#// CERTIFIED MOM STOP THAT IS HER

[wendyfulmother]

Who would you be on a pirate crew?

The Boatswain

Certified Mom™ of the ship, it's your duty to lead shore parties to restock supplies (compile the grocery list), make sure the ship is in good shape (whole lot of responsibility), oversee actions such as weighing the anchor, setting sails, swabbing the deck (control if and how the crew's chores are done) and so on. You're worn out and tired most of the time but ultimately know how important your work is to the crew; you're the ship's backbone after all. That's maybe the reason for your dead-set loyalty to the crew, and even more so, to your captain, who you would gladly die for if the situation happened to require it.

Stole this from @peculiarbeauty cuz it looked like fun! :D

Tagging: Anyone whose watched a P.irate movie

[ninthprime]

now that hxh is officially coming back here's my attempt to count how many plots are going on at once right now

a plot: the kakin royal family, joined by beyond netero, has chartered an expedition to the forbidden dark continent on a huge whale ship with thousands of civilians. the hunter association signed on to join with the plan of actually sending the ship to a fake “new continent”, dropping off the family and civilians there, and then continuing to the real continent. the problem is the king of kakin is also using this expedition to force his fourteen (legitimate) children into a death match, with the survivor as heir

b plot: kurapika has discovered that kakin’s fourth prince tserriednich is in possession of the remaining scarlet eyes and, in order to get close to him, has signed on as a bodyguard to the fourteenth prince, baby woble, and her mom queen oito. as it turns out all the princes have autonomous nen beasts so this is a more complicated job than it looks. by which i mean at one point he gave up a substantial part of his life to possess a cockroach

c plot: to get more specific, kurapika has been trying to keep the peace by inviting the servants and bodyguards of the other princes to come to nen classes taught by him (read: he and fellow bodyguard bill are just forcibly opening their nen abilities), but a mysterious nen construct called “silent majority” killed most of woble’s other servants and now keeps killing people in the classes. there are apparently multiple people who can use nen in the classes already and who are mostly not telling him.

d plot: the three big mafia families of kakin (the hei-ly, xi-yu and cha-r) have been invited onto the ship mostly because their leaders are all illegitimately related to the king and been told to not cause any trouble…but the king’s illegitimate daughter morena, the new leader of the hei-ly and certified #gamergirl, actively wants to the destroy the world and is breaking the peace by spreading nen to her followers using her ability and letting them gain “levels” by killing people on the ship.

e plot: the phantom troupe has shown up knowing that hisoka will have followed them here and are trying to track him down and kill him. they’ve split into groups and the only group we’ve followed- phinks, feitan and nobunaga- have teamed up with the xi-yu and cha-r to deal with both hisoka and morena. during this we get an extended flashback about how the phantom troupe used to be tween anime dubbers and originally became criminals to track down those who killed their friend.

f plot: unbeknownst to the phantom troupe, the xi-yu’s underboss hinrigh has already met with hisoka (or at least someone who looks a lot like him) and given him a passage to the top level, where the royal family is, because the mafia knows a fight against hisoka will be more trouble than it’s worth while also trying to stop morena. in other words: hisoka is going to where kurapika is

g plot: tserriednich, the previously mentioned guy with the eyes, is also a misogynist serial killer and has gotten interested in nen, so his bodyguard theta has decided to teach him nen herself in order to slow him down and potentially stop him. unfortunately he’s a nen genius and has already developed an ability that lets him see into the future and overwrite reality by reacting accordingly, which he used to get out of theta shooting him. his nen beast has now marked theta for lying to him twice and will make her “no longer human” if she lies a third time.

h plot: melody, hired to be here by kurapika, attempted to sneak the teenage twin tenth and eleven princes off the ship only for the tenth prince (and the other hunter she was working with) to be killed, revealing the princes cannot leave the ship. thankfully the tenth prince kacho’s nen beast is basically her ghost. melody is now likely going to have to deal with an investigation into her actions and has also noticed that eleventh prince fugetsu is rapidly having her nen depleted. kaiser, a member of the justice bureau, claims to have fallen in love with melody after she performed her music for the ship and intends to help her, but melody doesn’t trust him and thinks he’s using manipulation nen on himself. oh and a large amount of the princes have invited her to perform for them, including tserriednich.

i plot: first prince benjamin, a nen user, has control of the military and has used his customary status as firstborn to send one of his guards to each of his younger siblings, which in at least one case led to a successful kill (the eighth prince). he’s in lockdown currently however because second prince camilla, also a nen user with an extremely powerful ability that seems to prevent her from being killed, attempted to kill him herself, and the justice bureau on the ship is trying to figure out who started what.

j plot: camilla has a group of ultra-loyal guards from the lower caste who have developed nen curses to kill her siblings in exchange for their own deaths. their captain, sarahell, has been developing a curse on woble and intends to attend kurapika’s class to deploy it.

k plot: ninth prince halkenburg, a baby marxist who progressive civilians and the younger princes both see as a potential savior, tried to kill his father and then himself after the first death in the succession battle and got stopped by nen beasts both times. he has responded to this by going apeshit and developing an ability that appears to allow him to put the souls of his guards into other people. his testing of this involved having one of his men shoot himself while in the body of one of benjamin’s men, so benjamin has him arrested now too.

l plot: third prince zhang-li’s nen beast is dispensing mysterious coins and zhang-li is dispensing said coins amongst his guards as well as to melody, whose performance he liked. zhang-li also appears to be hiding that he’s actually the son of the king’s illegitimate half-brother onior, the head of the xi-yu, who he’s asked to look into the last succession battle.

m plot: hanzo and bisky, also hired to be here by kurapika, were working as bodyguards for the twelfth and thirteenth princes until the twelfth prince was the first death of the war. the kindergarten-aged thirteenth prince’s stress in response to his sister dying now appears to have led his nen beast to trap their group in some sort of reality bubble. bisky had to reveal her battle form to head servant vergei to explain nen and what was happening, which has mostly just led to vergei getting a mad crush on her.

n plot: izunavi and basho are also here on kurapika’s behest guarding the sixth and seventh princes, who both have not done much yet; sixth prince tyson has a mysterious religious creed that izunavi has convinced her to pass onto her father and seventh prince luzurus mostly likes to smoke weed everyday but seems surprisingly perceptive and, more importantly, apparently funds the cha-r.

o plot: despite being a deranged maniac, tserriednich has a group of childhood friends working fairly standard military guard positions on the lower floors; they’re trying to find out more about nen after picking up that the hei-ly, which tserriednich was allied with before morena took over, are using it.

p plot: fifth prince tubeppa, aware she has few allies and little knowledge of nen, has been trying to meet with kurapika for a while. the literal last thing teased before this hiatus was her bodyguard longhi revealing to kurapika that she knows nen and kurapika agreeing to meet with tubeppa.

q plot: the rest of the phantom troupe has split off: machi and franklin are both on their own (but nobunaga wants to go get franklin), chrollo is making a plan with shizuku and bonolenov that appears to involve a disguise ability bono has, and illumi joined the troupe on hisoka’s request so they could have a yaoi death battle and is with kalluto. speaking of which:

r plot: mizai ran into illumi and kalluto and has them staying in a room in the quarters the zodiacs are using. he’s currently trying to figure out whether he should be telling kurapika the troupe is on the ship or not, knowing it could risk the well-being of both woble and kurapika himself. (he also secretly gave melody clearance to try to save the twins.)

s plot: beyond netero is still in lock up and being watched by members of the zodiacs. he hasn’t done anything yet, but it has been implied he’ll try to escape at the fake “dark continent.”

t plot: ging and pariston have a group allied with beyond who are going to the dark continent themselves; ging joined because he knows pariston must be up to something. it remains ambiguous whether they have their own boat or are on the whale somewhere.

u plot: leorio and cheadle are working at an understaffed clinic near the zodiac headquarters, meaning that once again Leorio Is Just Offscreen

v plot: a random member of the cha-r is trying to get the autographs of the phantom troupe members. this has been used to dispense plot info about how far we are from being out of contact with land. pray for his success

TOTAL PLOTS COUNT: 22

[moonmunson]

pas de deux

to the anon that requested this, i know this isn't exactly what you asked for, but inspiration struck. i hope you like it.

cw: wally certified yearner and loverboy, me not knowing how to describe dancing, allusions to reader being murdered in a very traumatic way by her dance partner but no specifics, sfw

wc: 3k

Wally knows that what he’s attempting to do is misguided at best, and probably disastrous at worst. 

The idea came to him a few weeks ago. He’d been sitting with Charley and Rhonda, shooting the shit in the gymnasium before their meeting with Mr. Martin, when he’d asked, “Is it possible to break a ghost out of their loop?” 

To Charley’s credit, he’d attempted to take the question seriously. Rhonda had just rolled her eyes, removing the ever present lollipop from her mouth before interrupting.

“Again with this? Come on, loverboy. Not gonna happen.” 

Charley sighed, tutting at Rhonda before turning back to Wally, a sympathetic look on his face, “There’s always a chance it could work, but if you’re talking about who we think you’re talking about, I’d say they’re pretty slim.” 

“More than slim, I’d say,” Rhonda butts in again, “I’m surprised she hasn’t worn a hole through the floor, with the way she dances. Like a ballerina in a music box.” She spins her lollipop through the air, follows it with her eyes before shoving it back into her mouth. 

“Have I ever told you your attitude is annoying?” Wally asked, sinking back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the scoff from Rhonda’s direction, “I’m just saying. We’ve never even tried. What if she’s like, aware in there, like in her mind.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair - a nervous tick he hadn’t lost, even in death. 

“Does it matter? She’s still stuck here like the rest of us. Better to spend eternity dancing than dealing with the banalities of high school.” 

Mr. Martin walked in then, effectively ending the conversation. Through the whole meeting, Wally couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d seen you in the auditorium before, looping over and over, stuck in an endless dance for two but lacking a partner. It’s a rare thing for a ghost to act the way you do - there haven’t really been any other deaths at the school that were traumatic enough to warrant a loop like yours, and he’d been determined to break you out of it. Screw Rhonda, he’d thought. He could do it, he just needed to figure out how. 

The problem was, Wally knew nothing about dancing. He's not the smartest guy. He knows that, but he’d been brainstorming different ways to break you out of your loop for a while now, with nothing to show for it. It’d been grating heavily on his nerves.

In a moment he’d regrettably look back on, he’d gone so far as to join you on stage to attempt a fake out. When he’d lunged at you, and you hadn’t even blinked in his direction, he started to think Rhonda was right. You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t hear him. You were stuck up there, doomed to spin around the stage for God knows how long and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Then one day, something really fucking weird had happened. 

—

He’d taken to sitting in the audience, to watch you dance. It was weird, more than a little morbid and slightly obsessive, but watching you move was captivating to him. 

He found some similarities between dancing and playing football - the finesse needed to dodge and weave through people trying to tackle him was one thing - but he’d never seen anyone move the way you do. Every move you made had purpose. The lines created by your arms and legs, the softness with which you carried yourself from one end of the stage to the other. 

Preoccupied with the pressures his mom applied to him, the weight of the world on his shoulders, he’d never taken an interest in dancing, other than the awkward slow side to side swaying he’d done with his Junior year girlfriend at the prom. Now, he wishes he could dance with you - wishes you could teach him to move like you do. 

You’re stuck there, like a spinning top that refuses to fall - unable to fall. Except, as he was watching you, something unthinkable happened. 

You were looking at him. Like, looking straight at him. 

It took him more than a few seconds to realize what was happening, and even then he couldn’t believe it. Charley had talked to him about dancers having a spot to look at when they’re spinning - how it keeps them from falling over, keeps them from becoming dizzy and messing up. Was it possible Wally just happened to be in the seat you used as a spot? 

He couldn’t tell if there was recognition in your eyes, if you were really looking at him or seeing right through him, the way a living person would. But your gaze was fixated on him either way. And your face, it… you just looked so sad. If he didn’t know better, Wally would’ve thought your expression was pleading, looking for help. It only lasted a few seconds, before you turned your head in a different direction and your body followed. It sent him reeling. 

He found Charley and Rhonda in the library, and told them what happened. Charley sat up in his chair, struggling to understand what he meant. 

“What do you mean she looked at you?” 

Wally went to explain it to them again, hoping they’d believe this was out of the norm, “I mean she looked at me, dude. She was up there spinning like she always is, and I was just sitting there watching -” 

“You were watching her? Voyeurism doesn’t suit you, loverboy.” Rhonda’s arms were crossed over her chest, legs folded over each other - closed off, like she always is. 

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Wally sighed, exasperated, “It was weird. At first I thought she was using me to spot, while she was twirling, but the way her face looked? I don’t know, dude. It was just weird.” 

“There’s a chance she was looking at you, don’t you think? We don’t really know how looping works, so,” Charley’s endless kindness is a relief to Wally - especially when he says things like, “I think it’s good, what you’re doing. I wish we could help more.” Charley looks over in Rhonda’s direction, nudging her to say something to Wally. 

“Yeah. As much as I give you flack for it, your whole -” Rhonda waves a hand in Wally’s general direction, “boy savior thing, I do wish there was something we could do for her. It sucks. Not having a partner to dance with.” There was a glint of remorse in Rhonda’s eye, more than Wally ever thought he’d see from her. 

A spark lights up in Wally’s head, a hidden spotlight finding its mark onstage  - landing on you, your flawless form.

“Do you think if I dance with her, that it could break the loop?” Wally asks, looking back and forth between his two friends. 

“It’s definitely worth a shot,” Charley shrugs, gaze turning to his left, “Rhonda? What do you think?” 

The beatnik pauses for a second, long enough for them to see the cogs turning in her brain. 

“Look, I’m not saying it’ll work. Probably won’t. But maybe,” Wally starts to smile, “Just maybe, if you try to connect with her on her terms, instead of trying to force some logic onto the situation, something might change.” 

“I don’t know how to dance, though. I don’t even know where to start.” Wally drops his head in his hands, shoulders hunched over. Charley reaches over, splays a hand on Wally’s back and rubs back and forth. 

“Think of it like football maybe? You’ve got your plays, right?” Wally nods, sitting up and urging Charley to continue, “Those are like the steps. Formations could be the positions you take, and in dancing, timing is everything. The same way it is in football, at least from what I’ve gathered of the rants you go on. Rhonda’s right. Maybe if you learn how she moves, you can try communicating with her that way.” 

Wally sits up, throwing his arms around his two friends, ignoring Rhonda attempting to push him away before jumping up from his spot on the couch. He nearly trips over himself to sprint out of the room and down the hall, towards the auditorium, shouting “Thank you!” behind him. 

—

Wally stood in the echoing auditorium, the stage lights illuminating the otherwise dark room. Every day for the past week, he’d come to you - trying to decipher a language he did not speak. He watched you, trapped in your endless pas de deux. Gliding through the same steps, turns, your desperate yearning clear up close. 

At first, he’d just tried to mimic you. Clumsy and tripping over his own feet, he’d stumbled through the basic positions, frustrated with himself. His movements were jerky and awkward, a stark contrast to your effortless grace. He felt silly - like a hulking figure trying to copy something delicate and precise, something that took years and years of training. 

Slowly, things started to shift. He stopped just watching and copying, instead starting to feel the music that wasn’t there. He began to understand the reasoning behind your movements, the emotions they expressed. He started to see the gaps in your performance, the place where someone was supposed to fit, to complete the cycle you’d been stuck in. 

He started to see the places where he could fit. 

He wasn’t just mirroring anymore, he was learning the language. Each day he got a little closer, a little less clumsy, a little more in tune with the phantom rhythm that filled the empty auditorium. He was still a football player, and he always would be, but he was learning to use some of that training to become a dancer, too. For you. 

Wally knew this might not even work. He’d been in his head about it for a week at this point, and not even Charley or Rhonda could break him out of the loop he’d pulled himself into. He stopped going to the life support meetings in the gymnasium, much to Mr. Martin’s dismay - instead going to spend all of his free time right there next to you onstage. 

He put more effort into practicing for this than he ever did for one of his football games, a feeling of true purpose guiding his every movement. 

When the day finally came, Wally felt calm. He felt ready. 

He walked onto the stage, ready to put his rehearsing to the test. Ready to run the play, to score the winning point. You began your routine, perfect and meticulous and haunting as ever. This time, though, Wally didn’t just watch. He joined you. 

He didn’t try to lead, didn’t try to impose himself or change your dance, he simply became your partner. He matched your movements as best as he could, trying to feel his way through the dance. Trying not to be too robotic, but instead trying to move with the same empathy and yearning that he’d watched you dance with over and over. 

As you reached the point in your dance where your partner should have joined, Wally was there. He wasn’t a perfect dancer, not by any metric, but he was present. He was the missing piece. 

As your movements intertwined, a visible shift occurred. You, you who had been trapped in this endless cycle of longing, suddenly seemed to notice him. Your eyes, usually fixated on some distant point, flickered - focusing on Wally for the first time. Genuinely seeing him. Your eyes filled with tears, and as one of them dropped onto your cheek, Wally went to wipe it away. 

The music, which up until this point had only been an idea in Wally’s head, suddenly seemed to fill the auditorium, bouncing off of the walls and echoing around the two of you. Your dance became a true pas de deux, a conversation of movement and emotion. 

As the music started to slow, Wally found himself on unsure footing. He hadn’t stopped to think before about how the dance was supposed to end, but it didn’t matter. Grasping his hands in your own, taking the lead and guiding him through the end, the two of you moved in perfect harmony. Spectral echoes of each other, gazes connected and satisfaction blooming. 

The yearning in your movements softened, replaced by a sense of completion. The music faded, leaving the two of you in silence. For half a second, Wally thought you’d cross over, leaving him onstage by himself. Instead, you turned to him, a small smile gracing your lips. You didn’t fade. You were still there - as solid as he was. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, “You helped me finish.” 

Wally stood stock still, surprise still echoed on his features. He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. You looked around the empty auditorium, eyes tracking over the seats before landing on him again, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to finish that dance.” 

“I’m glad I could help you,” Wally stutters out, a pink flush on his face, “I know I’m not the best dancer.” You laugh, a sweet, girlish thing. In the five minutes that had passed since the dance finished, Wally swore he could see the weight being lifted from your chest. 

“You were perfect.” A flicker of sadness crossed your face, quickly replaced by gentle acceptance, “I… I don’t think I’m going anywhere, I’m still here, but…” you emphasized, palms open and gesturing to the stage around you, “but, I think it’s different now. I’m not stuck anymore.” 

“That’s good!” Wally’s face lit up, empathetic and gleeful. 

Your own smile brightened, affected by his sheer amount of happiness for you. You took his hand, solid and steady in yours. 

“What do I do now?” you asked, eyebrows turned up and inward, “Do ghosts sleep? I feel like I need to sleep for a month.” 

Wally giggled, leading you down the side stage steps and down the rows of seats, out of the auditorium, “We don’t need to sleep, but you can if you want to. You want me to show you my hiding space?” You nod, following him down the hallway.

When he passes the teacher’s lounge, and Charley and Rhonda see whose hand he has grasped in his, he winks at their shocked expressions before continuing down the stretch of linoleum and lockers. 

—

Life - or, afterlife, you suppose - has been weird since Wally broke you out of your loop. The first couple of days were extremely rough, spent trying to understand just how long you’d been up on that stage. A new member of Mr. Martin’s life support group, everyone has been extremely welcoming to you. 

Because ghosts don’t need to sleep, you haven't experienced any nightmares, something you’re exceedingly grateful for. Even so, you wake up from your naps feeling uneasy. Flashes of the end of your life playing in your mind, reminding you of the circumstances surrounding your death. 

You’re not ready to talk to the group about it, but Wally hasn’t left your side since he’d woken you from your reverie. You tell him about it in bits and pieces - about your dance partner, a shy, kind boy, turned cold blooded killer. The specifics of it don’t matter anyways. He can’t hurt you anymore, and according to the computers in the library, he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore -  following you into that good night soon after the police had taken him away. 

You learn that your family moved out of Wisconsin a decade ago, in an attempt to escape the media following them around and shouting questions at them, about a court case that didn’t happen because there was nobody to put on trial. You hope wherever they were, that they found some semblance of peace. 

Wally has been an incredible influence on you, and after settling into what the rest of your eternity might look like, you’ve had the same effect on him. He didn’t expect you to dance again any time soon, if ever, but he’d catch you by yourself sometimes - stretching your legs, sitting on the floor with your arms poised in that certain way. 

Then, after a year spent together going to meetings and finding hidden corners in the school to make out like true teenagers, he’d found you in Split River High’s newly minted dance room - sock covered feet gliding over the lacquered floor, hope and joy baked into your movements instead of the grief and melancholy he’d become so accustomed to in your previous routine.  

Out of the corner of your eye, when you’d seen him peeking through the window, you’d beckoned him in to join you. You started to truly teach him how to dance - guiding him through Pliés and Relevés and giggling at him when his lanky legs got in his own way. 

“You’d be better at this if you were shorter, I think,” you’d said, a smile unable to hide taking over your face, “but you look pretty good.” 

“Pretty good? These legs saved you, babe,” Wally scoffed, wiggling his toes to get you to laugh.  He always succeeded in that. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” you walked over to stand nearer to him, eyes angled upward to meet his honey brown ones, “the prince to my sleeping beauty, how could I forget?” 

“Damn straight, I’m your prince,” Wally’s warm hands grasped your cheeks, his mouth lowering to meet yours for a few seconds before gently shoving you away, “now show me how to do that thing again? I think I’m finally getting it.” 

—

Rhonda would never admit it, but she’d been especially proud of the effort Wally had put in to drag you from your loop. She knows everyone thinks she’s cold hearted, and she agrees to a certain extent, but she’d known the agony Wally felt when he thought he couldn’t help you. She’d never tell anyone this, either, but she’d snuck into the auditorium the night that he’d broken your loop - woken you up from your neverending nightmare. She’d stood alone, in the back and out of view, a smile etched on her features.

“You go, loverboy.”

a/n: tysm for this request! this was honestly the most fun i've ever had writing something. the inspiration was crazy and even though i know nothing about dancing i hope this is readable and easy to follow because i'm immensely proud of it. anon if you liked it pls lmk! I'm having such a fun time writing for wally so PLS send in any requests you have!!!

also, don't forget to like and reblog!

[sanzaibian]

Hiii! Im a scrawny white guy that just moved out into a new neibourhood that is strangely filled with fuckboys and my parents want me to cut my long curly hair to fit in. They want me to have a buzz cut or an undercut. Do you know someone who can help me?

“Welcome to the normal barbershop ! I… see you’re accompanied.”

Indeed, when you enter, the severe face of your mother is revealed behind your shoulder. She seems dead set on having a say in whatever you’re going to do, no matter how uncomfortable you look. You know that, as you’re a few years into university, you should really, like all your friends find yourself flat or flatmates, yet the only ones who would qualify are all related by blood. However, with the sky-high price for property, inflation eating into everyone’s pockets, and uni being just an hour away from home… the choice is obvious.

Even if it feels a bit constraining to have your quite controlling parents breathing down your neck.

“I…” You start, before being cut by your mother. - My son here needs an appropriate haircut. This… clump he caries around has to go.”

It is clear for everyone in the room that she wants you to have a haircut, not you… and that she seems dead set on you cozying up to the upper echelons of society. Not an objectionable dream, but not one she should force onto her kid. This malaise that grows out of it is broken by the arrival of a tall but thin guy, dressed in all white polos and chinos, wearing an expensive golden watch, luxurious black sunglasses and a single stylish golden earring. His jet black hair is parted in the middle in a tasteful style stinking of money – and hairspray – accompanying slightly folded amber eyes that frame a very handsome face.

“Greetings, miss.” He announced rather dramatically, smiling in a manner that would swoon anybody. “Don’t worry, I, Jonathan Nasukawa, heir to the famous Shimotsuke family, from the Uesugi clan, and to the de Clissons family, who studied under the famous master barber Dr. Davod, will take care of your son. I’ll make sure he’s… up to my standards.”

You are not impressed. In fact, you’re more weary of whatever bullying he may decide to make about your lack of self-care, or your lower social class… but your mother is comfortably taken by the smile of that certified ikemen. Her severe expression morphs into one of the most benevolent smiles that a human can make, and pushes you to him by your shoulders.

“My son will be more than honored to be able to be helped by all your expertise. I’m sure that, once he knows how to properly act, he will thank you for the immense service you are giving him.”

The ikemen’s smile becomes sinister, somehow… though your mother stays just as smitten by his through the roof charisma.

“Rest assured, he will.” His smiles becomes normal once again, as he places a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you may, I have some work to do. - Well, I wouldn’t want to prevent you from doing your job… I just so happen to have a few things to buy, so I’ll get to this now !”

As the exchange devolves into civilities, you start advancing to the barber chairs, where you guess your mane that you actually really like is going to get chopped off. What a waste, you love the feeling of long hair, how it floats, how freely you can shape it. But before you can take a step closer, you are stopped by a soft hand on your shoulder. Expecting it to be your mother, you put your hand on it and turn around… only to notice it was Jonathan. The barber.

“I was going to say that we are not going there, but… are you trying something ?”

You vehemently deny, red appearing on all your face, making him laugh very elegantly.

“Hahaha ! Your expressions are so precious ! No, we’re going inside that special room, with the elite setup, for maximum comfort !” You stare at him, unsure of why he’s trying to do by playing into your mom’s delusions. “What, it’s comfortable for me too ! And it’s topical !”

You smile from that defense that paints an image quite different from the one he casts, that more of a laid-back and less… arrogant than the uptight and quick to point out ancestry he seemed to your mother. He makes you sit on the chair inside the private room, that feels incredibly comfortable, as he takes out multiple products, clippers and scissors.

“I’m sorry your mother made such a scene… I mean, we’re supposed to be the one uncomfortable, but you must have been so ashamed hearing her spouting nonsense like that.” Of that you agree. « Now, before you start making up ideas, I’m not a noble or anything. I just said that to impress her, because I know it works – I’m sure she would faint if she knew I lived in a small flat with three roommates to save money ! Though the lineage is correct, it doesn’t come with fortune, unfortunately.”

He speaks so much that you have a hard time saying anything. And in the time he took to explain every part of his trick, he washed your hair and put in some weird lotion. How industrious he is, expertly manipulating your hair while not stopping one second from talking… Although his claims to famous families were bogus, his claims to skill were visibly warranted.

“Now, let me talk about what I’m going to do. See, I’d like to keep your hair. It’s nice and long, and I’d likely trim it a little and find some ways to dress it so that you can have a good cut that will sway even the straightest of guys and the gayest of girls. « However… due to the whole situation, I have to give you a shorter cut. See, I know her type. She wouldn’t find anything but that a proper men’s cut. But don’t worry, I have here everything necessary to make you own that short cut.”

And as he said all of that, he used scissors to cut down most of the length, the locks falling one after another, in a shower of hair. Although you feel very hurt by this development, you can’t stay mad too long with him overwhelming your brain with words… Actually, is that a strategy he’s using ? As if he was-

“So the recipe for a short cut in the current trends is the curly undercut. Thankfully your hair is already curly, so I won’t have to change much, but there are some details that I’ll still have to fix. « But right now, I’m concentrating on the most important : the shape. Now that most of the mass has been dealt with, I’m shaping it so we can find the modern shape we’re trying to achieve. Now, you may think that looking like a mushroom is cringe… and to be honest, you’re right, but it’s only cringe if you of think it as much.”

God, he was so fast ! He drew the clippers, put a short guard, and tore through the sides of your hair, leaving only short fur ! And he even had the time to make the short part two-tone, with it being a smidge longer when connecting with the top of the hair ! He really is gifted ! But as he did that, what he told you about cringe kept on making rounds in your head. Although it feels almost wrong, like an incorrect leap of logic… you couldn’t find how. You could only find more ways in which it was correct.

If you’re the one to wear such a cringy haircut… should you be revising your stance on it ? It’s not as if you could get rid of it that easily… And looking at how much expertise Jonathan puts in cutting your hair… should you even ? Should you not accept that it’s your hair, and be… proud of it ? Of having your hair cut by such a gifted barber, who chose such a hot and trendy cut ? That thought feels weird… kind of… intoxicating. Like it’s opening a door that should not have been open, making you feel hotter than ever.

Because you decide that you are hot.

“And then, I just have to cut down the top to an acceptable volume ! See, it’s all about volume, about looking big and fluffy. It’s a pain to style – believe me – but it’s worth it, because it’s such a show off. « You know, you have a great nature of hair, you should absolutely not spit on that. Many people use chemicals to get a result resembling your hair, yet you have it naturally ! What better thing to show off !”

On that time, he switched to scissors and has cut the top of your air so it only kinda looks like a mushroom. Now, everything fits together… and it makes you feel so much hotter. It’s not cringe, you’re just hot, and you love it. But your brains latches on how high-effort this whole style is, and how great your hair is… Sure, you know that you check out a lot of guys who have great muscles, handsome faces, and generous crotches, but you never thought of that concept applied to you.

You never felt like you had anything much to be proud of, in your body, but seeing how he praises your hair, how many guys want to have hair just like yours… it makes something click for you. You do have something to be proud of. And it’s something others should get to enjoy. So why not use these high-effort techniques ? Why not put in work ? And what then would be wrong to get feedback for this work ?

It all feels so intoxicating… It feels so wrong… But it’s so good, so attractive, and it makes you so, so, sooo happy. So why stop ? Somehow the thought of annoying others by showing off just… doesn’t compute anymore. You’re happy showing others, they should be happy seeing what you’re good at.

“Now, please lie down in this machine. I know I said that your hair had a great nature and didn’t need to have any chemicals to get it like that… it doesn’t mean that it is well-taken care of.

« Thankfully, thanks to the product I put in your hair and the machine here, it should be looking good as new ! Don’t worry if it feels a bit weird at first, everyone gets surprised by it !”

As soon as you lie down in the machine, he activates it and goes out of the small room. You are left under the big… thing ? rectangle ? You can’t actually describe it much, it’s just weird. But it hums, and it feels quite warm… almost as if it was frying something. You don’t know, your head is just empty at the moment.

Suddenly, you feel your arms twitch. Then your torso. Then your core, and your legs, and the rest of you body. Thousands of small pricks invade your body as what was just a weird occurrence becomes something very uncomfortable. Your muscles are all twitching, all aching as if they were suffering from over-exertion. You don’t quite know why, and you would like to know why, but your head refuses to think of any answer, as it feels like it is absolutely frying inside the warmth of the machine.

You hear through all the noises of the machine the sound of tears, but don’t make much of it, as the rest of the sensations were invading you. Everything feels uncomfortable. You want to be out of this machine as fast as possible. But simply leaving the underside of the rectangle never occurres as a possibility in your embattled brain.

No, only bips from the machine, signaling it was turned off, broke your frying brain from utter nothingness.

You look around, seeing the tatters of your clothes on you. You think a little, when you realize that you should probably take them off. But then, the subsequent problem arose : how to cover your muscular body. Thankfully, when standing up, you see a collection of luxury boxers, fine jogging pants, a puka shells necklace and a black iPhone. You put them on, finding them to meet your standards, when suddenly, you see a mirror. Not the one in front of the barber chair, another.

Were you always blonde ? You can’t really remember, but… it’s the perfect position to take a selfie, isn’t it ? So you open the phone, enter your code, and move it up and down until you get the lighting perfect. Then, you take it.

Perfection.

Its very definition.

You look so hot, everyone’s gonna fall to their knees.

And when you leave the private room, opting for a heavy gait to show off your ripped muscles better, you notice your mom, who looks half-proud, half-horrified at you. But you don’t really care for her, what you really care about is all the people staring at you, checking you out. Even Jonathan Nasukawa, that ikemen, hyper-hot guy who cut your hair, looks at you proudly.

And as you rock your few remaining braincells to find somewhere you can show off better, you can only find one appropriate place to go.

“Yo, ma.” You hail your mother, who is very shocked at how you suddenly speak to her. “I have to go to the club, so let me leave the car before coming home.”

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by an absolutely insufferable boy-mom skit on tiktok

“I was wrong,” Steve announces as he enters the kitchen, “It would have been better to just go by myself.”

Eddie looks up, eyebrows furrowed, because – A) it's not exactly what he’d expected his husband to say first thing after arriving home from a day spent in the Berkshires at his coworker’s wedding, and B) Steve can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and almost never admits defeat – not for dumb, petty shit, anyways, like how Steve almost didn’t go to the wedding at all because Eddie couldn't go with him until their oldest daughter Moe gallantly volunteered to attend in his wake.

(Which Steve had been goddamn thrilled about too, mostly because he’s hoping if Moe sees enough wedding propaganda, she’ll start thinking about popping the big question to her partner, Gray).

“Not a fun party, I take it?” Eddie asks.

“I had a great time,” Moe shrugs.

“Oh, I know,” Steve replies, “I know you had a damn fantastic afternoon.”

Steve has a tone, and it's the same tone he used when he found out Moe helped her friends password-protect all the Fox News Channels on their WASP-y mom's TVs, the same tone he used when Moe got kicked off the basketball team the same day she received an academic award from the school for having a 5.0 GPA (which, for the record, Eddie didn't even think was possible), the same tone he always uses when Moe stirs up her very specific flavor of trouble. Thing is though – Moe is twenty-three, and while she’s been a menace since day-one, she’s got a more than decent head on her shoulders and a fine-tuned sense of place and time. It’s not exactly like her to cause problems at something as important as a wedding – not without cause anyway.

“I think I’m, like, best friends with the bride now or something,” Moe is saying, and again, Eddie’s brow furrows as he looks back at Steve.

“Wasn’t your coworker the groom?” he asks.

“Yep,” Steve sighs, “Moe got into it with his mother.”

“Oh, god.”

“It had to be done,” Moe nods, “She wore a veil. She was openly complaining about how he danced with his wife – the bride – before he danced with her. She kept getting all worked up because her baby boy was leaving her. She needed to be stopped.”

Eddie had to keep a look of understanding off his face (in solidarity with Steve, obviously), because he’s been a certified girl-dad for over two decades now and he’s had his fair share of encounters with the dreaded boy-mom (a girl-dad’s natural enemy, he’s pretty sure).

“Hon, it was not your job to get involved,” Steve tiredly insists.

“I totally disagree,” Moe replies with another casual shrug, “The maid of honor was trying her best but she clearly needed help. And – I maintain that I pulled my punches. I could’ve spilled wine on her dress, but I didn’t. There’s only one rule at weddings and it’s don’t piss off the bride. The bride thanked me afterwards, so…it was fine.”

"You've got an interesting definition of fine," Steve tells her, "I really think there's an unspoken preserve the peace rule or something that wedding guests shouldn't start shit in the middle of the reception – especially not with anyone in the wedding party."

“Oh, what would you know?” Moe fires back, “You didn’t even have a wedding!”

“And even if we had,” Eddie comments idly, “there wouldn’t have been a mother-of-the-groom present to screw shit up. Hey – people get all up in arms over the bride’s mom and the groom’s mom. What about the dads?”

Moe shrugs.

“I think the bride’s dad was just happy they didn’t do the stupid garter thing,” she says, and she misses the way Eddie’s face falls, his eyes meeting Steve’s over Moe’s head to see he’s got a matching grimace on his face.

[inesbaby21]

can you do headcannons of all the girl you write for with a gymnast!reader? i never see people do these.

ouu i like this idea ofc!

Caitlin Clark x Gymnast!Reader

You two definitely met in high school

Spending all of your free time watching movies, reading, baking!

She definitely understands the pressure you're under, and as much as you're there for cait she's there for you

ughh, poor baby panics whenever you slip off of the balancing beam just a little and is sitting on the edge of her seat

Soooo sooo possessive, and If she hears anyone talking about you during your routine she's not any better than calling them out and telling them to "Do everything she just did, and has been doing for the last 14 years of her life in 3 minutes."

Absolutely loves watching you work on your tumbling, and one hand front flips!

She definitely is the type of gf/wife to show up to the olympics with a post that has your face on it

I'm seeing you two getting separated during college, but working through that as you eventually do transfer to Iowa to be closer to her.

Best, Best, BEST support system! Always makes sure you're well rested, you have something on your stomach and carries all of your gym bags

Definitely wants you to be at all over her games (College and in the WNBA) because you're her "good luck charm"

Touchies Gf ever, but just loves to hold you. Also loves when you do her hair before a game

Definitely the biggest support, and is arguing with judges when they take away points from a flawless performance because of something out of your control

Has the worst problem with women's gymnast outfits .. why do you have to wear the leo's, and do the tight buns if you don't want to??

Always there for her baby no matter what, and if your injured best believe she's the first one out of the stands and by your side.

Definitely blows kisses to you while she plays, and you're sitting court side

I'm skipping ahead to the future a little, but CC as a mom 🥹 omg

Always helps your little girl get ready, and you three definitely have a family/couple blog

OH AND BEST BELIEVE BABY CLARK KNEW HOW TO DRIBBLE A BASKETBALL BEFORE SHE COULD TALK

Definitely is a supportive parent, and will skip any and ALL practice/games if baby clark has a dance recital or a k-1 basketball game!

I also see Gymnast!Reader going into labor during an olympic game (shes not competing bc she literally about to pop) and CC stopping dead in her tracks to help rush you to the hospital!

Gymnast!Reader and CC definitely have the cutest babies ever, but I think they're going to take after CC height wise as gymnast reader realistically never made it past 4'11 .. (don't judge for like the crazy height difference most gymnast are like really fucking short) 😞

Kinda feeling bad for Gymnast!Reader because TWICE in 4 years your pushing out monster sized babies and STILL having to get back up and compete after maternity leave ??

CC and Gymnast!Readee definitely have a winter baby idc idc! First baby girl was born sometime in december right before new years like the 29th (haha dec 29th is my birthday!)

CC IS A CERTIFIED GIRL MOM, ARGUE WITH YOUR MAMA.

Okay guyssss i really love writing about CC, and send in more requests for her! this was so cute and so fun to write omg

[slut4megantheestallion]

Kai cenat Headcannons

● Kai loves constantly annoying or pulling pranks on you he just loves seeing get irritated. He pulled a prank on you, telling you to 'shut up' constantly every word you say. He was laughing but not too long since you beat his ass to get back at him. "Bro, ow why you gotta hit me like that, yo?" Kai said, rubbing his arms since you hit him so hard. "That's what yo ass get for pranking me, nigga." Y/n said laughing at him, as he glarer at you.

● He has you on your streams 24/7. His fans love you. They love the dynamic friendship y"all have together.

● He does the most dumbest shit and it you always have to get him out of it like it's annoying but it's funny as fuck.

● Nigga is a big back he may not look like a big back, but no he's a certified nig back nigga would be stealing or eating alot of food.

● If somebody tried to do something to you, he'd defend you.

● His mom and sister love and be teasing him since you guys would be a cute couple, but y'all brushed it off, y'all were just close.

●You're practically a part of Amp. His friends love you and are treated like a part of the group.

● Randomly dancing together.

● You'll scare him during his streams when he's playing a horror game.

● You tease him about being short. He only allows you to tease him, and he actually finds your jokes funny, to be honest.

● Y'all be doing crazy challenges together that can possibly make you both end up in the hospital.

● Try not to laugh videos with the rest of the amp members.

● That one time he brought nicki minaj on his stream, you were so happy because he knew how much you loved nicki and got a chance to meet her, Nicki liked you so much.

● You're his biggest supporter through everything, even through his ups and downs.

● Y"all be making secret joke no one could understand of how close you two are.

● Kai wanted to have you around every time through everything he appreciated you and is very glad to have as his best friend he couldn't be more grateful.

● If you were going through something with your mental health, he would always stop everything for you and would check up on you and make sure you're alright.

● When amp popularity soared, Kai became a household name, a beacon of positivity and laughter in a world of negativity, But through it all y/n remained by kai's side,being his confidant advisor and most important, his best friend.

● Kai and Y/n have the most infectious humor together and very entertaining qualities. You both are everything funny since y'all are both unserious and someone who can take his sense of humor.

● Kai is very humble and didn't let the fame change him. You'll expect a lot of support from his fans, friends, and family members. If kai was facing a lot of hate or backlash, you'll be listening to him rant and give him words if encouragement.

● Kai loves spoiling you he'll put you anything you want that you never had growing up. He bought you a car, and you were never much happier and more grateful. "Nah, what?? Yo, thank you for everything. You didn't have to do this." Y/n said, wiping the tears from her eyes as kai smiled at her. "No, you deserve it. we been through so much, and you were there through my ups and downs, you my best friend." Kai said as you both hugged each other longingly.

● Kai takes you everywhere together. Your friendship was never boring. He was taking you on trips traveling across the world. Attending exclusive events, meeting people, and just having fun, from red solo carpets, concerts, and having such a fun experience together.

● You never turned your back on kai even if he be annoying arms times, you would never be fake like everyone else Is on social media, you never talked shit about him ever and never used him for clout, you was like a sister to him.

● As y/n and Kai's friendship grew even stronger, they faced through challenges, good time, bad times, fame, but through it all, y'all were inseparable, bound together. Kai loves you, and he's lucky to have you by his side.

[acupofinkedblood]

Banhammer and sibling reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

• Having a SFOTH as a deity is such a privilege, although it’s obvious that you are adopted. How so? It’s either Windforce sees your potential or you remind her of something that she wants to keep you under her wings, you can’t really understand what a god is thinking after all. One normal day you still live on the street and has to fight for your survival, then the very next day a deity appears out of nowhere to offer you to go with her. Quite the fairytale, no?

• You didn’t expect her to be a good mom, but here you are

• Of course, that event has led to the next unexpected meeting. You were just a kid, and when Windforce brought you back to her domain, just imagine your face when you see another demon child. He looks older than you, especially in his physique. Windforce told you that from now on, Banhammer would be your older brother— That was definitely a lot of information to process within a day

• Banhammer is definitely curious at your presence as much as you are with his. When knowing that you’re a mortal, his ego is boosted up as if it makes him thinking that he’s stronger than you. And what does that make him? A very responsible older brother for you! At least that’s what he thought inside his head. Whether he is giving big brother energy or certified bastard energy is still debatable, but it’s probably both in your case

• He drags you all over his home — or should I say, your shared home as well — and telling you about everything in everywhere. From showing you around each room to take you to his ‘secret hideout’ which is just literally just his treehouse. Why did he show you that? Because you are his sibling now, and you should be grateful because he only shares this place with you! Stories about Windforce while the two running around is a must. This guy is a mama’s boy after all, don’t be that surprised

• Banhammer will act all high and mighty in front of you, mostly because he wants to show off. He will get you to follow him from behind like a little duckling. It looks kinda hilarious. Although he might look like he is unbothered by that on the outside, he is all giddy inside because it makes him feel maturer. Windforce memorizes that moment in your childhood album, and you know damn well how he will brag about how the teeny tiny little shit used to follow him around has all grown up

• Knowing that you’re a mortal intrigues him. Be prepared to answer a bunch of random questions this guy throws at you at the difference between you and him. But that doesn’t mean he will treat you like a snowflake though. Windforce has to see something in you to bring you back, so Banhammer knows that you’re more than capable of defending yourself

• Speaking of that, he will get you to play fight with him. Even when that takes place when the two of you are still young, his competitiveness is still pretty visible there. You have wrestled his ass down from times to times, and of course, he returns the favor by double up his winning streak. The first time you won, he sulked bitterly before you have to bump your horn against his like a silent apology. He doesn’t hold a grudge that long because of such trivial matter, at least with you, so don’t worry

• You think being this dude’s younger sibling will save you from his asshole behavior? You have never been more wrong. He only takes it easier for you a bit, but the overall attitude is still there

• Before he can summon his gear properly, he has this toy hammer that he adores with all his life. He usually bonking it around to anyone in sight, especially you. Windforce has lost count how many times she has to step in to stop the two of you from running around and screaming your lives away: He keeps laughing like a mad man while you are screaming at how mean he is

• Remember his hidden wings? Sometimes when he is feeling like chaos, he will hold your arms and start flying with no warning ahead. The first few time like that, you were pretty positive that you were about to cry. But once you get used to it, it’s actually not that bad. Of course, knowing this dickhead, he will have that smug expression on while threatening to drop you in that sing-song voice. You know he won’t, but goddamn does that get on your nerves

• On such random times he will just flop on top of you out of nowhere like a cat. You definitely kick his ass down to the ground later on because it feels like he just jumped in WWE style right down to you. Do the same to him won’t give you the similar reaction though, but his body is pretty warm so just lie down on him whenever you feel bored. Your brain cell just declines whenever the two of you are around each other after all

• Aside from those times he just goes full on over the top to annoy the living hell out of you, he isn’t actually that bad

• The two of you don’t really know much about the other relatives much. If anything, you only know Firebrand’s kid but that is a distant memory know. That narrows the interaction circle of the two of you, aside from some friends you make outside. That makes it clear that you spend most of your time relying on him and Windforce. If we count the time when she is on her godly duty, then you have your brother left

• That is to sum up the influence he has on you. Aside from your mother, he is the role model for you to look up. You pick up a certain few things from him, even when you’re not aware of it. Denying it as much as you want when he points it out, you can’t get that shit-eating grin off his face

• The two of you give off that chaotic siblings vibe that will bicker over the slightest bit in sarcasm. That’s your love language to piss each other off, no offense of course. That’s just a sibling thing to pull each other’s leg in a loving way, and revenge is definitely a solution afterward. You two are both fire, challenging each other to see who shines the brightest for fun. But when the two of you agree on something then lock in, that’s the demise for everyone else

• When you two start growing up together, the sibling bound between the two of you is seen obviously. Coming from the same mentor and under the care of the same mother really gives you two a list of similarities in the way you act and the way you appear in general, but you still have your own unique traits. But other than that, the two of you match each other’s vibe. It’s hard not to tell that the two of you are siblings at this point

• Valk definitely becomes the victim of your endless teasing tactics, poor your nephew. You two can be the asshole duo of the family in Thanksgiving that don’t hold back on anyone at all, unless your mom is watching over you like a hawk. One time Firebrand asks you to babysit Dom and Valk for a while, you end up dragging your brother into this. You don’t really remember how an UNO match leads to the two of you tape little Valk and Dom up on the wall so you can watch TV in peace, but hey, at least they are still alive

• Banhammer has quite the fascination with guitar. You remember gifting him an electric one and he just keeps doing that cringey face to poke fun of you for being oh so sweet unlike your typical puffer fish behavior. But he appreciates it a lots, really. He insists on practicing whenever he has the chance to. Knowing your brother, once he has interest over something, he wants to master it with style

• And hey, he’s actually pretty good at it. You can be the judge of that. He still keeps the same guitar you have gifted him years ago in good condition

• You has seen him dying his horns to the similar color of your mom quite a lots, especially when he is still a teenager. You know that he probably wants to be like her more, so you offer to help him out. If you want to do the same thing, he is more than happy to help you out. He also gets you to pierce his horns as well. He does some other one by himself, but leave his horn to you. After a good while he stops dying his horn to look like his mother as he learns how to take pride in himself more as well, but the piercings stay no matter what

• Only the two of you can mess around with each other and get away with it. If it’s someone else that pull that disrespect onto you? He will make that his personal business as if he’s the one that is offended. The same principle applies to the opposite, but you usually rely on your viscous verbal insult rather than physical strength like his. The two of you have each other’s back, defending each other like your life is depending on it. May the SFOTH blesses whoever is stupid enough to seriously cross you and him because shit is about to get wild

• When he officially has his duty at the tyrant of Banland, the two of you spend less time together. But you still hangout whenever he’s free. There is this option if you want to be in the Banland’s police force, then you get the chance to stick around pretty often. That is if you can stand the heat radiating from the lava when you enter the place, of course. Seeing him using the prisoners of Banland to practice his gifted golf talent is something that you can’t stop laughing about, it’s amusing, really

• You know he can be serious when needed, but in your eyes, that’s just still your idiotic brother who you grew up with. And you will always be that itty bitty little jerk of the little sibling that he has a soft spot for

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

[eternalguk]

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist!

All works here are written by me, © eternalguk. No reposting, modifications or translations are allowed.

Disclaimer; all works are +18. Minors DNI.

a = angst | f = fluff | s = smut

Jeon Jeongguk

❧ All Yours | a , f , s

↠ Your love for Jungkook was a quiet emotion. He was the oxygen you needed to breathe. In his kisses, you found sincerity. In his embrace, you discovered your heartbeat. And in his love, you found your eternal home.

❧ Losers | a , f , s

↠ Jeon Jeongguk. Your brother's best friend, your mom's favourite human, and the man who is saved as, the certified asshole, on your phone. With his black hair and piercings, his tattoos and skinny jeans… Jeongguk has been your worst nightmare since you were 18. Six years later, getting along with him is still impossible. The only difference? His pastime then was to steal your diary and read it aloud. Now? Well… let’s just say, it’s most definitely not the same.

❧ Before Sunday Ends | f , s

↠ With scents of vanilla lingering in the air. With the comforting sound of Jungkook cooking. And, with a deep, unspoken connection that needs no words… you find yourself falling in love with Jungkook all over again.

❧ All Mine | f , s

↠ When Jungkook's jealousy flares, it’s not just a fleeting emotion—it’s a spark that sets the night ablaze. His possessive side takes over, and he’s determined to remind you exactly who you belong to… in the most unforgettable way.

❧ Our Quiet Christmas | f , s

↠ After a whirlwind year of schedules, chaos, and never-ending to-do lists, Jungkook whisks you and your daughter away to a secluded cabin for a much-needed Christmas getaway. With snowflakes falling outside and the crackling fire keeping the cold at bay, it’s the perfect chance to slow down and soak in the love that makes your little family so special… But Jungkook has more than just cosy movie nights and snowman-building in mind—he’s set on expanding your family, and he’s not exactly subtle about it. Between his playful charm, heartfelt confessions, and stolen kisses by the fire, it’s hard to resist the idea of giving Areum the sibling Jungkook can’t stop dreaming about.

❧ Checked out | f , s (teaser)

↠ When your best friend asks you to cover her shift at the campus library, you reluctantly agree, figuring it’ll be a quiet night of reshelving books and dodging overdue fees. What you don’t expect is Jeon Jungkook, the star of your shared lectures and the subject of your most distracted daydreams, walking in with a cocky smile and a book to return. Flirty banter turns into suggestive glances, and when Jungkook offers to help you “restock” in the back storeroom, the air grows thick with more than just dust. Alone, pressed between shelves of forgotten novels, you realise some things are worth being overdue for. After all, who needs silence in the library when the tension is this loud?

❧ Pink Hearts & Black Clouds | a , f , s | series (teaser)

↠ Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

A series of oneshots following the lives of grunge bf!jk and bimbo gf!reader (alternatively known as doll!… oc requested for this to be in pink!)

Requests

❧ I’ve got this | fluff

↠ Jungkook becomes angry as you politely request to split the bill after a meal out.

❧ IKEA Showrooms & Moody Nightclubs | fluff, crack

↠ Jungkook and you bicker over who chooses the paint colour of your new home.

Please note that my stories are currently Jungkook centred, but I will be sharing stories based on other members eventually.

[howlingday]

So funny idea I told Fatallyobsessed.

What if Opzin hired Kali to be a communication and home etc professor at Beacon?

Like to teach them how to take care of themselves and how to deal with civilians in the field. I'm sure they learned medical practice at Prep school.

I just saw that. And yeah, I think it would be a pretty neat skill to learn. Actually, I recently learned some things about baking and cooking that I think might make these classes all the more useful to up and coming huntresses and huntsmen. Now, where did I put that Culinary Doctorate degree...?

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

Prof. Kali

With a recent decline in White Fang activity globally, Ozpin had decided to reach out to any friends left in Menagerie for assistance with his school. As it turned out, one of the best chefs on the island micro-nation was none other than the chieftain's wife, Kali Belladonna. Ghira was worried about her leaving, just as any husband would, but she eased his fears that she would stay safe enough to keep in touch.

The interview was a breeze to get through as she was a certified chef, baker, and cook. She knew the right ingredient to use as an alternative when a student had an allergy, what sorts of proteins and minerals were required to keep a huntsman functioning, and had proven to be impeccable at time management, cooking for the staff at Beacon to prove her skill. Ozpin offered the job and added a bonus if she helped in the cafeteria, too.

Starting her first day in the middle of the school year put her a little on edge, but she steeled herself as she stepped into her classroom, ready to help these students become self-sufficient monster hunters. Honestly, the only thing she didn't prepare for was-

"Blake?!" Her daughter was powerless to stop Kali from wrapping herself around her. "Oh, my baby girl, you're okay~!"

"M-Mom..." Blake gently pushed her off. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Kali parroted. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I'm attending Beacon." Blake answered. "I... left and-"

"It's okay, sweetheart." Kali held her hand up. "We can talk after. For now, take your seat while everyone else is coming in."

"What?" Blake blinked, watching as her mother quickly walked away and shouted to students as they were coming in.

"Come in, come in! Everyone, take a seat~!" Kali made it to the board and began drawing her name on the board. "I am Professor Kali Belladonna, and I will be your Home Economics instructor at Beacon Academy."

"Wait, like Blake Belladonna?" A blonde girl asked, sitting next to her daughter.

"Yes, Blake is my daughter, but that doesn't mean she, or any of her teammates can slack off on their assignments." She rounded the desk and looked around at her class. "Home Economics is a class for preparing young students like yourselves for the real world."

"The one filled with Grimm?" A girl with orange hair asked.

"Yes, and who's going to fill your bellies while you fight those Grimm? Because let me give you a spoiler warning; it's not going to be your mother, your father, or your teachers."

"What about our butlers?" A girl with black hair with red tips asked, raising her hand that was swiftly brought down by a girl with white hair.

Kali giggled. "Do you really think you're rich enough to have butlers? Maybe if you're the head of the Schnee Dust Company, but last I checked, Jacques Schnee had no interest in being a huntsman." The girl with white hair blushed at the comment, angrily glaring at the girl next to her. "How many of you know how to cook already?"

A few hands went up. A boy with long, dark hair, another boy with blond hair and blue eyes, and a girl with long, blonde hair and a cheeky grin. Kali nodded, since this was at least two more than she expected. She quirked a brow, though.

"Blake, I thought I raised you better." The class laughed at the tease, earning a blush from her daughter. "But life does happen. It can get in the way of us sitting down to a good meal, which robs us of our energy, which makes it harder for us to fight, which makes us hungrier, which takes away more energy, and so on and so on until..." She held out her hands. "You know what happens if a huntress can't fight."

Kali snapped her finger. "Pop quiz!" The class groaned. "Who knows what tryptophan is?" A girl with red hair raised her hand. "Yes, Pyrrha Nikos!" The girl blinked, suddenly off-put by the address of her full name. "I saw your fights when I was cooking dinner one day. Sorry. Do you know what tryptophan is?"

"It's the chemical in turkey that makes you tired, isn't it?" Pyrrha answered.

"Isn't it? Yes, it is!" Kali giggled. "But that's only if you eat about eight pounds of it. Like, say, at a big banquet to celebrate human and faunus unity?"

"I can eat that." The orange-haired girl commented.

"So can my husband!" Kali laughed, getting a laugh from some of her students. "Now, what fruits should you avoid after taking heart medicine?" The students shared a confused look. "It's tricky, isn't it? Anyone want to guess?"

"Apples?" The blond boy offered.

"Bzzt! Nope!" Kali giggled. "Anyone else? No?" She shrugged. "The answer is grapefruits, though you should also avoid limes, pomelos, and certain oranges. These fruits contain a chemical called furanocoumarins, which causes your heart to slow down and stop as a reaction to the medication." The young girl with silver eyes gaped in amazement as her mind was blown. "Knowing the specifics of what you put in your body can mean the difference between life and death."

"Um, Mrs. Belladonna?"

"Yes, Blake?"

"What... exactly is the lesson plan?"

"I was getting to that. Thank you, Blake." She wasn't. The truth was that she was so excited to share fun facts that she was about to spend an entire class pop-quizzing kids on food trivia. Thankfully, her daughter was here to stop her, just like her father would when she'd talk her guests ear off about food back in Menagerie. "Starting tomorrow, you will all be assigned to complete a recipe. You will go to the market in your free time and look for the best prices for your recipe. By the end of this week, I should have the recipes. By the end of next week, you should have the real thing sitting in front of you, ready for taste-testing. Failure to provide will result in F for the assignment."

Reaching into the desk, Kali hefted a stack of books. "These will be your textbooks. We will go ever each chapter, learn what we need you to learn, and then apply what was taught into your skills." She walked around, placing books in front of students as she passed. "Failure to bring your book won't be a failure, but it will be noted. Are there any questions?" The classroom was silent. "Good. Now, open your books to page..."

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

"Mom?"

"Hi, Blake." Kali greeted from outside the dorm. "Can we talk?"

"Um, sure." Blake stepped out, standing by her mother. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't know. You tell me." Blake felt a chill up her spine. "The first time I see you years and it's at a huntsman academy? What is going on? What happened to you being in..." She looked around. "You know?"

"I... I left." Blake answered.

"And... you're not going back?"

"No! And I'm here because..." Blake looked uneasy. "Because it was the safest place and I thought that I could make up for what I did in the- There, here."

"Oh, Blake..." Kali hugged her only daughter. "I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. And I'm so... proud of you."

"Proud of me? But I... I was-"

"You were." Kali nodded. "And it took some time, but you finally got enough sense to see things the same way your father did, and now you're doing the same thing he's doing."

"...Running away?" Blake winced.

"Making up for it." Kali held Blake's hands. "You saw what horrible things Sienna and Adam were doing, so now you're trying to make up for what you've done by becoming a huntress."

"But... isn't that selfish?"

"Kitten, I am holding hands and hugging a student, both of which are against Beacon staff policy. Do you think I'm selfish for wanting to hold my daughter?"

"...Would I be wrong for saying no?"

"No, but I would still be wrong because what I'm doing is selfish. But enough about right and wrong, selfish or brave- show me, your mother, where you're living!"

"But Mom-"

"Professor Belladonna."

"Professor Belladonna, what about the... Beacon staff policy?"

"I'm sure they'll make an exception for the hugging. And as for me coming in, I'll just say it was a late-night inspection. I have heard a few things about what your team has been getting up to."

Blake shrunk a little. "Well, okay..." She then opened the door, bringing her mother into her new life.

[luvo27]

Jammer talking to his mom after receiving his letter questioning whether or not he should go to bird school: the initial excitement has died down, he’s not sure he wants to leave his friends and most importantly, his family behind. His mom wants what’s best for him and tells him to go, he tells her he’ll visit as often as he can, or write or text or email, he doesn’t know if the wifi will be good or not. He tells her he’ll work hard, study hard, learn hard, etc. so when he comes back, he’ll be able to help out more

Jammer gets CPR certified after his second time visiting LEEP. After the first time he went with his college basketball team, he’d sent Jewel an email asking about if they needed any extra help or if they had open volunteer hours. She’d sent back an effusively enthusiastic response, telling him he’d be welcome any time. After he went back the second time, she’d emailed him some extra resources he could use if he wanted to continue volunteering, including links to several different cpr certification classes he could take. It’s so inconsequential and he’s probably never going to have to use it anyways, it never crosses jammer’s mind to tell his friends about it.

Theres a kid at leep that freaks jammer out (but he still likes her because she somehow manages to be a sweet kid anyways) who talks in a fake british accent and has an imaginary friend named cassandra

a Jammer and Evan conflict, in the way that people who care deeply about each other but have opposing worldviews conflict. It’s not an argument so much as highly charged conversation about their opposing moralities and what they will or will not do for each other. Evan loves his friends enough to kill for them, jammer loves his friends enough to bring them back to life. Jammer doesn’t want his friend to kill anyone, evan doesn’t understand how jammer doesn’t understand it’s out of love. The source of all conflict between evan and jammer is that jammer believes that people are inherently good and want to help people because he wants to help people, and evan believes that people are inherently bad because he thinks he’s inherently bad.

jammer realizing that he's not allowed to leave when he tries to visit home. he already feels terrible for missing the holidays with his family. (Thanksgiving without his mom and grandparents? Christmas without his mom and grandparents?) maybe one of his family members is sick. maybe he's trying to go home to help them. the rest of his friends are fine staying, they're find not being able to leave, but Jammer? he can't leave his people. the problem is that in order to be there for his people, he has to leave his people. they're supportive, they tell him to go home and take care of his family, they tell each other they'll keep in touch, jammer's gonna watch all of sam's livestreams, they'll text and facetime, they're not going to stop being friends. jammer gets home. he tries to be the person he remembers being, so he can support his family in the way he remembers doing. due to the nature of being human, he fails. he starts telling people that he bought spalding from temu

[kitalphahart]

Stardew Bachelor/ette headcanons

Some may actually be canon? Or quasi-canon. Keep in mind that my character is like me in the aspect of not choosing any of them to marry. I might do Krobus as a roommate, but that's about it

Leah: was the newest arrival until the farmer showed up. Wasn't looking for a relationship after the whole fiasco with Kel, and generally keeps to herself. Is somewhat closr to Robin due to both working with wood, albeit in different ways, and Elliot for being the only other person in the town who doesn't have a connection to someone who is or was part of it. As a result, she's a stranger to lost the townsfolk

Maru: would be an anxious wreck if she weren't medicated. Tried to get close to her half-brother all the time as a kid, but slowly stopped as he kept pushing her away. She does wish they could connect, though she doesn't know how or where to start. She enjoys working with Harvey, but outside work she can't really stand him. Would call him a weenie if she used that sort of language

Haley: is materialistic because that's how her parents spoiled her to hide their not-that-great parenting. Secretly she wishes she wasn't like that, but feels she can't truly change it. Besides, she occasionally gets pretty clothes from her parents and she can't not wear them, even if only once. Even if they are the wrong size, which they usually are. Got into photography due to her sister gifting her a cheap Polaroid camera

Emily: is into mysticism out of spite against her parents. Makes her own clothes out of spite as well. She hates her parents, but would never say so. Sandy is an ex, the two realized they are better as friends than dating, which is why they're still on good terms. Some people don't believe they broke up, and if the Farmer marries her, Sandy makes them a throuple. She doesn't like Clint but gets the feeling that if she rejects him he'll go psycho stalker

Abigail: is actually really good at using a sword. Marlon has given her lessons in secret, and sees her as an excellent apprentice. If only her father wasn't such a--. Forced by her mother to take flute lessons at first, but ended up enjoying them. If she crosses paths with the Farmer heading to the mines, she wants to join. Even if the monsters do scare her. Once she dyed her hair purple, not only did it not fade, nothing else sticks. Even stripping the color has it come back the next morning

Penny: wants a large family with someone loyal to her so she can raise her kids right, not the way she was raised. An excellent teacher for young kids, the main thing holding her back from being properly educated and certified to teach is her mother's drinking habits. She wishes she lived somewhere she could feel pride, but instead has the short stick and has to make do. She took up reading to get away from her negligent father and later abusive mother. Educating others was the next step in her mind, and she's doing what she can with what she has. The war doesn't make getting new textbooks easy, however

Sam: does not know how to act now that his dad is back. He's been Man of the House for so long, and now he's not. Focused on making a band and his guitar to compensate. Is actually good at composing music, but his aimless wandering for band type and music keeps him from getting anywhere. He ends up making music for kid's shows because he gets some variety, at least. Is aware that Vincent looks up to him and tries to be a good role model. Barring the skateboarding. He's toned it down a lot since his brother was born, but he's not above stunts

Sebastian: pushed his half-sister away first out of anger that him mom remarried, then because she's a girl and cooties, and now doesn't know how to fix the rift. Has depression, but it shows as isolation. He's seen how Shane gets and does not want to be like that. Better to stay in his room all day. A natural night owl, he chafes at daytime hours. His mom doesn't understand, and his step-father certainly won't. Speaking of, the two only interact as necessary. Sebby does not like him, and made it clear as a kid, pushing him away like he did Maru. This rift he feels is far too late to fix, and doesn't care (he claims) to fix it

Elliott: he has fallen for Leah, but won't admit it. Not after hearing about her ex and how they affected her. While he loves the idea of being the knight in shining armor rescuing her, he's too shy to do so. Even so, he is striking up a friendship with her because her sculptures are beautiful to him, and give him ideas for his novel. He does wish he could buy one, though. Or be gifted one. Is close to Willy as well. Proximity helps, but he's also fascinated by the stories the fisher has to tell. Even if some have been repeated and exaggerated over retellings

Harvey: actually had a hard time keeping up with a lot of stuff in his clinic until he hired Maru. He knows she's the reason the place stays afloat, and does all he can to keep her. In a professional manner, he loves her. In a personal manner, he has respect for her, but does not see her as a potential romantic interest. Has a late girlfriend who died from an incurable disease back in high school, motivating him to become a doctor after his fear of heights and bad eyes kept him from aviation. He won't ever admit it, but he's happy where he's at. Even if his diet is shit. Takes pride in his 'stashe

Shane: despite being Jas' godfather, he forgets about her a lot, especially when drunk. Losing his friends aka her parents, an injury keeping him from remaining in sports, and losing his dreams turned him to drinking to cope, and now he's in a rut he can't get out of. Not without help, anyway. Marnie is worried about him, and also concerned as to how he got her white and brown chickens to start popping out blue ones. What's next, pink chickens??? Constantly has stubble because the doesn't remember to shave. Or he does but since he uses an electric razor, forgets to plug it in, turn it on, or otherwise have it operate

Alex: knows he washed up, won't admit to it. His primary reason for not actually going pro and only bragging about it is because he doesn't want to leave his grandparents behind to find for themselves. He misses his mother every day, though he believes he cannot admit to it. He is a man, after all. Men don't miss people. Or cry. Under his manly man persona is a sensitive man, in touch with his emotions, but he doesn't want to admit that

Krobus: learned to talk from Gil after being found as an orphaned shadow beast. While he's reconnected to his people, he still feels different from them, having been raised by a human. He got his name after his kin discovered his upbringing, hoping that he can bring peace to their kind, as not all shadow beasts are monsters. Sadly, too many are interested in fighting to make things work

[drghostwrite]

Already Taken…

Pairing: Arizona Robbins x wife reader, reader x greys characters

Summary: reader and Arizona are married and have been keeping it extremely under wraps, everything is going okay until some of the interns decide they want to get on your service, leading to Arizona getting jealous and showing them who you belong to.

******************************************************** You walked through the front doors of Grey Sloan and headed straight for your office. You had some meetings to get to so you shot your wife a txt letting her know you’d see her during rounds. You were hired on a few weeks ago but haven’t been able to practice due to various meetings, you were a triple board certified general/obstetric/trauma surgeon who used to be chief of trauma at another hospital. You were dressed to the nines waking in your suit with coordinating stilettos your white coat, after your last 2 hour meeting with Dr. Bailey you rounded a corner running into your wife who was looking down at a chart.

“Arizona!” You said catching her in her tracks.

“Oh god Y/N you scared me.” She said laughing between you. She turned pulling you into one of the on call rooms, “How’d this morning go?”

“Oh you know the usual, they want to know everything about who I am, why I choose this job, why I started in OB and then jumped to general and then trauma…”

“Well I’m sure they loved you I mean I definitely do, though I wouldn’t have been able to focus with you looking like this.” She pulled back taking in the sight before her, your dress pants with the heels hugging your legs and butt in all the right places, your button up had the top three buttons undone revealing just enough breast to still be business but to look amazingly sexy, the way your white coat hugged your arms and how your curls fell perfectly from your bun.

“Get used to it because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of it.” You said placing a quick kiss on her lips.

“You won’t hear any complaints from me Mrs. Robbins.”

“Mm…it’s Dr. Sinclair right now.”

“You’re only helping your case.” She said ghosting over your lips again running delicate fingers tips over the v neck of your shirt, “but unfortunately I do have interns I have to attend to.”

“Yea, I have to go grab my charts and then meet you to do rounding.”

“see you then.”

“sounds good.” You said swatting at her butt as she swayed her hips out the door. You quickly grabbed your charts and made you way down the hall rounding the corner and standing behind a group of eager interns. Who whispered amongst themselves while Arizona, Dr. Bailey, and Dr. Grey stood in front.

I wonder who the new doc is, I wanna know what specialty they are, I bet it’s some old rich white guy, not even 24 hours on the floors and you have people talking. You made eye contact with your wife as she waved you forward, you stepped up next to the other doctors and the whispering stopped abruptly, busted you thought to yourself.

“Good morning interns and welcome to Grey Sloan memorial hospital, I am Dr. Miranda Bailey chief of surgery for the hospital and I am happy to be meeting you all.” She introduced herself and then you went down the line Grey for general, Robbins for PEDs, and then you the new head of trauma.

“I guess it’s my turn,” you all laughed, “I am Dr. Y/N Sinclair and I’m the new head of trauma.”

the next couple weeks went by fairly smoothly, well for a trauma department that is, the interns were always swarming trying to scrub in on the next big surgery. At first you both noticed the whispers and requests that turned into, “I’ll get your coffee,” and then that turned into other favors. You let it slide for a little bit until one day a young laboring mom was being life lighted in with severe trauma injuries, of course all the interns swarmed you and Arizona trying to get in on the surgery.

“Hey Dr. Sinclair?” One of the girls asked.

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?” This interns was promising and had been shy through her journey you were waiting for her to take the step and seize the opportunity.

“Sure, though it’ll have to be here cause we’re prepping for this surgery.”

“With her here?” She said shyly gesturing to Arizona who stood across from you at the nurses station.

“Is there a problem with Dr. Robbins being here?” you smiled at the shy intern, you'd seen her interact with Arizona before and saw how she was shy and nervous every time your wife was around, you assumed she had a girl crush whether she admitted it or not and you thought it was hilarious, you just didn't realize that it wasn't Arizona.

“No I um… I wanted to know if I can scrub in today,” she said redirecting her attention back to you and quickly realizing that you had analyzed her entire interaction.

“You know I think I’d be okay with that as long as Dr. Robbins doesn’t mind.” you looked over to Arizona who slowly looked up and nodded.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She smiled at the young doctor, who quickly scurried away, face flushed red.

“Wow, you’re quite intimidating.” Arizona said looking at you and you chuckled to yourself watching the intern retreat.

“You think so?” You eyed curiously, laughing at your wife. She slowly shook your head and chuckled to herself.

"I think she has a crush on you." you joked.

"Oh no Love, that's all you, she's intimidated by you and definitely wants a piece of you, too bad you're already taken," she said jabbing at your arm.

"Really? there's no way."

"Babe I've seen a lot of people look at you like that, I looked at you like that except I made up my mind that I was going to make you mine."

"Haha very funny."

"Yeah but you know I'm right, that's why you have my last name," she said getting close to you before teasingly turning away.

Not 15 minutes later you were standing outside the OR and Arizona had told you she would meet you there with updates and to scrub in. You heard a knock on the door and wondered who would be asking permission to come in.

“Come in.”

“Mm the mysterious Dr. Sinclair, I heard you’re letting one of us scrub into your surgery.” you looked up greeted by another young female intern.

“Yes, do you have a problem with that?”

“Only if I'm not the one scrubbing in… I wanted to ask you if you had any plans tonight, you're smart and extremely hot, like dirty sexy hot and I um… I would be willing to treat you right to a night of drinks and fun and then maybe help with some stress relief after this case.” She ran her fingertips over your bicep and stepped in closer. What you both didn’t know was Arizona was right outside the door, she slowly entered as you were responding to the intern.

You looked at the intern shocked by how forward she was, a lot of people didn't know about you and Arizona, not that you hid your marriage you just weren't openly showing it in certain settings, but you still wore a ring, even in the OR you wore one, and when in business attire you had a pretty nice diamond on your finger that was hard to miss.

“Okay, first I’m married, to an amazing woman who just so happens to be a world-class surgeon at this hospital for that matter, and If I recall you said you had another case you were working on so I would say that takes precedence, there will always be other cases.”

“I’m sure your wife wouldn’t mind…”

“Oh, I’m sure she would.” Arizona interrupted, walking over to you and crossing her arms behind you.

“She's your...I…um… Dr. Robbins, I didn’t see you there… I, um.”

“I think you were just leaving.” You said coldly, as she watched like a deer in the headlights quickly turning to run out of the room.

“And that is why I love you.”

“Arizona…”

“I know, I know…” you finished scrubbing in and while gowning up she walked over to you.

“I know I probably shouldn’t do this but good luck, and thank you for earlier.” She said and leaned up to kiss you. You could hear the gasps from the gallery as others watched this unfold and finally realized who exactly you were married to Meredith and Bailey both smirked at each other and they now didn't have to keep your little secret. But you didn’t care you were about to save lives with your wife, and there was nothing more that you’d rather be doing.

“Okay people let’s save some lives tonight.”

[nomsfaultau]

Philza Malewife Competition Round 7

Previous rounds: Cleaning. Cooking. Decorating. Karens. Sick Day. Eggs. Current points: The Lambs Wolves Wear (2), Lighting Lanterns (1), Weight in Gold (1), Fault (1), everyone else (0). And an honory point to qsmp for a guest appearance.

For a quick synopsis for the fics I’m referencing- those are here

Next round: A malewife must be an expert in fatherly hugs.

Weight in Gold: this is the softest thing forever and ever. Anyone hugging him just practically sinks into the feathers. And he’s so warm! [Philza] adores cuddling with his chicks, and is prone to pinning them down for preening sessions. Slight problem: he is FAR too heavy to be sitting on his chicks and bird instincts hard disagree. You might die but honestly? Worth it!

Babies: literally saves Tubbo’s life through the power of hugs in his fic. So, if you ever have hypothermia, this man has the certified hugs to fix it. Also will roll you up into a blanket burrito and sing the burrito song. 

Mandatory Family Reunion: The first time Techno hugs him is after realizing Philza murdered his mom and dad. So. Like. Uh. At least he’ll give good pep talks during it..?

Lord what fools these mortals be!: cradles you ever so cautiously, since he knows how easy it is for mortals to pop. His feathers are super warm and ward off the chill of the Winter Court. Plus his big wife can fit the family snug in the palm of her hand. 

Golden Apples (Gilded Atrophy): Its the first time he’s hugged his boy in 10 years, and just like his other son, Tommy’s corpse grows cold in his arms, heart broken by Philza’s own two hands. Its fine. He’s fine. This is how respawn surgery is meant to work. But he still knows his son wouldn’t need it if Philza had been there to protect him. 

Lighting lanterns to bring you home: He pays your back awkwardly. His dǒulì kinda gets in the way. 

The Lambs Wolves Wear: Its a wonderful hug, and he gives a whole speech to profess his adoration. He’s never learned how to stop tensing during physical affection, but it never mattered since the “children” didn’t know what a genuine hug was meant to feel like. 

Fault: Its straight up that scene from Howl’s Moving Castle. He’s so filled with love that he’s floating because he’s forgotten about gravity. Philza is glowing with warmth and pride. Like literally glowing. 

Labels are in all caps for clarity

[allthedamnlove]

AQUAMARINE: RAFE CAMERON X SOFIA FANFICTION: CHAPTER 3, PART 1

Previous Chapter

Face claim for a new OC, Victoria Ramirez: Sofia Carson

WORDCOUNT: 7.5K

Radio for the chapter:

Sofia's POV:

“Well, to wear blue or not to wear blue ‘tis the question, what do you think?”

Merrp Merrp

“Oh my God, Sofia, are you still talking to the cat?”

I heard my cousin Victoria Ramirez's voice boom through Facetime. She appeared on camera with a bowl of cut-up fruit on her hands, and I could feel her amusement radiating from miles away. 

“Shut up, Vic. Mishmish is a good and fair judge of character and also has an impeccable fashion sense, aren’t you, my niñita?” I concurred as I threw a sideways look at my tabby ginger cat, Mishmish, with her irresistible chubby face and snow-white neck adorning a cute blue ribbon, positioned suavely in her loaf position on her cat bed as she peered at me with observant eyes. I found this cutie when I visited here for summer vacations four years ago and she was just a lone kitten, probably left astray by her mom, shivering on our family’s porch. My sisters and I felt so bad for her and thought we would send her to the adoption center the next day after we bathed the poor kitten. 

That didn’t happen at all. And now I am a mom to the most adorable, chatty cat ever. 

“I wish I could aww at you but I am just sad that you have no social life and that all you do is bartend and yap to your cat which by the way, doesn't even understand what you’re saying”

“Well, you can stop feeling sorry for me ‘cuz I-” I shot back as I twirled around, clutching my possible outfit for the party by its coat hanger, “-am going to a Kook party. With a special invite” 

“Uh huh, now I am invested.” she came closer to the camera, keeping her food on the table, “whose party is it, anyway?”

“Rafe Cameron invited me to go to his party, Vic. Yesterday night. After I embarrassed myself in front of him by going to a prohibited beach”

“OH! Now why didn’t you tell me that crucial piece of info before, missy? Wait. Hold up, you went swimming in a prohibited area, Where? How? What happened? Oh my God, did you die? Am I talking to Sofia's haunted soul?” 

“Yup I did, and before you start bombarding me with questions again, I’ll just say what happened: basically I was sick of working. Again as usual. And then I wanted to do something out of the blue, something fun and spontaneous. And so I saw the beach and no one was there which I should have thought that through and then I just went in, mind you, I literally stripped my clothes off and was about to dive and then I felt two hands literally pulling me and then I went autopilot mode and then I screamed and guess who it was who grabbed me…” I threw my hands in the air as I recollected that painful memory, “Rafe. fucking. Cameron.” 

God, that was in my top ten moments of Sofia Ramirez being an absolute dumb dumb.” I might not have died from the water, but I sure did when I turned around and saw him. 

Funnily enough, I was thinking about the flirty-not-flirty conversation we had in the bar a week ago. That night when I lay in bed, sleep didn’t even befriend me as I stared at the night light all night, thinking about the teasing smiles he threw at me and my heart shaking as I quipped back at him, the pink light emanating fresh bits and pieces of memories as I mindlessly stared it for hours. For the town’s certified cokehead, he was charming to the T. 

And god I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive. 

When he asked me if I could come to his party after seeing me in my most unattractive set of underwear that had been used for a year, my mind just went circuit. I just said “Yes” I knew that I had met him only twice, that too, never had a proper conversation but this flicker of attraction and child-like curiosity about this guarded man is gnawing me alive. And the way our eyes can’t stop talking to each other in a language I couldn’t even understand, it’s like whenever we both look into each other, my brain just stops its blood flow and the immaterial part of my muscled heart, and my eyes just race to find his eyes and just, stare at him. 

I should probably choose a dress for this damn party. 

Victoria’s voice cut through my reverie, “Ok, so now you’re going to his party, and then what…you just gonna stand there and wave at him…or…” she arched her eyebrows as she said,” You’re actually doing something there…or…someone there, huh?”

I picked up my phone from my table and I narrowed my eyes at her, her jet-black straight hair reflecting light on her screen “Ok, first of all, shut up. And two, I’m going there because he asked me to, okay, and yeah, I’ll probably stare at the wall and drink some wine or probably some beer and say hi to him. I am not going to “do” anyone, so can it!”

“Be real for a second. How long has it been since you actually got your back blown out?” I opened my mouth to make her stop but she continued, “Wait, never. So why don’t you actually get sum by a guy who presumably has fucked half of the Kook’s female population, I mean, he may have some STD but you can still ask him if he’s clean-”

“BYEE, VICKY. REMIND ME TO NEVER CALL YOU.”

“SUA VADIA. And DON’T FORGET, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU-”

The call got disconnected with a soft PLOP.

I threw the damned phone, my outfit, and then myself on my bed, the bedspring squeaking as my body hit the lavender comforter.

I cupped my hands on my face as I groaned as quietly as I could. I hate that she’s right. I hate that my thieving mind wanted to make out with a guy I just met. 

Am I ovulating or is this how it really feels to have a crush on a guy on the daily?

In my twenty years of living and breathing oxygen, it is a joy and a slight humiliation that I have not had a proper sexual experience. I know I am way too young to even utter that sentence and I have all my life to experience “bodily pleasures” but the one time I made out with a guy was not “pleasurable” at all. It turns out that when you’re both eighteen, virgins, and have known each other for three years and then try “explore” each other, it becomes really awkward at some point when the other person can’t do a proper handjob and then you’re unsatisfied. Still, you can’t also tell that person cause you don’t wanna shame him. 

Then the worst part comes. 

You can’t even look him in the eyes the next day without turning beet red or wanting to sprint away from him yet you are stuck with him since he was your dance partner. Yeah, that technically means I am still a virgin. 

However, a dark cloud passed over my memory as I thought about the implications of baring my body and soul if I give myself to a person. Murky thoughts. No, not thoughts but memories.

"Sofía, tienes un pecho perfecto… Para bailar, por supuesto"  (Sofia, you have a perfect chest. For dancing, of course)

"Sofía, te ves muy gorda. No puedo creer que realmente te hayan dado permiso para estar aquí" (Sofia, you look so fat. Can't believe you actually got permission to be here)

"Veamos de cerca el cuerpo perfecto que mi papá nos dijo que tienes" (Let's look at the perfect body that my dad told us you have up close)

“SOFIAAA, I NEED HELP!”

I shot up as I saw Isabella, my youngest sister standing in front of my room, her walkman in one hand and her teddy bear, Beans in the other. The pink plastic tic-tac clips with charms shimmered as the light hit her hair; an adorable pout situated on her face that mirrored my features. Out of my twin sisters, Isabella “Ines” Ramirez has been endowed with my features: her oval face,  chestnut brown eyes, and wavy black hair that curls around winter; my ma always says that she even smiles like me, eyes crinkling, dimples and all. She tumbled towards me and accompanied me on the bed, crashing beside me, sitting cross-legged amidst the mountain of all the clothes that I own.

“Sof, I need you to change this song, it keeps replaying. I wanna listen to Night Changes, not Kiss You.” 

I take full responsibility for introducing Isabella to the best boyband ever, (yes, it is my subjective opinion but also it's a fact, get over it) when she was seven. It’s been three years yet she loves that band to death. Her side of the twins’ room, like any other fangirl, is filled to the brim with 1D merchandise; from her school bag, and pencil pouch to the spoon that she uses for cereal, she has been obsessed with those boys and I, for one, am ecstatic since I can sing along to One Direction in the car when I pick her up from school when Alejandra side-eyes both of us. 

Both Isabella and Alejandra are ten now so my ma and pa are very stringent on using mobile phones or even any electronic devices. Isabella and Ajendra have second-hand walkmans that they can listen to music with headphones for 2 hours, (they can blast music on speakerphone anytime but my ma fears that they may get deaf by twenty-five if they excessively use headphones). Other than that, they can use a common laptop for one hour for “entertainment” purposes and only and only if they finish homework. Theo is sixteen now and so shamelessly uses the excuse “Pa, my homework is in the laptop, so just get me a new one” Well, he got a laptop but again, a secondhand one. We haven’t got the funds to buy him a new one but Theo was happy with what he got. 

Isabella is not as tech-savvy as Alejandra and Alejandra has probably run to the neighbor’s house to do quilling with Brianna, her best friend. Alejandra is the “people’s princess” and befriends people in seconds; she is an extrovert to the core and spends her time folding colored papers into cranes and other crafty shapes, quilling, and being a Girl Scout. Meanwhile, Isabella is not as boisterous as my other sister; sure she is also pretty friendly and has a tight friend circle of five (I don’t even have that many people to call as “friends”) but sometimes she just likes to blast One Direction and Taylor Swift on full sound, dote on my parents, Theo and mainly me; and read books. But obviously, Alejandra is her favorite person in the world; after all, she is her twin. However, being #2 in her favorite list (I love it when she bashfully smiles and says “I love you all” when we joke about who’s her favorite) means she just likes to barge into my room when she’s bored or is confused about her walkman not working. Or sometimes she just comes into my room with the most random questions, expecting an answer from me when I am deadbeat from work.

“Sofi, where do fish go when they die in the sea?”

“Sofi, I wanna go to the big place in my  geography book where there’s so much snow and bears that look white” (she’s talking about the Arctic and the polar bear by the way)

“Sof, why do people call taco, “taco?” (this question haunted me for nights cause same)

But I love to sit and answer her questions as much as I can since I know that time runs as fast as light does and I may regret not spending time with my siblings when they’re scrolling through TikTok ten years later and go non-verbal when I ask them, “How’s life?”. 

The kook kids that I see at the restaurant in the country club make me feel scared for the sake of humanity, let me tell you. Unavailable parents combined with unfettered access to all the riches in the world, I feel so bad for those kids who try to fill the void their parents create but then they get rude with the waiters, and then I immediately lose my shred of empathy for them. 

“Oh, Isa. Gimme your walkman. You probably might have clicked the replay button. Lemme disable it.”

Her hands tenderly gave me her device, the edges of the walkman smudged, losing its nude pink color. The harsh white light of the screen hurt my eyes for a second as I changed the settings in her Walkman, her chin resting gingerly on my shoulder. As I fidgeted to give her device back, she took a once over to my another possible outfit for the party; a spaghetti strap baby blue slip dress, flowery lace patterns stitched at the hem; the scooped up neckline accentuating my decolletage. 

“Sofi, where are you all dressed up and going?”

I am going to a guy’s party to probably drink myself to the point of no return or flirting back at him while he just ends up hooking up with some other hot Kook. 

“Oh, just to see a friend”

“Well, I hope you have fun, Sofia. I never see you going out that much since you came home from Mexico” her innocent voice airing out the pathetic state of my social life

Gosh, that’s a low blow and, that’s coming from a kid. 

I knew her comment was innocent so I had to be the bigger person and say, “I will, thank you, Isa. By the way, stop clicking that button if you wanna listen to the whole playlist” It’s not she’s never been given a phone at all but the big sister part of me can’t help it. 

Still, she listened and shook her head vehemently, “THANK YOU SOFI, YOU THE BEST” she screamed as ran back to her room. 

Kids. 

My attention went back to the task at hand as I helplessly stared at the gargantuan pile of dresses, hoping that an impeccable, show-stopping outfit would just magically appear out of thin air. 

Should I just call Rafe and tell him that I am not coming to the party because I have periods…which I don’t. 

I can just dip out of this very rare occasion of me socializing with people and I can spend my weekend like any other, munching on Takis as I watch YouTube compilations of ballerina dancers or a movie on an illegal website and, pester my ma as she cooks dinner at night and then I crash out on the bed, pensively contemplating about what could have been, should have been. 

Or maybe I could face the music, stop feeling sorry for myself, and, go see Rafe at his party and try being a normal twenty-year-old girl, chat up a pretty boy, try to get sloshed, and maybe dip my toes in his pristine pool that he totally has. And maybe, maybe he’ll keep his word and be my tour guide and show me this “spot” that he was raving about. 

Most importantly I am slightly enamored by his overall demeanor, the air of casual indifference seeping with his mysterious, almost quizzical lore surrounding him rendered me curious. The two times we met, the aquamarine-eyed boy’s ridiculous charm and, smiles and sugary words made me dissolve my barely-existing conscience. 

Screw it, I am going to see what’s all the hype about a Kook party. 

And the fact that I even thought of telling practically a stranger that I have periods…I gotta get better at being a socially functional human. 

So with all the strength I had, I bundled all the clothes lying on my bed and crammed them into the unkempt wooden cupboard which already looked like it survived a hurricane with all of my underwear mixed with my work uniform with my other old clothes. As I closed it with my back facing the cupboard, my eyes caught the makeup box half opened on my vanity, the various shades of blushes, lip stains, and the half-finished concealer tube taunting my mind. 

I walked over to the mirror, my eyes catching every blemish and dull spot on my face. There’s a new minute red spot on the apple of my cheeks and the crease underneath my eye is more prominent. 

Ugh, why do my eyes always linger on the faults and why do I always wanna cover up the imperfections with caked-up makeup till the point that my tears wash away all the hard brushing I do over my face every day when I go to work? 

I wish I would have said I didn’t let my insecurities win over my heart but my fingers grabbed the cherry red lip stain and, slathered it along my chapped lips and then fluffed the excess on my cheeks, hoping that the blush would cover my blemishes. 

Ok, now I look…presentable. I twirled myself in front of the mirror, giving a final look at my ensemble, hoping that I wouldn’t change my outfit again. I took my brush combed the unkempt baby hairs and left my room, hastily climbing down the stairs, hoping that I wouldn’t regret the decision to say yes to Rafe Cameron’s party tomorrow.

That’s when I remembered. I forgot my phone and my purse. 

Yikes. We are off to a good start. 

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

A few hours ago, I promised myself that I absolutely wouldn’t change my dress, right?

That was a lie. I changed my mind and wore another dress. 

As I took a peek of myself in the car mirror, I thought to myself for the millionth time, “How the hell did I end up here?”

My blue dress was replaced by a breezy coral red dress reaching up to the flesh of my thighs, the fabric littered with pink, orange, and yellow floral prints all over it. My red colored bra was playing peek-a-boo underneath the outfit, making my insides feel pretty sheepish. My makeup and hair were completely frazzled now, stray hairs having a party over my forehead and the lip stain lost its magic, leaving me with a very light pinkish-red hue on my lips. My blush was completely smudged off with a bare face and my mind spinning in excitement and anxiety, 

As I parked my car over the spacious parking space adjacent to the lush gardens with trimmed grass and perfectly cut trees, I hoped that I didn’t look like my jaw was on the floor as I gawked at this mansion of a “house” 

Goddamn, this guy’s place looks massive. 

Tannyhill, in all its glory, stood tall and huge. With a capacious balcony and mint green paint radiating sunlight, the mansion screamed wealth and old money. I grabbed my purse tight as I leisurely walked into Rafe’s supposed “home,” hoping that I bump into him. I was in awe as I went in, the interior baffling me more. High ceilings, a chandelier with twinkling glass beads twinkling in the sun, a grand staircase with thick white marble railings in the middle, and a large wooden table in the center of the room with a large fireplace at one corner, the furnished shelf above it housing a plethora of photo frames. 

The house was packed too, unknown faces crowding my view as they walked into the house with beers or solo red cups on their faces, bikini-clad bodies shimmying their hips and bobbing their head to Young Thug rapping on the enormous JBL speakers situated at one of the corners of the massive room. 

I drudged around the crowd, too situate myself near the fireplace where the photos were there. Before I walked over to silently snoop at them, I felt a towering presence behind me. 

“See something you like, Miss Sofia?”

I turned around at lightning speed, his baritone tone made me spin and there he was, the man of the hour, Rafe Cameron walking down the stairs, hands in his cornflower blue trousers and beige polo shirt, gold-lined aviators hiding those cheeky eyes and that smug smirk gracing his berry lips. 

“Oh, I was just looking around, I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“Nah, you’re fine. I’m actually surprised that you showed up” he stood in front of me, his looming energy enveloping my vicinity. 

“Well, I’m not the one for turning down polite offers. And I wanna see for myself how you party, so…” I wanted to thank him for inviting him but I stopped myself short. If we are going to play this back-and-forth game of flirty comments, he better start the serve. 

“Now that you are here, lemme show you how we actually do things in Outer Banks. Follow me,” he beckoned me to join him as his long legs led me upstairs, my feet trying to catch up with his speed. The first floor looked more grand if that even makes sense. The walls were adorned with hand-painted lush flora, green leaves, and blue hydrangeas, and another smaller chandelier hanging in the middle of the room that led to the balcony on one side and four other rooms on the other. 

We both crossed the threshold, now with a solo cup in my right hand as he turned towards me and said, “Now if you kindly follow Miss Sofia, the VIP Section.” he pointed towards the huge balcony overlooking the sea, two big brown sofas encircling a round table and multiple white chairs littering the area. It was so spacious that it could fit a party of thirty on that singular floor. 

“Oh yeah.” 

“Yeah, only very very very special people are allowed in here, as you can see,” he said as he put his hands on my shoulder and in turn, made my legs and arms into jelly. 

 He just casually put his hands on my shoulder and I just want to faint. 

I could have just let my hands go limp but no, instinctually my arms went up to his clothed, chiseled shoulder blades, and smirked at his shameless flirting. 

“Uh huh…” I shot back a teasing smile as I looked up at him.

He led me to the wooden railing; the view in front of me taking my breath away again. A horde of partygoers were just swaying to Drake booming on another speaker on the veranda down below with the DJ throwing random signs at the crowd, and a spotless beach situated just a few meters in front of the colonial mansion. Rafe caging me on one arm, pointed his other hand holding a solo red cup like me, toward the line of trees, its leaves crowning like it was the entrance of a fairyland, azure waters, frothy white waves jumping from a faraway distance. The golden ring, with some indescribable engraving, glimmered as he showed me around his place. 

I was nearly smushed to his chest as he said, “As you can see, there’s the water,” I, too, looked around towards the directions he pointed as he continued, “Then there’s the beach. The next neighbor lives like a mile away from mine, it’s that private.”

Then his eyes went to the ongoing raucous at the party and he howled at the party under the balcony. He looked like he was having the time of his life, with everyone hollering at him, calling his name, and high-fiving him before we even reached upstairs minutes ago. Rafe Cameron seemed he was holding the world in his hands and I was witnessing it. 

“Hey, that’s no Jim Beam Bullshit, alright. That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a day’s salary bro. AND IF YOU HAVEN’T GOT A DRINK IN YOUR HAND, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE” 

I can’t help but openly laugh at his caveman-esque antics. Rafe was buzzed from alcohol and a flush to his cheeks. His hands were off of me now, leaving a gaping space that I never thought I felt before and then he took off his sunglasses and threw another smirk at me as he took off his sunglasses and slinked them on the collar of his polo.

I couldn’t help but say, “So, this is the VIP life, huh?”

His smile was soft as he said, “Yeah”

“Cool.”

We just looked at each other 

“You wanna see some more?” he suggested. He’s all in for being my gracious host today, isn’t he? I didn’t wanna leave him and his infectious company so I was completely fine with him taking anywhere with me. 

“Yeah, I’m down.” 

His hands found purchase on my body once again as he said, “GREAT NEWS! THAT’S GREAT NEWS. Lemme show you the grand tour.” As we both started leaving the crowded room, a flash of blue nylon appeared on our side, stopping us.

“Don’t go runnin’” a buzz-cut man with harsh brown eyes and blue sneakers mentioned towards Rafe. He abruptly stopped for a minute and let go of me, now gently placing his hands on my shoulders. 

“Hey, give me five minutes, I’ll come see you soon.”

I didn’t want to seem like a clingy pest but I was slightly down that our plans were cut off. 

Stop it, Sofia. It’s only five minutes. Calm down, geez.

I played it safe and just said, “Okay.”

Both men now wore taut expressions as I walked out of the place, but then I heard the other guy screaming, “COUNTRY CLUB!!!”

Feeling explorative, my feet carried me downstairs to the veranda, planning to scout around the party as well as the mansion. They were playing Playboy Carti now, and everyone was slurring their words as the partygoers were all absolutely sloshed or probably coked up or high and it was only 6:30 pm.

Dazed and confused, I saw a girl eating Cool Ranch Doritos in the middle of the dancefloor, bobbing her head as the bass hit her eardrums. 

Now that’s something I can vibe with. 

If I am stuck in a party where I don’t know anyone but the host, might as well have some fun alone I guess. Fun, meaning finding the pantry or snack stash. 

This is going to be a long day.

**********

I’m on my second pack of family-sized Red Hot Cheetos. And still on my first can of some random root beer. 

And, I think most of the people here are mentally floating in some other dimension while I am observing them like some scientist but with toxic red dust on my chin. 

It’s 8 pm. 

Why am I still here, you may ask? Well, it was not like I was completely alone for an hour and a half, Rafe checked in on me every twenty minutes while I was sitting cross-legged on his kitchen counter. He actually came back ten minutes after I left him on the balcony 

“Look who found the secret snack drawer.”

I indeed raided it just two minutes after going downstairs. 

“Oh, is it ok? I don’t drink that much, not when I am alone at a party and don’t know anyone.”

“Yeah, go for it. Hey, I wanna apologize if I don’t stay with you at the party. I really want to but I-” he got cut off by another random person coming up at him and bumping chests with him, “HEYY RAFEE, MAN YOU’RE BACK!” 

His attention diverted to the person in front of him but, his eyes stayed with me, apologetic as he got dragged again by that bleached blonde head who was accompanied by a throng of men who nearly trampled and took him away somewhere else. 

That was an hour ago. He did try his best to come up to me once in a while but in a minute, he got approached by someone and he would bare his teeth for a minute and then switch up to greet them and then get yanked by his Kook friends. However, his vision was always on me even when he was knee-deep in another conversation, both of us playing a silent game of who would peel off their gaze first and, both of us were not backing down. We were both like two ends of a rubber band stretching out incessantly, anticipating when the band would snap, the tension creeping up over Rafe and me. 

I was actually planning to leave fifteen minutes ago but, then Rafe came up to me, trudging through the horde of people across the room, panting and all, eyes glossier than ever, and rushed over his words, “Hey, I am so sorry that I didn’t spend enough time with you when I literally invited you. Just give me…fifteen minutes. I promise I’ll come back and really show the place around and, be with you.” 

He looked so desperate that I couldn’t help but say, “Ok, I’ll wait. But it’s ok. I’ll leave if you are busy, clearly, you seem like the life of the party. And I don’t wanna impose…”

“No! Please, I…I’ll be back. Just stand here and look pretty like you have been doing for the past hour.”

Now, I’m here, hoping that he keeps his word or otherwise, I’m leaving in five minutes. 

I sipped on my root beer; my feet dangling on the counter. If I am leaving without having fun, I’m at least taking this pack of root beer for funsies.

But as per his words, I saw Rafe stroll in my direction with a whiskey glass in his hand; all his attention centered on me. Once again, I felt bashful under his piercing gaze. 

“Finally,” he breathed out, “now…where were we?” he downed his drink in one long gulp.

“I don’t know, it’s your rave, Mister Cameron”

“Well then, I promised you to show you around, right? Before that, let’s have a toast, shall we? Since it’s a party and all,” he maneuvered around the tight space; and took a tequila bottle and two shot glasses from the top shelf above the counter without even trying, his height towering over my relatively shot frame. His biceps bulged as he held the bottle poured two shots into the glasses and offered it to me while sporting a small smile. 

My mind is spinning in circles over his tall frame. And I haven’t even gotten drunk yet. 

He was near me now, his hands inviting me to get off the counter and I took it, the ground underneath me withering for the third time today as he held his hands in mine. His hands felt comfortably warm in contrast to my ice-cold ones. 

“Bottoms up, Miss Sofia"

I was heavily invested in his game now, his risque charm pulling me in at a dangerous speed. 

“Bottoms up, Rafe” We both clinked our glasses, downing our drinks in one go at the same time. 

Game on, I guess. 

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

I lost count of how many shots of neat tequila I had, how many lime wedges my teeth bit into, or even the consecutive gulps of gin I guzzled. All I can comprehend is the calloused fingers digging into my hips as my body is glued against Rafe Cameron who, indeed gave an extensive tour of the house but my conscience was all up in the air. He took me to every room of the mansion and gave a one-line description of each room but I was invested in his booming voice, the way his eyes glimmered underneath the soft lights (which were hurting my eye now, cuz I am so close to getting pissed as hell) and the way he never let go of my hands.  All I did was nod vigorously and throw in some flyaway comments like, “That’s nice,” and “Hmm…interesting.”

We were on the dance floor now, the DJ blasting “Often” by the Weekend, and, both of us stood at arm's length, our inebriated bodies slowly staggering to the beat. The sober me would have been appalled of me throwing my head back and staggering from side to side but here I am, dancing my heart out with Rafe watching me over like a hawk. His eyes were piercing as he stood with a red solo cup, looking at me like he was ready to pounce on me. And I was enthralled by the attention he was showering on me. 

Fuck, for the first time in my life, my twisted heart is carnally desiring something. 

At one point, the minuscule distance between us was reduced to nothing, as he tugged my tipsy self to his chest, his arms seizing my waist and we both started to sway to the sultry beat drops, basically grinding on each other. My arms crept up to his nape, my head discovering my latest favorite place to rest; his chiseled, clothed chest. Air became precious when I could hear our breaths blend in, our chests heaving in insurmountable tension. 

His voice shook me to my core as he deliberately whispered in my ear, “Do you wanna go swimming in the pool?”

No, I want to keep feeling your skin on mine but I was too stunned to say no to his out-of-the-blue proposition. 

“Yeah, ok,” I murmured like no one was present when the party was going on in full swing

I thought I would wobble my way to the pool outside but Rafe Cameron had other plans. 

Effortlessly, he picked me up by my waist and placed me in my his arms. 

Not just anyway. 

Bridal style. 

I was being carried by Rafe Cameron bridal style. 

If I didn’t faint then, I was going to fall into an unshakable stupor now.

My heart weighed as a cloud; his hold on my body was light as a feather. My body softly thudded with each step he took toward the glimmering swimming pool and with it, my adrenaline slowly spiked. My back could feel the chlorine emanating from the water as Rafe neared the pool, his face reflecting the scintillated shine; cerulean blue eyes turning aquamarine in the warm July night. He let me down gently near the steel steps directed towards the pool; the cold tiled floor causing shivers in my feet. 

With no time to waste, he peeled off his polo shirt leaving me no imagination of his sculpted chest; abs chiseled and, a prominent V-line trailing over his limbs. 

Holy smokes. 

“Like what you see, Miss Sofia”

“I’ll let you know later, Cameron,” I shot back as I bared off my excuse of a dress, leaving me with my red bikini. Rafe who witnessed me taking off my clothes in the most unsexy fashion shamelessly stared at me, wandering eyes trying to capture every part of my body.

“Now do you like what you see, Rafe?”

“Very much”

Fuck, he ain’t slick. 

“So what now?”

“Now,” he took a once over at the pool and started to run towards it, body curling into a cannonball as he went airborne and hit the water with a big SPLASH, “we swim. I thought that was obvious, Miss Sofia. I wanted to show you the beach but hey, we both are way too tired to walk till there and swim so why not bring the beach experience, here?”

I just shook my head from side to side, drunkenly giggling and went near the stairs to go into the pool, Rafe also swimming along with me. As I climbed down into the chill waters, Rafe rushed towards me, grabbed my hands, and pulled me into his side for the second time tonight. His body felt warm against the cold swimming pool. My arms found home in his nape again, my nimble fingers softly grasping on the matted buzzcut. A tingly sensation flared up on the inside of my thighs and my heart. 

Space was a foreign concept between us as we both clung to each other, Rafe holding me by the flesh of my thighs and hoisting me up to his level. I was putty in his hands, both of our bodies floating in some random flow like two leaves gliding in a river. 

“So, how was the premium Rafe Cameron experience?”

“It was satisfying, to say the least. But I wish the host was more sober…”

“Heyy…”

“Kidding, kidding. No, but really, thank you, Rafe. This is the most fun I have ever had in a very very long time.”

I have never seen him smile that shyly, eyes downcast as he said, “Well, I’m glad to tell you that the fun has just started, Miss Sofia…” he let go of me as he had a sinister look in his eye.

“What are you scheming…Rafe…”

“Oh…nothing,” his lips turned into an upward chuckle as he started to push the water in my direction with all his might and splashed it in my direction, the buoyancy of the water making me lose my balance; and I slipped into the water. 

“AHHH! RAFE, YOU SNEAK!” 

“HAHA,” his cackle cut through the combined hum of the party as well as the silent night. I staggered for a moment and held my breath for a moment inside the pool.

If he wants to play with me, might as well give him a run for his money.

He caught on to my disappearance and panic slightly flooded his features. I felt the water sloshing as Rafe looked around, silently called me, “Sof, you ok? Hey, Sof. SOFIAAA…”

Poor guy must have thought I drowned or something. Well, I might if I keep staying like this for a few more seconds, 

I rose out of the water, my bangs completely drenched and my face splotched red as I took deep breaths and tackled him, the water swishing in ripples as I latched onto his body. 

“BOO!”

“JESUS SOF, My God, I thought you drowned or something.”

Worry was etched onto his face now, regret filling into those eyes that I can’t stop thinking about for no reason at all. I felt bad now and immediately cradled his head, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you properly, ok. I just wanted to get back at you for splashing water at me. I’m ok, Rafe.”

“Well, don’t do it again, ok”

Fuck, I ruined the mood. Sometimes, I wonder if there’s another nameless entity in my brain forging the most horrible decisions ever. 

I snaked my arms around him, hoping that my hug would at least emulate my regret. He didn’t hesitate to hug me back, his arms imprisoning me in a sweet deadlock. We stayed in that position for a few minutes, nothing but silence speaking our thoughts out into the ether. As much as I loved being intertwined with the blonde who had been afflicting my dreams, I started to shrivel from the freezing cold pool water and let out a small ACHOO. 

He was the one who pulled away, noting my incessant shivering and pruning body, “Come on, we should leave. Shit, you’re trembling.”

We both waggled our way back to the edge of the pool and got up the stairs, aware that Rafe ogled at my drenched body as I left the pool. The bikini lost its opaqueness, the translucent flimsy red material sticking on my body like second skin. He got out of the pool after me, head dripping with water but held a burning fire in his eyes. Rafe wasted no time and began rushing me inside the mansion through the backdoor; I was worried that I would be exposing my body to a bunch of drunk teenagers. However, Rafe quelled my rising insecurities when he snatched his polo shirt and draped it on me when we reached the threshold, quietly putting my hands on the sleeve holes of his shirt. My skin burned whenever he touched, making me shiver in heat. 

“I have some towels in my room, dry yourself off,” he muttered as he took me in the direction of the staircase, bypassing the party which was slowly dwindling down, the DJ playing a very random song in some unknown language and only a few people littering the living space, slowly sipping on alcohol, the stench of weed and cigarette infiltrating my nostrils.

We entered a peacock-blue room up the stairs, a massive bed with a long mahogany bedframe  occupying the space front and center, lustrous teal blue sheets covering the pristine crisp white bed springs. The sofa and chairs was cluttered with clothes and other stuff and a tall sliding door situated right infront of the bed hidden by coffee-colored curtains with a bathroom attached to its left. 

As he shut the door, leaving only the two of us in the confined space; breathing itself became a chore, my lungs caving in and heart thrumming with anticipation and pure desire. I was standing near his wooden drawer as he went in to the bathroom to get two towels. The stretch of the rubber band felt excruciatingly painful; the tension melting my soul every second. My thoughts started to jumble into one mess that craved for his touch on me, my mind wanting him to cross the distance and end my arduous yearning for a kiss from his lips or even, a graze from his hands. His stormy eyes and alluring body rounded on me as he ambled towards me, his walk having a sure purpose; two cotton towels on his hand. His presence cornered me, my back hitting the drawer. I can sense his body heat radiating off of him, the mix of his perfume and natural musk making me heady with want. 

He gingerly gave me the towel, my hands sizzling with current as my hands lightly grazed his. We both looked into each other, square in the eye as we started to dry our bodies by ourselves. I threw the towel on my hair, feeling the dampness of my chlorinated hair transfer onto the soft towel and slowly rung my hair on the towelletel; my vision cut off by the piece of cotton blocking my eyes. When I felt sure that my hair was more-or-less semi dry, I took off the towel from my head and found Rafe heavily breathing down on me, his angled nose nearly plunging into my hair. 

It felt like life rolled in slow motion as he threw the cloth away from my hands, and put his hands on the door behind me. Rafe’s voice purred in my ear as he said, “You look so pretty, Sofia. Fuck, I can’t stop looking at you all night,” he breathed into my hair as he spoke, “You even smell good, you know how hard it was for me to focus on other shit when all I think about was you in those little white bra and panties with the bow. It’s all I have been thinking about since yesterday with kissing you senseless, and fuck, I can’t even erase the memory of you in your uniform. ”

I looked upto him and saw that his eyes were feasting on my picked on lips, my breasts with his digits digging into the flesh of my hips. I was stupefied too; I couldn’t stop memorising every detail of him; the curve of his Adam’s apple, the defined planes of his face, the sharp ears, the matted blonde strands of his buzzcut, the small freckle under his left eye and those eyes. 

Those cereaulean blue eyes glimmering like sapphire; I knew from that moment that they wouldn’t stop haunting me till I am dragged down to my casket. 

I couldn’t even slip out a coherent sentence to his confession but my heart was on fire, but all I could muster was, “Rafe?”

“Hmm,” his voiced with laced with pain as he spoke to me. 

I knew that this was the moment that my life was going to change forever. 

I felt possessed as I said, “Can you kiss me, please, Rafe? I want to stop playing this game.”

The rubber band snapped and recoiled. 

“Thought you would never ask, Miss Sofia” 

Inches of space got reduced to nothing as he crashed his lips onto mine; his mouth lapping mine up with urgent fervor almost as he was worshipping me by pressing his lips on mine with undulated passion. The kiss felt earth shattering, the earth beneath me felt like it was going to break into pieces and take me away and Rafe’s lips and wandering hands were the only thing keeping me sane and tethered to reality. His lips swallowed my mouth, pouring all his fervor onto me, and my lips couldn’t get enough; chasing his lips like we’re both running from a disaster.  The world went utterly still with only the sounds of  our kiss, hands cradling each other hips and heads and mouths nearly gnawing each other with such intensity and devotion. 

I never thought kissing someone would feel heavenly. Well, I wish I told that girl I was about to get my world rocked by Rafe Cameron. 

Forever. 

AN:

My brain and my fingers after typing this chapter:

FINALLY DUN DUN DUN! THEY KISSED. YK WHAT IT MEANS FOR NEXT CHAPTER, your girl is going to try writing mid ass smut...Pls dont stone me to death for this chapter, the next one and the futures ones too.

THE AMOUNT OF LOVE YOU GUYS GIVE ME IS AMAZINGGG. KISSES TO EACH SINGLE ONE OF YOU. MWAHHH. Any comments or likes or reblogs are absolutely appreciated.

The next update...I genuinely don't know when it's happening but I am always thinking about this story so hopefully within this month.

Hope you guys have a good new yearr...BYEEEE

Taglist:

@lostsyren @araybiaaa @cherubfille @didddii589 @popou61 @rafecameronsfavourite @rafesofiapalomo @me-ig1 @beautyinsteadofashes

[raisedbythetv89]

Ok ooooook OK SO.

Spike was literally made for Buffy because he was made for and by Drusilla, and Buffy and Dru are the same person:

Innocent, kind-hearted young girls, with special gifts that cause them to carry more guilt/burden than others and they are used/abused/traumatized by angelus/angel, then neglected and abandoned, with Spike being there to pick up the pieces and nurture, care for, and love them the best he can to help them move past their angel trauma (which is actually an impossible task with Drusilla because of the sire aspect but isn’t with Buffy)

WHICH is why I believe William’s first act as a vampire was to try and save his mother. He was literally created to be Dru’s knight. Not only her protector but her healer. Which is why his first instinct when it should be all about blood lust is instead, to heal his mother who he still loves even as a vampire. I mean even Dru, a certified nutcase, is like you wanna do WHAT?!?! When Spike tells her his plan to save his mom😹

This is also why I believe angel trying to mold Spike into his image never really took or rather Spike was able to break free from it. Angel was created by darla for the intent of death, torment and destruction.

Spike was created to care for and love Dru. Which required an OBSCENE amount of patience, determination, humility, and love of a challenge. Which is why he was so intrigued by slayers, another seemingly impossible task - but the joy/fun was in the TRYING, the thrill of the unknown and the unpredictability of it all. Which are all the traits he needed to be there for both Dru and Buffy while also ensuring he never gives up on them as long as they want him there, and then some lol.

IM FREAKING OUT ABOUT THIS

Because also this is soooooo not where I planned on going with this but “I was made to love you” episode title is now drawing in the connection of, is this why Spike didn’t initially see the problem with the Buffy-Bot until he saw the reaction of Buffy herself who often acts as his moral compass as he relearns what is “good” after 100+ years living by vamp code because him AS A HUMAN, in his vulnerable, dejected and devastated state was killed and made into a vampire for the sole purpose of loving and caring for Drusilla selflessly, without regard for himself, much like the bots were!! So why would he see the harm in creating something like that for himself when no one was going to die in the process and it meant he could stop fixating in the real buffy? Both of which to a vamp who’s only been trying to live by human morals again for like 14 episodes vs 120 years with NO help just trial and erroring his way through becoming a white hat which his starting point is “I would like credit for not taking advantage of bleeding disaster victims” and “what do you mean building a shrine to show how deep my devotion is and chaining you up, offering to kill my ex, and forcing you to talk to me and admit your feelings aren’t the way to do this??” 😹😹😹 like he gets it so wrong, it’s comical in season 5 because he truly is so earnest about all of it because while yes it is all for a chance with Buffy, he genuinely wants to be better for her so he can earn that chance. As he says to Riley “a fellas gotta try” after saying he doesn’t think he has a chance with her.

He was an Eleanore who desperately needed his Chidi. Which Buffy is his moral compass but she ends up being a “let them fail/push them into the deep end” kind of guide. So he makes A LOT of mistakes along the way as many of us often do in general but especially those of us who were raised by abusive parents; who in our adulthood, have to learn to discern what is healthy vs abusive to be a good person to both yourself and others and be in actual healthy relationships with boundaries and respect with zero practical experience or good instincts to go on.

NONE of this excuses any harm that Spike causes at all. That is not the point of this to say “oh he didn’t really do bad”, no he did. Spike caused a lot of harm but this perspective that I’ve finally been able to put into words is why none of the harm ends up being a deal breaker for me and many spuffys because it puts his choices in the right perspective which is not that of a human even though he looks like one a lot of the time.

Spike pre-soul, making the mistakes he makes isn’t the same as a human or a vamp with a human soul making the mistakes because he doesn’t have his human soul motivating and informing the decisions he makes. It really mimics different cultures in a lot of ways as anya really demonstrates during her wedding with all her talk of demon culture and tradition (and her own struggles to assimilate into the human world again and she HAS a human soul and xander to help her) and the initiative being VERY n*zi coded and Riley being called a bigot because he is ignorant to much of demonology. So un-souled spike has a more potential for forgiveness of his mistakes than human soul havers because he is always genuinely TRYING to do right by Buffy even when he gets it horribly wrong. And the characters in the show always hold him accountable and make him feel TERRIBLE for the mistakes he makes.

Why does he have such potential for forgiveness you ask? The best example is to think of the concept of someone trying to assimilate themselves into a new culture. We can’t expect them to blend right in perfectly and get all the culture norms right, right away (again -anya-but also a real life example - when I travel in Italy and catch up with friends there I STILL always stumble and forget they’re always gonna go in for a double cheek kiss greeting - pre covid anyway - and I KNOW it’s a thing but if I’m out of practice it takes me a while to start greeting people that way again and it makes for some AWKWARD ENCOUNTERS until I get it down😹). It takes time, and normally guidance and patience from others that spike honestly doesn’t often have except in the form of being yelled at or beat up until he gets his soul. But his willingness to TRY anyways despite failure, rejection, ridicule and cruelty. How can I not love him?? He is me, I am him!! I was also met with so much unhelpful criticism and cruelty when I was just trying to learn and do a good job.

Both as someone who is autistic and didn’t know it for a lot of life; I too felt like I was blundering through without a guide or a rule book and I was sure I was making mistakes because people would get upset but I had NO help identifying what exactly I did wrong or what to do instead. So I knew I was messing up but had to keep guessing and trying anyway and getting it wrong again and again!

And as someone raised by an emotionally distant/abusive narcissist, navigating healthy relationships became even MORE difficult and I made a lot of bad choices along the way that landed me in some awful relationships much like what spike and Buffy devolve into towards the end of season 6 because both of them are up stream without a paddle when it comes to healthy relationships, healthy coping mechanisms, and communication. They know pain, avoidance, fighting, torment, and ecstasy from always living in extremes and life or death situations (notice Buffy struggles the most in the season with no threat of the apocalypse until the last two episodes - season 6 - which is SO common for people with trauma, you really fall apart when things are low stakes)

It’s why the tenderness and gentleness of season 7 means SO MUCH. Both of them experiencing these tiny pockets of true peace with each other after everything they’ve been through individually and together. Experiencing true peace like we see from them is one of the hardest things to accomplish if you have severe trauma.

I’m always really happy when I can digest these complex themes enough to communicate why I love them so much and why they’re so important to me. The fact that this show had so much in-fighting amongst the writers and misogynists trying to make spike pathetic and accidentally making him one of the most complex characters, plus episodes based specifically on neurodivergent/queer peoples’ traumatic coming of age experiences because the parallels are SO strong there no way they’re not lol. This all means I can probably spend the rest of my life dissecting the layers of this show and learning about myself in the process and always find something new 🙃🙃🙃 and clearly I love all aspects of spuffy so god damn much as they each embody a big part of my life experiences in so many beautiful yet tragic ways.