#[ 🎸 ] ; headcanons

[slut4sugu]

— ATTRACTIVE THINGS THEY DO ! [𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜] 𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐄!1610𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

Including: aged up!characters, suggestiveness in Hobies, 42!Miles

Genre: Fluff/suggestive material

— 1610!MILES

Calls you princesa when hes calming you down

Miles is an absolute sweetheart and hates seeing you upset, so whenever you are he sits you down and pulls you onto his lap (not in a suggestive wayyy) and kisses your forehead, while cupping your face with both hands. A smile tugging at his lips after pulling back and feeling your arms go to wrap around his torso and rest your head on his shoulder blade. His touch immediately calming you down, and feeling slightly sleepy in his embrace. “Feel better princesa?” Your slight nod doesn’t suffice and tickles the side of your torso causing you to erupt into giggles. “Okay okay! I feel better baby.” You heart warms at the sound of his laughter as you squirmed at his attacks of tickles. “Good, now just relax I’m here for you.”

— HOBIE BROWN

Keeps eye contact with you at all times & checks you out while talking

You could be talking on and on about your day at work, so lost in retelling the events that occurred you didn’t even notice hobie checking out your breasts in the v-neck shirt you had changed into after work. Hobie wasn’t completely distracted he always listens to you, but he definetly was thinking about other things in the brief moments he stared at your boobs. “Honestly we all knew they were making out in the closet but-“ You paused, causing hobbies eyes to look up at yours as if asking why you stopped. “Babe are you listening?” He hummed in response, now his eyes locked onto yours. Which caused you to stutter occasionally while recounting the incident, which made hobie smirk. “Thought you wanted me to pay attention sweets.” You rolled your eyes, despite the slight nervousness and excitement you felt just by feeling his low gaze on you.

— 42!MILES

Keeps a hand on your upper thigh & inner while driving

You know how miles is when it comes to you, so you’ve both grown used to him touching you almost all the time. It’s comforting for you, but comfort can easily turn into something else when miles is sliding his hand more up and between your legs. Causing your already short skirt to drive up, “Baby what are you doin-“ “You want me to stop mami?” He asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye. Hesitated though you loved the feeling of his hands so close to your core. You shook your head briefly before getting an eyebrow raise from your boyfriend, causing your gaze drop to your lap, your thighs subconsciously clamping shut due to the proximity of his hand and your heat. You let out a small and soft, “No.” in response. Which led to miles teasing and stimulating you with his touch all the way to to the restaurant.

[allisluv]

Finnick reacting to someone slutshaming reader in front of him🤭🤭 (it could be both about about clothes or body count)

-🎸

safe and sound

pairing: finnick o’dair x fem!reader

content warnings: slut shaming, finnick being protective, not edited, suggestive themes

word count: 726

"Here you go, honey," Finnick slides up beside you and hands you a glass of red wine. His hand lands on your lower back and he smooths his fingers over the bare skin that the slit in your dress exposes.

"Thanks," you murmur, pressing a chase kiss to his cheek. Red lipstick smudges onto his face and you lick your thumb, trying to rub it off his sun-kissed skin. Finnick smiles into his flask of champagne and you drop your hands to your hips. "What?"

"Nothing," Finnick mutters, pulling you snug into his side. "I just think you're cute, that's all, baby." He rests his chin on top of your head and leads you over to the food tables that are scattered strategically around the outskirts of the room.

You fall into step with your boyfriend, and he grabs your free hand with his own. He sets his drink down on the table, grabs two paper plates from the stack, and starts piling them high with an array of finger food.

You can feel a pair of eyes watching you, and when you angle your head to the side, you catch sight of two Capitol women staring you down. You shift uncomfortably and offer them a tight-lipped smile that freezes on your face when they start to whisper, making no effort to keep their voices quiet.

"Look at what she's wearing," one of them announces. "She looks like a slut. I bet she'd sleep with anything that has a pulse."

"I don't know how Finnick puts up with having her as a girlfriend," the second say through a laugh. "I mean, he has people queuing up around the block to go out with him and he settles for some... some, what? A common whore?"

The words feel like a slap to the face and suddenly, your dress feels far too revealing for your liking.

Finnick's always been in tune with your emotions, and as if he can sense you clamming up, he abandons his drink and food at the table. "What's wrong, honey?" he murmurs, intertwining his fingers with your own.

"See?" A loud, shrill voice cuts through the air. "She'd jump his bones without caring who's watching. What a tramp."

You can almost see Finnick brimming with anger and you grab hold of his suit-jacket, trying to pull him back and stop him from doing something he regrets, but he's far too strong for his own good.

"Finnick, leave it, please," you beg, tears brimming on your waterline. "It's fine, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter," Finnick insists, breaking free of your hold and charging towards the two women like a man on a mission. The two Capitolites wear smug smiles as he makes a beeline for them. "Hey!"

"Looks like someone finally came to their senses," one of them says.

"I beg your pardon?" Finnick clenches his jaw.

"I mean, you could have your pick of the litter. It's about time you open your eyes and see that you need someone more... classy."

"I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last woman alive," Finnick sneers. You slap a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh. "And if I hear you talking about my girlfriend like that again, you won't have to worry about sticking around that long, 'cause I'll kill you myself."

"You can't talk to me like that!" she scowls, face as white as printer paper.

"I just did," Finnick grabs you by the hand and leads you through the crowd that have formed to watch the infamous Finnick O'Dair rip a poor woman to shreds. He can see the headlines already, but he has tunnel vision when it comes to you, and he doesn't stop moving until the two of you are safe and sound in the hallway, where the dance music is muffled. "Are you okay?" He reaches up and cups your cheeks in his hands.

"I think that may have been the hottest thing I've ever seen," you blurt out honestly.

Finnick grins. "Hm, is that so?" His hands slide down to grip your hips and he leans forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Why don't you let me show you how hot I think you are?" You tilt your head to the side, a smile playing on your lips. "I like the sound of that."

[minhosbitterriver]

─── ⋆⋅☆ STEADY LOVE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ A collection of heartfelt stories where love finds its strength in gentle understanding, as partners navigate the world together with unwavering support and care for each other's unique needs.

𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 29 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so self-indulgent to write, so a very big thank you to my lovely 🍀 Anon for this request! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has AuDHD in each member's piece, mentions of bees as a special interest, descriptions of being burned out and struggling with change, some very slight ableism mentioned (not from any of the members), descriptions of overstimulation, mentions of stimming, terrible flirting, overall this is very much hurt + comfort, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

구건일 ── GOO GUNIL.

The day felt like it had conspired against Gunil, stretching itself out into an agonizing eternity, as if determined to sap every last bit of energy from him. Each second dragged on, the clock's hands moving at a snail's pace, mirroring the heaviness in his limbs. Finally, after what seemed like an endless rehearsal, an exhausted sigh escaped his lips, the sound barely noticeable amidst the hum of tired voices from his bandmates. With a practiced, almost mechanical motion, Gunil returned his well-worn drumsticks to their designated holder, a small nook on the wall that had become as familiar to him as his own reflection. The drumsticks settled into place with a soft click, the only sound in the practice room that had served as their second home. 

As his bandmates began to shuffle out, their movements sluggish, weighed down by the day’s efforts, Gunil barely registered the chorus of goodbyes. Jungsu’s voice cut through the haze, a final “see you tomorrow” accompanied by a wave before disappearing into the hallway. Gunil mustered a lazy half-smile, lifting his hand in a farewell that felt more like a reflex than a conscious action. The room, once alive with the pulse of their music, now felt eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the fatigue settling deep into his bones. He reached for his backpack, its weight pulling down on his tired shoulders, just as the sharp ring of his phone shattered the stillness.

The sudden sound jolted him, but when he saw your name on the screen, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the exhaustion, even if just a little. “I’m done rehearsing, love, I’ll be—” Gunil’s greeting was cut short by the unmistakable sound of your excited squeal. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart swelling with affection at the image of you practically vibrating with energy on the other end of the line.

“Goo, you have to come home as soon as you can!” Your voice was bright, almost bursting with excitement, and Gunil could easily imagine you doing your little wiggles of joy, the ones that always made his heart melt. 

“Yes, baby,” he replied, his tone gentle, hiding the weariness in his bones so as not to dampen your spirits. “I’ll be home in no time. What’s got you so excited?” 

As he turned off the lights in the now-quiet practice room, the faint clicking of your keyboard reached his ears. He pictured you perched at your desk, your laptop open before you, eyes wide with curiosity. The image made him smile. 

“I found this new video, and Goo, it is so cool! It's a swarm of Japanese honeybees defending their nest by slapping ants with their wings, but this one is honestly so fascinating because apparently, this colony got infected by the Varroa Destructor Mite — but they were still so aggressive against the ants and they won! Isn't that so cool? Oh, Goo, please hurry, you have to watch it!” 

Your words tumbled out in a rush, barely pausing for breath, your excitement making the details spill over each other in a joyous cascade. Gunil found himself chuckling softly, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to your passionate rambling. There was something so endearing about the way you got lost in your own world, especially when it came to bees. He could listen to you talk for hours, your voice animated and full of life, a stark contrast to the weariness that had settled over him.

He thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you had nervously explained your autism to him, worried that it might be too much, too different. But to Gunil, it was simply another beautiful facet of who you were, something that made him love you even more deeply. “That does sound very interesting, my love,” he said, trying to match your energy despite the exhaustion tugging at him. “I really can’t wait to watch it!”

The promise of coming home to you, to your bright, infectious enthusiasm, gave him the strength to push through the final stretch of his journey. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes, so hang tight,” he added, a smile in his voice as he ended the call. As he neared the apartment you shared, the sight of a family-owned flower shop caught his eye. 

Even through the fatigue, his gaze lingered on the blooms in the window, your favorite flowers standing out like a beacon. The thought of surprising you with them, especially when you were already so happy, sent a thrill through him. Without hesitation, he ducked into the shop, the sweet scent of fresh flowers wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. He selected a bouquet with care, imagining the way your eyes would light up when he walked through the door with them in hand.

The weight of the day began to lift as he paid for the flowers, the simple act of thinking about you bringing a renewed sense of energy. The thrill of coming home to you, your voice still echoing in his mind, made each step lighter. As he walked out of the shop, the bouquet cradled carefully in his arms, he felt the anticipation build, knowing that soon, he would be by your side, sharing in the simple, beautiful joy of being together.

김정수 ── KIM JUNGSU.

The corners of Jungsu’s lips tightened into a worried frown as he gently rapped on the door of your shared bedroom. Not waiting for an invitation, he nudged the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him was one of persistent discomfort. There you were, lying on your side of the bed, your expression etched with visible distress. Your laptop, casting a soft glow in the dim room, played the familiar episodes of your favorite show—one you had practically memorized through countless viewings meant to soothe your troubled emotions.

Jungsu let out a soft sigh, his concern growing with each passing moment. He stepped into the room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards your side of the bed. Perching himself on the edge, he settled into the space beside you, his presence both reassuring and tender. You kept your gaze fixed on the screen, as though it were the only refuge from the turmoil roiling within.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and unshared burdens. After a few moments, you finally turned your head to meet his gaze, a weary sigh escaping your lips. Jungsu’s heart ached at the sight of your frustration and weariness. “I ordered takeout,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm. “It’s your favorite.”

He noticed the fleeting flicker of interest in your eyes, a brief spark that was quickly extinguished as you turned back to the screen with a frown. “I don’t want to eat right now,” you murmured, your tone resolute and final, leaving no room for negotiation. The firmness of your refusal stung, and Jungsu could only nod in resignation. He sighed once more, his shoulders slumping slightly as he retreated from the room, leaving you to your solitude.

For nearly a week now, this had been your reality—an ongoing struggle that Jungsu could only partially grasp. Despite the year you had been together, he had never seen you like this before. He understood that adapting to sudden changes was particularly challenging for you, especially when they disrupted the routines that provided a semblance of stability. The day you had called him from work, sobbing uncontrollably while locked in the bathroom, was seared into his memory. You had told him about your old manager’s abrupt departure and the arrival of a new, unfamiliar face. The sudden shift was more than you could handle, especially when your new manager refused to accommodate the adjustments necessary to make your work environment bearable.

As the days went on, the pressure became insurmountable. Each day, you returned home to face the aftermath of panic attacks you had kept at bay and to collapse into bed, seeking solace in the comfort of a show that could no longer ease the heaviness you carried. The joy and relief it once brought you were now overshadowed by a pervasive numbness, a stark reminder of the emotional toll that had become all too familiar.

Jungsu’s heart ached with the weight of your struggle, and though he sympathized deeply with your plight, it did little to quell his worry. He remained steadfast in his resolve to support you through this storm, even as he grappled with the helplessness of seeing you so diminished. Each day, he hoped for a glimmer of recovery, a sign that the storm within you might begin to abate. But for now, he could only offer his silent presence and unwavering support, waiting for the day when you would once again find your way back to the light.

Jungsu was grappling with uncertainty about how to pull you from the depths of your distress, but a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within him as his gaze fell upon the television in the living room. Resolute to offer you a sliver of comfort, he began a frenzied quest to transform your shared space into a sanctuary of solace. For the next half hour, he darted around the apartment, arms laden with an assortment of blankets, comforters, and pillows—each one a small testament to his unwavering determination.

With every trip in and out of the bedroom, his expression was a mixture of earnest concentration and quiet determination. You watched with a blend of curiosity and amusement as he repeatedly entered the room, his movements a flurry of purposeful activity. At one point, he even attempted to gather your collection of stuffed animals, struggling under the weight of their collective softness as he staggered out, his focus unbroken by your gaze.

The sounds of his labor—the shuffling of furniture, the occasional grunt of exertion—filled the space, drawing your attention away from the show you had paused. You listened intently, your curiosity piqued by the rhythmic clamor of activity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bustling, Jungsu reappeared in the doorway of your bedroom, his face illuminated with a blend of triumph and excitement. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the soft light of the nightstand lamp as he panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Baby,” he called out, his voice breathless but laced with an infectious enthusiasm. His hands rested on his hips, a gesture of pride and anticipation. “Can you please come out? I made something for you, and I think you’re really going to like it!”

Despite the storm of emotions swirling within you, the sight of Jungsu’s eager, childlike gleam in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Intrigued and touched by his effort, you pushed yourself up from the bed, the pull of his unwavering support more compelling than the urge to remain cocooned in your sanctuary. He extended a hand towards you, which you accepted with a grateful smile, allowing him to guide you toward the living room.

The transformation that greeted your eyes as you entered the living room took your breath away. The coffee table, once a fixture in the center of the room, had been pushed to the far wall. In its place stood a grand fortress, a whimsical creation of mismatched blankets and comforters meticulously draped and layered into a cozy haven. Strings of Christmas lights peeked through the folds, their gentle glow casting a warm, ethereal light that danced across the room. The television, positioned just in front of the fortress’s entrance, was primed to play your favorite show, a comforting familiarity in its soft glow.

As you inhaled deeply, the fragrant aroma of your favorite meal wafted towards you, a final touch to the heartwarming scene. Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, tears threatened to spill as you turned to embrace Jungsu. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, your body shaking slightly with the emotion you struggled to contain.

Jungsu chuckled softly, his arms enveloping you in a hug that was both firm and reassuring—just the way you liked it. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back to look at him. The tears in your eyes glistened with a profound appreciation as you nodded vigorously, your voice wavering with emotion. “This is perfect, Jun,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. “It looks exactly like how my grandmother used to do it when I was upset as a child.”

Jungsu’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident in the warmth that radiated from him. As you turned and practically bounded towards the fortress, a trail of contented giggles followed in your wake, each sound a balm to his worried heart. The sight of your joy, so vividly reflected in your laughter, made his heart flutter with a tender affection that seemed to encompass the entire room.

곽지석 ── KWAK JISEOK.

The outdoor market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, alive with the energy of families and couples weaving through stalls brimming with fresh produce and handcrafted jewelry. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food, a cacophony of sensory delights that usually set your heart racing with excitement. But today, the thrumming pulse of the market felt more like a storm brewing on the horizon. 

You had been standing in front of a stall, fingers lightly tracing the delicate patterns of handmade trinkets when a sudden influx of noisy tourists swarmed around you. The once-open space now felt suffocating as their loud voices clashed against one another, creating a wall of sound that made it impossible to think clearly. The proximity of strangers pressed too close, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. You glanced around, searching desperately for Jiseok, who had been right beside you only moments ago, but the crowd swallowed him up, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable.

As your anxiety began to claw its way to the surface, your body responded in familiar, desperate ways. Your fingers found their way to your hair, twisting and pulling at the strands as if they might tether you to something solid. Your leg bounced uncontrollably, tapping out an erratic rhythm on the cobblestones beneath you. The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms became the only thing anchoring you, yet it also edged you closer to a breaking point that felt terrifyingly near.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jiseok emerged from the crowd, his eyes immediately locking onto you with a mix of relief and concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could see it in the way your body had tensed, in the rapid, shallow breaths you struggled to control. Without a word, he reached out, gently but firmly taking your hands in his, halting the destructive cycle of pulling at your hair and digging into your skin. He interlaced your fingers with his, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit," Jiseok's voice broke through the chaos, a soothing melody that cut through the overwhelming noise around you. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he drew you close, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear was a familiar comfort, a lifeline in the middle of the storm.

Guiding you through the press of bodies, Jiseok kept you close, his arms a protective barrier against the world that had become too much to bear. His grip tightened slightly, applying the firm pressure that always seemed to calm your racing thoughts. "Look, we can go there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding towards a small park that sat like a hidden gem amidst the market’s frenzy. The greenery promised a respite, a quiet place to breathe again.

But it wasn’t the park that brought you solace—it was Jiseok himself. The vibration of his voice against your back as he spoke, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his embrace all worked together to gently pull you out of the whirlpool of anxiety that threatened to drag you under. As he continued to speak, his words becoming a soft, mindless ramble meant only to distract, you could feel the storm inside you begin to subside. Your heartbeat, once wild and erratic, slowly began to sync with his, finding a steadier, calmer pace.

As Jiseok gently guided you through the bustling market, his hand remained a steady presence on your shoulder. Every so often, he would give a gentle squeeze, three soft pulses of reassurance—a silent code you both had established for moments like these, where words seemed to dissolve into the fog of your anxiety. It was his quiet way of asking, "Are you okay?" The simple gesture, familiar and comforting, anchored you amidst the swirling chaos. 

In response, you reached up to grasp his forearm, fingers curling around his warmth as you squeezed twice, signaling back, "I'm better." The exchange was small, but it spoke volumes—a tender conversation held in silence, where no words were necessary, just the understanding between two souls who had learned to navigate these storms together.

The noise of the market gradually faded into the background as Jiseok led you to the park. Here, the world softened, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of others who had also sought sanctuary from the market's overwhelming energy. The park felt like a refuge, a place where the intensity of the outside world couldn't quite reach you. Jiseok spotted a secluded bench beneath the shade of a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy. The dappled sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a soothing pattern on the ground, and the bench offered a quiet place to rest, away from prying eyes and the relentless pace of the market.

Once seated, Jiseok remained close, his presence a calming force beside you. Your breath, which had been shallow and quick, began to slow as you settled into the quiet of the park. Jiseok's fingers found their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands in a tender contrast to the earlier harsh tugging you had subjected them to. The soft rhythm of his touch was a balm, easing the lingering tension in your body. His other hand rested on your thigh, grounding you with its comforting weight.

He spoke in a low, soothing tone, his words a gentle caress to your frayed nerves. "We can leave whenever you're ready," he suggested, his gaze drifting out to the serene view of the park, "Maybe we can grab some food and cuddle at the dorm. I'm sure the members won’t mind. I’ll kick Seungmin out of our room if I have to; he’ll just have to suck it up."

As the tension within you began to melt away, you found yourself repeating the last few words of his sentence—a familiar and comforting habit, a happy stim that signaled your return to a place of calm. "...have to suck it up," you echoed, your voice lighter now, carrying the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jiseok chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort. He squeezed your hand gently, checking to ensure your nails were no longer digging into your palm. "That's my favorite sound," he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he grinned at you, his love evident in the gentle curve of his smile.

This shared moment of lightness, of humor, further dispelled the remnants of your anxiety. In his presence, you were reminded that you didn’t have to face these moments alone—that even in your most vulnerable states, Jiseok was there, offering his unwavering support and love. The park, with its serene beauty and the quiet strength of your bond, became a haven where you could breathe again, surrounded by the safety of his embrace.

오승민 ── OH SEUNGMIN.

JYP Entertainment hosted an exclusive and lavish party at a luxury hotel, where the atmosphere blended the grandeur of celebration with the intimacy of a private gathering. Unlike the typical public events, this one was strictly by invitation, creating a sanctuary for idols to bring their partners, friends, and families without the constant pressure of cameras. The setting was resplendent, with elegant decor that reflected the significance of the occasion.

The entertainment options catered to a variety of tastes. In one corner, a live band played soft jazz, filling the room with soothing melodies. Nearby, a DJ spun upbeat tracks, enticing those who wanted to dance. For the more playful guests, a karaoke setup allowed for uninhibited fun, and a photobooth adorned with glittering lights stood ready to capture the night’s memories. A gourmet buffet stretched along one side of the room, offering an array of international cuisines, the rich aromas mingling with the laughter and chatter that filled the air.

Despite the festive atmosphere, the constant flashing of lights and the relentless pulse of the music began to overwhelm you. This was your first time attending an event of this magnitude, and though you had agreed to come because of the way Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of sharing this moment with you, the environment soon proved too much. Even as you admired him, his figure so striking in the finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean, muscular build, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the grand room was closing in on you. Your hands trembled despite your best efforts to maintain composure, and a cold sweat began to form along your hairline.

You stole a glance at Seungmin, who stood a short distance away, his face illuminated with genuine joy as he engaged in animated conversation with his bandmates and senior idols from the company. They were discussing the future direction of their music, reminiscing about their journey since debuting, and Seungmin’s laughter rang out, a clear sign that he was fully immersed in the moment. For a brief second, you hoped that his distraction would allow you to slip away unnoticed, just for a moment, to calm the rising tide of anxiety within you.

The party, though well-intentioned, was far beyond your comfort zone, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. You needed to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on you. But as you discreetly made your way to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the overwhelming stimuli, Seungmin caught sight of your retreating figure. 

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had anticipated the possibility of you feeling overwhelmed in such a busy atmosphere. Understanding how easily you could be overstimulated, he had made sure to pack your well-loved noise-canceling headphones in the expensive messenger bag his stylist had provided. As soon as he saw you slipping away, his concern for you took precedence over the conversation, and he politely excused himself, following you to the bathroom.

Upon entering the lavish bathroom, Seungmin offered a polite bow and murmured apologies to the few occupants before your shallow breathing caught his attention. He quickly moved to stand outside the stall where you had taken refuge. 

"Love? It's me," he called softly, his voice gentle and soothing, careful not to startle you in your vulnerable state. Inside the stall, your hands clenched in a futile attempt to stop their violent trembling as you struggled to steady your breathing. 

Seungmin reached over the door, his hand holding the familiar headphones — a lifeline in the storm of your frenzied thoughts. "I thought you might need this," he murmured. 

You reached up and snatched the headphones, the urgency in your movements reflecting the desperation you felt. As you placed them over your ears, the chaotic world outside was mercifully muted. The overwhelming cacophony faded, replaced by the comforting silence you had so desperately needed. Finally, you could breathe again, the noise-canceling barrier providing a sanctuary where you could begin to reclaim your peace.

You were immensely grateful for Seungmin’s patience, relishing the brief respite as you took a few moments to catch your breath. The bustling noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, creating a cocoon of calm around you. Just as you began to steady yourself, your phone vibrated in your hand — a text from Seungmin, despite him standing right outside the bathroom stall. His name illuminated the screen, and a calming wave of relief washed over you, your erratic heartbeat finding a more measured rhythm.

Seungmin understood that in moments like these, communication through text would be the most comforting method. The message on your screen read, Feeling any better? 

Your fingers, still slightly trembling, moved to reply. A lot better, thanks to you. Everything just became a little too much for me. 

The reply came almost instantaneously, and you noticed how the tight, claustrophobic feeling had dissipated. I’m glad I thought of bringing the headphones. Why didn’t you tell me though? The words on the screen seemed to convey a trace of concern, as though you could almost see the frown forming on his lips as he awaited your response.

A pang of guilt pierced your heart. You knew Seungmin would have dropped everything to help you if only you had spoken up. But you didn’t want him to worry or to spoil such a significant night. I didn’t want to ruin such a big night. I thought I would be able to handle it...until I couldn’t anymore. You sent the message with a sigh, already anticipating the comforting words that would follow. 

Baby, these parties mean nothing compared to your well-being. You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you read his soothing words. 

Moments later, another text from him appeared. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you like me to take you somewhere quieter? 

Relief flooded over you as you replied, Can we stay here for now? I don’t want to go back out yet. 

Of course. Do you want to let me in? The offer was genuine and well-intentioned, but it made you feel uneasy. 

You texted back, No. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being touched or having anyone at close proximity right now...sorry. 

Hey, I get it. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to come out.

Seungmin settled in by the door of your stall, his presence a reassuring anchor in your storm of anxiety. Leaning against the door, he continued to text you intermittently, checking in without overwhelming you. Despite the guilt that gnawed at you for keeping him away from the main event, you found solace in the sight of his polished shoes peeking out from beneath the stall door. His calm and patient demeanor provided a sense of security, a reminder that he was there for you while respecting your need for space.

To lift your spirits, Seungmin sent small jokes and snippets of gossip from the party, aiming to lighten the mood without pushing you too far. His thoughtful gestures made the wait more bearable. When you finally felt ready to emerge, you texted him, signaling that you were prepared to leave the bathroom. Seungmin maintained a respectful distance as he guided you out, his focus on ensuring your comfort. He stood by your side, a steady presence as you stood by the bathroom sinks, allowing you to regain your composure.

As you began to feel more at ease, your heart soared when Seungmin gently pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm of a slow song that was apparently playing at the main party. The music and his embrace melded together in a soothing harmony, offering a sense of peace and connection that made the night’s earlier chaos feel like a distant memory.

한형준 ── HAN HYEONGJUN.

You and Hyeongjun had been together long enough to know that your bond was more than just a fleeting connection—it was a deeply rooted love, a steadfast commitment that had withstood the test of time. The idea of moving in together had always felt like the natural progression of your relationship, a step that would solidify the foundation you had built together. The thought of creating a home, a sanctuary where your love could continue to blossom, was a dream you both held close to your hearts. 

After months of searching, of walking through countless doorways in hopes of finding the one that felt right, you finally discovered a small, charming apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect in its simplicity, a place that felt like it could become your own little haven away from the world. The moment you stepped inside, hand in hand with Hyeongjun, you could almost see the future unfolding before your eyes—a future filled with love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

However, as thrilling as this new chapter was, the journey to get there was anything but easy. The excitement that buzzed in your chest was often tempered by the looming dread of packing up your lives and making the transition into this new space. Despite the weeks you had spent mentally preparing, gathering boxes, and organizing your belongings, the reality of the task ahead felt overwhelming once the packing began in earnest. The room that had once been your sanctuary, a place of comfort and familiarity, now looked as though it had been ravaged by a chaotic whirlwind. The bed, once a cozy nest of warmth, was buried beneath a patchwork of clothes—some folded neatly, others discarded haphazardly in the frenzy of sorting. Your once-tidy shelves had succumbed to disorder, with books that had been carefully arranged now lying in disarray, their pages splayed open as if they, too, were crying out for the order that had been lost.

Boxes were strewn across the floor, some half-packed, others overflowing with belongings that seemed to resist categorization. Trinkets and mementos from your relationship and childhood, tokens of memories that had shaped you, were scattered across every available surface. The room had become a chaotic testament to your inability to start a task and see it through to completion, the once-organized process now devolved into a mess that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within you.

As you stood in the center of the chaos, trying to take it all in, the room seemed to close in on you. The sheer magnitude of the task at hand made your head spin, and the weight of the change—of leaving behind the familiar to step into the unknown—pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, smothering you with a growing sense of panic. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your chest tightening as the reality of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm you entirely. You felt frozen, trapped between the urge to curl up on the floor and the fear of succumbing to the full-blown panic attack that you could feel building inside you.

In that moment, the dream of a shared home, of a future filled with love and laughter, felt impossibly distant, overshadowed by the immediate reality of the overwhelming chaos that surrounded you.

Hyeongjun had been meticulously packing utensils in the kitchen, each clang and clatter a small, careful note in the symphony of your impending move. The rhythm was comforting in its predictability, a soundscape of progress amidst the chaos. But it was the sudden, uneven hitch in your breathing that cut through his focus like a knife. The familiar, faint tremor in your breath sent his instincts into overdrive. He abandoned the half-filled box without a second thought, his concern drawing him swiftly to the doorway where he paused, eyes immediately searching for you. The room’s disarray only served to heighten his worry, but it was the look on your face—pale, strained, eyes wide with the first signs of panic—that sent him rushing to your side.

His presence was immediate, solid, a tether in the storm of your thoughts. His hands hovered just above your trembling frame, a question in the tension of his fingers, as if even the act of touching needed your permission in this fragile moment. His voice, calm and steady despite the urgency he felt, broke the silence, "Touch or no touch?" It was the question he always asked, a gentle reminder that he was there, ready to offer exactly what you needed.

Your throat tightened, the pressure of unspoken fears constricting your ability to breathe freely. It took a moment, but you managed to force the words past the lump of anxiety, your voice barely above a whisper yet laced with raw desperation. "Touch, please. Hard." The plea was met with immediate action. Hyeongjun closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you with a firm, reassuring pressure that felt like a lifeline. He pulled you close, your face pressed into the warm, solid comfort of his chest, as if he could shield you from the overwhelming chaos that threatened to consume you.

His embrace was everything you needed—strong, grounding, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His hands moved over your back, each squeeze purposeful, designed to remind you that you weren’t alone in this moment. The weight of his arms anchored you, offering a physical connection that countered the spinning in your mind. As you struggled to sync your breathing with his, he guided you gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, coaxing your frantic gasps to slow. The familiar scent of him—warm, comforting, like home—began to permeate your senses, grounding you further with each breath.

Hyeongjun understood you in a way no one else did. He knew how deeply change unsettled you, how even the most exciting transitions could unearth old anxieties that clung like shadows. This move, this beautiful step into a shared future, was something you had both yearned for, yet the enormity of it was daunting, and he recognized that. 

Still holding you close, he gently guided you to the edge of the bed, never loosening his protective grip. His voice, soft and steady, filled the space between your breaths. He began to speak, his words a soothing balm, painting a picture of the memories he hoped to create with you in your new home. 

He spoke softly of lazy Saturday mornings, where the two of you would linger in bed, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the world outside moved on without you. He painted a picture of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden hues across the room as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of your shared space. He imagined those moments when you would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find him waiting with a mug in hand and a soft smile on his lips. The day would stretch out before you, unhurried and serene, a canvas for whatever simple joys you decided to indulge in. 

He envisioned quiet evenings in the living room, where the two of you would sit side by side, your legs tangled together as you watched movies, your laughter or quiet conversations filling the room. Or perhaps, he mused, there would be nights where no words were needed—where you’d simply sway to the rhythm of music only the two of you could hear, dancing slowly in the dim light of your cozy space. Those were the moments he looked forward to, where nothing else mattered but the gentle pulse of your love, a steady, comforting presence that would fill the apartment with a sense of belonging.

He spoke of the laughter that would echo through the kitchen as you experimented with new recipes, each attempt a delightful adventure, whether it ended in culinary success or a flour-covered mess. The thought of you animatedly talking about bees, your special interest, brought a tender smile to his face. He was excited to hear you ramble on about your latest findings, to listen to your voice light up with passion as you shared the intricacies of something you loved so dearly. For him, the simple joy of coming home to you after a long day, of seeing your face light up when you saw him, was a treasure beyond words. It was in these everyday moments, he believed, that the true beauty of life together would unfold.

Each word he spoke was a delicate thread, weaving a tapestry of the life you would build together—a life rich in love, comfort, and endless moments of shared happiness. As he continued to paint this picture with his words, you felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease, the panic that had gripped you slowly loosening its hold. The overwhelming mess that surrounded you, while still daunting, no longer felt like an insurmountable mountain. 

When he offered to help you pack your bedroom, it wasn’t just the task at hand he was addressing—it was the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t have to face any of it alone. With Hyeongjun by your side, you knew that no matter how overwhelming the process might seem, you would get through it together. The future you were moving toward, though filled with uncertainties, was also brimming with the promise of love, and that was more than enough to keep you going.

이주연 ── LEE JOOYEON.

Since childhood, Saturdays had been your sacred ritual, a cherished time when you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of your favorite internet cafe. Nestled on a tranquil street near your home, this digital sanctuary had become your second haven. The space was a dimly lit enclave, bathed in warm amber hues that softly illuminated rows of screens and keyboards. The gentle hum of cooling fans and the rhythmic clatter of keys created a soothing symphony of focused activity. The walls were adorned with neon posters of popular games and vibrant advertisements for energy drinks, their colors shimmering and pulsing with the memories of countless gaming sessions. Each desk bore the marks of countless hours spent in virtual worlds, with personal touches and signs of frequent use that told stories of dedicated gamers. The chairs, worn and comfortable, had molded to fit their occupants perfectly.

The employees, who had long grown accustomed to your weekly visits, had come to appreciate your presence. They reserved a specific PC for you, tucked away in a semi-secluded corner you had claimed as your own years ago. This desk, bathed in the soft, reassuring glow of your screen, was where you felt most at ease, completely immersed in the digital adventures you embarked upon. The ritual of arriving, settling in, and losing yourself in your chosen game was a comforting certainty, a bubble of predictability in a world that often felt overwhelming.

However, recently, this cherished routine had been disrupted by a new and vibrant presence. Jooyeon, as you would eventually learn, was the boy whose frequent visits began to unsettle the calm monotony of your Saturdays. His arrival was like a burst of vivid color and exuberant energy crashing into your serene haven. The air would come alive with his boisterous laughter and animated conversations with friends, his presence a dynamic contrast to the quiet you had grown accustomed to.

Despite this disruption, you found yourself surprisingly receptive to the change. Jooyeon, with his strikingly handsome features, was impossible to overlook. His mischievous grin, ever-present and wide, seemed to illuminate the room as if he were the very essence of playful charm. Dressed in soft, well-worn hoodies paired with relaxed jeans, and with his shoulder-length hair cascading like a dark, flowing waterfall, he exuded an effortlessly cool demeanor. His interactions with friends and his choice of games created a vivid contrast against the backdrop of your reserved routine, adding an unexpected layer of excitement to your once predictable Saturdays.

There were moments when, despite your best efforts to stay focused on your own game, you would catch fleeting glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. You tried to remain unobtrusive, but Jooyeon's unabashed enjoyment of the popular games he was engrossed in was impossible to ignore. The occasional flicker of movement or the burst of his distinctive laughter would effortlessly draw your gaze, breaking through the veil of your concentration.

On one particular Saturday, Jooyeon’s frustration had reached its zenith. After what felt like the hundredth defeat in his solo game, he dramatically slumped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of surrender. His eyes, alight with a mixture of defiance and amusement, wandered towards your screen, where you were deeply immersed in a particularly demanding quest. As you navigated through the game with meticulous keystrokes, Jooyeon’s gaze lingered on you, an unspoken challenge mingling with curiosity that sent a flutter through your heart.

Despite the distraction of his intense scrutiny, you managed to achieve a hard-fought victory, leveling up with a triumphant flourish on your screen. The soft hum of intrigue that escaped Jooyeon’s lips prompted you to finally look up, your heart racing as you became acutely aware of the flush warming your cheeks. Jooyeon’s grin remained undiminished, his eyes sparkling with an affectionate, teasing light. After a moment of shy silence, his laughter bubbled forth, a soft, infectious sound that seemed to fill the space between you. His amusement wrapped around you like a playful embrace, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had quietly woven itself into the fabric of your Saturday rituals.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, meant only for you to hear. “I heard that game is pretty good. Do you mind if I join?” The simple invitation opened the door to a new, intimate connection. From that moment on, Saturdays transformed into a shared adventure, where you and Jooyeon would indulge in games together, swapping playful jabs and cracking jokes. The hours spent with him became the highlight of your week, and the growing affection you felt for him added a layer of significance to each interaction. You found yourself seeking ways to show him how much he meant to you.

Noticing his habit of picking at his skin whenever he was stressed or anxious, you returned the following week with a thoughtful gift: a textured, silicone stress ball from your own collection, designed to help him redirect his nervous energy without damaging his skin. On another occasion, as you patiently waited for him to clear a level in a game you were both playing, you couldn’t help but be charmed by the expression of concentration on his face. Without fully thinking through your words, you blurted out, “You have this cute habit of pouting when you’re really focused. It’s kind of distracting, but in a way that makes me want to keep watching.” The sudden boldness of your words left you both blushing, but Jooyeon’s shy attempt to hide his wide smile made the moment feel worth the slight embarrassment.

When Jooyeon revealed that he was an idol, the bassist for the rock band Xdinary Heroes, you found yourself spending the entire week immersed in his music and learning everything you could about him. By the time Saturday rolled around again, you were eager to confess your newfound knowledge. As he settled into his usual seat beside you, you said with a grin, “I was thinking about you so much that I ended up reading every article, watching every video, and listening to every song from your band. I have so many questions about you guys!” The sight of Jooyeon’s typically casual demeanor giving way to shyness, while his grin widened, was heartwarming. He eagerly entertained each of your questions, his enthusiasm is infectious as ever.

Finally, on one late evening, as the employees of the internet cafe gently nudged you both towards the exit, you lingered outside, a smile playing on your lips. Turning to Jooyeon, you said softly, “I really like spending time with you. You make my brain feel all fizzy, like I’ve had too much caffeine, but in a really good way.” 

To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and replied, “Okay, so, I don’t usually say stuff like this, but...whenever I’m with you, it’s like my brain gets all tangled up in butterflies and excitement. I really like spending time with you, too.”

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! @joosbasschick (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

[silvergyus]

part one of ? of my txt rockband au

hueningkai who presses his whole face into the microphone. whose lips and nose crash against the metal- once cool, now hot from his presence- with every note he sings. he pulls away for a sharp intake of breath as taehyun carries his note up and over, bridging the gap between kai's harmonies. kai, whose body all but swallows the microphone stand, passion pouring out of him in this physical display, this need to be listened to- to be heard- is made tangible.

his fingers dance quickly, perfectly over the strings of his guitar, even pressed as he is he never once falters, never once doesn't land each chord exactly on time. he famously doesn't play any songs that aren't by tomorrow x together- doesn't need to. these are all he has the patience for. the chords that he's left space for in his brain are the ones that carry the message that he needs to share. these are the songs he knows, and he knows them perfectly.

he comes down from the high of performing slowly, like he's getting pushed back onto shore. he settles back into sheepish grins and hiding behind his bangs. into biting his lip when he's unsure, into feeling like he takes up to much space. he isn't sure that he likes the spotlight when it isn't the bright heat of the stage lights. he's still learning that the glow of the stage causes a light to follow him everywhere. one day he will grow accustomed to it, find himself almost welcoming it, relishing in it. his posture will grow straighter, his hair pushed back away from his eyes.

right now he is loud. right now he is in his element. right now the pulse of the band booms loud in his blood- the kickdrum beat beomgyu provides is a heartbeat that each of the members aligns with. right now he doesn't even notice that the mic is hot against his mouth, doesn't register anything beyond the music and how it feels to perform these songs with his members. this is the world, and it is big and perfect and more than he could ever need. and when the cheers from the crowd break through to his thoughts, he registers them slowly, like the roar of a wave from under the water. suddenly it feels like a second sun shines. the blur of faces singing his lyrics back to him are like a star burning brightly, keeping him alive like a perfect green earth. and he realizes, the world is even bigger than the five of them, and they made this bright world together.

[spidey-bie]

Hobie with a friend or s/o who's afraid of needles anyone?

TW: Needles of course

Hobie hooks you up with someone that he's close with to ease your anxiety.

Whether if it's for a shot, a piercing, or a tattoo he somehow knows a guy.

He's helping to calm you down before you go in.

Also he'll definitely go in with you if you ask him to.

(This next paragraph is for me. IDC.)

"I know I should be over this by now. I mean I'm grown but I still can't even get a simple shot by mys-"

Your vision started to blur and your breaths were uneven.

"Lovely." He holds you close to his chest.

"You're so brave. Y'know that yeah?" He pauses and looks down at you.

"Couldn't be more proud of you facing your fears and all that."

He knows so many breathing exercises since he has to constantly keep calm in his symbiote riddled world.

Hobie will keep you distracted making sure that you never get a glimpse of the needle.

Before, during, and after the process he'll keep your eyes on him.

He'll gently playing with your fingers or talk to you about anything to keep your mind off off of.

If you're incredibly terrified, like me, and you just wish someone would hold you as you cry you'll be getting the shot while sitting in his lap.

If you're getting a tattoo or a piercing, and you choose to get it done by a professional same procedure.

Even if you're sitting there for hours on end he'll keep your mind occupied. He'll sing to you knowing that his terrible voice with make you laugh.

Also Hobie will just give you a piercing himself if you ask.

"Ducky, do you want me to count down o-"

"Nope. Just do it."

A/N: I used more slang this time. Typing this with shaking fingers since I have to go in to get blood work later today. My arms still hurt from the 2 shots I got Friday. I was near tears just from those. I was supposed to get blood work done at the same place but after pricking me twice I was told that I have deep veins so I have to go to another place. I wanna live out my "I'm getting every piercing under the sun" phase but idk how I'm gonna deal with the needle.

[pluralbyler]

i would love to hear more of your thoughts on omegaverse byler with o!will and a!mike!!

ooo giggles okay so

sections:

★ omega will → alpha will

★ omega mike → alpha mike

i'm gonna talk about ALL OF THEM bc im brainrotting

💚 omega!will . . .

★ loves fucking, being filled, that whole stick

★ easily gets the hang of parenthood and loves his kids

★ i have a weird thing that whenever will gets knocked up, it's always twins or triplets. why? idk to be honest

★ again, pretty normal, average heats.

★ still maintaining size kink will here too, he likes showing off

★ still has ass? absolutely

★ scent: honey, lavender, and linen

★ still an earthy tones guy and goes for baggy more that tight, but that just means it's harder to tell mike has a hand on his ass (bare ass, that is) in certain circumstances

★ definitely the brat here but like. public teaser. gets mike hard with their friends so mike will take them home and knot him instead which obviously means he'll only be on his stomach or feet for a week bc ASS obvi

★ LEAKS like wtf how is he so wet???

★ fucking LAP SEX all the way, back to front or facing each other, doesn't matter

🟢 alpha!will . . .

★ TEASING TEASING TEASING

★ ruts are lighter than average but only bc i think it'd be required to fully commit to the teasing when they sync

★ a whore for mike being wrecked; tear tracks, smudged eyeliner/tinted lipgloss (maybe teehee), soft whines

★ likes hair pulling a LOT just so he can hear the noises it causes

★ big family just because he keeps knocking mike up (who loves it too)

★ yes his koala has a name (hi mike)

★ scent: cedar, mulberry, and smoke i believe

★ still a public teaser but pulls mike into bathroom stalls and hidden locations

★ does he EVER stop holding mike's hand in a white knuckled grip so he can't avoid him (or self-isolate on perceived wrongdoings)? no ❤️

★ cuddly as shit

★ exhibitionist for sure but more blanket-consent voyeurism of clubs than anything else

🔵 omega!mike . . .

★ just loves being pregnant full stop

★ scent: chocolate, blueberry, and a little vanilla

★ intense heats, little breaks, yeah okay, but he's also super fucking sensitive so he's always out an extra week because his legs refuse to work and will has to carry him around

★ which he obviously hates (not)

★ very into physical comfort, needs puppy pile aftercare during and after heats and in general

★ puppy boy stereotype but like... grumpy

★ again, tries to be a brat but fails bc will only needs a single look to break him

★ loud as shit and needs to be muffled if they're around people

★ grips will's hand back just as much but make it jealous possessiveness this time

★ cockwarming and car sex are his top favorite

💙 alpha!mike

★ just- TOYS. plugs and dildos and vibrators and sometimes rings, he wants will plugged up with cum or stretched and ready for when will eventually begs to get fucked again

★ intense ruts, but will loves it because mike is the alpha that leaves so many bites and hickeys it seems ridiculous

★ scent: coffee, cinnamon, and a little mulberry, maybe apple instead

★ arm around the waist ALWAYS

★ gets "down doggie"'d by will ALL the time and it makes him splutter but also stfu will you weren't complaining when you got turned on by the possessiveness yesterday...

★ a big tummy toucher when will's pregnant and has a massive breeding kink lmao (he did that!!!!! he gets to knot will!!!!! the babies are his!!!!!)

★ reverse cowgirl PLEASE but spooning during sex is also one he really likes

...

all dividers by @cafekitsune

[happyfunf3tti]

autistic headcanons: austin powers

"no man, freedom didn't fail. right now we've got freedom and responsibility. it's a very groovy time."

[wecanstart-fresh2day]

I beg someone to teach me how to title a fic because I am running out of hozier lyrics

[calxia]

I had the most stupid thought. Monopoly with the ghouls... I just know that'd be a disaster. Somebody would be trying to eat the game pieces. Others are fighting over property.. Somebody is just sitting in the corner scared of everything that's happening.

I imagine Copia had put them in timeout many times which did not work and ended up having to ban the game completely because they can't act right

- 🎸 Anon

I very almost added the Monopoly videogame to the 'ghouls and videogames' ask you sent last until I had images of the Nintendo Switch being thrown out of the window when someone gets bancrupted.

The pack has never actually been able to finish a game of Monopoly because it always ends up with someone crying (normally Phantom) and someone in a blind rage flipping the table (Dew.)

The fighting always starts from the second the game box is opened when everyone quarrels over which piece they all want, despite how they always pick the exact same ones every time. Mountain prefers to just watch and mediate any quarrels that break out while Copia acts as the banker because nobody else can be trusted with the fake money.

everything goes smoothly for the first few turns until more and more properties get bought up. the board quickly fills up with bought properties. Sunny somehow always manages to lose all her money which prompts an argument if she gets new notes or if they consider her bankrupt already. The table gets knocked and they have to pick everything up off the floor and try to remember who was where.

Swiss rolls the dice so hard it goes skidding off the table and under the sofa, so they have to pause the game to move it to retrieve it. It's already been an hour and most of them are getting bored. Phantom ended up in jail 2 turns ago and is unable to roll a double so he has to mortgage his properties to pay bail. Cirrus and Cumulus have somehow managed to build houses already which sends Dew into a blind rage when he lands on them.

Copia has had to move the bank to the other side of the room because Rain kept trying to distract him to steal money so he doesn't have to mortgage his properties. Aurora and Phantom quickly get bankrupted when they run out of properties to mortgage. Cirrus now owns half the board.

Swiss has gotten bored by this point and has started flicking houses at Phantom from over the table. He then pulls a card and has to bankrupt because he can't pay his taxes. Only Dew, Aether, Cirrus and Cumulus are still in the game by this point. Dew and Aether have about four properties between them and the rest is owned by the ghoulettes. Most spaces now have hotels on them. Aether loses to Cumulus.

Dew tries to kick Cirrus from under the table but instead boots Phantom in the shins which makes him burst into tears. He gets told off but it only makes him more angry. Aurora and Sunny are trying to stack the unused house pieces as high as possible on the edge of the table.

Dew lands on Cirrus' Boardwalk with a hotel, immediately loses all his money and gets bankrupted. he flips the table in a blind fit of rage and starts screaming at Cirrus. She screams back at him. There are game pieces all over the floor in the living room. Phantom is crying in the corner with Swiss trying to stop him. Aether is trying to calm down Dew while the ghoulettes try to calm Cirrus down. Rain is somehow managing to ignore the chaos while playing Pokemon

Copia bans the game after that. (it's not like they'd have been able to play again anyway given how most of the pieces were now missing)

[slut4sugu]

𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Prowler Miles x shy Fem!Black Reader

Including: aged up!characters, sweet yet flirty miles, use of nicknames/pet names: mami, ma, doll, baby, princesa, uncle Aron being funny, overprotective miles, use of Spanish

🎸: 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐦- 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝐟𝐭. 𝐘𝐆

FIRST WEEKS DATING

Makes sure your okay and comfortable 24/7, he might look scary but nonetheless he always makes sure your safe.

Always picks up on the 2nd ring when you call him, no matter what time of day (unless when he’s out being the prowler) he always picks up even if its just you calling because you can’t sleep.

Gives you self defense weapons, he almost laughs when he sees you holding a heavy Bo-staff making you pout slightly before he eases up on the teasing and just gives you a taser an alarm.

Tells you to not be out late at night without letting him know (so he can avoid that area)

Acts as your guard dog whenever you two go out, making sure that whenever you step into a place people know your with him

When you finally sat down with Miles’s mom and Uncle for dinner, Rio was happy to see that you spoke Spanish as well. (And of course you called her Ms.Morales)

Uncle Aron winked at Miles when he told everyone he was happy he brought home, ‘A pinky pie.’ Which made him roll his eyes, before discreetly holding your hand from under the table.

Teaches you a bit of self defense which then led to him pinning you to the wall, and your first kiss. Which was shortly ended by Aron, who interrupted the kiss to remind miles to pay up for losing a bet. (Aron said that miles was soo whipped for you that he couldn’t go a month without kissing you, which an defensive miles denies. Which started the bet that he inevitably lost)

Doesn’t tell you he’s the prowler unless you find out, besides that he waits to tell you until wayy later.

FIRST COUPLE MONTHS

Gets more comfortable with you, starts calling you his girl more openly

Becomes more soft around you: Starts pulling you into hugs randomly and kisses for no reason, kissing your knuckles when your first waking up.

Like hobie he has to be touching you in some type of way, if you both have a sleepover or he falls asleep while hanging out with you, his arm has to be around your waist/ holding your hand. He feels more comfortable knowing that your locked in his hold.

Very very very light sleeper, since yk prowler biz and all. If your trying to creep out of bed in the middle of the night forget abt it, the slightest feeling of you leaving his grasp wakes him up. And you’re met with a, “What you doin doll?”

Leaves his hoodies and shirts at your place when he’s out being the prowler, he knows you like wearing his clothes especially the smell of the expensive cologne on them, and he loves seeing you in them when he inevitably comes back to check up on you.

SPOILS TF OUTTA YOU, little did you know he was making bank in his line of work, until you started to notice the one to many expensive gifts he would buy you almost daily. Whether it be a necklace you told your boyfriend you would ‘die for’ that you magically saw on your bed the next afternoon, or some red bottoms heels that you saw in a store window.

“Ve a divertirte, princesa, y muéstrame lo que compraste cuando vuelva.” (Go have fun princess and show me what you bought when i get back)

Eventually you asked how he’s getting the money for all of these things, and thats when he sat you down and told you everything. You were shocked at first but it made sense, you told him you would always love him regardless of what he did, as long as he didn’t get too hurt. Which made him chuckle before stating, “Mami, I never get hurt. Don’t worry about me, now get ready I’m taking you out in an hour.”

He loves spending money on you mainly because you look good in anything you try on, whether it be dresses, heels, skirts, whatever it is. As soon as he sees you in it consider it sold.

4+ MONTHS

Finally says ‘I love you’

Those three little words aren’t something that miles says a lot, so when he said them to you one lazy afternoon while you were snuggled into his side, your eyes widened and you sat up to look at him. “You love me?” Humming in response, you quickly sat on his lap before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him. Your face buried into his neck.

“I love you too amor.”

After that day, you became wifey in his head.

Though keeping his stoic demeanor you could tell he changed a little after that, being more meaningful with his kisses and hugs.

he became a little bit more overprotective in the process but you reassured him that you’d be safe and always wold tell him whenever your going somewhere.

Bought you a promise ring on your anniversary </3 (it was very nice for a promise ring, it almost looked like a wedding ring but miles said your wedding ring would be much nicer </333

He gave you a credit card with ALOT of money n it, he hardly wanted you to use your own money so you had almost 20K+ saved on your cards because of it. (Mind you he paid for ALLL of your expenses: Cars, apartment, student loan, etc.)

Uncle Aron started to realize how much miles loved you and started to give miles a little little bit more time with you. Which was greatly appreciated by the both of you.

Overall you were wifey from the start </3

[allisluv]

I don't think you've done it, so what do you think thg characters love languages are??

-🎸

johanna's love language is words of affirmation and by that, i just mean she likes to (lovingly) bully you. she does occasionally tell you that she's proud of you and how good you're doing if you're finding something difficult though.

katniss' love language is quality time. i think she likes teaching you how to hunt or listening to you ramble on about your interests.

peeta's love language is physical touch. he likes to hold your hand and snuggle on the sofa while you watch your favourite movie or tv show.

finnick's love language is acts of service. he likes telling you to sit still and look pretty while he does all the housework or cooks you your favourite meal.

annie's love language is gift giving. she likes to make shell necklaces and give you bunches of your favourite flowers.

lucy gray's love language doesn't really fall into any category. it's a bit of a mixture of all five, but i do think she likes writing you songs.

[eeeeuuughggg]

the whole confession thing

anon: “ LET ME BE UR FIRST ANON😜 ill be 🎸 but anyways i loved ur larry general headcanons, i would love to see some headcanons of how you think he would confess his feelings, im a sucker for confessions🤭 ”

notes: THANK YEWWW omg i needed something to get me back into writing ur a saviour (i forgot to make it headcanons OOPS)

w/c: 478

warnings: none

You and Larry were sitting outside 7-Eleven, slurpees in hand and your backs uncomfortably pressed against the brick wall. He's listening to you a lot more than he normally seems to be, because it feels like you're the only one that's really talking— and that's unusual. You wanna know why? Larry never shuts up when he's with you.

You turn to look at him, and that makes things a bit weird because he was already looking at you. He turns his head away and you sigh, brows furrowed in confusion. “Are you alright, dude?” There's silence for a second, and then he looks back over at you.

“Yeah, man, 'm good. Jus' chillin.” He hums in reply, trying to play it cool, and failing fucking miserably, which he usually does.

“..Alright, I'm just checking.” You murmur, staring at him for a second longer. Pausing, you add, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Larry swallows. “Yeah,”

“I've just been thinking, lately. Like, a lot.” Trying to lighten the awkward situation you've gotten yourself into, you smile and poke fun at him. “You don't think a lot, do ya?”

“Shut up, man. I'm serious.” He groans, looking away yet again and down at his drink, focusing on anything but you.

“Do you really mean it, dude? Like, do you mean it when you say I can tell you anything? 'Cause, like, I don't want you to hate me, man. I couldn't handle that shit.”

“I mean it, Larry. Promise.” You're anxious, wondering about what he's going to say. Usually you can guess what's going to happen with him; you practically know him like the back of your hand, he's your best friend, right?

Nothing more, nothing less.. right? Right? Right. You reassure yourself that you're just setting yourself up to be hurt and zone back in just in time to listen to him.

“Look, man,” He turns to you, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don't wanna ruin our friendship, 'kay? 'Cause you're like, fucking sick, y'know? It's just, like, lately, I feel like I don't want you to be just my friend. Do you know what I mean?”

Before you can answer, he cuts you off. “And if you don't like me like that, then that's totally cool, man, I understand. I just need to tell you how I feel in case you feel the same. I don't want it to be like, 'what could have been?', do you feel me?”

Beginning to start another mini-monologue, you cut him off. “I feel the same way.” Simple and short, and enough to shut Larry up. “You do?” He asks, looking at you almost dumbfounded. “Do you want to, like, do anything with that? It'd be awesome if we could, I dunno, maybe go out sometime. If you're cool with that.”

“I'm cool with that.” You smile.

“Sweet.”

[byizoyas]

© byizoyas.

4:44 | diluc x f!reader smau

➵ masterlist | ⁰⁹ second date | prev ⟣ ⟢ next

➵ author notes ; FINALLY updating!! i’ll def try to be more regular w my chapters but they’re always so long to write kekdkek im asking myself if making them so long is a good thing to you cause i personally prefer 😭 but idk perhaps it’s too much and i feel like it’s getting worse each chapter too wisekwkfki

taglist is open.

[spidey-bie]

Hey buddy this is the-cat-and-the-birdie

Uhh quick question you got any Hobie headcanons? I’m curious and also not normal about him at all

also if you have any advice on how not to lose my mind everytime I see a drawing of him please let me know cause this man is robbing me of my heart and sanity

It's literally impossible I've tried so hard but my mind is gone.

Anyways headcanons. (Idk if you wanted relationship based ones or just Hobie related ones but oh well. These are gonna be random as hell lol.)

General Headcanons

You can take Hobie and his Caribbean roots from my cold dead hands (and even then I'll arise from the grave to fight you)

I feel like he knows how to cook but he acts like he can't just to mess with everyone.

Aroace Hobie supremacy here. (We all heard that I hate labels line right. Aroace was the first thing that popped in my mind IDC IDC.)

I feel like back in his home dimension he just picks up kids off the street to adopt. Or at the very least all the kids in his area know of him and absolutely adore him.

He crafts in his down time when he's not punching fascists. It started as just patches on his jacket but now he straight up just crochets plushies that he gives to the spider band and the kids in his area.

He's just the hypeman. Always hyping up his friends and motivating them because he didn't get that when he was their age.

He seems like he's the cool and suave type at first but he's actually a huge dork like every other spiderman. He's constantly telling Gwen and Pav about his favorite Punk artists and whatever new tech is coming out in his universe.

Romantic Headcanons

His love language is acts of service, physical touch, and words of affirmation Fight me.

Like he just is always on you if he can be. Leaning against you while talking, lying across you if you're sitting down, head resting on top of yours type beat. (You get what I'm saying here.)

He's the best guy to go too if you need a pick me up. You're feeling down? Well he's not having it.

He definitely takes you on the coolest kind of dates. Not the traditional movie and dinner type stuff. Nah y'all are gonna go to some underground spot that had a hidden entrance and a passcode.

He's fairly neutral to PDA. Like he probably won't initiate it himself half of the time. But if you initiate it he'll definitely reciprocate it.

A/N: This reminds me I have to do more research on Jamaican culture for future works. If someone could help there that'd be nice. That's one down 2 more to go. I think I haven't looked at my inbox yet.

[aromantichc]

Aromantic Character of the Day (27/7/24 BONUS) is.....

Hobart "Hobie / SpiderPunk" Brown (ATSV/Spiderman comics) !

Admin headcanons thon as arospec. Grr does NOT use labels, but he is on the aromantic spectrum somewhere. They feel attraction in theory, but typically become repulsed by romance when things get too close. He is allosexual. They would describe hirself as queer and punk dislikes the term unlabelled for zeirself. It likes anyone sexually and romantically (in theory) and he is transsexual (ftm) and uses any pronouns EXCEPT she/her. He is also AuDHD and has BPD and POTS. Xe uses a mobility aid at times.

Part of this post is CANON Hobie CANONICALLY does not like LABELS in any way. Everything else mentioned is purely HEADCANON.

[1-800-cheolie]

thinking about villain bakugou who you happened to be working with, just partner in crimes and his tech supporter, and the two of you get closer the more you spend time together, and he tells you. “Don’t fall in love with me” and you saw it coming, you did yet you went and fell in love anyways—mirroring him, you reply with, “Ha, wouldn’t dream of it” unbeknownst to you, he had already fallen in love with you too.