#I’ve always loved this shot because it shows off the girl’s different personalities

[glassofoj-twitter]

Personality! (Plus original shot)

[silkentine]

Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤

Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️

I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.

Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).

Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).

Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)

Here are some closeups of Ace:

Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.

I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.

Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).

Here are her close-ups:

Plot notes for this AU:

For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!

Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍

*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo and 451,608 others

landonorris boo’s birthday

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alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo

this comment has been hidden by the original poster

user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up

user bro just ask her out i swear to god

user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris

alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow

user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick

yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

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yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩

👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others

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landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram

yourusername stfu and order me shots

user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️

user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs

user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 43,001 others

yourusername 💋

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user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE

lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU

user lando MOVE i want her too

landonorris pretty

landonorris where are you off to?

yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!

y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

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yourusername race days

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maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again

maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)

yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰

user come to every race you’re good luck

user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different

yourusername nah he’s just oblivious

landonorris @/yourusername HUH

yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said

tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

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landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0

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user FUCKIN FINALLY.

user @/yourusername i could treat you better

alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate

landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this

yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????

user uh oh. lando’s in trouble

————

a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!

as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

[latin5mamii]

Pretending - Jude Bellingham

Warnings: none, maybe a bit smut (?)

Summary: Why moving on needs to be so hard?

Author's note: i don't know about this...let me know if you like it! masterlist

Genre: reader x Ex!JudeBellingham (wordcount: 1425)

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

I could hardly believe my eyes.

Just when I thought I’d moved on, ready to start a new chapter and forget about him, there he was, looking like an angel descended to earth, a living Michelangelo masterpiece.

Was it the alcohol, or had he always been like this?

The sad truth was that I missed him more than I was willing to admit, and deep down, I hoped he missed me too.

When his eyes met mine, panic surged through me. I quickly turned away, pretending I hadn’t noticed him, as if that could somehow shield me from the storm of emotions brewing inside. I was terrified to face him, to meet his gaze, to exchange even a simple hello.

If I had truly moved on, I wouldn’t be feeling this way. No nervous fluttering in my stomach, no racing thoughts. But let’s be honest, this wasn’t just anyone. This was Jude Bellingham.

I could pretend I only noticed some of his teammates, but that would be a lie. He was surrounded by girls, their eager eyes betraying their desperation. Not that he paid them much attention, but they were ready to do anything to get close to him.

Before I met him, I had never been a jealous person, but what I loved most about him was his loyalty. Now, even though our relationship was over and I should have moved on, a pang hit my heart.

I had sworn to my friends that I wouldn’t fall for him again, no matter what. At the time, it seemed easy enough. I was confident, even defiant. But then I saw him, and all the walls I’d built crumbled in an instant. The progress I’d made was undone with a single glance.

“Show that you’ve moved on, you’re a fuckin’ independent girl.”

“He’s such a loser thinking he can get you back.”

What they didn’t know was that if I could, I would have jumped into his arms the moment I walked into the place. But I couldn’t. Maybe because my ego is as high as a mountain, and I’ve always followed this fundamental rule: Don’t go back to your exes.

Little did I know that soon this rule was going to be forgotten.

With my back still turned to him, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Before turning around, I tried to imagine who it could be. I hoped with all my heart that it was him, but all my hopes were shattered the moment I turned around.

There stood a man, visibly older than me, with a dazzling smile as he offered me his hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jude has always been the jealous type, the kind of guy who feels the need to protect his territory. And I loved that protective side of him to death.

Ever since that guy asked me to dance, Jude hasn’t been able to take his eyes off me. I smiled slightly to myself because I knew the effect I had on him. I could see that irritated expression of his, the one that said, “I don’t like what I’m watching,” and butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he still wanted me.

The guy had gone to get drinks, and while I was waiting, I heard a voice behind me, a voice too familiar to ignore.

“Were you trying to catch my attention? ‘Cause you did.”

My heart skipped a beat as I turned slowly, almost afraid of what I might find. There he was, closer than I expected, his eyes locked onto mine.

“I’m just trying to move on, like you should too,” I lied, my voice barely steady.

“Oh, sure you are,” Jude replied, his tone laced with sarcasm, but his eyes told a different story. They were searching mine, as if trying to find some truth behind my words.

“I saw how you were looking at me before, pretending not to notice,” he continued, stepping closer, my hands trembling harder than before.

“And I saw how you looked at me,” I shot back, my breath catching in my throat.

He smirked, the kind of smirk that made my knees weak. “So, what now? We keep pretending? Or are we going to talk about the fact that neither of us has moved on?”

I didn’t know what to say. I knew this night was going to be a long one.

His eyes and that little smirk. My heart was beating faster than it should have. Why was moving on so hard? My desire to jump into his arms was stronger than ever.

“Stop looking at me like that,” his voice pulled me back to reality. His gaze flickered away, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Like what?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “Like you always did before.” He hesitated, then continued, “I miss you so fuckin’ much.”

His words hung in the air between us, the kind of tension that made it hard to breathe. “I miss you so fuckin’ much,” he repeated, his voice rough, as if the confession had taken everything out of him. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine, searching for any hint of what I might be feeling.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. It was impossible to think straight with him standing so close, looking at me like I was the only person in the room.

“Tell me you don’t miss me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, “and I’ll walk away right now. But if you do, even a little…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering down to my lips before meeting my eyes again. “Then let’s stop pretending.”

My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to deny it, to tell him that I didn’t miss him, that I was perfectly fine on my own. But you know what the truth was.

“You’re making this really hard,” I finally managed to say, my voice shaky but laced with the frustration of someone who was desperately trying to hold it together.

He reached out, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine. He closed the gap between us, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, each word sending butterflies to my stomach. "I know you want me. I can see it in your eyes. You can't hide from me, not now."

He pressed a soft kiss on my jaw, making me grip the bottom of his shirt. His hand then took my wrist, a grip much stronger and demanding. His fingers intertwined with mine.

I timidly sought his eyes, which immediately met my gaze.

“Am I going to regret this?” Words came out in a whisper. Enough to be heard but not enough to hide myself from him. I could never.

“Not if you want to.”

And there it was. In that moment, I was fucked.

I pulled him by his shirt to bring my lips closer to his, first just brushing against them, then Jude's hand slid around my hips, pulling me closer as his lips finally moved against mine with a fervor that took my breath away. I responded eagerly, wrapping my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched his own.

As his kisses traveled from my lips to my neck, the sensation of his warm breath and soft, tantalizing kisses made it hard to think. His lips brushed against my collarbone, moving lower, each kiss sending shivers down my spine, like always.

“I think we should take this to my place, yeah?”

[the-traveling-poet]

Hi love! I’ve read a levi x reader where the reader was Levi’s lieutenant and they had a secret relationship and I just liked it so much… so I’d like to ask could you do a Levi x lieutenant reader where the reader gets injured during an expedition out of the walls and they have a secret relationship, but like, Levi cannot show too much affection cause of course he is “ice cold Captain Levi” but he is so worried for her? I’m feeling a bit sick lately, stuck at home with the flu and wanted to cheer myself up… thank you anyway! ❤️

Priorities

Being Corporal Levi’s Lieutenant was a demanding job. As well as being his second in command, you doubled as his personal assistant. Though you were always up for the job, sometimes it was tough.

But not as tough as keeping the two of your’s relationship behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

One particular expedition gone wrong might just bring to light a side of Levi the rest of the Scouting Regime hasn’t seen before; The one that only you get to.

Pairing: Corporal Levi x Lieutenant!Reader

Warnings: Angst-to-fluff, long fic, language, descriptions of wounds, secret relationship. SFW, xReader, Multiple POV’s, S1

A/N: Ofc! I too am a sucker for “secret relationship” tropes, so I was really excited to write this one out! I downed 4 shots of tequila and speed wrote this. I’m not ashamed of myself, just a little surprised. I hope it’s to your expectations, and if not I will happily redo whatever you prefer~

Get well soon babe!🤎 Enjoy~

Typically, you preferred to go through your warm up routine before sparring. Stretching, running a couple laps, exercising your legs to ensure flexibility; the usual.

But today, you didn’t get that luxury.

Landing on your ass for the third time in twenty minuets, you huffed a sigh of frustration.

The hell is his problem?

“Get up, L/N.” A bored tone called down to you.

Brushing the dirt off your rear, you pulled yourself to your feet and tried your best to keep your expression neutral. Levi paced closer to you, arms folded across his chest and his brow furrowed.

“Your stance isn’t steady, so you keep falling on your ass. How many more time do I have to knock you down before you realize this?” he continued.

Slowly bringing your arms up to salute him, you met his steely gaze.

“Yeah yeah, sorry sir,” you muttered. Typically, backtalk or anything of the such wouldn’t be tolerated, but you were an exception. A fact that still baffled the rest of the Special Operations Squad.

Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention to the small group watching your matches.

“That’s enough for today. Clean up and get down to the mess hall.”

“Sir!” his squad responded with salutes of their own, and were quick to follow his orders.

Petra stalled for a moment, shooting you a concerned look over her shoulder before she followed after the others. She was a sweet girl, you thought. She’s come to you many times about her concerns for the way your Captain treated you, but you’d always reassured her that you and Levi simply just butted heads more often than not.

Once they were gone, you sighed and threw a look over at your Captain.

“Yknow, if you’d have let me warm up first, those fights would have ended differently.”

“You think on the field you’ll have time to stretch your pretty legs before you fly after a titan’s nape?” He responded, but this time his tone wasn’t so harsh.

“What’s up your ass?” You grinned, stepping closer to him.

“Your attitude,” he smirked ever so slightly. He looked you up and down quickly, then glanced around your surroundings. You two were alone on the training grounds. His posture relaxed slightly as he reached out to fix some of your lose hairs.

“You know I push you because I want to see you succeed,” he stated softly.

“I know, Lee. I know,” you smiled back, taking his hand out of your hair and into your own. “I’m starting to think your ‘reverse physiology’ isn’t working, though.”

“What do you mean?” He raised a single brow as he squeezed your hand and slowly led you back to the entrance of HQ.

“Acting harder on me to hide the fact you love me. It’s just drawing us more attention.” You shrugged.

Levi sighed, almost in defeat. “I suppose you’re right. I don’t like being hard on you. But with our positions in the Corps…You know this isn’t allowed.”

You mimicked his sigh, briefly leaning your head against his shoulder before the doors opened. Though all too soon, he pushed open the doors and let go of your hand, his face immediately set with indifference.

“I’ll see you tonight. Eyebrows wants us Captains and Section Commanders to report to him before tomorrow’s expedition.” He murmured softly in your ear before taking his leave, leaving you to find your own way to the mess hall for the evening.

Sitting with your companions, you picked listlessly at the food on your plate. Eld and Gunther were too caught up in their own conversation to notice your melancholy demeanor, while Oulo was far too focused on his plate to care.

Petra sat to your right, sipping from her cup but keeping a close eye on you. Catching her stare, you shoot her a reassuring smile.

The 56th expedition beyond the walls was the following day, and needless to say it weighed heavily on all your minds.

Petra placed a hand onto your shoulder and tried her best to smile back. She returned her attention back to her food, and you were quick to follow suit. But the longer you sat there, glancing up towards the empty seat at the head of the table, the less of an appetite you had.

If only we didn’t have to hide…

═════════════════

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel loosely around your body before braiding back your hair. You’d ate what you could stomach in the mess hall, then decided to retire to your room early to avoid having to socialize with anyone.

And by your room, you meant Levi’s personal room. You’d been staying with him for awhile now, though you’d have to sneak in early and leave even earlier in the morning to avoid being caught by anyone else.

Slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, you left his private bathroom and entered the bedroom.

“Well don’t you look lovely.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, and as it was you barely muffled a gasp.

“Shit Levi, I didn’t even hear you enter.”

Levi sat on the corner of his mattress, loose carvat around his neck and uniform straps removed from his torso and legs. He offered you a minuet smirk, then stood and strode over to you.

“Usually, you’re not in here till later,” he observed aloud.

“I wanted to retire early. Get a shower in, relax…See you…” You muttered sheepishly, playing with the hem of the shirt you wore.

Giving you a soft smile, his arms quickly found purchase around your waist. Immediately you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on his chest with a contented sigh.

You both stayed like that for a handful of minuets, living in the peaceful moment life had decided to grant you this evening. Suddenly, with a sigh, Levi slowly released you.

“Listen…About tomorrow-“

“I know, I know. ‘Stay close to the squad, don’t be a dumbass, and don’t die.’” You recited with a chuckle. Rolling his eyes with a huff, Levi led you to sit on the bed beside him.

“Precisely. You’d better watch yourself out there. I need…We need more moments like this; together. Can’t do that if your dumbass doesn’t come back.”

“You, too. You may be ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ and all, but I don’t want to see a single cut on you when we’re back.” You poked his at his chest playfully and leaned into his warm embrace.

“Yea, dear.” His mocking tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you could retort, you found yourself falling sideways onto the bed. Levi had shifted on the bed and let you fall forward so that he could stand up.

“Erwin made a comment tonight,” he spoke over his shoulder as he gathered up a change of clothes for himself.

“Oh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to follow him with your eyes.

“Said ‘You and Lieutenant Y/N make a good team. We’ll need you both on the far right of the formation.’” Levi quoted as he slipped on a new shirt.

“Then he pulled me aside after the meeting. ‘Don’t let personal feelings get in the way of the mission. I understand this may seem unfair to ask, but I’ve seen the way you look at your second in command .’, so I said I wouldn’t.”

Scoffing back a laugh, you grinned. “It’s a little too late for that.”

“By about two years, yeah.” Levi hummed in agreement, joining you in bed with a relaxed sigh.

You were quick to snuggle up to him, and his arm instinctively draped over your waist. Laying your head back onto his chest, you looked up at him. Only to find his gaze already on you. You knew that look in his eyes…

“Hey, I will come back. I always do,” you reassured him in a soft whisper.

“You’d better. I’m not sure what I’d do without you here,” he whispered back, letting his eyes close shut.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, you snuggled under the covers and closed your eyes. “You won’t ever have to find out,” was the last thing you whispered before you let your exhaustion take over.

═════════════════

3rd person POV

“The 56th expedition is about to begin; prepare yourselves!”

Commander Erwin’s voice boomed from the front of the formation, reaching every soldier under his command. With cheers from the civilians gathered around to see them off, Levi snuck one last glance over to you. Giving you a confident nod, he gripped the reins from atop his horse and stared straight ahead.

Soon enough, the gates opened wide, and the Survey Corps spilled out at a gallop.

For the first hour, everything was going smoothly. A handful of titans here and there were quickly dealt with by the S.O.S. Onwards they raced, until a splitting scream broke the eire silence hanging over them. Whipping her head forward, Y/N was quick to shoot her ODMG onto the nearest tree and grapple onto it. Despite her Captain’s screams of protest, Y/N was off.

Only a moment passed, and Levi had lost sight of her amongst the forming group of titans.

Half an hour later, Commander Erwin had called for a retreat. What had originally been a mere observation exposition, had turned into a blood bath. Only half the soldiers sent out had returned to the vantage point, and most were wounded.

Whether it be a deep cut or a punctured lung, the field medics were kept busy.

Captain Levi slid off his horse hastily, looking around at everyone gathered. His eyes scanned the loose crowd anxiously, but not once did his eager gaze meet yours. Panic bubbles up in his chest, but he manages to keep calm.

On the outside, anyways.

Once a frantic Preta comes running over to him, out of breath and panting, does he get a clue as to your whereabouts.

His ever present mask starts to shatter, and in an instant he’s sprinting across the open field towards the medic tents; your name on his lips.

The moment he entered one of the several tents set up not far outside the walls, the make-shift camp went silent.

Cadets and Captains alike all paused in their tasks when a broken cry came from the larger of the tents set up.

Everyone turned their heads towards the sound. A sight lay before them they never thought they would ever see before; Humanity’s strongest solder nearly buckling under his own weight, clutching at the flaps of the center most medical tent as he cried out in fear.

Many crowded around him, fearful for his safety and curious of any injuries he might have sustained. But once they were able to see over shoulder, the truth hit them like a punch to the face.

Levi had rushed to one of the beds in the tent, falling to his knees and grasping the hand of the person who laid unconscious under the sheets.

Pushing through the crowd, Commander Erwin and Section Commander Hange softly gasped at the sight of Levi’s second in command, Lieutenant Y/N, out cold on the cot.

“The hell are you doing?! Tend to her, that’s an order!” Levi barked out harshly to one of the medics, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

For a moment, no one knew what to do. Every rumor of the raven before them being unemotional quickly went out the window as they finally understood.

The cold man did have a heart. And it belonged to you.

═════════════════

Reader’s POV

The last thing you remembered, was rushing out of formation to save the poor cadet caught in the grasp of a fifteen meter. Your blades were at the ready, gleaming in the sunlight reflected off the cloudy sky overhead.

The moment you freed the cadet from the monster’s grasp, you realized a fatal mistake you’d made; you’d gotten too close to its mouth.

In a moment of panic, you twisted yourself in midair and made to get away, but you were far too late. In a mere second that seemed to last an eternity, you felt a searing white hot pain erupt near your right hip. Screaming out in pain and frustration, you managed to swing your arm back just far enough to jab your blade into the titan’s lip, causing its jaw to lock for a moment as it processed what you were doing.

This gave you enough time to wiggle your way out from between its teeth, shooting your ODM gear hooks into its shoulder and glide away.

Despite the amount of blood you were losing, as well as the blinding pain that threatened to render you unconscious at any moment, you’d swung yourself up into a sharp arch and sliced through its tough nape.

With the titan’s corpse, you fell as well. An intense ringing sounded in your ears when you opened your eyes, only to see the young cadet hovering over you with tears in their eyes. Faintly, you heard them mention a medic, but then your eyes shut against your will.

Before you lost consciousness, your mind drifted back in time, to a moment you last remembered experiencing joy. That very morning, in fact.

The way you’d woken up cocooned in the arms of your lover, feeling warm and safe. Not a care in the world, as you ignored your soon to be pending responsibilities. The way you had looked up and seen his smile, so bright and genuine and filled with such love.

If this is it, then I’m glad he’s the last thing I remember seeing…

Some time later, much to your confusion, your eyes cracked open to see a window. Sunlight poured through, nearly threatening to blind you as you lifted a weak arm up to block the light.

A groan left your lips as you tried to sit up, only to find you couldn’t manage the movement on your own. Reaching down below the covers that covered your midsection with your other hand, you felt the distinct material of thick medical wraps around your midsection. It was slightly damp, and you caught the faint whiff of blood.

Confusion clouded your judgment, causing you to try and remove the bandages to see what exactly was wrong with you. You supposed you were back in HQ, safely within the infirmary. Yet when you tried to shift your shoulders forward to remove the cloths, you suddenly became aware of a weight pressing down on your left shoulder.

Turning your head, you squinted your eyes at the veil of raven black hair obscuring your vision.

Only one thing came to mind when seeing the color…

“Levi?” you managed to croak out.

Immediately the weight shifted, and a face rose up from your shoulder where it had previously rested. Tired grey eyes met yours, and immediately widened.

“Y/N,” Levi whispered, almost in disbelief. Sitting up straight in the chair he sat in beside your bed, his hand immediately came up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re awake…”

“No shit, babe.”

Biting back a chuckle, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’ve been out of it for three days…How do you feel? Can I get you anything? Water? More blankets? Do your wraps need replaced yet?”

“Levi, baby, slow down…What-what happened?” You couldn’t help but for a soft chuckle to escape you at his worried tone. Immediately, a scowl took over his face.

“Your dumb fucking ass got hurt. You promised…You idiot.” He whispered, his eyes giving him away. He could look as mad as he wanted, but his eyes would always tell you exactly what he was really thinking. He was scared shitless, but also relieved.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, running your shaking hands through his hair. “I wanted to save that kid. They looked so scared…Ao helpless…But what matters right now, is that we’re both safe. We made it back in once piece.”

Levi took your words into consideration, his brow furrowed and his eyes frantically searching your face. Finally, with a sigh, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your gently. It wasn’t a rushed kiss, nor a heated one. Moreover, it was soft. Reassuring, for both you and him. Kissing him back just as softly, you allowed your tense posture to relax softly.

Breaking away, his face stayed within an inch of yours as he caught his breath. “Don’t you ever dare scare me like that again. I made a fucking fool of myself out there, thinking I was too late…”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you chuckled teasingly.

“Shut up, you know what I meant,” he breathed, his breath hitting against your now damp lips.

“I’m sorry. I really am, Lee. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Looking you in the eye for confirmation, Levi seemed to come to terms with your statement and leaned in once more, quickly taking your lips back to rest against his own.

From the infirmary threshold, the door creaked open slightly. Yet neither you nor Levi seemed to notice.

On the other side peaked in a curious Hange and a concerned Erwin. Upon seeing the sight displayed before them, Erwin had to hold Hange back from squeaking in excitement.

“I told you something was going on between the two of them!“ they shouted in a hushed voice.

Shaking his head with a weary smile, Erwin closed the door to the infirmary and headed back down the hall with the scientist.

“I know. They think they’re clever in hiding it, but two years ago I walked into Levi’s office and saw something similar. But for now, let’s let them continue to live in blissful ‘secrecy’ a little longer.”

[otherone12]

I Don't Need a VIP Pass

Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Heyy!! This fic was quite short, but I really think it turned out well… anyway, I don't think there was any reason to extend it. Hupe u enjoy it!

(Plz sand me requests! Literally anything... )

Summary: You are a non-public Gerard's partner, 'because you never really cared about put this under the spotlight, 'cause you love each other and thats enough for you. He invited you to see MCR's concert, but you didn't found him anfter the show. Looking for him, you went to the "meet & great" area, but you haven't a VIP pass.

- Word Count: 900

- Warnings: None :)

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

The crowd’s cheers still echoed in my ears as I maneuvered backstage, a mix of adrenaline and nerves coursing through me. MCR had just put on an epic show, and all I wanted was to be with Gerard, like we always do after shows. 

Our post-show meetings are practically a ritual. Right after the show I meet him backstage, then we go to the hotel and enjoy some of the quiet time we have during the tour. When there's a meet-and-greet, it's customary for us to see each other beforehand, and I stand nearby waiting. But this time I couldn't find him anywhere.

- Did anyone see Gee? - I called out, trying to maintain my composure as the backstage chaos unfolded around me. It was usually easy to find him, everyone here knew I was his girlfriend, and I never needed any pass or else. But tonight, the backstage area felt like a maze, and I was losing my sense of direction.

- Good luck finding him! - Frank joked as he rushed past me. - He’s probably off kissing some fan or something.

- Ha, very funny, - I shot back, rolling my eyes. But my heart raced with a mix of annoyance and concern. He always made it a point to find me right after the show. Why was this time different?

I made my way toward the meet-and-greet area, where fans buzzed with excitement, but my stomach twisted when I couldn’t spot Gerard’s familiar bright-red hair in the crowd.

A couple of girls, probably around my age, stood near the front. They looked like they knew everything going on so I approached them casually.

- Hey, have you seen Gerard? - I asked calmly - I’ve been looking everywhere for him.

One of the girls immediately gave me the up-and-down, zeroing in on my neck.

- You don’t have a VIP pass. - she said, in an affronting tone.

- Yeah, I know, - I forced a smile, tryng to keep calm - I don’t need one.

I kept my eyes darting around, trying to spot him.

- Well, we paid for ours, so we do need one. - Her friend snorted and rolled her eyes. - If you don't have a pass, you're not supposed to be here.

Her voice dripped with that Karen-level smugness, making my skin prickle.

- I’m not here to meet the band, I’m just looking for Gerard.

 I said, trying even hard to keep calm. My patience was wearing thin.

She crossed her arms with a mean smirk.

- Well, too bad. If you don’t leave, I’ll get security.

I took a deep breath, again, forcing myself to relax, though anxiety and frustration gnawed at me. Where the hell was he?

- Look, I don’t want trouble, -  I said, my voice tight. - I just need to find Gee-

- SECURITY! - she yelled, cutting me off.

A wave of exasperation hit me like a truck. Great.

A large security guard lumbered toward me, parting the crowd with the sheer size of his presence. 

- Where’s your VIP pass? -  he asked gruffly, crossing his arms.

- I. Don’t. Need. One. - I clenched my jaw.

- Why do you think you’re so special, huh? - The obnoxious girl made a loud scoff, apparently trying to get as many people as possible to look at the whole scene

I was about to open my mouth and replace her. The things running into my mind to say that weren't friendly at all, but when I saw Gerard, weaving through the crowd, with that cute smile I loved so much and his hazel eyes sparkling under the dim lights, relief flooded me.

- Gee! - I called, waving at him.

- Sugar! - His face lit up when he saw me. 

 He practically ran over, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

- There you are, - he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. - I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

- So was I,- I said with a grin, running my hand along his cheek and pulling him in for a proper kiss. 

His lips met mine slowly, sweetly, in that overly dramatic way only Gerard could pull off. And, of course, I made sure the smug fan saw every second of it.

When we finally pulled apart, I glanced at her. The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide, mouth agape, disbelief painted across every feature. I couldn’t resist shooting her a wicked grin.

- That’s why I don’t need a VIP pass, - I murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

- What? - Gerard blinked, confused but amused. 

- Never mind.-  I held his leather jacket, pulling him for a kiss again, smirking against his lips before pulling away. - But next time, babe, can you make sure I get a VIP pass?

I know that wasn’t nice for me to doing this, but damn it was so fun. I made sure to get the most touchy possible while we’re talking, hands under his jacket, hugging him.

- Why? - He raised an eyebrow, grinning.

- Because I really don’t want to have to punch your fans. -  I wrinkled my nose playfully.

- You wouldn’t-

- Oh, I would,- I teased, cutting him off - For you? In a heartbeat.

He let out a soft whine, squeezing me tighter. 

- But they’re not like groupies… just enthusiastic fans, babe, you know that.

I gave him a sly look. 

- Sure, Gee. Whatever you say. - I packed his lips one last time before we walked away together.

___________________________________________

~ Soo that's it! Lemme know if u liked it! <3

[boobabietch]

Chapter II: "A Rookie’s Obsession, A Legend’s Indifference: Is Diana Taurasi ready for Victoria O’Hara?” | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: fight fight fight!! And a tad bit narcissistic Diana

A/N: I’m having a shitload of fun writing this lmao, so here’s another chapter I hope you like. As always English is not my first language so if you find something wrong tell me so I can change it asap, I can’t wait for y’all to read this and the next chapters I’m so excited. Likes, comments (!!!) and reblogs are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

There’s a funny thing about being the best in women’s sports. People either love you or wait for you to fall. But when you’ve been around long enough, it doesn’t matter what they think. You know your place. And you protect it.

That’s what I’ve been doing since my debut in the WNBA. Owning the court. Owning the pressure. Every game, every season, everyone expects the same thing from me: perfection. Winning is never enough because when your name is Diana Taurasi, nothing is ever enough.

Then, she showed up.

Victoria O’Hara. The rookie everyone wouldn’t shut up about. Reminded me of me, hungry, talented, a little too much attitude for her own good. The first time I saw her was just before our game against San Antonio. I’d heard her name, knew she had something. But there’s a difference between hype and reality.

May 19, 2017

Game day. I could feel her eyes on me during warm-ups, it was cute honestly, I could see the gears working hard on her mind, probably wondering what it’s like to be me, to dominate the way I have. They all wonder. But what she didn’t know yet is that being good in college doesn’t mean shit here. Welcome to the W, kid.

I didn’t give her a second glance. What was there to say? Another rookie trying to prove something. I’ve seen it all. I’ve been that girl. But this one, this woman, had something extra in her. I could see it the minute the game started. Every time she took a shot, it was like she was aiming at me, if I didn’t know she wanted to rip my throat out I’d say she was in love. Every drive, every step, was a challenge.

I could hear the yelling in the crowd, I’d hear her teammates tell her to relax, feel the energy shift. People loved watching us, golden veteran vs. golden rookie. A fucking classic. O’Hara wanted to make a statement. I could tell she was on the edge, burning herself out just to prove she belonged. And every time, I’d remind her, I’ve been there. I’ve fought harder battles. If she wanted to be the next big thing, she was going to have to earn it. She was good, but I wasn’t worried. I’ve dealt with players like her before. They rise fast, burn out faster. But this one... she kept pushing.

Every game we played after that, it was like she had a personal vendetta. I couldn’t walk on the court without feeling her eyes drilling into me. She was obsessed. It was funny, really. This kid was trying so hard to beat me, to make me see her.

I saw her. I always see them coming.

July 7, 2017

We were in San Antonio. Close game. O’Hara played her heart out, I’ll give her that. But we still won. After the game, I found her slumped on the bench, wiped out. I should’ve just left her there. But something in me couldn’t resist. The kid had fire. I respected that.

“Not bad, O’Hara. Keep it up, and you might actually be a challenge someday.”

Her face said it all. She was rattled, but she had that spark. I liked seeing it. She looked at me like she was trying to figure out if I was serious. I was. Kinda. Then, she shot back:

“Someday? I’m already a problem for you.”

I almost laughed. Her confidence was impressive, misplaced, but impressive. I glanced down, smirked. Let her have that moment.

“Of course you are,” I said, walking off.

Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I never said that, lucky for everyone I did.

July 30, 2017

Maybe I overestimated how in control I am of everything; the game, the rookie, and my body.

We were playing again, tensions running high. It was bound to happen. O’Hara wanted her moment, wanted to prove herself. And me? I wasn’t giving her an inch. Then, somewhere in the third quarter, it happened.

I saw her coming, her eyes locked on me with a mix of defiance and determination. She made a quick drive, cutting to the basket with an intensity that almost made me respect her. But I wasn’t about to let a rookie get one over on me. I slammed into her, blocking her path with enough force to knock her off balance. She hit the floor hard, her elbows scraping against the court. The whistle blew, and for a moment, I watched her lay there, her frustration almost palpable.

“Get up,” I muttered, standing over her. “You’re gonna need more than that to take me down, rook”

I saw the anger in her eyes as she pushed herself up, pressing her chest on mine. Damn, was she this tall the whole time? The way she glared at me, it was almost as if she was daring me to push her further. “You think you’re untouchable? Just fucking wait.”

My smirk didn’t waver. I’d seen that fire in rookies before, puffed up, ready to prove themselves. “I don’t think, O’Hara. I know.” I said with the most arrogant tone I owned.

“Oh you’re just a fucking bitch, aren’t you?” Before I could react further, she shoved me hard. Everyone erupted into chaos. I felt the rush of adrenaline as I moved to shove her back, but the moment I lunged, my teammates were already there, hands gripping my arms and holding me back.

O’Hara wasn’t any better off. Many of her teammates were swarming around her, trying to pull her away from me. I could see the frustration in her eyes as she struggled against their hold, her fists clenched and ready to throw.

Fun fact about fights: when you need the strength of 4 pro basketball players to hold you back, it makes you look really fucking dangerous.

We both tried to break through the human barriers restraining us. I could almost feel the impact of our fists connecting, the unfinished fight burning in my veins. But with every struggle, every strained push against the hands holding us back, the reality set in: we were not going to get to finish this here.

I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the cameras, the refs, or the impending technical. All I cared about was feeling that fire she was throwing at me. I wanted her to know what it felt like to face me, to try and break through the wall I’d built around myself.

Eventually, the refs managed to get us both under control, leading us to opposite sides of the court. As I was pulled away, I couldn’t help but glance back at O’Hara, her eyes still blazing with that same fire. Despite the chaos, a small part of me felt a twisted respect for her, a rookie who was not just willing to challenge me, but was ready to throw down if necessary.

The arena buzzed with excitement and disbelief as we were separated, but the fight between us was far from over.

That was the moment I knew this kid wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe, just maybe, I’d finally met someone who could keep up.

Little did I know.

Fucking Victoria.

"Rivalry Ignites: O’Hara and Taurasi Get into Fiery Altercation During Friday Game"

"San Antonio Stars Victoria O’Hara Adidas Grey and Black Edition Player Jersey | SOLD OUT"

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[brokenpieces-72]

Dark Reader Anyone? Haven't seen any of that anywhere. Like it's always dark 141 this or that but never DARK READER.

I disappear to the abyss now

Oh we going into the darkness now… excellent. To be honest didn’t know how this would go. Now it’s sort of an alternate timeline to the current hybrid story line. For some context you’re the mother in this one.

TW: Dark reader, Manipulation, obsessive parent, kind of yandere, mentions of a foster system, mentions of child neglect, let me know if I’ve missed any.

A young girl with antlers and rabbit ears, it’s hard to over look that description. You’d finally get your daughter back but she was working for mercenaries. All you had to do was enlist. You had your own methods of persuasion, it was a matter of using them. Each proved a challenge, but once you showed an interest in Hunter beyond making the other hybrids jealous it was easy enough.

Rodolfo is human, and while his mutts were protective of their vessel it was easy enough J to garner favour with them. Working with him got you closer to Alejandro too, but of course you couldn’t let them know that. Rodolfo was the only one you were focused on around him. If he brought up Alejandro on his own then you would talk about him, learning more about weaknesses. Rodolfo is a caring person, you understand that.

Alejandro, such a good kitty. He taught you to fight and you didn’t back down from him. A gentleman, maybe but you had him in your clutches with a smile. The only thing that could kill Alejandro was Alejandro, but you don’t need him to die. You just needed him to know your troubles. With a few comments and subtle hints you got him to build sympathy for you, brushing off initial inquiries. Then an invitation for a private conversation, concerned words, and his worry for your little one is matched to yours, but of course you love your baby more.

Johnny was a sweet puppy and showed himself to be friendly enough. He was so easy to play with, oh if you could keep him all to yourself you would. And when he shifted to full size, trying to impress you, it was adorable. He was on an easy leash in no time.

Kyle was stuck in his shell only poking his head out to help everyone else. Some eggs needed to be cracked. A visit with him and confessing you were a mother who lost your baby girl to hunters all because she was different was so easy. He offered to look out for anyone by your daughter’s description, wanting to help you. Such a pretty bird he was, willing to watch over you, and retrieve your baby bunny for you.

Simon, what could you say about Simon. He was a hard, cold man. There was a darkness surrounding him constantly. A hurt, one that you would try to remedy but a soft touch made him pull away almost immediately. He took the longest to gain trust from. Showing an understanding of boundaries was perfect, as he slowly opened them to you. Learning more about his past you show sympathy, despite you knowing he was an absolute monster. No way in hell would you want him near your precious child. Clearly he was in control now, but you needed to be careful. One wrong move in front of him meant losing everything you were working on.

Price was the key though, one that took pleasure in the pleasure of his men. If his men felt safe and happy, he was content. Joining his hoard wasn’t easy. Now you may as well be the shining jewel, proving yourself to be invaluable. You understood medical, were a great shot, and pushed yourself. Your relationship with each of them was strong, but something did bother him. Your past was redacted in some areas, so he called you to his office one day. Seeing the file your heart skipped a beat, fearing what he may have found.

“You have a daughter?” He asked. You nodded.

“I’m sorry sir.” You said.

“She was taken from you.” He continued. “Hunters found her and she was removed from your home. They assumed neglect. What is your side?”

You looked up at him finding concerned eyes. Eyes that wanted to help you. The face of a man who was empathetic.

…perfect.

“I had to raise her as a single parent. Sometimes life was difficult because she couldn’t always go out with her friends. I should have noticed it sooner but she became very sick, and when I was out one night she wandered outside. With her antlers and ears and her clothes being torn and dirty…” you cleared your throat, biting back your tears. “Couldn’t give her a good life so they took her away from me.”

You didn’t make eye contact with the captain, feeling ashamed. You know you did your best, you tried so hard to make her happy, but everyone kept trying to take her from you. She worked hard for you too, hunting and finding food for herself. It wasn’t good enough though. Price was still quiet, while you played with your hands.

“We’ve found her.” He said. You looked up at him, his face showing he cared. There was a hint of a smile, pleased to see your hopeful gaze. Behind it, there was a catch. Something that would make it difficult to see your sweet girl again. “Your daughter was put in a program intended to help rehabilitate hybrids, much like a foster care program. They’re assigned a mentor of sorts to keep them safe, teach them about their abnormalities, help them with basic education, etc. and your daughter was recently assigned to a position.”

“How do you mean?” You asked, voice shaking. They were helping you, they would get your daughter back.

“Hybrids can be assigned to companies and work positions where their abilities can be beneficial. Sergeant Garrick had been looking into some of the organizations and learned about your daughter’s placement. Which brings me to another question.” The captain said. You tensed a little, knowing what he would ask about.

“Your daughter is labelled in her file as a jackalope hybrid but with a shifter form. A Wendigo.” Price went on. Your expression told him everything you wanted. That you had no idea, no one had told you, information about your baby girl had been kept limited.

“No no… she’s…” you trailed off. The captain sighed, letting out some wisps of smoke. You were a poor mother who had her child ripped from her with little explanation. Now you’ve learned your daughter this whole time had been a monstrous man eater. It’s hard not to laugh at how easily Price was falling for it.

“I can imagine it’s rather difficult to hear this.” Price said. “She was placed in KorTac, a group of mercenaries. They have other hybrids there, and her mentor is still present ensuring her diet is kept regulated so the Wendigo does not endanger anyone.”

“Why would they put her there?!” You blurted. A moment of weakness in your facade hearing your precious daughter had been placed in such a dangerous environment. Price’s tail flicked once, a little startled by your outburst. To be expected though he figured. You cleared your throat, apologizing for your behaviour.

“We believe it’s related to her Wendigo side. She’s okay there, and missions are kept simple for her at the moment along with proper training.” Price continued. You nodded, trying to show some understanding. There was a paise before you asked the very question any caring mother would ask.

“Would it be possible to see her?” You asked.

“No.” Price said, empathetic. You nod as if you could understand why.

“We intend to get her back for you.” Price said. When you looked back up, you see a smug look on the captain face. You give him a hopeful smile, trying to hide your desire to laugh at him. He was so willing to go head first into danger with the rest of the team. Price stood up and circled around his desk looking down at you, arms crossed.

“I’m not about to let one of my best be denied her rights. That little girl deserves her mama.” Price said. You stood ready to go as soon as he gave the order. For now you’re given his gentle hands on your shoulders, and a gaze from the most pleased dragon, with a hint of glass.

“It will take some time, but we will get her back, kicking and screaming if we have to.” Price assured you. You’re dismissed and you returned to your room, tears running down your face. The other men offer some smiles to you, and you return them until you get to your room and shut the door.

Finally, you’d have your baby back… and you had a task force of monsters in the palm of your hands ready to kill anyone standing in your way.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends

[localplaguenurse]

pantalone girl dad headcannons? for ya girl with daddy issues? 🥺🥺🥺

I’ve had this very concept rattling around in my brain for a while, in part because of the brainstorming I did for the discontinued Helina fic. Honestly, if I do ever bring that back (do not hold me to that my beta reader WILL kill me), I think I’d just do the occasional one shot. I guess these will also sort of count as spoilers but again, not writing it, so it’s better to just get it out of my head here. Also, I do have another dad Pantalone one shot from when I first started writing that may be a nice read afterwards.

Okay, that’s my rambling quota for the day. I have headcanons to write!

Notes: Because most of this was from my discontinued dad Pantalone fic, it’s all focused purely on the father-daughter relationship. Other than that, mainly domestic fluff with a few references to Pantalone’s impoverished background.

Pantalone Being a Girl Dad

He never thought he’d be one of those “girl dads.” Not that he wouldn’t love a little girl of his own, but because he found the notion a bit silly. What difference does it make if it’s a little girl instead of a little boy?

In spite of that, the moment she’s placed in his arms and he sees her little face, he is absolutely smitten. She’s this tiny squealing thing with dull eyes and hardly any hair, and already he’s completely wrapped around her tiny wrinkly finger.

(Or technically it’s her tiny wrinkly baby fist wrapped around his finger, but that’s all semantics.)

When his daughter was a little baby, he had to stop wearing his chain so she wouldn’t yank his glasses off his face. He still wore his rings, though he made sure to wear ones that were smooth or didn’t have many stones on the off chance she started gnawing on his fingers while he wasn’t looking. He’d feel awful if she cut her little gums.

Never baby talks to his daughter. He’ll coo and hum and speak softly, but no special baby talk voice. He instead speaks to her like he would anyone else. Those two would have full on (mostly one sides) conversations where his daughter would babble incoherent baby nonsense, and he’d start yapping as if she’s made some brilliant argument.

Having a chatterbox for a father results in two things, the first being that his little girl starts talking before other babies her age, and then other is that she can and often will fall asleep in the middle of him talking to her.

Best bedtime story reader, period.

Her first word was “dada” and the way Pantalone was beaming the rest of the week, you’d think his vast fortune had doubled overnight.

Loves brushing and styling his daughter’s hair. Will braid ribbons into her hair for special occasions, or if she asks nicely and he has the time. 

Whenever she gets a new dress, she makes a big show of spinning around to show off how cute she looks. Pantalone smiles and claps every time, getting a big grin from his little girl.

I headcanon Pantalone has a rather thorough skincare routine, so I like to imagine she joins him before getting ready for bed. She doesn’t need a million lotions, creams and cleansers, goodness no, so instead she just gets a good face wash, brushes her teeth and combs her hair. It’s a good way to get her settled and ready for bed, and it’s good to teach her personal hygiene early in life so she’ll know what to do when she actually needs those cleansers.

(Plus, seeing her father covered in green goo is really funny.)

Because I also headcanon Pantalone as being prone to developing tinea veriscolor, his daughter would also have it, and in that case he rubs some tea tree oil on her skin where it would be most affected, primarily the neck and shoulder areas.

He spoils her, of course, but is very careful not to spoil her rotten. While he’d love to provide his flesh and blood with a childhood he never had– one where there is always a roof over their heads, food on the table, and all the best toys and clothes money can buy– he’s spent too much time around the snotty brats his various partners and clients have (hardly) raised and he is not tolerating that sort of behaviour from his own daughter.

While he certainly buys her the best toys and clothes he can (anything for his little princess), he works to instill a sense of value in such items, the idea that you must take care of your possessions because you may not be able to truly replace them.

He’ll leave repairing any torn or stained clothes to professional tailors, he himself will take to stitching up a ripped teddy bear or doll when his daughter brings them to him. He takes them from her before wiping away the tears in her little eyes.

Unexpected perks to being a father: using your child as an excuse to not talk to that really annoying client who hasn’t taken the seven business proposal rejections as a hint already.

They have actual tea parties. It’s their designated daddy-daughter bonding time where she gets to tell him all about school or her friends or anything remotely interesting.

Yapping is a dominant gene it would appear, though his daughter has also become a rather good listener. She’s also very good at math.

Whenever Pantalone has to travel for work, he will always bring something back for his little girl. Sometimes it’s a new toy or game, or new clothes that match the style of wherever he visits, or new kinds of candy to try. When she’s older, he might even start bringing her along if he’ll be gone for extended periods of time.

He absolutely commissioned a tiny harbinger coat for her. I will not be swayed.

That said, he isn’t always perfect. There will be times where frustration gets the better of him and he snaps at her when she is misbehaving or is pestering him when he needs to focus. The guilt is instantaneous, and gets worse when he sees tears well up in her eyes. He crouches to her level and apologizes, offering a hug as well. She’ll usually take him up on it, though he’ll respect her boundaries if she wants space, even if it does break his heart a little bit.

Sometimes his rough upbringing comes up, and it’s usually in regards to food. He’s definitely had the “when I was your age I had to eat from the trash” or “there are starving children on the streets” talk whenever his daughter was picky about food. Arlecchino happened to be visiting once when he brought it up again, and she had to explain that such talk would give her a complex regarding food.

He’ll try a different approach after that talk. Maybe it’s not so much the food, but rather how it’s prepared that is the issue, or maybe some ingredients can be substituted to create an equally nutritious but more palatable meal?

When she gets sick, he tries not to let his worry show. He knows it’s a cold, he does, and he knows that a little medicine and plenty of rest will help her, but all he can think of are the sickly children he grew up alongside and how horribly ill they were before… never mind that, it’s a cold, she’ll be fine.

At the end of the day, he only wants the absolute best for his daughter. He wants to love her the way he wishes he was loved.

He sometimes doubts if he’s truly doing a good enough job of raising her, wondering if he’s too strict at times or not strict enough, or if he’s providing for her financially but not quite meeting her emotional needs. She’ll never know about those doubts, though. He won’t let her.

Still, he must be doing something right to have such a bright daughter who never forgets to say “please” and “thank you,” who is more excited to hug her dad after a long trip than open the presents he brings her, and always tells her she loves him before she dozes off to sleep.

[urlocalbone]

Arekti Premer Golpo (2010)/// Rituporno Ghosh

As a brown skinned queer girl, born in a country where identifying as *not straight* will get you to jail, I really didn’t have much icons to look up to growing up. The activists in the only formal LGBTQ organisation in our country were all killed off in 2013 (a hushed topic no one knows), so it’s scary as hell. Classmates calling me *hijra* because I liked girls along with boys. Frenemies sending me advice articles on *how not to be gay*. Juniors laughing at my *gender identity* and pronouns. I’ve had it all.

My mom always liked Rituporno Ghosh, saying his films equate to art, but would never show me who he was. Why? My young self wandered off and researched him up a bit. I was shocked to find an androgynous role model, a person who shared the same skin tone as me. It might sound silly today, but it surely meant a lot to the 13 year old fuddled up about her identity in the world.

Years have passed. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I’ve learnt to cut off remarks that do not matter. Ex boyfriend texted that I *looked gay* in a certain Instagram post, I replied *omg thanks <3*. Pansexuality has become such a deep part of me today that it doesn’t feel different. I’m the same human, ok?

I decided to watch up Rituporno’s most iconic film today. It is not a very *talked about film* in the Bengali industry.

Rituporno introduces melancholy as the main theme of the entire story. A gay man wanting to hide behind the story of the film he’s making. Being in love with someone he can’t have forever. As “Basu” describes in a shot, they’re lovers on the run.

Drawing from historic references and *Jatra*, he also explores the androgyny in the Bengali traditions. It magnifies the aesthetic appeal of the film even more. Lovely lovely camera work.

One of the main successes of the themes of “Arekti Premer Golpo”, in my opinion, is that it is close to reality than most other queer stories. The other upbeat netflix series stuff show a very utopian world where LGBTQ lovers live in an accepting world, almost isolated to only themselves. But Rituporno illustrates complex relationship dynamics in his films, leaving the audience to wonder the real chemistry between them (I still need to research).

It’s brain food, it’s thoughtful. I love it.

absolutely 9/10.

@jukti-torko-golpo @amar-hiyar-majhe @shubhadeep385 @il-ragazzo @gorgpearllatte @augustineprime @dewaniiiii @faewong

[writella]

There is no firm thesis here, I’m just thinking out loud:

I love the scene in episode 8x05, “The Big Scary U,” when Daryl and Rick are arguing about what to do with the guns and explosives they were able to capture from one of the Saviors that escaped the fallen outpost. I feel like it’s a perfect moment that describes the emotions and motives the duo— that we know and love and is for the most part always in sync— to show how their motives differ in season 8 because of what happen to them individually in season 7 despite having the same objective.

Firstly, Rick and Daryl are such incredible characters that we’ve fallen for because of their nuance, duality, how they have overcome pain and loss, and of course, the lengths they would go to fight for their loved ones. I think for the most part, a lot of fans would say they are heroes because of that last part.

We also love them together as a duo because of these similarities, but we also love them because of how much they love each other despite being so different— it’s what makes them brothers. We are inspired by how Rick protects as a leader just as much as how Daryl protects as an individualist. And we typically get to see how they usually are able to take their differences in how they do things and bring it together to reach similar goals.

This is shown in season 2 where Daryl still prefers to be on his own and sleeps outside of the Greene house, making it seem like he isn’t a team player, yet he rose up as the person who searched for Sophia endlessly because he knew that was Carol’s child (and because he related to her as a lost and lonely child, but that’s another topic). I don’t remember who else thought so, but Carol and Rick understood how admirable this was and saw his dedication to the group which is why Rick ask or told Daryl he should stay when Daryl was about to go off with Merle. Nonetheless, he respected Daryl’s decision to leave because it was his choice (and Rick wouldn’t leave his family behind either). Similarly in season 3, we have the “ricktatorship” era starting from that speech he gives at the end of season 2 as I’ve seen some call it, it doesn’t seem like Rick taking on such a ruthless leadership role would be the thing Daryl would get down behind because of his nature, but there is a moment in season 3 where despite Carol questioning Rick morality, Daryl calls him a good man and or acknowledges the work Rick put in to get the group to the prison. These two examples are just some of the moments where Daryl and Rick have respected each others differences which have only increased their trust and care for one another and have only progressed the group further as a unit. I feel like there are better examples, but I’ll digress.

That’s why I think it always hits so hard when they are not on the same page. Something feels off and it makes you sad. Furthermore, as shown in the show, bad things happen when they aren’t on the same page regardless of our feelings as fans which is reason in of itself to know that when things are off between them, things don’t end well.

In that scene during 8x05 that I wanted to describe, both character’s opinions are more than completely valid:

Daryl was taken from his family by Negan right at the start of season 7. He was tortured, beaten, and given dog food as meals. It’s sad to say, but it’s understandable why he forgot to consider the workers inside the Sanctuary before suggesting to blow the place up. Negan and Dwight specifically have caused Daryl so much pain, of course he would want to burn it down like he did that house with Beth in season 4.

On the other hand, we see that Rick is still continually struggling with his inner rage, the ruthless things he can do, and how much he will kill to save his family and the society he is trying to build.

I love the shot of Rick in the episode before this one where he is looking at himself in the mirror after he found out the man that he killed had a baby girl, just like him. An exemplary “who even am I,” moment. Especially since this is in the midst of this war, and his personal plan to kill Negan. It’s as if to say ‘how can a preach about taking down those who threaten our freedom and kill unrighty when maybe I’m like that myself.’

I think that moment along with the feeling of defeat and loss he felt as Negan tore into Alexandria and hurt people he cares about is what causes him to rightly consider if it is just to burn the Sanctuary down. Moreover, Rick thinking tactically as well: he doesn’t want to not kill the workers just because they are civilians, but even worse, if they fail at killing them this would only make the workers more inclined to fight with the Saviors.

As shown, both Daryl and Rick have the same objective, but different perspectives of how to achieve it. With both having such strong opinions along with the traumatic experiences to back it up, they simply can’t reach, or in actuality don’t want to come to a shared conclusion, leading them to fight and in the meantime the weapons they needed and fought to get blow up regardless.

But once again despite their brotherhood showing their stark differences, it also always shows their deep care for one another because the reason they escape from being hurt in the explosion is though of their love for one another. Despite literally being in the middle of choking Rick, Daryl sees the explosion starting to rise and tells Rick to move and they both help each other jump out of the way.

Obviously those weapons were vital. The soldiers of the Kingdom are gone and Jadis’ community won’t help, so loosing guns and explosives that had power like that to take down the Sanctuary was a great loss and, perhaps metaphorically, it happened because Rick and Daryl were on opposite sides about what to do.

In an even more tragic example, this is similar to Daryl and Rick’s attitudes during Jesus’ introduction episode in season 6:

Again, Daryl and Rick have the same objective: catch Jesus, who was then just the guy who stole their supplies. At first, Rick decides to ask Jesus the questions to see if they can take him back to Alexandria, but Daryl objects says he’s not the right pick, and then when they’re distracted Jesus steals their truck leading them to chase him which is what Rick wanted anyway— to find out more about who he is and where he’s from— while Daryl believes it isn’t worth the trouble. With both men being so bent on getting their things back and and Rick’s desire to find out who Jesus was, this is a huge reason, among others, that led to Alexandria’s servitude to Negan and the Saviors— if they never met Jesus and the Hilltop community, maybe they would have never killed all the people at that first outpost.

Then again, the group encountering the Saviors was inevitable. And maybe those small riffs between Rick and Daryl that lead to bad things happening is what leads to necessary change.

Although taking down that outpost is what really riled Negan up to kill Glenn and Abraham in front of everyone, there were other moments that foreshadowed the inevitable servitude Alexandria would be forced to endure. I know there are others, but the first thing that comes up is when Daryl is stuck on the road with Sacha and Abraham and a group of guys on bikes won’t allow them through so Daryl decides to blow them up before they kill them… those were Saviors right? Anyway, and if they hadn’t met Jesus in the first place, they wouldn’t have made bonds with the Hilltop or have ever met the people of the Kingdom. Two groups that were already at the mercy of the Saviors wrath and needed encouragement from Rick and Alexandria to take a stance again their oppressor. There is power in numbers and they wouldn’t have had that if they didn’t meet first or at all.

Anyway I’m not saying that it’s only Rick and Daryl’s actions that caused all of this or cause all bad things to happen, but seeing as they are two or the biggest characters in the show and they have a lot of impact on what happens to those around them, their viewpoints and actions matter immensely to the trajectory of the show.

Then again, I still haven’t finished season 8 so maybe I’m just writing nonsense. I just love Rick and Daryl’s relationship and how their hardships and personalities affect what decisions they make and the kind of people they continue to become.

Any thoughts?

[lajulie24]

B & Y

B. What was the first fandom you read fic in? Which was the first you wrote fic for?

The answer for both is technically Star Wars, meaning that I didn’t specifically write something that was intended as fanfic until I started writing for Star Wars, and that was shortly after having discovered AO3 and reading Star Wars fanfic there.

But after I’d been writing for a while, I realized that I’d been doing some form of fanfic creation ever since I can remember — making up stories from my favorite shows or characters or situations the whole time I was growing up. I spent HOURS on the swingset in my backyard as a kid, dreaming up scenarios and stories and conversations. I think I just never wrote them as fanfic because I didn’t think I was…allowed to? So I played with the characters but then when writing stories would sort of do the file off the serial numbers thing so that I knew this was a story about Teela from Masters of the Universe having a twin sister who was best friends with a pre-fame Madonna and who adopted the child of her best friend who was killed in some epic battle, but all these characters had different names so it was okay. (As a child I also once came up with a scenario where instead of Jesus, the savior of the world being celebrated at Christmas was a girl named Daisy, and even rewrote Christmas carols to incorporate that, but that AU in the Catholic fandom was pretty much confined to my head and the swingset, because I think even at age 6 or whatever I knew that one wasn’t likely to be well-received outside my head.)

Y. What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

It’s such a tough issue, because as much as we’d all like to be so chill about what kind of reception our stories get, and not be overly invested in how many kudos or comments or reblogs we get, and just focus on sharing the stuff we want to create and have that be enough, we WANT someone to like what we did as much (or more!) than we do. And there are so many factors that go into whether someone comments on or reblogs or kudos something.

I’m pretty satisfied with everything I post, at the time I post it. I do notice trends in popularity — my pre-ESB stuff tends to be more popular in general, one-shots get more comments than a new chapter of a multichapter fic (especially a long chapter), anything post-ROTJ tends to be slower to get comments. Smut sometimes gets less attention generally but is more likely to get comments. I think some of the fics I wrote when I was doing a ficlet a week for Scoundress Saturdays were probably more popular than my more recent stuff, but I think I’ve kind of accepted that I might be less prolific in terms of frequent posting, but I really like some of where my newer stuff is taking me. It is weird to get comments on my first story, because that feels so long ago and I feel like my writing has evolved a lot since then, but I’m happy whenever someone has liked what I put out there. Some of my more popular stories are also ones I especially love, but that correlation isn’t always there.

Thank you kindly for the ask!

Fanfic writer ask meme

[alienjoyful]

I normally try not to say much on other peoples posts, call that the shy part of me still having a strangle hold BUT this post resonates deeply in a way I can’t ignore.

I love to write dumb fun stuff. I have been writing dumb fun stuff since I was a child always with the tiny dream of someday writing a book and getting it published. When I was a little girl and said as much people would encourage me to try.

But I noticed that with each passing year of me getting older the encouragements got quieter and quieter. What started as:

“Oh you want to be a writer? Im sure you’ll succeed just keep giving it your best shot!”

“You’ve always been so creative I’m sure you’ll write something amazing!”

“Oh? What genres interest you? Id love to hear your ideas!”

Slowly over many years became:

“Well its hard to get published you know. And even if you do you’ll never make enough money to live on.”

“You want to write something in the fantasy genre? And for kids? Don’t you know how much competition you have? What you think you can compete with Harry Potter?”

“Im not telling you to give up I just don’t think your being very smart or realistic. You need to grow up and realize this will never pay the bills.”

“No one is going to read it, people don’t read anymore.”

Even if I told them I didn’t need it to make money id do it for the satisfaction, even if I tried to show I was being ‘realistic’ I got eye rolls and tired sighs.

When I started doing Twitch streams with my now Partner for fun to show off games we liked and do voice acting. I got a barrage of unsolicited free ‘advice’ telling me again to be ‘realistic’ to accept that it would never go anywhere. That it was a saturated market, that I wasn’t anything special or different. It didn’t matter that I just did it for fun they felt the need to shove there cynicism down my throat and call it love.

Recently, I decided to try out 2DVtubing. Why? Because it seemed fun, and I like streaming, thats it. Even without a following I’ve found streaming to be a positive experience for all these years, because sometimes new people I’ve never met who love the game I or my partner are playing show up in chat. And for that brief time we talk, we joke, they help with a level or tricky boss and all I hope is for that fleeting time that there paths crossed mine, I made them laugh or smile.

My closest friends have been positive about my streaming and my new Vtuber. In fact without the encouragement / seeing @thegalleonsnest do the 2D-tubing thing first with his lil bird guy I probably would not have done it for many more years.

But even with those Im closest to being positive, I still hear and get those nasty cynical comments on the regular. I want to say that I can ignore them, that they have 0 effect on me. But Im only human and we can only deal with so much cynical bullshit.

Maybe theres something here to be said about societal hopelessness, about how tired and beaten down we all feel from years of financial hardships and the growing chokehold of capitalism while were screamed at about our planet burning. Maybe watching so many big shot ‘influencers’ turn out to be bad people who go unpunished makes it all feel pointless. Maybe the never ending stream of bad news, deaths, war, and bombs makes us feel powerless and trapped.

Maybe life is hard and we feel the need to tell others to ‘be realistic’ as a way of trying to save them from further hardship and heartbreak down the road. Maybe…

But personally I just can’t agree with that kind of mindset. Life is hard, capitalism sucks, bad people sometimes succeed, were all tired, and yes alone we may be small and weak. But thats no reason to give up or stop or to be a cynical asshole!

Keep going! Make that podcast! Stream that game! Write that book! Make that music! Write that letter! Make that group! Join that team! Get that new job! Start that new business! Go join that club! Learn that new skill!

Do that thing others told you was pointless. Do it messy, do it imperfect, do it despite the fear, do it knowing you might fail. Do it anyway.

Just try. I know its hard I know your tired. But just try. You never know what you’ll learn or experience from just trying. I haven’t written or published a book yet but I’m still trying. And streaming despite everyone telling me it was pointless got me a whole ass husband.

So trust me when I say. Just try.

I don't think many people realize how much they've been turned into a bunch of casually cynical jerks.

Someone may come to their parents and say "I want to write a book" and their parents will say "it's really hard to get published".

Someone might confide in their sibling and say "I want to sell my art on "x" platform" and that sibling will say "do you know how many people you'd be competing with? Do you know how many shops are even on that platform?"

I know a kid who once told his best friend "I think I wanna start a dnd podcast" and the friend was like "do you know what the word "oversaturation" means?"

Personally, I don't know why any of that matters? And even if it did, perhaps your response should be "Do it! Do it and see where it goes!"

[twicecorner]

Smoked Out

A/N: Smoking warning. AU-ish, this is all made up, I don’t encourage smoking nor do I think Jihyo would really act like this, but I saw a scene in a show and a little quickie idea popped up. I know this isn’t the TA series that a lot of you had hoped for, but the writing fuel came out and this is the small product. It’s different from my other works, not really smut, but maybe it could be, who knows.

2624 words; idek what genre to call this one lol angst? but not really? idk LMAO anyways enjoy🫣

Being a foreign worker in another country is never easy, but luckily you got to work with an amazing team at a nice company. You’ve been working at JYP with the world-renowned K-pop girl group Twice for about a year now. It’s only normal that you’ve found your place on their team and have finally started to be more involved with them in and out of the workplace setting. 

One warm night the team, along with some of the girls, head out for some food and drinks after a long day's schedule. You’re surprised that they decided to go out tonight considering how long of a week it’s been and even more so surprised that even some members wanted to join in A nice Friday night of barbecue, soju, and beer, and the crew has become a loud bantering table at the small restaurant in the middle of Seoul. You’re laughing and making jokes with some of your co-workers and suddenly your phone rings. 

“Hold on guys,” you take another shot of soju, “I’ll be back in a sec, I have to take this.” You stand up from your seat and head outside as the laughter slowly muffles when you close the door and head to the small alleyway next to the restaurant in the still Seoul summer air. 

“Hello?” you question.

“What are you doing? Have you been drinking?”  The other person responds quickly.

“Yes… it’s a Friday night and we’ve had a long week.” You meekly reply.

“What the fuck. Who’s we?? I thought you stopped drinking.” 

“We as in my co-workers and I and quite frankly I don’t weally know why you’re bombarding me with questions right now… isn’t it like morning there?” Your words slightly slurring.

The person on the end of the line is the crazy ex that for some reason loves to keep tabs on you after your “messy” break up somewhere during your first month in Seoul. The initial phone call was made by you because you couldn’t handle the long-distance and that work was far too crazy to keep the relationship the way you wanted to, that breaking it off might be the best decision for both parties. Unfortunately, she didn’t pick up so you decided to leave a voicemail. A few days go by and you hear nothing from her. Your best friend from home calls you and tells you she’s been cheating on you ever since you left. 2 years of a relationship that you thought would be the last, down the drain. Your friends had always told you they’d seen red flags from her since you started dating, but ignorantly and “in love” you brushed them off. Now, you’re seeing the signs just a bit too late and clearly suffering the consequences. You took her silence as a sign of guilt or shame and decided to leave it at that. One phone call she made to you about 3 months after that incident is when she tried to explain herself, but you were having none of it, after hours of yelling and arguing and crying, you broke it off for good.

“You know how you get when you drink. This is why we shouldn’t have broken up. Why are you always out and ‘working’ don’t they give you time off? Do you even know what I’ve been going through?” She sounds like she’s about to keep yammering so you cut her off.

“We haven’t spoken in like months and you’re calling me now to complain? To yell at me? And for what?” It’s reached the point that this phone call has somehow managed to snap you out of your fun drunken daze and into a fed-up, upset mood.

“And what gives you the right to talk to me like that? For your information, I was calling to check up on you.”

“Oh really? And by doing what? Interrogating me on my life choices? I’m doing just fine here and I hope you’re doing well with that fucker from your office. You know I only picked up your call because some small fucking part of me still kind of cares about you and I thought maybe something had happened. But I guess not, so if there’s really nothing left to say, goodnight or good morning or whatever. Goodbye.” Click. 

Fuck.. really out of all times she could have called. Bitch 

You angrily shove your phone back into your pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes. You told yourself you’d stop smoking when you left home, but sometimes the stress of the job was too much, and of course whenever you drank you’d have a smoke or two. Right now checked off both of those boxes. Fumbling with the pack and the lighter you manage to light one up. 

Fuck god, I really can’t believe her you mutter to yourself as you slowly exhale your first puff of smoke. 

“You know smoking is bad for you.” You hear a voice from behind you and it makes you jump a little. 

“Oh shit-” you turn around and it's none other than Park Jihyo. And out of all people who could catch you now. “Oh Jihyo… Hi. Uh, I know, it’s just… I usually… you know.. Ah when I drink or I’m super stressed” You nervously hold the cigarette between your index and middle finger close to your leg, failing miserably at an attempt to hide what she already saw. 

“Ah right, that’s what most people say hm?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

You let out a nervous laugh and shyly nod.

“So who was that? On the phone?” 

“Oh did you hear? Sorry, was I too loud?”

“No, no I came out to get some air, it was getting hot inside” She replies.

“Ah, I see.” Your eyes look down at the floor almost like a kid that’s about to get scolded.

“You sounded upset. Are you okay?” She tries to meet your eyesight and you instinctively meet hers.

“Yeah…. Actually, no not really it was my crazy ex” You explain a short version of your breakup and the phone call to her. “Sorry, that was too much information, but I feel like I just had to get it off my chest.” After a breath you give in and take another hit from the cigarette, turning to face away from Jihyo.

“Oh wow. Okay yeah, that does sound stressful. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Another exhale of smoke. “Thanks. Um, I think I’ll finish this one and head back in, you should go back, and like you said, this isn’t good for you…” You’re a little ashamed, but truly this is not how you’d hope this night would go. 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to try smoking.” 

Her comment shocks you. “Really? But you’re a signer, and an idol no-less, this is like one of the top 3 things you never ever do.” 

“My older cousins used to do it and I always thought it was kind of cool. They’d inhale it like you do.”

As she says that you coincidentally take another hit. Sucking it into your mouth, puffing your cheeks out once, and parting your lips slightly, re-inhaling the smoke through your nose. The French inhale technique. Before letting the smoke exhale back through your mouth and nostrils. 

“Oh this… it’s a bad habit that I really intended on quitting when I came here and I was doing really well for a while before things got a little crazy and let my worst get the best of me.” Again you feel embarrassed. By now, the cigarette is about halfway finished. 

“Can I try?” She asks.

“What? No! I can’t let you. Remember the whole signer, idol, kpop star thing.” 

“Please just once” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes now.

“Jihyo no, you’re drunk and you’re gonna regret it.” You hold it even further away from her now. 

“I’m not drunk I didn’t even have one drink. I have to take care of Nayeon and Jeongyeon who, when I left were competing to see how fast they could down their 4th soju bomb”

This back and forth goes on for about another minute until you give up. At this point, she’s playfully trying to grab it from your hand and you’re about to flick it into the street when she catches your wrist.

“Jihyo. No.”  You hold her back with your other arm now.

“Make. Me.” She looks at you in the eyes with a stern sentiment. 

“You’re not gonna stop are you?” 

“Does it look like I’m the type to give up?” She quips back.

“Okay. Fine. But there’s a way that we used to do it back home that might hurt less for you. I’ve done this multiple times, just trust me.”

“Okay,” She flashes a gummy smile and pulls her hand off of you. 

Leading up to this moment, you had to admit you’d developed a small crush on Jihyo after working with her and seeing how kind and talented of a person she is. 

“It’s called shotgunning. And not the type with beer cans. I’ll take the initial hit and I’ll just blow a little bit of smoke into your mouth so you can emulate the sensation. Is that okay?” You explain the technique to her.

“Yes, I like the sound of that.” She replies.

“One time, and one time only. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, yes let’s do it.” It’s a little puzzling how excited she is about this.

“Okay, here we go.” You take a final hit from the cigarette and hold the smoke in your mouth before dropping it to the floor and ashing it out with your foot. You continue the motions with the french inhale, but instead of exhaling through your nostrils as usual, you take a step closer to Jihyo and cup her face with your right hand. She leans up to meet you, face-to-face. With your left hand, you bring it to the other side of her face and gently part her lips with your thumb. You lean in closer, your lips brushing against each other now. You thought at this point she’d pull away, but she’s right there. You slowly exhale through your mouth, letting the smoke travel the short distance between your mouths. You only let out a little before blowing the rest out of the side of your mouth away from hers. Letting her naturally pull away, she playfully lets the smoke fall from her lips and she exhales the small puff. Closely watching her to make sure she’s okay, you instinctively place your hand somewhere on her lower back. 

“Wow.” She looks with wide eyes at the small cloud of smoke dissipating into the air.

“Hm? Are you okay? Did that hurt? Burn?” You’re looking for any signs.

“No, it was okay. That was fun.” She touches her lips where your thumb parted them moments before. “I- I want to do it again”

“No, I already ashed it out. It’s gone no more.” You put your hands up in the air showing her there’s nothing there. 

“N-no not that. That was a fun one-time experience. I’m glad it was with you” She seems a little nervous now.

“Then do what again? Oh, and I hope no one saw that, I don’t necessarily want  to get fired for doing what feels like a crime.” You let out a light chuckle.

“This.” She steps back in front of you and grabs your arms, putting them back into the position they were in on her face. “Do that again,” Jihyo whispers and holds your thumb near her mouth.

You’re too stunned to speak at what you just heard. She wants me to kiss her? This is insane.

A slow nod is all you can reply with and you create the same motions, this time, her hands holding your forearms in place. You glide your thumb over her bottom lip as if asking permission and you bring your faces close together. Your lips brush over hers ever so slightly and you can feel her breath shakily exhaling and as if the feeling of butterflies make the same journey that the smoke did but in the opposite direction, you feel your breath hitch and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes flutter closed and Jihyo seizes the opportunity. 

She closes the thin gap between you and your lips collide. Her soft lips tangle with yours and you’re certain the fireworks are mutual. Like a movie kiss, it feels like time stops and the world stops spinning. The far memory of your ex dissipated with the smoke that left Jihyo’s lips and all you know is her lips on yours. A set of matching puzzle pieces, perfectly intertwining in this dimly lit alleyway. It feels like an eternity that you’re standing there kissing Jihyo and it may as well be, you’re content there with her. But the kiss comes to a natural end when you both pull away for some air. 

“Wow.” She says under her breath, face inches away from you.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you.” You confess, still gently holding her face.

“Me too,” Jihyo replies, looking deeply into your eyes. 

You can feel yourself starting to take a few heavy breaths, processing what’s just happened and been said, but before you could, the two of you collide again. This time the kiss deepens quickly. Her hands now let go of your forearms and wiggle their way to hook behind your neck, yours move from their place on her cheeks and down to her waist, pulling her body to yours and closing every gap between the two of you. Her hands weave into your hair and push you further into the, now messy kiss. Tongues dance together, but you know you can’t do anything more than this now, especially in public even if it’s the late hours of the night here. But both of you want more, to feel more. She grabs one of your arms and squeezes it, a wordless “okay” as if to signal you. You realize how hard you’re holding her waist and let up on your grip, only to slide one hand down to cup her full ass. She moans into the kiss and takes a harder grip on your hair. As if the universe could see where this was about to go, you’re both startled when a loud car passes the alleyway. Instinctive speed kicks in and you separate your bodies, scared that you’ve been caught. 

“Fuck…” you say catching your breath. Realizing now your pants are a little tighter than they were when you first stepped outside. Jihyo giggles when she also notices, “Wow that was fast”

“Yah! This is your fault!” joking as you motion towards your crotch. 

“You’re lucky we live in the same place. I can fix that at a later time, but right now take a second to relax and hurry back inside, they’re probably wondering where we are. I’ll say we ended up taking  a little walk to sober you up.” You’re amazed at how fast she’s able to process all of that and so nonchalantly bounce back to her leader persona. Jihyo skips back inside with a wide smile on her face. 

Bringing yourself back down to earth, you pull your phone out and quickly block your ex’s number. And then you pull out the pack of cigarettes, emptying the pack onto a nearby trashcan, leaving one in the box along with your lighter, and shoving it back into your jacket pocket. “Just one. No more” you say to yourself, before heading back into the restaurant and rejoining the group.

A/N hi again… ik this isnt my usual smut-type work BUT imma have a solely smut oneshot coming out next in response to something I got in my inbox recently :D oh and im in the midst of editing and finalizing the first part of TA hehe as always thanks for reading <3 twc

[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

[folkloreguk]

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.