room and prepared to curl up on the couch while an episode from the fourth season of House, M.D played in the background, much to Y/N’s dismay.

“I’m not done the second season yet, Harry.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you, because I think Hugh Laurie’s voice really sets the mood. Plus, it’s my Netflix account.”

Despite the eye roll Y/N gave her boyfriend, she welcomed his presence as he sat next to her on the couch before resuming their conversation. They talked for what seemed like twenty minutes but really was actually well over an hour. This type of thing always happened to them. It was so hard for them to not get lost in what the other was saying, for they were just so intrigued by and comfortable with one another.

As their conversation died down a bit and most of the bottle of wine had been consumed, Harry started really looking Y/N over as he finished off the last bit of red liquid that was in his glass.

“Did I tell you how good that dress looks on you?”

“Think you might’ve when you first got home, but I forget,” Y/N answered and giggled, only to cut herself off a second later when a hiccup involuntarily left her mouth. Harry knew how much Y/N hated having the hiccups, so watching her scowl each time her upper body shook with one was quite amusing, despite the frown that stayed planted on her mouth. “Oh, come on.”

She was getting annoyed, which Harry knew. He was also aware that the only way for Y/N to get over her hiccups was to either scare her or take her mind off them. After a moment of debate, Harry chose the second option when he leaned over and crashed his lips against hers.

A final hiccup mixed with a surprised squeak left her mouth at the sudden contact, but soon enough, she was melting into the way his hand delicately cupped her cheek while the other rubbed up and down her thigh. Once a few moments of making out passed, Y/N eventually pulled away; almost right after Harry pulled her close enough so that she’d be straddling his lap, and he couldn’t help the whine that he made as her lips left his.

“What was that for, hmm?” Y/N asked as she started brushing her hands through his hair.

“Thought I’d try to help get rid of your hiccups,” Harry replied while pinching lightly at her sides. “Did it work?”

Y/N waited a moment to see if her hiccups were still there or not, her eyes widening when she discovered they weren’t. “Now how in the hell did you know that would make them go away?”

“I didn’t,” he shrugged. “Just thought it’d get your mind off them. Did you want me to stop?”

“No, you can keep going,” Y/N stated as she leaned down to catch his lips in yet another steamy kiss.

Predictably, both Harry and Y/N were immensely turned on and were beyond the point of no return rather quickly. They stayed latched onto one another as Harry started laying Y/N back onto the cushions and let his hands start roaming her body, all while not breaking the kiss as he hovered over her.

His first move was to unzip her dress. It took him a moment to find the zipper (that was located on the side rather than the back, which he thought was stupid) but soon enough, he was tugging it down and making Y/N’s cleavage much more visible.

Y/N moaned in pleasure as Harry reached up to start massaging her breasts through the fabric of the dress. She smirked against his mouth at how he paused slightly upon coming into contact with her boobs and waited for him to say something about it.

“No bra?” He asked huskily before trailing kisses from her mouth, across her jaw, and down her neck.

“Didn’t think I needed one,” she breathed out as Harry started sucking on what seemed to be his favourite spot in the dip between her neck and collarbone, biting down on her lip to prevent another moan from escaping.

“You’re right, you don’t,” Harry replied as he continued making a trail of kisses further down her body. “Makes things easier for me.”

Before Y/N could even think of coming up with a witty response, she was cut off by her own gasp as Harry gently separated her legs and immediately indulged in her warmth. He placed another soft kiss to her centre through the lacy black underwear she decided to wear and felt his ego inflate at just how wet she was already.

“Don’t say it,” Y/N spoke up as if she had read his thoughts, tugging at his curls although he hadn’t even done anything yet. Refusing to make eye contact, she leaned her head back onto one of the pillows so she wouldn’t have to see the smug look she already knew he was looking at her with. “Just keep going, H. Please.”

“Oh, but you’re so wet for me, love,” Harry teased as he looped his fingers around her underwear and tugged them down, mindlessly tossing them away once he had them completely off. “But you don’t need to tell me twice.”

In a matter of seconds, he was hiking the dress up a bit more and burying his face back into Y/N’s burning core. Harry then began rotating between sucking harshly on her clit and licking long wet stripes up her middle, devouring every bit of the wetness that had already accumulated... and becoming desperate for there to be more.

Y/N’s moans mixed with the sounds of Harry lapping her up were just barely audible over the sound of House still playing in the background, but to them, it was deafening. If Harry could keep the sounds Y/N made when he did this type of thing on a constant loop in his brain, he would. Without hesitation. He loved every freaking moment of this.

The way one of her hands tugged at his hair while other gripped on to the side of the couch for dear life was a sight Harry thought belonged in the Louvre, or at least to be engraved into his memories forever. It was a beautiful picture, but what Harry really wanted to witness was her coming undone.

There was a slightly nagging thought at the back of Y/N’s mind as this all unfolded. The thought being of how she was getting properly fucked by her boyfriend, on her couch next to the vast windows that pretty well showed off everything to the streets of LA below when the lights were on. Usually, they made it to the bedroom when it got heated between them, but for some reason, tonight things weren’t that way, and Y/N hoped no one walking past her building felt the need to look up to the eighth floor and see what was going on.

Harry could sense that Y/N was worrying about something, and that made the want to make her cum, hard, that much more of a goal for him. As much as he truly loved this woman, he hated how her overthinking mind could get the best of her during the most inconvenient times and knew he needed to get her mind off whatever it was bugging her.

Without any warning or indication, Harry moved his mouth up to solely focus on attacking her clit while beginning to pump two fingers deep inside of her. The loud gasp that left his girlfriends mouth assured Harry he was doing something right before he soon added a third finger and started curling them, making sure to hit that spot he knew made her back arch and toes curl.

After that, Y/N was a goner. Once Harry had found a steady pace of sucking and nibbling at her sensitive bud all while inserting his fingers in and out of her at the same rate, it didn’t take long for the familiar bubble of an oncoming orgasm to form and make her knees tremble.

“H-Harry, I’m gonna,” she stuttered but stopped when Harry curled his fingers one last time and sent her right over the edge. “Fuck.”

A series of moans and groans left Y/N’s mouth as she gripped onto Harry’s hair for dear life and came entirely undone. Harry watched it all unfold, loving the way her eyes stayed screwed shut and her breathing became uneven all while he lapped up every bit of her release.

She was out of breath by the time Harry moved away from her centre and slowly started making his way up to her mouth again. The tangy aftertaste of her own release danced on her taste buds as Harry was quick in inserting his tongue into her mouth and deepening the kiss entirely. The gesture caught her off guard, but again, she soon found herself getting lost in his touch as she felt his hardened erection brush the inside of her thigh through his dark jeans.

“If we’re doing this out here,” Y/N started and broke away from the kiss, giggling when another whine left Harry’s mouth. “You’re going to need a condom.”

Sure, Y/N was on birth control, and the two of them had not used a condom many times before, but they’ve never fucked on the couch like they just had. She knew that if things went any further, it would more than likely end in a mess that she did not feel cleaning up afterward. A condom or just merely washing her bedding once they were done was a much better option.

Harry pondered her words for a moment before ultimately deciding to move their activities elsewhere, mainly so that he wouldn’t have to wear the piece of rubber Y/N had mentioned. “Bedroom it is.”

Another surprised yelp left Y/N’s mouth as Harry scrambled off the couch, and started pulling her with him. She stumbled a little as she tried to find her balance due to Harry’s impatience, but luckily for her, he was there to steady her before placing another peck on her lips and eventually leading them down the hall to her bedroom.

None of them bothered with the light, knowing through muscle memory just how far the bed was from the door along with its dark figure that could be made out from the dim lights that shone in from outside. Harry immediately removed Y/N of her dress once she crashed onto the mattress, and she started to get to work on unbuttoning the red shirt he decided to wear to work that morning.

Once they were both completely bare, Y/N pushed herself closer to the headboard, and Harry followed after her. She thought about throwing a curveball and getting on top. However, Harry seemed on a mission as he began littering her skin with kisses once again, so she just let him have his way… this time.

Harry made sure to press his length against Y/N’s inner thigh once again, grinning into her collarbone as she moaned in anticipation, but kept her waiting as he leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on.

Y/N snapped her gaze to Harry, confused as to why he felt the need to turn the light on. “What’re you-.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry cut her off as he took in the way she was splayed out entirely for him. He noticed the blush that was forming on her cheeks as he leaned down and repositioned himself, pausing so that he can mumble one last thing into her ear. “Had to get a good look at you before I fuck yeh into next week.”

Before Y/N could even react, Harry was pushing himself into her slick core, causing her walls to burn at the sensation. Harry was not small by any means. Y/N learned that the hard way this summer the first time they slept together. She liked to think she’d become accustomed to his size, but sometimes that proved to be wrong, especially when it’s been a little while since the last time they went at it.

The gasp that left her mouth at Harry entering inside of her was a mixture of pleasure and pain but only left her wanting more as her nails unintentionally started digging into his back.

“You alright?”

His question was sincere, but Y/N couldn’t find it in her to answer as he finally came to a stop; every inch of him covered by her. Harry waited for a response though, he always did, and when Y/N nodded to indicate that she was okay, he got right to work.

His thrusts started off slowly, easing into a steady pace that soon picked up fast. Each push was harder and deeper than the last, and they both knew that neither of them would last long if they kept going at it this way, which Harry decided he was ok with.

Y/N clawed at his back as his movements increased in speed, and Harry started hitting her in all the right places. She moaned each time his skin came in contact with her own, and couldn’t help but gasp whenever Harry’s prick reached that particular spot, which quickly had her seeing stars.

Still sensitive from being eaten out on the couch earlier, that all too familiar bubble formed in the pit of Y/N’s stomach and each time Harry would thrust deep inside of her, that bubble got closer to bursting. “H.”

“I’m almost there too, baby. Gonna get you there first, though.”

True to his word, Harry pushed himself deep inside of her a few more times while sucking harshly at her collarbone and soon enough, Y/N was being hit with another wave of an orgasm.

This one was more intense than the last, that much Harry could tell. He saw it in the way her eyes fluttered shut, heard it in the way she moaned his name, and felt it in the way her nails dug into his back and her walls pulsated around his throbbing cock. It was like stimulation to his senses and was more than enough to send him right over the edge with her.

Y/N could feel the thick, long spurts of Harry’s release shoot inside her as he muffledly groaned the word fuck over and over again into the curve of her neck. His thrusts became sloppy all until he came to a complete stop and flopped onto the mattress beside her, gently pulling himself out.

She could feel his cum begin to drip out of her but didn’t move as she listened to hers and Harry’s uneven breaths, and attempted to slow down her heart rate. After a few moments went by, Harry was soon tugging at the blanket they were laying on as a silent way to tell her to lift up so that he can cover them with it. Y/N obliged, and a few seconds later, the blanket was draped over her as she nestled into her boyfriend's chest.

The two of them stayed like that for a few minutes, Harry listening to Y/N’s breathing while she listened to the steadying beat of his heart. Once they were both relaxed enough, Harry reached over to turn the light off again and finally spoke up.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t the first time he told Y/N this and most definitely would not be the last, but regardless of that fact, his words still made her grin like a complete idiot. “And I love you, Harry.”

“Say it again,’ he said while he started mindlessly playing with Y/N’s hair. “But different.”

It took a second for Y/N to realize that Harry meant to say it in a different language. One of his favourite things to hear her talk about it all the travels she went on before moving back to California and working at Oceanside, and he just loved how she could say different things in the languages of the countries she visited. I love you, being one of them.

“Je t’aime.”

“Again,” Harry replied as he shifted to look at her, even though it was dark.

“Jeg elsker deg.”

“Again.”

“Eu amo-te.”

“And again.”

“Harry,” Y/N whined. “I want to go to bed.”

“Just one last time,” he started as he brought her hand up to his mouth to place a soft kiss against it. “Please?”

“I love you,” she replied one last time before scooting over and cuddling against him once again. The exhaustion of the day's events soon caught up with her, and she wasn’t long in gradually falling asleep in her boyfriend's arms.

But, before he was sure she was fully passed out, Harry brushed his hand through her hair and spoke on last time.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Sleep well, m’love.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #lifeguard!harry

[chezforshire]

Since i literally cannot work on something without blabbing abt it im gonna ramble a bit abt the earth c kids au i have

Rn im doodlin rosemary and davekats kids. Idk yet who gets saddle with a child first but both couples go through dealing with the strilondes fear of becoming their guardians. Karks has his reservations too. Thinks he's too much of an asshole to really rear a kid and being a parent is like being a leader, sorta. Some loser wriggler hangs onto your every word and you try your best to guide em where they should go. Previous experiences have shown him to have failed in that regard so imagine his trepidation over having to do that for longer than a few weeks.

Kan's prolly the only one of em who has her head about with the whole child rearing business bc well she was hatched for this shit ya know

Anyway the kid rosemary has is a maryam descendant and rose just goes 'well, she's sorta ur kid genetically speaking and we're married so she's my kid too ig so... we should raise her????' And they do and she's sweet and smart and terrifying in that she keeps alluding to murdering you if you so much as look at her or her parents wrong. Her name is Astrea Maryam-Lalonde and she loves her moms a whole damn lot and she thinks theyre the absolute shit. She's fascinated with fashion as is the Maryam staple though she only cares abt her appearance if she's being seen by people outside of family. When she's at home she just wears ratty tshirts and shorts or sweatpants that have more than a few holes in it. This makes Kanaya sigh with exasperation and just say 'like mother like daughter' as Rose flops on the couch next to their daughter in clothes under the same state.

Dave loves the shit out of her ofc bc he's a great uncle but also bc she loves drawing a whole buncha shit. Most of the time she draws people so she could slap some sick as shit dresses she designes on them. Dave talks abt SBaHJ w her and she's just That sounds Highly Stupid where can I see it and so they spend an afternoon just talking abt it and she genuinely finds it funny and wonders more than once if one day she could make her own comic. Though hers, no offence to Dave, would be much more serious and plot heavy and maybe gay and has romance bc seriously she's a Maryam-Lalonde have you seen their library? And Dave encourages her abt it and has become her editor/soundboard/ whatever the fuck when she has ideas for stories and makes quick drawings abt it.

Im not set on how davekat gets their kid yet but it's an ectogoop hybrid of the two of them. His name is Kagang Vantas for now bc Dave still hasn't gotten around to marrying Karkat wc is fine bc it's not like it means much to either of them but he does playfully call him husband every now and then. Anyway, the little dude is a human/troll hybrid and don't ask me any questions abt that yet im working on it. He's a bit of a brat but is a nice kid. He's a little hard of hearing so he doesn't always notice his voice but that's fine bc Dirk teaches him sign and makes him some hearing aids that he asks to have customized to look sick as shit when he grows up. He's got a lotta energy and spends a lot of his time playing outside w John, Jade and Jake. He's really attentive too and picks up on tiny details rly fast which makes him pretty great at handling upset ppl. He rly likes music just like Dave and that spurs the god into buying even better acoustics every year so his son can feel the vibrations much better. Contrary to Dave, however, Kagang rly likes classical music mostly bc Rose spent a whole lot of time playing her violin for both him and Astrea. He picks up the instrument too when he grows up and Rose is all too happy teaching him.

Dirk is apprehensive arnd the kid given what he knows of who he can become w Dave but he truly deeply loves the kid. He's distant for a few years and Kagang inevitably thinks it's his fault bc Dave and Karkat are both vry rejection-sensitive people and sadly that got passed down to the kid but dw it takes one to know one so the dads know how to get him through it. Dave talks abt it w Dirk and Dirk is floored bc jesus i was trying to make sure the kid wouldn't feel bad arnd me and fuck whatever i do its just a fuck up huh and Dave just shooshes him and goes bro dude dirkles it's fine you can still work on it. Now u know what's up and why u can work to make a better relationship. I know u love the shit outta my little dude but sometimes that ain't enough. Ya gotta show it through words and actions now come on let's hang out w Kagang and u can slowly mend that bridge. And he does and fuck he /can/ be a good person, these past few years has thought him that, and by fuck will he make sure that his nephew knows that he loves him and cares for him and thinks he's the shit

One can say Kagang and Astrea have a moirailgance but it's a lot more like siblingship rly. They poke fun at each other, mess w each other, would hide a body for the other all that shit. It's a lot like Dave and Rose but w a lot less layers of cool and aloofness to hide the fact that Dork+Dork equals Mega Dork.

#chersonal #homestuck #homestuck ocs #earth c kids au #fsofjridkdifnskfb im too tiredto keep foing sry

[monochromemedic]

Ok but what if Fallon was a twitch streamer

Fallon tapped away at his computer, adjusting his large expensive camera that was pointed at his face, and checked his soundboard for quick commands. He didn’t have any plans for today. He didn’t usually, unless a game came out.  Sometimes he’d talk, sometimes he’d do something crazy and unusual for the stream but most of the time, it was games. He took a quick look at himself in the camera one last time, slid on his sunglasses and started the stream, sending out notifications and a wait screen for people to gather. Of course it didn’t take long. Some people knew Fallon’s schedule like it was integrated in their soul. Others were just quick on the notifications he supposed. As soon as he saw a few people get in he tapped his pencil and began to view possible things from the list of things he had written down. A few minutes later and the chat was bumping. Inside memes, emotes flying, general talk and talk about Fallon himself was rampant. It only flew by faster as he unmuted his mic. “Hey guys, welcome. How’s it going?” He gave a little laugh when chat blew up, and only made people spam an emote he had that was used when Fallon was usually astonished or flustered by chat. He would always give a laugh when people responded so quick and fast. He was amazed at the following he had. “Good? Have a nice meal? Nice weather? Oh what’s that? That a link to- to my face on a ice cream and chat eating it that’s great, won’t give me nightmares.” He chattered before stretching and switching the camera to his face. “Hey. So I’ll be honest. Haven’t a clue what to do today. BUT. Isn’t that how most of our best streams go?” He raised his hands a little before putting them behind his head, swerving a bit in his gamer chair. “So what do we do. Any suggestions? Maybe we’ll just talk and have a bunch of mini things to do.” He looked a chat, swarming with suggestions, some he remembered that he promised to do, mostly joke ones, and some that alot of people were doing. “No taking shoes off, no... you gotta pay for my premium- not even Onlyfans, it’s Onlystans, Onlysimps. It’s like a cult you gotta make a blood sacrifice to get in. There’s like... only 3 other people on the site but you know what the managers there, real sweet.” He chuckled a bit at the reaction of the chat before sliding back up to the computer and starting up a few things people suggested. “Alright how about some shitty games. We’re doing that today, just the absolute bottom of the barrel. See how long it takes to tear our eyes out. Actually you know what.” He sat back in the chair again, hand on his chin. “I’ve seen... alot of shitty games. That just reuse the same assist. Cause you know their pumping this shit out trying to get a quick buck so how about this. We play a few crappy games, and then we go into a certain subgenre. Some real popular thing right now, like a FNAF. And we get some of those and we see how much is recycled and we get a drinking game out of it. Hell we’re look at a few to look at together make a bingo sheet of drinks!” He proclaimed Chat seemed to like that with the amount of pogchamps in the chat. Other people told him that he’d be dead in 10 minutes. “Hey if I get drunk, I get drunk! I don’t anything to do today, do you? I mean if you do maybe get a orange juice or something don’t get plastered. I get paid to get plastered. I get to be the dancing monkey.”  He went to a site and told chat to begin choosing a few and making stuff to go on the bingo card while he got some beers. And soon they had a list of games and a complete bingo card. Some of the games were pretty good in all honesty. Well considering they were trash. Although there was always something in them that made chat go mad with laughter.  A glitch, a funky texture, and later on the reoccurring assets. Soon he was plastered, his face red and sweaty, hair a mess as he tried not to lose his mind over the shitty model of a monster that slid across the ground. People were clipping it, making fun of him for laughing and saying how he was gonna piss his pants with how much he was laughing. It was only when someone in chat called him cute did he  pull his hoodie over a part of his face and paused the game. “No don’t call me cute, I got like... snot runnin down my face and like... i’m on the edge of just barfing.” A few people in the chat agreed, sending him hearts while others teasingly insulted him with jokes like how big of a chin and nose he had, and how ratty his hair was. He was in the middle of laughing and blushing as he waved  at the camera, people calling him handsome and cute. “Nah we gotta... we gotta look at this bear man this ain’t about me i mean look at the funny bear! I mean look at the funny fucking bear.” He sat back up and turned switched the camera to another wait screen, one with a little pair of sunglasses being wiped down that he used when he needed to take his glasses off, and began to wipe his eyes from the tears.  As he wiped down his glasses that were covered in sweat and tears he saw something out of the corner of his eyes in chat. ‘i’m new here, what’s with this guy and the sunglasses?’ A mod sent a command to a bot that spewed out a message, and he realized he hadn’t talked about it in a while. Well uh, as far as he could remember in his little haze. “I saw... someone in chat ask about the glasses.” He began, forgetting to turn his camera on before quickly changing it back, glasses back on his face. “I mean it’s in the description but... I haven’t said it in a while and like maybe I should just for... people who don’t read.” He said with a little snort. A few people in chat started to explain while others just gave a ‘they don’t know’ and a custom emote of Fallon with his glasses down and question marks for eyes. “Um... so. God I shouldn’t explain things while drunk. Uh. I know I put in the description don’t ask, and if you keep bugging me about it I ban or silence you for a while, and i know that’s a bitch move on my part. But i’ll give you some... Fallon lore. I know I might have said this a looong time ago but i’ll just say it again. Realsies, no jokes. Um...” He checked chat again, who were now slowing down, a bit quiet waiting for him to talk. “I uh... I got some problem with eye contact? Like I mention that too in the descripty... but like it’s real... real bad. It’s not like uncomfortable I know that’s what you all think I just get uncomfortable but it’s nooott.... that. I... freak the fuck out. Don’t know why. Just feel like shit when I do, hate being stared at without my glasses, hate looking at people back without em. So I wear sunglasses, the really dark ones, so I can see you, and you can see me, but we don’t like... see each other ya... know? Uh it feels like, the world is looking down at me, and I feel like shit and garbage, and just like... the worst disappointment so yeah-” He gave a little laugh and watched the chat who were spamming hearts and understanding messages. He probably would appreciate it more if he wasn’t plastered but he did stare at the chat for a while just watching the messages fly by. He had to take a second before shaking his head and blinking, before looking back at the game. “Won’t lie, I just stared into like the 6th dimension there. Sorry. Uh... thank you for the nice messages this is... stupidly nice. For ... what’s on the screen right now. You’re all super kind. Honestly this is why I do dumb shit like this and I talk to you about this stuff because you guys aren’t... assholes. You under- well... maybe not understand me at times but you at least put up with my bullshit and like me and you know if I can give even a little bit of love and appreciation back in some form. With dumb jokes and playing shit games it’s ... it’s the least I can do.” He slurred, before sliding back into his seat and taking a swig of water. “Alright let’s get back to the game, I bet some of you aren’t as plastered as you could be. If I don’t see one of you message me, and be like ‘Fallon, I just saw god when I went to go take a piss, i’m suing your ass’ I’m... i’ll be disappointed I don’t know about you guys. He continued to play for a some time, switching to water so he didn’t pass out and eventually ending the stream on a rather sweet note, with a few people saying how they couldn’t wait for the next stream. With the stream off he watched the chat die down into nothing, wiping his brow and smiling before shutting it all down.  His family might have given up on him, and seeing how he lived probably would make them upset. But he honestly didn’t care, he knew that at least he was good in a few peoples eyes.  And that’s all that mattered to him.

#fallon's tag

[harrieatthemet]

ik requests are closed. but soft! 17 year old harry trying to navigate fame with famous y/n. they meet at a party and just start being friends. but they get caught by the paps when harry teaches her how to make out. idk why this soft! harry rlly appeals to me. whatever you want to do with this

no seriously this was so cute. I loved this.

It was a platonic friendship. 

It was nice having someone near his age, outside of the band, who understood all the strings attached to being in the eye of the media at such a young age. He enjoyed hanging around with you, because in your company, he actually felt like a teenager, and not some figurehead for a record label or someone on a magazine cover. 

He’d latched onto you almost immediately, when you had accidentally spilled your soda all over his white button down during an album release party. He’d noticed you prior, though, aimlessly wandering around the party, a few adults roping you into conversations every so often. The deer in headlights look you had etched on made him snort, not intentionally of course, and he was quick to subdue it when he saw how flushed your face was. 

He was happy to stumble upon someone who looked to be his age, aside from his bandmates, who even then, were still a little older than him. You’d been the first teenager he’d come across for most of the night, that is, a teenager who wasn’t holding a pen and paper while screeching his name. He’d recognized you from a movie he’d seen, the one he’d watched on the plane over here to LA, and he got a little flustered when you asked which one. Because he didn’t know the name, he couldn’t remember. 

“Guess I deserve that for spilling cola on you, and ruining your shirt.” You had teased, handing him a napkin.

From there a genuine friendship had blossomed. It was someone to navigate through fame with, and maybe a little bit of all the awkward package that came with being a teen. For you, it was nice to have someone around who didn’t use your name to get into places, or drag information out of you to sell it to tabloids, to make a couple bucks. The normalcy is what you both enjoyed. Normal things like going to the mall like other teenagers would, or going to see a movie, maybe playing a couple pranks on the adults. Though the pranks had come to screeching halt, after both of you got a pretty severe scolding when you had concocted up a slingshot. It was Harry’s idea, and he didn’t mean to hit the coffee mug sitting next to the soundboard in the studio, but he did. And it really wasn’t funny, but you couldn’t swallow the laugh that bubbled out of you. 

“Don’t believe it!” his tone was amused, taunting too, as he smirked at you in disbelief.

“It’s not funny!” you frown, puncturing your ice cream with your spoon, “M’serious!”

“Yeh telling me,” he starts, swallowing a gulp of his milkshake, “yeh never kissed anyone?” 

“Not what I said,” you correct matter of factly, “only ever had a peck.”

“Hmmm,” he observes, eyes briefly scanning your face, “so yeh never, like, made out.”

You innocently shake your head, confirming that you had in fact, never made out with anyone before. You’d never had anything that really fell along the lines of a normal teenage experience. Never had a first date, never been asked to prom, or hid a bad test grade from your mom. And, you’d never made out with anyone before. 

He’s nodding his head slowly, absorbing this newfound information, taking it in. And once he does, his infamous devil-like smirk is starting to stir onto his lips, tugging at the corner of his mouth. You know he’s up to something, brewing up a plan that you know will get the two of you into hot water. Somehow, his plans always do. At first, you’re scared to ask what’s got his face looking all mischievous like that, because you’re not sure if you’re in the mood to be coerced into being reckless. But you cave, and decide to find out anyways, because now he’s humming in amusement to himself.

“What?” you giggle, cocking a suspicious brow at him.

“Oh no,” he concludes playfully, “s’nothing.” 

“Uh uh,” you rebuttal, “gotta tell me now.”

“Yeh ever wanted t’make out with someone?” He’s genuinely curious, though he’s got a playful grin planted on the lower half of his face that’s telling you otherwise.

“Dunno,” you shrug, furrowing your brows together, “kinda nervous to, ‘nd I never really thought about it.”

“I can teach yeh.” he answers immediately, and he has to stifle a laugh when he sees the look on your face, a little bit of chocolate ice cream staining the corner of your mouth.

“What?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “m’pretty good kisser, know a thing or two.” He states it cockily, full of confidence.

“Okay.” and your abrupt agreement shocks him, a little, before he’s smirking at you again. 

He’s nudging his empty milkshake cup away from him, sliding it down further to the edge of the bench. He’s not really nervous, because unlike you, he’s had plenty of kissing partners already. And plenty of them have praised him for his way with his mouth, how good of a kisser he was. But you were a jittery mess, butterflies swirling around relentlessly in the pit of your gut, your knee jumping up and down, as your fingers tuned on the hem of your shirt. 

“You meant right now?” you breath, realizing he’s inching closer to you, “Here?”

“Scared?” he teases, his leg pressed up against yours now.

You roll your eyes at him, because he’s a little more reckless than you are, which he thinks warrants all the relentless teasing, since you’re a little more practical. You’re on a public bench, for fucks sake, and it didn’t matter how much the two of you tried to keep up the normal teenage persona. Neither of you were. And he’s wiggling his eyebrows at you, a few curls of his dangling around his face. So you tell him you’re not scared, and he widens his eyes in surprise, letting out a low hum.

He rests his hand on your knee, letting it slither up to your thigh as his lips get closer. And though you told him you weren’t scared, and you weren’t nervous, you totally lied. Because right now all you were was scared, and nervous. Because what if you’re an awful kisser? Surely he’ll never let you hear the end of it. 

You sigh a little, out of content, when you feel his lips in a bit of pout when they brush up against yours. Until they’re fully on yours now, encouraging you to move your lips in sync with his. And it’s not even as scary as you thought, it actually feels nice, and it’s soothing. And your glad that it’s Harry, because you know he won’t make a big deal out of this. You involuntarily squeal when you feel his tongue push past your lips, to which he responds by chuckling. But he’s showing you how to french kiss, and it’s unexplored territory, but you like it. It’s putting you in a blissful state, and you’re melting into it, so it’s why you don’t pay attention the man with the camera a few feet away.

It’s not until he’s joined by a few other people, that the two of you hear the faint clicking of a moving camera lens. You pull back and Harry snickers to himself, because you’ve got just a bit of saliva on your bottom lip. But he forgets to tell you, he’s too busy giggling at how flushed your face is, how flustered you are over the fact there’ll be photos of you two making out all over the internet tomorrow. You’re scolding at him, because you’d had a feeling it’d happen exactly like this, and you’re frantically getting your purse off the bench. He could care less, as he sits and watches you collect your things in a calm, collected manner. So you have to grab him by the wrist, and tug him along, and he’s bidding a friendly goodbye to the men with the cameras.

“Fuckin’ told you!” You giggled, nudging him in the arm, giving him a playful shove.

He shrugs, smirking at you again “You tasted like chocolate.”

#harry #harry concept #harry drabble #harry writing #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry smut #harry fluff #soft!harry #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry fanficition #harry concepts #harry drabbles #harry writings #harry blurbs #harry imagines #harry styles #harry styles concept #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles concepts #harry styles drabbles

[godaime-obito]

my fill for madatobi week; July 31st: Fake Relationship/Hidden Relationship

@madatobiweek

available an ao3 by the link, and below under the cut

They’ve been locked in a closet. Again. If Hashirama is going to harass them about getting along can’t he at least come up with new ways to do it? This is the third time this month he’s locked Tobirama and Madara in a small space together and it’s only the 12th.

“I don’t know why your idiot brother still thinks this will work,” Madara complains. He’s activated his sharingan to look at the seals keeping the door shut. He doesn’t know why Hashirama’s harpy wife is helping him do this beyond deriving some sort of sick amusement from his pain, but her seals are out of his league. “Can you make yourself useful and do something about these?”

“He may be my idiot brother, but he’s your idiot friend, and only one of those titles is compulsory,” Tobirama says. He takes a quick look at the seals, but when it comes to work like this the Uzumaki, especially Mito, are ahead of him. “I couldn’t unlock it the last two times and I can’t now. Clearly, we need to take a more proactive approach,” he suggests.

Tobirama presses himself back into a corner, the closet is barely big enough for both of them to fit, and he’s determined to keep as far away from Madara as he can. It isn’t far enough. The man’s ridiculously large hair is still touching him. Does his hairbrush just sit around unused? On second thought, it would be exactly like Madara to not even own a single brush or comb. Will Hashirama consider them as starting to get along if he buys him one as a gift? It’s likely though that Madara would take offense to it and yell, so probably not.

Madara huffs, whipping his head around to look address Tobirama. The ends of his hair smack him in the face. “What do you mean by ‘proactive’?” he snaps.

“I mean exactly that. We need a plan to convince him we don’t need to be forced to get along,” Tobirama replies, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Right,” Madara says, “How the fuck do we convince him of that? Why does he care so much anyway?”

“Because he’s Hashirama, and I don’t know yet,” Tobirama answers. He would complain about the assumption he’s going to be coming up with any and all plans, but it goes without saying that even one of his worse ideas would be better than anything Madara could come up with. He’s not bad at battle strategy, but any other sort of planning from him is to be circumspect of.

Hashirama has Mito on his side, so any plan will have to either fool her too, or be entertaining enough she won’t tip off her husband. The second option will be easier to pull off than the first. What would Mito find funny that would also convince Hashirama to leave them alone? He can’t expect any good feedback from Madara, but maybe using him as a soundboard will help him come up with something. They could be in the closet for a while, so it’s not like he has anything else to do.

“We just need to get Anija to think we’re getting along, and Mito to be entertained enough not to tell him we’re pulling one over on him,” he explains. “Do you have any ideas?”

Madara pulls a rather amusing series of faces, before settling onto a scowl. Tobirama is 90% certain his hair fluffs even bigger when agitated, like a cat or a bird trying to make itself look bigger, but he is unable to properly test the theory. Maybe someday.

“At this point I’m not just satisfied getting him to go away,” Madara complains, “I want to make it blow back in his face somehow.”

If Tobirama’s honest with himself he rather likes the sound of that himself right now. He’s going to pulling Madara hair out of his mouth and off his clothes all night. He never realized humans could shed like this before, but perhaps it’s because the man never brushes his hair.

“Is it possible to get along too well?” Madara wonders aloud.

“Anija has no concept of getting along too well. The only people he’s ever considered too close are the ones I try to date, but elder brothers will be elder brothers, even Hashirama,” Tobirama complains. This idea is starting to seem like a fool’s errand.

Madara makes a considering hum. His sharingan activates again, and he looks Tobirama over from head to toe, seemingly contemplating something.

“Whatever idea you just had, I assure you it’s awful,” Tobirama says. Madara’s usual planning skills aside, he does not like the look he’s giving him.

“Hear me out,” he starts, “We could pretend to date, just for a week or so-”

“No,” Tobirama states, “Don’t even finish that.”

“Come on,” Madara says, gaining enthusiasm with every moment, “The harpy would think it was hilarious, and it would only take about a week for it to drive Hashirama so mad he’d never want us near each other again.”

The worst part of this is that it’s actually, on a scale of Madara’s plans, one of the best he’s ever had.

“We would have to tough each other outside of sparing,” Tobirama warns.

He’s has lost no eagerness, and in fact starts leaning closer, prompting Tobirama to give his best attempt at partially phasing into the wall away from the man.

“Just imagine his face,” Madara says gleefully.

Tobirama makes the mistake of imaging it. It’s glorious. Well if he’s going to make bad decisions he might as well go all in.

“Let’s start right away. While in this closet we had a great romantic revelation, and we are now sickeningly in love,” he decrees. Madara starts to cackle in response. His sharingan is still active, casting a harsh red glow, making him look like an angry witch. This is going to a beautiful disaster. Mito, at least, will find it hilarious no matter how it turns out.

This story might get a continuation eventually…

#madatobiweek2018 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfic #my writing #naruto #asking for trouble