#he's so cute he's got a blue plaid bow tie :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was named as a finalist in Lead411’s New York City Hot 125 in Aug 2010.

#he's so cute he's got a blue plaid bow tie :)

harrywritingsbyme · 3 years

Text

HarryWeen: Home Edition

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: Spooky szn has come to an end...but it’s going out with a bang. This bitch right here is hot as fuck and y’all have been waiting for this one. My 🐱is quaking and yours will be too once you’re done reading it...hopefully😭. Enjoy🙃

4.1k wordsss

The day you’d been anticipating for the past month and a half was here. It was finally Halloween! Since you two and everyone else in the world were living in the midst of a pandemic, you made sure to put forth the effort to really enjoy this Halloween to the fullest. Harry’s “Harryween” show was canceled because of it, and you couldn’t go out to Halloween parties because it wasn’t safe at all. So with all of that in mind, there was only one option left; the two of you could have your own little party at home. Which is exactly what you were planning on doing. And since you and Harry loved role playing, it was kind of a given that you two would go out for this holiday in particular. Mainly you though. You started preparing and planning in the middle of September. You went down you guys’ role play list and you scoured the internet until you found the perfect idea for yours and Harry’s costumes. When you started searching for costumes for yourself, hoping that you’d find some type of inspiration, you stumbled across the perfect red riding hood outfit. So naturally, you were already planning for you to take over the red riding hood role, and for Harry to take over being the big bad wolf. And once you figured that out, the entire process of picking and choosing things for your costumes went smoothly. Once you placed your orders, all you had to do then was wait in anticipation.

Fast forward to today and you were finally going to put on your costume that you only took a quick peek at when they arrived in the mail and get Halloween started. Now you decided to give Harry a bit of a surprise and not tell him what you had planned for costumes. All you told him was that he was going to love it and to just put on whatever you laid out for him. While you did the absolute most with your red riding hood get up, you didn’t do so much for Harry’s werewolf costume. You didn’t want it to be crazy extra or over the top, that was your job. You just wanted him to be hot. And since he already had that down, you pretty much picked what he was wearing from his closet except for little more specific things. You on the other hand were going all in with your costume. You thought of just about everything when making your purchases. For starters, you found the most perfect red riding hood costume out there. The red, white, and black dress hit right above the middle of your thighs and it rose even higher in the back which was perfect. The dress itself had everything you wanted and was amazingly detailed. The entire dress was satin with a very low and frilly top half, a corset in the middle with a monochrome floral pattern lining the sides to cinch your waist a bit, and the skirt portion had a little bit of a layered effect which allowed for there to be a sea of ruffles underneath to help billow the skirt out a bit and add a touch of innocence to the not so innocent look. To make this look even better, you threw in a couple more items. You couldn’t be little red riding hood without the infamous red cape, so you found the perfect hooded cape that tied in the front and went all the way down to the floor. You also threw in a pair of white thigh highs with black satin bows on the upper bands, a shiny new princess plug with ruby red jewel heart on top (you couldn’t have too many of those), and a lacy little red g string to tie everything underneath together. And to get a real idea of how perfect everything was, the g string was so small that your pussy was barely staying in, and your ass had practically swallowed up the little string in the back. You were so glad that Harry was going to rip it off later on. To round out the entire look, you bought a cute little basket to give it all a little bit more innocence and a pair of long stain gloves. You pulled your patent leather heels from the closet and you did something really simple and cute with the hair and makeup to really drive Harry crazy.

Once you were all done putting the pieces together, tightening and pulling things things into their proper places, and creating this look, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You were completely taken aback at how good you looked and you couldn’t wait to get an even stronger reaction from Harry once you showed him. Since you were keeping the whole surprise thing going, you laid everything out for him in the room next to yours so that you could get dressed separately and do a little reveal before taking some pictures. You do a final once over of yourself before grabbing your phone and the little things you got to round out Harry’s costume and heading over into the next room. As if he could just sense your presence, Harry’s head quickly lifts up from his phone and brings his undivided attention onto you.

“Holy shit!” He gawks, quickly moving himself to the foot of the bed so that he could get a better look at you.

“You like?” You ask, quickly sitting the items in your hands down onto the bed do that you can pull the cape away from the back and do a little twirl for him.

“You look amazing.” He whispers dumbfoundedly. There were no words to describe what was going through Harry’s head. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, his mind was flooded with the filthy things he wanted to do to you. He was also excited to role-play with you a bit. He never really thought about doing little red riding hood and the big bad wolf but he was very happy that you did because this was crazy hot.

“I’m glad you like it.” You reply happily, coming in closer to him.

“M’just trying to figure out why my costume is so simple.” He asks amusedly, pulling you closer between his legs.

“I didn’t want it to be costumey, I just wanted it to be hot. And the tattered red plaid and ripped blue denim was the only werewolf costume inspo I could find.” You say simply, moving yourself onto him so that you’re straddling his thigh. “Plus I didn’t want to be scared while you’re fucking me. But I did buy you some fangs and one of those werewolf mask things.” You continue, reaching over to grab the two items.

“I think I’ll stick to the fangs.” He chooses, taking the fangs from your hand.

“Can you just wear it for one picture please?” You ask sweetly, sitting the mask down wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Fine, but only if you let me do anything I want to you tonight.” Harry bargains, bringing his hands down to your thighs.

“Of course daddy.” You readily agree.

“Good. Now as much as I like having those tits in my face, we should probably head downstairs because the longer you’re on me like this, the harder it’s going to be to get those pictures you want.”

“Then let’s go.” You reply, bringing your feet back to the floor before standing up in front of him. You then proceed to waste no time grabbing your things from the bed, pulling Harry up as well and walking you both out of the room.

Now it was time to set everything up. You wanted perfect photos so you took out the tripod and clicker so that the photos could be perfect and so that this process could be hurried along to the fun stuff. After finally positioning the camera in a way that has the best lighting that flatters you both, and figuring out the cameras timer, you and Harry take some pictures of the both of you in your costumes. You were able to get some photos of just yourself, some cute coupely photos that you were definitely going to post on Instagram, the one picture of Harry in the mask, and you also got some that were definitely going into your archive of more nsfw photos. When you took the cape off to get some pictures of the actual outfit, Harry’s hands were all over you. When the final second markers flashed across the phone screen, Harry’d spring into action and do something inappropriate. In one of the photos, he randomly pulls you up into his arms, squeezing his hands into the flesh of your ass, and lightly sinking his teeth into your neck. Another time, he stood behind you and just as the time began to wind down, he reached around you to push his hand up the front of your skirt to cup your barely covers pussy and used the other to cup one of your breasts all while keeping you tight against him with his face in your neck. Every time he did this your pussy got wetter and you got more excited for what was going to happen a little later. Luckily for you, a little later wasn’t going to be that much later. When you bend down to undo your heels after you two were done taking pictures, you gave Harry a full view of what was going on underneath your dress. Your fleshy thighs and ass spread perfectly so that he could see the princess plug and the practically nonexistent panties you had on. Seeing that on top of being teased for what was going on an hour was more than just getting to him. Harry was fired up and he couldn’t take it any longer. So once your shoes were completely off and you were no longer using the wall for support, he quickly pushes you against it, leaving no space between you two. And before he even says a word to you, Harry brings one of his hands up to wrap around your throat and he moves the other down and up your skirt to toy at the plug that was pushed into you.

“’Now we’re gonna play a little game. I’m gonna let you run away, and you better be prepared for me to catch you.” Harry growls into your ear, tightening his grip on your throat. In that moment, he just wanted to fuck his cock into you and just pound you right into the wall. You managed to look like a sweet innocent girl and a filthy slut at the same time. Harry could barely wrap his head around it all. The only thing he knew was that he was definitely going to have some fun with you tonight. “Understand?” He asks, keeping his grip on your throat. You could barely form a word because of his tight grip on you so the only response you gave him was a pitiful nod yes and a whimper, causing him to let go of you completely. “Now run.” He growls, moving back to let you go and get a little head start. And once he does, you’re off. You didn’t even pay attention to where you were going you just went. Your entire body was on fire from his authoritativeness and you wanted him to make a mess out of you. Like no breaks, just back to back pounding and licking into you. You started off in the living room and you made it to the kitchen and the hallway leading to the laundry room. Before you could even decide which way to turn, Harry has his arms tightly around you and is dragging you both over to the kitchen island where he turns you around and hoists you up onto the cool surface. His hand goes back around your throat, he pulls your forward, and leans in to close the gap between his mouth and your ear. “I caught you.” He whispers cynically before pushing your upper body down against the counter.

He then pulls you a little closer to the edge so that he could easily fuck into you before pushing the bottom of your dress up to reveal your skimpy panties. When he sees the tiny string completely enveloped by your puffy and wet cunt, Harry can feel his cock instantly twitch in his pants. Your cunt was so plushy and puffy on the outside, (as well as inside) so seeing the thin strip pushing in between your lips was definitely a sight he’d never get out of his mind.

“Aww, was little red not able to find panties to fit her pussy?” He asks condescendingly with a smirk spread across his face before snapping the flimsy fabric off of you. When he lifts it up to inspect, he can see the darker spots where you drenched them with your juices. So since your mouth hung open because of his grip on your throat, Harry simply lowers the panties down into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself while he fucks you. He then uses his free hand to swiftly undo his pants and release his cock from his pants. Instead of giving himself a couple tugs, he pushes his hard cock right into you. As he pushes in, your toes are curling as tight as they possibly can. His large cock pushing you apart felt so good. Even the grip on your throat felt good. As he enters into you, you could hear his moans and growls as his cock is enveloped with your pussy. “Fuck! Such a good cunt.” He groans, pushing in the rest of the way before beginning his thrusts. He quickly shoves his hips back and forth against you, thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt. You felt like you were floating; his hand was around your throat and he was fucking you hard against the counter. You couldn’t believe how bad you needed him to pound into you like this. He was relentless with his thrusts and didn’t stop pounding into you or circling his thumb around your clit. It was like he was addicted to fucking your walls. Once he pushes in, he just can’t stop. He loved the way you let out the most pathetic whimpers as he enjoyed your spongy walls around his cock.

As he continues to thrust into you, you can feel your sweet spot deep inside you beginning to warm up in the pit of your stomach. The way he continuously thrusted into you and circled his thumb around your clit was absolutely insane. He had you right in the edge of your release, and you couldn’t wait to fall right over into it. While you were clenching around him and squirming in his grip, Harry too was feeling his release bubbling up inside of him. He could feel your walls tightening with every thrust he made and he could also feel you becoming wetter and warmer as he continued on which meant that he was on the edge as well.

“Should the big bad wolf let you cum?” He grunts, loosening the grip on your throat and slowing down his hips to deliver deep and sharp thrusts into your cunt.

“Please!” You beg. You felt like you were about to explode.

“Cum!” He grunts loudly, slamming into you once more and holding himself right against you as he emptied himself into you for the first time of the night. And as he lets go, so do you. Your walls rapidly contract around him as you just let go around as well. After he’s completely done riding the wave of his release, Harry pulls his cock out of you and bends down towards your cunt. Your legs were limply spread against the counter so he takes this opportunity to just dig right in. He opens his mouth wide and goes right into licking into your freshly fucked pussy. Since you were still recovering from your first release, you were extremely sensitive. So having his mouth on you so soon was definitely a shock. Your hands went straight to his hair in an attempt to push him away a bit.

“Oh my-Fuck!” You whine out feeling his tongue go deeper despite your pushes. When you continue pushing at his head and squirming, Harry pulls away from your cunt and stand up to tower over you. He then reaches out and cups your throat again, only this time, he pushes down to pin your head back against the counter.

“When i eat you out, don’t fucking run away from me. Don’t push my head away. Run, Im pulling your ass back. Touch me, i growl at your ass. Do not disturb me when I’m eating.” He snarls, making sure to get his point across to you. “Was gonna make you cum again, but since you obviously don’t deserve it, you’re gonna make me cum instead.” He continues, releasing his grip from you and pulling you down from the countertop. “Now on your knees.” He instructs.

“Yes daddy.” You reply submissively, quickly dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Open.” He further instructs, wrapping his hand around his cock that was still hard. He couldn’t get enough of you. When your mouth is parted wide, Harry steps a bit closer to you before pushing his entire length into your open mouth. As he travels past your tongue and down your throat, you gag a little and you try to rest your hands against his thighs to stop him but he quickly slaps them away. “Stop trying to fight me. A little girl like you shouldn’t be playing with wolves like me.” He growls, nudging at your throat a bit to get you to gag around him again which causes him to chuckle a bit. He holds himself there for a few more seconds before pulling out of your mouth and letting you catch a breath. When you’re all caught up, you go in to take him back inside but he steps back a little, causing you to crawl forward a bit. “That’s it little girl, crawl for daddy’s cock.” He taunts, watching you inch closer on your hands and knees with every step he takes.

Once you’re full on crawling, Harry’s losing his mind. You look like a complete fiend for his cock as you continue to follow him. He could just imagine how wet your cunt was as you followed his cock. To make it even worse, your ample cleavage was spilling right out of your dress. They were just calling out to him to grab them in his hands and just squeeze and play with them. As you crawled, Harry continued on making little remarks about how much of a cockslut you were for him and how pretty you looked on your knees. Meanwhile, your focus was directly on the hard and glistening cock right in front of you. You just wanted to feel him in your mouth again. After a little more crawling, the two of you make it back to the living room where it all began. He manages to move you both around so that you’re in between the side of the couch, and his towering body. Without waiting much longer, Harry grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you forward and back onto his cock. He wraps a hand in your hair and begins to thrust in and out of your mouth, listening to your moans and gags aground him. Your mouth and throat felt impeccable around his cock. Again, you were warm and wet which was all he could ever ask for when it came to your mouth. Because he was tugging at his cock as he lured you back into the living room, Harry was pretty worked up by now. This meant that he was really close to letting go again. And just as he does, Harry pulls his cock from your throat so that he could be right on your tongue and flood your mouth with his cum.

“Fuck!” He growls loudly, keeping his grip on your hair tight as he lets go. Spurt after spurt he floods your mouth with his thick cum. He came so much that it began to drip out of the corner of your mouth. Right now you were starting to wish you hadn’t tried to push his head away. Once he calms himself down a bit from his release, he pulls his cock from your mouth, unwraps his hand from your hair, and grabs you by your forearm to lift you up from the floor. You looked so pretty with your watery eyes and cum on your face that he couldn’t help but go one more time.

Without warning, Harry quickly lifts you up into his arms and rushes you both upstairs to the bedroom. Once inside, he drops you onto the bed and quickly removes every piece of clothing on his body along with the before moving onto you. He pulls at the strings at the front of your dress to loosen it from your body beef pulling it off and tossing it behind him. He pulls the gloves from your hands as well and leaves the stockings on because why not and then crawls onto the bed. Then he pulls your hips up and positions himself behind you so that he’s nudging at your entrance.

“Please daddy!” You whine out to him, pushing back in his direction, trying to sink his cock into you. You really wanted to feel his cock and cum again.

After watching you beg and move around a little bit more, Harry finally gives in and pushes into you. It felt so good, you herein need of a second release and you were finally going to get it. As he quickly thrusts himself in and out of you, Harry decides to play with your second hole a bit. Continuing his thrusts, he wraps his fingers around the top of the plug and he slowly pulls it out of you. He watches as your hole seizes back up and listens to your desperate moans get louder because he’s done this. He then spits down onto your hole and pushes the tip of the plug around there area to spread it.

“Oh my god!” You scream, feeling him go even deeper.

“Feeling good babygirl?” He asks nonchalantly through his own pants and moans, keeping his attention on teasing your second hole and watching the flesh of your ass move in synch with his thrusts.

“So good. M’gonna cum.” You slur, as you feel yourself becoming lightheaded from the massive release that was fast approaching.

“Wanna cum on daddy’s cock?” He asks, pushing the plug back into you in the process and continuing to thrust into you.

“Please” Whine softly. When Harry hears you respond in that way, he can tell that you’re about to have a really big release. So he pulls himself out of you and in one swift motion your flipped onto your back with Harry between your legs. He wastes no time pushing back into you and slamming in as hard and as fast as he can go. As he does, he can see that your eyes are watery and rolled back, and you have a little bit of drool forming in the corner of your mouth.

“You look so pretty getting fucked stupid babydoll, milking my cock for all I have, such a good girl.” He praises, slamming down onto you and feeling his third and definitely final release creeping up on him. “Daddy loves his stupid little girl.” He hums shakily, feeling himself nearing the edge as well. When his thrusts become staggered, Harry realizes that he can’t hold it anymore. “Now be a good girl and cum with daddy.” He grunts, stilling himself inside of you for the final time of the night and emptying whatever drops of cum are left in his body. And while he lets go, so do you. But yours is much more intense. Your body is full on quaking as you not only let go but also squirt all over him. The fact that he was hitting that sweet spot over and over again and the fact that you were desperately in need of a second release catapulted you right over the edge and into a powerful release.

Once he’s completely done, Harry collapses right onto the bed next to you. The both of you were deep into your post orgasm comas and you were going to be there for a good while too. There was just a lot for your bodies and minds to process.

Maybe being stuck inside for Halloween wasn’t so bad after all.

Masterlist

900 notes · View notes

admiringlove · 3 years

Text

[ii] scents, coffee and turtlenecks

+synopsis: hq boys and their scent, their coffee order and the turtlenecks they wear.

+genre: fluff lol; headcanons.

+characters: kageyama tobio, oikawa tōru, suna rintarō, miya osamu.

+warnings: literally just fluff man, unless you cry because of cute stuff.

+order: hi!! i saw that suggestions are open and i was wondering if you could do more of the scent coffee turtlenecks? they were really fun and comforting to read. they got me through a tough situation, so thank you! i hope you keep writing and keep growing <33 [by anonymous]

+author’s notes: hi anon! funnily enough, i had written some part of this and it was sitting in my drafts halfway done, but your ask helped me get through the rest of it. hope you like it, love. here’s part one!

— KAGEYAMA TOBIO.

his scent is calming. it’s strawberries and mint, and it refreshes you. it’s funny really, the way his favorite flavor of milk is strawberry and how he actually smells like the fruit. whenever you embrace him warmly, a cooling feeling washes over you—it feels like a day off. when you’re overworked and you need time to spend with self-care? yeah, tobio reminds you of that. he’s constantly telling you to take care of yourself more too(which is the irony in this situation). you feel a small pinch in your heart whenever he lets go of you(if he goes out of town for matches or gets up from cuddling). if he’s leaving the city for work, you’d shed a tear, telling him you’d miss him. and when you’d come back home, you’d wear any of his clothing. because kageyama reminds you of a calm afternoon, filled with the scent of strawberries and the alleviating agent like mint.

he does not order coffee. definitely the type of person to go to the vending machine to buy flavored milk instead of getting coffee. he thinks coffee shops are a waste of time. why would someone pay ten extra bucks for average coffee when you can just get sweet milk from the vending machine? you definitely bully him for this(just point and laugh, [y/n]. point and laugh). he’d get all flustered and yell at you, but then he’d end up hiding his face on a pillow or something. you’d go up to him and hug him, which would lead up to kageyama asking you, “so... the next time you get coffee, i’ll just wait outside, okay?”. you laugh at him again, telling him that he didn’t have to wait outside, but then he retorts with how the barista looks at him weirdly after he asked her if they sold flavored milk.

kageyama likes wearing a fixed set of colors. he’s not the type of person to go out of the ordinary and wear some absurd color like neon-green, but something like different shades of blue. he definitely doesn’t have two same colored shirts—even if they are, they’re in different shades. he mostly wears blue and black turtlenecks, but he doesn’t mind trying whites or greys either. he does blush every time you compliment him though, so maybe dial it down a little or he’ll combust(you don’t have to, you can just watch his brain go haywire then kiss his forehead to make him go redder than before).

— OIKAWA TŌRU

his scent is so sweet, it’s addicting. it’s either something floral like rose or lavender. or sometimes he’d go with the plain old smoked vanilla. his hugs are the best, really. they’re filled with the sweet aroma circling around the two of you as you inhale his scent. he’d stroke your hair as you hum against him in contentment, saying, “like the cologne, [y/n]-chan?”. you’d tease him, telling him he smelled like an eleven-year-old girl and he’d reply with, “hey! at least eleven-year-old girls know what they’re doing!”.

he does not like coffee. will straight up go to the barista and order the sweetest drink on the menu. this boy just does not do well with the bitterness of coffee. he doesn’t like it, and he’s in shock by how you can drink it so easily. “[y/n]-chan, how are you doing that?!”, he’d exclaim. you’d raise an eyebrow, asking him, “doing what, bub?”. although he really wants to melt at the nickname, he’d say, “that bitter monstrosity!”. this conversation leads nowhere except laughter and jokes, really. some teasing comments are thrown here and there; some criticizing oikawa for having such low tolerance for bitterness, and some at you for what an utter abomination you are for drinking coffee. tie the bow on the gift-box with a small teasing kiss and dancing in the kitchen without music at seven in the morning, because oikawa felt like it. your relationship is like the marriage of bitterness and sweetness—somewhere close to perfect.

he can wear anything and still look good. has a wide variety of turtlenecks—and he’ll definitely wear them according to his mood for the day. although most of the colors are on the lighter side, he has a few blacks in the mix as well. he likes the pastel-blue one the most(because, according to him, “blue is just my color, [y/n]-chan!”). he has the tendency to match with you. loves buying you the same shirts as him, because he thinks it’s adorable when you walk around with him and match his clothing. basks in the glory of when people look and compliment the two of you, and you blush(he thinks you’re cute, okay?).

— SUNA RINTARŌ

suna definitely smells like cigarettes and lime basil. he doesn’t smoke often, it’s just the scented candles he buys online(he thinks it’s funny because the candles are cigarette-scented). you often tell him he stinks, but he knows you’re only poking around. he knows you love the scent he gives off when you hold on to him just a little tighter, just a little longer, just a little closer. the kisses linger for a smidge longer, and he knows. he knows you love his scent and he knows you love him. he’s not cocky about it until you tease him though, because if you do say he stinks, he’ll pull you into a passionate kiss(and obviously, you don’t pull away). after he breaks the kiss, he’d say, “if i really do stink, you wouldn’t be sticking to me like glue.”

his coffee is either completely black, or just a normal latte. he doesn’t like really milky, or sweet coffee. also most definitely just uses coffee as a way to stay up(suna likes nights more than days). he likes staying up late with you, doing homework or anything really, until you’re dozing off next to him and he’s left in comfortable silence. he’ll run his hands through your hair, his slow breathing silent and his sharp eyes softened just by looking at you. he likes coffee. he really does. he likes coffee because it helps him stay awake and watch you peacefully. he falls asleep by four in the morning, and now it’s your turn to watch suna sleep. you make him a mug of coffee and breakfast. it’s a leisure-filled morning, and rin loves every part of it. he won’t tell you he does though, because you already know. and he knows you do.

suna rintarō in turtlenecks is a sight for sore eyes. he has a lot of greens, blacks, and greys. his style is to effortlessly look good, so he doesn’t actually care about what he wears unless it’s to impress someone(*cough* you) or for work. if he doesn’t have the energy to do something that’s eye-catching, he’ll just wear a turtleneck and pair it with plaid pants to call it a day. man still gets stares from people because of how effortlessly cool he is. he’s not even trying, which is the best part. he looks so good(cue you drooling in the background because suna in a black turtleneck and green plaid pants is just wow). and if he’s actually putting in effort for a date or something, he goes all the way with the accessories. rings, necklaces, maybe even wears his reading glasses because they look good with his overcoat. olive green turtleneck and white dickies would definitely suit him. after all, he wants to look the best for you.

— MIYA OSAMU.

he has one of the most comforting, woody scents ever. he has two bottles—one vetiver(it gives a smoky scent and he usually wears it to work) and one patchouli(more woodland-ish kind of scent. he wears it when he’s going out with you or on special occasions). you love the way he smells, because honestly, the most comforting time of the day is when he comes back home, and the first thing you do is hug him. you’ll take the dinner he made for the two of you at the restaurant and set it up as he changes and freshens up. his aroma overcomes you as the two of you sit down an talk about your day through the meal. his tired grin and you small giggles enough to make you feel content. and man, he’s the best to cuddle with as you sleep. he smells so good, it’s kind of scary. in the mornings, it’s almost hard to let go of him so you can get to work.

okay, we all know osamu is a sucker for food. but he’s also a pain in the ass when the two of you go to coffee shops. orders something fancy like café au lait, then continues to complain about how this particular coffee shop didn’t do the french drink justice. all the while, you’re just listening to him criticize the place(but you still love him, because he looks cute talking about the things he loves). you’ll leave the shop after an hour or so, and then just settle for a bowl of ramen from a small diner by your apartment because that seems to be the only thing that gets osamu off his high horse. by the end of the night, you’d tell him to quit acting like gordon ramsey. he’d retort by telling you that you would obviously prefer his food over gordon ramsey’s anyday(i mean, you can’t disagree with that. even if you tell him he’s being dumb, you know he’s right on the inside. osamu basically is a wizard with food).

osamu likes grey and black, and that’s about it. he’d try more stuff if you make him though. gets annoyed at the mall because you’re just picking out different colors for him to try and he’s just standing off to the side holding like ten different articles of clothing. he looks amazing in a chartreuse-green if you get him to wear it(will like how it look on his abs, he doesn’t tell you though). every canonical color suits him to be honest, just don’t go overboard with the neons or purples. he likes to keep it simple with the dark colors(black turtleneck osamu is a looker). and he definitely becomes all blushie-blushie if you tell him he looks pretty. looks away and puts his hand over his mouth a little(you should definitely take a picture of this, it looks so wrong and suggestive but it’s just him being a blushing mess). please, just hug him or something.

214 notes · View notes

sttngfashion · 3 years

Text

5.26 and 6.1 - Time’s Arrow

Oh my god. Y’all. It’s a new Fashion It So post. In the year of our Picard 2020. Yes.

For literal years, Charlie and I have been like UGH WE NEED TO DO TIME’S ARROW PARTS 1 AND 2 BUT IT’S JUST SUCH A MONSTER.

Well, I’m doing a complete rewatch of the series with my partner and we just got to these two, so IT IS TIME.

We open in a cave in San Francisco, where Data and Picard are checking something out:

Rent for the cave is $6,000 per month

Showing them around is this guy in a Science Outfit:

He’s ready to go night biking

We’ve seen this look before in both Silicon Avatar and Devil’s Due, and it’s functional, yet cute. Basically a windbreaker in jumpsuit form.

They find a couple of items in the cave, including a pocket watch from 1889 and also:

I left my head in San Francisco

IT’S DATA’S HEAD!!! And it’s been there for FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. What could have caused this? And why is Data’s head so absolutely terrifying?

Is that fondant

This head is, in a word, haunting. The 2020 of heads.

Data and Geordi chat in Ten-Forward about what the presence of Data’s head in the cave means. Data says it means he’s mortal; that someday he will die, and that’s comforting. Spoiler alert: that’s not what it means. But it’s a nice conversation.

Also, Guinan is here!!!

Merlot My God!!

Or maybe: Burgundy-lightful!! Or perhaps: De-Crimson-alize Sex Work!! Okay that last one was a stretch but I really think I missed my calling as a nail polish shade namer.

Anyway, she’s here in her classic look of a pizza-sized hat and a flowing gown/coat/top/robe. The collar here is a little too close to a mock turtleneck for my liking and honestly - this is a little staid for our friend Guinan. I want a TEXTURE or a SWEEP or some WIDE RIBBING or some PLEATS. Don’t worry, though...she will get plenty more later.

Then there’s some plot which frankly we DO NOT HAVE TIME to get into but let’s just say: the away team goes to a planet, there’s a temporal disturbance, and Data ends up here:

Huge mood

Where are we? Or should I say WHEN are we??

Well that old-timey font is a good clue...also the horse

Are we in the Old West land of an off-brand Disneyworld? Are we going to ride something called Large Lightning Mesa Train Tracks? What colorful characters will we meet here?

Winner of 1893’s Mustache Medal

This type of ‘stache is called a Fu Manchu, after the character Dr. Fu Manchu. It’s not...a great look? But it is memorable, which is sometimes enough. He’s also wearing a simple black cap, probably made of silk. He’s keeping it cazh.

So where are we?

SAN FRANCISCO, OPEN YOUR GOLDEN GATE / YOU’LL LET NOBODY WAIT / OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR

Yes, it’s San Francisco. And it’s *eyes popping out of head like a cartoon wolf seeing a busty babe* 1893!!!! That temporal disturbance was...disturbing.

So who else do we have hanging out?

Please check out our Vaudeville act, Knit Cap ‘n’ Bowly

These dudes understand those famous Bay Area MICROCLIMATES, amirite? We’ve got a Henley. We’ve got a buttondown. We’ve got a vest. We’ve got a coat. No matter which way the thermometer decides to go, THEY ARE READY. Also loving the pop of forest green on Knit Cap’s knit cap.

We also have a 49er:

No, it’s not Steve Young. I googled “famous 49ers” to complete this joke so if there is a more famous 49er please let me know

It’s a literal 49er. Since it’s 1893, this guy’s been hanging around in town for a while, and he’s also familiar with the layering techniques one must master if one is to conquer the Bay Area’s climate. He also has a kicky Colonel Sanders-type tie. He asks Data for money and gives him a few panhandling tips. He’s chill. We like him. But don’t get too attached if you know what I mean!!!!

Data decides he needs somewhere to stay, so he finds a hotel:

Brian.

Why is this so funny to me. Brian. Why would you name your hotel Brian. Brian!!!! I know it’s a last name but like...Brian. HOTEL BRIAN.

This bellhop’s name is not Brian:

Where’s your hat, bro

He’s giving us a classic bellhop look, complete with too many buttons. He gives Data the very important information that there’s a poker game happening in the back of the hotel, which means: Data is about to be RICH rich.

The poker game includes a few good looks:

Louie Anderson IS Wolverine IN a Lands’ End barn coat

Two plaids? Sir...I salute you

Colonel Sanders Goes to Carnaval

Data, of course, wipes the floor with them so hard that he wins their clothes:

Didn’t get that barn coat tho

Yes, that’s the actual vest and the actual hat of those guys from the previous scene. Oh, I love it. I love Data in a vest over his uniform and I love Data with a feather in his cap. Let’s call it macaroni.

Meanwhile, out on the street, the plot is happening:

Beige: inescapable

This is our first taste of the decadent 1890’s sleeves that appear in this episode, and these aren’t even the best sleeves!! These are an amuse-bouche of sleeves. An armuse-bouche, if you will.

Anyway, these two are aliens disguised as humans who are here to steal the 49er’s life energy.

Pew pew pew

I told you not to get attached!!!

Back on the Enterprise, Guinan is doing mixology:

She would never call it something as stupid as mixology though

She tells Picard that he needs to go check out the temporal disturbance, too, even though captains don’t normally go on away missions, and then she gives him this look:

It’s that serious

When Guinan looks at you like this, you do what she says.

Now this outfit is much better than the earlier one. We have some pleated sleeves, which I didn’t even think was a thing you could DO. We have some sort of functional(?) strap(??) across the front. We even have matching fingerless gloves which always make a look A LOOK. And if Picard wasn’t sure whether he needed to go on this away mission, she then gives him THIS look:

Okay now it’s REALLY serious

Back in 1893, Data is making something:

It’s actually just a really complicated and large music box that plays “I Left My Head in San Francisco”

He’s gotten his hands on some more period-appropriate clothing, including a bow tie and a vest. Since he’s not wearing arm garters and his sleeves appear to be the correct length for his arms, we can conclude that the shirt was custom-made, not ready-made, because Data is now a baller due to his poker earnings.

Then, Data sees this in the paper:

I know her!! From work!!!!

Yes, it’s Guinan. In 1893. In a hat!!!!

We cut to the literary reception, which is honestly not as well-attended as I thought it would be, considering it got a GIANT photo of Guinan on page THREE of the paper, but okay. And who should we spy there but:

You’ll love my secret blend of 11 herbs and spices

No, it’s not Colonel Sanders. (Sorry, I really have Colonel Sanders on the brain because of that Lifetime movie.) It’s Samuel Clements, AKA Mark Twain. I had an English teacher in high school who explained the origin of his pseudonym (it indicates a mark of two fathoms, aka twelve feet, on a steamboat) and for some reason she shouted MAAAARK TWAAAAAIN when she told us that story so now her delivery of that line is in my head until I die I guess.

Anyway, it’s Mark Twain.

He’s wearing his iconic white linen suit with a black bow tie, and he’s also wearing a lot of prosthetics, because the actor playing him (Jerry Hardin, AKA Deep Throat from The X-Files AKA Melora Hardin AKA Jan Levinson-Gould’s dad) (was that too many AKAs) (you get it, right?) didn’t look enough like Mark Twain, I guess? In conclusion: what if eyebrow wigs were a thing?

Twain is having a chit chat with “Madame Guinan,” who is wearing what can only be called a sumptuous gown:

It’s 11:30 and the gown is sumptin’ sumptin’

There are so many ELEMENTS to this look! First of all: the color. Royal purple. Fit for a queen. Appropriate.

Then: those sleeves! These sleeves are known as “leg of mutton sleeves” because they KIND OF look like a leg of mutton. Have you ever seen a leg of mutton? I haven’t. I’ve only seen these sleeves. Plus they have a stripe?? No, I don’t know why, but I LOVE IT.

The cuffs and the cravat bring this from “dress” to “lewk.” Top it all off with this hat and you have a true 1893 mood.

What bird is that feather even from

We get a few good extra looks in this scene as well:

Pink Lady is NOT wearing a corset

Look, sometimes you don’t have enough period-appropriate undergarments for all the background people and that’s fine. But I WILL notice.

Is that Loretta Lynn

I am loving all of this! That purple dress is fantastic, those stripes? I die. Military man has some fun flair on his shoulder, and there is a dude in a beautiful turban back there. Plus, another Black lady in addition to Guinan and That One Ensign Who Is On The Bridge Sometimes.

Data rolls in to the literary event in a different suit with a CRAVAT:

Craving a cravat

Data is like “we serve together on the same starship in the 24th century” and Guinan is like “huh” but then she’s like “okay” which...I’m not sure if I would believe that? But let’s just say it’s fine.

Over in the 24th century, the literal entire bridge crew is checking out the temporal disturbance and I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL:

Blue Man Group...on ACID

These beings are like ghosts but also like Dr. Manhattan but also like pure energy.

Then everyone goes through the temporal disturbance AND THE SEASON ENDS.

Fortunately for you, this post will continue...right now.

Okay, so we’re back in San Francisco in 1893. You can tell by the horses:

Also the fruit carts

Samuel Clemens is strolling around with a reporter, telling him that he has a great story for him that involves time travelers and, like, protecting the nation.

Here’s the thing about this episode’s version of Mark Twain: he’s kind of a dick. Was the real Mark Twain kind of a dick? I just feel like Mark Twain should be JAZZED about meeting time travelers and not acting like a fuckin’ time cop* and trying to put the Enterprise crew on blast.

Anyway I love his double-breasted vest.

See my vest

The reporter’s hat is technically period-accurate, but that style is SO associated with the 1930s-1950s that I would have gone with something else. He looks cute though.

Meanwhile, Data is wearing a three-piece suit:

My positronic olfactory synapses are interpreting something as...a fart

I hate brown, but this is fine.

Additionally, the beige baddies from before are back and this time, they’ve got a SNAKE CANE:

Love the snake cane, hate how they suck the life out of people

But we are not here for them, we are here to see our faves in period clothing. Our first look is at Riker, who is dressed as an actual cop, not a time cop like Mark Twain:

The past just had...so many buttons

I guess if you’re a time-traveling white man there are worse disguises than a cop. But WHERE DID HE GET THIS UNIFORM? I choose to believe that he found a cop with a similar large handsome body to his own and beat the shit out of him and stole his clothes. Now we can all enjoy imagining a cop being beat up.

The badge that Riker is wearing is a great historical detail; the SFPD started wearing them in 1886 and are reportedly the first law enforcement agency to have worn the seven-pointed star, which is now a common shape among sheriff’s departments across the United States.

But let’s move on to a better look: Dr. Beverly Crusher:

Curlz MT

Okay, now I have more questions. Beverly obviously wouldn’t beat someone up for their clothes, so where did SHE get HER outfit? And who did her hair? Did she do her OWN hair? Where did she get a curling iron? Does she know how to use a curling iron? Was it one of those ones that’s actually made of iron that you have to heat up in a fireplace?

We will get answers to zero (0) of these questions.

We actually get a much better look at her dress later, so let’s focus on that cloak!!! I love it and I also love her hat. Okay, I guess I had less to say about those than I thought.

Bev and Will, along with the rest of the officers, have somehow procured a room/apartment in some lady’s lodging house. It’s cute!

They gave it 5 stars on AirBnB

This also raises questions. How did they get this room? How many bedrooms does it have? Are they sharing one large bed? If so, who has to sleep crossways at the foot of the bed and why is it Geordi? We will get zero answers to these questions as well, so let’s move on to arguably the hottest costume in this two-parter:

I’ll be in Holodeck 4

Whewwwwwww. He’s giving us a rolled sleeve. He’s giving us a casual tweed vest. The pants? They’re perfect. And he KNOWS how that slouch is working. It’s working VERY well. But the Irish landlady? She’s having NONE OF IT.

Absolutely NO nonsense

She needs the rent, but Picard charms her and she leaves. So I guess that’s how they got the room. Her look is knitwear-forward:

Eileen Fisher does sound like an Irish name

She’s got a shawl AND a cardigan! The cozy factor is OFF THE CHARTS. She also has a brooch, because a touch of fancy is always welcome. I will say that her hair is a little more fashion-forward than I’d expect for a woman of her age and station. This is straight up 1890s hair, and she would probably still be rocking an 1860s look, which isn’t as sweepy and would likely involve more braids. Still, she looks lovely.

Geordi is also here looking dapper:

Make the collar as high as you can. I want to be sliced open by my own collar

You CAN go wrong with a three-piece suit, but it’s difficult to. He can’t wear his visor, so he has some kicky shades which we’ll get a better look at in a sec.

Back at the Hotel Brian (lol), the bellboy (who we learn in this scene is Jack London, inspired to be a writer by Mark Twain [citation needed]) lets Mark Twain into Data’s room and allows him to look around unsupervised. This is very bad hotel management.

Great Scott

Then Data and Guinan show back up, and Mark Twain hides in an armoire.

One short day in the emerald brocade

I think one reason I love Guinan’s looks so much, both in the 24th and the 19th century, is that our color palette is very similar. We’re both winters. Bold jewel tones are the vibe. This one is in a beautiful deep green fabric with what looks like a velvet flocking pattern on it. The collar is also velvet, and I love that sleeve with a flounce on top like there wasn’t already enough fucking fabric on the sleeve so they just added a random piece to be like “yes, bitch. I’m a sleeve.”

Naturally, the hat is also jaunty af:

San Francisco’s hottest milliner is: Madame Guinan

This hat has everything: feathers, netting, a brim, an angle that makes you think it’s going to fall off but it doesn’t. We stan.

Meanwhile, Picard is setting up a sensor in a hospital while wearing a hat:

I’m bowled over

We haven’t even asked where Picard got these clothes, but I would like to point out that he’s dressed as a lower-class guy, while Riker is a cop, and Geordi looks like a gentleman. Was there even a discussion they all had about how they would disguise themselves? Was Picard like “I just really want to wear a beat-up bowler hat” and since he’s the captain, they extrapolated from there? This episode is NOT CONCERNED about any of this. They all have clothes, end of story.

Bev even has TWO outfits!!

Hello nurse!!!!

I love this look. She still has her unlikely hairstyle happening, which means her nurse’s cap is sitting atop her voluminous hairstyle. (Not very practical, but realistic!) She’s sporting a simple striped dress and a button-on apron. (Look closely and you can see the two buttons holding the apron to the dress.) The fabric underneath might be cotton seersucker, but it’s likely a lightweight cotton or linen twill. You can see how closely her look matches these nurses from a similar time period:

Hello nurses!!!!

Deanna is also in this scene and this episode, but you wouldn’t know it from what she’s given to do. HUGE SHOCKER: TROI NOT GIVEN ENOUGH TO DO IN AN EPISODE. 🙃

She still looks beautiful:

Why aren’t capelets more popular

We never get a really GREAT look at her whole outfit, but I can tell you that it has a capelet, it’s in the red family, and the hat has a lot of business going on. For those reasons: approved. It has a flounce in the back too:

More fabric = more wealth

Sometimes I think about just how much fabric it took to make these old-timey dresses and I’m like...how did anyone get anything done?? It takes me like 4 weeks to finish a pair of leggings and those have like 5 seams and I own a serger. These historical bitches were sewing whole ass dresses in no time at all.

Okay, so Bev is in this hospital and here come some more energy-stealing aliens, disguised as healthcare professionals this time:

I cannot take a medical professional wearing a LIGHT BROWN TOP HAT seriously, sorry

Bev AND this energy-stealing alien have BOTH managed to get their hands on the SAME nurse’s uniform?? I guess in the case of the alien, she is a shape-shifter, so she got her clothes from...that. And her hair.

I hate this light brown top hat. If you’re going to wear a top hat, don’t DISRESPECT IT by making it BROWN, but if you’re going to make it brown, make it a good brown, like chocolate. Stupid energy-stealing aliens.

There’s a skirmish, the energy-stealing aliens disappear, and the real cops show up:

MOUSTACHE

Of course, the cops showing up is bad, because when has a cop showing up ever made a bad situation better? Never. Defund the police, but don’t defund handlebar mustaches. Those can stay.

Fortunately, Data has gotten a ping on that machine he was building before and shows up on a motherfucking HORSE:

Brent just wanted to show off

He’s back in his brown striped suit and red tie. Okay.

Everyone returns to the boarding house to suss out the situation, and we get a look at what Riker is rocking underneath his cop jacket:

Suspend me daddy

You can see very clearly here how the collar is not actually attached to the shirt. This was a thing people in the olden days did so they could wear their shirt for multiple days in a row and just switch out the collar and cuffs so they looked clean. As someone who is wearing the same sweatshirt for the third day in a row, I support this method. (If you’re interested on more info about collars, here is a very enjoyable article about them.)

We are also blessed with a better look at Deanna’s sleeves and bodice:

Black lace cuffs? Decadent!!!

You can also see Geordi’s shades, which suit him really nicely. One thing I’ve been enjoying on this rewatch is just how well LeVar Burton can act without having his eyes visible. He’s great. Let’s just all think about how great LeVar Burton is for a second

And also Bev’s dress:

I legitimately want this dress

I don’t think those buttons are functional. Can you imagine how annoying THAT would be? But I am absolutely in love with this dress. Two paisleys, Beverly???? A goddess. I’m also dying for that brooch with the chain. A+ look all around, great work.

Finally, FINALLY, Guinan meets the rest of the crew:

When you meet someone you won’t actually know for 500 years

She is wearing a hat that looks like a toilet paper cozy. Did your grandma have one of these? They’re so stupid and I love them so much.

Picard and Guinan meet for what is the first time for her, but not the first time for him, and honestly it is...sensual?????

If I got a m’lady from P. Stew I wouldn’t even mind

Patrick and Whoopi truly do some nice work in this ep. But we are here to yell about clothes, so: LOOK AT THIS DRESS ON AN EXTRA:

Gimme dat dress

I just want that dress to wear around my house. I legitimately bought an 18th century costume dress to do just that, so don’t think I won’t literally do this.

OKAY, WE ARE ALMOST TO THE END.

The crew, plus Guinan, go back to the cave where this all started:

Cave Club, the only club that meets in a cave

We get a nice look at the bodice of Guinan’s dress here and guess what: MORE BUTTONS. Buttons on the lapels, and also buttons on the front panel with the pointy top. I wonder if she has multiple front panels for that dress in different colors, like a Swatch watch.

Unbeknownst to them, Mark Twain followed them!! Then there’s a scuffle with the energy-stealing aliens during which a few things happen:

Data’s head flies off

Mark Twain gets sucked into the temporal disturbance

Guinan gets hurt

Picard stays behind to make sure Guinan is okay

So we end up with Mark Twain on the Enterprise, where he sees Worf, and he’s like:

Buh-WHAT

Worf is also confused:

This is...extremely perplexing

We have a few more looks back on the Enterprise, including Regular Guinan:

ShoulderSpreads™: The Bed Spread for Your Shoulders

I love love LOVE this outfit. The color is perfect, the shoulderspreads are perfect, the front draping is perfect. It looks like a velvet housedress from the 1960s except FANCY which is kind of my ideal aesthetic. And it’s red (my fave).

We get a quick glimpse at the barber uniform:

Bitch let me pass, idc if you wrote Huck Finn

This barber does. not. give. a. fuck!!!!

Geordi reattaches Data’s head, the one they already had, which means this whole thing was a ding dang closed loop. The reattachment also kind of diminishes the whole conversation they had earlier about how Data’s head in the cave meant that Data could die someday, because...he didn’t. He still might, but his head is back and he’s fine now.

Meanwhile, Picard is still back in 1893 and they have to go get him, but only one person can come back through the temporal disturbance, so Mark Twain is like “duh I’ll go get him.”

And finally Guinan and Picard can talk about how their friendship spans 500 years!!!!

Hey girl

Hey

YOU’RE WELCOME

*abolish the police

#SEASON 5 #SEASON 6 #TNG #TNG FASHION #STAR TREK #STAR TREK FASHION

276 notes · View notes

neocrush · 4 years

Note

flirting w chenle on knowing bros seems like it'll be a wild ride HAHA i love the concept~~

thank u so much for sending in an ask 🥰

lezgeddit

flirting with chenle on knowing bros

you were a member of a girl group with 6 members

you being the youngest ofc

that day you were filming a variety show

knowing bros

and you LOVED that show

mainly bc heechul’s in it

and he’s hilarious asf

and bc he’s dating your senior

anyways u were told ur group wasn’t the only guest they had for the episode

the only info u received was that it was a boy group

part of you hoped it was nct dream

you had developed a tiny your leader would say giant crush on a certain chinese member

renjun

jk no its one and only zhong chenle

you had watched previous variety shows w nct dream in it

and he never failed to amaze you

his personality, voice, charm, and screaming never failed to put a smile on your face

the only interaction you had was during boom era

you had just debuted and both ur group and dream were nominated for first place on a music show

after winning, the boys of dream congratulated ur group in the hallways

“you guys just debuted? that’s so impressive wow” the blonde one, jeno exclaimed

you swore you saw ur leader blush a little

“congratulations~ i can’t lie and say ur song sucks” haechan — you recognized — chuckled

renjun started singing ur groups title track and the boys started dancing along to the chorus

both groups shared a laugh and just overall had a great time

it was great

with all the pressure both groups got from their big companies, it was nice to just laugh everything off once in a while

until ur managers called you to return to the dorms

and their manager called theirs

as it was you, chenle, and jisung’s curfew

you said ur goodbyes and as u were leaving

chenle accidentally bumped on ur shoulder

u gasped from the sudden feeling of ur bare shoulder in contact with his denim jacket

“oh my gosh i’m so sorry! ah~ you okay?” he said

eyebrows furrowed in the cutest way possible as he was worried

u blushed and got lost in his eyes

then u came back to reality as u shook ur head

“ah yes.. i-i’m fine.. sunbaenim” you bowed as he was technically ur senior

“oh okay that’s a relief. by the way, just call me chenle oppa. sunbaenim’s too formal, don’t you think?”

“o-oppa..?” you questioned while tilting ur head

“y-you don’t have to if it makes u uncomfortable!” he blushed, regretting what he just said

“no it’s okay. i think it’s cute. bye chenle oppa!” you giggled as you waved at him and left to go to your managers car.

he smiled to himself for a good minute until jaemin called him to get into the car

damn jyp why u gotta have a stupid three year dating ban

was all the orange-haired boy could think of

fast forward ur group had ur first comeback already n dream came back w ridin

as you were both promoting at the same time, the chances were very likely they’d be the other group on the episode

filming started and there you were w ur groupmates w ur school uniforms on

u wore a white sweater and a white dress shirt underneath with a short plaid skirt that had a matching tie hanging around your collar

after introductions and a conversation w the cast

a knock was heard from the door on ur left

a blue haired boy walked in confidently

na jaemin????

and so came the rest of dream

OH FRICK CHENLE’S HERE

ACT NATURAL

ur group moved a little to the right to make room for the boys as they walked to the desk where all the guests would introduce themselves

they did their greeting which u memorized in ur head

a bunch of conversations and segment went by

until the cast introduced a new one

it was called flutter my heart

cheesy

but cute

the challenge was easy

one person had to use a machine that would detect their heartbeat

and the other would have to try their best to make the opposing player’s heartbeat go faster than usual

u were divided into two teams

ur group vs dream

duh

laughter was everywhere as some of ur groupmates try flirt w dream and vice versa

starting with ur visual cringing at hyucks aegyo

and then ur leader making jeno lose in a second by winking at him

renjun serenading ur main vocalist

which turned into a duet

ur japanese member reciting anime lines

in which jaemin fell hard for

not in a dirty way no

then jisung calling ur oldest “noona”

in which she cringed

poor sungie lost :(

then as if the writers knew about ur crush on him

u were paired w him

it was ur turn to make his heart flutter

were u nervous? duh.

but were u gonna take advantage of the situation to flirt with ur crush of 3 months? absolutely.

so they put the detector on his chest and you had 5 minutes to make this boi go loco

u were bold and went for his hands

ur tiny fingers intertwined with his slender ones

even without looking at the machine

u could tell his heartbeat was going one million miles per hour

u were only holding his hands and his ears were already red asf

“oppa~ you’re so cute when you’re flustered~” you say with sparkling eyes

if ur hands in his didnt already kill him, then ur intense eye contact would

u let go of him hands as you crashed ur body in his and placed your arms on his shoulders

“oppa have you eaten today?” you innocently asked

“i-i.. n-no..” he couldn’t even breathe steadily

u smirked at his cute reaction

u reached for his hands once again, bodies still inches apart

“me too” you pouted

“should we go out then? just the two of us?” you stared at his fully red face

“pleaseeee” you pouted

chenle swore he was mentally melting inside

“she’s so competitive!” jisung yelled in the background

you couldn’t hear him tho, u were too busy thinking of ur next move

“20 seconds left!” heechul reminded

“oppa am i pretty?” u rhetorically asked

the taller boy opened his mouth to say yes, looking for revenge

but before his plan could succeed you placed a finger on his lips

“don’t say anything. just kiss me if your answer if yes.” you calmly said

you were exploding inside tho

ur members were screaming

some cringing

some actually enjoying it

they never knew this side of their maknae

“i guess so~” he muttered, enough for u to hear

u were taken aback by his answer in a good way as u suddenly blushed

he inched his face closer to yours and—

“TIMES UP!” heechul exclaimed

“woahhh i think you won that one” your groups visual said in shocked

you laughed as you turn back to ur members to see their reactions

ur gaze returned to chenle as he was still as red as a tomato

dreamies teasing him more than ever

although you didn’t win

curse u jeno why tf does ur heart beat so fast

chenle still couldn’t stop thinking about what happened

filming ended and you went to your waiting rooms to change back

you were at the women’s bathroom as you were fixing ur hair, looking at the mirror

you had tucked out ur shirt that was previously tucked in and slowly you unbuttoned the lower buttons that were super tight

“hey,” a lower voice called out

“pervert!” you exclaimed without knowing who it was as you covered ur lower stomach

for all you could know it could be a creepy staff member

he raised his arms in defense

“ah it’s just you chenle oppa”

u released ur hands from ur body

chenle’s eyes couldn’t help but land on ur abs

ears getting red again as he looked back into ur eyes

“i gotta go soon so i’ll make this short”

u tilted ur head as a sign to listen

“i don’t know if u were being serious or if it was just for the sake of the show but u should eat. it’s 3pm fill ur stomach. wouldn’t want u starving” he smiled as he handed you a block of chewing gum with pink wrapping paper around it

“ur so cheesy oppa” you blushed “but thank you”

wide smiled were exchanged as you bid your goodbyes

eh why not eat it now, i’m in the mood for something sweet

you unwrapped the hot pink paper

as you were about to pop the tiny block in ur mouth

u spotted something written on the paper with what seemed like a black sharpie

you’re so cute. wanna have rappoki some time in myeongdong? -lele oppa

ur whole face was as red as renjuns in mfal

but not as red as when u turned the paper around to see

text or call me whenever you can. don’t wanna lose a gem like you. xxx-xxx-xxx (my number if u were wondering lol)

you chuckled as you read that and the last little message

i’d wait all three years if it meant getting papa park jinyoung’s approval

he really was one of a kind

zhong chenle.

363 notes · View notes

insomniac-jay · 3 years

Text

Redoing My Remastered THH Girls Redesigns

I needed to fix them bc they were so ugly. I might do a redesign series of if I to keep the high school aesthetic.

Reblogs > Likes

I wanted to give her both detective and spy vibes bc I think she’s great with both.

She has shorter hair but I kept the braid. Her canon jacket now becomes a trenchcoat with large gold buttons and purple belt, sleeveless black catsuit, white long sleeve undershirt, and her purple boots bc I like them. Her coat has a high collar and the symbol of the Kirigiri Detective Agency on her lapel. The catsuit has a zipper on it so she can easily take it off whenever she wishes. She keeps her gloves but they’re longer. She also wears cat-eye glasses and a chain on her belt.

Sayaka Maizono

I WILL get her right this time. I decided to do mostly idol but with some hints of y2k in there bc I’m still not over y2k Sayaka. I also took some inspo from Toastie’s redesign of Sayaka and the comeback outfits of the idol group Oh My Girls.

She wears a light blue headband with a big pink bow on it, white blouse with frills on the sleeves and collar, dark blue tie, light blue button up tube top, asymmetrical plaid pink pleated skirt with three small belts that connect to a plain white skirt, dark blue kitty socks, and holographic heels. She also wears music note earrings.

Celestia Ludenberg

I wanted to go for a bit of a Queen of Hearts aesthetic for this one. I was also inspired by an artist on Instagram who gave Celeste a skirt resembling a Roulette table (if anyone can tell me the artist’s name that would be nice).

I have two main fashion hcs for Celeste: Gothic lolita and Y2k so I’m gonna try and combine those. She wears a black mesh shirt, black lolita style off shoulder dress with short puffed sleeves and red lining, the skirt is in the shape of a Roulette table, light red petticoat with different card suits underneath, black stockings, and her heels from canon. I decided to give her jewelry that reflects her desire to be royal and her talent of gambling.

Aoi Asahina

I want them to look like a swimmer.

I gave them curly hair, freckles, bean eyebrows, and brown eyes bc I say so. She wears a pair of teal goggles, light pink swimsuit with a donut on it, ocean blue shorts with mermaid scales, and a pair of baby blue Crocs with charms on it. She also wears a cute mermaid hairclip.

Chihiro Fujisaki

I put her hair in pigtails and made her chubbier bc I want that for her. She also has freckles and bean eyebrows and braces.

Chihiro wears a light green tweed hoodie with programming and coding pins and the collar from her canon outfit, white dress shirt, brown sweater vest, and a pair of cute pajama pants. She also wears light green Crocs with charms.

Toko Fukawa

I wanted to give them a mix of nerdy and dark academia at the same time as well as took inspo from her beta design. I got rid of the braids bc they’re ugly and replaced them with a bun.

She wears a dark purple blazer with white lining, white dress shirt, coral turtleneck, dark purple skirt with a slit bc it’s Toko, knee high socks with garterbelts, and black dress shoes.

Sakura Oogami

Queen I’m so sorry I haven’t done you justice in the past. This time I will.

She wears a red sports bra with a trans pride flag and floral designs on it, pink sweatpants, a cute bunny hoodie, and some boxing shoes. I decided to tie her hair up bc it’s gonna get in the way of your fighting, queen.

Mukuro Ikusaba

He wears a green tank top, black long sleeve shirt, camo vest, baggy black pants, and combat boots. He also wears a dog tag necklace and a black jacket as well as carries a sniper in a case on his back.

Junko Enoshima

She wears a big red fur coat, monochrome spaghetti strap crop top with monochrome lacing, red pencil skirt, fishnet stockings, and red pumps. A pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses rest atop its head and she walks around with a little Monokuma cane for extra flair.

#danganronpa redesign #kyoko kirigiri #sayaka maizono #celestia ludenberg #aoi asahina #chihiro fujisaki #toko fukawa #sakura oogami #mukuro ikusaba #junko enoshima #danganronpa trigger happy havoc

25 notes · View notes

in-class-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Blue Star | Oikawa x Reader | Ch.1

- Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

- Word Count: ~ 3,900

- Genres: Fluff, angst, Ushijima doesn’t know what a meme is

- CW: Mild swearing

- Summary: Sometimes, (Y/N) wonders if it was hard for her father to send her away. To a new prefecture, a new home, a new school. It all just might be worth it when after becoming the (suspiciously knowledgeable) manager of the Aoba Johsai boys’ volleyball club, she meets Oikawa Tooru. Together, they do their best to exorcise demons they thought would never leave. They learn about progress, when to strive for it, and when to accept the realities that cannot be changed.

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

Sweaty and shaking, (Y/N) sat upright in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The walls were eggshell white, bare, pristine as if they had been untouched. There were no souvenirs or personal belongings anywhere, save for a short pyramid of boxes sitting in the corner.

Stiff, unused sheets wrapped around her, nothing like her beloved bed set back home.

‘Oh, that’s right…” she thought, ‘This is home now.’

Her mind flashed back to the busy day before, where she said goodbye to her mother and had the movers bring only some of her belongings to her new apartment so that the space didn’t completely fill up with unpacked boxes.

After some long, deep breaths, (Y/N) turned her attention to the obnoxious noise her phone was making.

The overly bright device read ‘6:20’.

(Y/N) flopped back down on her bed.

She ran a hand down her face, groaning.

“I don’t really need an education, right? I’m still pretty flexible. I could probably drop out and become a stripper, right, Hubble? The club down the street is always trying to hire new people.”

Across the room, the round orange tabby gazed back at her judgmentally.

The teen rolled her eyes at her pet, “Thanks for the support, Hubs.”

Once in the bathroom after a long struggle to drag herself out of bed, (Y/N) rested her weight against the sink. Gently touching the bags under her eyes, she sighed.

“I’ve looked better,” she said to herself, “Hey! Bad kitty!”

She tried to nudge Hubble off the counter, only for the feline to look at her with a look of even lesser interest than she gave frogs or mice.

Realistically, (Y/N) could lift the cat of the counter herself, but honestly, she didn’t have the energy to do so.

Rather than get dressed for school, she sat down on the edge of the custom made bathtub.

Lips pursed, she said to her cat, “Hey, at least you got to come with me, rather than stay home with mom and dad. That’s good.”

Hubble gave her the facial equivalent of crickets chirping.

Snatching her new uniform from its hook, yanking the brown plaid skirt up her thighs, she grumbled to herself, “First I get exiled to a whole new prefecture, and now I’m talking to my cat, who has also decided to be a dick to me, but this is what I needed, right?” she asked sarcastically, “A ‘change of pace.’”

She tucked in the lilac dress shirt far more aggressively than necessary. Her sigh of relief was cut short when she spotted the cream vest and a blazer that she had to wear.

“Why does this stupid uniform have so many damn layers!” she screamed into the empty apartment.

Soon after, her shoulders sagged in resignation. Expertly lacing up the uniform tie, she sighed for the nth time since she woke up. There was no use fighting it any more. This empty, desolate apartment was her new home. Aoba Johsai was her new school. No amount of anger was going to change that.

She recalled the conversation she had with her childhood friend before she left.

“Wakatoshi said to just keep to myself. That’s easy. I can do that. Of course…” she glanced over to the box pyramid on the other side of her bare apartment.

(Y/N) stalked over, picking up the box on top, securely sealed with red duct tape. A scowl marred her already unpleasant expression.

Desperate to get it out of her sight, she shoved the box unceremoniously into her deep bedroom closet, where it (hopefully) would never bother her again.

“It’s kind of weird to get a transfer student in the middle of second year.”

“Maybe one of her parents got a new job or something.”

“What if she’s a delinquent?”

‘You know, it costs you nothing to mind your own freaking business.’

“All right, class, settle down,” the teacher raised her voice just slightly. “This is (L/N) (Y/N). She’s our new transfer student, and she’ll be the boys’ volleyball club manager this year. Make sure you all treat her well. Please have a seat in front of Iwaizumi-san.”

(Y/N) bowed, “Thank you, Yukino-sensei.”

The woman nodded, “Of course. I hope you enjoy your time here at Aoba Johsai.”

(Y/N) slid into the desk in front of a tan, spiky-haired boy who she recognized from middle school, only now it looked like his biceps were about to bust his uniform sleeves. It took her a second to realize who it was.

“Hajime!”

(Y/N) froze, worried they were no longer on a first-name basis, but the teenager just smiled back at her.

“(Y/N)! How’ve you been?”

“Eh, same old, same old. But it looks like you’re doing great! You’ve gotten so much bulkier since middle school! What have they been feeding you?” she said, causing him to laugh and ruffle her hair.

In fear of Yukino-sensei’s wrath, the class stayed relatively quiet. Though, people were stealing glances at her a noticeable amount. In their defense, they had a valid reason. One of the most intimidating students alive was being extremely friendly to an unknown, unheard transfer student. The stares were annoying, but not distractingly so.

The moment the final bell rang, a cluster of students swarmed (Y/N)’s desk.

“(L/N)-san, why did you transfer?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“(L/N)-san, how did you get the manager position?”

Ah, the manager position. That one came up a lot. Honestly, she didn’t see why people were so worked up over it.

She couldn’t exactly ignore her classmates, so she responded in as few words as possible, “I had to,” “No,” “I asked for it.” She kept her answers brief, hoping her fellow students would find the lack of response boring rather than alluring.

“(L/N),” Iwaizumi called out.

Her head immediately snapped to where he was standing by the door.

“You’re our new manager, right? Want me to show you where the gym is?” he asked gruffly.

(Y/N) grabbed her school supplies and practically ran over to Iwazumi, who had a tall brunette boy standing behind him.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

On the walk to the gym, Iwaizumi introduced the brunette, Oikawa, to her.

“I was Iwa-chan’s handsomer, much more popular friend, remember?”

Oh, she definitely remembered him. Was she about to tell him that, though? Not a chance. She pretended to think for a moment, then shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san, that doesn’t ring a bell.” She tilted her head, “Besides, Hajime here is a perfect 10, so I don’t know where this ‘handsomer’ business came from.”

While Oikawa stopped in indignation, (Y/N) walked on as Iwaizumi followed, laughing shamelessly.

“It’s not like you remember me, either,” she added.

Oikawa pouted, “That’s not my fault! I was invested in volleyball, not cute girls.”

(Y/N) ignored him and the three of them walked along the school hallway in silence for a while. (Y/N) did her best to keep her mouth shut, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“Hajime? Do you know why the manager position is so important to people around here?” she asked tentatively.

Iwaizumi barked a laugh, “That’s because--”

“-because I’m on the volleyball team! The manager gets to spend time near me, which is something pretty much everyone around here wants,” Oikawa winked and made his signature peace sign.

He grinned charmingly at (Y/N). Iwaizumi facepalmed. (Y/N) stared back blankly.

“Sure,” she deadpanned.

“Huh? You’re the one that asked!” Oikawa protested.

“She didn’t ask for an egotistical answer like that, Crappykawa,” Iwaizumi growled. He turned to (Y/N) once again, “As annoying and stupid as that answer is, he’s not entirely wrong. He’s really popular for some reason.”

“Weird.”

“I know, right?”

“Hey, don’t gang up on me!”

(Y/N) ducked under Oikawa’s arm into the gym, turning slightly to thank him over her shoulder. The first person to greet her was the short, stout Seijoh head coach.

“Well, if it isn’t (L/N) (Y/N). You have no idea how happy I was to hear you’d be transferring to our school,” Coach Irihata gave the teen a small nod. “Though, I wish it were under different circumstances,” he grimaced.

(Y/N) bowed at him respectfully, “You and I both, Coach. I’ll put all my focus into being your team manager from now on.”

The older man laughed, “I don’t doubt that. Let me introduce you to the team.”

He led her to stand at the edge of the court.

“This here is Mizoguchi, the coach. He’s a bit of a hardass.”

��Are you allowed to be saying these things, Coach?”

“Were you planning on reporting me, (L/N)?”

“Touche.”

Coach Mizoguchi had all the boys line up. The two coaches and (Y/N) walked down the line.

“These are our first-years, Kyoutani, Watari, and Yahaba. Our second years, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, Oikawa--”

‘They’re an odd group. Not horrible mismatched, but definitely not inherently interwoven like other teams I’ve seen.’

“We’ll be playing quick, 3-on-3 practice matches so (Y/N) can see what you can do.”

Some of the boys looked surprised, others even leaned over and whispered confused words to each other. At the same time, their new manager felt every drop of blood draining out of her face.

(Y/N) leaned in, “Coach, may I speak to you for a moment?” she whispered frantically.

Irihata allowed her to lead him out of earshot.

“I know I’ve asked a lot of you lately, Coach, but if we could call as little attention to me as possible, I would be eternally grateful. I doubt anyone will say anything, but if we could avoid giving them unnecessary hints, that would be ideal.”

He quirked a brow slightly, “(L/N), this is just a small request. You don’t have to grovel every time you ask something of me.”

(Y/N) fiddled with her track jacket, “I know. You’ve just done so much for me already.”

“So much by your standards, very little by mine. All I had to do was put in a good word for you. You secret’s safe with me, (L/N). Do your best as our manager,” he clapped her on the shoulder before gesturing for her to head back to the courts.

By the time practice was over, the players were all dog-tired and drenched in sweat. Despite the fact that her brain had gone numb from the busy analysis, she felt she had gotten a good grasp of the team’s individual and group abilities, having written mini reports in her notebook about all the players, their habits, and how they work together. Each player’s individual page included a few people they worked especially well with, but (Y/N) noticed that everyone worked especially well with Oikawa. He seemed to bring out the most ability and talent in everyone he set for.

It was unfair, really. Such amazing athletic talent, coupled with fluffy brown curls and a sharp jawline, only to be spoiled by a smug, flippant attitude.

Earlier, she’d made the mistake of letting him catch her staring once. The corners of his lips quirked up slightly, causing her to look away quickly.

(Y/N) changed back into her school uniform and locked up the main gym. Shouldering her bag, she noticed the lights on inside one of the smaller gyms.

She stepped inside to see Oikawa practicing his sets against the wall. He’d taken the time to change out of his sweaty practice gear, but he just changed into clean, dry practice gear.

“Oikawa-san?” she called out.

The setter caught the ball and turned his attention to her, “Ah, (Y/N)-chan! Heading home already?”

She nodded, “Yeah. You’re still going to be practicing for a while?”

A look of annoyance flashed across his face before returning to his usual carefree expression.

“Yes, I will be.”

(Y/N) nodded, taking a few steps in to set the master key on the bleachers, “I’m heading home, so please be sure to lock up when you’re finished.”

Had she stayed just a second longer, she’d have seen the slightly dumbfounded, mostly intrigued look on Oikawa’s face.

“Wakatoshi, I’m having the time of my life!”

“That’s an unexpected response, though I’m happy for you,” Ushijima’s slightly pixelated voice came from (Y/N)’s firepods.

“I’ve been keeping to myself enough where no one bothers me, I get to manage the volleyball team, and I’ve had two whole weeks of fucking peace here. All my hopes and dreams have come true.”

“Well, not all of them--”

“Stuff it, Ushijima, I know,” she grumbled.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, sorry. Have you met Oikawa Tooru yet?”

(Y/N) frowned, dodging a group of boys walking down the hall in the opposite direction.

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Why did you say it so quietly?”

“No reason,” she said just as quietly.

“You find him attractive, don’t you?”

“What? Him? But he’s so-- he’s such a flirt! He always has girls hanging around him and he always looks so pleased with himself. Not to mention he’s a genuinely amazing setter and he’s a considerate captain and--”

“So, you do find him attractive?”

“I mean,” (Y/N) huffed, stopping outside the equipment room door, “Yes.”

“More attractive than Semi?”

“I’d say they’re about the same.”

“Wow. That’s a high compliment coming from you.”

“Isn’t it? But-- Oh, I gotta go, Wakatoshi, I need to fill the water cooler.”

“I’ll talk to you tonight.”

“Later!”

(Y/N) was breathing hard as she carried the water cooler from the equipment room to the gym. She wondered if they could get a wagon or some sort of wheels so she didn’t have to pull a muscle just to fill the cooler every practice. Better yet, maybe just let them die of dehydration so she wouldn’t have to move at all.

Sigh.

No, (Y/N), this isn’t that type of school.

Finally making it to the gym, she took a deep breath and shuffled inside. Almost immediately after she set foot in the gym, all of a sudden, the water cooler had slammed back into her, pouring its icy contents all over her and her uniform.

She fell flat on her ass, rubbing the sore spot on her chin where the plastic had knocked into it.

‘Someone around here wants me to relieve them of both their arms,’ she thought.

“Kyoutani!” she heard Mizoguchi yell, “How did your spike end up all the way over there?”

She didn’t get the chance to hear the first-year’s reply before Coach Irihata kneeled in front of her, the boys crowding around the two of them.

‘No, no. Deep breaths, (Y/N). It was just an accident. Breathe in, breathe out. In, then out.”

Taking a final deep breath, she looked up, smiled sweetly and said, “Don’t worry. It’s just a little water.”

Iwaizumi came up behind her and hauled her up by the armpits, “You alright?”

(Y/N) nodded in affirmation.

Oikawa passed her a large - presumably his - Seijoh BVBC sweater. She fully expected him to say something that would get him smacked by Iwaizumi, but was surprised to see him walk away almost immediately.

Stepping out of the locker room, (Y/N) looked up at the dark evening sky.

“It’s already this dark?” she wondered aloud.

“Yep. It’s that time of the year,” came a voice from behind her.

Oikawa stepped out from the boys’ locker room, hair still damp, and aqua t-shirt clinging to his skin slightly from the moisture.

She stared at him.

He tilted his head. “I do take breaks sometimes, you know,” he said as if he’d read her mind.

“Could’ve had me fooled,” she replied, gathering her composure and making her way towards the front gate.

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N)-chan,” he waved her goodbye.

“See you tomorrow.”

Exiting the school gate, they both turned left, ending up walking the same direction anyway. They chuckled awkwardly.

“Never mind, then,” Oikawa smiled.

“I’m getting on the G-train and going down 6 stops. You?”

“G-train, 8 stops,” he gasped, “(Y/N)-chan, we live so close! We can hang out together every day!” he teased.

(Y/N) huffed, turning away so the brunette couldn’t see her smiling, “We already hang out every day, nerd.”

“How hurtful! I can never spend too much time with you, (Y/N)-chan,” he nudged her playfully with his elbow, letting out a small ‘oof’ when she pushed him back.

They got on the G-train, which was mostly empty around this time of night. Their car held them and two other girls from their school, who seemed to pay them little mind, aside from the occasional glances that were typical in Oikawa’s presence.

The brunette stared down his nose at her, “So. Are you ever gonna tell me why our brand new lady manager has an abnormally thorough knowledge of volleyball?” he questioned.

(Y/N) took a seat across from Oikawa. He made himself comfortable opposite her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Oikawa-san,” she said innocently.

Oikawa leaned forward in his seat.

“I saw your notebook. Your notes are way too detailed for anyone less than an expert. Did you or a family member or a friend or whatever play?”

Her gaze turned downcast. The train car was relatively empty, and he seemed genuine enough for her to softly reply, “I used to.”

There are two specific expressions (Y/N) saw the most of in the months following the incident.

One was less common. It was a thinly-veiled smugness, poorly hidden behind feigned sympathy. It was a look that said, “You got exactly what you deserved.”

The second was much more common, and on the days that made her want to lay in bed all day, seeing that expression plastered all around her like wallpaper just made her want to dig into the earth and make a home for herself there forever.

Pity.

It’s the same look every time. Their eyebrows go up, then furrow, finally slanting down as the realization dawns on them. Their mouth will drop open like they plan to say something, but no words come out because what are they supposed to say?

He must have seen the look of anguish on her face, because his expression morphed through each phase of that second type, word for word.

“You don’t play anymore because you won’t or because you--”

A dark shadow crossed her face, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Oikawa nodded, “Okay.” His pretty brown eyes rolled up to the ceiling in deep thought. “What’s your favorite cake flavor?”

(Y/N) blinked at him confusedly for a moment, then her expression shifted to one of realization, and she gave him a small smile, the most genuine he’d ever seen her wear since she arrived at Aoba Johsai.

“Red velvet!”

“That’s just chocolate with red food coloring.”

(Y/N) gasped loudly, “You take that back!”

Oikawa raised his hands in defense, “I’m sorry, I only speak facts. Is now a bad time to mention I love pineapple on pizza?”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped, “Are you serious? Do you even have taste buds, pretty boy?”

The taller male laughed and teasingly batted his lashes, “You think I’m pretty, (Y/N)-chan?”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t know how to tell you this, Oikawa, but everyone thinks you’re pretty. You literally have a fanclub. They bring you homemade cookies on a regular basis.”

He got up from his seat across from her, only to settle down in the seat beside her. They sat there, shoulders against each other’s. Oikawa Tooru smelled like mint and the breeze on a summer night and a little bit of man sweat, but that’s to be expected coming straight from practice. It was a very distracting few seconds.

“But I don’t care about everyone’s opinion, (Y/N)-chan, I want yours.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks buzzed with heat. Ugh, he’s unfairly cute, isn’t he? But! Even if she would never tell him, she remembered him from middle school. He didn’t remember her. A guy like Oikawa was probably flirting with her because she didn’t fall desperately at his feet. She wasn’t going to be a part of that game. Not now, not ever.

At the sound of her stop, she stood and made her way over to the door. Just forcing the blood in her cheeks down through sheer willpower, she said, “I’ll see you in school tomorrow, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa leaned back in his seat.

“Hey, (Y/N)? You’re not thinking I’m flirting with you because I’m some tail-chasing fuckboy, right? Because if you are,” he quirked a perfect eyebrow at her, “That’s hardly fair, is it?”

‘What? How did he know??’ she internally screamed, ‘He’s right, though. A lot of girls like him, but it’s not like he has a reputation for sleeping around or anything. Even if he did, that’s not for me to judge.”

(Y/N) braced herself against the open train doors. The cool night air blew into the train from behind her, ruffling her uniform skirt. She groaned.

“That smug face you make when you know you’re right? Yeah, I hate it.”

The setter’s hand came up to rest under his chin, “But you do have an opinion about my face?”

“Goodnight, Oikawa.”

“Text me when you get home!”

“I don’t--”

“Ask Iwa-chan for it! Goodnight, (Y/N)-chan!”

The train doors shut, and Oikawa sent her a wink through the glass doors before it departed. The breeze ruffled (Y/N)’s hair. There she stood, staring at the empty tracks. Rooting through her bag, she yanked her phone out and dialed a number.

“Wakatoshi, I’ve been a dumb hoe.”

“(Y/N), I told you you shouldn’t--”

“I shouldn’t belittle myself, even as a joke, I know, I’m sorry, Wakatoshi.”

She could feel him shaking his head in disapproval, “Right. Now, what’s your issue?”

Fingers fiddling with the hem of the borrowed oversized Seijoh sweatshirt, (Y/N) pressed her phone between her ear and shoulder.

“I accidentally made friends.”

Ushijima sighed on the other end of the line, “(Y/N), when I said to keep to yourself, I did not mean you had to become a total recluse. You may not want to hear this from me, but meeting new friends is a good thing.”

(Y/N) slowly shook her head, “They’re pretty popular, though, and the last thing I wanted since coming here was to call attention to myself.”

“You may have gotten some unwanted attention at your old school, but maybe you can start over at Aoba Johsai. If we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

“...are you using a meme to give me advice?”

“A what?”

“A meme, Wakatoshi. It’s a joke passed all over the internet. Come on, there’s no way you haven’t seen them, even accidentally.”

“I am unfamiliar with the term. Anyway, I was quoting renowned columnist and cartoonist Tim Kreider. I was trying to make you feel better.”

Though he couldn’t see it, (Y/N) smiled warmly at how hard he was trying to help.

“You did a great job, Wakatoshi. Hey, I just got home, I’ll call you back and we’ll talk all about your day. How’s that?”

“Alright, get inside safely.”

Upon hanging up with Ushijima, (Y/N)’s hand stopped just short of putting her phone away. Perhaps against her better judgement, she reluctantly sent one more text.

[SENT] To: Iwaizumi Hajime-Kun [8:37 pm]

- Admin Mango

#oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa tōru #ushijima #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

119 notes · View notes

chibi-mushroom · 4 years

Text

Hey everyone! Here is day three! The story is based on a show on youtube called Monstrum, I highly suggest it. There will be a picture to go along with it when I get home from work. I figured with her wearing all white and him wearing all black, it would be cute.

*************

Today was the day. Riku had promised that he would take her to other worlds outside their own, and he intended to do it. Sora was safe and at home now, spending his days on the sands of the Destiny Islands with Kairi. However, life had other plans for Riku. He had decided to follow in Aqua’s footsteps and become a full-time keyblade master; protecting the worlds from any remaining darkness. He himself had learned that the darkness wasn’t the enemy they had always been told it was.

Not that he was never home anymore. His mother insisted that he be home as often as he could to visit. After they had lost him for so long, they weren’t intent on losing him again. His family had been so happy that he came home that they had forgiven him for plunging the world into darkness. Now they could ask Sora or Kairi for stories anytime they wanted to hear what kind of adventures their son was getting into. They also begged him to bring Namine home. She lived with the Wayfinder trio in the Land of Departure and kept it while they were away on patrols.

There she was in the courtyard of her new home when he arrived to pick her up. She wore clothes much different now than that she could wear something other than that white slip she had been created in. Now she had a blue plaid skirt and black v neck top that resembled the one he wore. Overtop was a long white jacket with blue plaid on the bottom and a mickey insignia in yellow on her arm. Her hair was tied up as well, which made it easier to keep out of her face while she was casting spells.

With a heavy blush, Riku accepted the soft peck on his cheek before he lead her into the gummi ship. It was such a new sensation to have her holding onto him and presenting him with varied kisses. He enjoyed and treasured each one, but was also glad that they were kept in private, when it was just the two of them and they didn’t need to worry what else anyone thought or said.

“So, where are we going?” Namine questioned as she buckled her seatbelt. Takeoff had been hard on her every other time she had gone through it, despite how much she wanted to sit with him.

“I was hoping you might have a world in mind. I’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go.”

Namine thought to herself for a moment. There were so many worlds in Sora’s memories and even more in the hearts of those tied to him. But one in particular had stuck out to her. She somehow knew the lore that went with the holiday; the spooks and the scares and the way the dead shambled back to life. It wasn’t her first choice of worlds, but the idea of going there with Riku by her side seemed a little easier to bear than dealing with the brunt of it by herself.

“Can we check out Halloween Town?”

“You want to go there?” Riku looked back at her.

“Yes. it might be a little scary, but Jack seemed really nice, and I want to experience the thrill of terror when I know I'm not in any danger. Terra always seemed to like it, so…”

Riku smiled. “Then Halloween town it is. I wonder what your form change will be?”

While neither said it, they were both thinking it. She was likely going to be a witch of some sort. That was what most of the organization had called her as well as DiZ and even herself on occasions, though she was usually repeating the words of others. As for Riku, he could be anything. Sora had seemed to be a vampire of some kind, so maybe the keyblade master would be, too.

When the ship touched down, Namine giggled at the bubbly feeling that always accompanied their form changes to other worlds. As they walked out of the ship together, they took a long look to evaluate the other's change.

Riku was wearing a dark suit and his usually tanned skin had paled to being much lighter than she had ever seen it. She noticed very small fangs in his mouth as well as the fact that his hair had been mussed up. The biggest change though was the addition of bat wings that had grown out of him. It was fitting all things considered.

Her change though was quite a bit different. She reached up to where the brim of a witch's hat should have been only to find none. Her skin had turned a deathly white and her hair had even lost its color as well. She was wearing a long white dress that may have had a couple of rips, but for the most part was quite lovely.

"Are you supposed to be some kind of ghost?" Riku asked simply.

"No, I think I would be a little more...floaty? I don't feel like a ghost." Namine responded.

"That's the thing about form changes. You yourself haven't changed, just your outward appearance."

"Like you did in Twilight town." She spoke and gave a gasp, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"You never saw me like that. To you I was always Riku." He spoke softly.

Namine nodded and gently took one of his large hands in her two smaller ones. She squeezed them lovingly and caught his gaze. The past was the past and she told him so in those very words. He had moved so far forward from that time; there was no need to drag himself back, even if it had been partially her fault that he even thought about it.

He nodded back and turned to lead them into town. He faintly remembered parts of it when he had wandered through the memories in Castle Oblivion, but he had never gotten a chance to go there properly before now. For a moment he was worried they wouldn't have anything to light their way, as it was fairly dark around here in the forest. Thankfully the overly large full moon gave them plenty of light to see by.

Town was easy enough to find, and as they walked through the gates, they were greeted by a small ghostly dog with a little lit pumpkin on its nose. It gave a happy bark and flew close around them, causing a small breeze to ruffle their clothes and hair. Namine had wanted to pet it, but since it was a ghost, she settled for watching the way it observed them.

Coming behind the dog was an unusually tall skeleton in a dark suit and spider bow tie. He looked at them, sizing them up with a smirk on his face. Both recognized him as Jack, the pumpkin king, even though he had never actually met either of them.

"Welcome to Halloween town. And who might you two be?" He bent over to get a better look at them.

"I'm Riku and this is Namine. We're friends of Sora's."

At the mention of the boy's name, Jack's face lit up. "So you found him after all. Good for you. Tell him to stop by sometime if he wants a good scream. I'm Jack, by the way. I help make each Halloween more scary than the last."

"Will do. And nice to meet you, jack." Riku replied. "So, is there anything to do around here?"

"Sure! Lots. Why don't you and your banshee friend head over to Curly hill? It's just down the way, you can't miss it."

A banshee. So that was what Namine had transformed into. As they waved goodbye, something was tugging at the back of Riku's mind. He had heard about banshees from his time on the island. They were monsters with a horrible voice and came to attack from out of nowhere. Maybe the form changes really were random, because that wasn't anything like her. She was usually soft spoken and thoughtful of others.

She must have been thinking about it too, because the look on her face was deep in thought, and perhaps a little troubled. As they walked, he took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. That was enough to bring her out of her thoughts, as she forced a smile at Riku.

"Are you bothered by the form change?" He asked.

"I don't know. I know about the stories you, Sora and Kairi would tell whenever you went camping, but it's like what we said earlier, appearance doesn't equal the heart, right?"

"Yeah, but you should also be comfortable in your own skin. Maybe we could try another world?'

"No, I want to see Curly hill for myself. I've seen it in memory, but this will be different."

They continued to walk, leaves crunching under their feet and a faraway howl rising in the air. Despite what she had said, her brows were still knit close together and she made a face similar to what Kairi did when she was frustrated.

There was a thin gate to their right and it led into a pathway in line with their final destination. Far ahead of them was the iconic hill that they were looking for, the swirl high in the moonlight. As they got closer, they noticed someone walking among the tombstones and pumpkins. She was moving at a leisurely pace, humming softly to herself.

"Oh, that's Sally." Namine smiled. She had always liked the woman from what she had seen.

"Hello there, and who might you be?" Sally asked.

"I'm Namine and this is Riku. It's nice to meet you."

"Yes, I suppose it is. Have I met you before? There's something about you that seems familiar."

Namine shook her head. She must have sensed the small amount of Sora that had been imbued in her upon her creation. Sally really must have been able to sense things others couldn't necessarily see.

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Sally. It's not often we get a banshee around here. Not to say your vampire friend isn't welcome, but banshees are just a sign of good luck."

Riku and Namine looked at each other in slight confusion. They had never heard that version of the story. It had always been death and destruction. Where did the good luck come from?

"Banshees are good luck because they usually arrive to let members of their family know that death is coming so they have a chance to prepare. Which family are you connected to?"

"I'm not sure." Namine admitted.

"That's alright." Sally smiled warmly in the cool moonlight.

From the gate came the same ghostly dog who had greeted them when they entered the town. He zoomed around Riku and Namine before licking Sally and barking at her. The woman bent down and patted the ghost dog on the head before watching him fly off towards the town.

"It looks like doctor Finkelstein needs me for something. I hope you two enjoy your stay!"

With Sally gone, Riku suggyest they head up the hill to get a better view of the area nearby. They sat together for a while, listening to the wind sighing and a small band of vampires playing in the distance. He could tell she was deep in thought again, but this time, she wasn't nearly as frustrated. A contemplative look filled her face.

"Munny for your thoughts?" Riku asked.

"Just thinking about what Sally said. I guess I just got so used to being referred to as a witch that I didn't think there could be any good in monsters outside of this world. To me, a witch was just as much as a monster as any of them."

He listened as she continued.

"But I think….I think that hearing what Sally had to say about the banshees really made me wonder about who I'm going to be and what I'm going to do. They may have called me a witch, but that doesn't mean it's necessarily bad, right?"

"No, it isn't. After all, witch, banshee, nobody; those don't make up who you are. Only you can decide what you're going to be."

"Yeah. Maybe that's the real reason why my heart led us here today. That way I could figure this out." She caught his gaze. "Riku, thank you."

#rikunami week 2020 #rikunami #namiku #halloweentown #day 3 #black and white

9 notes · View notes

mythgirlimagines · 4 years

Text

Anon KG Characters With DVHS Talents

————————————————-

MYTH: Former SHSL Blogger

One of the six chaperones of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate and Wyre’s childhood friend. As the mastermind behind the blog “Ms. Myth’s Scenarios”, she gives off the aura of being withdrawn and timid. But if you talk about her three interests, “Fantastical Butterfly”, “REBULLET” and “Zachary Carlton and The Titans” within earshot of her, prepare for a total mood shift from Myth, as she becomes more peppy, cheerful and energetic. As she usually spends her time cooped in her room, Wyre usually has to drag Myth out of her room to go on their daily jog together.

Clothes: The same clothes from her original design, except with her hood up and badges of her fandoms replaced her heart badges.

—————————————————-

WYRE: Former SHSL Track Star

One of the six chaperones of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate and Myth’s childhood friend. Having mastered a bunch of sport competitions from a young age, the one main sport that truly caught her attention was Track and Field. Despite her loud, rough-around-the-edges and delinquent-esque personality, if you manage to get on her good side, she is a very supportive and friendly, if overbearing friend. Rumor has it, that she runs laps in ridiculous costumes during charity runs, in order to raise money for medical research and orphanages.

Clothes: A brown and black tank top, matching track shorts and red and white track shoes.

——————————————————-

SCAR: SHSL Lucky Student

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. Having experienced bouts of misfortune after misfortune ever since she was a little girl, she’s managed to convince herself that she was the mortal vessel for the goddess of bad luck, Misfortuna, and crafted a persona to match. Even after winning the annual lottery for Hope’s Peak, she still carries her Chuunibyou persona to the classroom. But her classmates can break her facade quite easily to reveal a concerned mom friend, who just cares too much for her friends.

Clothes: The same clothes from her original design, except with bandages covering her hands instead of surgery gloves, and the red cross symbol being replaced by a green clover design.

———————————————————

FUSION: SHSL Linguist

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. With a penchant for picking up and learning about customs, languages and vocabulary from around the world, he has managed to master speaking in 10 languages on a conversational level, as well as reading and writing in 10 more languages. Traveling with his family is one of his major passions, as it allows him to pick up on languages much quicker. But one of the things he likes even more about foreign countries than the variety of languages is the variety of delicacies.

Clothes: An oversized grey bomber jacket with country flag badges sewn into the sleeves, for every language he has mastered speaking, black pants, and white and blue striped sneakers.

———————————————————

FUSION II: SHSL Astrologer

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. As the the genius behind the astrology/satire blog, “COUNT YOUR LUCKY STARS”, she has a biting sense of wit and sarcasm that even bleeds into her star-reading predictions, which is the main reason for her massive fan following. Yet, despite her sarcastic and sardonic predilections, she somehow manages to startle people with her surprising accuracy down the line. If you ever find her in the Hope’s Peak’s hallways, you’d have to snake yourself around the massive line that are her adoring fans.

Clothes: The same clothes from her original design, but with star buttons on her gakuran and a galaxy design on her skirt.

———————————————————-

JANON: SHSL Archer

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. While Janon may have a cute appearance, don’t even try to say that to their face, unless you want an arrow in yours. Having been sent to a kyudoka’s temple by their parents to cure their lazy and rebellious behavior, they have mastered the art of the bow and arrow with relative ease, but sadly their surly and lazy attitude still remained. If they want something from the other side of their room, they’d aim an arrow tied to a rope at the object, fire the arrow at the object, and reel the object back in.

Clothes: A pink bunny hoodie and black surgical mask, over a black and blue hakama, white socks and black sandals. They carry a black quiver on their back that holds their bow and arrows.

————————————————————-

SPARKLE: Former SHSL Guitarist

One of the six chaperones of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. With a lifelong dream of having her dazzling self be noticed by one and all, she’s turned to practicing on her signature glittery and purple guitar, which comes in both electric and acoustic form, until she formed her band “SYMPHONY OF SEQUINS”. Sparkle and her band managed to hit platinum with their two hit songs, “Supernova” and “Diamond Amongst The Coal Mine”. Because of her bombastic and loud personality, she isn’t exactly good with the whole “incognito” thing, not that she’s complaining about the attention.

Clothes: The same clothes from her original design, but with her sparkly purple guitar and a colorful music note design on her black skirt and a music note scrunchie holding her bun up.

————————————————————–

EGG: Former SHSL Carpenter

One of the six chaperones of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate, and Wet Sock’s twin. Egg has a “reputation” of sorts at Hope’s Peak’s for being cursed beyond all belief, leaving people unnerved at thier eccentric mindset. They’ve gotten into Hope’s Peak for their mastery in the art of woodworking, making expertly-crafted toys, furniture, and even entire buildings and wooden statues. Their most famous work yet, is “Twinship”, an uncannily accurate, yet distorted, wooden sculpture of the twins in an odd yin-yang-like pose.

Clothes: A brown and red plaid flannel shirt, a yellow tool belt, and the same pants and shoes from their original design.

—————————————————————

WET SOCK: Former SHSL Historian

One of the six chaperones of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate, and Egg’s twin. Having been ostracized by others for their interest in medieval history, particularly the darker and torturous parts of the Middle Ages, Wet Sock has adopted a prickly, cynical and knife-obsessed personality to combat this. Wet Sock got into Hope’s Peak for furthering and contributing to historical research on medieval torture devices. If you manage to not get turned of by their personality and approach them, you’d find out that deep down, they’re just a lonely kid who needs a couple of friends in their life.

Clothes: A red sweater and a brown vest, a yellow pocket watch, and the same pants and shoes from their original design.

—————————————————————

CURIOUS: SJHSL Herbalist

One of the two SJHSL students volunteering for the SHSL Internship program. With a wide botanical knowledge and a heart equally as wide, Curious is the founder of “The Green Hand”, a flower shop and grocery store hybrid famous for both their wide selection of flowers, fruits and vegetables and the high quality and long life of said flowers, fruits and vegetables. Curious is a kind soul, if a bit of a pushover, who’s always happy to help others. If they’re not tending to Hope’s Peak’s massive greenhouse, they’d be found helping out others with various tasks.

Clothes: A white button up shirt, a green tie with a daisy on the front, green overalls with sunflower buttons, black boots, and green gardening gloves.

——————————————————————-

NERD: Former SHSL Massage Therapist

One of the six chaperones of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. With his neurotic, temperamental, and hostile personality, a massage therapist is one of least fitting talents he can have, but somehow he manages to do his job well enough to catapult him into SHSL status. He will die before admitting it, but he’s secretly really concerned about both his friends, their health and their wellbeing. The embodiment of the phrase “tough love”, he’d give you a full body massage, while loudly scolding you on your poor posture and lack of exercise.

Clothes: A black polo shirt, black pants and black and white sneakers.

———————————————————————

ELDRITCH: SHSL Songwriter

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. Eldritch has a massive passion for music, but due to his crippling stage fright and anxiety, he can’t perform on stage and become a musician like his wanted, so he retired backstage to become a songwriter for various bands. Eldritch is famous for his signature style: eerie and futuristic songs with anarchy/rebellion related lyrics. His paranoia stems from a past incident, in which one of his musical rivals stole and plagiarized Eldritch’s written lyrics, while framing Eldritch as the thief.

Clothes: A brown hoodie with black music notes all over, over a black band t-shirt, grey sweatpants, black socks and purple slippers.

——————————————————————–

DREAM: SHSL Friend

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. Famous around her hometown for being a popular and friendly person, even with the town’s most unpopular people, Dream can make friends with anybody, regardless of their attitude or beliefs. Dream just has this way of seeing the goodness and positive qualities in even the worst of people. With her sunny, positive and energetic attitude, Dream revels in socializing with others and thanks to her contagious personality, others most definitely feel the same way.

Clothes: The same clothes from her original design, only without her satchel and with normal pink barrettes.

———————————————————————

IRIS: SJSHL Charmer

One of the two SJHSL students volunteering for the SHSL Internship program. One of the most popular kids in both her schools and her neighborhood, her optimism, contagious energy, and clumsy and dorky charm has earned her tons of fans at both her elementary and middle school. Despite her large fan following, she is just too kind-hearted to even think of taking advantage of her popularity, which in turn, has earned her even more followers. And of course, you can bet that her following only increased when she was scouted to Hope’s Peak’s Junior High Division.

Clothes: A pink hoodie over a lighter pink dress with a heart design at the bottom, grey tights and red mary janes.

—————————————————————————

FANCY: SHSL Hairdresser

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. As the head of the hairdressing salon “Fancy’s Follicle Furnishing”, they are able to flawlessly style anyone’s hair, regardless of the length, texture or manageability. They are equally concerned with their own appearance, as much as other’s appearances, being regularly found staring at a mirror, making sure every hair on their head is in place. Having started out with cutting, decorating and tying up mere wigs and doll’s hair, they’ve eventually managed to practice and succeed at cutting real people’s hair.

Clothes: A black apron filled with hair care products, over a white button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, white gloves, black pants and black shoes.

———————————————————————-

PURPLE: SHSL Ice Skater

One of the attendants of Hope’s Peak’s annual field trip to Kibo-Con Ultimate. Known in the figure skating community as “The Polar Pixie”, her performance on the ice is hailed by most critics and fans as “poised”, “peaceful” and above all else, “perfect”, or at least, that’s how she is on the ice rink. When off of the ice rink, she is very timid, socially awkward and easily frightened, usually seen hiding behind trees, poles or even taller people. If you manage to lure her out of her hiding place with candy, you’ll find out that she has nothing but nice words to say, even if it sounds like she swallowed a thesaurus.

Clothes: A purple sweater with white snowflakes on it, over her purple and white figure-skating outfit, black tights and white and blue sneakers.

——————————————————————–

Thanks to Fusion II for giving me this idea! I’m very proud of you, sweetie!

—

I love seeing yall with DVHS talents!!!

8 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Lawless

… there is drama, mentions of war, a physical altercation, and it gets emotional, but there’s some humor and fluff :D

“He thinks he’s a mind reader.”

“He’s a bad kisser.”

“That wasn’t very subtle.”

“And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”

…

The world was in flames, and all there was to do was follow your orders. Men were off to war, women off to forge more weapons and armor for those men, and just where were you? Well, you were 7, so for some Manwe forsaken reason you were being sent off to some Numenorean territory named Rivendell.

One of the thousands of Teleri children, well, half in your case, you could have gone to your cousin’s in Lothlorien. It looked so lovely on the post cards, and yet you were off to some pompous prick of a godfather, who nominated himself for the task simply by bribing one of the nurses in the hospital to let him sign on that line after ‘arriving late’ to your birth. Centuries he had tried to weasel into your family line, and now with you what he had expected to bring riches brought only another mouth to feed, an opinionated one at that.

The war seemed endless and your hopes at the handful of braincell wielding Elf in your charge having a clue as to take care of you would soon wither and die, right before dramatically spontaneously combusting of course, because your life seems to do nothing in halves. If you’re meant to be miserable the world would see to it you were the worst off person in it, and it rarely wished for you to be anything but it seemed.

Deeply your dark brows knit as you sat cross armed in the back of your driver manned car for the lonely drive to your school, your gaze cast down at the pastel orange socks tucked up to your knees under a plaid pastel orange and black skirt matching your socks. A matching blouse was topped with a plaid tie matching your skirt under your black crest bearing sweater with sleeves ended with pastel orange fringe you wanted to cut off. Following the strict hair requirements your white golden shimmering curls were tucked back in a long braid topped and ended with matching orange bows. You weren’t mad at the style, it was quite comfy, the irritation however was with the fact that along with the other upturned children you had been assigned your own color. Rank was everything, and each was sorted by color, orange being the lowest.

Already you had been assigned a new name, as part of the terms of your rehousing you had to abandon your birth names and accept Middle Earth focused names. Honestly you couldn’t have imagined how much harder this would have been had you not, Snowflake, that was what Nieninque meant, and now Jaqiearae Pear, the first name meaning jackrabbit, the equivalent of Bunny in Hobbitish, a ‘cute’ name your mother loved. So here you sat an angry bunny waiting with your arms wrapped around your permitted black satchel.

The city you had been dropped into you had grown far too irritated to cast your silver flecked purple eyes out onto the streets in your focus to just get through the day. The white marble building soon became everything visible through the car window. The door parting you was opened by the aid outside and the expecting grin dropped when the color of your uniform was realized. Out you climbed and joined the flock of other orange clad students in the sea of sea foam and coral clad students around the few royal blue and silver for the few children of Nobles in the mix. To each of the rehomed students the rules were made clear, boundaries had to be set and it was made clear that no exceptions would be made.

But clearly rules are made to be broken, or completely ignored. Two weeks now you had watched the new blonde Noble boy who had taken the desk, books, supplies and even games and in his move to grab your assigned pair of scissors for your upcoming crafts project you would have to pair up for. A hidden swat from the teacher’s view brought the boy’s icy blue eyes to land on you as you whispered, “There are rules, and so far you’ve broken all of them. That is your cubby, Mr Lawless.”

Taking the supply filled small woven tote you carried to your desk in the start of your class. The desk on your right however was taken, not by the usual sea foam clad girl but the blonde boy with his own woven tote set on the desk and bag hung on his hook on the side of your joined desks. Leaning over in the situating of pages in the teacher’s hands he said, “You should tell me the other rules I’ve missed.” At that, had you been the hero of your own tale, your nemesis had been born. The cocky self assured boy now mimicked your every move taking notes on all the rules you recited and said he would share them with all the other Nobles who were also unaware of them.

All day he did that, in each class you shared he clung to your side rubbing in the vast difference between your ranks all the way until his flag bearing car picked him up at the end of the day while you sat outside waiting for your own car to arrive under the watch of the put off aid tasked to do so. Nearly an hour you waited until finally the driver rushed out apologizing from a new car explaining that the Lord had taken the other and this one needed to have the tires aired up and the tank refilled, by the time he had gotten you inside the aid had left more frustrated at his saying anything at all.

And off to the large home you went to quietly take your place in your room in the house keeper’s quarters to keep from annoying the Lord who loved frequent parties, of which he was throwing one now. Alone while the servants tended to him and his guests you fixed yourself a grilled cheese and a can of ravioli you cleaned up after then went to your room to try and sleep hoping the blonde would leave you alone. Though hopes were soon dashed as for the next 53 years of your school lives his game wouldn’t stop, pick up in fact and change your entire life.

***

Times were hard all around, and even the Great Greenwood had taken their own place in the war, meaning the King Oropher had to be traveling often. In his absence to ensure the safety of his Wife and Son they were sent to the protective watch of Lord Elrond in Rivendell for possibly a year at the longest until things calmed down. Weeks now he had mingled with the familiar faces from family events and tried to figure out what exactly to do. Past the obvious basic task they were meant to achieve nothing had been shared not even where he was meant to sit, at least not till today.

Giddily in his ride home he grinned looking over his notes and couldn’t wait until he could get back to school again to share all he’d learned with his family friends. Into the lavish apartment he skipped and left his bag at the table and climbed up onto a stool beside his mother to claim a tight hug making her giggle and ask, “Enjoy your day at school, Little Bud?”

Bright eyed he answered, “I made a new friend today! There’s a whole bunch of rules I didn’t even know about, but she started to tell me and I’ve got them all written down. I could have gotten in a lot of trouble. But I won’t now, thanks to my new friend.”

Sweetly she kissed his forehead and said, “That is good to hear.”

“Like Ada says, ‘No one is above the law, not even the King himself.’ Good I learned now. What example would that set?”

“What else did you learn about your new friend?”

“She is excellent at sketching and smells like green apples!” Making her chuckle again and guide him on helping to fix up a snack while a pair of cooks made the full dinner for the pair of them.

…

Two more months and you tolerated the clingy Prince and his gaggle of Nobles all stirring up disbelieving stares from the teachers at the refugee who had weaseled into their circle far above your station. Yet in your thriving place in classes rising to the top along side the Prince claiming your partner role each time applicable leading to today, a quartet of poem projects you all had written were to be chosen for presenting in an upcoming show for the students attending showcasing the best from each grade.

Outside the Headmaster’s office you sat listening to the Prince boasting on and on about how his father had come to town and would be here for the show. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall and instantly your forced grin dropped and you hopped up to your feet from the bench only to nearly go flying at the harsh slap across your face. Open mouthed Thranduil watched the Lord Q grip you by the braid tugging your head back painfully making his fist clench. “What have you done now, little Tol cretin?!”

A hard blow to his groin had the Lord release your hair to grip himself and drop to his knees while the woman behind the counter called for security, who came rushing around the corner. In his lunge for the Prince he was raised from the ground and thrown into the wall and bound after as Thranduil crouched beside you with a tissue he pulled from the pack in his bag he used to help blot the stream of blood from the cut on your cheek from his jeweled ring. Timidly you looked him over and sat quietly while the Lord was arrested and the King and Queen arrived to hear the whole thing. The more the staff looked at you condescendingly with constant mentions of the differing of class even as children it was made clear that the school was clear the Prince had a valid reason and in the middle of their try to blame the whole thing on you was severed by Thranduil’s crying out that you were his friend and you didn’t do anything, a fact the woman who called security confirmed.

Around you your life was decided, the Prince’s clear bond to you had the officials contacted by Lord Elrond that you would be rehoused once again, though instead of off to Lindon, where other children deemed unruly had been sent, you were moved into the custody of the Wife of the Elf in charge of the King’s herds. The couple had fostered dozens of children over the years and with this many students being shipped off you were joined by a normally silent girl who lived down the block from you and your mother you explained only spoke in sign after her father had shipped out. You were glad to have a familiar face of your own and Tulip beamed at having one of her own, yet still in your glance back at the Prince in your guided path to pack your things to move to another new home you mumbled to yourself mentally, “And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”

…

That move was followed by another not four months later, when Greenwood was safe you and Tulip joined Lady Marya back to Greenwood to move officially into your new bedrooms in their cottage on the Palace grounds. Ringwe, her husband headed the care of the King’s herds, and when you got settled you were welcomed to learn at his side. The older you got the more you took on adding to your studies, and sure enough at your elbow the Prince when able to run off you had been working at the zoo that captures injured wildlife who were injured in the wars, mainly the arctic creatures from near Helcrax you loved especially. Yet always the Prince once his daily tasks were done since the first day of learning where you were he would go to help you, ever eager to see you master the creatures most likely to kill someone your size. The sheer awkwardness of your relationship was becoming dangerously close to something like friendship.

Mid teens had been supposed to be trying, and yet it was the most trying of all. From orange to mint green you had been traded in colors and treated far greater once people knew the new girl was the Crown Prince’s friend. Yet by your next birthday those like you also from Tol Eressea were being shipped back home as soon as word of their relatives in the recovering island kingdom could be contacted. The monthly calls from your father was scheduled for tonight and even at the call from his father to come out to some official meeting the Prince had asked to spend his night at your apartment once again to study and wait with you.

Ten o clock was reached and a call was given to inform the King of where his son still was. Right where he had found you he sat to your left still keeping hold of your hand chatting with you ignoring the stabbing of his heart at the tears rolling down your cheeks and forced calm exterior in waiting. Through the doorway Oropher peered on at you both then turned to follow Ringwe off into the kitchen leaving you still on the bench in the hall by the table with the phone on it waiting for the call. “Does the call usually come this late?” The expression on Ringwe’s face made his drop and he asked lower, “What happened?”

Ringwe produced a letter form his pocket he passed the King to lowly reply, “This came yesterday. Her parents fell.”

Oropher looked to the door, “But, she’s-,”

Ringwe nodded and said, “It hasn’t sunk in yet. Tulip flew back last week, and now the day before Jaqi’s call, this. She has a distant cousin in Lothlorien, however his Wife refused to take her.”

Oropher, “You aren’t shipping her away, are you?!”

Ringwe shook his head, “No, not at all.” Wetting his lips, “A series of lawyers are flying out to handle the passing of her estate. Storage trailer from their home and all the finances including the liquidated prices of the sold home her mother had.”

In the peaking of his curiosity he asked, wondering at your true name, “Does it say who her kin is?”

Ringwe wet his lips, “Apparently her mother was King Elmo’s son’s consort. He was betrothed to a Princess of some great line before the war, her uncle is taking up the union now.”

Barely above a whisper he parroted back, “Elmo…” he wet his lips, “Her mother?”

Ringwe shook his head, “From the letters there is not title, merely her name in Vanyar Runes. Jaqi’s name has no title either.”

Oropher, “Still, the only child of Elmo’s eldest, to a Consort or not, there is no reason she should have been treated so lowly in being shipped away.”

Ringwe, “Perhaps it was to keep her from being singled out.”

The pair kept watch of you while Marya kept pacing in the kitchen pretending she wasn’t dying to rush out and hold you the nearer it got to midnight when the dam broke and your face was covered by your hands and true to his decided place as your friend he tugged you into his chest holding you tightly wishing he could do more for his best friend whose life was shattered again. Hours he kept hold of you and the King and Queen agreed to let him stay the night knowing there would be little sleeping or anything else past crying and in the morning that was found to be truthful as across a lounge in the sitting room you were still just as puffy, tear stained and blotchy yet finally asleep beside the equally as blotchy cheeked Prince. Very few others were left in Greenwood from your home, and together you banded together sharing your letters and pictures from those who had returned even at the threat of tears.

…

Days seemed to even out as your trust was settled, and more and more you were brought along to more official events. Each time aloofly sneaking away to explore or read with the Prince soon following after. Always the week before you were pampered and primped and helped into the most lavish of gowns to fit the affair that always complimented Thranduil’s. Yet your slipping away was followed by reminders that the Prince was needed and not long after that you were expected to dance at least once.

Within the crowds eyes were always on you and due to your rumored bloodline a great deal of Nobles nudged their children towards becoming your friends, or possibly more. Strolling through the sea of expecting teens right up to the Prince’s back you went and his eyes went wide in your grip on his braid and step away from him making him turn with his braid falling onto his chest in your release of it. Mouths dropped open at your tug on his hair yet in the turn under the braid his hand outstretched to plant on your lower back silencing offences as it marked you as one of the few allowed by him to touch him. “That wasn’t very subtle.”

“You brought me and I’m being forced to dance and now so are you. Consider it practice for your Kingly duties you will be forced through.” Lowly behind your back he chuckled and took his place in the sea of couples in the mingling dance granting more than a few other teens chances to observe the Prince’s reactions in their time taking hold of you between twirls and lifts.

…

53 years had passed and in the first month of your time at Greenwood U again it was hard to find a moment where the Prince wasn’t at your side. Still you held your job swimming through the water pens of Polar bears, seals and otters to assist in scrubbing them and removing litter from rude guests. Thranduil however was kept to aiding in feeding times and helping to keep the land portions tidy and safe with tons of toys for the young litters the public loved to come and witness in their times clambering over the Prince and his odd friend stirring up confusing seas of rumors.

Strolling through the covered patio you passed through the tables of other students eating their lunches, on one a pair of girls peered on at a duo of guys at the next table glaring at one another. “He thinks he’s a mind reader.” Someone explained in your path onwards to the empty table you normally chose.

Sure enough when you had taken your seat Thranduil had left the cafeteria a trio of young women eager to win the Prince over sat down still talking about their exes, “He’s a bad kisser.”

The one next to her grinned and pressed her arms together around her chest in a lean forward as Thranduil came closer asking, “What about you, Pear, any boyfriends?”

“Few.”

The brunette between the blondes said as Thranduil sat peering at you in setting down his lunch, “Ooh, do tell.”

The left blonde, “First off, how tall?”

“Just over seven feet when they straighten up.”

Collectively they ‘oohed’ and the right blonde still focused on Thranduil in asking, “What about the hair?”

“Blonde of course.”

Brunette, “How come we never see you with them?”

You shrugged, “They don’t get out much. Pretty restrictive daily lives.”

The questions continued to blur on and the more they did Thranduil couldn’t help but smirk in your tale revealing to him you were alluding the polar bears you had befriended were your former boyfriends. When the trio flitted away for their next classes you cleaned up taking a stroll before yours. Fidgeting the strap on his shoulder to his bag he asked, “So, do you have any ex boyfriends?”

Gigling to yourself you asked, “You mean between the nights you come over to study, after the days you spend by me and school and in my shifts at work?” He nodded and you shook your head, “Nope. You? Hiding a Lady Love in any closets back in the Palace?”

Chortling at the notion he replied playfully, “No, but there is this one otter that’s fond of me.” Making you giggle again in his low chuckle.

The matter of dates came up and for good reason, the Feast of Starlight was coming up again and this year would be a masked ball. Again your favored color was chosen by Thranduil, and after the sea of Elves had been waded through the yellow robe clad Prince chased after glimpses of you in the crowds until a stolen looping of fingers around your wrist brought you with a spin into the couples to the dance floor. Five dances later and in his being called away you were gone when he turned back again bringing back his smirk at the challenge to go find you when his introductions were through.

Sure enough in the window seat under the light of the lanterns and stars you were relaxed with a book in your palms. The words of all the great poets swooned and awed at the objects of their affections while your heart ebbed and flowed from the withheld affection for a bond you could never claim. Your best friend, the one who you deemed to have taken you as a plaything or pet when you were little had exploded into something just as troubling, though now for entirely different reasons. The Prince set to marry well, certain to leave you mingled in that fate tragically when the match occurred leaving you to wonder just where you would try to visit in hopes of finding your own possible someone that might make you happy. Key word, might. But they would never be a Prince able to show you a life similar to what should have been yours, had you just been considered a legitimate heir. Could have beens weighed heavily on you and mingled with never wills hurting you.

Arms came from behind you to lift you just barely and in his usual fashion the Prince settled behind you with a leg curled under yours covered by the layered yellow jewel lined skirt of your corseted gown. Against his chest you were drawn and draping his silver wrap around you both his arms laced around your middle in the planting of his chin to your shoulder peering down at the poem on the open page. The reflection of his eyes accented by the shimmering silver mask and circlet above it luring your attention from the page at his focused gaze on the page instead of your eyes glowing between the slits on the yellow shimmering mask matching the yellow jeweled tiara resting in your curls.

The silence between you split as he lowly shared, “Ada instructed me, he is to announce my betrothal tonight. You will be there? I couldn’t do this without you.”

Forcing a grin as your mind flashed to the month of browsing designs for possible engagement rings for the occasion at his side several choices were presented to him for the final choice. All of whom were far from your taste, so at the very least the Elleth of his choosing would not have the ring of your dreams along with the Prince. “And miss having the eligible Elleths tripping on their gowns on the steps to scramble up after you? Never.”

Silence came again after the awkward chuckle he gave, and in a stolen glance at him you said, “Hey, Mr Lawless.”

The smirk ghosting across his lips faded as his eyes shifted you then clamped shut at the sudden press of your lips to his. Unable to hold it anymore you stole a kiss, and surprisingly your cheek was cupped and his head tilted to lean into the kiss now steadily growing more loving. Sheer silent affection for decades had bubbled up and in the seemingly spinning room you were anchored between his legs in his warm arms lost in finally broaching the subject of your passions severing at the telling horns ending the music. Nipping at his lip Thranduil watched you slide out of his hold from your seat to stand, a ruffle of your skirt later you turned with palm extended forcing a grin, “Come on, let’s go get you up on your balcony.”

Shifting his legs to plant his feet on the ground his hands rose to ease around and cradle your hand, the metal band of the ring formerly hidden in his curled fingers now rested on your index finger to the sound of Oropher announcing the hidden surprise to the festival. Shaking his head he replied, “Not yet, Snowflake.”

Inhaling sharply you eyed the woven white stone coated bands under the rounded square shimmering white stone matching it, your dream ring now resting on your finger, “Wh-,”

Standing up in the withdraw of your hand he planted a hand on your hip closing the distance between you to cup your cheek with the other hand. Not to kiss you but to hold you close, his lips moving past your mouth to your ear where he hummed, “All my life I have waded through oceans of faces aimed at me, yours is the one I have always searched for. ‘Blunt, honest and true’, that is what my parents told me to look for and from the moment you swatted at me I knew my choice would always be you.” Warmly his lips met your cheek and your hands clutched at the fabric covering his ribs and his head turned to brush his nose against yours to hum, “I would never choose another, not even with those hideous ring choices you gave me,” making you giggle, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”

Again your lips met his and he melted against you again with a content hum then you said, “Best hop to it then, before they find you in a compromising position.”

“We are engaged,” he said drawing you flat against his chest again, “Unless you say otherwise I can be as compromised as you allow.” Making you roll your eyes as he chuckled after stealing a quick peck on your lips. Pulling back your head nodded and he sighed following after you with his arm draped around your back. “Just one more dance then we can hide again.”

“Promises, Promises.” Making him chuckle again and join you out onto the Royal balcony beside the King for the announcement that to your surprise earned rousing cheers and sure enough the one dance bled into five before you were able to sneak out again back to the library, where before you were helped back to your reading window seat his hand tugged you behind a row of books when a guard came through and for a few heated moments again you were pinned to his chest through another impassioned kiss with your giddily still chuckling and smirking Prince.

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac

#Theincaprincesswritingchallenge #30daywritingchallengebytheincaprincess #Thranduil x Reader OC #hobbit #LOTR

29 notes · View notes

deaky-disco-queen · 5 years

Text

Knock Me Down For A Six Anytime (Poly!Queen Week Day Two)

A/N: Day Two is here and I bring you 4k of smut to the prompt Roleplay! Enjoy!

Also on AO3.

Roger could hear giggling from the other room and felt a smile tug on his lips. He shifted slightly on his chair, excitement fizzling under his skin, making him feel giddy.

A soft knock caught his attention and he stood, straightening out his button down.

“Come in!”

The door opened and Roger’s breath got caught in his throat. Freddie, Brian and John entered the room, all of them wearing slightly different school girl outfits, complete with small bags.

“Hello, Mister. Taylor.” They all said, voices overlapping slightly.

“Have a seat, girls.”

He nodded towards the three tables set up in front of his own, letting his eyes rake shamelessly over their bodies as they shuffled over.

John’s outfit consisted of a dark blue skirt that ended just shortly above his knee, a matching pullover with a light blue button down beneath it. He had buttoned it up almost completely, only leaving the very first button undone. A dark pantyhose completed the look. His hair was straightened and styled, the strands just barely reaching past his ears but it made him look cute as hell, especially with the small bow tie hair clips.

Brian wore a cream colored plaid skirt with a matching waistcoat and blazer, a white button down and a plaid bowtie. He looked all prim and proper, even with his hair just as slightly messy as usual but as he sat down, Roger caught a glimpse of the edge of what he had thought was a pantyhose but apparently were white stockings and the garter clips holding them up.

Freddie- much to Roger’s surprised- had shaved his moustache off. His black skirt was the shortest, barely reaching the middle of his thigh and exposed the lacy top of his stockings. He also wore a pink button down with a white and pink tie, which was hanging loosely around his neck. His hair was mussed and he wore bright pink lipstick and dark kohl around his eyes.

Roger’s eyes flitted back to the other two, realizing they too were wearing makeup. There was just a small hint of eyeliner on Brian and John had lip gloss on his lips.

He cleared his throat, sitting back down behind his desk.

“This is detention, girls, so I expect you to be quiet and do your assignments. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mister Taylor.” they chorused back and Roger smiled.

It grew quiet and he put on his glasses and flipped through the pages of a book he had already read. He had picked it specifically for this situation, knowing he could pretend to be engrossed by the story while he was actually paying attention to his boyfriends.

The silence lasted only for a couple of minutes until he could hear- and see- Freddie leaning over to Brian to try and get John’s attention by clicking his tongue.

“Silence, Miss Mercury.”

Freddie had the decency to look reprimanded as he sat back again but there was something in his eyes that made Roger frown. He clearly had some kind of mischief planned.

Roger put his book up again.

He made it about half a paragraph far- not that he actually caught anything of what he was reading- until a loud rustling sound made him look up again.

John had pulled a wrapping paper out of his bag, unwrapping something that seemed to be a sandwich.

“Miss Deacon, no eating permitted in detention. You should know that.”

John looked at him with wide eyes, sheepishly biting his lip. Roger found himself mesmerized by it. He waved him towards him, expectantly holding out his hand for the sandwich.

“Bring it here, please. I won’t tolerate any distractions.”

The chair scraped over the wooden floor as John stood, tugging the hem of his skirt down as he walked towards Roger and gave him the food. He opened a drawer and dropped it in carelessly. There was a barely visible blush on John’s face and Roger grinned, watching as John licked his glossy lips.

“Thank you, Miss Deacon. Please return to your seat and finish your work.”

Roger let his fingers graze the hem of John’s skirt, brushing against the pantyhose-clad knee and relished when he stumbled ever so slightly on his way back. He felt somebody staring at him and met Freddie’s eyes. He was leaning onto his table, chin propped on his hands, chewing gum.

“Miss Mercury.” Roger said, “There is also no gum allowed. Get rid of it, now.”

Freddie grinned cheekily and blew a big bubble, popping it loudly. Roger sighed, shutting his book closed and stood up, grabbing a tissue as he went over to Freddie. He passed him the tissue.

“Spit it out, please. This is your second warning, Miss Mercury. Any more and it will have consequences.”

There was a barely noticeable twitch in Freddie’s mouth. He never broke eye contact as he spit the gum into the tissue, wrapping it up neatly and placed it in the corner of his table. Roger followed the movement but his eyes were caught by something else.

Freddie’s paper was completely empty.

“You were supposed to work on your assignments, Miss Mercury.”

“Wasn’t feeling it, Mister Taylor.” he replied airily.

Roger sighed, rubbing his temples.

“This won’t do. Get up and bend over my desk. I won’t tolerate this behaviour.”

Freddie swallowed visibly but suppressed a smile as he did as he was told, bracing his arms on the desk, his legs spread slightly further than he actually needed to. Roger watched how the skirt rode up a bit more, exposing the edge of a pair of red panties and his breath got caught in his throat. His eyes flitted to the other two, trying to judge whether they are also wearing lingerie. He couldn’t tell but he could see the dark look in John’s eyes and Brian squirming in his seat.

Heat had been simmering underneath his skin since before they started this whole thing and he felt himself growing hard in his pants. He walked over to Freddie, clearing his throat.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. You were supposed to work in this time but you didn’t so fifteen hits seem appropriate. One for every minute you just wasted. Understood, Miss Mercury?”

Freddie nodded hastily. He pressed back against Roger’s hand when he placed it on the small of his back. He could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin button up, how the muscles moved when Freddie shifted.

“I want you to count along.”

He tugged the skirt upwards, bunching it up at the waist. The red lace looked beautiful against Freddie’s skin, hugging his ass tightly. Roger couldn’t resist tracing the hemline, grinning when Freddie shuddered.

A creak made him look back to see Brian gripping his table, legs pressed tightly together and his lips parted slightly. Their eyes met and he flushed prettily.

Roger turned back to Freddie who was obviously getting impatient and patted his thigh in apologize. He gasped and twitched.

“I apologize, I got distracted. Let’s get started.”

The first slap rang loudly through the room, followed by a surprised shout from Freddie.

“Count along, Miss Mercury.”

“O-one!”

He took his time, making sure he never hit the same spot twice in a row. Freddie yelled and gasped, making the prettiest noises with every slap, pushing his ass back against Roger while his head fell forward, leaning against the cool wood. He had to remind him to count twice more, clicking his tongue in disappointment but all in all, he took the punishment well.

His thighs were shaking when Roger was done with him and he was rutting up against the table. He looked beautiful.

“There we go. That wasn’t too bad, was it now?” He gently cupped Freddie’s ass, grinning when Freddie whined but arched into the touch. “Stay right there.”

He didn’t pull down his skirt, leaving the red skin exposed as he turned towards Brian and John.

Brian was still gripping his table, his legs crossed tightly as he rocked in place. He was staring shamelessly at Roger’s crotch, licking his lips. John had one hand pressed down on the front of his skirt and Roger tutted, causing him to look up with wide eyes.

“Inappropriate, Miss Deacon, I expected more from you. Over the desk with you, too.”

John whined, almost stumbling as he hurried to comply. Roger caught him by the waist, pulling him against him for a moment, breathing his scent in and feeling him fit perfectly against him before he manhandled him into position. It made him whine again, breath coming in sharp pants.

Roger had barely touched them and they were already such messes. It did something to him, making him feel hot and powerful, being able to ruin them so easily. He took a deep breath, eyes darting back to Brian for a moment.

Brian got off of being ignored sometimes and just watching them as if he wasn’t there, as if he wasn’t painfully hard and needy but that wasn’t what Roger wanted today.

“Miss May, pass me the ruler please.”

Technically, he could reach the ruler perfectly fine from where he was standing between Freddie and John but he wanted to see Brian listen to him and do as he said.

And he did.

Obediently, he got up and walked around the desk, past his squirming and whining “classmates”, grabbed the ruler and held it out for Roger to take but he made him come back around before he took it from him. He was about to thank him as he spotted something shiny between his locks.

“Are those earrings?” Brian blushed bright red, confirming his suspicions easily. “Miss May, you are aware of the dress code and earrings are forbidden.”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. Then, he stepped away from the desk and gestured to Brian to get in between the other two.

“Bend over.”

Once all three were in position, Roger took a moment to observe them. They looked beautiful like this and he couldn’t wait to get his hands all over them, ruining them completely. He had to palm himself through his pants, groaning softly when he finally got some friction against his hard dick.

“Alright then, Miss Deacon gets ten hits for being a little slut and Miss May gets five for breaking dress code.”

“Mister Taylor-” Freddie whined but Roger cut him off.

“You’ll have to wait, Miss Mercury. Take it as a lesson in patience.”

He flipped John’s skirt up, grinning at the baby blue panties beneath the pantyhose. All it took was one strong tug and the pantyhose ripped.. John squealed, then cursed and whined loudly as he rose to his tip toes, almost hitting his knees against the desk.

“There we go, now we can work. I expect you to count along, too.”

John was much less vocal than Freddie, burying his face in his arms to muffle his whines but nicely counting along, not faltering once. The first hit with the ruler made him jump but afterwards, he held still nicely and after ten hits, Roger hummed happily and rubbed his shoulders soothingly.

Brian’s panties were pale purple that went well with his white stockings and Roger pinched his ass, chuckling when he jumped slightly.

Knowing he couldn’t stay still to save his life, Roger held him down with one hand.

“Same rules for you, Miss May. I expect you to count.”

Brian did squirm and move quite a lot and he was loud, gasping and whining between the numbers, cursing through the whole thing.

Roger stepped back and let his eyes rake over them. He had so many ideas about what he could do to them. He put the ruler away and straightened his shirt, pushed his glasses back up his nose and carded one hand through his hair, trying to smooth it back down a little bit.

“Alright, girls, get up. I think you learned your lessons but I think an apology is in order.”

They exchanged a quick look before mumbling out a half-hearted apology. A small part of him was giddy about the fact that they weren’t even trying.

“This doesn’t sound very convincing.”

A smile appeared on Freddie’s face as he stepped closer, tugging at the collar of Roger’s shirt with a seductive smile, fluttering his eyelashes at him. His thigh brushed over Roger’s erection and he took in a sharp breath.

“Maybe we we can apologize differently? Show you how much we mean it.” He pressed himself against Roger’s chest, their lips almost touching. “We just want to be good, Mister Taylor.”

Roger curled a hand into Freddie’s hair and pulled him into a deep kiss, their teeth clacking together. He cupped his face with his free hand, angling his head slightly to the side and walked him backwards until Freddie bumped into the desk. Without breaking the kiss, Roger lifted him up onto it. Freddie wrapped his legs around his waist and his hands grabbed his shoulders for support.

He let his hands slide up, snapping the hem of his stockings against his thighs, making Freddie whine into his mouth. Roger brushed his fingertips over Freddie’s erection, moaning at the feeling of lace and the way he bucked up into the contact.

Freddie threw his head back and Roger latched onto his throat, sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin. His lipstick was smeared around his mouth. It made him look obscene and wrecked.

“You want to show me how sorry you are?” He asked and Freddie nodded with a low whine. “Alright, Miss May, bend Miss Deacon over the table and eat her out while I fuck Miss Mercury.”

John let out a low groan at that and got into position while Brian sunk to his knees behind him, already licking his lips and looking eager. Roger smoothed a hand over his curls.

“You’re not allowed to make her come.” He said, smiling at the unhappy looks on both John’s and Brian’s faces. “Also, no touching yourself. This goes for all of you. You either come on my cock or you don’t come at all. Understood?”

The three of them nodded and Roger fetched the lube he had stored in one of the drawers and generously lubed his fingers up. His eyes raked over Freddie’s body. He hadn’t moved, still sitting on the table with his legs spread wide. His face was flushed red and his eyes were dark.

Next to him, Brian was already eagerly going to work between John’s legs, panties only pulled to the side as he licked over his entrance. John’s thighs were shaking, hands holding onto the desk with a white-knuckled grip.

“Remember to not let her come.”

Brian hummed in acknowledgment and John yelped and rocked forward, squeezing his eyes shut. Roger tangled his fingers into John’s hair for a moment and kissed his temple before stepping back between Freddie’s legs.

He considered just ripping the red lace but it was almost too pretty to do that and so he just tapped Freddie’s hip so he lifted it and pulled them down to his ankles. Immediately, he pushed one finger in. Freddie keened and grabbed Roger’s shoulders for support.

He gave him a moment to get used to it before he curled his finger and pushed deeper, easily finding his prostate. Swallowing the moan with a kiss, Roger wrapped his free hand around his erection. Freddie pushed up into his fist then rocked back down, fucking himself onto his finger. Roger cursed and rutted against his thigh to relieve at least some of the tightness and get some friction.

John let out a high-pitched whine beside them. He reached for them, finding Freddie’s hand and threaded their fingers together. Both of them looked wrecked and filthy, especially John with Brian kneeling behind him, making obscene slurping noises between muffled moans. They were to engrossed in staring into each others eyes that Roger could easily slide another finger into Freddie. He arched his back beautifully, letting out the prettiest strangled whine. John’s eyes widened in awe.

“Oh God, Rog-”

Roger tutted in displeasure.

“Behave, Miss Deacon.” Roger panted, focusing hard on keeping his thrusts steady, spreading his fingers to stretch Freddie properly.

“So-sorry, Mister Taylor.”

Roger aligned a third finger, slowly pushed it in and Freddie’s fingers were probably leaving imprints even through his shirt. He was muttering curses under his breath.

“More, more, please! Please, Mister Taylor!”

“Want me to fuck you, hm? Think you’ve been good enough for this, Miss Mercury?”

Freddie nodded hastily and Roger chuckled, kissing him deeply as he curled his fingers a last time before pulling them out. The unhappy whine made him laugh. He unbuckled his pants, pulled them down just enough to free his dick, then grabbed the lube again, this time slicking up his dick and sank into Freddie with one powerful thrust. They both let out a long moan.

Roger brought their foreheads together, giving him the moment he needed to get used to the feeling of being full. He could see him squeezing John’s hand, who was not even trying to hold himself up anymore, his upper body lying flat on the desk, face turned towards them. His hair was sweat-damp and curling slightly against his temples and he was making those small, high-pitched noises that let him know that he was a little bit too close to coming for Roger’s liking.

“Slow down a little bit, Miss May.”

Brian let out a reluctant whine but did as he was told.

“Rog- Fuck, Mister Taylor, move, please!”

Roger set a fast pace, fucking into Freddie with enough force that the table moved, which sent John and Brian scrambling for purchase but they arranged themselves quickly.

Freddie wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Roger grabbed his thighs and lifted them slightly, giving himself a deeper angle and Freddie shouted, then cursed. Roger bent down to suck a mark against his neck, his thrusts never faltering.

“Fuck, please, Mister Taylor, I- shit, please touch me!”

Taking mercy on him, he jerked him off in quick strokes, trying to hit Freddie’s prostate with every other thrust. He brushed his thumb over the head of his dick and Freddie yelled, clenching around him and spilling all over his hand. Roger groaned, slowing down but not pulling out just yet and kept stroking him until Freddie squirmed and whine from being almost too sensitive.

He pressed a last, lingering and wet kiss to Freddie’s mouth as he pulled out slowly.

Freddie’s feet hit the floor with a dull thud and Roger groaned when he saw a small dribble of cum run down his thigh. He was still catching his breath, chest heaving and Roger grabbed him by the loose tie for another kiss, a softer one this time.

Afterwards, he stepped back to turn his attention to the other two, giving Freddie the time to come down a little bit. He tangled his hand into Brian’s curls and pulled him up, ignoring the unhappy whine he made to kiss him.

Brian mewled into his mouth, melting against him and grinded up against him. Roger let him for a moment, even pressed his thigh between Brian’s legs, giving him the friction he desperately wanted.

“Miss Deacon, clean up Miss Mercury while I take care of Miss May.”

John slid off the desk and crawled over to Freddie to settle down in front of him. Freddie cursed weakly when he licked over the inside of his thighs, eagerly lapping up any cum. He also paid special attention to the rest of his legs, mouthing along the stockings and Roger watched fondly how Freddie brushed a few stray strands out of his face.

Brian whined and shuddered against him and Roger swiftly unbuttoned his waistcoat and pulled the button-down out of the skirt. His blazer was pulled off quickly and landed carelessly thrown to the ground. Roger’s hand slipped beneath the shirt to tease his nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs.

He rocked against Roger, his head falling against his shoulder with a keen. Knowing he had to be careful if he didn’t want this to be over too fast, Roger pulled back and grabbed Brian by the waist to manhandled him so he was bend over the table. He reached for the lube and squeezed a good amount on his fingers.

Not wanting to waste time, Roger pulled the panties to the side and prepared Brian quickly, stretching him open with three fingers before sinking into him slowly. Brian tried to coax him into moving but he clicked his tongue into displeasure and held still until he stopped whining.

Once he was quiet, he rucked up the button-down up far enough so he could pinch his nipples, rolling them between his fingers and Brian arched his back prettily, mouth hanging open as loud whines escaped him. Roger set a slow rhythm, making sure to hit Brian’s sweet spot with almost every thrust.

“Mister Tay- Oh, shit! Rog- Mister Taylor, please! I need- I’m so close, please just fuck me harder!”

Roger grinned and leaned forward to nibble at his earlobe, kissed down his neck and sucked marks all over it and his shoulders, enjoying the way Brian squirmed beneath him, making all those pretty noises. He then took his dick in his free hand and it only took a couple of strokes until Brian came, head knocking against Roger’s shoulder.

It needed all of his self control for Roger to not come himself, hips stuttering into Brian before he stilled, eyes squeezed shut tightly. He let his head fall against his back, desperately holding himself back. He still had to take care of John after all.

“Miss Deacon-” He panted as he pulled out, patting Brian’s ass gently. “Miss Deacon, come here, please.”

John pulled off Freddie, crawling over to him. Roger gently cupped his face, pushing his thumb against his lower lip. John’s tongue brushed against his finger. His eyes were dark and pupils blown wide. Roger swallowed hard.

“I’m not gonna last long, so we have be quick about it.”

He nodded eagerly and pulled Roger’s pants down far enough for him to step out of them.

“You don’t even need to stretch me. I want to feel your cock stretching me, please.” John begged. “I’m so close already, Mister Taylor. I can’t wait any longer.”

Roger groaned and tugged John into a standing position to kiss him. He then also bend him over the desk and despite him telling him he didn’t have to prepare him, Roger still stretched him open a little bit. Not as thoroughly as the others because he knew John liked it that way but enough to make him moan and shout.

He sank into him and knew neither of them would last long, so he grabbed him by the hips and set a fast and deep rhythm. He tangled one hand into John’s hair and pulled him upright until he was pressed flush against Roger’s chest.

After only a handful a thrusts, John groaned and came all over the desk without Roger having to touch him any other way. Roger came with a bitten off groan, hips faltering, then stilled and finally pulled out.

It was quiet for a moment, only their harsh breathing filling the room. Then, a pair of warm hands wrapped around his biceps. It was Freddie, who gently pulled them apart and brushed sweat-damp strands out of Roger’s face, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Good job, Rog.”

Roger laughed softly, pulling him closer by the hip and kissed him again, this time longer. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him and they found each other in a rather awkward, kind of uncomfortable group hug.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?”

“You can still say that.” Brian added, nuzzling the top of his head.

“You’re not subtle at all, Brimi. But fine. Good job, girls.”

“Bathtime?” Freddie asked hopeful.

They all murmured their agreement and broke apart to make their way to the bathroom to clean themselves up.

Roger could hear giggling from the other room and felt a smile tug on his lips. He shifted slightly on his chair, excitement fizzling under his skin, making him feel giddy.

A soft knock caught his attention and he stood, straightening out his button down.

“Come in!”

The door opened and Roger’s breath got caught in his throat. Freddie, Brian and John entered the room, all of them wearing slightly different school girl outfits, complete with small bags.

“Hello, Mister. Taylor.” They all said, voices overlapping slightly.

“Have a seat, girls.”

He nodded towards the three tables set up in front of his own, letting his eyes rake shamelessly over their bodies as they shuffled over.

Roger’s eyes flitted back to the other two, realizing they too were wearing makeup. There was just a small hint of eyeliner on Brian and John had lip gloss on his lips.

He cleared his throat, sitting back down behind his desk.

“This is detention, girls, so I expect you to be quiet and do your assignments. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mister Taylor.” they chorused back and Roger smiled.

The silence lasted only for a couple of minutes until he could hear- and see- Freddie leaning over to Brian to try and get John’s attention by clicking his tongue.

“Silence, Miss Mercury.”

Freddie had the decency to look reprimanded as he sat back again but there was something in his eyes that made Roger frown. He clearly had some kind of mischief planned.

Roger put his book up again.

He made it about half a paragraph far- not that he actually caught anything of what he was reading- until a loud rustling sound made him look up again.

John had pulled a wrapping paper out of his bag, unwrapping something that seemed to be a sandwich.

“Miss Deacon, no eating permitted in detention. You should know that.”

John looked at him with wide eyes, sheepishly biting his lip. Roger found himself mesmerized by it. He waved him towards him, expectantly holding out his hand for the sandwich.

“Bring it here, please. I won’t tolerate any distractions.”

“Thank you, Miss Deacon. Please return to your seat and finish your work.”

“Miss Mercury.” Roger said, “There is also no gum allowed. Get rid of it, now.”

Freddie grinned cheekily and blew a big bubble, popping it loudly. Roger sighed, shutting his book closed and stood up, grabbing a tissue as he went over to Freddie. He passed him the tissue.

“Spit it out, please. This is your second warning, Miss Mercury. Any more and it will have consequences.”

Freddie’s paper was completely empty.

“You were supposed to work on your assignments, Miss Mercury.”

“Wasn’t feeling it, Mister Taylor.” he replied airily.

Roger sighed, rubbing his temples.

“This won’t do. Get up and bend over my desk. I won’t tolerate this behaviour.”

Heat had been simmering underneath his skin since before they started this whole thing and he felt himself growing hard in his pants. He walked over to Freddie, clearing his throat.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. You were supposed to work in this time but you didn’t so fifteen hits seem appropriate. One for every minute you just wasted. Understood, Miss Mercury?”

“I want you to count along.”

A creak made him look back to see Brian gripping his table, legs pressed tightly together and his lips parted slightly. Their eyes met and he flushed prettily.

Roger turned back to Freddie who was obviously getting impatient and patted his thigh in apologize. He gasped and twitched.

“I apologize, I got distracted. Let’s get started.”

The first slap rang loudly through the room, followed by a surprised shout from Freddie.

“Count along, Miss Mercury.”

“O-one!”

His thighs were shaking when Roger was done with him and he was rutting up against the table. He looked beautiful.

“There we go. That wasn’t too bad, was it now?” He gently cupped Freddie’s ass, grinning when Freddie whined but arched into the touch. “Stay right there.”

He didn’t pull down his skirt, leaving the red skin exposed as he turned towards Brian and John.

“Inappropriate, Miss Deacon, I expected more from you. Over the desk with you, too.”

Brian got off of being ignored sometimes and just watching them as if he wasn’t there, as if he wasn’t painfully hard and needy but that wasn’t what Roger wanted today.

“Miss May, pass me the ruler please.”

Technically, he could reach the ruler perfectly fine from where he was standing between Freddie and John but he wanted to see Brian listen to him and do as he said.

And he did.

“Are those earrings?” Brian blushed bright red, confirming his suspicions easily. “Miss May, you are aware of the dress code and earrings are forbidden.”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. Then, he stepped away from the desk and gestured to Brian to get in between the other two.

“Bend over.”

“Alright then, Miss Deacon gets ten hits for being a little slut and Miss May gets five for breaking dress code.”

“Mister Taylor-” Freddie whined but Roger cut him off.

“You’ll have to wait, Miss Mercury. Take it as a lesson in patience.”

“There we go, now we can work. I expect you to count along, too.”

Brian’s panties were pale purple that went well with his white stockings and Roger pinched his ass, chuckling when he jumped slightly.

Knowing he couldn’t stay still to save his life, Roger held him down with one hand.

“Same rules for you, Miss May. I expect you to count.”

Brian did squirm and move quite a lot and he was loud, gasping and whining between the numbers, cursing through the whole thing.

“Alright, girls, get up. I think you learned your lessons but I think an apology is in order.”

They exchanged a quick look before mumbling out a half-hearted apology. A small part of him was giddy about the fact that they weren’t even trying.

“This doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Maybe we we can apologize differently? Show you how much we mean it.” He pressed himself against Roger’s chest, their lips almost touching. “We just want to be good, Mister Taylor.”

Freddie threw his head back and Roger latched onto his throat, sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin. His lipstick was smeared around his mouth. It made him look obscene and wrecked.

“You want to show me how sorry you are?” He asked and Freddie nodded with a low whine. “Alright, Miss May, bend Miss Deacon over the table and eat her out while I fuck Miss Mercury.”

John let out a low groan at that and got into position while Brian sunk to his knees behind him, already licking his lips and looking eager. Roger smoothed a hand over his curls.

“Remember to not let her come.”

“Oh God, Rog-”

Roger tutted in displeasure.

“Behave, Miss Deacon.” Roger panted, focusing hard on keeping his thrusts steady, spreading his fingers to stretch Freddie properly.

“So-sorry, Mister Taylor.”

Roger aligned a third finger, slowly pushed it in and Freddie’s fingers were probably leaving imprints even through his shirt. He was muttering curses under his breath.

“More, more, please! Please, Mister Taylor!”

“Want me to fuck you, hm? Think you’ve been good enough for this, Miss Mercury?”

“Slow down a little bit, Miss May.”

Brian let out a reluctant whine but did as he was told.

“Rog- Fuck, Mister Taylor, move, please!”

Roger set a fast pace, fucking into Freddie with enough force that the table moved, which sent John and Brian scrambling for purchase but they arranged themselves quickly.

“Fuck, please, Mister Taylor, I- shit, please touch me!”

He pressed a last, lingering and wet kiss to Freddie’s mouth as he pulled out slowly.

Brian mewled into his mouth, melting against him and grinded up against him. Roger let him for a moment, even pressed his thigh between Brian’s legs, giving him the friction he desperately wanted.

“Miss Deacon, clean up Miss Mercury while I take care of Miss May.”

“Mister Tay- Oh, shit! Rog- Mister Taylor, please! I need- I’m so close, please just fuck me harder!”

“Miss Deacon-” He panted as he pulled out, patting Brian’s ass gently. “Miss Deacon, come here, please.”

“I’m not gonna last long, so we have be quick about it.”

He nodded eagerly and pulled Roger’s pants down far enough for him to step out of them.

“You don’t even need to stretch me. I want to feel your cock stretching me, please.” John begged. “I’m so close already, Mister Taylor. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Good job, Rog.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?”

“You can still say that.” Brian added, nuzzling the top of his head.

“You’re not subtle at all, Brimi. But fine. Good job, girls.”

“Bathtime?” Freddie asked hopeful.

They all murmured their agreement and broke apart to make their way to the bathroom to clean themselves up.

Roger could hear giggling from the other room and felt a smile tug on his lips. He shifted slightly on his chair, excitement fizzling under his skin, making him feel giddy.

A soft knock caught his attention and he stood, straightening out his button down.

“Come in!”

The door opened and Roger’s breath got caught in his throat. Freddie, Brian and John entered the room, all of them wearing slightly different school girl outfits, complete with small bags.

“Hello, Mister. Taylor.” They all said, voices overlapping slightly.

“Have a seat, girls.”

He nodded towards the three tables set up in front of his own, letting his eyes rake shamelessly over their bodies as they shuffled over.

Roger’s eyes flitted back to the other two, realizing they too were wearing makeup. There was just a small hint of eyeliner on Brian and John had lip gloss on his lips.

He cleared his throat, sitting back down behind his desk.

“This is detention, girls, so I expect you to be quiet and do your assignments. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mister Taylor.” they chorused back and Roger smiled.

The silence lasted only for a couple of minutes until he could hear- and see- Freddie leaning over to Brian to try and get John’s attention by clicking his tongue.

“Silence, Miss Mercury.”

Freddie had the decency to look reprimanded as he sat back again but there was something in his eyes that made Roger frown. He clearly had some kind of mischief planned.

Roger put his book up again.

He made it about half a paragraph far- not that he actually caught anything of what he was reading- until a loud rustling sound made him look up again.

John had pulled a wrapping paper out of his bag, unwrapping something that seemed to be a sandwich.

“Miss Deacon, no eating permitted in detention. You should know that.”

John looked at him with wide eyes, sheepishly biting his lip. Roger found himself mesmerized by it. He waved him towards him, expectantly holding out his hand for the sandwich.

“Bring it here, please. I won’t tolerate any distractions.”

“Thank you, Miss Deacon. Please return to your seat and finish your work.”

“Miss Mercury.” Roger said, “There is also no gum allowed. Get rid of it, now.”

Freddie grinned cheekily and blew a big bubble, popping it loudly. Roger sighed, shutting his book closed and stood up, grabbing a tissue as he went over to Freddie. He passed him the tissue.

“Spit it out, please. This is your second warning, Miss Mercury. Any more and it will have consequences.”

Freddie’s paper was completely empty.

“You were supposed to work on your assignments, Miss Mercury.”

“Wasn’t feeling it, Mister Taylor.” he replied airily.

Roger sighed, rubbing his temples.

“This won’t do. Get up and bend over my desk. I won’t tolerate this behaviour.”

Heat had been simmering underneath his skin since before they started this whole thing and he felt himself growing hard in his pants. He walked over to Freddie, clearing his throat.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. You were supposed to work in this time but you didn’t so fifteen hits seem appropriate. One for every minute you just wasted. Understood, Miss Mercury?”

“I want you to count along.”

A creak made him look back to see Brian gripping his table, legs pressed tightly together and his lips parted slightly. Their eyes met and he flushed prettily.

Roger turned back to Freddie who was obviously getting impatient and patted his thigh in apologize. He gasped and twitched.

“I apologize, I got distracted. Let’s get started.”

The first slap rang loudly through the room, followed by a surprised shout from Freddie.

“Count along, Miss Mercury.”

“O-one!”

His thighs were shaking when Roger was done with him and he was rutting up against the table. He looked beautiful.

“There we go. That wasn’t too bad, was it now?” He gently cupped Freddie’s ass, grinning when Freddie whined but arched into the touch. “Stay right there.”

He didn’t pull down his skirt, leaving the red skin exposed as he turned towards Brian and John.

“Inappropriate, Miss Deacon, I expected more from you. Over the desk with you, too.”

Brian got off of being ignored sometimes and just watching them as if he wasn’t there, as if he wasn’t painfully hard and needy but that wasn’t what Roger wanted today.

“Miss May, pass me the ruler please.”

Technically, he could reach the ruler perfectly fine from where he was standing between Freddie and John but he wanted to see Brian listen to him and do as he said.

And he did.

“Are those earrings?” Brian blushed bright red, confirming his suspicions easily. “Miss May, you are aware of the dress code and earrings are forbidden.”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. Then, he stepped away from the desk and gestured to Brian to get in between the other two.

“Bend over.”

“Alright then, Miss Deacon gets ten hits for being a little slut and Miss May gets five for breaking dress code.”

“Mister Taylor-” Freddie whined but Roger cut him off.

“You’ll have to wait, Miss Mercury. Take it as a lesson in patience.”

“There we go, now we can work. I expect you to count along, too.”

Brian’s panties were pale purple that went well with his white stockings and Roger pinched his ass, chuckling when he jumped slightly.

Knowing he couldn’t stay still to save his life, Roger held him down with one hand.

“Same rules for you, Miss May. I expect you to count.”

Brian did squirm and move quite a lot and he was loud, gasping and whining between the numbers, cursing through the whole thing.

“Alright, girls, get up. I think you learned your lessons but I think an apology is in order.”

They exchanged a quick look before mumbling out a half-hearted apology. A small part of him was giddy about the fact that they weren’t even trying.

“This doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Maybe we we can apologize differently? Show you how much we mean it.” He pressed himself against Roger’s chest, their lips almost touching. “We just want to be good, Mister Taylor.”

Freddie threw his head back and Roger latched onto his throat, sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin. His lipstick was smeared around his mouth. It made him look obscene and wrecked.

“You want to show me how sorry you are?” He asked and Freddie nodded with a low whine. “Alright, Miss May, bend Miss Deacon over the table and eat her out while I fuck Miss Mercury.”

John let out a low groan at that and got into position while Brian sunk to his knees behind him, already licking his lips and looking eager. Roger smoothed a hand over his curls.

“Remember to not let her come.”

“Oh God, Rog-”

Roger tutted in displeasure.

“Behave, Miss Deacon.” Roger panted, focusing hard on keeping his thrusts steady, spreading his fingers to stretch Freddie properly.

“So-sorry, Mister Taylor.”

Roger aligned a third finger, slowly pushed it in and Freddie’s fingers were probably leaving imprints even through his shirt. He was muttering curses under his breath.

“More, more, please! Please, Mister Taylor!”

“Want me to fuck you, hm? Think you’ve been good enough for this, Miss Mercury?”

“Slow down a little bit, Miss May.”

Brian let out a reluctant whine but did as he was told.

“Rog- Fuck, Mister Taylor, move, please!”

Roger set a fast pace, fucking into Freddie with enough force that the table moved, which sent John and Brian scrambling for purchase but they arranged themselves quickly.

“Fuck, please, Mister Taylor, I- shit, please touch me!”

He pressed a last, lingering and wet kiss to Freddie’s mouth as he pulled out slowly.

Brian mewled into his mouth, melting against him and grinded up against him. Roger let him for a moment, even pressed his thigh between Brian’s legs, giving him the friction he desperately wanted.

“Miss Deacon, clean up Miss Mercury while I take care of Miss May.”

“Mister Tay- Oh, shit! Rog- Mister Taylor, please! I need- I’m so close, please just fuck me harder!”

“Miss Deacon-” He panted as he pulled out, patting Brian’s ass gently. “Miss Deacon, come here, please.”

“I’m not gonna last long, so we have be quick about it.”

He nodded eagerly and pulled Roger’s pants down far enough for him to step out of them.

“You don’t even need to stretch me. I want to feel your cock stretching me, please.” John begged. “I’m so close already, Mister Taylor. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Good job, Rog.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?”

“You can still say that.” Brian added, nuzzling the top of his head.

“You’re not subtle at all, Brimi. But fine. Good job, girls.”

“Bathtime?” Freddie asked hopeful.

They all murmured their agreement and broke apart to make their way to the bathroom to clean themselves up.

Roger could hear giggling from the other room and felt a smile tug on his lips. He shifted slightly on his chair, excitement fizzling under his skin, making him feel giddy.

A soft knock caught his attention and he stood, straightening out his button down.

“Come in!”

The door opened and Roger’s breath got caught in his throat. Freddie, Brian and John entered the room, all of them wearing slightly different school girl outfits, complete with small bags.

“Hello, Mister. Taylor.” They all said, voices overlapping slightly.

“Have a seat, girls.”

He nodded towards the three tables set up in front of his own, letting his eyes rake shamelessly over their bodies as they shuffled over.

Roger’s eyes flitted back to the other two, realizing they too were wearing makeup. There was just a small hint of eyeliner on Brian and John had lip gloss on his lips.

He cleared his throat, sitting back down behind his desk.

“This is detention, girls, so I expect you to be quiet and do your assignments. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mister Taylor.” they chorused back and Roger smiled.

The silence lasted only for a couple of minutes until he could hear- and see- Freddie leaning over to Brian to try and get John’s attention by clicking his tongue.

“Silence, Miss Mercury.”

Freddie had the decency to look reprimanded as he sat back again but there was something in his eyes that made Roger frown. He clearly had some kind of mischief planned.

Roger put his book up again.

He made it about half a paragraph far- not that he actually caught anything of what he was reading- until a loud rustling sound made him look up again.

John had pulled a wrapping paper out of his bag, unwrapping something that seemed to be a sandwich.

“Miss Deacon, no eating permitted in detention. You should know that.”

John looked at him with wide eyes, sheepishly biting his lip. Roger found himself mesmerized by it. He waved him towards him, expectantly holding out his hand for the sandwich.

“Bring it here, please. I won’t tolerate any distractions.”

“Thank you, Miss Deacon. Please return to your seat and finish your work.”

“Miss Mercury.” Roger said, “There is also no gum allowed. Get rid of it, now.”

Freddie grinned cheekily and blew a big bubble, popping it loudly. Roger sighed, shutting his book closed and stood up, grabbing a tissue as he went over to Freddie. He passed him the tissue.

“Spit it out, please. This is your second warning, Miss Mercury. Any more and it will have consequences.”

Freddie’s paper was completely empty.

“You were supposed to work on your assignments, Miss Mercury.”

“Wasn’t feeling it, Mister Taylor.” he replied airily.

Roger sighed, rubbing his temples.

“This won’t do. Get up and bend over my desk. I won’t tolerate this behaviour.”

Heat had been simmering underneath his skin since before they started this whole thing and he felt himself growing hard in his pants. He walked over to Freddie, clearing his throat.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. You were supposed to work in this time but you didn’t so fifteen hits seem appropriate. One for every minute you just wasted. Understood, Miss Mercury?”

“I want you to count along.”

A creak made him look back to see Brian gripping his table, legs pressed tightly together and his lips parted slightly. Their eyes met and he flushed prettily.

Roger turned back to Freddie who was obviously getting impatient and patted his thigh in apologize. He gasped and twitched.

“I apologize, I got distracted. Let’s get started.”

The first slap rang loudly through the room, followed by a surprised shout from Freddie.

“Count along, Miss Mercury.”

“O-one!”

His thighs were shaking when Roger was done with him and he was rutting up against the table. He looked beautiful.

“There we go. That wasn’t too bad, was it now?” He gently cupped Freddie’s ass, grinning when Freddie whined but arched into the touch. “Stay right there.”

He didn’t pull down his skirt, leaving the red skin exposed as he turned towards Brian and John.

“Inappropriate, Miss Deacon, I expected more from you. Over the desk with you, too.”

Brian got off of being ignored sometimes and just watching them as if he wasn’t there, as if he wasn’t painfully hard and needy but that wasn’t what Roger wanted today.

“Miss May, pass me the ruler please.”

Technically, he could reach the ruler perfectly fine from where he was standing between Freddie and John but he wanted to see Brian listen to him and do as he said.

And he did.

“Are those earrings?” Brian blushed bright red, confirming his suspicions easily. “Miss May, you are aware of the dress code and earrings are forbidden.”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. Then, he stepped away from the desk and gestured to Brian to get in between the other two.

“Bend over.”

“Alright then, Miss Deacon gets ten hits for being a little slut and Miss May gets five for breaking dress code.”

“Mister Taylor-” Freddie whined but Roger cut him off.

“You’ll have to wait, Miss Mercury. Take it as a lesson in patience.”

“There we go, now we can work. I expect you to count along, too.”

Brian’s panties were pale purple that went well with his white stockings and Roger pinched his ass, chuckling when he jumped slightly.

Knowing he couldn’t stay still to save his life, Roger held him down with one hand.

“Same rules for you, Miss May. I expect you to count.”

Brian did squirm and move quite a lot and he was loud, gasping and whining between the numbers, cursing through the whole thing.

“Alright, girls, get up. I think you learned your lessons but I think an apology is in order.”

They exchanged a quick look before mumbling out a half-hearted apology. A small part of him was giddy about the fact that they weren’t even trying.

“This doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Maybe we we can apologize differently? Show you how much we mean it.” He pressed himself against Roger’s chest, their lips almost touching. “We just want to be good, Mister Taylor.”

Freddie threw his head back and Roger latched onto his throat, sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin. His lipstick was smeared around his mouth. It made him look obscene and wrecked.

“You want to show me how sorry you are?” He asked and Freddie nodded with a low whine. “Alright, Miss May, bend Miss Deacon over the table and eat her out while I fuck Miss Mercury.”

John let out a low groan at that and got into position while Brian sunk to his knees behind him, already licking his lips and looking eager. Roger smoothed a hand over his curls.

“Remember to not let her come.”

“Oh God, Rog-”

Roger tutted in displeasure.

“Behave, Miss Deacon.” Roger panted, focusing hard on keeping his thrusts steady, spreading his fingers to stretch Freddie properly.

“So-sorry, Mister Taylor.”

Roger aligned a third finger, slowly pushed it in and Freddie’s fingers were probably leaving imprints even through his shirt. He was muttering curses under his breath.

“More, more, please! Please, Mister Taylor!”

“Want me to fuck you, hm? Think you’ve been good enough for this, Miss Mercury?”

“Slow down a little bit, Miss May.”

Brian let out a reluctant whine but did as he was told.

“Rog- Fuck, Mister Taylor, move, please!”

Roger set a fast pace, fucking into Freddie with enough force that the table moved, which sent John and Brian scrambling for purchase but they arranged themselves quickly.

“Fuck, please, Mister Taylor, I- shit, please touch me!”

He pressed a last, lingering and wet kiss to Freddie’s mouth as he pulled out slowly.

Brian mewled into his mouth, melting against him and grinded up against him. Roger let him for a moment, even pressed his thigh between Brian’s legs, giving him the friction he desperately wanted.

“Miss Deacon, clean up Miss Mercury while I take care of Miss May.”

He rocked against Roger, his head falling against his shoulder with a keen. Knowing he had to be careful if he didn��t want this to be over too fast, Roger pulled back and grabbed Brian by the waist to manhandled him so he was bend over the table. He reached for the lube and squeezed a good amount on his fingers.

“Mister Tay- Oh, shit! Rog- Mister Taylor, please! I need- I’m so close, please just fuck me harder!”

“Miss Deacon-” He panted as he pulled out, patting Brian’s ass gently. “Miss Deacon, come here, please.”

“I’m not gonna last long, so we have be quick about it.”

He nodded eagerly and pulled Roger’s pants down far enough for him to step out of them.

“You don’t even need to stretch me. I want to feel your cock stretching me, please.” John begged. “I’m so close already, Mister Taylor. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Good job, Rog.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?”

“You can still say that.” Brian added, nuzzling the top of his head.

“You’re not subtle at all, Brimi. But fine. Good job, girls.”

“Bathtime?” Freddie asked hopeful.

They all murmured their agreement and broke apart to make their way to the bathroom to clean themselves up.

Roger could hear giggling from the other room and felt a smile tug on his lips. He shifted slightly on his chair, excitement fizzling under his skin, making him feel giddy.

A soft knock caught his attention and he stood, straightening out his button down.

“Come in!”

The door opened and Roger’s breath got caught in his throat. Freddie, Brian and John entered the room, all of them wearing slightly different school girl outfits, complete with small bags.

“Hello, Mister. Taylor.” They all said, voices overlapping slightly.

“Have a seat, girls.”

He nodded towards the three tables set up in front of his own, letting his eyes rake shamelessly over their bodies as they shuffled over.

Roger’s eyes flitted back to the other two, realizing they too were wearing makeup. There was just a small hint of eyeliner on Brian and John had lip gloss on his lips.

He cleared his throat, sitting back down behind his desk.

“This is detention, girls, so I expect you to be quiet and do your assignments. Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mister Taylor.” they chorused back and Roger smiled.

The silence lasted only for a couple of minutes until he could hear- and see- Freddie leaning over to Brian to try and get John’s attention by clicking his tongue.

“Silence, Miss Mercury.”

Freddie had the decency to look reprimanded as he sat back again but there was something in his eyes that made Roger frown. He clearly had some kind of mischief planned.

Roger put his book up again.

He made it about half a paragraph far- not that he actually caught anything of what he was reading- until a loud rustling sound made him look up again.

John had pulled a wrapping paper out of his bag, unwrapping something that seemed to be a sandwich.

“Miss Deacon, no eating permitted in detention. You should know that.”

John looked at him with wide eyes, sheepishly biting his lip. Roger found himself mesmerized by it. He waved him towards him, expectantly holding out his hand for the sandwich.

“Bring it here, please. I won’t tolerate any distractions.”

“Thank you, Miss Deacon. Please return to your seat and finish your work.”

“Miss Mercury.” Roger said, “There is also no gum allowed. Get rid of it, now.”

Freddie grinned cheekily and blew a big bubble, popping it loudly. Roger sighed, shutting his book closed and stood up, grabbing a tissue as he went over to Freddie. He passed him the tissue.

“Spit it out, please. This is your second warning, Miss Mercury. Any more and it will have consequences.”

Freddie’s paper was completely empty.

“You were supposed to work on your assignments, Miss Mercury.”

“Wasn’t feeling it, Mister Taylor.” he replied airily.

Roger sighed, rubbing his temples.

“This won’t do. Get up and bend over my desk. I won’t tolerate this behaviour.”

Heat had been simmering underneath his skin since before they started this whole thing and he felt himself growing hard in his pants. He walked over to Freddie, clearing his throat.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. You were supposed to work in this time but you didn’t so fifteen hits seem appropriate. One for every minute you just wasted. Understood, Miss Mercury?”

“I want you to count along.”

A creak made him look back to see Brian gripping his table, legs pressed tightly together and his lips parted slightly. Their eyes met and he flushed prettily.

Roger turned back to Freddie who was obviously getting impatient and patted his thigh in apologize. He gasped and twitched.

“I apologize, I got distracted. Let’s get started.”

The first slap rang loudly through the room, followed by a surprised shout from Freddie.

“Count along, Miss Mercury.”

“O-one!”

His thighs were shaking when Roger was done with him and he was rutting up against the table. He looked beautiful.

“There we go. That wasn’t too bad, was it now?” He gently cupped Freddie’s ass, grinning when Freddie whined but arched into the touch. “Stay right there.”

He didn’t pull down his skirt, leaving the red skin exposed as he turned towards Brian and John.

“Inappropriate, Miss Deacon, I expected more from you. Over the desk with you, too.”

Brian got off of being ignored sometimes and just watching them as if he wasn’t there, as if he wasn’t painfully hard and needy but that wasn’t what Roger wanted today.

“Miss May, pass me the ruler please.”

Technically, he could reach the ruler perfectly fine from where he was standing between Freddie and John but he wanted to see Brian listen to him and do as he said.

And he did.

“Are those earrings?” Brian blushed bright red, confirming his suspicions easily. “Miss May, you are aware of the dress code and earrings are forbidden.”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. Then, he stepped away from the desk and gestured to Brian to get in between the other two.

“Bend over.”

“Alright then, Miss Deacon gets ten hits for being a little slut and Miss May gets five for breaking dress code.”

“Mister Taylor-” Freddie whined but Roger cut him off.

“You’ll have to wait, Miss Mercury. Take it as a lesson in patience.”

“There we go, now we can work. I expect you to count along, too.”

Brian’s panties were pale purple that went well with his white stockings and Roger pinched his ass, chuckling when he jumped slightly.

Knowing he couldn’t stay still to save his life, Roger held him down with one hand.

“Same rules for you, Miss May. I expect you to count.”

Brian did squirm and move quite a lot and he was loud, gasping and whining between the numbers, cursing through the whole thing.

“Alright, girls, get up. I think you learned your lessons but I think an apology is in order.”

They exchanged a quick look before mumbling out a half-hearted apology. A small part of him was giddy about the fact that they weren’t even trying.

“This doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Maybe we we can apologize differently? Show you how much we mean it.” He pressed himself against Roger’s chest, their lips almost touching. “We just want to be good, Mister Taylor.”

Freddie threw his head back and Roger latched onto his throat, sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin. His lipstick was smeared around his mouth. It made him look obscene and wrecked.

“You want to show me how sorry you are?” He asked and Freddie nodded with a low whine. “Alright, Miss May, bend Miss Deacon over the table and eat her out while I fuck Miss Mercury.”

John let out a low groan at that and got into position while Brian sunk to his knees behind him, already licking his lips and looking eager. Roger smoothed a hand over his curls.

“Remember to not let her come.”

“Oh God, Rog-”

Roger tutted in displeasure.

“Behave, Miss Deacon.” Roger panted, focusing hard on keeping his thrusts steady, spreading his fingers to stretch Freddie properly.

“So-sorry, Mister Taylor.”

Roger aligned a third finger, slowly pushed it in and Freddie’s fingers were probably leaving imprints even through his shirt. He was muttering curses under his breath.

“More, more, please! Please, Mister Taylor!”

“Want me to fuck you, hm? Think you’ve been good enough for this, Miss Mercury?”

“Slow down a little bit, Miss May.”

Brian let out a reluctant whine but did as he was told.

“Rog- Fuck, Mister Taylor, move, please!”

Roger set a fast pace, fucking into Freddie with enough force that the table moved, which sent John and Brian scrambling for purchase but they arranged themselves quickly.

“Fuck, please, Mister Taylor, I- shit, please touch me!”

He pressed a last, lingering and wet kiss to Freddie’s mouth as he pulled out slowly.

Brian mewled into his mouth, melting against him and grinded up against him. Roger let him for a moment, even pressed his thigh between Brian’s legs, giving him the friction he desperately wanted.

“Miss Deacon, clean up Miss Mercury while I take care of Miss May.”

“Mister Tay- Oh, shit! Rog- Mister Taylor, please! I need- I’m so close, please just fuck me harder!”

“Miss Deacon-” He panted as he pulled out, patting Brian’s ass gently. “Miss Deacon, come here, please.”

“I’m not gonna last long, so we have be quick about it.”

He nodded eagerly and pulled Roger’s pants down far enough for him to step out of them.

“You don’t even need to stretch me. I want to feel your cock stretching me, please.” John begged. “I’m so close already, Mister Taylor. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Good job, Rog.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?”

“You can still say that.” Brian added, nuzzling the top of his head.

“You’re not subtle at all, Brimi. But fine. Good job, girls.”

“Bathtime?” Freddie asked hopeful.

They all murmured their agreement and broke apart to make their way to the bathroom to clean themselves up.

#poly!queen #poly!queen week 2019 #smut #is this the best thing i've ever written? No #But am I proud of it? Kinda yeah!

25 notes · View notes

thebrotherswholoved · 5 years

Text

Day Two: “Secret Santa”

“How much homework d’you got?”

Sam’s sitting there, staring at the eraser of a number two pencil, trying to make it implode. Maybe if he has no pencil he won’t have to take the exam?

“Sam?”

Oh, yeah. Jessica’s sitting cross legged on the table beside him, legs knocking into the nearby bookcase just filled to the brim with knowledge: useless and obsolete knowledge, at least. That section of the library is history. Oh, shit, will Gottesman put Assyrian culture on the test?!

“Samuel Winchester, what is going on inside that big head of yours?” Jess flirts in that shameless, up-in-the-clouds air about her that made the entire junior varsity football team fall for her.

Sam thinks she’s cute. That said, he doesn’t think she’s hot and she’s definitely not his type, but she’s sweet and bakes delicious pastries for the environmental awareness club’s bake sale. She’s the type of girl any guy, girl, or anybody in between would be lucky to have—just not him. Jess would be his type if she had short hair. And a more phallic pubic area.

He’d usually make conversation and let his dimples do the talking to protect her from eminent rejection on his part, but he’s too fucking stressed right now to do anything but dissociate and stare at the damn pencil he’s holding.

“Mostly elephants,” he mutters, flicking at the wood like a syringe. He just came from his anatomy course, so he’s in a doctor-y mood.

The blonde snorts a bit, covers her nose, and tries to cover up her ‘crudeness’ with a dainty chuckle. “Elephants? Why the hell are you thinking of elephants, beautiful mind?”

“I’m trying to remember who they trampled in that one damn war, I think it’s the Persian one?” He blows air through his teeth and rolls the writing utensil away until it hits his pre-calculus book. “And I’m wondering if they can trample me.”

“You’ll do fine, Sam,” she slides off the table, tiny plaid skirt pleating with her in the motion. That just reminds him of how scratchy his own plaid tie is against his throat. Damn uniforms. “It’s Reid you need to worry about. He’s gonna kill my grade.”

This draws a chuckle from the lanky freshman, long hair—that just barely abides by the dress code—dangling in his face.

“Like, with the test or wielding a sword?”

“Yes,” Jess sighs and prepares to leave to her next period. “Alright, nerd. Good luck with your elephants, or whatever.”

Sam lets out a breathy laugh and turns to look out the window at the snow falling into the bleak mid morning air. He wishes he could go and frolic out there—maybe even practice his physics by zigzagging around an open area to prove his hypothesis.

“You Sam Winchester?”

Jumping out of his skin, he turns around and is met with the sight of Benny, a boy in his English class he’s never spoken to.

“Uh...yes?” He stutters. This boy is intimidating: he’s a sophomore in remedial English, a jock, and a total dickhead to freshmen. Especially nerdy freshmen on the robotics team—great, this is exactly what he needs right now.

Before he can offer any explanation up for why this guy is even in a library, a tiny package is being tossed into his hands and Benny is trudging away to go beat up a mathlete or something.

The small box is wrapped in what appears to be the Sunday comics from the newspaper, and judging by the date on one of the sides, it was yesterday’s paper. The job is poor, but the haste the person who wrapped it was in seems to be kind-of endearing. There’s a dollar store bow taped onto the top of the gift, and Sam feels an impulse to be as delicate as possible.

Unwrapping the thin pages covering the present and opens the box, he feels his heart drop into his lungs at what he finds. It’s a necklace with thin black thread and a golden pendant in the shape of some ancient figure’s head. Whoever this is, they know his style—it’s absolutely beautiful.

When he takes it into his hands like a wounded dove, a note falls out as well. It’s written with erasable ink on loose leaf notebook paper and folded into uneven quarter squares. The handwriting betrays the presentation, however: beautiful cursive glides across the page in narrow strokes of the shitty blue-inked pen used. In shock, he holds the note in both hands while still thumbing over the blunt edges of the pendant.

“Sam—

God, that’s a pretty name. It suits you, you know: you’re totally a Sam. A pretty name for a pretty boy.

Sorry, I know I suck at this. I’m only writing because I’m too fucking scared to talk to you. I know I’ll blush and make a fool of myself, and that’s not attractive.

We’ve met twice before. Once in September when you worked as a library aide and helped me find a barcode on a Stephen King novel, and again last week when I picked up your pencil for you. Each of those times I had to walk away and breathe for a minute because you just stole my suaveness and tore it to shreds.

I want you to wear this necklace all week, okay? My uncle gave it to me, and I don’t do jewelry, but I thought it’d look good on you. It’s supposed to bring good luck to the wearer, not like you’ll need it. You just seemed stressed.

If I have the balls, I’ll try to talk to ‘ya soon in person.

Awkwardly,

Your Secret Santa”

Sam’s hands are trembling with excitement and trepidation at the note. Someone likes him—and it’s a boy! He’s never had another guy like him, ever. Then again, who the hell is this boy with beautiful handwriting?

He helped a lot of people check out books in September, and lots of Stephen King novels were read. Plus, he’s fucking clumsy. Literally everyone has had to pick up his pencil for him!

It’s gonna be a long week.

•••

For the love of god, let his suffering end!

Sam wants to bang his head against his locker until he passes out. This secret santa gig coupled with the seven midterms he’s taken this week have successfully steeped his brain in anxiety. His last exam period just got let out and yes, elephants were included; but now, he has no distraction from the whole crush scenario.

The brunette fumbles with his amulet in stressed anticipation as his steps quicken, eager to escape the hallway and get to his locker. Over the course of the last five days, he’s received four more notes in the same penmanship, each one making his heart melt. Sure, it’s no Shakespeare but it’s unique and genuine.

His fingers tremble as he twists the number dial lock: 11-02-83. Expecting a note, he begins scanning the blue walls of the metal rectangle but finds nothing but that same handwriting in erasable marker on the door:

“Turn around.”

By the time he whips around, brown hair following the action, he’s neglected to notice that everyone has cleared the hallway and is standing with giddy smiles and phones on video. The only person in this vacant zone is a tall, sandy blonde, freckled junior boy.

Holy shit. It’s Dean fucking Smith.

His hand finds the necklace and he tries to breathe but can’t find the willpower to do so. His brain is running into overdrive trying to decide if this is real or not. The footsteps nearing him seem real and so do the calloused, motor-oil-stained fingers wrapping around his hand in a cautious way, Dean being afraid of something Sam can’t quite place.

“Do you like it?” The boy runs his fingers through his spiked hair and bites his lip, cheeks blushing beet red.

“I love it.” Sam blurts out before his sense of reason can muffle his heart. Exhaling, he relaxes a bit. “I really love it.”

Dean lets out a breath and lets his thumb roll over the soft skin on the back of the younger’s hand. “Good. I hoped you would.”

Sam’s heart is beating out of his chest like in one of those wacky cartoons, but he steps forward and rocks back on his heels. Bravery rising, his hand moved from his own to cup under his chin, emerald eyes scanning his lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t need to ask twice. Sam’s head seems to nod before the taller man can even finish his question, and Dean’s eyes flicker with excitement before closing. The gap between them is closed and chapped lips meet peppermint chapstick as their worlds collide. The crowd is cheering but they can’t hear anything. Both boys are far too focused on the taste of each other on their tongues and when they part, Dean drops his bad boy act and wraps him in a hug.

Arms tightening around his neck in response, Sam brings his lips to Dean’s ear and smiles.

“You have beautiful handwriting.”

#wincest #sam x dean #sam/dean #fanfic #drabble #10 days of wincest #prompt list #see my other post #this took awhile sorry

44 notes · View notes

floggingink · 5 years

Text

Riverdale, “Chapter Forty-Seven: Bizarrodale”

Jughead eats: QUICK SHOT OF BRUNCH

the print on Josie’s bomber jacket? confounding

“If there’s no wedding reception, it means the Gargoyle King has won.”

Ms. McCoy in bright blue? confounding

have Moose’s eyebrows gotten thicker? he...he fine

Cheryl’s sheaths: like a true gay icon, Cheryl wears both a satiny demi-cup bustier and a flannel in bed with Toni, who’s rocking a sort of cottony Aerie bralette

Hermione’s earrings look like divining rods, which makes sense

“dangerously unhinged,” in this day and age? UNHINGED?

Cheryl is “legacy” in Riverdale’s version of Smith College

Cheryl’s pins: in her droopy 1920’s lady-reporter tie, Cheryl has a pin that is probably a bee but is POSSIBLY a giant frightening moth like in the Silence of the Lambs poster

Moose’s hair is longer or something and he’s like? I don’t know but I’m a gay boy all of a sudden, like let me at All That

I like how he pauses but goes in for more kisses after Kevin tells him he wants to ask him something

he’s like…..so tall….and he has this a little mole on his cheek….

(RIP Midge)

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: you look me in my pale astigmatic eyes and tell me the little snitch canary “told you they were in here sir” smug Malfoy stool pigeon ISN’T a pillow queen and I’ll give you this money RIGHT NOW. THAT thin-lipped smirk? with THAT cleft chin? he’s a gay, your honor

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: oh fuck!!!! Sweet Pea has a VERY vulnerable, soft-masculinity speech about his heartspace and emotional boundaries and he’s so fluffy-haired and trying to be gentle with himself……….SWEET PEA……..

Best costume bit: don’t miss the two-second shot of a Prostitute in a turquoise pencil skirt and red velvet blazer and pearls AND GLASSES leading a man by the tie down the Maple Club hallway

“Damn good coffee”: also this jazz music and Cheryl’s short pantsuit

WHERE CAN I GET CHERYL’S MINI BACKPACK

The Blossom spawn: I know Penelope Blossom is not out here suggesting there are no lesbians in what I assume is a women’s college. I remember when I got into My Women’s College one of the nuns at my church was like, Ha ha! Don’t let the drug-dealing lesbians get you! and I was like, How do you already know the plot of Riverdale season 3? but then I was also like, Ma’am why did you join this monastery?

Fifth period is AP English: “THIS IS THE PRICE OF SALT.”

Lawyer McCoy is right, Ex-Sheriff Keller IS a snack and this bitch’s blood sugar is low

I love Sierra and Whatsit playing Lawyers in bed because it happens to be my thing too and I want to be there with them

Certified pedigree: his name’s Tom right? he’s SO HANDSOME. everyone is so handsome right now!!!!!!! (I’m ovulating)

this is the same fancy hotel room Jughead and Betty stayed in when he sort of proposed to her? this is just the upscale version of the sex bunker

Kevin eats when he’s stressed, as you will recall from the drive-in S1 episode

“an epaulette to cry on”

Cheryl’s hair: and Cheryl’s sleeves!!!!!!!

Sixth period is Intro to Film: “looking like a community theater production of The Talented Mr. Ripley” is the SECOND time handsome bicurious Tom Ripley has been name-dropped (also the drive-in S1 episode)

“I can’t go back to Fox Forest” is like the most tragic thing. HE CAN’T GO CRUISING AGAIN

“Oh, sullen, tenderhearted Kevin.”

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “RAPTUROUS”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I like that Cheryl continues to use words like “whilst” and “amongst”

is Moose wearing a denim Henley? MOOSE?

the closed captioning renders it “O shutterbug of my dreams.” “O,” LIKE CHERYL IS SHAKESPEARE

I absolutely buy that Cheryl would ask if this was their first fight mid-fight

only Toni among us could wear that many necklaces at once

I did get a little confused when Toni confronts Cheryl in the bathroom, like at first it was about how you shouldn’t out people but then it was about her not being in the Serpents? let’s focus, ladies

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie’s commitment to keeping her eyeshadow coordinated with her jackets over her commitment to boys is aspirational

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: I LOVE ARCHIE’S SIDE-EYE, LIKE………“SWEET PEA?”

Reggie on kneecapping: “Does that really happen?”

Reggie’s voice cracks me up. he’s just a big gorgeous squeezable side hustle dummy bro, so down for the ride, remember when he slugged Jughead? neither does he

REGGIE HONESTLY HONEST-TO-GOD IS JUST LIKE….RONNIE YO YOU NEED SOME MONEY?

“You can be my Baby Driver” uuuuuugggghghhhhhkkhhhhhhhhh REggggeieiee

“JUST PLEASE DON’T SCRATCH MY CAR” has more sexual energy than I think Archie has ever manufactured with anyone EXCEPT BETTY when they kissed that one time you know?????

why do you think Reggie is such a good doofus boyfriend while Archie was such a bad doofus boyfriend? is it because Archie tried to think for himself? or has Reggie just not been given the chance to fuck something up yet

I like Penelope bringing up Sierra and Tom getting married not to shade them but to just be like, They should be happy if they want. I was like, Damn, Penelope! You’re right!

“He is a vicious and petty god.”

lol oh yeah Hiram got shot

Gay?!: as has been discussed, Veronica is reading some classic lesbian pulp fiction for no other reason than I suppose she fucking likes it, and that is BDE

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica would wear those shoes to baby drive

SOMEONE TAKE ME ON A “MAD SAPPHIC CAPER”

Archie > Dawson: Archie is a hot-or-cold boyfriend but he is an EXCELLENT beard!!!! GOOD, ARCHIE

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Reggie takes the same positive attitude towards getting shot and surviving that I hope I would have, which is “at least I can say I got shot”

Moose is like, out and THEREFORE dtf, as if they couldn’t have secretly been having sex this whole time

Toni conceded to Highsmith’s business formal dress code insofar as she wears a black vest over a plaid tie and that’s it

“WHOEVER YOU ARE, PLEASE BE CHILL.”

Veronica’s blue plaid coat SHOCKS me

Veronica was rich: Gladys admires Veronica and Reggie’s gumption showing up with only half the money

is it a coat or is it a miniskirt with a matching jacket?????

God bless jingle-jangle Moose: Moose is so excited that he just absolutely tells Cheryl he’s finally going to have sex. I know the show needs him to say it so Cheryl can tell him to BYOS, but it’s still cute of him, himself. is Moose kind of precious?

remember when Moose got gunned down in that car? Christ

HE BROUGHT A LITTLE RED CANDLE!!!!!

I love when people take off their whole belt, as if you can’t just undo it and still take your jeans off

dope deer skull! plus: everyone’s fucking

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: I’ve lost track a little bit of whether or not Alice KNOWS Betty and Jughead are literally/colloquially sleeping together in Betty’s bedroom, or are they taking advantage of her being gone?

The female gaze: Reggie’s chest is the new Archie’s chest

“NIGHT HAG”

“KEEP YOUR BOW CLOSE.”

Moose is MASSIVE like, do you see those arms?

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: HIS BEAUTIFUL FLIPPY HAIR ON THE PILLOW

Dilton Doiley Ethel Muggs The Gargoyle Children: the RROTC guy is Chris Cooper in American Beauty???

Gay.: Sierra was halfway right about “the jealousy thing”

even FP, conducting his interview in his flannel, is like, bruh

These students are legally children: his “Man, the Sisters did a number on you” feels like Riverdale’s version of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s “The Catholics really fucked you up”

Jughead doubts it: Jughead makes a good point. is there one costumes everyone keeps using or is it that easy to DIY your own Gargoyle King?

“UR-KING,” JUGHEAD, PLEASE

oh I can see Jughead about to be disillusioned by his family coming a mile away

Archie’s soft soft sweater? confounding

at least Moose isn’t moving to Toledo, am I right

CHERYL’S SLEEVES?????????

What damn high school in America: Cheryl’s girl gang is 100% Teddy girls and I love them

THE WHITE STRIPE ON REGGIE’S SWEATER and the little black birds on Veronica’s shirt!

Gladys & JB are already a more powerful duo than FP & Jughead could ever hope to be

ARCHIE ASKS HER IF HE COULD KISS HER. THAT’S VERY SEXY OF YOU, ARCHIE. GOOD, ARCHIE

wait Moose is moving to Glendale? SABRINA-GLENDALE? MOOSE WAIT A SECOND?

NEXT WEEK: Gladys tells Veronica to pray, OH BOY

#riverdale #commentary #tropes #i say

11 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 6 years

Note

Prompt; when Emily doesn’t know what she’s being for Halloween yet and Aubrey doesn’t have a partner for what’s considered a “couples costume” (u can choose what costume)

SEND ME CUTE HALLOWEEN PROMPTS HERE

The second her bedroom door slammed shut behind her, Aubrey Posen reached for an embroidered pillow and let out a muffled scream into the fabric. A stupid little saying had been written into it’s muted brown color. Something about bears- she had never paid much mind to the decretive piece, and she wasn’t going to start tonight. It was nothing but a silencer.

A stark white wedding dress laid easily among a meticulously made bed. The plaid design of it all was lined up perfectly with the dresser. The room still mostly dark; a propped open window let in cool October air as moonlight washed over a vacuumed floor. The dress had been through a wringer, stained in mud and deviled by long scrapes of Spanish moss that fell from the very trees past their front door.

Things hadn’t gone Aubrey’s way tonight. She had stayed late on a lecture to give her physic’s teacher a piece of her mind, nearly missed the bus back to her lowly apartment. She had just caught it, but not before large tires sloshed murky ice water into her clothes. And now this? Her coworker deciding, he wanted to suck face with the cashier at a ready-mart instead of attending a Halloween party with her.

At least he had been polite about the decline in plans, having left the perfectly trimmed suit in front of her door with a little post-it note that was scrawled with the word sorry. Yeah, Aubrey was close to punching his stupid face. She was dateless and fuming and he probably got a discount on slim Jim’s and artificially flavored nachos.

The knock at the door didn’t help much either. It was soft and timid- and god, why hadn’t Chloe pulled herself from the clutches of her room and answered it already?

Aubrey threw the pillow aside, nervily avoiding a lamp that had a flickering bulb in the first place. Her whole body ached, and her lips tasted like mud. Her clothes had just begun to dry but she swallowed back the chills that plagued her. The apartment was quiet. Maybe Chloe wasn’t even home, having gone to the Halloween party herself dawning a pair of flawless feathered wings and cherry red lip stain.

She pulled open the door. A near stranger blinking dangerously at her. Aubrey quirked a brow at her upstairs neighbor, a small woman that looked too young to even be renting an apartment on this side of the city. The artificial lights hung by maintenance shaded her face, and more importantly the innocent beauty about it.

“Oh… Hi,” She blinked like she wasn’t expecting an answer. She raked pools of honey over Aubrey’s stained appearance. The obvious chill that rocked through her was from the cold, she told herself. She looked and smelled like a wet rat.

“I just- well, I found this suit in front of your door, and it looks like a nice suit. But not that I say it, I’m sure you know it’s here. It looks like it’s about to rain, but I’m not Al Roker, so I’m probably wrong and” The stranger clenched her eyes shut, taking a steadying breath “I thought’ I’d let you know.”

Aubrey parted her lips and breathed out deeply, the door creaking as she moved it open a little bit more. This woman was rocking back and forth on her heels like a child awaiting approval. She held the clothing in her grasp, nervously running her thumb over the stinted fabric. She smiled, cheeks heating as Aubrey scanned the woman’s appearance. “How tall are you?”

“What?” It was a breathless mess of a word, the stranger letting tension fall from her shoulders. Relaxed, maybe.

“I mean, you must be 5’6 at least.”

“5’8 but I don’t see-“

“What are you doing tonight?”

Aubrey’s mind was in overdrive. This woman was certainly tall enough to fit the length and stature of the very suit that she was holding, her perfect eyebrow quirked as she clenched her jaw. She was dressed in oversized sweatpants that had Braden written across the side. An even larger sweatshirt pulled over her arms.

“Nothing, really.” Her cheeks heated “I bought a bunch of candy but not many kids come around here so I’ll just sulk and drown my sorrows in chocolate- and you didn’t need to know that.”

No, she didn’t’. But it was quite charming, the way this woman stumbled over her words when she tried to talk. She nervously tucked a strand of brown hair behind a slowly reddening ear. Again, rocking back and forth on her toes.

“How would you feel about being the Victor to my Corpse’s bride? My date kind of bailed last minute and a zombie bride is pretty lame when there’s no suiter by her side.”

“I mean,” Emily swallowed loudly, looking down at the suit “What do I have to lose?”

“That’s the spirit.”

Aubrey stepped further to the right, allowing the woman inside of her tiny little apartment that smelled overwhelmingly like pumpkin spice (courtesy of a bubbly roommate that had a monthly subscription to white barn.). She closed the door, leading the way to her bedroom like it was second nature to bring a stranger into its cool clutches. She followed nervously.

She gasped when she saw the torn wedding dress, it almost made Aubrey’s heart swell. She had worked hard to make it look just distressed enough to pass as dead. Had even invested in paint in a sickly blue and grey shade that would really complete the look that Tim Burton had originally sculpted.

“Whoa, this is so cool-“ She glanced at her, eyebrows knit.

“Aubrey,”

“Emily.”

“Well, thank you, Emily. Halloween is kind of my thing.”

She nodded, taking in a gulp of air as she set down as she glanced around the small room. It was homey, if not a bit chilly from the window that was left propped open. Aubrey could almost smell the incoming of rain that Emily had mentioned so feverishly in her opening statement. Aubrey smiled at the woman’s awkward nature before she grasped the wedding dress. “You can change in here if you’d like. I’ll take the bathroom.”

“Okay,” She agreed, scratching the back of her neck as a few stray edges of hair fell from the bun on top of her head, framing her face as she managed a nervous smile.

Aubrey bowed out, pulling the wedding dress that she had found at a thrift store on ninth over herself, wiggling into it with enough gusto to break a sweat. She had taken more than enough time to squeeze the beaded top closer to her grasp, trying not to let it slip as she knocked back on her bedroom door, the unreachable zipper cold against her skin.

She got a weak response, pushing the door open as she got a good look at Emily. Her neighbor upstairs had folded the sweatpants and jacket easily against the corner of the dresser. She had let her hair down, the suit fitting her as smugly as Aubrey hoped it would. A bit of silver peaked from a vest and a back puffed ascot lay untied against the white shirt.

Aubrey’s color drained and the base of her stomach heated unexpectedly. She steadied herself against the doorframe, struggling to keep her dress up as Emily adjusted the collar of the blazer. A lopsided grin graced her lips. “This look okay? I need some help with this tie, though, I don’t really know how to fasten one. I only went to one girl scouts meeting and, yeah, didn’t’ pay much attention.”

“You look perfect,” Aubrey beamed, “Could you um, zip me up?”

Emily stared for a moment, almost mesmerized herself before letting out a squawk and propelling herself across the room where she moved the zipper easily up her back, fingers cold, but not nearly as frigid as the ruined clothes Aubrey peeled from herself earlier. She turned Emily’s touch not entirely dropping as she reached up and grasped the black ascot.

“How come I don’t see you around much?” Aubrey’s asked, trying to ignore the fact that Emily shivered under her touch, breath hot on her cheek.

“Oh, I’m what they call in introvert.” Emily chuckled, chest rumbling at her own joke. “Like I said, my plans were pretty much drowning my sorrows in snickers and turning out my porch light.”

Aubrey laughed, looping the fabric around as she secured it. Emily really did look like Victor, pale composure and all, her touch lingering, but never enough to warrant discomfort. The two of them standing there in innate silence.

“You know, Aubrey, usually I ask a girl on a first date before getting her into a wedding dress.”

“Is that so?” She asked, masking a smirk.

“Oh yeah, I’m a real Casanova too.” She beamed “Next time I’ll even bring my dog, his name is scraps. Though, he is a little boney.”

#Aubrey Posen #Emily Junk #Junksen #Fanfiction #request

45 notes · View notes

hanatagami · 6 years

Text

ＡＧｕａｒｄｉａｎＣｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｉｓＢｏｒｎ! (Ch. 1)

Opening his eyes, his ears were greeted with the loud chirping of an alarm clock. This being the source of his awakening, aggravated him slightly but he knew it was important. Uncovering himself from his bed, he moved his legs off the bed and into his slippers. Standing, he muffled a yawn and moved into his bathroom. Looking in the mirror he saw a young pale boy, with snow white hair ruffled from his tossing and turning. His eyes were a bright ruby red, contrasting well with his pale complexion. He started his morning routine, brushing his hair and teeth, putting on deodorant, and walked back into his room. Hung up on the closet was his school uniform.

“Good morning Haruto-kun.” Reo, his guardian character, greeted him. Reo was small, obviously, with messy white hair and red eyes. Headphones were adorned on his head, he had a white shirt, a white and purple coat with a purple bow at the collar. He had black shorts with purple frills over it, and white linings. His shoes were small boots that were white, black soles, and purple linings. “Good morning Reo, another new day.” His soft voice rang out, a little raspy from his sleep. Haruto undressed himself from his sleepwear, slipping on his school uniform afterwards. His uniform consisted of a white button up shirt, blue plaid shorts, calf length black socks, brown slip on shoes, a big, black cardigan, and a blue tie. “You say that, but you only do the same things over and over again! If you’d let me chara change you wouldn’t be so scared to do things.” Reo complained, crossing his arms and giving Haruto a pout.

“I’m trying not to stand out...It’s embarrassing…” He blushed, fiddling with his fingers. The thought of having a whole crowd staring at him terrified him! Since he was usually so quiet in nature, if he were to have a sudden outburst of energy...With a puff, his face turned to a bright red, “It’s too embarrassing!” “How are you supposed to be a voice actor if your afraid of socialising?! You have to actually talk to be a voice actor.” His chara criticized him, before helping help him straighten out his tie and collar. “Well that’s the good thing of being a voice actor, no one will look at me except a couple people. That’s why i’m not just being an actual actor.” He pouted. Reo retreated back into his egg with a sigh, and floated into Haruto’s bag. Haruto looked towards his desk, and took out an earring. It was an earring his mother gave him. It had four hearts in the shape of a four leaf clover. It was small enough to hide behind his hair, so thankfully nobody asked about it. Haruto walked downstairs, the smell of his mom's delicious breakfast wafting through the house. “Good morning Mom.” Haruto greeted his mom. His mother was a youthful looking woman, looking like she was in her twenties when she was actually in her forties. She had waist length white hair, and stunning sapphire eyes. “Good morning dear, can you make sure your sister is awake? You know her.” He hummed a sound of agreement before walking back upstairs. His sister has a habit of just turning off the alarm and getting up, but falling back asleep in the weirdest positions. He assumed it was from how energetic she was through the day. He knocked twice before entering, “Big sis? You awake?” He glanced around the room, his red eyes spotting her quickly. She was face first on the floor, snoring heavily. Her hair was messy and sprawled around her body. Her legs were positioned awkwardly. They were resting on the bed, keeping the lower half of her body raised.

‘I can assume she tried to literally drag herself out of bed…’ He walked over and poked her head with his foot. He got a grumble. He crouched down and turned her over and started lightly slapping her face. Her eyes opened slightly, gazing at her brother.

She gave a small yawn, leaning up and stretching along side it. “Good morning, Haruto…” Etsuko was an average height female who sported long thigh-length white hair, pale, skin and had the same ruby colored eyes as him. If he grew a bit taller, people could mistake them as twins. “You better hurry, Mom is almost finished making breakfast, and I won’t hesitate to steal your food Etsuko.” He joked, with a soft smile. Turning on his heel, he walked out of her room. He could hear her scrambling to get dressed. She was a little too passionate about food. Sitting down at the table, he could hear his mom giggling from all the ruckus Etsuko was making. Mom set a plate of sausage, eggs, and a slice of toast.

“Thanks for the food.” He dug into his moms food. It was delicious, per usual. She always made the best food, not that he would say. That’s too embarrassing… “Good morning!” Etsuko said and walked downstairs, wearing a black elbow length shirt, jeans, and black and white sleeveless cardigan. “Did Dad leave already?” Etsuko asked, plopping herself down in her chair.

“Yes, Yuuki has an important business meeting today.” Yuuki was Haruto’s dad. He was a short guy, barely standing at his wife's chest. He had blonde hair, tan skin, and red eyes. Haruto and Etsuko hardly looked anything like him, except for their eyes. People had a tendency to think he was their stepdad.

“You’re presenting you project to your class in college today, right Etsuko?” Their mother questioned, washing her hands at the sink. “Yep! I finished it just in time, all thanks to Haruto!” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in a hug while laughing haughtily. Etsuko wanted to be a fashion designer when she was older, and used Haruto as her model and mannequin.

He stood up abruptly, a small blush adorning his cheeks. “I’m gonna get going, I don’t want to be late.” He picked up his slice of toast, got his bag, slipped his shoes on and left.

~Time skip~

Walking through the school gates, he kept his eyes to the floor. He didn’t want to be noticed, thought it never really worked.

“Look there he is.”

“He’s so cute!” “He looks so frail and fragile, kinda like a doll.”

He blushed as he heard the whispers going around. This always happened. They always talked about him and his looks, but no one ever really tried to talk to him. It was like he was a doll in a glass case with a sign that said ‘Do Not Touch’.

But he wasn’t all that lonely. He had Reo after all.

*THUMP*

Haruto stumbled back.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured looking up. ‘Oh no.’ He had bumped into him. The Prince. His face paled, if even possible.

“No, it’s ok. Just try to watch out from now on, alright?” Hotori smiled, stunning the albino. Hotori actually sparkled. Almost blinded by Hotori’s dazzling face, he stammered out an “E-Excuse me.” Before speed walking towards his classroom. Hotori looked as the boy who scattered away, a worried look on his face.

“Jeez, you’re so embarrassing Haruto.” Reo complained, sitting on his partners head.

Haruto pouted slightly. “What do you expect, Hotori is the King of the guardians. One of the most popular guys in school, how could I not be nervous.” He whispered, so no one could hear him talking to himself.

He took his seat in last row second seat in the front, right in front of the infamous Hinamori. At first it scared him, but Hinamori didn’t really talk to anyone so she never said anything to him. She was probably too annoyed with his shy nature. Thinking about it made him depressed, sighing as he laid his in his arms.

“Did you hear how she stopped those bullies from taking money?”

“Yeah, I did! Hinamori-san’s so cool!”

“It’s like she’s in a class by herself.”

“It feels like you even have to approach her with caution.

“The way she wears her uniform is really cool, too.”

The other students continued to ramble on about how her mom was a famous journalist and her dad was a famous photographer, and about her older foreign boyfriend. He didn’t really believe them, he’s never heard of a Hinamori before her. If they were really that famous, people would already be talking about them.

The bell rings and the students get to their seats, a new day has started.

~Timeu Skipu~

Haruto walked into the school gates and was stopped by a huge crowd of screaming boys and girls. He already knew, The Guardians. “They’re all literally sparkling. Must be a guardian thing.” He mumbled to himself.

They all looked amazing, as usual.

“What’s going on?” Haruto turned his head and is met with Hinamori, frantically shoving something into her bag. It looked like...an egg. She started looking around frantically, holding the bag to her chest.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Before she could run off, Hotori grabbed her shoulder. Haruto looked on in anticipation with the crowd.

“Um you...Are you…” He began, but was cut off by Hinamori slapping his hand off her shoulder.

“Eh!?!’ Almost every shouted in shock.

“Would you mind not touching me like that, shrimp?” She asked, more like demanded, coldly.

“Oh, i’m sorry.” Is all Hotori said. ‘Who could blame him, everyone is shell shocked by that.’

Hinamori walked off, leaving basically half of the school there in shock.

“Hinamori is brave. I would never be able to do that, especially not to Hotori-san…” Haruto said before walking away.

“But Haruto-kun! That thing in her bag!” Reo said, poking his head out of the bag.

“That was definitely a dream egg.”

“You should talk to her!” Reo suggested floating out in the open.

“Are you kidding? She’d make fun of me, i’d probably annoy her. There's no way I could talk to her.” Haruto said, “Not get back in my bag, someone might see you!”

“With that attitude, you’ll never make any friends!” Reo stuck his tongue out, before floating back into bag.

“Hmmm, the shy kid has a shugo chara too? Alright!”

~Skip Time~

We will now begin the Fall Guardians’ Assembly. For our first order of business, I’d like to announce the results of the survey regarding school uniforms.”

‘Here comes another boring assembly. I wish I could of just stayed in the classroom.’ His eyes were wandering from guardian to guardian. He made eye contact. Kukai Souma, the Jack and one of the most popular guys at this school, was looking at him.

‘W-Why is he looking at me? Is there something on me? Is my tie crooked?’ Haruto started slowly playing with his uniform, as to not draw attention. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell me!’ face started turning red, looking up at Kukai who gave you a smirk and a wink.

His neck up to his ears turned completely red. ‘Kukai is too handsome for his own good!’

“Are you ok?” Someone next to him asked. He nodded and said, “I’m just feeling a little light headed.”

“You want me to take you to the nurse?”

“If you would.” The person next to him stuck up their hand, “I’m gonna take Kanade-kun to the nurse, he isn’t feeling well.” Hotori gave them a nod and you got up and they started leading you to the nurses office. “Anything else before we continue?” Hotori asked looking back to the crowd.

“I do! I’m sorry about what I said. The truth is, I like you, Prince!” Haruto looked in shock as Hinamori, the cool and spicy Amu Hinamori, confessed her love to someone she insulted that morning in front of the entire school population. Everyone stared in shock until, “We’re in the middle of an assembly, so please refrain from making unrelated comments. Also, I already like someone. I’m sorry.”

‘Oh my god. She just got rejected in front of the whole student body!’ Amu flew out of seat, and running out the door, bumping into you along the way.

“Ya know, I can go to the nurse myself. Thank you though.” He says before walking.

As soon as the closed he started chasing after her. Why? He didn’t know. What he did know is he couldn’t leave her like that.

He reached the school gates, panting heavily. Grasping his knees he looked to the side and saw her run into a construction site.

“H-Hinamori-san!” He stood back up and ran in after her.

Then he fell into a giant pit. “A-AH!” He shrieked as fell next to a girl, who shrieked in return.

“Ouch, what happened?” Haruto complained as he rubbed his head. He opened his eyes and lord and behold, Hinamori sat there with a shocked expression on her face.

“Kanade-kun? Did you...follow me?” Her eyes went wide and a small blush appeared on her face.

“Y-yeah, sorry if you didn’t want me too! It’s just, I don’t think I could leave someone alone when they were hurt so bad…” He looked down sheepishly.

Hinamori raised an eyebrow at his nervous stuttering, but let a small smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, we’re still kind stuck in a hole. Sorry, I shouldn’t have just ran blindly.” He apologized.

“G-geez don’t apologize! It’s not your fault.” She yelled, making him flinch back in fear.

“What are we gonna do?” She stood up, looking at the sky.

“Amu-chan!” She looked at you, “Did you say that?”

Haruto shook his violently and pointed at her bag. She looked and the a pink egg with a big heart on it popped out of her bag. It flew in the air right in front of Hinamori’s face and started cracking.

“W-what?”

*POP*

“What are you doing Amu-chan?!” A small girl with pink in a side pony, wearing a pink tennis dress, pink sneakers, and a pink visor hat with a big heart attached to it yelled.

“Let’s jump!”

“J-jump?”

“Character change: From a girl who can’t jump, to a girl who can!” Amu’s hair clip changed from it’s x to a heart, as wing accessories appeared on her hands and feet.

“Hop! Step! Jump!”

With those three words, Hinamori flew into the air, before safely landing on top of the in-construction-building.

“Reo, can you help me get out of this hole?” Haruto asked as his chara flew out of his bag.

“I sure can!”

“Whisper! Shout! Sing!” With those words, a choker with a crescent moon trinket appeared around his neck, along with two purple ribbons that resembled diamonds appeared in his hair.. Haruto took a deep breathe in, crouched down, and jumped. He flew out of the whole and landed safely on the ground. He looked up at Hinamori, who was now talking to some guy with cat ears and a tail.

“Hmm, it looks like he’s holding something. It looks like...Eggs!” Haruto shouted, his personality more outgoing and energetic due to the character change. Hinamori ran towards the strange boy, reaching out for the eggs. She got em, but she was currently falling from the building.

“Hinamori-san!” Haruto went to jump and catch her but stopped when he saw something rip from Ikuto’s hand to her, and caused a bright light to appear. Haruto looked to the side, watching as Hotori ran up next to him.

“Is…” Haruto said.

“That’s…” Hotori followed.

Hinamori landed to the ground and jumped back up, very high in the sky. She wore a pink crop top with ruffles at the bottom, a pink skirt with a red ribbon, two pink armbands, pink sneakers with pink leg warmers, a long red ribbon tied at her neck, and a visor hat with a large pink heart attached.

“Character Transformation!” Haruto and Hotori shouted.

“Amazing. She’s already progressed so far.” Hotori looked up in awe, as Hinamori flew down from the sky.

Before she untransformed and started plummeting to the floor.

“Reo, we should-”

“Holy Crown!” Hotori shouted a large yellow crown appeared from a staff he apparently summoned. Hinamori fell into it with a bounce. It faded away and she landed safely into the Prince’s arms.

‘Wait. The Prince.’ Haruto’s ribbons and choker disappeared as his face turned pink and he shuffled away from him.

‘I forgot! I’m supposed to be at the nurse’s office!’ Sweat appeared on his face as the cat boy from earlier landed on a blue bulldozer a little bit away from them.

“You again, little king?” The blue haired cat guy smirked, his tail wagging tauntingly.

“It’s against the rules to go after eggs right after they’re born!” Hotori yelled, setting Hinamori to the floor.

“Not to mention you tried to get your hands on the Humpty Lock. Tsukiyomi Ikuto!”

Hotori shouted to the now named Tsukiyomi.

“I think it’s your fault for leaving it there, nya!” Tsukiyomi’s shugo chara taunted.

“I won’t give you the Embryo!”

“Embryo?” Hinamori asked, looking at Hotori in confusion.

Tsukiyomi clenched his fist and raised it, a giant blue paw appearing. He swiped at us, but in the nick of time Hotori stepped in front of the two and shouted, “Holy Crown!”

The same golden crown from before appeared and absorbed the attack.

The winds from the attack caused Haruto to clench his eyes chut, only opening them when the winds died down.

“They’re gone.” Hinamori said.

“That was scary…” Haruto whimpered, stepping towards the two.

“He’s good at stirring up trouble. I guess he ran away.” Hotori turned around and gave the two of them a smile. He dug in his pockets and pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to Hinamori’s cheek with a charming smile.

“Are you guys okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” Haruto squinted as Hotori resumed to literally sparkle.

“I’m fine.” Hinamori said after a pregnant pause.

Hotori gave his handkerchief to Hinamori and turned to Haruto, “What about you? You were feeling sick earlier weren’t you? Do you want me to take you to the nurse?” Hotori laid his hand on Haruto’s shoulder, causing him to look down with a blush.

“I should be fine.”

“Hotori-kun, we need you back at the Guardians’ Assembly. Everyone’s waiting.” Fujisaki Nadeshiko had suddenly appeared, causing Haruto to flinch. Hotori nodded and looked at Hinamori, “You should go home for the rest of the day. See you.” Hotori started to walk, before stopping and turning to Haruto.

“Kanade-san, why don’t you come with us? We’ll walk you back to the assembly.”

“Oh, um, sure.” Haruto agreed before nervously walking next to Fujisaki.

“U-um.” Hinamori started, catching the attention of them.

“Um, t-this.” She pointed towards the lock at her chest. ‘It looks like…’ Haruto touched the earring on his right ear.

“Why don’t you hold on to it for now, Hinamori Amu-san. With that, you all walked away to leave Amu in her awed state.

“Oh, by the way Kanade-san where did you get that earring? It’s super cute!” Fujisaki complemented giving a smile to him.

“Oh, um, my mother gave it to me. She said she had gotten it from a friend, and wanted to give it to me as a birthday gift.” Haruto lifted his hair up a bit for them to see.

“It looks good on you.” Hotori complimented, and Fujisaki nodded her head along too.

“T-t-thank you very much…” WIth a red face, he looked down. The two of them laughed, “Well we’ll see you sometime soon Kanade-san.”

The walked back in the stadium, leaving him standing there red faced.

“You’re so lame, Haruto-kun.” Reo slightly annoyed at being ignored, insulted.

“H-hey, shut up!” Haruto shouted at his chara who just snickered and flew into his egg.

‘Today was kind of a good day. I wonder, could I call those three my...friends?’

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

I hope you liked it! So, i'm not very good at dedicating myself but i'll try to get chapters out weekly?

I LOVE Shugo Chara. It was my childhood, I remember coming from school and immediately sitting down and watching it on my computer nonstop. It sucks not being able to find a lot of fanfiction about, so I thought i'd make one of my own.

#shugo chara #fanfiction #lgbt #oc

1 note · View note

poiregourmande · 6 years

Note

Ben / his tattoo artist

(this was requested by Husband so I took the liberty of making the tattoo artist Evan)

(you can find Bevan interactions here - they are extremely shippabble: X & X)

Ben is nervous as hell as he walks in the tattoo parlor. The first time he got a tattoo was a drunken mistake, so he doesn’t much remember it. He never thought he’d ever have tattoos – he’s scared of needles, but he needs to coverup that first one, so here he is.

He walks up to the front desk, nervously looking around. The place is hipstery, but cozy, lots of wood and leather and plants, nothing in common with the dark hole-in-the-wall where he first went.

He rings the bell on the counter, looking at the art on the walls while he waits. You can see a certain cohesion between the pieces – they were all made by the same artist, obviously. They look like watercolor, with a lot of flowers and geometric shapes. Ben is really into it and he makes a mental note to thank his friend Steven who suggested the place.

A red and black plaid curtain behind the counter is pushed aside and out comes the most gorgeous man Ben has ever set his eyes on.

Tall, with broad, drool-worthy shoulders and a tiny waist, with the arms of a guy who obviously goes to the gym a lot. He’s dressed in a tight black button-down that makes his biceps just bulge out and actual suspenders and a bow tie – his arms are covered in tattoos, which make the whole outfit seem cool rather than nerdy.

[the rest under a cut because it failed to be a drabble - it’s 1.5k]

“What’s up, man, I’m Evan,” the man says and Ben is so busy staring at his tattoos he almost forgets to answer.

“Um – I’m Ben. Hi.”

“Is this your first tattoo?” Evan eyes his bare arms and fidgety demeanor.

“A coverup, actually.” Ben rolls up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal, at the very top of his bicep, a small hand giving the middle finger and the words F U REBECCA.

“I was drunk and recently dumped,” he mumbles, steeling himself for the upcoming judgemental look.

Evan scoffs and shakes his head, but not at Ben. “Tattoo artists willing to work on someone drunk disgust me. They’re in it strictly for the money and they don’t care about the craft.”

A warmth spreads through Ben’s chest – Evan looks offended on his behalf, and the feeling of someone caring for him after months alone is making him dizzy.

Evan pulls a pad and a pen, guides him to a corner with a table and chairs. He quickly doodles Ben’s existent tattoo. “Do you have an idea of what you want?”

Ben shrugs. “I guess I don’t really know how tattoo works? Especially coverups? Like what can you do?”

“I can either incorporate these lines into something else so they become invisible, or cover it with a dark patch we’d work into the design. This would likely be more painful because we’d have a lot of filling in to do.”

Ben nods. “I’m a bit… afraid of needles? So the less pain the better.”

Evan nods, already deep in thought. He asks Ben a few questions about what he likes, how his childhood was, and for a while it almost feels like a date – like they’re getting to know each other. Evan listens intently, sometimes doodling an idea – he seems genuinely interested and it makes Ben blush.

After a while, Evan turns away to hide the pad from Ben and keeps drawing, grabbing color pencils from a nearby shelf.

“What do you think?” he asks at last, pushing the pad across the table.

Ben is speechless. Evan has drawn a tall pine tree, half in color and half in black geometric lines. The drawing immediately conjures up memories of Ben’s Gramps.

He’d told Evan how Ben’s grandfather had build their childhood home and planted a pine tree, but it got sick and they had to cut it down around the time of Gramps death.

The idea of having the tree, of having his Gramps live on his arm forever makes Ben’s eyes well up.

“Man…” His throat closes around the word and he can’t say anything else.

Evan smiles, and it’s soft and beautiful and Ben should maybe stop feeling everything so much.

“You like it? This part would be in a watercolor effect, I couldn’t fully convey it in pencil.” He points at the colored part. “And these lines right here, that’s where we hide the former tattoo.”

The previous tattoo completely disappears through the geometric lines. Ben’s impressed and he can’t wait to get Evan’s art etched in his skin forever.

“So listen,” Evan says, and Ben manages to tear his gaze from the pad to listen to him. “The whole afternoon is booked, but I can squeeze you in tomorrow at four. Does that work for you?”

Ben’s mind stumble over the words “squeeze you” and he feels his cheeks and neck heat up. He’s a bit disappointed not to leave the place with a tattoo, but he’s excited to have a reason to see Evan again.

“Tomorrow it is, then!” he says cheerfully.

It feels weird to just leave like that because it seems like they’ve gotten to know each other so much over the past hour, but like, a handshake is too formal, a hug too friendly, a kiss on the cheek – although Ben would absolutely love that – too romantic. So he just stares at Evan a bit too long, pats him on the shoulder and feels the most awkward he’s ever felt in his life.

“See ya,” he says, but he can’t seem to move his feet.

“Can’t wait,” Evan answers and Ben’s brain goes into overdrive.

Does he mean that? Is he just being nice? Is it just a phrase?

Great, now Ben is just standing still in the tattoo parlor and Evan’s smirks, amused.

“Okay, bye,” Ben says, finally managing to move his feet.

“Bye.” Evan seems like he’s trying hard not to laugh and Ben walks out, half cursing himself and half daydreaming about Evan’s smile.

Ben spends the next day in a frantic daze – unable to focus on anything for longer than 3 minutes. He ends up scrubbing his entire kitchen – it was the only task that allowed him to think about Evan as much as he wanted.

He changes his whole outfit three times before being satisfied, muttering “It’s not a date, get a grip” with clenched teeth the whole time.

He gets to the tattoo parlor almost a half hour too early, even though he does a double take in front of a flower shop – “it’s not a date,” he repeats through gritted teeth.

He finally goes to get coffee at the Crimson, the coffee shop across the street, to while away the last half hour and calm down, when an idea strikes him.

“Hey, you wouldn’t know Evan, by any chance?”

“Tattoo guy? Yeah he’s a regular.”

“Do you know his coffee order?”

“Venti soy mocha.”

“I’ll take one of those, too, then.” It’s not a date, his brain pipes up.

Is it Ben’s imagination or does Evan’s face lights up as he walks in?

It’s not a date.

You’re reaching.

Ben does his best not to pay attention to the nagging voice as he hands the coffee to Evan.

“Hey, uh, this is for you.”

Evan grins. “Thanks man!” He takes a sip. “Soy mocha? How did you know?”

Ben shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

Evan guides to the next room, points at the chair.

“Well, then, let’s see that shoulder, shall we?”

Ben looks down at his clothes and curses himself. He’d been so nervous about what to wear he completely forgot his shoulder needed to be accessible – he’s wearing a dark blue button down with rolled-up sleeves. He’s going to need to take it off completely and Evan will think he planned the whole thing so he’d be shirtless.

“I should have worn short sleeves,” Ben chuckles awkwardly, feeling Evan’s gaze on him as his fingers stutter over the buttons.

“It’s okay, man. I mean I’ve tattooed butts before, it’s nothing I haven’t seen already.”

Of course, his dick of a brain chooses to focus on the idea of Evan tattooing his butt one day.

He timidly shrugs off his shirt, self-consciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other while twisting his shirt in his hands, unsure what to do with it.

“Do you want me to…?” Evan holds out his hand, pointing at his shirt.

“Oh, sure, thanks.”

Their hands meet through the fabric and a chill goes up Ben’s spine – he hopes he doesn’t get goosebumps because there’s no way Evan wouldn’t see it.

Evan sets the shirt on a coat hanger and gathers up his supplies while Ben takes place on the chair.

The nervousness from being half naked next to Evan quickly gives way to a nervousness about the actual tattooing, now that he sees Evan’s supplies.

After the stencil transfer is done, however, and he can see Gramps’ tree on his arm, he can feel his doubts melt away. Yeah, it might hurt like a bitch, but damn if it won’t be worth it.

At first it really does hurt, but after a while the pain kind of dulls away and he’s left with the very acute awareness off Evan’s hand hovering next to his bicep, of the feel of his fingers when he’s dabbing at the ink, even through the pad and the latex gloves.

Ben starts chatting away, trying to distract his brain from these thoughts, at least until the tattoo is done. “I can’t wait to see it, man, it’s gonna look so good; you know, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would; I like to think if Gramps saw it he’d think you’re doing a pretty good job with his tree…” He goes on and on and doesn’t realize he’s doing it until he sees Evan cracks a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just – you talk a lot, don’t you?”

Ben feels his cheeks heating up. “I get that a lot. Sorry – I’ll shut up now.”

“No! I mean – you don’t have to. I kinda like it actually. It’s cute.”

Ben’s cheeks are actual fires by now.

“That’s cute too – you turning red.” Evan has an amused grin on his face and Ben suddenly realizes he’s not tattooing anymore. He looks over at his shoulder.

“Is it done?”

“What? Oh, yeah I finished like ten minutes ago. I just wanted you to keep talking.” It’s Evan’s turn to look flustered.

“How about I keep talking over a beer?”

“I’d like that,” Evan says, his voice all breathy, and suddenly he’s right there in front of Ben.

Ben doesn’t think about it – he just got a tattoo, he can handle anything – and kisses Evan, hard and wet and a little desperate, but Evan’s smiling against his lips and he knows he’s into it.

Behind Evan’s head there’s a mirror and Ben can see the final result.

“Wow,” he says.

“Yeah,” Evan breathes out, resting their foreheads together, chest heaving.

“I meant the tattoo.”

send me ANY two buzzfeed people and i’ll write you a drabble!

#bevan #ben coleman #evan ghang #buzzfeed worth it #buzzfeed drabbles challenge #writing prompts #finn street

14 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs