#also be hyperaware of the actions of every person around you ever

[sodaft-potato]

hi there!! i do hope you don't mind me asking, but i positively adore these spider-man sketches of yours (the anatomy in particular, you're really good with it in all of your art!) and i wanted to know; how did you go about learning how to draw figures like these, let alone in such striking poses?

that aside, please keep up the wonderful work with your art! both your sonic stuff and original art stands out to me as some of the most gorgeous i've seen!

Thank you for the ask! I'm so glad you like my Spider-Man drawings :> every once in a while I have to give anatomy a try and he's not a bad subject for it.

Frankly I don't have one good source of inspiration for my more anatomically complex art. The best I can offer for major study grounds are a lot of live-action television, many hours of staring at pretty paintings, and having to figure out how body language works due to my social anxiety and autism. I also don't think I'm very good with anatomy, but I attempt to conjure what I've observed from the recesses of my brain ;v; . In the past I've tried sketching portraits and doing proper studies using movie screenshots to learn about the functions of space. I love doing it, and these sorts of experiments certainly don't hurt my ability to draw anatomy and backgrounds.

Also yeah Dune as a series kind of changed the game ncbvbnvxbnc

Typically I like to draw poses that don't make 100% sense, but they look cool and that's enough for me. If they're fluid and make my brain happy, then I draw them.

I'm glad you like my art so much! My Sonic art has been really satisfying to draw lately, so I'm especially grateful that you appreciate it.

Thanks for the ask!

[onlyswan]

summary: in which one of jungkook’s love language is biting.

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: established relationship, fluff, smut kinda

→ warnings: making out, hickeys, oral (f. receiving)

→ word count: 0.9k

note: blueberry jk gone too soon i love you sm </3 i’m on a writing slump i hate this plz bear with me ㅠㅠ

—

jungkook has different ways of expressing his love and affection despite not being particularly fond of voicing out his feelings. it takes him a while to open up because often times he wants to carry the burden alone, but as you got closer, trust also became one of the most precious things you share with each other. with trust comes intimacy; baring yourself to each other (yes, physically and emotionally); seeing the imperfections of the other, and kissing every inch of them with unfeigned admiration.

well, not only does jungkook kisses, he bites.

a makeout session with him is not complete without his teeth tugging at your bottom lip at least once, the feeling bordering on pain and pleasure, sending tingling sensations in your belly and making your walls clench involuntarily. he would part away with a satisfied and mischievous smile. using his thumb, he would gingerly swipe your pink lips that he previously assaulted.

one of his favorite places have to be your thighs as well, scattering kisses to tease you and leave you writhing in anticipation for what was to come. the first time he harshly sinked his teeth on the soft skin dangerously close to your center, it awakened something in you. he left love marks all over you as if you were a blank canvas and he took pleasure in tainting you, soothing the sting with his tender tongue, contrasting his previous actions.

“ahh, jungkook,” you couldn’t help but moan his name, eyelids fluttering and fingers running through his soft and slightly damp hair.

“yeah, you like that?” his mouth advanced a bit further down, and you felt his breath on your cunt, making your legs tremble over his shoulders. the hyperawareness on every sensation he elicited from you made your mind all fuzzy that you couldn’t speak, not even sure if you heard him right. he started sucking to leave another mark, his teeth grazing your skin. but after a few seconds, he stopped, raising his head slightly to meet your eyes. “i asked you a question, baby. is what i’m doing making you feel nice?”

you visibly swallowed; the intensity of his gaze made your heart beat harder in your ribcage. “yes, yes. oh, feels so good, jungkook. more, please.” he rewarded you by resuming his ministrations, his grip on your thighs became firmer.

“love you. love your thighs. love all parts of you i want to eat you right up.” he spitted out the most romantic love confession you’ve ever received before right away working his mouth’s magic where you needed him most, spoiling your cunt with generous flicks of his tongue, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. the moans that escaped your mouth were whiny and lewd and it only drove your boyfriend more to completely bring out this liberated side of you, sucking on your clit and devouring the new wave of wetness that dripped down even to his chin.

jungkook loves mornings with you. you barely have your eyes open and whether or not you had sex the night before, you slightly tumble while taking your first steps of the day. then fresh out of the shower, you always head to the kitchen drowning in one of his giant t-shirts that are already one or two sizes bigger on him.

he greeted with you a light smack on the ass (the first few times you definitely yelped in surprise but at this point it has become a normal thing) before his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin perfectly slotted itself on your shoulder. “good morning, my love. what you cooking for breakfast?”

“jungkook, i think you have a pretty good view of what i’m cooking from up there.” even though being an adult basically requires you to become a morning person, you simply never had it in you. you can write a whole ass essay about the damage your alarm sound has inflicted on your health over the years.

“you’re always so mean in the morning.” he pouts, unabashedly pulling down the sleeve of your (his) shirt down to expose your shoulder and more of your collarbone.

“aww,” you whined when you felt his sharp teeth sink on your supple skin, biting you vigorously. his radiant giggles echoed in the kitchen. you shook your head lightly and tried to suppress the smile forming on your face as you flipped the egg on the pan, but tickles eventually broke your walls down when he started nosing at your neck.

“there she goes. the sun is shining!”

. . . and that one time you were watching a movie together and all of your attention was stolen by every scene playing on the television screen. you were wrapped in a big blanket and surrounded by unnecessary amount of pillows that you insist on keeping because you love pretty pillowcases.

“babe, i want some pocky, too.” he poked your arm holding the box of strawberry pocky, which you then extended towards him. “get me two.” not wanting to get distracted from the movie longer than necessary and yes, because you love him, you followed without a word. he held your wrist as he chomped down on the snack.

you gasped when you felt him bite your fingers when he reached the end. “you are such a menace.”

he only grinned and scrunched his nose, nudging at you. “two more?”

—

note: i made myself cry with the ‘there she goes. the sun is shining!’ part :] <- yoongi smile . as always lmk what u think hearing from u makes me happy 😬 <- another yoongi smile

[yostresswritinggirl]

Hedonists

@kookieyachi, you little biiiitch, you know I'm damn weak when it comes to youuuu *proceeds to strangle* Here's my drabble for a spicy mfm action with Red and Green Xiao, yes, it's legit them this time.

Pairing -> Red Xiao x Reader x Green Xiao

Word Count -> 1774

Themes -> Spicy, nsfw, go away please

Series -> I'm putting this in Sojourner

Credits : Header by @geeeee_ss from Twitter

Warnings -> MINORS BEGONE

The appearance of this... crimson version of Xiao was an anomaly beyond world's comprehension.

In all honesty, you and Xiao had zero clue on how to deal with this doppelganger of him, but there was only a slight bit of suspicion and not actual hostility between both parties. Perhaps it was because Xiao himself can tell by soul and spirit that this person was truly a copy of him.

From unknown origins. And he doesn't seem to be going back, no one knows how he would even go back at this point.

So, now there are two Xiaos in this world. To avoid confusion, Red Xiao (which was an awkward way to address him, despite the ease) offered to be called Alatus. It was a name bane to Xiao, but this version of him seem perfectly fine with it.

He resembles the public gentleness your Xiao seldom shows, with a permanent soft smile on his person no matter who he meets. Human contact is also something he's not avoidant to and more times than not, you were the victim of his assaults.

Even if Alatus was different in actions and appearance, he still resembles your lover and his soul. Perhaps it was no surprise that you'd gotten to like him, and that he had fallen for you.

"Xiao," you murmured as you turned to the teal one, his eyes lingering at the form next to you before meeting yours. He heard his other's confession and you expected him to lash out, to pull you away, and yet the gentleness seeps through.

You were taken aback as he let out an amused laugh, a sliver of a smile ghosting his lips.

"I am not suprised that even myself from another universe had come to fall for you."

And that was how you'd come in between the love of two adepti, you're thankful that they get along well to the point that they even dare fight back to back when duty calls.

And that's how you find yourself in this predicament.

Upper half of the body bent almost parallel to the floor as you clutched at the wall, gloved fingers interlocked between your right ones as it pins your hand to the wall. Alatus' other arm loops around your waist, clutching it tight so that your back end would meet his crotch in every thrust.

Through hazy vision from pleasure and unshed tears, you can see your tiptoes barely reaching the ground in the height he wants you to be.

Your unending moans had caused lewd drops of drool to drip down to your chin, saliva joining the small pool on the floor with the patch of sensual juices forming below.

His girth grazing against your walls makes your toes curl, pushing you closer to the edge as his pounding becomes more erratic, his grip on you tightens together with growls.

You barely remember what your prior objective was when coming here just an hour ago. And your train of thought is interrupted again as you felt your feet lower down to the wooden floor as Alatus leans down against your back, biting at your neck as a muffled growl travels from your skin to your spine.

You almost stumble when your shaky knees was suddenly tasked to hold your weight. Quickly the Yaksha's free hand finds its way to your stomach to push you back to him, "Mmm, careful, it seems your stamina has been depleted."

His hand pushed up against your stomach had also moved your walls against his length buried inside you, making it graze a sensitive spot you didn't know existed, enough to send you coming undone suddenly.

Your whimpers matched his feral growl as he climaxes in you, spurred on by the convulsing walls from the aftermath of your own orgasm.

"Good, good, darling. You did so good."

"What's going on here?"

A gust of wind sends your half-naked self into shivers as you were pulled up straight against Alatus' chest, the cold forcing you to hug yourself and press you legs together to shield the wetness below.

Coming back from eradicating another camp near the marsh, this was not at all what Xiao was expecting to see.

He'd known about his other self's desires that day before you arrived but he didn't expect the intercourse to happen at the balcony just by the walls of the Inn.

Xiao shoots a glare to the red one, who undoes his arms around your waist to raise it in mock surrender.

This caused your still recovering body to stumble to Xiao, whose aggressive words died down as he catches you in surprise- you felt his hand grip at one of your bottom's cheeks before he quickly moved his hand to grip at your hips instead. The action caused you to groan against for how sore your bum was from the earlier assault.

"Perhaps, some quality time between us three comes sooner than I expected. It's an opportune right now as our darling craves more." Alatus comes up behind once again to give you a gentle hug, slightly leaning you back for Xiao to gaze at.

Perhaps it was the dazed, flushed face from intoxicated pleasure or the way your collar was propped loose to show a portion of your skin and collarbone. Maybe it was also the hint of your familiar scent emanating from below, but his amber pupils dilated in arousal at the thought of taking in this way.

With another man.

He's heard of similar arrangements that mortals participate in, and he cannot deny that the thought had crossed his mind once or twice ever since the three of you entered this polyamory.

His gaze shifted from the mischievous smile of his counterpart to yours, inching closer as he swipes a gloved thumb under your eye, "Is this what you truly want?" Xiao asks meekly as your eye shuts from the contact, instinctively nuzzling into his palm.

Inside him aches from the adoring sight painfullt despite himself. And you simply nod, embarrassment manifesting on your cheeks that puts you to silence.

Soft yet chapped lips found yours almost instantly as Xiao worms his arms around your waist, the forceful kiss easily turning into a passionate one as his tongue pries your lips open. Although Xiao was not fond of touches normally, he's come to be an expert when it comes to conveying his love through kisses.

His tongue with a sweet aftertaste so familiar to your own found its way below, licking the underside of your tongue that coaxed out a muffled moan out of your throat.

Another set of lips came to assault your neck this time, humming against your skin as his hands crosses over, tugging at the cloth and accessories hanging by Xiao's waist to try and pull it down.

The action caused Xiao to pull away with a grumble, pecking your lips one last time before he summoned his polearm. Willing the winds once more, he sends a gale that shuts the doors to the balcony before throwing his spear behind him, the pole accurately fitting through the wooden handles - effectively locking it.

"We don't want any interruptions," he regarded with eyes low and shaded, already pulling off his garments as Alatus works to rile and wake you up to absolute consciousness. His hands roaming over your waist and thighs sends tingles of electricity over how sensitive you still feel, his length pulsing between your cheeks as if rejuvenated by the thought of doing it with all of you.

A mess of limbs later and you found yourself situated on his lap as he sat down at while Xiao supported your weak leg by the thigh to keep them open, the other held up by Alatus. This position felt so scandalous that it had you reeling in embarrassment. Your desperate attempts to hide making both of your men chuckle and pull your face out of hiding.

A light-mannered yet sultry voice coos by your ear, "Beloved, there's no turning back now from your own decisions, enjoy it with us," ending his statement with a bite to your earlobe as he pulls at your limb to spread your hole wider.

The hand that grips your jaw forces you to meet Xiao's golden gaze, "There is no need to hide, we love every part of you. Believe in my words, got it?"

And with an affirmation from you (Xiao is really careful with consent), the first onslaught of movement came.

There was searing pain in the way you're being stretched beyond what you were used to, and both of them did the best they can in being careful, hyperaware of the pained whimpers and rolling tears the sensation produced. The wetness from before and the initial stretch did little in helping, taking a moment longer than you wanted before it became comfortable, pleasurable.

Their precise movements rocked your hips and you're soon overwhelmed by the sensations, their members pushing against each others as they continue to stretch your walls. Grazing against it as it sends your spine into delicious shivers, Xiao's more dominating thrusts pulls you farther down to Alatus', to the point that he's bottoming out behind you easily as the mixed pre-cum coats and spills past your hole.

An unoccupied hand pulls at one of your nipples, experimentally rubbing the sensitive nub between its fingers as you threw your head back, moans reverberating against the wall of the inn before it was eaten by a kiss by Xiao.

"Don't be hngh,, too loud now."

His hand finds it way over your sex, thumbing your most sensitive spot in circles and calculated rubs, pressing down as your knees bucked.

It was so overwhelming, intoxicated by lust as each touch and thrust within you sends the heat in your belly rippling. And soon enough your hole tightens eagerly around their lengths as you cry out your climax, hips snapping and back arching as you ride out your high.

And not even a split second passes as another heat builds up inside you as they both speed up their ministrations, letting the tightness squeeze the pleasure out of them as they practically grind against it.

The pool of thick, transparent juices under you three grows as more wet splotches joins it.

The heavy scent, combined moans and pantings, and the unrelenting thrusts the both of them keeps up tells you that the aching in your legs would persist more than a day.

But as you came a second time at the sensation of their hot seed spilling inside and out of you, you realized you didn't care that much.

Sike, get cock blocked, bitches hehehe

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @kookieyachi @xiaophilia @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko

[miekasa]

fluff alphabet: eren jaeger

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, more fluff but that’s what you come here for at this point

↯ word count: 3.5k… again… i’m sorry…?

↯ notes: i don’t know why all of these are so long, but here you go again

Activities — What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Honestly, anything. I’ve said before that I think the love language he gives/expresses the most is quality time. That being said, almost anything you want to do, Eren is down to do with you.

In fact, you don’t even have to do anything. Eren just likes being in your presence. He could spend several days inside your apartment doing nothing but talking to you.

He does get a little antsy sometimes, so he would plan fun dates to get you both out of the house; but again, if you wanted to plan something instead of him, he wouldn’t be opposed.

Takes you to places like amusement parks and fairs, bars/new restaurants, swimming, basically anything he can find. His guilty pleasure is karaoke, and insists that the both of you get drunk and sing your little hearts out to pop songs until 1am. 

Beauty — What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Eren thinks you’re pretty. All the time, and he makes it a point to tell you at least twice a day; often times, more.

If you have small/specific beauty marks or scars or anything on your skin, Eren is infatuated with them. Whenever you’re cuddling he’ll seek them out/trace them/kiss them.

Everytime he finds a new one he gasps like a child and is like “Babe! Did you know you have a little freckle here, look!”

If you have a passion for something, or are just general a pretty organized student, Eren would admire that about you. He somewhat looks up to you in those respects, too.

Comfort — How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack, etc.?

To him, the best method is to give you something to do—so, in a sense, provide a distraction for you.

He’ll try and teach you about his favorite video games and have you play with him. Even if you’re bad or you say you don’t want to, he’ll insist, and use teaching you as a method to get your mind off of whatever’s bothering you.

He’s not always the most perceptive, but he can tell when you’re sadder than usual, or obviously, when you’re upset.

He also gives good hugs. If all else fails and he feels like he can’t help you in any other tangible way, he’ll just hug you for as long as he can.

Dreams — How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Honestly, how ever you picture things, is how ever Eren is going to picture them, too. Mostly, he just wants to have fun with you, and wants to continue making you happy for as long as he can.

His biggest goal is that one day he wants to feel truly worthy of all the affection you give him; he wants to be good enough to be someone you choose to stay with.

Equal — Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Eren kind of falls for/into those “traditional” relationship roles; and while part of it is definitely an “I’m the man, so I want to do this” mindset, most of it is kind of “Well, why wouldn’t I?”

A lot of Eren’s affection and actions come from a place that seem simple and almost instinctual to him; and he doesn’t even realize how profound his thoughts and actions can be.

For example, he’ll help you carry things or drive you around or open doors for you. All things that seem chivalrous and might be expected of a “man,” but to Eren they’re just things to do, if that makes sense?

He doesn’t do it because he thinks you’re not capable, nor to be particularly chivalrous. In his head, he’s thinking “I care about them, so obviously, I’m going to help them out.”

Fight — Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Disagreements may happen because Eren is very vocal about his opinions on things. That doesn’t mean that he’s not open to change, but you might find out you don’t agree to many things because he’ll voice his opinion on them.

Whenever you do argue, he makes the argument a lot worse in his mind than what’s actually going on. He tends to jump the gun a lot and make assumptions that you wouldn’t have gotten to yourself.

He might simmer and wallow in it for a little bit afterwards (especially if he thinks he was right), but after some time he would either see the light himself, have it knocked into him by Armin, or just not want to keep fighting with you. Even if he was right, he doesn’t want to waste time being mad about something that could be easily talked about.

Gratitude — How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Eren gets very easily flustered when he understands how much thought you put into things about/for him. Especially gifts—because he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone getting something tailored to him.

So, he’s very grateful. He almost thinks he’s undeserving of you and your affections to a certain point. Especially in moments when he’s hyperaware of just how much he means to you.

Honesty — Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He might have personal secrets and insecurities he doesn’t voice often because they can be hard to reckon with himself; but nothing scandalous that he’s keeping hidden.

He’s kind of an oversharer to be honest lolol. He doesn’t keep the things he’s doing/has done to himself, and is more than willing to tell you about his day, or his plans, or just anything.

If it’s something serious, he might sit on it for a while before coming clean to you, but he would eventually. He would just need the time to figure it out for himself first.

Inspiration — Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Being in a  long-term relationship has taught Eren so much about how other people see him and his self-worth.

He either didn’t think much of himself as a whole person before; or thought his life and plans were kind of… dispensable to a certain extent. He didn’t necessarily feel like he needed to want anything bigger than himself, or for anyone but himself; but now he knows that that’s a path to fulfillment; and he knows he wants you.

It’s also taught him the importance of expressing himself in words. He was always good at it with actions, and he’s still not the best with his words, but he’s getting there. And it’s now a conscious effort on his part.

Jealousy — Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He can get jealous easily, but he doesn’t do anything about it a lot of the time. He knows that most of his feelings of jealous are surface level and petty, and he shouldn’t make an argument out of it.

When he gets jealous like that though—of someone maybe coming on to you at a party or a restaurant—the most he does is, like, obnoxiously clear his throat or roll his eyes, or just glare at the offending person. His glare is pretty effective honestly; most of the time it keeps people from approaching in the first place, and they say preventive measures are the best cure.

When you’re both home, he’s extra affectionate, and pouty about how he thinks everyone should just back off because he’s your boyfriend and the best boyfriend for you.

He actually gets a little upset if you don’t get a little bit jealous when people are obviously flirting with him. He would kind of like it if you had a light possessive instinct over him… it might turn him on a bit, too.

Kiss — Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He is very enthusiastic, and never turns down an opportunity to kiss you. Over time his kisses become more refined; that is more tailored to kissing you and not just kissing someone in general. Practice makes perfect, after all.

He was probably nervous as fuck during the first kiss, but played it off (or at least tried to). Likely very sweet and cautious; a series of small kisses that build up to something a little fuller.

Love Confession — How would they confess to their s/o?

He has a moment of realization. Like, a pretty big one; he either got there himself, or one of his friends said something like “Eren, don’t you… like them?”

When he has that moment, he either sits on it for a very, very, very long time; or just blurts it out at you because he can’t keep it in any more.

If you’re friends before hand, he would consider the possibilities of a relationship with you, but he already knows he likes being around you; and he would probably love being in a relationship with you because of that.

Marriage — Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

It can go either way with him. He could love the idea of marriage—because it’s like hanging out with your very best friend every single day. You get to live together, everybody knows you’re together, and you just get to spend the rest of your lives together. That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to him.

Or he could think it’s kind of a meh idea. He knows he loves you and he knows you love him, he doesn’t see why he would need to host what’s basically an expensive party and ceremony to show all of your close friends that. They should already know. But if you want to get married and have a fancy wedding, who is Eren to deny you that.

He seems like the type to fuck up his proposal a bunch of times and then eventually snap like “Fuck this—I love you, and I want to love you for the rest of my life, please marry me.”

Nicknames — What do they call their s/o?

He calls you “babe” more often than anything else.

When he’s drunk or just wanted to distract/annoy you, he’ll call you something super dramatic and sweet like “my little sugarplum” just to get a reaction out of you.

He has a slight possessive streak, so he also likes to call you his girl.

On Cloud Nine — What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He expresses his feelings mostly through spending time with you, but also by being your personal hype man. Eren is willing to support you and all of your ambitions, and might cheer a little too loudly for you on the sidelines, but at least you know he cares.

It’s quite obvious that Eren is in love, maybe not necessarily because he has heart eyes; but because he has this focus on improving himself. It would also be obvious in the way he talks about you to his friends and family. He might not even realize how often he slips your name into conversation, or adds tidbits about you when someone says something that reminds him of you.

He talks to his mom about you a lot, and she always has to hold back her little All-Knowing Mom Smirk because her baby is in love and she’s so happy for him. 

PDA — Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss when others are watching?

It’s a complicated dynamic with Eren. He wants everyone to know he has a hot girlfriend, but also doesn’t want people talking about his relationship lmaooo. He’s both reserved and not-shy about it at the same time.

He’s not all that big on PDA, and would never kiss you in front of his friends because he knows he can be easily embarrassed (not embarrassed to be with you, but shy to do those kinds of things in front of his friends and get teased for it). Besides, he wouldn’t want any of his friends making out with their s/o in front of him.

He’ll hold your hand a lot though—but, again, to him, it’s not a conscious act of romance; he’s holding your hand because he wants to and he doesn’t realize that he wants to because he’s craving affection. He’s a little slow on the uptake with his own feelings; but he’s a lot quicker with actions.

He does kind of like it when you kiss him on the cheek, though. And if it’s been a long night of you and his friends hanging out together, he doesn’t mind if you get a little touchy with him when you’re sleepy.

Quirk — Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s really good at guessing when public transportation is going to come LMAOO. Like, yes, there’s a schedule for it, but he’s scary good at predicting how late/early it’s going to be which minimizes wait times. Eren doesn’t wait for the bus, the bus comes to Eren.

He’s also a pretty good photographer and has an eye for angles, so he’s good at taking pictures for you and of you when you’re out on dates. He’s also good at photographing food, and even though he thinks it’s pointless he’ll still do it for you.

Romance — How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s a balance of cliché and creative—it depends on the occasion.

For things like Valentine’s Day or anniversaries, he’ll probably go the classic, cliché route of getting you flowers and stuffed animals if you’re into that kind of thing.

But when it comes to birthdays, he can get very creative and thinks about your gift for a long time. Again, in his head it’s not romance, it’s just him doing what he thinks is right, but it turns out to be pretty damn romantic.

Support — Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Of course he believes in you! You helped him believe in himself, so obviously he’s going to want to help you do the same thing and support you while he’s at it.

This is one area where Eren never gets jealous—he always wants you to achieve your goals, and never compares your progress to him. He just wants you to be happy and will do what he can to help.

He gets a little frustrated if he can’t help you at all, but understands that maybe just moral and emotional support might be enough in those situations.

Thrill — Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He’s a little (very) unhinged, so he’s always down to try something new. He’s the kind of person who will take you bungee jumping on a date because it’s “fun” and “exciting.” Eren knows no boundaries, so very few things and experiences are off-limits to him.

He would like some kind a routine/established roles, but he’s always down to experiment. If he ends up not liking it, then so be it, but at least he can say he tried.

Understanding — How good to they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He knows you better than he thinks he does. He thinks about you a lot, especially when it comes to holidays/birthdays/gift giving and can get frustrated when he doesn’t find an answer right away, but he always pulls through in the end.

He kind of expects to know everything about you very quickly, which leads to obvious frustration. But over time, he learns almost everything he wants to know and then some; even if he isn’t the best at showing that he’s retained that information on a daily basis.

He needs someone to be empathetic towards him more than the other way around, but Eren would try hard to put himself in your shoes if you needed him to.

Value — How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

It’s very important to him, dare he say one of his top priorities.

Eren cares about people deeply, and you couldn’t be in a long-term relationship with him without him making you his business. Your relationship is special to him, and he wants to do his best to keep it going.

It might even come at the cost of some of his other obligations/relationships at first because he’s new to balancing life personal life and relationship; but over time he learns to balance things out. You’re still pretty damn high on his priority list, though.

Wild Card — A random fluff head canon.

Takes pictures and videos of you while you’re sleeping or falling asleep, and stitches them all together on your birthday and posts it to his story. Every single year without fail.

Got you both customized matching sneakers and gets stupidly giddy when you both wear them at the same time. He takes a billion pictures when you have them on.

Got you a nameplate anklet with his gamertag on it. Not so fluffy, but he really likes the way it looks on his shoulder 😌

XOXO — Are they ver affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Absolutely, he’s like an overgrown puppy on two legs, Eren loves to cuddle. He’s all over you, and very weak for any kind of affection when the two of you are alone.

He gets upset if you don’t sit directly next to (or on top of him) when you sit on the couch, and pouts about it before flopping on top of you instead.

His first move when he goes to your place or you come over is to wrap you in a hug, and he doesn’t let go for at least a full minute. And even then, he’ll probably waddle behind you in a back hug for a significant amount of time, or until you’re ready to lay down.

King of giving forehead kisses and bumping his nose against yours before his kisses your lips. He’s a sucker for all of it, no matter how much he plays it off when he’s around his friends.

Yearning — How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Simple: he will call you as many times as possible so as to make it feel like you never even left.

FaceTime is the most used app in Eren’s phone. If you’re away from him for a period of time, he’ll find any excuse to call you and see you, and he gets extra bold when flirting with you.

He also likes to steal your clothes/jewelry. He might put on one of your necklaces or chains or steal one of your bigger/more oversizes hoodies if you have them. Puts his big ass feet in your house slippers.

He sends you pictures of him in all your stuff too, claiming that if you want them back, then you should come see him to get them.

Zeal — Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

He definitely is. In a modern au, again, I’m not sure what kind of great lengths they are to go to, but Eren will fight for you.

Even before you’re together, he’ll show you how dedicated he is to you and wanting to be with you.

Then, I suppose, his loyalty is his greatest display of zeal. Eren lets you know how dedicated he is to you and making your relationship work; and tries to prove it you (and himself a little bit) every day.

[got-svt]

all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever.

❥• three: the first love

he’s the one who woke up thirty minutes earlier in the morning just so he could walk with you to school. it was the kind of love that felt more like a friendship, but neither of you would have had it any other way. filled with inside jokes, skating in the park, sneaking out after curfew. all smiles, and messy kisses, and belting out songs in the car. but both of you also knew your relationship would never last past the point of getting your diplomas.

pairing: vernon chwe x reader genre: fluff, angst, highschool au word count: 2777

→    safe to say you were confused as to why you were excused from your very first class one early monday morning. it had been a week into your final year of high school, and truthfully, you were still reeling from the shock of jeonghan’s sudden disappearance. so you weren’t exactly feeling up to it when you were asked to show the new transfer student around. you’d later learn that his name was vernon. and if you knew back then the impact he would eventually have on your life, you wouldn’t have acted so nonchalant when you first met him. 

→    he sat on one of those uncomfortable looking plastic-metal hybrid chairs that seemed to plague every single guidance office. vernon had his hands neatly folded on his lap, avoiding the guidance counsellor’s somewhat scrutinizing gaze. you could tell he was nervous, maybe even uncomfortable, being in such an unfamiliar environment. as much as you’d rather not miss a class, you knew you had to save this poor kid from the counsellor talking his ears off on school rules. 

“i think i’ll be able to take it from here.” you smiled sweetly, using the reputation you’ve built avoiding trouble to your advantage. vernon discreetly shot you a grateful look, letting out small breath of relief when the counsellor agreed to you being the one to lecture him on the rest of the school’s rules.

the door shut with a gentle click and you gestured that he follow you. the soles of your shoes hitting the tiled floor and your voice occasionally cutting in to explain certain rooms and directions filled what would’ve been an uncomfortable silence. it wasn’t until he muttered a quiet, “thank you,” that you got to hear his voice for the first time.

“i’m yn.” you smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake, “and it was no problem really. you honestly looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

vernon chuckled at the accuracy of your statement. he took your hand in his, his skin soft and his touch gentle, and gave it a small shake — letting go a little too quickly. “i’m vernon.”

the rest of the tour seemed to go smoothly after that, not bothering to explain most of the school’s rules to him as most were pretty obvious and self explanatory. you were more interested in knowing more about him, asking questions about his transfer, his interests, and anything that helped you grasp what kind of person he was. you also learned his schedule, surprised how most of his classes were shared with you. by the end of the day, vernon had gone home with your number and a new friend.

→    when you gave him your number, you expected texts involving questions on homework, clarifications on directions, or perhaps inquiries on what clubs he could join. what you had gotten instead were random texts at three in the morning. the first was an honest mistake: a meme that was meant to be for his friends back at his old school. vernon was about to apologize, but you sent a meme of your own back: one that implored him to go to sleep. after that, the other three am texts he had sent — whether they were conspiracy theories, random thoughts or questions that made no logical sense — were far from accidents. you always scolded him in school for disturbing your sleep, but he knew in the way you tried to fight off a smile that you weren’t too mad at him.

→     the weeks that followed had you growing closer to vernon. despite the fact that he had been making new friends and adjusting well to his brand new environment, he somehow still found ways to talk to you. waiting for you by your locker, walking with you to your shared classes, offering to carry your books for you with a welcoming smile, waving you and your friends over to the table where he and his friends sat during lunch. soon enough you were organizing movie nights for yours and his friends at your house. truthfully, vernon didn’t know why he was doing so in the first place. perhaps it was a thank you for becoming his first friend in an uncharted territory, or maybe it was because he genuinely enjoyed your company too much to easily let it go. it also could’ve been because the sound of your laughter felt like music to his ears, or how the corners of your eyes crinkled whenever you smiled up at him.

→    you distinctly remember the first time he slung his arm around your shoulders. you shouldn’t have thought about it too much, he probably meant nothing by it; and he didn’t. vernon laughed a little too hard, you were the closest thing that could prevent him from completely falling over off the couch and onto the floor. your breath gets caught in your throat, feeling the heat from his skin touching yours, his fingertips on your shoulders. the movie playing in front of you, the friends that sat beside you faded into the background as you became hyperaware of vernon’s presence. seeing his features illuminated by the tv screen accompanied by the beating of your own heart, you realized you might be developing feelings for the new kid.

→    which is probably why his confession was so easily accepted.  

vernon didn’t meet you by your locker that afternoon, like he usually did. instead, in his place was a note written in generic paper — messily torn off a notebook — the words hastily written in black ink: meet me underneath the bleachers.

the handwriting was awfully familiar, but you couldn’t allow yourself to build your hopes up just yet. he had transferred only around a couple months ago, surely he wasn’t about to confess. he was already there when you arrived, jumping around from the nerves. 

“listen yn, i’ve been really afraid that i’m going to say these words to you by accident. so i figured i should get it over with it.” vernon talked a little too quickly for your liking, letting every single one of his words out in one breath, “i like you.”

“i like you too.”

“what? oh. wow, um—” vernon’s eyes went wide, clearly surprised that you reciprocated his feelings, “so what does this make us?”

“i think you’re supposed to ask me out on a date now…”

“right, sorry. are you free friday night?”

he asked you to be his after your first date, under a flickering lamppost on your street, holding your hand tightly in his.  

→    it was understandably awkward in the beginning, with neither of you ever being in a relationship before. your first kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue. the moments leading up to it had vernon staring at your lips for way too long, wondering if he should just go for it or politely ask. in the end he had gone with a mixture of both: quickly asking before bringing your face to his, resulting in your foreheads bumping together at the suddenness of his action. both of you immediately laughed it off, tears nearly filling your eyes. vernon looked at you fondly, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he pulled you closer to himself,  “guess we could use some practice, huh yn?”

→    but your relationship hit its stride within a couple of weeks. it felt like an accelerated friendship, at least that’s how you and vernon chose to describe it to the people who’d ask. nobody could tell that you two were in a relationship, thinking that the both of you just happened to be really close friends. neither of you opted for pet names, calling each other simply by name or the occasional ‘dude/bro’. you couldn’t really blame others for their surprise, but neither of you would have your relationship any other way.

→    if only they saw how tightly he gripped your waist as he taught you how to skateboard in the afternoons you spent at the park, how he never failed to grip your hand in large crowds so he doesn’t lose you, how he took you out to eat after every swim meet — not mattering if you had won or lost, how he woke up thirty minutes earlier than he usually would to go to your house so he can walk with you to school, how you were always the first to hear his music — one earbud in your ear and the other in his as you walked back from school, or how soft his gaze was on you as you attempted to tutor him on whatever lesson he struggled with. vernon always had an arm around your shoulders or resting on the back of your seat, sent you anything he comes across that reminded him of you: whether it was a tweet, or a meme, or a random sight on the street. 

“do you think we’re going to make it?” you whispered to him one night. you and vernon made a habit of sneaking in the school late at night though you didn’t exactly know why. maybe it was for the thrill of possibly getting caught. if yourself from a year ago saw what you were doing, you would’ve scolded yourself for being so reckless. but you had to remember to live a little every now and then. 

vernon’s head tilted to the side, reaching out to get his bag which was filled with snacks, “what do you mean?”

“do you think we’ll still be together even after we get our diplomas.”

“why are you asking?”

“i mean,” you sighed, wondering if you should even try to explain. it was something that had been bothering you as yours and vernon’s relationship progressed. “i know i’ll be going to university, but i also know you’re pursuing music and you don’t really feel like going to uni.”

“do we really have to think about that now?” his eyebrows furrowed, but you knew it was not out of anger or frustration, “why can’t we just live in this moment?”

“right.”

he took out a permanent marker from his bag, taking the lid off with his teeth. your eyes followed his movements as he scrawled underneath the bleachers: ‘vernon and yn were here.’

“no matter what happens to us,” vernon smiled, trying his best to make it seem comforting despite his own doubts beginning to form, “we can remember that we existed, that this moment existed at a point in time.”

you run your hands along the words he had written, deciding that it was good enough for now. neither of you brought up that conversation on the car ride home, or in the weeks after. but it lingered in the back of both of your minds, pestering the both of you every hour; you had unintentionally set a deadline on your relationship, and as the end of your high school years drew closer, the reminder only became harder to ignore. 

→   the weeks leading up to your graduation were as normal as they could be, at least both of you tried to make it seem that way. you still spent your mornings walking to school together, afternoons in the park, nights driving around the suburbs, singing songs as loud as you can with the windows rolled halfway down — much to the dismay of your neighbors. sometimes, you’d see chan walking home from practice, greeting him with waves as you sang the lyrics to him as a form of hello. you both studied for the final exams, vernon helped you film your university application video and you helped him write lyrics for his songs. but it felt different now. because every time you found yourselves smiling or laughing at a particular moment, it falters ever so slightly — both of you knowing things would end soon enough.

→   prom night went by as quickly as it came. you and vernon weren’t particularly excited, and if it wasn’t for your friends’ pestering you probably wouldn’t have attended at all. his promposal was simple: a paper airplane with the words “prom? yes or yes?” written on it. you remembered rolling your eyes, but sending him a nod anyways. vernon grinned, sending a wink and a little finger heart at your acceptance.

→    you spent the first half of the night dancing with your friends, drinking punch that was clearly spiked. but you ended up ditching the school gym in favor of the nearest twenty-four hour diner. sure, they did think it was weird that two high school kids dressed to the nines walked in the place at 8:45 in the evening, but who were they to deny paying customers. it didn’t matter that your rather expensive outfits were going to get ruined by diner food grease, or covered in sticky maple syrup and white powdered sugar. it was certainly better than the stuffy gym, with songs that neither of you enjoyed, and people — the exception being your friends — you barely even knew. 

→    your first and last slow dance was underneath a lone lamppost in the empty diner parking lot. music softly playing from his car’s speakers, the volume low, just loud enough for the two of you to hear as you gently swayed to the beat. your arms wrapped around his neck, his on your waist, pulling each other as close as humanly possible. no words needed to be exchanged, content with the sound of each other’s breathing and the beating of your own hearts.

→    it was difficult to be excited for the day of your graduation when you knew this new beginning also meant the end of something else. the ceremony was over, everyone gathered underneath the sun. parents forced their children to take one more picture, students tearfully hugged their friends goodbye. 

→    you and vernon stood side by side in the sidelines, watching it all unfold. both of you were out of your graduation gowns, diplomas in the hands of your parents for safekeeping. it was time, both of you knew that much.  

“i love you.” vernon said, gaze still straight ahead, “you know that, right?”

“i do.” you nodded, a heavy sigh leaving your lips after. it was the first time he told you he loved you, through words at least, but his actions towards you in your months together always proved that he did. still, it was nice to hear. a wistful smile made its way to your features, “you don’t love me enough to hold on though, and i feel the same way too. ”

“yeah,” he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants, rocking back and forth on his feet,  “first loves don’t usually last.”

you stayed quiet, ignoring the tiniest voice in your head that willed you to protest his words, knowing that it would lead nowhere if you did.

“but you’ll always remember them.” vernon continued his thought from earlier, finally turning to face you. he took your hands, “no matter what happens, or who comes along, you’re my first love. nothing’s going to ever change that fact.”

“you’re mine too.” you replied, trying to ingrain in your memory the warmth of his hands holding yours, how he looked at you with genuine love and regret. tears pricked the corners of your eyes, “i wouldn’t have traded our time together for anything else.”

“i love you, vernon.”

“i love you, yn.” he replied, the second and final time he spoke those words to you.  

→    maybe you shouldn’t have put a deadline on your relationship, would things be different if you hadn’t? would it matter that you left town, attending a university hours away from him? would it matter that he quickly found success in his music? did it even matter that you were always the first to text him a ‘congratulations’ whenever as song of his went #1, and thoughts of him invaded your mind? did it matter that sometimes he laid in bed awake at night, wondering what could’ve been if he shared his moments of success with you?

❥•   every now and then you pay a visit to your old high school. rarely were you ever back in town to do so, but you savored each step your feet took. they always lead you underneath the bleachers, your hand running over the words vernon had written so long ago. over time, they faded until they were eventually painted over. but you knew they were there, that those words existed, that you and vernon lived in that moment once upon a time. despite all the regrets and all the what ifs, the thought of those words alone brought you more comfort than you could ever imagine.

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next  ➤  xu minghao, the boy you met at summer camp

taglist: @t-secretpot @serenadesvt @chuu-soulmate @pooofthechicken @yanniezx​

ask/message to be part of the taglist <33

note; no thoughts head empty only high school bf!vernon,,, also why do these keep getting longer I swear I don't do it on purpose asdfghjkl at this rate I'll be at 15k words by the time I get to jihoon;( anyways, thank you so much for reading ! <33

[chickenmcfly1]

6, 15, 26, 33, 73 for Marty

thanks for the ask!

6. What would they give their life for?

Well first and foremost, Doc. Marty would give his life if it was needed to save Doc in a situation and he really wouldn't think twice about it. The same holds good for Jennifer and his parents and siblings. Outside of people, I think correcting his mistakes is something Marty would give his life for. Like I think if the almanac situation had required Marty to sacrifice his life for some reason to turn 1985A back to the normal 1985, I think that Marty would've easily done it on a mindset of "I made the mistake, and nobody else should feel the repercussions of my actions except me." Now I don't think Doc would ever let it come to this, but that's besides the point.

15. What is something their parents taught them?

There are many things that I can think of from a more cynical angle (like the nonpermanent nature of love and how things can go sour so quickly in relationships) but I'm going to take this from a more positive angle and say that Marty learned from his parents that deep down, under all the dysfunction, familial love is unconditional. Deep down, Lorraine still loves George because she chooses to stay with him and wants him to be better because she loves him and wants to be with a version of him that loves her too. George loves Lorraine, he just doesn't how to express it. Lorraine loves her kids and her harsh parenting, especially around to topic of relationships, is just so her kids don't get hurt in the same way she did (assuming similar stuff went down in the original 1955) and George loves his kids, clearly shown through the way he's apologetic about Biff ruining Marty's weekend plans and the way he tries to protect Marty from getting his feeling hurt (even if he does it by just telling Marty to not try, but it does come from a place of love). This whole family loves each other even though they all suck at expressing it and I think that once Marty is a few years out from that toxic situation, he will realize that the reason all of them were so miserable because of their family life was just because they all wanted better for each other because there was so much love between them. (now PSA, this is just a movie and in real life we shouldn't excuse toxicity bc it's rooted in love. Just thought I needed to follow my statement up with this)

26. Are they aware of their flaws?

Post BTTF III, very much so. In fact, after the trilogy I see Marty being so hyperaware of all of his flaws and shortcomings because he's seen just how one mistake can send someone's whole life down the tubes. So I think after the trilogy, Marty is extremely aware of all his flaws and takes every mistake he makes in any situation (on a school test, in an audition, or just a general life screw up) extremely seriously. I do think he would take being self aware a bit too far, though, and It would cause him a lot of anxiety, but once again, as he grows out, it would probably shift to a healthier balance where Marty is aware that he has to make good decisions and he can't just go wherever his emotions take him, but he doesn't beat himself up over failures and understands that it's okay to not be perfect all the time.

33. What is their biggest fear? How would they react to having to face it?

I think that Marty's biggest fear before time travel was failure. He hates being called chicken, he hates being criticized (he dislikes his mom and Strickland for doing so), he hates messing up and doesn't want to remain in a situation where he might fail (the audition and demo tape), so I guess his initial fear is more not being good enough. So I'd say before the trilogy, his biggest fear is not being enough. After the trilogy, I think it would be his loved ones dying. He's seen it happen one too many times and everyone is afraid of their parents or best friends dying, but having that become a reality so many times has probably made Marty quite paranoid about it. I think post trilogy Marty would face his fear of not being god enough by reminding himself that if he puts his mind to it, he can accomplish anything and by knowing that there is always room to grow and that being better is in his own hands. He would also face it by reminding himself that he doesn't need other people's validation and their opinions of him don't matter. As to his fear of losing his loved ones, I think if it happened, Marty would go to any length to reverse it and fix whatever went wrong.  If he couldn't, I think Marty would break down and somehow blame himself, pushing himself to a very dark mental place for quite some time, but through the natural process that is managing grief, he would eventually pull himself together and focus on honoring that person's memory.

73. Outdoors or Indoors?

I imagine someone as energetic and easily distracted as Marty would feel stifled if they were forced to be indoors for a long time, so outdoors for Marty. I imagine he likes to skateboard around, just listening to music and feeling the wind when he wants to think, and I bet he likes exploring too. But if it's cold outside, Marty does prefer being indoors, padded with many layers and snuggled up with someone by a fire

hope you like the responses!

[justalittlebluetiefling]

idk if you've answered this already when exactly do you think fjord started to realize his feelings for jester were...more than friendly? 👀

Oof anon, this is a toughy. I think I have? But it’s been a while. My answer changes almost every time, I swear. I think this is consistent with my previous feelings on it, though.

So... I actually have full plans to go back and rewatch just the pirate arc. I think episodes 33 - 48ish. And do a full Fjorester dissertation on those with like, screenshots and stuff, because so much changed between those two during that time.

Okay I’m just rambling before actually answering your question lol. This is kind of a long answer anon I’m sort of sorry? I had feelings.

TLDR: He realized that he was in love with her around Episode 72. But the problem is that this is way more layered than that, because his feelings for her have been evolving into something more for the entire campaign.

When do I think Fjord started to realize? The reason I have a hard time answering this is because there were just so many steps. And I’m about to say something that maybe isn’t entirely fair to Fjord and maybe doesn’t give him enough credit, but it sort of ties into the rest of this. I think that for the first few months of traveling with Jester, Fjord kind of had the same ideas about her that a lot of fandom does/did. That she’s silly and happy all the time and nothing affects her. BUT. He had these ideas about her in a much more charitable way. Like... he admired those things about her and they were the parts of her personality that she puts at the forefront, so I honestly don’t blame him for not digging a little deeper.

Now that that has been said, his feelings for her have been constantly changing. 

Travis knows Fjord best obviously, and he says that the Jellyfish talk really affected Fjord, but if we’re going to go there, episode 30 was when someone first pointed out to him that Jester might be putting on an act. Overcompensating with happiness to try to cheer everyone else up. And then he got to see that up close and personal in episode 36 during the Jellyfish talk when she’s truly vulnerable and honest with someone about the way she’s hurting. 

So, it starts there. Not his crush. Not really. But his realization that Jester needs someone to be there for her the way she’s there for everyone else.

But it also sort of starts to put all of her actions into a different light for him, because with everything that she does from there on out, you can sort of see him analyzing it. Is she just putting up a front or is she actually happy?

Not to mention, Jester is just there for him through all of this stuff. No matter what terrifying thing he wants to do next, she’s backing him up. 

And then we reach EPISODE 47. Why did I capslock this? Because I love this episode for them. He hears her praying to the Traveler for his protection. Like. Okay. I’m gonna go off on a tangent for a second, I’m sorry.

I’m thinking about the last episode of Talks about how Travis said that Vandran was Fjord’s first experience of someone truly caring about him, even if it was tough love or kind of shitty. And just the contrast of the way Vandran showed him love and the way Jester shows him love. It’s just someone putting his well-being first, physical and emotional, and wanting him to be safe and happy and to love himself. 

Anyway I’m gonna get emotional. Back to episode 47 when they just have the softest moment in this entire campaign. This is when he realizes that yeah, she’s silly and she’s so flirtatious, but she really, truly cares for him in a way that no one else ever has. And he’s just so touched by this moment. I think it’s the first time he realizes that maybe her feelings for him are deeper than he thinks.

Because even in this moment, I think he’s still so in his head about his past that he can’t really let himself wonder if his feelings for her are deeper than he’s realized.

Still, he’s always shown awareness of Jester’s location, but after the pirate arc, especially episode 45, he starts to be hyperaware of where she is and what she’s doing, especially in battle. Going into overdrive a bit being protective. Which is who he is. Protective over all of his friends. But especially Jester and she reciprocates in kind. 

And he’s always been kind of flirtatious with her, but he really sort of doubles down on it around now. “I am disarming you.” and then I think about the way he smiles when he asks where she is when they’re in Maruo’s shop and she says she’s fallen on top of Caleb and he just grins and says “Hey, Jessie.” And every time things start to get serious between them, they also get sort of awkward. And this is also oddly enough the time she starts to back off with the flirtatious behavior. 

Let’s see, I’m getting off track. What’s the biggest realization in this chain of things. Kravaraad. That conversation. This is the big one. Episode 72. Okay, not sure if you’ve noticed a trend, but a lot of this stuff happens when Fjord is figuring out who he is.... I’m not saying it’s because... you know... Jester’s treated him the most consistently out of anyone in his life and he values her opinion and her support pretty much more than anyone, except. I mean. I am saying exactly that.

But yes. Episode 72. They talk about how sometimes they want to run away. He has all this stuff that’s been building up and it all spills out. HE TELLS HER HE THOUGHT ABOUT LEAVING WHEN HE LOST HIS POWERS THE FIRST TIME. He admits that he wouldn’t do anything to get his powers back. He realizes that maybe he’s prioritizing finding Vandran more than Vandran is prioritizing finding him. 

And Jester wishes she could help more. “Oh, you have been. I’ve known you the longest in this. Sometimes it’s just hard figuring out who you should be instead of who you want to be.” He asks for her opinion on the Wildmother. She promises that their new mission, hers and his, is to do anything to get him away from Uk’otoa. 

Forgive me I just want to YELL over this whole conversation.

Like... he talks to Jester and immediately after this conversation, he’s like, “Fuck you, Uk’otoa” and throws his sword into the lava, losing his powers. He starts talking in his real voice. Jester gives him the strength to try to find the balance between who he should be and who he wants to be.

This is like one of the least subtle things I’ve ever seen in my life. 

And it makes me think of that line in 108: “You know when someone makes you feel a way that you don't think you have any right to feel or you never thought that you might?”

And it’s like everything is changing for him in this moment. This is where he’s officially conscious that his feelings for Jester are more. They’re something big.  

It snowballs from here.

He does little cute things, like making it snow for her and telling her.. she has... an attractive head? Like, Fjord, come on. You have a 20 Charisma and talking to your little blue tiefling friend turns you into a puddle of goo who can’t seem to form an actual sentence. He does big things, like makings sure they take the time to go see the Gentleman. Reassuring her about her power every time she has doubts. LAUNCHING HIMSELF INTO THE AIR OVER AN ACTIVE VOLCANO. You know. Stuff like that.

Well, I hope this answers your question. I just... got carried away. Like I always do. I’m sorry! 

[cameforagoodtime]

One Direction and Management

Okay, to start off, I am a quarantine fan. I didn’t know anything about One Direction until a couple of months ago. I am sure that there are things that I don’t know anything about, and I can guide you to accounts of people who have been fans since the beginning (or at least pre-hiatus) because they are much more knowledgable about everything and also have seen progressions that I will never be able to understand. That being said, in my couple of months being a fan I have seen many misconceptions about the music industry that seem to be prevalent in this fandom. I also need to disclose that I do not have a perfect understanding of the music industry. I have a much better understanding than the general public, but everyone in this fandom has a better understanding of the industry than the GP so that’s not much of a distinction. What sets me apart is that I have access to someone who was formerly a part of the music industry. My dad was in a band for 11 years (from 1989-2000) and during that time he developed an understanding of how the industry works. I know that I am not completely knowledgable about the ins and outs of how the music industry works, but I talk with my dad about music all the time so I have an understanding different than the casual fan. 

Also, most of the time when I am writing about the fandom as a whole I am writing about post-hiatus fans. Most of the long-term fans that I have come across are so battle worn that they intrinsically have a great understanding of the industry. The problem comes from the people that haven’t seen the ebbs and flows of the industry over the last 10 years and tend to make incorrect assumptions.

One thing that I see all the time with the boys (especially Harry) is this inherent distrust of managers and management. I see where it comes from, Modest was absolutely terrible and did terrible things to the boys (though you have to admit even though they’re terrible they operated with incredible amounts of success). The major difference between Modest and all of the boy’s current managements is that they didn’t choose Modest. It’s widely known that the first deal that you get in the industry will take advantage of you. I have heard stories of small bands that are signed to a label that end up having to pay off their debts for decades after. The boys were pigeonholed into a deal with Syco from being on the X-factor, the contracts they had to sign to even be able to compete on the show ensured that. Because of that, Syco was able to take advantage of their naivety and get a better deal (for Syco not for the boys).

In general, management is a separate deal from the label. A label generally does not assign a management team, usually an artist already has a management (or at least a manager) before they negotiate their first deal. Because of the contracts the boys signed to get them on x-factor, they were pigeonholed into Syco and Modest, and then all the problems that we know and love started happening (though I do think that its very interesting to think about the first year and a half where Modest really didn’t exert a lot of control, but that’s a thought for a different post). I think people in this fandom tend to think of every management company as Modest and don’t understand that the first offer (which is what the boys accepted after the X-Factor) is always going to screw you over.

I think the best way to describe the normal relationship between artist, management, and label is that the management works for the artist, the artist works for the label. The reason that the management is necessary is because the label can (and does) try its best to screw people over. Artists hire a management to make sure that their interests are protected in the face of the label. I think most of what I am talking about is with Harry, so mostly I’m going to talk about the Azoffs. 

Irving Azoff is one of the best managers in the industry. He won an honorary grammy, and he is widely regarded as the most powerful person in the music industry. The way he has gained this power is by being cut throat. I am in no way defending Irving (or Jeff) Azoff, I think it is very likely that they are terrible people, but they are undoubtedly very good at their jobs. Your manager should not be your best friend, and I think all of the boys know that. Your manager should, however, be someone that you believe will fight tooth and nail for your best interests, and the Azoffs have proven time and time again that they are willing to do that. Irving Azoff is widely credited for the weakening of power that the labels have had over the last couple of decades because of his willingness to cut other people down for his clients. 

Here is where we get into my experiences. My dad’s manager was a guy named Alan (Al). Al is a super awesome guy, was a great manager for my dad, but at the end of the day he is pushy, micromanages everything, and I’m not going to lie I’ve heard stories of my dad being super annoyed with him. The reason my dad kept him around, however, was because he was really good at his job. Al would negotiate with the venue to get he highest pay, he would negotiate with the label to get more money out of a record, and sometimes he did the hard thing and told the band the things they didn’t want to hear. This was all his job. My dad still plays a show every two years or so with the band, and Al still tries to negotiate the highest amount of money he can out of a concert (even though my dad and all of his bandmates have other careers now and don’t really need the money). Al is now one of the managers for Duran Duran, is on the board for like 7 companies, and is altogether really successful, but it’s not because he was the nicest person to be around, in fact it’s mostly because of the opposite. 

I absolutely love Al, but he is such an asshole sometimes, and it’s because of that trait that he was a good manager. The same goes with the Azoffs. Yes, they probably aren’t great people, most people in positions of power like that aren’t. They are good managers because of their asshole tendencies, not in spite of. 

One of the things that makes me the most frustrated in this fandom is this inherent distrust of the Azoffs off of the belief that they manipulated Harry into signing an un-beneficial contract. This idea seems to stem from the belief that Harry isn’t smart enough to realize he’s being manipulated. I can assure everyone that after 10 years of being high level in the music industry, Harry is well aware when he’s being manipulated. I’m sure that he’s aware of his position and how people will try to take advantage of him, and I’m certain that he’s hyperaware of the fact that people are going to try to manipulate him. The major difference lies in the fact that 26 year old Harry is armed with a plethora of knowledge about the inner workings of the industry and a really good legal team that looks over and negotiates every contract he signs, 16 year old harry was not. 

In conclusion, managers suck, but that’s the whole point of their job. No one is best friends with their management. So no, Jeff Azoff is not the devil and forcing Harry to stay off of social media because of image control. It’s realistic that after 10 years in the public eye he wants the keep his life private (I absolutely do not blame him). I think that it’s likely that his label is controlling him and his image a bit (again, a post for another time) but I don’t really think Jeff is forcing Harry to do anything he doesn’t want to do. Harry isn’t a naive 16 year old anymore. He has an understanding of the industry much deeper than anyone in the fandom because his is all first person.

I also think its important to note that the image we were getting of the boys while in the band was also not authentic. I think that this is something that is too often forgotten, but even at the beginning when they seemed to be given a free for all there were clear messages that each of them were tasked with delivering. I think that the perception is often that management was less controlling of their social media during one direction, and while to some extent this is true, it’s important to note that their public persona has never been a true representation of them. We do not, nor have we ever, truly known who these boys are. We only know what they are willing to publicize.

I might make more posts about things people don’t understand if there are any requests (or if I just get bored). If anyone actually is reading this I’m sorry that you had to read through all of that, but if you have any questions (which I’m sure you do, I’m really bad at explaining things) just message me and I will be happy to explain it.

EDIT: I feel like this may come across as me saying that management disputes don’t happen in the industry. They absolutely do, it’s just that it doesn't seem likely that Harry in particular is having management disputes. All of the boys (except maybe Liam, but I don’t know enough about that particular situation) seem to be okay with their management teams. Harry seems to be totally fine with Jeff, so people really need to stop saying that he is unhappy. Jeff isn’t controlling all of his actions like people seem to think

I also think it’s important to remember that Niall is still signed to Modest, and it doesn’t seem to be forced. Modest may have been terrible management for Louis and Harry (and even though i don’t know enough about their specific situations I’ll group Liam and Zayn into this category as well) but clearly they were good managers for Niall. Every single situation is different but people need to realize that management doesn’t do all of the image control, they execute a lot from the label as well (and Syco seems pretty homophobic so...)

[sweetsoobinie]

✧･ﾟ: *✧ 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐗𝐓 ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➪fluff

➪1.3k words

{a/n: this is my first headcanon, hope you enjoy!!}

𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧

would push for watching a horror film because he likes when you clutch onto his shirt/cuddle into him during the scary parts

also likes to coo at you when you protest

“what, is my baby a scaredy cat? so precious that a few little jumpscares is too much to handle??”

but if you really really didn’t want to watch a horror movie then he would drop it, it’s no fun if you aren’t enjoying it at least a little bit

your happiness is his happiness :)

honestly even if he loathes a genre, he’ll watch it with you and try his best to enjoy it!!

touches you the entire time (innocently you heathens)

would have his arm around your shoulder & trace patterns on your skin

sometimes it’s not enough contact for him though, and he’ll just pick you up at the waist and set you down on his lap

skinship is a must, okay?

doesn’t matter what you’re watching, he likes embracing you (´ ꒳ ` ✿)

yeonjun would make the both of you either ramen or popcorn

and be finished with his within the first five minutes

would then proceed to steal share your food

if you complain or tell him to stop he’ll give you puppy eyes and make his lips go all pouty

because he knows you can’t say no to him like that

(cheeky boy)

jun is the type to watch you more than the movie

seeing your eyes widen, lips turn up into a smile, or your nose scrunch is much more captivating to him than any billion dollar production could ever hope to be

𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧

soob has only seen a handful of movies, so he’d love for you to show him your favorites

sees it as a chance to get even closer with you :)

snugglebug uwu

likes having you sit in between his legs with your back pressed against his chest

wraps his arms around your middle and just squishes

cozy blankets are a must-have

soobin is really sensitive to the cold, so his favorite thing is to wrap up in ridiculous amounts of blankets with you

the thing with watching movies with binie is, he talks the whole time

he’ll commentate on every little thing a character does, call out stupid actions, predict endings, judge the acting

so sometimes you have to nudge him and go “soob please”

he discovered that he isn’t a fan of romance movies, but will still watch them with you

just be prepared for him to laugh the whole time & scrunch up his nose at cheesy lines

but he likes action movies a lot!!! that’ll probably be your guys’ go-to after burning through your favorites :)

marvel. marathon.

didn’t like watching spiderman with you though

baby boy got a little jealous

“stop blushing at the screen, i’m cuter than tom holland”

his lips went “ㅅ”

honestly its kinda hard to tell if he’s joking or actually upset

would pout until you showered him in compliments

hksjdnfkf he’s too cute

soobin would go ALL OUT on snacks

you’d have popcorn, ice cream, chips, soda, ramen, regrets the next day

but it would be amazing

𝐁𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮

loves watching comedies together

your laugh is his favorite sound (and vice versa)

gyu is also a huge snugglebug

he likes to be leaning back against the couch’s armrest with you on his lap

when you rest your face in the crook of his neck, giving him the opportunity to nuzzle his cheek into the top of your head??? now that’s the good shit

when hilarious scenes come on, you can feel the vibrations of his laugh throughout your entire body

it’s blissful

besides snacking on some chips at the beginning, he would be too busy holding you to care about eating during the movie

would absentmindedly play with your hands

brings them up to his lips and gives them lil kisses

laughs at you when you hide your face in embarrassment

you two make jokes and vague references about the movies you watch for days afterwards

all the other members are just like “????”

sometimes he’ll randomly stare at you with a serious expression, waiting for you to notice

then giggles when you see him and get flustered

honestly he‘ll probably focus on making you giggle more so than he will on the movie

you’re much more entertaining than films are in his eyes (✿◠‿◠)

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧

with tae i can see you watching anything and everything

disney movie marathons? check

action? check

nature documentaries? check

romance? check

the two of you also love “hate watching” movies, in a sense

and by that i mean yall just know a movie is going to be horrible, but you put it on anyways

its a good laugh, and you find it fun to act like mini film critics (even if you don’t know the first thing about cinematography)

you two binged all five twilight movies for this reason

“tae i would’ve filed a restraining order if you stalked me like edward”

“well if you were bella i wouldn’t stalk you anyways, she has no personality”

“how does my mom find this sparkly piece of wet cardboard dreamy?”

“he just admitted to watching her while she sleeps and she’s swooning????? i hate this movie”

“i’m lowkey team jacob”

“tae, you’re just saying that because he’s built.

but lowkey me too”

(lmao sorry if you’re into twilight)

yall can demolish a family-size bag of chips before the climax of the film even hits

he would scold you for getting crumbs on the couch

even though he got crumbs all over his lap

i feel like you two would go either way with cuddling/skinship???

i can see you being super casual about it, just holding hands or lying your legs across his lap

but i can also vividly picture taehyun having you cuddled into his chest with his arms around you

can yall just imagine tae holding you with those strong arms of his?? he’s not even my bias but it gives me butterflies in my stomach (*´∇｀*)

where does taehyun end and y/n begin??? scientists across the globe are struggling to answer this burning question

depends on your mood as to how cuddly yall are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

𝐇𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐚𝐢

you two go all out

the couch gets deconstructed and repurposed into a giant pillow fort

blankets e v e r y w h e r e

kai finds the biggest bowl he can and you both spend half an hour making popcorn to fill it

he got it all over the floor when trying to mix in salt and butter

(but that’s okay, five second rule)

you both like watching classics when on movie dates, forrest gump never goes wrong

but you two are babie so you watch animated movies all the time too

STUDIO GHIBLI

“i wish totoro was real”

“he is real what are you talking about”

would put on those sing along versions of disney movies w/ lyrics at the bottom of the screen

and alternate between using his gorgeous singing voice and belting out words in the most ear piercing tone possible

kai is still a little shy about cuddling, so you huddle hip to hip in the fort

and balance the popcorn bowl on your two touching legs

i think he would try his best to focus on the movie, but would be hyperaware of your existence

you’re just too cute, close contact makes him a lil nervous (;｡•́‿•̀｡)

that super corny (ha) thing where you both reach for the popcorn and touch hands definitely happens

except you kinda clutch his entire hand with a death grip because you were going for a fistfull

still cute tho

without a doubt, kai will lean over and give you a quick cheek kiss at some point during the film ( ˘ ³˘)❤︎

it was just sitting there, looking so soft and cute and squishy and tempting, how could he not???

turns tomato red afterwards lol

laughs sO LOUD at any and all jokes, audibly pouts at sad scenes

he’s babie okay???? please appreciate how precious your hueningie is

[imagine-loki]

Helmet Heists

TITLE: Helmet heists

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine “borrowing” Loki’s helmet to wear for a full day on a dare. The inside is unbelievably sweaty, and you can’t tell if the extra goo is hair gel or mousse, but a dare is a dare.

Loki walks up to see his helmet wobbling precariously on your head. “(Name), what are you doing?”

“Hunting bilgesnipe,” you retort. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: I’ve been on a kick of writing these one-shots as snapshots in the friendship of Loki and Becca because, why not? Tonight I felt like he needed a friend, so I made a funny, fluffy, friendly fic. Some language, dubious timelines (who even cares, honestly?) and Loki I-don’t-know-how-to-make-friends Odinson moments.

=

“Come on, Becks! You took the dare and now you have to deliver,” Sam teased. He was sitting on the benchtop of one of her lab tables, being a general nuisance. As always. Though she loved the man (and his absurd confidence), he had the uncanny ability of getting on her nerves (probably also because of his absurd confidence). At least he was a handy and willing test subject for her new inventions, as well as a decent ’here, hold this’ assistant.

Beside him, Rebecca was bent over a small circuit board and motor, adjusting the tension of some screws with the same precision a heart surgeon would pay to open-heart surgery. Behind her darkened UV goggles, she rolled her eyes, though he could not see. She had a feeling he could feel her expression. “Absolutely not, Sam.”

“The forfeit is much worse and you know it.”

“The forfeit won’t get me a dagger through the heart.” She paused, blowing the fringe out of her face and tilting up just enough to look at him. “Actually, that might not be true. He might stab me, either way. 

This was ridiculous. Why had she even agreed to this stupid dare? Oh, right. She had been drunk as all hell when the challenge had been proposed. They had all been drunk, to be fair, but they seemingly had the fortitude of mind to remind her of this little adventure once the hangover had subsided.

Stupid superheroes and their stupid alcohol tolerance!

Sam snorted, lifting a single eyebrow at her. "Not with a dagger, he wouldn’t.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make her groan. “Come on, not even Prince Sourpuss could resist you a cutie like you laying one on him.”

“One, you’re disgusting, Sam. Two, I’m pretty sure kissing someone out of the blue is assault and I doubt he’d enjoy it.” Becca pushed him until he scooted down the line. “Three, you’re in my workspace. Please get lost.”

“Not before you get that helmet.”

The automatic doors hissed open, making them both look up. Tony was striding in with a grin on his face. He either had very good or very bad intentions. “Where’s the helmet, Buttercup?”

“Please, no,” she groaned. Of course, he would be here to pester her, too. Becca fought the urge to throw something in Tony’s direction–it had been he who set the dare.

“You took the dare! It’s the law!” He grimaced playfully. “And I’m morbidly curious as to whether or not he would try to kill the only person he tolerates in the tower as revenge. Think of it as research.”

The doors hissed open again. “Lady Becca, do you need assistance procuring my brother’s helmet?”

“For fuck’s sake! I am trying to work! You know, the stuff you pay me to do,” she jabbed a finger in Tony’s direction, “and y'all need me to do to survive on missions?” She gestured the other two with a frown.

Bruce rushed into the lab, glancing over his shoulder every couple of steps. “I think Loki just went to the gym, if you want to go grab the stuff.”

Becca’s mouth set into a grim line. All the faces looking down at her were clearly ecstatic to see how this dare would play out. If she didn’t know any better she would say they didn’t much care for her to continue breathing. When the expectant looks turned pleading, she rolled her eyes, pulling off the black nitrile gloves she had been wearing and tossing them into the bin beside the bench. Her goggles met the lab bench a second later.

Throwing open a drawer, she fished out a metal vambrace, a hybrid between Tony’s plasma-shooting gauntlets and Peter’s webshooters. Slipping it over her right hand, she flexed her fingers experimentally, enjoying the crackle of static that came from her fingers at he action. If she was walking into the lion’s den, she definitely wasn’t doing it without some sort of protection.

“Keep Loki in the gym. I’ll be in and out in twenty.”

Thor grinned huge, nodding enthusiastically before following her out into the hallways. While he turned towards the gym, she turned up to the emergency staircase. She took the stairs by pairs and allowed herself a second to catch her breath at the landing. Quietly, she sneaked towards the back of the east wing, hyperaware of all the noises around her.

It wasn’t that she was scared of Loki, volatile and moody as he was, it was… no… that was a lie… she was scared. It was well justified fear. Becca had once witnessed Loki skewer three opponents with a single dagger after one of them ripped his leather armor. He was very particular about his things. And though she was on friendly terms with the man (as friendly as anyone could ever be with the surly demigod), she wouldn’t put a light stabbing past him for “borrowing” his stuff.

The door to his rooms was unlocked, strangely enough. No one ever came back here, save for Thor, so it made sense that Loki did not bother with security measures. The inside was impeccably organized–all right angles and open spaces. The only cramped area seemed to be the towering bookcases, packed to the brim with leather-bound tomes that looked well-loved. As much as Becca wished she could dilly-dally and peruse titles, the voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she only had so much time before she had to disappear from the premises.

Slipping towards the bedroom, she stepped towards the old-fashioned wardrobe. Opening the dark wood door, she spied the helmet resting on its own shelf a little above her eye line. Reaching up, she pulled it from its resting place, letting a startled huff leave her lips as the unexpected weight pulled her arms down.

“How the hell does he even keep this on his head?” She wondered aloud, testing the heft of the golden horns with a frown.

Turning the helmet over, she peaked inside, pulling a face instantly. She should have expected–it was a piece of battle armor, after all. But as clean as he kept his room, she would have thought he cared equally for his armor. On the inside of the golden horns there were smudges and glistening patches of salt from dried sweat. A mysterious thick substance lingered at the very bottom. Was it gel? Was it oil? Something else entirely? She shuddered to think its true composition. A good wipe down was key before attempting to put the helmet anywhere near her face.

The lab was all abuzz as Becca stepped back inside, helmet bobbing at her side as she held it by a horn. Tony whooped at the sight, strangely ecstatic about the fact that she was to have the horns on all day. She worried she might need a neck brace when she was done.

Sitting at her bench, she pulled a microfiber towel and the same cleaning solution she used for delicate electronics. If anything went wrong with the helmet, she was sure that she’d be murdered. A cursory wipe pulled out grime and gunk that made her (and Sam, who still had not gotten lost) gag. The cleaning solution went on and when she wiped everything away, the inside of the helmet gleamed and glistened under the bright lab lights.

“Put it on. Put it on! PUT IT ON!” Sam chanted, Bruce and Tony followed suit a moment later. Even FRIDAY overhead joined in on the childish taunting until Becca groaned, acquiescing. All she had to do was stay in the lab and finish her work. The day would be over before she knew it and she could return the helm before it was missed.

The horns were a lot more comfortable than she would have thought, for an all-metal hat. It was easy to notice the difference in size between herself and Loki, as the horns would slide back over her head whenever she moved. The garment was also incredibly heavy, to the point that she could feel herself actively straining to keep her neck from snapping to whatever direction the helmet was slipping in.

“OK, there. Are you guys happy now? Can I keep working?” Becca asked, glaring.  Her hands plucked another pair of gloves from the box, but they were quickly swiped from her hands.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re on the testing floor today,” Tony said, smiling.

So this was his grand idea–getting his weapons tech murdered.

“That is a hard pass. I can barely hold my head up as it is, and–”

“Testing floor. Now. That is an order.”

Becca snorted, stealing her gloves back and hunching over her workspace. “Tony, I’ve never followed your orders before. Why would I start now?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking eerily confident in himself. “Because I have hidden your Mark III for the proton gun on the testing floor and sent Peter to guard it.”

Her head snapped up and a muscle in her neck seized, making her groan while she massaged it. “You wouldn’t dare.” He simply pulled out a StarkPad and pulled the video feed of the testing floor. Becca stood up so quickly her chair toppled over. The group followed her as she ran past the lab doors and towards the testing floor.

Most of the techs had stopped tittering every time she walked past them in the insane headwear. At the very least, they had stopped throwing objects to catch on the horns, as if it were a bizarre game of horseshoes. A well-placed glare–a rare occurrence of the tech geek–had taken care of that rather quick. Becca had to admit, though, the extra height the helmet gifted her made her feel much more confident than she was. Her posture was better (though that had a lot to do with the fact that her neck was likely to break if she wasn’t ramrod straight); her speech, more formal. Thor had even remarked that she had adopted some of the mannerisms his brother often displayed.

She was sitting on a stool, adjusting some of Thor’s new smart bracelets when the room went deathly silent. Even Thor, who had been standing patiently while she turned him this way and that, stilled suddenly.

The hair on the back of Becca’s neck stood on end and she did not have to turn around to know that it was Loki currently staring daggers at her. Her hand grasped a horn to still the helmet as she tilted her head, trying to will Loki out of the room just by virtue of her thoughts.

“Rebecca, what are you doing?” The dark, smooth voice was deceptively nonchalant. Her whole arms erupted in goosebumps at the question. Oh, she was dead.

Turning her head slightly, she caught his form over her shoulder. He was dressed casually (well, casual for him), trousers and a sweater, one hand in his pocket–generally looking easy–despite the pointed intensity of his eyes.

“Hunting bilgesnipe,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” When she faced Thor again, he was staring back in wide-eyed panic and the feeling of dread settled in her stomach like a rock.

“I beg your pardon?” The phrase sounded a lot more like ’what the fuck did you just say?’, in her opinion.

The dare entailed for her to act like there was nothing amiss, should she be discovered by Loki during her day wearing the helmet. Right about now, she thought the idea was the stupidest thing she had ever agreed to.

“I’m just helping Thor with some gear.” Somewhere in the background Peter was chanting ’oh no’ over and over. “Is there something you need?”

A long stretch of silence followed the question. In her head, Becca supposed he was wondering whether to murder her now, in front of all these people, or later, in her apartment. She had not just stolen something of his, but she was being sassy and contrary–

He chuckled. “I suppose my business can wait. I’ll sit with the Spiderboy while you finish.”

“OK. Sounds good,” she replied, though her voice choked half-way through. She mouthed ’he’s going to kill me at Thor’, swiping her index finger over her neck to drive the point home. Thor merely blinked back at his brother, confused.

Becca procrastinated as long as it was physically possible. She had gone over the same specs so many times, that she could predict the radiation readings for every type of spark Thor could make. The god of Thunder smiled wryly, trying to be encouraging as he stepped away. He patted her shoulder, giving a light squeeze before leaving her workstation. The sensation of being watched surged, once more, and Loki had taken Thor’s place before her.

Glancing upwards, she offered him a shy smile in hopes of some sort of emotion breaking through his poker face. “What’s on your mind, Loki?”

He fought against a smile as he sat across from her, tossing his Stark mobile phone at her. “Seems to have frozen again. Do you mind taking a look?”

Becca tutted under her breath, swiping through the root directory, happy to be focusing on absolutely anything else. “I keep telling Tony his software doesn’t do well with your seidr, but he keeps not listening.” She had to react quickly to the horns slipping forward.

Balancing it back in a somewhat comfortable position, she continued to tinker away. When she shifted, her instinct was to guard the helmet, again, but found that where it had been too big and burdensome a moment before, it was now resting comfortably and snug on her head. Her blood ran cold and her fingers stilled.

“Anything the matter?” There was a laugh in his voice now and it was somehow worse than if he were mad. He had not been titled the God of Mischief for being a dear.

“No. Just thinking,” she fibbed, though she knew it was useless.

“Did you get a haircut?” When she cut her eyes up, he was resting his chin on his open palm, elbow propped on the table. His eyes sparkled with amusement. “No? There’s something different about you, I just can’t put my finger on it.” He brushed the fingers of his free hand over the sleeve of her t-shirt. “New top?”

“Er… nope. Nothing different. Nothing at all,” she squeaked. There was a lingering sensation to his touch, a strange tingle. Her fingers challenged themselves to a speed-run of rebooting his phone. The sooner he had no reason to be around her, the better it would be. He already knew she had stolen his helmet, which was the point of the dare. She would go straight up to his room after work and grovel for forgiveness, if needed. Cell phone restarted, she handed it back to him with a tight-lipped smile. “There we go. Ready to roll.”

Loki grinned, taking back the phone. “Thank you very much, Rebecca. You’re possibly the only good and true mortal in this prison!.” He rose from his seat, only to turn back about ten paces later. “Oh, darn. It seems to have gone again.” When she focused on his hands, there was a green glow over the screen.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she growled out through clenched teeth.

“Is there a problem, dear?”

She took a deep breath to relax and forced a smile. “Not at all, Loki.”

Becca reached for the phone, only to let out a yelp when he closed his fingers around her wrist. “New necklace. That’s it, isn’t it?” He was enjoying this game far too much.

“Why? Just… why?” She cried, pitifully, her meaning obvious. Loki merely shrugged and chuckled, releasing her hand from his grasp and assuming his original position. She set back to the task of rebooting his phone. Halfway through, she stopped, tilting her head curiously, recalling the glow a moment prior. “Does your phone crash a lot?”

“Every now and again,” he responded carefully. “As you said, Stark does not listen to recommendations.”

It was true, Becca had mentioned several times how Loki’s phone would inexplicably freeze while he was using it. Tony had assured her that there was nothing interfering with the phone, other than Loki wanting to be a bother. She also knew that he had not been at their evening of pizza and beer the night before, claiming to have better things to do.

She resumed her work, moving her fingers steadily over the holographic screen. “Do you like to read? I keep looking for book trade buddies, but they are in short supply on Stark tower.”

The turn in conversation took him aback. “Oh, er, well… yes.”

“Cool! I have lots of history and historic fiction–it seems your style. I also have a good mystery and fantasy collection, if that’s more your thing.” She returned the phone with a smile. “I can bring some over tonight, if you want. Ooh, and Chinese food. We can make an evening of it.”

He gave a confused nod before floating away, glancing over his shoulder every so often, stopping to explain the situation in his head, and continue on.

At the back of the testing floor, Tony and Bruce looked dejected while Peter just looked relieved. They had expected significantly more shouting and flying knives from the encounter. Becca half-thought that they just wanted an excuse to pick on Loki, despite the fact he had been behaving recently. She offered a smug grin before finishing her work and heading out.

Loaded up with cartons of Chinese food and books, horns still on her head (the delivery guy had nearly died at the sight), Becca knocked on Loki’s door. He answered promptly a moment later, somewhat hesitant. She placed the books on the counter, and unpacked the food as Loki hovered anxiously out of the corner of her eye.

“I won’t bite, I promise,” she teased. Loki reluctantly came nearer the table and pulled a seat. “Oh, one last thing.” With a quick tug, she removed the horns from her head. She massaged her head and attempted to tame her hair in one motion. “I think these are yours. I must have taken them by mistake. I swear, I have the same exact pair!”

Loki laughed easily, shaking his head. “I’m sure you do. Did you win, at the very least?”

“I did. Banner was too chicken to streak down Fifth Ave.” She grabbed an eggroll and took a bite. “You should join us next time.”

He made a noise of derision. “Then how will I know what you look like in my armor?” His sarcasm flowed easily, though Becca was aware of the implication of his statement. Who would they make fun of if he showed up?

Becca smirked, rolling her eyes. “I mean, I can go put it on right now, if that’s what you want.” They both laughed at the absurdity,. “It’s OK if you don’t want to, but it’d be nice. I’d appreciate a friend there.” She held out the helm with a warm smile, eagerly diving into a box of chicken when relieved of the armor.

Loki grabbed his helmet and hefted it easily. “I’ll think about it.” He frowned. “Did you clean my helmet?”

“Of course I did, dude. That thing was nasty!” She giggled, throwing a piece of carrot at him when he scowled at her. He retaliated with a noodle. She threw an eggroll. He donned his helmet, grabbed a carton of chow mein and gave chase, laughing freely.

Tony watched as his weapons tech dashed across the hallway, her track and field training giving her a slight advantage against the long-legged Asgardian who cackled as he followed a second later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe the dare had been a bad idea.

[strayen-fx]

My Roommate Is A Demon | Part Three

Lee Minho x (fem)reader

Genre: Angst, smut

Wordcount: 2k

Warnings: Highly suggestive, fingering, swearing, master kink, Minho being a demon

A/N: It took me three months to decide if I should write it, three hours to decide if I should post it. My first smut fic (and maybe the LAST) huhu please spare me ㅠㅠㅠㅠ I also shifted into second person pov bcs I can't handle writing this in first person I think I will hyperventilate. Don't judge kskaksksk feedbacks will be appreciated tho❣ lezzgetit

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"Are you sure you can handle this?"

Minho smirked at you, a glint of mischief evident in his eyes. "Of course, baby. Don't think your measly human party could even compare to the real deal."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the nickname he had loved to tease you with. Sometimes -- just sometimes -- you forget that your roommate was literally thrown from hell. Of course, nothing he would see in the mortal world could shake him.

...maybe.

It has been a few weeks since Minho has permanently settled in your house. You have learned to handle the weird shenanigans the demon would usually do. He wasn't that bad -- he helps with the household chores and takes care of your cats with utmost pleasure. And he should -- he was the one who brought Dori into your house, afterall.

There were a few moments, though, when you regret taking the demon in. Especially in mornings, when he'd be walking around in your house half-naked. Or at nights when he'd opt to invade your bed and be the big spoon. Or right now, as he stood in front of you, all confidence and poise with his black button-down and skinny pants.

Lee Minho is sooo bad for your health.

You really hate the way he's making you feel things. Your heart is constantly making these tiny explosions, you wonder if you could even live until the end of the semester.

The fact that he has insisted on coming with you to the party doesn't help your case.

You haven't told your friends about him yet, although they have already started getting suspicious when you constantly kept them away from your house and bailed out of your movie nights. Don't even get started with Jisung -- the lad was very much frustrated that he can't go and play with your cats anymore. (You couldn't wait for him to see Dori, though. Imagine the stars in his eyes when he sees the kitten.)

Their growing suspicion plus your growing guilt were the reasons why you have agreed to go to the party. What you didn't expect though was Minho throwing tantrums until you allowed him to come with you.

Fine, you thought. He probably won't mess around -- you just planned to stick with him until the end of the night and make sure none of you would fuck up.

What do people usually say? Nothing really ever goes the way it's planned. Yeah.

Chan was the one holding the party that night. Nothing huge, he said, just a few of his friends and colleagues from the music department. But it seemed like you and Chan had different definitions of few.

For countless times already, you have been inside the unit Chan shared with Jisung and Changbin. It was huge and spacious for a college dorm, and you knew it could probably accommodate every student in the music department. But still, you were beyond surprised when you saw a platoon of cars parked in front of your friends' building. Couples littered the parking space, holding cups of what you assumed was booze.

You were suddenly feeling jittery and nervous. It had been months since you last went to a party. You were about to tell Minho to restart the engine and bring you home, but even before you could utter a word, Minho had already went and expertly parked your car. He threw the door open and strode confidently towards the source of the music. You groaned internally before catching up to him.

On your way in, you got distracted by how people -- men and women alike -- were looking over to check Minho out. And well, you couldnt blame them -- Minho was... Minho. Confidence naturally flows out of him. He's handsome without even trying. His perfect built was well-complimented by his shirt and jeans, which was tight around the right places. Too tight, in fact, that your imagination was running towards places you didn't want it to run to.

I'm already drunk, alright, you thought to yourself. And I haven't even drank yet.

The flow of people was much worse inside. Good music was blaring through the speakers, thank Changbin for that, and it would have made the party bearable if not for the unholy view of couples grinding on the dance floor.

A few people you knew came up to you to say hi, and soon after, you lost sight of Minho. The demon. He didn't even have the common courtesy to hang out with the person who brought him to that place. And he didn't know anyone else there, for goodness' sake...

You tried to look for him among the crowd, but he was easily absorbed into the tightly-packed, sweaty crowd going at it with the music. You weren't worried for Minho or anything, you were just worried a schoolmate of yours would suddenly erupt in a literal ball of flames.

After a few minutes, you finally found your demon -- in the arms of a brunette who was wearing too much makeup and too few clothing. She was practically attached to Minho like a koala, and the fucker seemed like he was enjoying it.

You immediately stamped out of their view before either of them could see you staring. Sure, Minho is handsome. And hot. And sexy. You knew that all too well. Still, you can't help but feel annoyed by the fact that somebody has attached herself to him like that just that easily. You have been gone for like, what, ten minutes? And he has already forgotten about your existence. He didn't even bother to offer you a drink before going off and attaching himself to a random someone.

He's a true-blue demon, through and through.

You sought refuge on the lounge, finding it lucky that no one else was occupying it. No one to comment on your sulky face. You wanted to get wasted, so you decided to down one cup of beer after another. That was the purpose of parties, afterall. To get wasted.

You were on your fourth, probably fifth cup when somebody held your wrist that clutched the beer.

"Woah there, Y/Nie, slow down."

You were about to snap at the person who interrupted your way to getting wasted. But then you were met by Chan's bright smile, and you immediately felt your heart get lifted.

"Channie..."

The boy sat beside you, taking the cup from your grip. "What's got you so frustrated, huh?"

"Nothing," you sighed. "Nothing important."

Chan smiled widely, showing off his dimples. "Yeah? We're here to enjoy the party. We're not here to sulk."

Chan inched closer, and you were suddenly hyperaware of your skirt that was riding up your thighs. Chan's eyes were dark, and you can see the way he looked at your top. Like he was imagining how he could rid of your garments right there on the couch.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time. There was a time in the past when he helped you get rid of your pent-up stress...

You pressed your thighs together, feeling the heat down south. This action didn't go unnoticed to Chan, however. He rested a warm hand on your thigh, caressing it painfully slow, stroking your inner thigh and doing things that made you whimper.

The thought of doing something filthy on the couch in the middle of a crowded party was too overwhelming for you, and the smirk on Chan's face wasn't helping.

Well fuck, you thought. If Minho is out there living his life with a random koala, nothing should stop me from enjoying the night as well.

You were already starting to get lost within the swirling feelings in your head when suddenly, a strong hand pulled you off of the couch, away from Chan's touch.

"We're going home," Minho growled.

"W-wha-"

"And who are you?" Chan said, now standing up to meet Minho's gaze.

You were standing in between the two of them, feeling the tension rise between the guys. You were frustrated, your heat was left uncared for because of Minho, who was just flirting with a girl he barely knew a few seconds ago. And now he had the nerve to cockblock?

"Y/N's boyfriend," Minho said.

You almost choked in your own saliva.

Chan's reaction was beyond shocked. "Y/N doesn't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, she has. And we are living together. So shut up and get your hands off her before I send your sorry soul to hell. Believe me, I can." You can almost see fire on Minho's eyes, and you knew he meant the threat he dropped.

Without another word, Minho pulled you away and out of the party. Chan didn't try to stop him -- either he believed Minho really was your boyfriend, or he felt fear towards the man.

Minho practically shoved you into your car before he got into the driver's seat. He revved the car back to your home without saying anything.

Minho opened the door to your apartment, and before you could even take two steps in, he slammed the door and pushed you against it, his both hands caging you.

"What the fuck did you think were you doing?"

Anger flared up in your insides. What the fuck?

"You don't own me, Lee Minho," you snapped. "You are not my master. If you can fuck whoever you want, then I can screw with whoever I want. So back off!"

Minho was taken aback, and you took this chance to get free from his grip. But Minho was fast. He got you pinned against the wall this time, with your wrists above your head.

Now you're done for.

"Not so fast, baby. Did you say I don't own you? Did you say I am not your master?"

Minho's voice was suddenly deeper and raspier, and it gave you a different feeling. You felt your legs turn into jelly. His eyes bore into yours, and the smug look in them told you that he knew what you were thinking.

"I can smell your dripping heat, baby. Your pretty lips are saying something, but your body is doing the opposite. Too eager to get fucked by your master?"

You whined at Minho's choice of words. Before you can try to deny his words, Minho's lips crashed against yours. You imagined it would be messy, but it wasn't. Anything but. It was sensual and passionate, delivering the emotions Minho couldn't say in words. And you were kissing him back, needy and deprived of attention.

Then Minho's fingers were on your heat. He pushed your underwear to the side. "Fuck, so wet. You're a pretty cumslut, you know that? Acting all high and innocent when all you wanted was a dick inside of you."

You whined. Fuck, why were you so turned on with the way he was degrading you? Without any warning, Minho inserted two fingers inside of you. You screamed in pain and pleasure, enjoying the way his fingers pushed in and out of you.

Minho trailed kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone, feeling proud of the marks he was leaving on you. He yanked your top with his free hand, massaging your breast and playing with your erect nipple. He sucked at one while playing with the other, eliciting a dirty moan from you.

Everything felt like pure bliss, and your brain was getting all haywire. The lewd sounds weren't helping with the fog in your head. All you could think of was Minho ruining you in every way possible. You can only imagine -- if his fingers already felt that good, how much more would it feel with him inside of you? The thought alone was enough to make you moan even louder, almost making you reach your high.

When Minho felt your pussy clench around his fingers, he immediately pulled out. You whined with the sudden lack of contact, but then Minho was carrying you bridal style towards your room. He threw you against the mattress then he got rid of his own clothes. You were welcomed by the sight of his well toned abs, and your mouth watered upon seeing his bare thighs. And his cock -- well fuck. You wanted to taste it.

"The first time you're cumming for me, baby, I want you to cum around your master's dick."

[daniellesimagines]

Spin the Bottle (Luke Hemmings)

word count: 2053 requested by: none pronouns: she/her warnings: swears fandom: 5 seconds of summer au type: enemies, frat boy, college summary: spin the bottle is always a fun time until you have to kiss the one person in the circle you can't stand to be around inspired by: none authors notes: none other parts: none

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Would you still have attended the party if you knew Luke was going to be there? Yes. Would you still have agreed to play a game if you knew Luke was playing too? Sure. Would you still have played if you knew that game was spin the bottle and you'd have to kiss Luke? Of course not.

But you would, you had, and you did.

Luke Hemmings was quite possibly the bane of your existence – the root of every problem you seemed to have since the day you met him at college orientation. He hated you and you didn't like him, and that was it.

Until one party game changed it.

It was your turn to spin the bottle, reaching over and giving it the fastest whirl you could. Your eyes followed the neck of the bottle as soon as it stopped spinning, finding it had landed on the boy you were forced to sit next to.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment – why did it have to land in him of all the people in the circle? – before just sucking it up and turning to face him. Luke was already watching you, surprised that you'd even started leaning forward to go through with kissing him at all.

But when you pulled away after pecking his lips, Luke surprised you by grabbing your chin and bringing you back.

He kissed you almost feverishly, as if he'd imagined this moment a million times before. You never thought that Luke would be the type of guy to kiss someone so rough but also delicately at the same time, but he was – and it confused you even more that he kissed that way with you.

But just as quickly as he pulled you in, you were pulling away – hyperaware of all the eyes on you. Luke's hand fell from your face as he sat back upright and let the game continue.

If he was as surprised by his actions as everyone else was, he went through the rest of the game – and the rest of the party – without showing it. And you went through the rest of the game never even noticing Luke's tightened jaw or his clenched fists when you kissed another person.

~

Luke's POV; One week later

"Luke!"

The blonde jumped at the loud yell, shaking his head quickly and finally coming back to reality. He found his frat brother giving him a concerned look – the same look he'd been given since the day of the party.

"You alright, mate?" Ashton asked, "You've been out of it for days now."

"It's nothing," he mumbled, looking back down at the half-eaten breakfast he'd been pushing around on his plate for the last 10 minutes now, "Everything's fine."

But he'd have been stupid to think that Ashton was going to buy that.

"This is about Y/N again, isn't it?" he called him out right away. Luke only sighed – it was obvious he was caught, so what was the point in trying to lie his way out of it? "Mate, why don't you just come clean to her?" Ashton sighed as well, "You haven't been able to stop thinking about her since...you know."

"Obviously she didn't feel anything I did," Luke mumbled, "Not that hard to tell if you ask me."

"Try explaining it then," he retorted, making his best friend look up at him. He gave the blonde a small nod as if to tell him to elaborate on how he was feeling and why he'd been acting the way he had lately.

So he did.

"It's like I don't exist anymore," Luke said softly, "I sit near her in class and she won't even pay any attention to me. Before, she used to look up and roll her eyes, but at least it was something – at least she acknowledged me being there. But she doesn't even flinch when I'm around now, even if I sit right beside her in an otherwise empty lecture hall."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she's still trying to process it all herself?" Ashton shook his head, "Luke, the poor girl has been convinced for years that you hate her, only to have you full-on make out with her at a frat party in front of a hundred people. She's not gonna figure out how she feels about that overnight."

"I know I fucked up," he admitted in a mumble, more to himself than to Ashton, "But I just want her to pretend she still notices me."

~

Your POV

"I can't even look at him anymore without feeling like I'm gonna throw up," you groaned, staring at the ceiling above you, "He always sits beside me in class now even when there are other spots available and I swear if it weren't for the other people in there, he'd be able to hear my heartbeat."

"Then tell him you like him!" Kaylee exclaimed as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

And truth be told, it was the obvious answer – you just weren't brave enough to do it.

"I can't, Kay," you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your hand on your face, "He'll just laugh at me."

"Why would he do that?"

"He hates me," you swallowed.

"Then why does he keep watching you and sitting near you and asking everyone else to make sure you're okay?" she sighed, coming over to the bed and sitting beside your elbow. You moved your hands to your forehead and barely opened your eyes to look at her – he's been asking about you...? – as she continued. "He wouldn't want to be around you so much if he still hated you, Y/N," she reminded you, "There's no reason for him to be going out of his way to sit by you during lectures or picking a table in the food court that just happens to have you in his line of sight. I know he's been a shithead to you in the past, but maybe that kiss changed things for him too; Maybe he's overthinking this just as much as you are."

~

Luke's POV; Later that evening

"You're sure this is gonna work?" Luke murmured, delicately fiddling with the four yellow dandelions he'd picked from the front yard of some random campus house on the way to yours.

"Luke, just trust me on this, okay?" Ashton sighed, "Now go over there." He gave his friend a nudge, prompting the blonde's legs to somehow take him over to where you were sitting on the porch of your sorority with your own friend.

Kaylee looked up from her notebook when she noticed movement coming toward the patio table, a smile instantly pulling at the corners of her mouth. You were sitting in the chair facing away from Luke, but he noticed you tilt your head in confusion and cut off what you'd been saying when you realized Kaylee was paying attention to something else.

But before you could turn to look over your shoulder and see what she was grinning at, Luke finally found his voice.

"Y/N..." he cleared his throat, noting the way your breathing quickened when you realized who it was, "Can I... Can I talk to you...?"

You opened your mouth but no sound came out – you were just frozen. Your eyes darted to the girl across from you, but she didn't offer much help either. Though, she did seem to have her shit together enough to speak.

"I just remembered I left something in Charlie's room!" Kaylee chirped, abruptly standing up from her seat, "Better go get it from her before class tomorrow! See you later, Y/N!" You barely noticed the grateful look Luke gave your best friend as she trotted away, but you definitely noticed the deep breath he took in and let out before he sat down in the chair she'd previously been sitting in.

It was silent between the two of you for a moment – Luke's mouth was opening and closing as if he were trying to make himself speak again, and you were just waiting to see exactly what he wanted. Although, you weren't sure you could have predicted it even if you'd tried.

"Uh... These are for you!" the sudden volume of his voice and his arm shooting toward you across the tabletop made you jump. You finally looked away from his face, noticing the dandelions he was offering.

"Thank you," you said shyly, your heart skipping a beat when your fingers barely brushed his to take the flowers he was holding out to you. Luke's own breathing hitched at the feeling of your skin on his, but he tried ignoring it.

Unfortunately though, you still saw it.

"Are you okay...?" you asked him, "You... You've been acting weird lately..."

"I... No, I haven't..." he insisted unconvincingly, "I-I've been acting normal..."

"Luke," you stated humorlessly, and he truly felt like he was going to pass out, "Yeah, you have. You... You're not-" You let out a small huff – why couldn't you put what you were thinking into words? "-You're not being so...you...to me anymore," you shook your head, "You're not being a dick every time you see me, and now you're-" You held up the tiny bouquet in your hand. "-giving me flowers? Something's different; I just can't figure out what it is."

"I think I'm in love with you," he suddenly blurted out the moment you stopped speaking, understandably now rendering you speechless.

Luke closed his eyes tightly – he did not mean to say that out loud – but what's done is done, and now he had to deal with that fact.

"Well, I mean... I've thought I was in love with you for a while, but..." he admitted, "I think... I knew I was in love with you when I kissed you..."

"Y-You're in love with me too?" you choked out without thinking, clearly seeing the way Luke lost his breath.

"Too?" he mumbled so lowly that you almost didn't hear it.

"You're not the only one you confused with that kiss, you know," you laughed shyly, looking down at the flowers in your hand.

"I didn't mean to," he sighed, "I just... I didn't think you'd actually kiss me – even if it was for some childish game – and I... You did and I didn't want you to stop, so I kissed you again..."

"I didn't want to stop either," you whispered.

"Then why did you?"

"It was a party, Luke," you laughed, "There were a bunch of people watching."

"Don't see people watching now, do you?" he asked bravely.

You eyed him for a moment with a small smirk before getting up from your seat and walking around the table. The surprise on his face was clear as you planted yourself on his lap, but he wasted absolutely no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you so you didn't slide off of him.

"No, I guess I don't," you said so quietly that he almost didn't even hear it. But before you could take a moment to appreciate the smile he gave you, he was already leaning forward and kissing you again.

You both sighed in relief – God only knows how many times you'd thought about this feeling after the first time. You felt Luke smile again when one of your arms rested on his shoulders and the other hand found its way to the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair.

The sound of your best friends' gasps made you both chuckle as you pulled away for air – of course they'd been eavesdropping. Your forehead landed on Luke's but neither of you opened your eyes yet, just wanting to take each other in.

"Don't look at them yet," you grinned again at the sounds of their quiet cheers between each other.

"Why not?" he smiled at the sound of your own.

"Because they'll come over here to say 'I told you so' and I'll have to stop kissing you to listen to it."

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" Luke smirked, feeling your grin get bigger when his lips hit yours again.

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master list / master list for mobile users

you can also check out my last imagine here, my to do list to see what’s coming up, and click here to go to the page for my calum fic :)

Other enemy AUs: Alex / Nash / Luke / Calum / Ashton / Ashton / Ashton / Ashton / Calum / Michael / Calum / Michael / Luke / Michael / Luke

Other frat boy AUs: Michael / Ashton / Luke (Blurb) / Calum (Blurb) / Luke / Calum / Michael / Ashton / Luke / Calum / Michael / Luke

Other college AUs: Ashton (Med Student) / Calum / Luke / Ashton / Michael / Luke

taglist: @calumhoodslays @vendylewin @lunalove25 @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @maurine5sos @rachellwrites​ @itkindajusthappenedreally @breathinginthevapor @double-tap-to-edit @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you​ @silverchainbee​ @disastrxlogy @kikixfandoms @5saucewho​ @mycollectionofnuts​ @sunnysidesblog @youngblood199456 @boxofteenageideas @newhopenessie @5-seconds-of-mendes

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

[patandpran]

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 11

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom’s finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training. What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince’s Squire?

Find the Masterpost here Read on Archiveofourown here.

“What is your name?”

The demanding question and the unfortunate reality that Tine had woken to a sword in his face left little room for discussion. Tine quickly looked at his assailant to evaluate the level of threat he was facing and saw the emblem of the King’s Guard displayed upon his attacker’s armour.

The Knight stood tall and proud and Tine could tell from their stance that they were well trained. He could not see their face as they wore a helmet but he could sense from their body language that it would not benefit him in any way to attempt to challenge them.

He glanced quickly down to see if the sword that his Father had made him was still within his reach but the Knight noticed this and shoved the sword so that it was pressed against Tine’s neck. He smelt the irony tang of his own blood pooling around the blade of the sword and winced slightly in pain at the contact.

“I am the Squire for the Prince.” Tine blurted out urgently, understanding the gravity of his situation. “Squire Tine.”

Immediately, the Knight drew back their sword and their entire body relaxed. They reached up to the front of their helmet and pulled it off in one swift motion. Tine had to fight to keep his composure when the person’s identity was revealed: Knight Fang.

Knight Fang was a fearsome opponent, both in hand to hand combat but also was highly skilled at Jousting. She was one of the only female Knights to ever make it through the training and was therefore quite revolutionary in her own right. She had paved the way for women to be taken seriously as prospective Knights and Tine was delighted to be in her presence.

Fang reached a hand out and Tine took it as she pulled him up to his feet. She looked quite unimpressed with him and she muttered, “So, you’re the dunce that everyone is scouring the forest for. The Prince returned to camp in quite a state and sent out an entire fleet of the best Knights to find you. No surprise that I am the one who actually successful in the mission.”

Tine felt a wave of guilt roll through him but made a point of keeping his face neutral. He suddenly became hyperaware of his lips and brought his hand up to brush them lightly. It was hard to believe that only hours ago the Prince had been kissing him and now he had to pretend like nothing had happened.

Fang gave him a suspicious look and she cocked her head to the side, “Are you sure you are Squire Tine? The Prince described you as having a level head but I don’t think you really live up to that description…”

“Yes, I am Squire Tine, I’m just…. out of sorts. I hit my head.” Tine muttered lamely and was quite disappointed in how his first interaction with such a prolific Knight was going.

“That must be why you got lost.” Fang nodded slowly as if she were piecing together some sort of mystery. “The Prince said that after he killed the boar, he sent you to retrieve it and you never came back. You must have become concussed during the retrieval process and wandered away… Anyway, I am just glad to have found you before something worse happened. I don’t know what the Prince would have done if you turned up dead.”

The thought was so morbid that Tine felt his stomach lurch. He doubled forward in reaction and Fang caught him easily and began to guide him toward her horse. “Oh my, Squire, you really are in a terrible way. Looks like you might not be able to remain for the rest of the Training retreat.”

The idea of being able to return to the Kingdom and not have to face Sarawat was exactly what Tine needed. He decided to lean into the facade of illness and pretended to suddenly lose his balance due to faintness to really sell the story. Fang caught him easily and helped him onto the back of the horse. “I think I need to get you back to the castle, Tine. You need urgent medical care.”

As much as Tine loathed the notion of lying, he knew that this was the best possible scenario for he and Sarawat. The Prince could finish his week of training without Tine as there were always extra Squires on hand and Tine could use the time away from the Prince to get his head back on straight about his mission and duty to his family.

Tine’s heart wanted to find Sarawat and fall into his arms again but his head told him to get as far from the Prince as possible.

++++++++++++

“What do you mean that Knight Fang took him back to the Kingdom?”

Mil watched as Sarawat yelled at the messenger who had brought news about Tine’s whereabouts. As much as Mil hated seeing his friend in distress, he thought that this was the best news he had heard in a long time. Sarawat was much too dependant on the Squire that he had known for such a short time. Mil was sure that Tine served as much of a detriment to Sarawat’s training than a service. Mil was happy to see Tine gone.

The Prince stormed off in the opposite direction, muttering out a string of curses as he disappeared into his tent. The excitement of the morning’s judging of the Night Hunt had been ruined by the impromptu search for the Prince’s Squire but now that it was over, it was sure to be a quick evaluation of who the winner was.

Trainer Dim walked along the row of game that the Knights had returned with and pointed at the biggest kill. It was, of course, Lord Mil’s and everyone groaned when Dim announced him as the winner. Mil kept his gaze neutral as people half-heartedly congratulated him.

Once many of the Knights had returned to their tents to sleep off the intense night, Ohm cleared his throat and murmured, “They’re just envious, my Lord. You worked tirelessly for this win.”

Mil face his Squired and shrugged, “Do not worry, Ohm, I am used to this kind of reaction. If I made a point of lessening my skills every once in a while, I would likely have many more friends but I am not willing to do that to just win some more of my peer’s favour.”

Ohm nodded in understanding before directing his gaze across the camp, “You know, Prince Phukong does not look like he slept a wink last night. Why don’t you go inquire on his wellbeing?”

Mil followed Ohm’s line of sight to see that the younger Prince was looking quite dishevelled from his usual put together self and he clearly had dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. Mil felt a pang of guilt bubble up in his chest at the Prince’s current condition. It was meant to be his duty to ensure that the Prince was well but due to his rash decision to leave him behind, Phukong must have decided to remain awake until Mil returned in some sort of act of rebellion.

“What is he trying to prove?” Mil muttered, shaking his head in confusion.

“I doubt he’s trying to prove anything other than his dedication to you.” Ohm evaluated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mil felt a thin layer of sweat break out across his forehead. How could others sees things so clearly when he struggled to navigate such interactions? Mil was not a complete idiot - he recognized on some level that Phukong held some affection for him but he did not realize to what degree that affection stretched.

Instead of responding to his Squire’s thoughts, Mil strolled across the campsite, trying to remain as calm as possible. He took the back of his hand and swiped it across his forehead to get rid of his nervous sweat as he approached the Prince and took a knee in front of the Prince and bowed his head.

“My Prince, I apologize for my actions this past evening.” Mil shared, his gaze on the forest floor.  “I should not have underestimated you and I hope that you forgive me for that. I am sure you would have been an asset on the Hunt.”

Phukong chuckled lightly which made Mil relax somewhat. He looked up at the Prince and, as always, Phukong regarded him with honest and open kindness. “I doubt that I would have done anything but distract you but I do appreciate the apology, my Lord. It is good to know I am more than a secondary thought to you.”

Phukong was sitting on a low log which was a sight in itself, to see a member of the Royal Family looking so casual. It made Phukong that much more endearing. Mil sighed in relief as he took a seat next to the Prince. “I will be completely honest…I also worried for your safety, My Prince.”

Mil could see out of his periphery that this caused a blush to stretch across the bridge of Phukong’s lovely nose. Mil could not help but find the younger Prince beautiful. When Sarawat was fiercely handsome to a point where it scared most people away, Phukong’s beauty was understated and made him approachable. Whenever Mil was in Phukong’s vicinity, he could feel part of him unfurl and truly relax. He realized he needed more of that in his life so he made a promise to himself to find more opportunities to be around Phukong.

“You need not worry about me.” Phukong explained. “I hope that you will be able to focus on your training and not put too much thought into my presence. The last thing I want to be is a distraction from your work. While I do admit I took last night’s exchange a bit personally, it took me thinking through it all night to realize that the most important thing for you right now is your Knighthood. Please focus on that and do not think too much about me.”

“I can’t help but think about you.” Mil blurted out before realizing the weight that the words held.

Phukong’s eyes widened slightly at the Lord’s words but he tried not to read too much into them. He had been let down so many times by chalking small acts of kindness and attention from Mil to actual affection. Phukong had to keep himself focused on the kinship with Mil rather than giving into the ridiculous fantasy of a relationship that he dreamed about having with the Lord.

“You should sleep, Mil.” Phukong dropped his gaze to the hands folded neatly in his lap. “You have quite an intense few days ahead of you.”

Mil didn’t want to leave the Prince but he knew that they both needed rest and Phukong would not even attempt to fall asleep before Mil went to his tent. Mil nodded curtly, “I will see you later this evening, then, for the feast.”

Phukong hummed a departing greeting before Mil pushed himself to a standing position. Mil murmured, “Sleep well, My Prince.”

As he watched Mil walk away, Phukong could not help but feel a small spark of possibility bloom in his chest. He was not sure what had changed between them in the last weeks but Mil seemed to be regarding him as less of a nuisance and much more of someone he genuinely thought he shared a kinship with.

Phukong felt the exhaustion settle over him as Mil ducked into his own tent. The Prince was sure he would be fine to sleep right then and there but he knew that the attendants would not allow such a thing, so he, too, headed to his own tent to fall into a well-deserved slumber, hoping he might have dreams of a certain Lord…

+++++++++++

Tine spent many days in the castle’s infirmary, putting on the best illness act of his life. It truly made him wonder if he should have become an actor instead of a Squire. The alternate career choice might not have been favourable in his family’s eyes but at least it would have meant that he would never been forced to interact with Sarawat.

As much as he tried to get the thought out his head, the feeling of being kissed by the Prince kept replaying on a torturous loop. The memory of the pressure of Sarawat’s lips pressed against his was enough to send Tine into a frenzy. Thankfully, the nurses saw this as part of his symptoms of his concussion and would rush over with a cold cloth to mop his forehead every time he would have an ‘episode’.

On his second day in the infirmary, Fong finally was able to steal a moment away from his duties to visit Tine and Tine was eternally thankful to see a friendly face after all he had been through. Fong hovered at the end of the bed and looked at Tine sympathetically, “Oh, my poor friend. How are you fairing?”

It seemed like lovesickness carried the same symptoms as a regular ailment as Tine seemed to be fooling even those that were closest to him. He shook his head slowly, “I am doing better every hour. I should be back on my feet soon enough.”

“That must have been quite the collision.” Fong expressed, smirking slightly before his face got serious. “I hope that Ohm has not been forced to face the same kind of atrocities… he’s not quite as resilient as you are.”

“I find it funny that you are coming to visit me, only to inquire about my best friend instead…” Tine chuckled in amusement. “You both are quite smitten with one another, aren’t you?”

Fong looked around anxiously to see if anyone was close enough to overhear. He leaned in before muttering, “Sorry. I just can’t help but worry…”

Tine knew the feeling of worrying about someone you care about when you had no control over their wellbeing. The worst part of leaving Sarawat’s side was knowing that he was not going to be there to protect the Prince for the rest of the time that he was beyond the castle walls. The guilt that weighed down on Tine’s shoulders was immense but his commitment to his family was what lifted him out of that same funk.

“I understand.” Tine responded. “Ohm is luck to have someone who cares so much for him.”

Fong blushed fiercely before giving Tine’s foot that was exposed at the end of the bed a playful flick. “I should take my leave back to my duties. I will try my best to come visit tomorrow.”

“You are a good friend, Fong.” Tine remarked which just made Fong’s blush a deeper shade of red before he started to make his way toward the door of the Infirmary.

“Oh!” Fong caught himself just as he was about to leave the room. He pulled a small scroll from his pocket before walking back toward Tine’s bed and passing it off to him. “Since you were injured, your family was notified of your condition and was allowed to send one message to you. It’s an exception to the Kingdom’s communication block that is believed to help the patient recover quicker.”

“Thank you, Fong.” Tine murmured as he cradled the precious message in his hand and wondered which family member had scribed it. Fong gave Tine a small nod before leaving Tine to read the message on his own.  

Tine felt his chest clench with worry about the contents of the letter. His family would not dare put anything that would compromise his position or give any hint of their feelings toward the Royal Family, knowing that the message would likely be read by at least someone to deem it appropriate before it was passed off to Tine, unlike the message that he had received from Sir Man.

The message read:

Tine,

We heard of your accident during your training retreat. We are sorry that you were not able to fulfill your commitments to the Prince as his Squire and equally sorry that you are to missing on out on such an adventure. However, we are relieved to hear that you are making a swift recovery and will likely return to your position as soon as you possibly can. We want to extend our deepest wishes of good fortune for the next coming weeks as the Knights in Training approach their own Trials. We have also heard that the Prince will announce the identity of the luck individual that will become his betrothed - how exciting! Of course, I am getting a bit off topic. Your Father has been able to return to his work and your brother has had quite an influx of new customers which has been very helpful as well. We love you dearly and know that you will continue to make us proud.

Always thinking of you,

Your Mother

Tine was somewhat relieved to read his Mother’s words as opposed to his Father’s. He appreciated that her message was warm and to the point and reminded him of what it felt like to be held safe in her arms. He knew their was no hidden meaning behind the words and it was rather refreshing to hear from his family without the reminder of what it mean to be a Teepakorn.

He tucked the scroll into his stockings for safekeeping before falling into a fitful sleep.

+++++++++

Over the next few days, Sarawat considered taking an unexcused leave from the training camp to search out Tine but he knew if he even tried to breach the castle walls before he was meant to return, his Father would have his head for deserting his training.

He tried his best to focus during the training and survival exercises but it became increasingly difficult to keep up his facade of focus when his every thought was consumed about Tine’s wellbeing. Knight Fang had returned to the camp and only shrugged in apathy when Sarawat inquired about Tine. He knew it wasn’t wise to cross a Knight higher in station then he was, especially considering she was a part of his Father’s favourites but he quietly cursed her decision to allow Tine to return to the Kingdom.

Man and Boss tried to keep Sarawat’s spirits up with their usual antics but Sarawat found no humour in their ridiculousness. Mil attempted to motivate the Prince by challenging him to a Midnight scrimmage but Sarawat did not bother to show which disappointed the Lord greatly. Even Phukong tried to distract his brother by sketching him in his armour but all Sarawat could muster up was a half-hearted ‘thank you’ despite how detailed the drawings were.

Trainer Dim had no patience for Sarawat’s lack of commitment and even went so far as punishing him with one evening of sleeping out in the pouring rain which Sarawat did without a complaint. Mil joined Sarawat halfway through the night to show his solidarity to his friend and endured the wrath that came his way from Trainer Dim the next morning.

The remainder of the trip went by slower than Sarawat could possibly have imagined and every second away from Tine felt like torture. There was also the added factor of not knowing exactly where his Squire was at with what had transpired between the two of them. Sarawat was worried that upon his return, Tine would act as if nothing had ever happened and the thought wounded Sarawat deeper than any sword could.

The final challenge of the week was rumoured to be the most difficult yet and Sarawat was reluctant to even participate without Tine at his side. All week there had been Squires stepping into Tine’s position but none of them shared the skill, patience and power that Tine had, although Sarawat would be the last to admit he was a harsh critic.

The Knights in Training and Squires all gathered before Trainer Dim at a cliff’s edge the last morning of the trip. Sarawat had never been fond of heights and the idea of going over the side of the cliff made him sick to his stomach. He was sure with Tine at his side he would feel a bit more confident but right now he was downright terrified.

“I am sure you can all guess what your last feat will be.” Trainer Dim grinned devilishly and clapped his leather gloves together in anticipation. He surveyed the crowd of varying reaction before gesturing grandly toward the edge. “You will need to somehow make your way to the ground. The only rule is that you must go over, not around. First one to the bottom will be able to choose which opponent that they will face during the hand to hand combat challenge of the Final Trials. And… go!”

Every Knight sprung into action. Man and Boss began to work together on some sort of pulley system that involved a tree while some of the bolder Knights started to free climb the descent. Sarawat’s head began to spin and he remained frozen in place, daunted completely by the task set before them.

The only thought that played in head was: What would Tine do?

Tine would have a clever plan that would somehow help with Sarawat’s fear of heights and be efficient at the same time. Unfortunately, Sarawat’s brain did not work that way so he remained rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do next.

“Here, brother. This will help.”

Before he could register what Phukong was doing, Sarawat’s eyesight was cloaked in darkness. He felt himself being pushed toward the edge of the cliff and he heard the whizzing of an arrow fly right past his left ear. He was too in shock to fight back and suddenly something was being tied around his waist before Phukong gave him a shove forward.

Sarawat went over the side of the cliff and felt himself free-falling. He did not even have the time to scream before he stopped midair. A moment later, someone had a hand on the rope and was pulling him closer and demanding, “Hold onto my back, you scaredy cat. You owe me one for this.”

The Prince was relieved to hear Mil’s voice. It seemed as if in the time that Sarawat had spent panicking, Phukong and Mil had orchestrated a plan to get him to the ground which involved Mil free climbing down and sending an arrow back up with a rope attached when he felt confident enough in his climbing to carry the extra weight of Sarawat.

As embarrassing as it was, Sarawat didn’t bother to object to the plan and did as he told, wrapping his arms and legs around Mil’s torso. Even though Mil was shorter than he was, Mil was deceivingly strong. Sarawat was thankful for the blindfold as well as it meant that he did not have to see how far they still were from the ground.

“T-thank you.” Sarawat managed to get out despite his tone wavering in fear.

“Don’t worry, Wat, I’ll get you down in one piece. I remember how long you spent up in that tree when I dared you to climb it when we were just children.” Mil teased as he continued to climb down.

Sarawat remembered how much effort it had taken to get him down from the tree and how much wrath Mil had endured from his Father when he found out it was Mil who had suggested it in the first place.

Before he could utter a response, Mil’s feet hit the ground and the Lord lowered himself slightly so Sarawat could scramble off of his back. He tore off the blindfold and wished he could hug Mil right then and there but he knew that would not look good when they would be facing off as opponents in a few week’s time.

Sarawat was shocked to find that they were the first two to have made it to the ground but Mil looked unsurprised by the matter. Trainer Dim and his lackeys approached them, looking somewhat disappointed at how quickly they had accomplished the task.

“Are you sure you aren’t a wizard, Lord Mil?” Dim questioned, looking highly suspicious about the matter. “I am not sure who to give the reward to…”

“Trainer Dim, Lord Mil helped me the whole way down.” Sarawat blurted out without a second thought. “He deserves the reward more than anyone else for his selflessness alone.”

A look of slight embarrassment danced across Mil’s face and Trainer Dim sighed, “All right. Unsurprisingly, Mil wins again. Let me know whenever you have made your decision about who you will face.”

Sarawat watched as Trainer Dim and his followers walked off, Dim muttering to himself. Sir Man and Sir Boss came running over to congratulate Mil and Phukong had somehow made his way down, his eyes wide with admiration when he looked at Mil.

In that moment, Sarawat realized that even if there was some awful version of the future where Tine was not at his side, he was still surrounded by those who cared for him. The thought of walking through life without Tine was not a pleasant one but at least Sarawat knew now that, if forced to, he could survive in a world without Tine.

[greenhanded-redthumbed]

Just A Small Town Boy

Clark grew up with his parents telling him how he fell from the sky. He wouldn’t believe them if it hadn’t been for the other things: that he’s strong enough to lift a tractor, that he can start a fire a hundred metres away with just his eyes, that he can fly. They tell him that he’s a miracle child: a gift. And that everything he can do just makes him more perfect, even if they have to hide them away for now. 

Not yet, they insist, they’re not ready for you yet. 

He accepts it, practicing to control his powers at night in the field next to their house. He wades through the wheat stalks that rise to his shoulders and is careful not to face anything important (he’d accidentally demolished far too many walls growing up, and even though his parents were more than happy to keep up with the continuous renovations, he still tries his best to keep everything in one piece). He learns to avoid certain bright lights that bring about a burning in the back of his eyes, to keep headphones with him for when his hearing runs rampant picking up anything said for miles and to always have an elastic around his wrist to keep him present and remind him to use human strength rather than super strength. (The Kents have an entire draw devoted to the elastics and other such trinkets ready for them to give way).

Clark’s gotten better at controlling his powers over the years, with the reports of alien sightings around Smallville dropping as he gets older. But he can’t stay forever.

He loves his parents dearly - loves the farm too, it’s the only home he’s ever known. And as much as he’d love to stay here, he can’t. He can do things no one else can, he can help people no one else can. But there’s not that many people in Smallville, and not much to save them from.

So he leaves, heads to the big city to pursue a career in journalism (because how else is he going to know who’s in trouble). Clark considers working with the police, but a quick read of the papers tells him of the high levels of corruption - all of them probably aren’t bad, but Clark has never been good at reading people and thinks he’s better safe than sorry.

His spotless record, good grades and glowing letters from his high school teachers is enough to land him an internship at one of the bigger newspapers in the city. The Daily Planet.

Clark turns up for his first day bright eyed, watching the chattering reporters move around the cubicles on the office floor - some darting forward with bundles of papers in their arms as they reach a breakthrough while others meander slowly and chatter greetings to their coworkers.

He doesn’t know what he expected - certainly not his own office and free reign, but maybe something more than cramped square metre cubicle with a desk crammed in (the walls of the cubicle barely reach his ears so the full-time, seasoned journalists can see if there’s someone to make coffee for them). 

Occasionally, someone drops off a list of some kind for him to grab files on:

“I need the profit margins of these companies on my desk by six”

“Can you get the M.P.D crime stats to me by this afternoon?”

“I want you to pull up all our previous stories on the mayor and check what our bias is.”

It’s not exactly saving anyone, but it’s a foothold as a journalist. He’ll get there. 

And he does - after a few months or so of perfecting his coffee-making skills and navigating the achingly slow computer he’s been given, a file is dropped unceremoniously into his cubicle. Clark pulls the headphones from his ears, letting the office chatter settle around him and turns to see one of the reporters looking down at him. The dark-skinned man would be shorter than him if he was standing, bulky and dressed in a neat, navy suit - Clark recognises him instantly as one of the more senior reporters.

“What do you need Mr. White?” Clark asks, one hand moving to fiddle nervously at the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s the latest manifestation of his fiddling - he doesn’t have his parents stockpile of rubber bands and always seems to lose them in the mess of his tiny desk. 

Mr. White, Perry as Clark recalls, “I want you to write this report. Twelve lines. Puff piece: local orphanage.” 

“Write a- write a report?” Clark stutters, surprised it’s not just another files request.

“Yes, Kent,” Perry White says slowly and Clark jumps at his own name, “You do want to be a reporter, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, of course,” Clark stammers, pulling the paper-thin file closer, “I’ll get on this right away, sir.”

“I’m not ‘sir’, Kent. Not yet anyway,” Perry says turning away. He calls back, “On my desk, tomorrow at five.” Clark’s too nervous to remember he doesn’t know which desk is Perry’s. He supposes he’ll just have to work it out when he comes to it.

As he goes to open the file, he notices a face watching him over the cubicle divider. A fellow intern, with long black hair and pale blue eyes that make her features seem sharper. Colder. Like she could open her mouth and freeze him to the core.

“Um, hi?” he starts, “We haven’t met, I’m Clark-”

She cuts him off. “A newbie.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. She’s not wrong or particularly rude. Just matter-of-fact in a way his southern hospitality hadn’t prepared him for. 

“Yes, a newbie-” He replies with a grin. She cuts him off again by picking up the file from Perry and flipping it open. 

“What are you doing?” Clark questions, hoping he’s not going to end up in a fist fight with a fellow intern for this story. 

“Just checking this out, don’t worry,” she mumbles preoccupied scanning through the loose sheets, “I’m making sure the big dogs aren’t screwing me over.”

She looks up at him and her face briefly contorts into a smile - not a warm one, a happy one. A cold, practiced greeting to show no harm done, a I don’t mean to be a weirdo going through your files I’m actually a rational and normal person kind of smile. “But Perry’s right, this is a bludge.”

“Okay?” Clark replies, honestly confused by the whole interaction more than anything, “Well, it was nice meeting you Ms…”

“Lane,” she answers him, “Lois Lane, the top intern. That’s not an official term, but it’s the truth.”

He offers her a smile and a nod before turning his attention back to the file that has once again been dropped on his desk. It’s only two loose sheets, almost no info and a basic piece. But at least it’s him who’ll be writing it. One step at a time.

(When it’s printed in the lower corner of page twelve two days later, he cuts it out and sends it back home to Kansas. Ma and Pa are deliriously proud and request copies of all future articles. He doesn’t find out until Christmas that they’ve turned one of their walls into a display for his published pieces.)

Three weeks after his first article, a new intern moves into the cubicle next to him. (Ms Lane’s now one of the people bringing bludge stories and requests to his desk. She must have been right about being top intern). The new intern, Ms Lang, is a city girl. Born and raised in Metropolis. But she has a warmth that reminds him of home. Warm brown skin and wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes that seem to shine when she smiles.

He’s more than a bit enraptured. 

She leans over half way through her first day to talk to him. “So, how long have you been an intern here?”

He grins back and the office fluorescents suddenly shift to the warm summer sun reflected off the wheat fields. “Almost five months now.” 

“Huh, good to know,” she replies and he notices her nails are painted the same shade of pink as her dress. 

“Why’s that?” he asks before she can disappear back into her cubicle.

“Because on my tour round here I heard you were the new top intern. And I want to get there faster than you.” Then she’s gone, back to becoming the hardest working journalist of Metropolis.

It took Clark a moment to let her words sink in. He knew the Daily Planet requires journalists to show their replacements around. He cranes his head over the wall of his cubicle and catches sight of Ms Lane on the other side of the floor. She’s arguing with a colleague over something or other and doesn’t so much as glance at him. It’s kind of surprising that she thinks so highly of him. It’s also kind of the best.

It’s around this time he makes his first appearance as superman. He puts on the suit his father left him (the one Pa and Ma kept for him until he turned sixteen) and sets out to help people. It’s strange, giving in to the sounds and sights and smells he’s been blocking out all his life. He can hear the whole city buzzing beneath him as he floats above it, tuning in and out of conversations like a radio.

He decides to start small - he picks cats out of trees, clears trees off of roads and flies the dying to the hospital at super speed. An alien in primary colours zipping around the city catches the attention of the Daily Planet pretty quickly. He reads the article one of the reporters, Mr John Corben, writes on him and is happy to see it’s mostly good (wary, but still praising his actions).

Clark steps up his attempts at heroism - he now shows up to confront active shooters and floats above witnesses for particularly nasty cases. Praise starts getting thrown his way, with t-shirts and fan-blogs. They treat him like a celebrity.

Then his first supervillain arrives. He calls himself the Ultra-humanite and the papers obligingly print it in their headlands ‘Superman vs Ultra-humanite: Shocking Defeat for the Man of Steel’. The Ultra-humanite - Clark doesn’t even know his real name - isn’t like the regular street thugs and gun-wielding cowards. He can’t match Clark physically, so he does it mentally. He outsmarts Clark at every turn with automations and traps and a thousand other misdirections. 

The Ultra-humanite also introduces Clark to a new weakness: a small, almost fluorescent green rock he calls Kryptonite. It leaves him weak and dizzy. All the hyperawareness sinking away as the world dulls and blurs. He can safely say he doesn’t like it.

It dawns on him that he’ll need help. So he turns to the person he thinks he can trust. 

“Right,” Lana says slowly as he hovers in front of her, work shirt unbuttoned to show his famous emblem, “So you’re the superman with the superpowers who wants help taking down a supervillain. Super.” 

“You don’t have to be apart of the fighting or anything,” he assures her, “I just need a plan or something to get the upper hand on him.”

They’re on the roof of the Daily Planet. It’s the only place he could think of that wouldn’t have security cameras or be too suspicious to visit. Enough people still smoke to make it an acceptable break spot.

“You want me to outsmart a supervillain. Outsmart a supersmart evil genius supervillain.”

“Or help, just offer any insight,” Clark says, bringing himself back to the floor and doing up his shirt. That seems to calm Lana down, and she tilts her head slightly, gazing dazedly out at the horizon

It takes her a minute, but when she looks at him again he knows he made the right decision to come to her. “So he’s found ways to outsmart all your super powers.” Lana starts slowly, “Because he studied Superman.”

“I guess so,” Clark says.

“So,” Lana continues, “Use your abilities as Clark Kent. The ones he doesn’t know about. Track him down in his lair like a reporter - with paper trails and good old investigation.”

He does, tracks down all the stores that sell the fancy equipment the Ultra-humanite - a man, Clark learns through his investigation, who is called by the far-less threatening name of Gerard Shugel - and traces the sales back to accounts and addresses. 

He finds Shugel’s lair, crashing in dressed in full Superman regalia to see that very man tinkering on his next trap. It’s easy for Clark to apprehend him on his own turf. Just carrying him to the police station and leaving his address for them to search through. Clark was raised to believe that everything gets easier with practice, so he knows he’ll be ready for the next supervillain to threaten his city. And he knows he has someone to turn to when he gets out of his depth. 

 After a year of intern work, Clark finally gets a position as a full-blooded journalist. (Investigative, which is the same department as Ms. Lane. There are some whispers going around that two newbies handling a department is risky business, but those are shut down by an icy blue glare.)

They work side by side in matching offices, with Clark dibsing the police corruption case. (Which Ms. Lane thinks is undignified but lets him have it so she can keep working on her inquiring into the company practices of one of Metropolis’ largest businesses. Something called Lexcorp.)

Lana inherits the role of top intern, a placement which Clark confidently informs his replacement of. He knows it’s not long until she’s on the detective side of the office and looks forward to it.

He knows that the people are ready for him now. And more importantly, he’s ready for them.

[astrologanize]

scorpio ascendant: i’ve already seen the way this plays out, nothing is ever enough [<|>] hyperawareness to the point of leaving themselves unimpressed, chooses situations where they can foresee and/or manipulate the outcome, if i stay in the know i won’t be left in the dark again, welcomes realism to the point of seeking out & fostering grievances that will force them into positions of reformation, won’t accept anything that doesn’t come at a price - would rather take the high road, complicates life due to an unwillingness to relinquish control and let it unfold 

scorpio sun: i will become what i hate before life forces it upon me, i decide [<|>] believes if they forge themselves as this unpleasant/ignoble being that they will avoid further rejection and blame, takes control only to be the cause of the mayhem, if i hide behind enough false impressions maybe they’ll see something more worthy than all that i am, prides themselves on their recklessness and ‘rawness’ but will not accept the consequences that follow as their own doing, purposefully goes too far to see how far they can go so as to fulfill a sense of invincibility that will defy a continuous perception of being prohibited and on edge of their fears 

scorpio moon: nobody understands what lies within me, how the pain builds and builds, when does the pain cease and why won’t the good last? when will my life change for the better? [<|>] won’t confront or let go of their pain in fear of what will be left, craves to but refuses to share and instead leaves stains from a place of defensiveness, would rather they dwell in chaos - continuously fighting their shadows blind than look them in the eye, paranoid of loss of control and being without to the point of holding onto every little thing or cuts it off prematurely to prevent attachment, believes they are cursed and expects the worst at every corner, feels they are protecting themselves from making further mistakes if they aim low

scorpio mercury: i’m always having to explain myself [<|>] communicates only what they want you to know/what they’re willing to express, can hide behind an exaggerated cynicism/candidness or blatantly lie/omit details to protect their own narrative, deflects attention from themselves by focusing on the truth (lies) of others, chooses their words to penetrate and cause a conversation but do not care to stick around for it or deal with the aftermath, they can also play it small and speak in a manner that compels you to undermine what they know or alludes transparency so that they have the upper hand/you’re more willing to entrust them with information, feels vulnerable admitting their truth/mistakes and can hide behind the excuse that what they said was misread or misinterpreted 

scorpio venus: the love i give will never be received back [<|>] finds beauty in sorrow and romanticizes the unattainable, can seek out relationships in life that allow them to be in control to ease their insecurities/fear of hurt and rejection or give themselves away to be at the mercy of another out of fear of being alone/severe feelings of unworthiness/the idea that love is all-consuming; either way love is seen in an extremely unbalanced lens where one holds the power, repels love and admires from afar or is quick to consummate a relationship as proclamation to it being theirs, can suffocate their lover from a place of possession or give all their love away to someone who will not handle it with care because pain and endurance of hardship is valued as a testament of “real” love, assumes others view them as inferior/unapproachable or views others as incapable of handling them and can overcompensate through a commanding presence that can become standoffish, or simply ostracizes themselves before anyone else has the chance to, tests the loyalties of their relationships with unstable behavior, can hide their true selves from others and wonder why they never felt loved for who they are or show their true self eventually only for others to appropriately respond with confusion/doubt, misconstrue physical affection as the sole proponent to achieving intimacy 

scorpio mars: i’m always made out to be the bad guy [<|>] does not feel they should be obligated to explain their actions even when others are involved but expects the opposite of everyone else, wants their actions to speak for themselves but also want others to read between the lines and are at a loss when people draw their own conclusions, places themselves in conflict unrelated to themselves and makes it their business, prefers to stay silent/vague with their moves and will not readily reveal their intentions but strongly insinuates to whatever will give them their desired result, life struggles are deeply personal and exhibiting a side that does not align with their usual MO/the image they have control over is distressing, can minimize the role they played in conflicts and resort to denial when confronted, apologizing/admittance is seen as surrendering to another’s will, can exploit others/a situation for their own gain and justify it as a mindset of survival of the fittest/that it was inevitable, a combo of playing off the severity of certain factors in their life (downplay what something/someone really means to protect themselves), assuming others will maintain strict loyalty to them, and failing to communicate properly leave them feeling easily betrayed 

[inkslingerharry]

Reindeer on the Roof?

Description: Y/N lives above Harry and loves to blast Christmas music. What happens when Harry marches upstairs to confront her, but finds himself highly intrigued?

Word count: 2,145

This is technically Day 6 of the 25 Days of Christmas.

Thank you so much to @alwaysjacked-up for doing this Christmas writing event!!  Thank you for letting me be a part of it!! Check out the rest of the authors and the 25 Days of Christmas masterlist here and my other writing here. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

(I also wrote this in a little over an hour with very little editing so please be kind lol)

Six days. Six days in a row that the person living above Harry has been blasting Christmas music. He’s listened to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and “All I Want for Christmas Is You” about a million times in the past week alone. He was already on edge because he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas this year with flights being cancelled and plans just not working out.

He wasn’t fully against Christmas music; in fact, he loved Christmas music. Just not blasting loud enough to hear above his apartment. Someone was a little too into their Christmas cheer. Harry groaned when “Let It Snow” started again. The person didn’t even have the decency to switch playlists, a crime Harry could not forgive.

As he tried finishing another last-minute email, Harry typed away, closing his eyes in frustration when all he could focus on was the laughter and tunes coming from above.

“That’s it,” he grumbled to himself, closing his laptop with too much force, slipping on some tennis shoes and grabbing his phone and keys. He stepped out of his apartment, locking his place briskly before walking to the staircase.

Just as he was about to ascend, he stopped with one foot on the first stair. Silence. The only sound was his breathing and a door faintly closing in the distance. He cherished the moment, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a few seconds before hearing a cough behind him.

“Oh, sorry,” he muttered, stepping out of the way of an older man carrying a few grocery bags.

Harry waited a few more quick seconds before continuing on his journey. He started a script of what he was going to say to the noisy neighbor. As he walked a little ways down the hallway, he hesitated in front of the door where the music was coming from. “Frosty the Snowman” was heard throughout the entire hallway.

Harry could also hear people singing inside. He instantly felt guilt swarm through him. These people were having fun and enjoying themselves and he was about to ruin that because he needed to write a few emails.

Important emails, Harry thought to himself. He raised his hand and brought a knuckle to the door, hitting it a few times. The music didn’t falter, and the laughter didn’t die down. After waiting a few seconds, Harry rolled his eyes and brought his fist up, giving a few harder knocks. Again, nothing seemed to change.

Just as he was about to bring his fist up again, anger evident in his actions, the door swung open, revealing a woman in one of the ugliest sweaters Harry has ever seen. With lights and bells, the horrendous green and red sweater hung around the body of the woman standing in front of him. She hesitated, eyeing Harry.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be rude, but-” Harry started, but was soon interrupted by the woman’s face lighting up, a smile wide on her face and her eyebrows raised.

“You must be the judge! Come in, come in!” she reached forward, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him inside her apartment. “We’ve been waiting for you. I thought Marco told you to be here at six? Ah, whatever, we’ve busied ourselves. You’re not very festive are you?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed.

“It’s an ugly sweater party!” She laughed, looking at his attire. “Oh well. We have white wine, which is almost gone, some red wine, and I might have a few beers in the fridge. What do you want?”

Harry couldn’t speak. How could he? He was just about to scold this woman for playing Christmas music loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear, now he’s in her apartment and she’s offering him a drink? What went wrong?

She noticed Harry’s hesitance. “I’ll get you a water. Everyone else is in the living room, so find a place to sit!” she ordered, leaving his side to head to the kitchen.

Harry watched as she left, his feet carrying him throughout her apartment. Every surface seemed to be covered in pictures of, what he assumed, her friends and family. There were a couple frames filled with her holding dogs, children, or other people. She was smiling or making a funny face in every single one.

By the time he made it to the living room, Harry had skimmed over every wall in sight. He looked at the four other people in the living room. Their faces were flushed with laughter and wine. Two people sat on the floor in front of a coffee table, and the other two sat on a couch. Everyone clearly drank their fair share of wine.

“Oh, the judge is here! What’s your name again?” a woman sitting on the couch asked, lifting her wine glass to her lips.

“Uh, Harry,” he responded.

“Great! Take a seat in this chair! We’re going to start soon, once Y/N gets back.”

“Y/N?”

“You know, the girl who owns the place?” she laughed.

Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded. He made his way to the recliner, having to step over a bottle of wine and a few hand-made, paper snowflakes on the way. Harry sat, glancing around the room. More pictures of Y/N crowded their way into the space around him. He noticed that a lot of the pictures held the faces of the same people who sat in front of him.

“You don’t look familiar,” a guy sitting on the floor giggled. He was very clearly the most drunk.

“Marco! He’s the judge you picked out.”

“Hm, don’t think so. I wouldn’t pick him out, not for the judge anyway. Maybe for something else,” Marco winked at Harry, causing a deep red to creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. He also gave a small smile.

“Marco, stop flirting, now hand out the paints,” Y/N playfully snapped, handing the glass of water in her hand to Harry. He graciously accepted it, taking a big gulp right away to soothe his dry throat.

“What am I judging, exactly?” Harry asked, wiping the condensation from the water onto his pants.

“We’re following a Bob Ross painting tutorial,” Y/N answered, accepting a basket of paint tubes from Marco. “He really didn’t tell you anything, huh?”

Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. He watched as each person readied their canvas and paint brushes. The television next to him started up, a Bob Ross episode already waiting on Netflix.

The episode started, each person suddenly extremely focused, their paint brushes swishing to and fro. Harry watched intently, his attention specifically focusing on Y/N. She furrowed her eyebrows and flicked her wrist just right as her eyes stayed on the television. The faint lights from her sweater gave her chin and cheeks a light red tint, her double chin showing up once in a while when she was confused.

By the end of the episode, Harry had memorized her face. He felt like he could recognize her just by her eyes. Her face was like a map, and Harry could mark every contour. He can’t believe he’s never seen her around before, despite her living directly above him.

“Alright, judge, your time to shine,” she smiled, giving light blows to her painting so it would dry faster.

Harry coughed, leaving his trance. He sat up straighter and took another sip of water before setting it down on the coffee table. As he looked at each painting and compared them to Bob Ross’s, he took his job very seriously. Even though he wasn’t the actual judge, he knew that the people in front of him were competitive, and winning this painting contest means winning the world.

His eyes landed on Y/N’s, admiring the little details she was able to squeeze in, like a dusty layer of snow on trees and a reflection of light on the frozen lake. He wasn’t sure if he was hyperaware of how good her painting was because she was actually an amazing painter or because of his undeniable developing crush on her.

“So, boss, who’s the winner?” Marco asked, his words slurred together.

Harry pretended to think about it before shaking his head. “It’s hard, but I think I have to go with Y/N.”

Marco rolled his eyes and started laughing. Two girls started clapping and another guy, who seemed to be the quietest out of everyone, finished his glass of wine with a single chug. Y/N smugly grinned as she pretended to flip her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

“Should’ve known,” Elizabeth, the other person sitting on floor, chuckled.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Y/N is a fucking artist,” the other guy in the room answered. “See these paintings and drawings all over her walls? She did them herself.”

Harry scanned the room, taking in each and every piece of art. He noticed them before, and did admire them; however, now that he knew they were done by Y/N, he let his eyes linger longer.

“Oh, hush, stop embarrassing me,” Y/N said, casting her eyes to the ground as she shyly smiled. A blush was evident on her face.

“They’re really good. I didn’t know,” Harry complimented, making eye contact with Y/N. “Are you a professional?”

She scoffed and waved her hand. “Hell no. I mean, I do some commissions, but I’m just a receptionist at a gym. Art doesn’t pay the bills unless you have a big name.”

Harry nodded, completely understanding. Just as he was about to make another comment, people started gathering their items, mentioning stuff about heading home and sleeping. Harry didn’t realize how dark the sky had gotten since he arrived.

Marco was the last to leave, pecking Y/N’s cheek and hugging her goodbye. He quickly waved to Harry before slipping on his coat and closing Y/N’s door behind him. Harry was left alone with Y/N.

“You weren’t the judge, were you?” Y/N asked after a few seconds of silence.

Harry laughed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “No.”

“Why did you come to my place, then?”

“I came up here to complain about your loud Christmas music. You do realize it’s been six days of nonstop Christmas music you’ve been playing? Six bloody days,” he smiled.

Y/N crossed her arms. “Well, damn, you really aren’t festive. Wait, do you live here?”

“Right below you,” Harry tapped his foot on the floor.

“Oh. Well, I’m only slightly sorry. Shouldn’t you be home for Christmas anyway? Or does your family live near here?”

“Nah, plans didn’t work out so I’m stuck here. My, myself, and I on Christmas this year,” he said, making his way to her door.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Y/N said, her voice genuine.

Harry shrugged. “It sucks, but not much I can do about it.”

Y/N agreed, making more small talk with Harry before he reached for the door handle, mentioning how he should be leaving. He thanked her for an amazing night, despite him originally showing up to complain.

“I will say that you have the most disgusting sweater I’ve seen in a long time, though,” Harry snickered.

Y/N gasped, reaching forward and giving a quick slap to Harry’s arm as she laughed. “How dare you! I had to dig through two tubs of clothes before I found this, thank you very much.”

Harry laughed, crinkling his eyes and throwing his head back. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he said before leaving her apartment. As he walked down the hallway, he waited for the sound of her door closing, but it never came.

“Hey,” he heard a soft yell come from down the hall. Harry turned back around.

Y/N was standing in front of him, her arms crossed again. “I’m going to be here for Christmas, too. It’s just going to be me, myself, and probably my vibrator.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth in surprise.

Y/N shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, that was crude, but I’m a little drunk. Anyway, you’re welcome to join me. I promise I won’t use my vibrator in front of you. Just bring a nice bottle of wine and like, something to eat, yeah?”

“I’d love that,” Harry smiled, licking his lips.

Y/N nodded and started to turn. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry nodded and turned again, descending the stairs. A smile was plastered on his face the entire way back to his own apartment. As he arrived to his door, unlocking it and stepping inside, he grinned even wider when he heard Mariah Carey’s voice coming from above. He was more optimistic and couldn’t wait for the upcoming holiday, ready to spend Christmas with his new friend.