#also i KNOW the spotlight makes no sense with the shading but i tried doing a circle behind her and it looked weird

[hauntedriiibcage]

that one scene from representation ! :D 👍 please click for better quality (╥‿╥)

and also some progress pictures

[alephzdraws]

I know this looks like it makes no sense whatsoever yet also cool at the same time so let me explain myself.

I've been playing a lot of ULTRAKILL recently, like I beat Act 2 and all, but my brain is constantly infected with Sonic. Like constantly. So I just mentally created an ULTRAKILL AU with Sonic in it. He doesn't replace V1, he's just sort of there with them??? For some reason???

My mind is goddamn incomprehensible, always imagining Sonic where he definitely shouldn't be. One of my favourite things to do when bored.

Also, I decided to call the gun the "Sonic Wave". It's half Piercer, half Marksman. A railgun in the form of a pistol. (Idk if that even makes sense I don't even know how to draw a gun properly).

Also made two versions of this image because one of them truly just burns through my retinas, through my brain, and out the other end. I have a sensitivity to bright light and for some reason decided to make a drawing with those shades of red. I mean, it's the rare scenario that actually works, but I had to make a colour correction so people can actually look at it. However, if you wanna look at the og, go ahead. I've given the choice. Tbh, while I was making this, I just kinda tried my best to colour Sonic as if he was stood under a massive red spotlight. I think it worked, although my eyes did suffer while making this.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

if you still want to play that writers’ ask game, please consider 4, 36, and 40? for me? :3c

sweet rowan!! hello beloved i missed u 🥰😘

rowan is talking about this ask game (still open!)

4. What's a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

oh, just one?? there's so many!! well, if i can only have one, i guess it has to be darling - it's a bit of a cop out i suppose, but i find it to be incredibly versatile depending on context 🥰🥰 it can be incredibly personal and also enormously detached, genuine or sarcastic, soft or sharp or kind or cold..... there's something about the intimacy (real or not) of calling someone or being called darling that's really really appealing to me 🤩🤩

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice... what do you Know?

(....very little, i must confess......)

i know how to dance a little, and how to blag my way through school, and how to make chinese crispy pork, i know how to leave people on read, and do my laundry, and hide in my bed - i think if i wrote what i Know, i would write things that are scared and quite unfocused, and wishing to be extraordinary. i don't think they would be bad to read, but i don't think i would like them very much.

(in a much less metaphorical sense, you would get a lot of fics about dance class, robespierre, racial identity crises, and trying not to disappoint your parents. maybe not all at once, though - but i could certainly try 👀👀)

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

i tried to choose between them, but i can't, so i have two 🥳🥳

Hour, by Carol Ann Duffy

Love's time's beggar, but even a single hour,

bright as a dropped coin, makes love rich.

We find an hour together, spend it not on flowers

or wine, but the whole of the summer sky and a grass ditch.

For thousands of seconds we kiss; your hair

like treasure on the ground; the Midas light

turning your limbs to gold. Time slows, for here

we are millionaires, backhanding the night

so nothing dark will end our shining hour,

no jewel hold a candle to the cuckoo spit

hung from the blade of grass at your ear,

no chandelier or spotlight see you better lit

than here. Now. Time hates love, wants love poor,

but love spins gold, gold, gold from straw.

and this is Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see by William Shakespeare (this should be familiar! 💕💕)

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,

For all the day they view things unrespected;

But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,

And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.

Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,

How would thy shadow's form form happy show

To the clear day with thy much clearer light,

When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!

How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made

By looking on thee in the living day,

When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade

Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!

All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

[skylaryozora]

I'd love to see them actually performing some, say, anime-style songs, oh my, that would be awesome.

On this occasion, let me write a little rant.

One of the reasons I kinda like S5 (apart from Harmonix design and pretty casual outfits IMHO) was this short scene where these two got the spotlight in a good sense. Something I wasn't emotionally ready for, I kid you not, I was fangirling so much when I realized that Riven admitted he had been taking guitar classes and actually wrote A FRICKING SONG, AND HE. STARTED. SINGING. And to top it all, it turns out he has a pretty good vocal.

But all of a sudden, Musa joins him and starts singing as well. As much as I stan Rivusa, I can't understand something about this whole situation. First, how tf does she know the lyrics if he has just revealed that he had written it? Is she improvising? People justified it by pointing out that Musa is said to know melodies of people's hearts or something, and that's why she is able to sing together with him. But even if that's true and may make sense to someone, there comes the second issue...

Girl. He wrote a song for you. SO LET HIM SING and show that he is a good performer.

Knowing that your girlfriend is a fairy of music, you probably hustle hard to create something decent so as to impress her, and when the time comes, you want to show the best of you. But instead, she joins you or rather steals the spotlight, because she clearly dominates the rest of the song, eclipsing you as a result.

This feels wrong for me because it shows how Musa-centered this relationship is. Things are usually shown from her perspective, and she is made to play the first fiddle even if Riven tries to display his skills and prove he made a genuine effort for her. Her being a fairy of music and being an expert in this field in a way doesn't justify her behavior here, and I would say it's very selfish. All the more because this event is not even commented on later, in neither of the seasons, and in Musa's flashbacks from S8 we actually see her reminiscing about (all the bad things ofc) him meeting up with the female guitarist and jumping to conclusions that he was cheating on her, and NOT A GLIMPSE of him revealing his secret and singing a song he wrote for her, in front of a huge audience. I can't get over how biased and ridiculous it all is, poor writing at its finest.

If I remember correctly, Riven was actually singing before, in S4, which also wasn't that much commented on. So it wasn't that much of a revelation that he can perform.

Also, don't get me started on Winx forming a band all of a sudden and Bloom soon putting Musa in the shade and becoming the main vocalist (the latter is just outrageous, but yeah, the protagonist takes it all). A similar thing happens with other specialists accompanying Riven. Everyone goes in barbie-style into a world of music which in real life requires years of training and a knack for it all in the first place. Here, everyone suddenly knows how to play an instrument in sync with everyone else, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Same with Winx girls riding horses or playing sports (correct me if I'm wrong). Their individual interests and talents are for some reason overshadowed and flattened by the miscallenous and random things they end up doing together for the sake of... What actually?

Feel free to add anything, I really needed to vent. That notwithstanding, I do enjoy the song La Musica and the fact that they had their moment together, even though I'd rather see Riven singing separately and later them singing something else together. So yeah, I have a love-hate attitude towards this scene.

[writerpeach]

Lights & Cameras

Jeon Somi x Male Reader

5575 words

Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.

Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.

It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.

Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.

You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.

Fashion never made sense.

There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.

You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.

Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.

One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.

Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.

Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.

Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.

This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.

The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.

Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.

Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.

Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.

Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.

The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.

“Thirty minute break!”

An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.

The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.

“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.

“You must be bored out of your mind.”

You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”

“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.

“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.

“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.

Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.

“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.

“You want me to help you change?”

Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”

Thankfully nobody was in earshot.

“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.

“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”

Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.

“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.

If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.

But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.

You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.

“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.

Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.

“You’re so naughty, Somi.”

“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.

Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.

She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.

It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.

You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.

Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.

“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.

“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.

Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.

She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.

Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.

Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.

Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.

Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.

“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.

“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.

You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.

Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.

You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.

“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.

“So suck my cock.”

Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.

"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.

“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.

You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.

“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.

Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.

“Fuck, baby…”

Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.

“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.

“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”

Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.

The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.

“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.

“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”

“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”

Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.

Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.

Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.

She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.

“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.

“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.

“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”

Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.

Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.

Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.

“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.

“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.

“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”

Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.

Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.

That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.

“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not

caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.

Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.

Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.

You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.

If only her staff could see her like this.

“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”

You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.

“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.

“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.

The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.

There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.

Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.

“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.

“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.

“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”

Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.

“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.

Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.

You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.

“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.

“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”

“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”

“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”

Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.

“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”

Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.

“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”

You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.

Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.

“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.

You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.

“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.

Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.

Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.

It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.

“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.

Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.

That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.

“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.

“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”

Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.

You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.

Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.

"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"

You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.

It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.

“I’m fucking cumming!”

It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.

You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.

Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.

You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.

“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”

“You asked me to.”

“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.

Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.

“Jeon Somi to the set please!”

The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.

“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”

“Of course, baby.”

She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.

You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.

You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.

Somi had a lot of explaining to do.

[buckys-broody-muffin]

Your Protector

Summary: You're a shy person but the best at your job on Stark's tech team. A certain soldier joins the team and you stick close to him.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Shy!reader

Warnings: None, fluff :)

Words: 1,392

A/N: written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club ♥️ hope you all enjoy it :) I really didn’t intend on writing so much but this really got away from me. 

You don't really know why you were so smitten with the newest member of the team. There was just something about the quiet man that lured you in. His beefy figure making you feel nothing but safe in his presence. If he wasn't in the room, you would find yourself searching for him and feeling calmer.

You would often watch him sitting on the couch reading a book. His hair would be tied back in a low bun and you were pretty sure he slept, showered and lived in that red Henley of his.

It was so unlike you since you're the shyest member of the tech team. But you're also very anxious and it doesn't take much to scare you. Even a simple thing can make you tremble for hours. You do your job very well and the team of superheroes absolutely adore you. You were more comfortable being open and talkative with Natasha more than the boys. And if Bucky was near, your throat would close up.

Your anxiety and shyness meant you are yet to say a word to Bucky. The things you've learnt about him, such as how he likes his coffee, or what food he likes to eat, you've learnt from conversations from other members.

You've also learnt what movies he enjoys watching. What flavor popcorn he likes the best. The team has also noticed you like to be near Bucky at all times. So it didn't come as a surprise when you asked Natasha if she could talk to Tony about moving rooms so you were closer to Bucky. Which he of course did.

And none of this escaped Bucky's attention. He's also become aware of your quiet presence around him. Sitting next to him during movie nights, at the dinner table, everywhere he was, you would be too. And Steve couldn't keep the shit eating grin off his face when he told him that you had asked to move rooms.

It didn't annoy Bucky at all. He was actually flattered but he failed to understand why. Why did you want to be around him so much? He knew from his observations you were very shy and timid. Was it because he was also quiet? He didn't know.

"Pal, I'm telling you. Watch Y/N sit next to you tonight during movie night." Steve said with a chuckle and a pat on his back. Bucky shook his head, he must be thinking too much into this.

So the members decided to test something, to prove their theory.

Natasha sat next to Bucky on the smaller couch. Tony, Pepper and Sam sat on the larger one opposite. Steve, Clint, Wanda and Vision took the reclining chairs. Which meant there was just the soft large memory foam bean bag to sit on, a seat Sam usually occupied.

Everyone was in their comfy position with their popcorn and snacks. A few minutes later you arrived with your bag of chips to share.

You looked around the room and noticed all the seats were occupied. Especially your favorite seat next to Bucky. Your face dropped and tried not to think too much into it. But thanks to your anxiety, you were wondering if Bucky had specifically asked Natasha to sit there so you couldn't.

Your anxiety was building up and you started to bite on your nail. You stood there, not knowing what to do. Steve's eyes landed on your uncomfortable form and he was worried this was a bad idea. You were trembling and your eyes were glossy.

"Hey Y/N. Come and sit down." Steve motioned to the bean bag. You didn't like the attention, you felt everyone burning holes in your face. But nevertheless, your feet moved on their own accord. You were still biting your nail and you looked down at Natasha and she smiled up at you.

"Hey sweetie." She mouthed and you relaxed slightly. Your eyes flickered over to Bucky and noticed he was staring at the TV, you assumed he wasn't paying any attention but he was. He was waiting to see what you were going to do.

"Can I... Can I sit here please?" You whispered. Your face turning a new shade of red as you felt incredibly uncomfortable in the spotlight all of a sudden.

Natasha gave a knowing smirk and nodded her head. She sat down on the bean bag and sighed, sharing a look with Steve as you took a seat quite close to Bucky.

"Guys! I totally forgot. Should we go and get some pizza to bring back?" Tony suggested as he pointed to the others except you and Bucky.

He needed 8 Avengers to go and get some pizza?

"Great idea. We'll be back in 20!" Sam spoke up.

"Oh and kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. It's a new couch." Tony warned and your face heated up at the suggestion. You could barely talk to the man next to you, let alone anything sexy.

When the others left. You and Bucky were sitting in silence. It felt awkward and you didn't know what to do.

You were about to get up and leave when he finally spoke.

"Why are you always near me?"

You blushed and stumbled over your own words. You bit on your nail again and your eyes darted around the room.

"I mean... Why ME exactly?" He pressed. Turning his body so he could face you directly. He noticed your anxiety was going crazy and he felt bad for not wording it lighter.

"I uh... I...uhh..." You were close to crying. You weren't good at forming words and your heart beating itself out of your chest wasn't helping the situation.

"Hey. Calm down, it's alright. I'm not mad okay? It's just me. I'm just curious s'all." His flesh fingers pulled your finger away from your mouth and he noticed the bit of blood pooling on the corner of your nail where you had bitten it so badly. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and offered a soft smile. It unfortunately did nothing to calm your nerves though.

“I just feel...safe...with...you.” You blushed and kept your gaze in your lap. Your voice was so quiet that you weren’t sure he heard you. 

But he heard you perfectly. Bucky was taken aback by your confession. You felt safe with him? How was that even possible? Had you not heard about the carnage he was responsible for during his Winter Soldier days? The pain he caused hundreds of families when he was sent to assassinate a target? How could you feel safe next to someone like that?

“I.. know it’s weird... I’m weird... I’m sorry.” You whispered and went to stand up. His large hand wrapped around your smaller wrist to keep you next to him. His brows were furrowed as he tried to make sense from all of this. 

“You feel safe with me?” He asked. He needed to be sure you didn’t use the wrong words. But by his furrowed eyebrows and straight lips. You were worried you went too far. 

“I do.” 

“But why?” He asked almost immediately. You licked your lips and gathered your thoughts. 

“You’re a big strong man. Quiet, don’t... let harm...come to others.” You were having a hard time finding your quiet voice. “I just feel safe near you.” You offered him a sweet smile, which eventually he returned. 

Bucky pulled you into a tight hug and your nose brushed against the stubble that was growing on his throat area. His cologne was strong, but gorgeous. Your hands fisted his henley as he held you. Bucky would never know what made him transition. He had so many questions, but there was just something about you that made him want to protect you at all times. For now, those questions didn’t matter. You were innocent, timid and shy and if you felt safe with him, then he was going to make sure he wrapped you up in bubble wrap to protect you from the evilness of the world. 

“I’ll always protect you, doll.” You grinned into his chest at the pet name and you were thankful he couldn’t see the new blush on your cheeks. 

He would be your protector. And there was absolutely nothing you could do in the world now, to make him stop protecting you. 

My teensy-weensy taglist: @jobean12-blog​ @nano--raptor​ @finleyjayne​ @marvelgirl7​

[nightingaelic]

Companions (DLC included) respond to the Courier getting drunk at their wedding.

Arcade Gannon: "What is wrong with you? You couldn't pick any other day to act like a brahmin who got into the broc patch?"

Super apologetic toward his new husband, he should've known the courier was going to make a scene, honestly, it's about the only thing they're good at, and gets so flustered he starts blushing and his newly-minted spouse has to reassure him that the courier isn't even the most inebriated person there. That award goes to Cass, who is pickling herself in a mixture of wedding joy and despair that the nerdy gay scientist of the friend group found love before she did. Arcade stops the courier from being a bad influence and forbids the bartender from pouring the pair of them any more shots. Will not hold the courier's hair if they throw up, but will slip them some Rebound for the inevitable hangover.

Craig Boone: "Take it easy. Here, I'll finish that one for you."

Ignores the courier's antics completely until they make their way up to congratulate him and his new partner personally, at which point his usual stony façade will crack a bit. He's well-acquainted with the courier's drunk personality by now, but hasn't let himself loosen up out of a strong sense of duty. Now, on this happy day, he's willing to relax an inch and share some extra drinks with them and the rest of the Lucky 38 crew. This is the one time the courier will be able to steal his beret and be able to hang onto it until after the festivities.

Lily Bowen: "Go sit in the corner until you can behave yourself, dearie!"

Embarrassed by her surrogate grandchild's actions, Lily would attempt to scold the courier back into sobriety. Eventually she would realize her efforts are fruitless and take a few minutes to sulk, before the whirlwind happiness of the day and the flounce of her dress win out and she lets her spouse, the courier and her Lucky 38 and Jacobstown friends lead her out to the middle of the dance floor. After that, well, there aren't many spectacles that can top seeing a bunch of super mutants dancing.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Hey, hey, slow down boss! Tenemos muchos años más to act like fools together, eh?"

As soon as the courier jumps up on a table to give an impromptu toast, Raul will unleash his best grito and toast them back with the nearest bottle of tequila. Once deep enough into the alcohol himself, Raul would get a little weepy and start thanking them profusely for their role in his recent years of life, leaning on them as much as they're leaning on him. Largely forgiving of messes caused by clumsiness or turned stomachs, unless any of them threaten to ruin his suit or his partner's outfit.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Well if this ain't an excuse to get wasted in the wastes, I don't know what is."

Cass lives up to her nickname "Whiskey Rose" and is probably just as deep into her cups as the courier. Through the laughter, stumbles, bumps and curse words, however, Cass is careful not to go past her point of no return, and cuts the courier off before they also slip over the edge. She's spent much of her later life trying to get blackout drunk, but today is not a day she wants either of them to forget. As such, she has a low tolerance for anyone who messes up something important in her eyes, and will toss them out on their ass. God help anyone who rips her dress.

Veronica Santangelo: "That's the first time I've seen anyone mix Jake Juice and ant nectar together. This should be interesting."

Rather than confront a drunken courier about their bad behavior, Veronica settles for blushing deeper and deeper shades of pink, until her new wife tells her to go outside and get some air. Like Cass, she is very protective of her dress, but mostly because she loves wearing it in general and wants to feel like a princess for as long as she can. Will definitely get lost in the bathroom with Cass and the courier at some point, complimenting everyone who walks in. Will hold the courier's hair back if they throw up.

BONUS!

Dean Domino: "Don't leave me out if you have plans for some grand finale. Marriage might've caught me, but this snake can still rattle."

As long as the courier doesn't start singing, Dean regards their drunken stunts with a charming smile and a wink or two. If the courier tries to start some impromptu karaoke, however, Dean will start heckling them and get the rest of the guests to join in. This is less about being offended by their singing and more about putting himself back in the center of the spotlight. If the song is a duet, though, he'll probably join in on the second part with some pre-war choreography.

Christine Royce: [scowls]

The Brotherhood assassin is quite good at piercing glares, which is exactly what the courier will get if they don't put the centerpiece down and melt back into the crowd around the bar. Christine is also unafraid of a confrontation, and if the courier's behavior doesn't improve after their first warning, they'll be kicked to the outskirts of the reception, or kicked out altogether. Veronica will take pity on them if this happens and sneak them some food, but Christine doesn't let her guard down easily anymore and removal from the party is permanent.

Dog/God: "Hrrrrrrn..."

Watching the courier overindulge is too much for the nightkin, who is painfully reminded of his own split personality. Still too polite to ask the courier to tone it down or leave though, he instead disappears until the courier leaves or until someone else deals with them.

Follows-Chalk: "Let's share a cup or two, then get back to things, neh?"

Though he's personally fine with the courier's lack of decorum, Follows-Chalk meets the disapproving glances from the rest of the Dead Horses with sheepish grins and hustles them to the back of the celebration if they get too loud. He'll share a few drinks with them though, and the alcohol will warm him up significantly toward letting them back into the center of things. Ultimately, he and the courier will wind up swaying together over a bonfire, singing songs off-key and reminiscing about their time together in Zion.

Waking Cloud: "Muddy your water if you must, but do not forget to let it run clean beneath the morning."

The tall, stately bride is polite and tolerant of the courier's drunken outbursts, but chooses not to partake herself when offered drinks. The Sorrows view mind-altering substances as something for serious, sacred purposes, and weddings are focused on celebration rather than ritual. Still, Waking Cloud can't help but smile when the courier tries their hand at the intricate, unending dances on the banks of the Virgin River. They might look foolish, and watching members of the tribe might wince, but the smile on their face is pure ecstasy.

Joshua Graham: "There is a fire that burns within the righteous, but that fire cannot prosper if you insist on quenching it."

As a Mormon, Joshua Graham doesn't drink, and he's very judgmental of those who overindulge. Seeing as it's the courier, his disdain is tempered into something more akin to disappointment, but he'll still take every opportunity to pull them aside and try to explain their faux pas in between their hiccups. Most likely to have a dry wedding in the first place, but we all know the courier has a trusty Vault 13 canteen and is great at breaking the rules.

Ulysses: "The Twin Mothers knew how to cure a wound with bitters, one drink at a time... some wounds need more. More bitters, and more drinks. There's enough bitterness already in our history."

Ulysses also doesn't drink, but he knows better than to try to separate the courier from a good time. He'll simply avoid them until they simmer down, grabbing his partner and ducking out of conversations right before the courier crashes them. He's so successful in this that the courier might start loudly complaining about how they "didn't know we were back in the Divide," and enlist ED-E to bob around the party in pursuit.

[aquaticstyles]

the five senses

hello everyone! while a separate 13k fic is in the works, as promised, here is a lil 2k piece i miraculously came up with at midnight. as always, feedback is happily welcomed!!! happy reading lovies x 

it's been five months since it ended.

you should hate him. you should utterly and fascinatingly despise him. you should hate the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he smelled, and the way the sounded. you should forget him—rip every page, crumple him up, and strike a match.

key word: should.

but you don't hate him. you couldn't if you tried. you are utterly and fascinatingly still wrapped around his perfect, ring-encircled fingers. you love the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he sounded. you can't forget him, no matter how much you want to. his ink is still scattered in the novels of your memories, proving to be permanent and stubborn as you try desperately to put fire to its pools.

you are still utterly and fascinatingly not over him.

and you suppose that is why your mind has chosen to drift off to candy land, marshmallow puff trees and gooey caramel lakes, visions of him swimming around, around, and around.

and you also suppose that you shouldn't be thinking of him while another man touches your skin.

key word: shouldn't.

but you can't help it. not when you're reminded of just how differently harry captured your senses and locked them away in the thumping of his chest, throwing away the key.

sight

you can still see him.

his dimples popping, inviting you to curl up inside one of them for just a moment, bunny teeth displayed in an ear to ear grin when he sees you, his lover, his everything, finally in 3D again, because boy oh boy pixelated facetime does not do you justice.

those two endless forests of green paired with wispy eyelashes, billboards for his every emotion, reeling you in and casting you back over and over and over again.

that body of his that makes you positively drool—fresh out of the shower, a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, those ferns that if you had it your way, would never be covered, tempting your eyes to what's below, other markings of ink scattered across a toned bicep, chest, thigh, an endless coloring book for you and only you to paint with your lips, diamond water droplets clinging onto tanned, sun-kissed skin, mimicking your fingers as they slide down the tight muscles, ridges and valleys, of his back, the velvet, rose scrunchie of yours that he has claimed as his own cozying up around those stubborn, chestnut curls atop his head, the ones that cause eyes to roll and skin to furrow between his brows because "they're always in my fuckin' way."

the way he looks when he's napping in the summer heat after taking a refreshing dip in the pool—cheek smushed against a lawn chair, causing his bubble-gum pink lips to pucker unintentionally, begging for a slow, lazy, warm kiss, a van gogh masterpiece of bright blues, oranges, yellows, reds, whites, greens, browns, swirling together in his canvas, those green forests peacefully hidden as his pure, innocent relaxation melts into a scene of serenity before you (you're guilty of laying directly on top of him one too many times, pressing your cheek against the warm expanse of his back and sneaking in a cat nap as well).

how he looks when he enters a room, especially those rooms with a stage and thousands of fans bubbling over with excitement, confidence and swagger exuding from his pores as the spotlights hit him in all the right places, bouncing off the numerous gems and glitter of that night's glamorous get-up. then later the way he looks as his face twists in pleasure during a post-show-adrenaline-rush-dressing-room-quickie.

his reflection in the mirror of your vanity as you do your makeup, broad shoulders leant up against the doorframe, watching you as you carefully add sparkles here and powder there, the glint of curiosity and pure infatuation in his eye, his fingers toying with the smirk on his lips when you meticulously swipe on your favorite his favorite red lipstick, knowing good and well that once he's finished with you there won't be a single trace of crimson left on your lips.

you can see all of him, from the tufts of hair you love to tug and pull and sink your hands into, to the perfect slope of his nose, the sharp pinch of his jawline, his cute ears you poke fun at much to his annoyance, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect, perfect lips, his neck that always seems readily accessible to leave bites and red stains along, the ship stamped on his bicep, his abdomen that isn't too tight or too soft under your touch, just right, the happy trails leading to that one part of him that leaves you aching for days, his thighs, all the way down to his toe permanently labeled "Big."

touch

you can still feel him.

the tips of his calloused fingers tracing down your spine, a valley of goosebumps following in their tracks, a sea of comfort washing over you. fingers intertwined between yours, squeezing your palm, fresh autumn air and central park and new coats and steaming, black coffee. fingers fanned out across your thigh, splashes of pastel purple polish on cuticles and knuckles (he was shaking too much from laughing at something on twitter like an avocado in a top hat or a dog in gucci loafers). fingers following directions on a well-traveled map, tracing over the outline of your chapped lips, up to the apples of your rosy cheeks, to your temples, and entangling into long locks of tangled hair, braiding, massaging and scratching when you've had a tough day, exhausted, hypnotized, harry.

lips against your ear, hushed whispers meant for only you in the midst of a thundering crowd (one too many neat tequilas and risky texts), cold rings sneaking underneath your shirt and spanning out against a piping hot back, the vibrations from the bass thumping beneath you joined by the organ in your chest, sweaty palms and shaky knees as rivers of suggestions flood from his earth to yours, promises that will be proven true later in seductive, blue moonlight.

his sudsy chest cuddled snugly behind your back, sinking beneath bubbles of lavender and rose because he couldn't just pick one scent, your missing puzzle piece, pruny fingers tracing shapes onto your knee beneath the water, vibrations from his giggles when you mistakenly guessed the shape as a dinosaur (it was a banana), warm puffs of breath against your neck, sopping scrunchies stacked on the ledge next to a half empty bottle of red, lips painting across your shoulder down your arm to your fingertips coating you in bright yellow, affection, admiration, addiction.

the prickles of the new addition to his face scratching up against you in the most agonizingly amazing way as his face buries between your thighs, the magic of that mouth of his, pixie dust, an arched back, an eager tongue accompanied by glistening, cherry lips, pleadings of "never shave again."

him buried inside you in the early hours of the morning, legs anchored around his waist, miles and miles of his soft, tanned skin washing against your own, nails digging into the toned ridges of his back, chestnut locks falling onto a sweaty forehead, scorching lips dancing over every inch of you over and over until he reaches that one spot, moans and exhales and crumpled sheets, your temple resting on a swallow, fingertips tracing a lone butterfly, clutching onto the cold metal of a cross, lazy smiles, bed head, halfway closed eyelids, a tranced daze basking in fresh, crisp sunlight.

taste

you can still taste him.

the bitter taste of whiskey coating his tongue as it encircles your own in the back of a taxi, wrinkled suit jackets and bunched up satin, fingers toying with buttons and zippers, giggles when his nose bumps against yours carelessly, a clouded drunken haze of city lights and sparkling sequins.

minty toothpaste covered lips smushing against yours because he just "couldn't wait," spearmint, foamy smiles wiped away on plush towels.

juice from a ripe watermelon dribbling down his chin and leaving a sugary path along his exposed neck and chest, glistening in the afternoon, summer heat, lapped up teasingly by your tongue, causing widened eyes and a harsh gulp, the reflection of heart shaped sunglasses rippling in a crystal clear pool.

a warm cup of coffee sitting on your bedside table, placed there by your lover before he leaves for a run, waiting for you in the early morning glow of your bedroom, the scent from a fresh pot still lingering in the air, the steaming liquid slowly cascading down your throat during his absence.

coconut chapstick coating his lips, stolen from your side of the vanity, even though he has countless of tubes himself he claims using yours "is more moisturizing" when in reality he just likes keeping a part of you with him at all times.

saltwater droplets clinging onto his skin, coating your lips as you leave trails of kisses along his chest and sunburnt cheeks, awaking him from his nap in the shade, waves crashing behind you, seagulls chirping and trying to steal crisps, low grumblings of "what's this fo?" accompanied by a dimple and a smirk ("just cause").

smell

you can still smell him.

the candle burning in his dressing room on tour, the one you bought him that you immediately recognize when you visit him for the first time since he left, a warm batch of butterflies brewing in your tummy when you notice the almost completely burnt through wick, apples and cinnamon.

his detergent, leaving your clothes coated in a fresh linen scent because "no way yeh leaving mine with laundry to do, love" a pair of his boxers that he knows you love to wear folded neatly on top of the rest of your belongings and sent off with a pillowy peck to your lips and promises of "see you tomorrow."

his body wash and hair product duplicates in your shower, dancing with daisies in the steam surrounding him, persisting in the small, tiled space for most of the week, even in his vacancy. sometimes you'll accidentally on purpose grab his bottle of shampoo with your eyes closed, using more than intended (harry goes through shampoo much quicker now).

the diffuser in his bedroom, spewing out vapors of a eucalyptus blend he ordered online after extensive research ("it helps with clear breathin' and relaxation"), another scent that can only be described as pure harry, later encompassing your abode as well due to your incessant claims of how much you love it (one night you came home from work to a perfectly wrapped package on the foot of your bed, a diffuser and the same eucalyptus blend hidden inside).

his cologne perched on your dresser, tom ford, tobacco vanille, harry in a bottle, sneakily spritzed on your sweatshirt when he's not looking (he notices every time), lingering on your pillow case, his purple robe hanging next to yours, and your hand towels, tokens of him dolloped throughout your apartment, a tornado of familiarity swirling you into his galaxy. the same scent filling your nose as it buries into his neck, arms wrapped around him in an ages-long bear hug, his cheek resting against the top of your head, the soft fibers of his sweater tickling your skin.

sound

you can still hear him.

the warm drip of his honey voice in the early hours of the morning, raspy and deep from his slumber, pooling in the pit of your stomach growing thick and heavy until releasing with moans and whispers lost in the rising sun.

that laugh of his that doesn't bubble up often, the one you cause more than anyone else, buckets of giggles that leaves behind tears, crinkled eyes, and hands over tummies.

his thick accent that repolishes itself after he's made a trip to london, mumbles of "bugger," "oi love," "rubbish," and your favorite, "absobloodylutely" leaving his cherry lips more often than he realizes.

his moans. your favorite kind is when you're riding him, locked in a sweaty, pulsating embrace—twisting here and turning there and doing the things you know drive him absolutely mad—those moans that erupt from deep inside him and uncharacteristically replace his typical, filthy language because you're doing him so good that he's left speechless in a heap of tangled limbs and panting breaths.

his voice as it echoes in the acoustics of the shower, the soft patter of the water serving as his own orchestra, notes belonging to rock anthems of the 70s or sometimes his own verses that have been freshly inked in his worn-in journal (occasionally you'll record him singing the new ones—unbeknownst to him—to listen to when he's away for too long).

the clinking of his rings together when he's in full-on discussion mode—using his hands as he elaborately details a story of his childhood or a conversation he had with jeff today or why he thinks salsa shouldn't go in the fridge or the reason behind this lyric and that chord progression.

his keys clanking against the ceramic dish by the door, the sweetest symphony to your ears because he's home.

and finally, the sound of those three words—smooth as butter rolling off his tongue effortlessly, a hurricane crashing and splashing against you, three strings lifting you off your feet and soaring into the clouds, green eyes and rosy cheeks pulling your heart strings, sweet sugar crystals floating from his lips to yours—"i love you."

physically, he's gone, probably off writing another album, undoubtedly doing much better than you are. maybe he's even moved on, cuddled up into another woman's side, whispering things in her ear, tangled up in her sheets.

but in every other way imaginable, he's still with you.

five senses, five million memories.

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight :)

Angel of Life, Bringer of Death by woofles1990 (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 377 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Steve and Dk just wanted to explore a dungeon. That's all they wanted! A certain angel clearly had other plans.

flashover by Anonymous (Apollo & 5up, teen rating, gen | 853 words)

Summary: n. the moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world. OR: it's pretty stupid to sleep on the tiles of a subway station, even though you are well aware you have a home. It's also quite embarrassing to have a friend pick you up from there.

Sparks Fly by Rocketro (5up/Fundy, gen rating, m/m | 863 words)

Summary: 5up and Fundy watch fireworks together.

you're holding back (shut up and dance with me) by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: 5up and steve dance.

what happens in Vegas by aphilologicalbatman (Apollo/Steve, explicit rating, m/m | 1.4k words)

Summary: "I'm pretty sure this is a bad idea, Steve." "Nah, this is a great idea, dude." (Or: the one where they hook up in Vegas.)

quiet when i'm coming home by homeward_bound (5up/Hafu/David, teen rating, gen & multi | 1.4k words)

Summary: 5up comes home from LA.

i could peel it for you by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: One appletini at a time, 5up ponders about oranges, buttons and celestial bodies.

from blossoms by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: “O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.” -Li-Young Lee, From Blossoms

you think that i'm foolish now by amsves (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: “Is everything okay?” That’s a stupid question and Steve knows it. If everything was okay, Five wouldn’t be randomly appearing at his hotel room at—Steve checks his phone—2:37 in the morning. Their group had split up for the night a few hours ago, uncharacteristically early for them, but Five had had plans to talk to—

Like you wouldn't notice by Anonymous (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: Apollo is having feelings, so he pushes them down and hopes Steve doesn't notice. Avoiding Steve was never going to end well. "From that moment on, Apollo becomes hyper-aware of all things Steve. The way his long leg touches his, hip-to-knee, in the bar booth when they're drinking overpriced cocktails."

Vegas Lights by amethystvxidwalker (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.3k words)

Summary: “You were planning on actually swimming with me, right?” Steve faced him, brown eyes and dopey grin almost making Five swoon. He forced himself to focus on Steve’s face rather than the black ink above his hip, small, blocky text that read ‘SUGR?’ because of course it did.

ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: Apollo isn’t sure when, exactly, he fell in love with Steve. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, he never really fell. Maybe, he’s been falling. He’s still falling.

u spilled orange on u by SmearedWords (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.1k words)

Summary: Five times Dumbdog thinks Steve is illegally attractive and the one time he tries to admit that to him. Keyword: tries.

My love is the evening breeze touching your skin by tumtummeke (Apollo & Steve, general rating, gen | 5.2k words)

Summary: Steve's love language is physical touch. Dumbdog's is... not that. A day at the beach with Steve and Dumbdog (and background crewfu), told in five touches.

be like the love that discovered sin by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 5.6k words)

Summary: It’s annoying because Apollo even left for work a whole hour early today, which should be enough time to get to his shitty office job like everyone else on the train, but unlike everyone else, Apollo also has a second job. Which leads to the last reason why Apollo is having a bad day: being pinned under an overturned car while a villain monologues at him. Well, that last reason isn’t really part of Apollo’s bad day, but sue him if he wants to include the misfortunes of his hero identity Dumbdog while listing the reasons for his bad mood. “I don’t have time for this, Suptic,” Apollo grits out, interrupting the villain’s monologue.

friends in this town by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 6.1k words)

Summary: Five only realizes he’s bitten his nails down to the quick when the sting of pain catches up to him. He’s probably overthinking. He just needs to talk to Hafu. That’s all. ...He doesn’t want to. He’s worried he will only hear an answer he’ll hate. Out back, putting off talking to his sister really gives Five a sense of deja vu. All he needs to complete the feeling is Steve. “You need to relax, man.” Speak of the devil.

this party's just another haunted house by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 7.7k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: On December 31st, Apollo wakes up in his hotel in Vegas. The problem is, it's always December 31st.

call me by your name (i don't know that's pretty gay) by Qupid (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 10k words)

Summary: “Oh!” The human suddenly exclaimed, “You probably want my name!” Five had no interest in holding the power of a name over a human, it always seemed more trouble than it was worth, “Not particu-” “I’m Steve! It’s a pleasure to meet someone as cute as you.” The human, Steve, interrupted before 5up could finish. 5up’s eyes widened as he felt the power of gaining a name rush through him.  It was intoxicating and he could see why some fae would frequently come to the human realm just to trick humans into giving up their names. Five hadn’t needed to trick Steve, the man had given up his name freely and Five couldn’t believe how goddamn stupid he was to do it. “Ohhhh my god you’re an idiot.”

you'll hear me howling outside your door by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 22.2k words)

Summary: Something warm blew against Steve’s face and, distantly, he heard a high pitched whine. A nudge, and when Steve ignored it, a more insistent push had him opening his eyes to the face of a wolf mere inches from his own. Steve laughed. How delightful!  He was hallucinating animals now. The wolf’s fur looked bright to him, but even with as dark as it was Steve could tell it wasn’t white. Maybe it was more of a sandy color. Not that it mattered when all Steve could focus on was its piercing gaze and how its eyes seemed to bore into his soul. The wolf whined again and nudged Steve in the shoulder with its nose, making the man rear back when he realized that this might actually be a real wolf and not a hallucination at all.

kinda good for my love by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 44.7k words, chaptered)

Summary: 5up can’t really recall the exact moment when dares became his and Steve’s thing and he is not sure if he even wants to try - after all, why would you mess with something that feels so natural, that feels so right? Why not just let it take its course and see where it might lead them?

Also: mangoedges‘s 5up the human impostor collection!

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[curiousscientistkae]

oh yeah since I have new peeps here is a rundown of myshe ra kiddos +finally adding some i never talked about. Ages are just to show gaps between kids, they are not "canon". Under the cut stuff. I uh....ramble

Glimmadora:

Harper-20, eldest daughter/child. Born Feb 1st. She/Her, Demi-Bi. Heir to Brightmoon, gets called 'AJ' (Adora Jr) a lot by Glimmer since she looks and acts a lot like Adora. Has shoulder length two toned blonde hair (top half light like She-ra, bottom darker like Adora) with sparkles at the edns, sparkling purple eyes shaped like Adora's, tan skin like Glimmer, glasses, sometimes wears a hearing aid in her right ear. Has cream/purple wing markings on her back that later will turn into feathery cream wings with purple tips.

Sound based powers (cause my brain was like light and sound) but still can create light stuff they just make sounds also. Also can turn invisible. Being unable to control the powers as a toddler, she lost her hearing in her right ear. Everyone in the family knows sign language.

Smart af, witty, as the eldest of all the kids can be protective to a fault, anxious, wants to not fuck up and be a great queen. Will overwork herself and is a perfectionist, though can be forgetful. Is a great shoulder to lean on/be listened to.

Grows to 6' (she got them angella genes (who is alive in this au, not micah) and athletic build like Adora. Named to match the 'er' at Glimmer's name, her sound powers, and the Lyra constellation. Glimmer was the one to have her.

Mira-13, youngest daughter eldest twin. Born July 9th. She/Her, Lesbian, about 5 mins older than Micah. Powerless Princess. Got her great aunt and grandpa's hair color, pale skin (same as Adora), ice blue eyes shaped like Adora's, freckles on face. Usually has hair in ponytail held up by that butterfly pin from princess prom. Also almost always has a red cloak around her. Called 'Mimi'

Born with no magic and not connected to the moonstone (long story short in my au, First Ones cannot use magic without help or it will kill them. Mira got the most FO genes thus she cannot use magic. Whole ass idea i need to explore). Tries to make up for it with fighting skills. While she doesn't show it a lot, she hates the fact she is powerless and will not grow wings either.

Clever, rebellious, loves to explore. Can have a temper to her, wears her heart on her sleeve. Natural born leader. Butts heads with her mothers the most and has run away a few times (once for a very very long time heh). At the end of the day, she doesn't want to be in the shadow of anyone/wants to make her own mark.

Grows to 5'6", chubby build like Glimmer. Named to match the 'ra' in Adora's name and the 'Mi' in Micah's name. OG she was going to have healing powers before I got rid of that so it was also sort for Miracles. 'Mira' is a star, one that is an actual shooting star. Adora was the one to have her

Micah-13, youngest child only son. Born July 9th. He/Him and They/Them. Demi-Boy. Bi, about 5 mins younger than Mira. Has spell powers. Messy, chin length dark purple hair (the same shade as the bottom half of Glimmer's hair), sky blue eyes with sparkles and shaped like Glimmer's, freckles on face. Light tan skin (between his sisters). Has purple wing markings on back and later will get purple feathered wings. Called MJ (Micah Jr) or Mickey

Like his grandfather, great aunt, and Ma before him, he can use spells. Struggles with it but eventually learns he is best at defensive ones. They look up to many of the guards in the castle and wants to be one when he grows up.

Quiet, soft spoken, nervous boy. Def keeps his twin sister from doing something totally stupid. Trusting, sometimes too much, can hold grudges if wronged badly. Tries to see the best in others. Named to honor his grandfather, they want to live up to them and be a great sorcerer

Grows to 5'11, more avg/a bit stocky build. Named to match the 'Mi' with Mira and as Micah is dead in this still (i made them a long time ago) after him. Adora was the one to have them.

Scorpia's Kid

Onca-13, only child of Scorpia. Born May 4th. They/Them. Non-binary Pan. Magicat/Scorpion. OG a scorptra kid but Catra no longer with Scorpia. Has medium length snow white hair, usually in a small pony tail, light brown skin, amber eyes (only iris has the color not the whole eye). Cat fangs and white cat tail. Has those scorpion shouler pads and venom their fangs (not as strong as their mother's) and blue blood. No fur. Called 'Onc' or by Scorpia her 'Lil' Kitling'

Has electrical powers like Scorpia. Venom will only make the part they bite numb, does not fully knock anyone out. Is quick on their feet.

Laid back, quick to adapt, resting bitch face, can be a little lazy, sometimes acts without thinking, and easily distracted. Before growth spurt, they were small and grew a hatred of being seen as always needing help. Just a gentle giant really.

Grows to 6'3, strong build like Scorpia. Named after the latin species name of the Jaguar.

(i so need to work and the following kids more rip)

Bowfuma

Robin-18, eldest son/child of Bow and Perfuma. Born March 20th, He/Him. Gay. Dark brown skin, dark brown, short hair, dark brown eyes. Wears glasses. Has plant powers. Called Robby. Heir to Plumeria.

Plant powers are a WIP kind of, might be like Perfuma or a little dif but is connected to the Runestone. Knows some archery but prefers a crossbow.

Self assured, he knows who he is and what he wants to do, fair-takes both sides of an argument into account. Is the least likely to cause shit. Can be messy and hates when his things are moved. Procrastinator.

Grows to 6', lean build. Named after both Robin Hood, the archer, and the bird

Eliza-16, only daughter. Born Sept 15th, She/Her, Aro/Ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown hair in two braids, dark brown eyes, freckles. Needs glasses but wears contacts. Powers allows her to talk to animals. Called 'Liza'.

Also connected to the runestone, Eliza and talk to animals. She actually started to talk to them before speaking to her parents. When she talks to them, to others it sounds like she is making the animal sounds.

Passionate and loves animals. While her cousin Mira puts her energy into trouble, she puts it into being outside and building things or helping her mom and dad. Hates being stuck inside. Can be whimsical. Loves to be challenged and doesn't back down from stuff, even when maybe she should. Can be a bit dense.

Grows to 5'8", lean build. Named after Eliza Thornberry.

Ash-15, youngest of their siblings. Born Nov 23rd. He/She/They genderfluid. No real label-uses queer. Medium brown skin, medium length, wavy blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Freckles. Has no powers but does not mind it at all.

Unlike his younger cousin, Mira, Ash does not care they do not have powers or are not next in line for the thorn. They are happy to just learn from their father or others. Kind of a jack of all trades.

Has a big heart and a love for all life. Once she is set on something, she sees it through to the end. Very observant of the world and what goes on in it. Can be impatient and doesn’t always take things seriously. Jokes way to often. Free-spirit

Grows to 5'10", thin build like his mom. Named after the type of tree which you could use to make a bow.

Seamista

Newt-18, oldest and only son of Sea Hawk and Mermista. Born Dec 11th, Trans Man He/Him, Pan ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown eyes, short blue hair. Has no runestone powers but can still turn into a merman when in the water.

Newt was next in line for the throne but stepped down, not liking the idea of being a king. He likes to spend time at the beach, swimming, and enjoying being in the sun. Usually keeps his sisters from killing each other.

Hard worker, does not usually slack off, does hate being in the spotlight. Humble. Good at reading emotions. Can lose track of time easily. Has his mother's dry sense of humor. Will faint at the sight of blood

Grows to 5'7", build like Sea Hawk. Named for the salamander that is associate with fire. And with it being an amphibian and transitioning from one stage to another, kind of works there also.

Sandra-15, oldest daughter. Born Mar 7th, She/Her, Pan. Medium brown skin, brown eyes, dark long brown curly hair. Has water based powers (still a WIP whoops). Can turn into a mermaid when in the water.

After her brother stepped down, she is now the heir to her kingdom. Still working a bit on her powers but is connected to the runestone. FIGHTS with her sister all the time.

Very much a girly girl, loves pink, skirts, sparkles, all that jazz. Takes her role as princess seriously. Dutiful and punctual. Hates messes, likes things to be neat. Does not like things randomly being dropped on her.

Grows to 5'8", Mermista's body build. Nickname is Sandy and is called that the most. Named cause yeah....sandy.

Yamuna-12, youngest child/daughter. Born Apr 13th, She/Her, Greyromo/sexual Lesbian. Long blue hair though will dye it many colors, usually orange, light brown skin, brown eyes. Water powers. Cannot fully turn into a mermaid when in the water, just gets webbing and gills.

She can control the temperature of the water around her, freezing it or boiling it at will. Is a great sailor

Pure Sea Hawk child, pretty much his clone. Wild, hyper, will set shit on fire. Takes pride in everything she does. Will blurt out things without thinking and can be pushy. Doesn't like to be told to do things. Zero filter.

Grows to 5'2", small body build. Named after one of the largest rivers in India.

(these guys are VERY WIP so not much to them)

Ada-Entrapta child, on the younger end. Adopted, trans woman, het. Does love robots and what not, helps their mom out a lot. Probably can run on little sleep and still be fine. Name was given to me by my good friend Dorku named after Ada Lovelace, a mathematician and first computer programmer. Very close with Onca

Luka and Felix-Catra's sons, adopted. Both magicats. Catra moves away from everyone and wouldnt really come into focus until much much later when Mira runs off. Luka and Felix idk ages yet but are only a year apart in age. Luka means light (he is one of Catra's lights now) and Felix is a cartoon cat. Would become close friends with Mira later on

(im too lazy to proof lmao and free to ask questions or change stuff up lmao god)

[welcome-to-afterlife]

Wannabe Challenge Kpop AU Headcanons

I know that no one requested this, but I had this idea stuck in my head for a while now. It took quite some time to get down, but I'm finally done!

Role: Leader, Main Vocalist, Center

Taehee was the first member of the group to be recruited by ST Entertainment. He had a charismatic yet soft aura that drew all the girls on audition day. Immediately, the entertainment company knew that Taehee would become part of their label.

However, it took him a good 5 years before the company decided that he was ready for debut. It was within this time that he learned how to avoid the entertainment industry's sleazy business practices, develop a strong image, and maintain constant motivation for debut. You could say he subconsciously preparing to he a leader by trying to himself afloat for 5 years.

Once he finally got to debut, Taehee was chosen to be the leader of the group. Although Hansol seemed like the more obvious choice, Hansol thought that Taehee would be a better fit since Taehee already knew a lot about the entertainment industry due to his experience. Besides, he was the only one who was mature and emotionally-equipped to lead a group.

As for Taehee's abilities, his strongest suit is his singing. While he wasn't the strongest singer at the start of his training, he ended up become one of the best vocalists in the company. His voice has a unique color that radiates smoothness with a hint of attitude. He's able to hit high notes, but he's a lot better at belting -- especially when he's feeling emotional.

Perhaps this is the reason that Taehee excels in elegant concepts. His graceful movements along with his princely facial expressions make him the star on the stage. Think of songs such as "I'm in Trouble" by NU'EST, "Blue Flame" by ASTRO, and "Not By the Moon" by GOT7. It's like he belongs on an icy throne in a golden palace.

Surprise, surprise: he gets the most lines in their songs. Usually it's not by a lot, but sometimes ST gives some of Biho's lines to Taehee (much to the everyone's dismay). He's never comfortable singing those lines and tries to negotiate to give Biho more lines, but it doesn't always work. He gets quite the backlash for it, but unfortunately it's out of his control.

When interacting with fans, Taehee is usually very warm and kind. He's constantly asking about everyone's health and well-being, nagging fans to keep themselves at top priority. He doesn't want fans to ruin their lives because of their love for him and his group. He's also very earnest and mature, almost like a guardian angel to his fans. Wherever they go, his heart is always with them.

In the group, he's basically the dad. He's always looking out for the other members (yes, even Yooha). Just like his fans, his members' well-being is top priority. In lives, you'll probably see him in the background cooking food, cleaning dorms, and or scolding the other members for doing dumb things (that last reason is why he's also very likely to appear in crack videos).

However, he appears most often in "sassy moment compilations" because of his reactions. Taehee has even gone viral because he just straight up rolled his eyes at a variety show when they asked him uncomfortable questions and threw not-so-subtle shade. From then on, he's been dubbed as the "sassy king".

For side projects, his main path is acting. Taehee is a really good actor who played the main male lead in a critically acclaimed K-Drama. He played the sly but sweet love interest in a historical drama. The audience are always amazed at his ability to adapt to the time period so accurately.... it's almost as if he's lived there himself?

Role: Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Vocalist

Originally, Yooha has started off as a model. However, staff from ST Entertainment saw Yooha and thought that his visuals would be perfect for the kpop business. They offered their business card to him and he decided to try out for fun. Fortunately, he nailed his audition and was admitted as a trainee immediately.

Yooha was the last person to join the company and had the shortest training time (1 year). His sudden arrival and decision to debut with the group created a rift between him and the other members. Taehee thought it was unfair that Yooha could debut with minimal training while Hansol was worried that Yooha's addition would affect the group's dynamic (in areas like line distribution, dance formation, etc).

However, he and the other members were forced to resolve their issues when he became Taehee's roommate at their dorm. Since it was Taehee's job to lead the group (including Yooha), the two had no choice but to bond.

Now before y'all yell at me that Yooha isn't main rapper material, just know that I had to give the position to someone. Secondly, Yooha has an alluring and deep voice voice that was perfect for rap. Also, he is really good at rapping in various beats and experiments with different flows. While he can do fast raps, he prefers to make ones that have a distinct rhythm and leave a lasting impact on the audience.

However, Yooha hadn't planned to debut as the group's rapper. His original role being the main dancer, but he jokingly rapped in an pre-debut interview and everyone fell in love with his voice. From that, ST Entertainment thought it would be best to make Yooha the rapper instead.

In fan interactions, Yooha is very slick and flirty. Whether it's in fanmeet, lives, or concerts, Yooha knows exactly how to steal the hearts of his fans. Just one wink is enough to make the entire stadium swoon over him.

However, he's also the crackhead of the group. If you search for the group's "crackhead moment compilations", 80% of the video will involve Yooha somehow. In fact, it's these moments that really boost his popularity within the group and skyrocket him to the 2nd most popular member in the group.

Sometimes, he manages to pull one over Taehee and becomes the most popular member. How does this happen? Well, whenever the group has a "bad boy"/sexy concept comeback, Yooha absolutely dominates the stage. Think of songs such as "Want" by Taemin, "7th Sense" by NCT U, and "Love Killa" by Monsta X. The sexy concept was made for him, so it's no surprise when everyone in the comments section thirsts over him. It's just enough to put him over the edge against Taehee in fan voting.

He also has the most risque outfits. Yooha has an amazing body and he knows it, so why keep it hidden? His wardrobe is filled with experimental pieces that show of his abs, forearms, and everything in between. It's the reason why he's voted "Best Dressed" on every voting app.

Yooha is also a smooth dancer. His fluidity and confidence amplifies his sex appeal on stage, which often causes fans to confuse him as the group's main dancer. He's also has killer facial expressions that maintain his striking stage presence, making it impossible to keep your eyes off of him.

When Yooha isn't rocking the stage, you'll probably see him on magazines and commercial shoots. Photographers just can't get enough of his visuals, so they constantly bring him back for more modeling. He'll even dabble his feet in web dramas, but it doesn't last for long due to the scheduling conflicts between the web dramas and his music career.

Position: Main Dancer, Main Vocalist, Producer, Face of the Group

Hansol started his music journey long before ST Entertainment. He had been creating music as early as elementary school (mainly him bashing wooden sticks on the table and strumming rubber bands). However, he really got to develop his passion on high school-- where he dedicated his time towards music production and music theory.

Thus, Hansol had his own YouTube channel where he created covers of different artists and snippets of songs that he created on his own. From that, he amassed a small following of 25K subscribers. This audience attracted ST Entertainment, who took a liking to his videos and asked him whether he wanted to be a trainee. Hansol gladly took the offer.

Hansol was the 2nd member to join ST and trained for 3 years. Although the company had given him the opportunity to debut immediately, Hansol wanted to wait until he reached his full potential.

While Hansol originally was the leader of the group (since he already had a fairly stable music presence), he had to product all their music. This ate up leadership time, which Hansol was having difficulty in managing. Besides, he thought that Taehee was more mature than him and thought Taehee would do a better job as a leader. Hansol ended up handing the leader role to Taehee before debut.

Hansol's production has been praised by critics, fans, and other producers. His vision for the song helps the group distinguish themselves from the other acts in the entertainment industry and create their own identities as a group. Sometimes he writes songs with Biho (or by himself) to better convey his emotions onto their group's album.

Hansol is the group's ace: he can sing, dance, and even rap. He's equally talented at singing and dancing, so he decided to take main positions for both skills. In his singing, Hansol has a high-pitched voice that makes it easy for him to hit high notes and belt to his heart's content. In fact, many of his lines in the songs are his adlibs (which give the song that extra spice).

Hansol's dancing style is sharp and energetic. There's a lot of power in his movements with playful facial expressions (in contrast to Yooha's powerful, sexy style). This allows him to steal the spotlight when the group has a playful and upbeat comback (think "Energetic" by Wanna One, "Sha La La" by Pentagon, and "BBUSYEO" by ONEUS). His bright grin is enough to light up the entire stadium while keeping fans engaged throughout the performance.

The group's debut turned out pretty successful thanks the Hansol's YouTube fanbase. With his enlarged presence, Hansol is the "Face of the Group"-- the most recognizable member to the general public. While he isn't the most popular within his group's fans, Hansol is the most liked across the general public.

Hansol's personality around fans is very bubbly. He loves playing up his cute, boyish charms to win over the fans (especially when they drool over Yooha). There's a lot of winking, heart signs, pouting, and hugs whenever Hansol interacts with his fans.

Within the group, Hansol is the baby. Although he isn't the youngest, he acts the most immature. He's always nagging the other members and trying to prove his manliness, but it's more like a puppy trying to intimidate a pack of wolves.

For side projects, Hansol would have a solo debut. He'd produce all the music on his album while collaborating with Biho for songwriting. Since it's his solo career, Hansol would have much more creative control-- allowing him to fully explore every corner of his artistry. He plans to continues his solo career long after the group disbands too.

Position: Lead Vocalist, Rapper, Songwriter, Visual, Maknae

Biho was the 3rd member to join ST Entertainment. Out of the 4, he was the only one who submitted a formal audition tape to ST Entertainment and got accepted through the traditional audtion process. What made his audtion special was that he performed his own song-- a love song to his future lover. The judges absolutely loved his vibe and voice, so they couldn't pass this opportunity.

When Biho became a trainee, he always felt insecure about his skills. Even though he was talented, Biho was training with the likes of Taehee and Hansol, who were already experienced and seasoned professionals. Biho thought he'd be holding his group back, but the other members assured him that his presence made a significant impact on the group.

And honestly, it really did because Biho wrote most of their songs. His lyrics were both thought-provoking and poetic. He was never afraid of writing music about the things on his mind (whether it was love, fear, anger, or sadness). However, editing the lyrics took a lot of time as Biho only wanted to make the best content for his fans. Sometimes he lets Hansol write music with him.

Biho's strength lies in his singing (like most of the other members). His voice is soft and breathy, almost like a lullaby wrapping you in a soft blanket. No matter how you're feeling, Biho's voice is guaranteed to calm your nerves and take to your safe place.

Biho is also known for his looks. Although Yooha is the group's top model, Biho's face is the perfect canvas for all types of makeup styles. Although he doesn't realize it, fans love the duality between his soft persona and his darker one. Many are surprised that Biho is able to make the switch for sexier concepts and absolutely die when he does.

However, Biho shines the most with soft boy concepts. It's the image that he's had for the longest and is most comfortable with. Besides, the more thoughtful and heartfelt songs are where his lyrics get to shine through-- making him extra happy. For reference, the best examples of soft boy songs that suits Biho would be "Spring Day" by BTS, "Don't Wanna Cry" by SEVENTEEN, "Blue Hour" by TXT.

In fan interactions, Biho is extremely warm and a tad bit shy. He's always blushing when fans compliment him and showers his fans with a bunch of love in return. He likes to take his fans' hands and sincerely thank them for their support because his group would be nothing without them.

In fact, Biho is the most likely to get emotional while performing. The fact that there are so many people who are willing to listen to his music and his message is something that he could barely dream of. He will be forever indebted to their kindness, which is why he tries go provide his fans with all a lot of content (lives, Q+As, pop-up fansigns).

In the group, Biho isn't much different. In fact, he's the member whose idol persona matches his real personality the most. He's always cheering hisnother members from the side and gushing about how amazing they are. Sometimes he likes to throw an occasional jab at Yooha though (especially when Yooha is feeling himself too much).

For side projects, Biho is working on a book! He already has a collect of poems that was published, which has recieved high praise from critics and other poets. He also spends time writing songs for other groups, especially ones that come from small, poor companies.

[svnflowervol666]

Hey!! Could you write an imagine where the reader is an artist and wakes up early, Harry is sleeping next to her and for a few minutes she's there watching him and then decides to draw him while he sleeps and when she's finishing Harry wakes up? Thank you so much ♥️

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of smut

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Like always, if you’re interested, let me know what you’d like for me to write next. Take care and tpwk.

Y/N wasn’t very sure how she’d managed to wake up before Harry considering how hard they partied last night. Her head pounded in her ears and she felt an overwhelming sense of dehydration in her throat. The events of the evening were somewhat blurry after Harry handed her a shot of something wretched and led her immediately to the dancefloor to work up a sweat. She knew judging from the fact that she was stark naked in the bed she shared with Harry and the fact that she could see her dress from the night before shimmering in the sunlight off in the corner of the room haphazardly that they’d at least made love to each other when they got home. Aside from that, her mind was drawing a blank.

Seeing as the blinding light from the harsh, early morning sun made it impossible to go back to sleep, she carefully removed the limp, ringed hand that was draped around her waist and wriggled her way over to her nightstand to grab her phone. Fuck, she thought to herself. Her battery was dead and she couldn’t be arsed to lean all of the way down to the ground to reach for her charger. After lying there for a moment and contemplating how to proceed with the morning, in which she decided she certainly would not be getting out of bed to start the day just yet, she reached a bit further past her phone for the sketchbook and pencil that Harry had gotten her for her birthday last year.

It was almost completely full of her drawings and doodles, something she prided herself in. Often times, she’d lose her sketchbook or spill her coffee on it before she could finish drawing in all of the pages. Maybe it was the fact that Harry had gotten this one for her which meant it was special, or maybe it was just luck, but she’d managed to hold on to this one almost down to the very last page. 

In an attempt to soothe her hangover without getting out of bed, she began drawing away. She started by finishing up the flower she had started the other day after saw the most beautiful bunch of daisies while on her daily walk with Harry. Sure, they were technically an invasive weed that took over greenery like wildfire, but Y/N always thought they were beautiful. 

When she’d perfected that one enough to her liking, she flipped the page and started another drawing. This one was also unfinished, and it was a landscape portrait of the bungalow she shared with Harry while on their vacation to Bora Bora last year. She’d been on many vacations and stayed in many nice houses since that trip, but this bungalow she’d never forget. It was where Harry took her to tell her that he loved her, though she hadn’t known that at the time. They had been having the time of their lives, drinking sugary, alcoholic beverages all throughout the day and lounging lazily by the ocean. Harry finally told her while they watched the sunset on their third night there. It slipped out faster and not as smoothly as Harry had imagined the moment in his head, but the overwhelming, swooning sensation he felt in his chest whenever he looked at Y/N made it impossible for the words to not spew from his lips. She’d never forgotten that trip because it was where she fell significantly more in love with Harry than she already had been.

There wasn’t much that needed to be done on the portrait of the bungalow, just some shading on the roof and a bit more detail on the waves that surrounded the structure. She finished that one fairly quickly then moved on to her next blank page. This one, she fucked up. What she had tried to draw one of her old pets from memory, but for some reason, it wasn’t looking right. She quickly scrapped the piece of paper and moved on to the next page, which was coincidentally the final page in her sketchbook.

She pondered for a moment on what idea in her head would earn the final spot in her book of drawings. She could try to draw her pet again? No, she shook her head softly to herself. Hers and Harry’s favorite table at the coffee shop that was down the block from their London apartment? No, she’d need to get a better look at the place before she attempted something like that. She looked around the now bright and sunny space of their bedroom, trying to find something that would shoot a spark in her brain and cause her to think of the perfect thing to draw. As she turned her head towards the sleeping, seemingly unconscious body that burrowed itself into the gigantic, down comforter beside her, it struck her.

Y/N propped herself up on her side so she could get a better look at the scene in front of her. Harry was sleeping the morning away, though she couldn’t say she blamed him since she didn’t even remember coming home last night (or was it technically this morning?). His face was completely covered by the huge down comforter that he’d hogged from her, but she didn’t mind. All that was visible of Harry was the top of his head, adorned with messy, chocolate-colored waves, and the outstretched palm of his left hand. That was it. His hand.

Her hangover had more or less subsided by now without the need of a greasy diner breakfast or a handful of headache medicine, so she was able to work diligently on her newest and final sketch. She traced over every crease and dip of his long, slender fingers, making sure no detail went unnoticed. Every ring, including the large, gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his ring and pinky fingers got their own moment in the spotlight. His bright yellow nail polish, the color that she’d picked out for him last week, was slightly chipped at the corners, but it only added to the uniqueness of the piece. Each knuckle she shaded with the closest attention. Unlike her old pet or the table at the cafe, she was almost certain she could draw this from memory, but a little reinforcement never hurt. Plus, she felt like she could stare at Harry’s hands for days on end without growing tired of them.

Harry’s hands were miracle workers for her. They’d held her through both her darkest and brightest days. They’d made her feel safe in times when she’d never felt so alone, and during big moments when she couldn’t be sad even if she tried. Harry’s hands cooked her breakfast on Sunday mornings, carried her to bed when she’d fallen asleep watching Netflix in the living room, massaged her tired feet after a long day of work, brushed her hair out of her eyes before kissing her goodnight each night, made her see stars as he pleasured her over and over again with his skillful fingers. So many times people overlook what hands do in a relationship, but not Y/N. 

It was right when she was shading the corner of Harry’s cross tattoo that was barely visible from beyond the comforter she felt the bed sheets rustle and the sweet creature beside her come to. The peaceful silence of Y/N doodling away was broken when Harry moved his hand, the one she had been drawing, towards his face to rub harshly at his emerald green eyes.

“Wha’ ‘re you doin awake? ‘ts so early,” she heard his groggy, morning voice pierce the walls of the room.

“It’s almost noon, Harry,” she responded softly, letting the sketchbook fall gently into her lap.

“Oh, shit,” the lanky brunette chuckled, “Wha’ did we do last night?”

“I was actually hoping you could tell me.”

“‘ve got no idea, princess,” Harry groaned before reaching over to pat her thigh, feeling the hard material of her sketchbook instead.

“You drawin’? Lemme see.”

He plucked the open notepad from her lap to examine what she’d been drawing while he was asleep. She didn’t feel embarrassed or like she needed to snatch the book away from him before he could see that she’d been drawing his hands whilst he slept. That was another thing Y/N loved about Harry, how she never felt shy or that she needed to hide her art from him. He always praised her work whenever he crossed paths with it, so she was always willing to share her latest masterpiece.

“M’ hand? You drew my hand while I was asleep?” Harry was still delirious from a combination of his hazy, half-asleep half-awake state.

“I love your hands,” she stated firmly but softly, “plus, it was the last page in my sketchbook so I wanted it to be of something important.”

“Hmm,” Harry pondered as he cased over the drawing once more, “I like this one, but I think I much rather prefer the one you drew of my co-”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Y/N interrupted his sentence and yanked the sketchbook from his grasp before placing it back on its home on the nightstand.

She took her rightful half of the comforter back from Harry and nestled herself back into bed, making sure to cozy right up into Harry’s warm, bare chest so they could have a proper, conscious cuddle before dreadfully starting their day. The two of them were adults now and while they were still granted the privilege of being able to party, they couldn’t stay in bed and waste the day away after a long night of drinking like they used to.

Harry traced soft circles on Y/N’s back with the same hand that she was drawing just minutes ago, almost lulling her back to sleep. He watched as her breathing evened out and her eyes began to droop despite her awareness that they had a late lunch planned with Anne and Gemma in a few hours. 

“Baby,” Harry beckoned her back to consciousness.

Her eyes blinked open quickly, unaware of how she’d almost went right back to sleep in Harry’s arms.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve got to meet up wi’ mum and Gem soon. ‘Need to get up.”

“Ten more minutes.”

This made Harry chuckle, seeing how she was acting like a grumpy teenager who refused to wake up for school in the morning. God, how he loved her.

“How about I show you just how important my hands are to you and then we hop in the shower, yeah? Sound like a plan?”

She opened one eye just slightly enough to see that Harry was giving her his iconic smirk that caused one of his dimples to shine through. Leave it to Harry to squeeze in a shag before lunch with his own mum.

She supposed she really couldn’t say no to that.

[hockeyblogg]

age - f.andersen

Author’s Notes: Hiyaa, so here’s the first part to ‘Age,’ I really hope you all like it & that it makes much more sense. I know on my last blog you all were hoping for part 3 and I’m hoping to show it to you this time. Hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: Angst, language, age gap, reader’s parents are assh*les and I’m sorry about that, (I’m sure your parents are sweethearts) Slight shade to Auston M*tthews but it’s not out of spite I swear lol.

**Also, the word “Manther” means ‘An older guy who dates women a lot younger than him’**

You were nervous.

No matter how much your boyfriend tried to reassure you, you were nervous.

Today would be the day where Freddie would finally meet your parents, and he personally was very excited. Ever since you met his parents last year, he’s been very eager to meet yours.

You had a wonderful time meeting his family, his mother immediately pulling you into a hug upon seeing you, “så du er hans lille blomst.” And his father politely shaking your hand while telling you how lovely it was to meet you. The visit went amazingly, and you were welcomed into his family very easily, but it’s tough to say that it would be the same with your family and Freddie.

Everyone knew you were quite a few years younger than Fred, six years to be exact, or as most people will fact check you. Apparently a twenty-four-year-old and a thirty-year-old can’t be together, or at least when your boyfriend is in the spotlight as much as yours, that’s what people will tell you. Two people who will forever remind you of that, are your parents, which is why you’re nervous for the outcome of tonight.

You’ve put it off for too long now, and you were actually hoping he would eventually let it go, but what you forgot was that Freddie was a goalie, and goalies are extremely patient.

Sighing, you run your hands down your dress, and try to calm yourself. We’ll just go in, eat, and get out, no extra visiting, no unnecessary lounging, just eat and leave.

“kæreste, you ready?” Fred pops in, fumbling with his watch and coming to stand behind you, you nod and softly smile at him, “You look handsome bubs.” He looks up and catches your eye in the mirror, “Thank you min elskede, and you look perfect.” You lightly blush but turn away before he can catch it, “We should go, we don’t want to be late.” Freddie chuckles, “I’m sure everything will go smoothly either way sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek and leads the way out of the bedroom and you slightly frown at his words. Hopefully everything goes smoothly.

Sitting in the car, you bite your lip, worrying about the possible outcome of this dinner.

Your parents have told you on multiple occasions that they thought Freddie wasn’t exactly “good” for you. By “good” they mean, your age and “mindset” as they called it. To them, because of your age gap they think Freddie is only using you for his benefit.

**

“You’re young and beautiful sweetie, of course a man of Freddie’s age is going to want to be with you, it’s like a boost to his career and his self-image-” Your mother was cut off by your father, “what your mother is trying to say is this man is just using you to make himself look good.”

“Dad!” You exasperated, “He’s not like that, and I’m sure that once you meet him-” It’s almost as if your father didn’t want to talk about it as he cut you off this time, “Like hell I’ll meet that little manther.” You take a deep breath as you try to calm yourself, “I know who Freddie is and what he’s like, dad. Until you want to get to know him as I do, then we’ll be back for a visit, we, not just me.” You got up after your little speech and left your parents’ home.

**

Flashback to present time and here you are, on your way to your parents’ house to hopefully have a nice, quick dinner.

As you pull up and Freddie parallel parks by the sidewalk, you look at him and grab his hand, squeezing it.

“Freddie,” he looks up at you, “Whatever happens tonight, if my parents love you, or…choose not to, just please remember that I love you so much, and I’m not going anywhere.” Freddie was getting ready to tease you but when he heard the sincerity in your voice he simply nods and pulls your hand up to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it, “I love you too, elsker.”

You both get out of Freddie’s car and walk hand in hand to the front door, knocking twice before it swings open and your parents come into view.

“It’s so nice to see you sweetie.” Your mother pulls you in for a hug and your dad just nods towards you, “Hi honey.” You sigh, knowing he’s still a bit angry from your last visit.

You turn to Freddie and grab his hand, “Mom, Dad, this is Freddie. Freddie, these are my parents.” Freddie smiles and holds his hand out for them to shake, your mother takes it but doesn’t say anything further and your dad just nods at him before turning away and walking to the kitchen, “Come, the food is getting cold.” Your mother follows after him, and mumbles something to your father.

“I’m sorry about that.” You whisper to Freddie and he shrugs, “It’s fine, some fathers are very protective, come on kæreste.”

The dinner was awfully quiet and filled with slightly awkward silence and you were just about ready to ask Freddie if he was done when your father spoke up, “So Freddie, you play hockey, yes?” Freddie nodded and wiped his face before answering, “Yes I do, I play with the Toronto Maple Leafs. Do you watch, or play?” Your father shook his head, “Nope, never liked hockey.” Freddie simply nods and takes a sip of his water.

“How old are you Freddie?” Fred just about chokes on his water at the sudden question but manages to keep it at bay, setting down his glass, he clears his throat, “Well um, I’m thirty years old sir.” Your father continues, “Thirty years old and dating a twenty-four-year-old, funny.” Before you can speak up, Fred does, “Why’s that funny?”

“Oh, you know, because everyone knows that men your age only go for women younger than them because it makes them look good, and considering your “job,” your father puts quotations around the word “job” and smirks, “it’s kind of obvious.” Fred shakes his head, “Well, you’re wrong, why is it so hard to believe that I genuinely care about your daughter?”

Your father stands up and places his hands on the table, leaning toward you and your boyfriend, “Because Freddie, I know what kind of man you are, I’ve read all about you; you’re friends with Auston Matthews aren’t you, during your first couple seasons with the Leafs you were always partying, sleeping around, being a poor role model that’s for sure, I bet it was that Matthews kid that convinced you to ask my daughter out wasn’t it, bet you were just there to get inside her pants.”

You and your mother both look at him incredulously.

“Dad!”

“Y/F/N!”

Your father continues, venom in his words, “Listen here Freddie, a man of your age shouldn’t be with my daughter, you’re way too old and in my opinion, my daughter can do so much better than a washed up player like yourself.”

You stand up this time, finally hearing enough, “Dad stop! You have no right to talk to him that way, and you also have no say in whoever I choose to be in a relationship with,” you hear Freddie get up and walk towards the door, hearing it open then close, “I love Freddie, and Freddie loves me, and if you can’t accept that then we’re leaving and not coming back until you do.” You turn around as well, ignoring your father’s demands to stay, slipping your shoes on and jogging out the door.

You hop into the car and as soon as you buckle in, you both are driving away.

“Fred,” You face him and put your hand over his, “are you okay?” Fred nods but doesn’t say anything further, and you sigh, squeezing his hand and not letting go until you arrive at your apartment.

_

Stepping out of the elevator, you follow behind Fred, who unlocks your apartment door and you both step in and take your shoes off.

Freddie hasn’t said a word since you left your parents’ and you were beginning to worry; you really didn’t want him to take your father’s words seriously.

Freddie, unfortunately, was.

Freddie had been thinking about your fathers’ words all the way back to your shared apartment, and the more he thought about them, the more they made sense to him.

Ever since you and he got together almost four years ago, people have not let you both forget how big your age gap was. He has dealt with the teasing of his teammates at the beginning of your relationship, the glances that people would give him whenever you both were out in public, and the constant tweets or comments on any of your or Freddie’s posts. Having to endure that from your parents was almost like the last straw to him.

It’s clear that almost everyone thought you two didn’t belong together and if Freddie was being honest with himself, every single time he received a glance, every single time he had an older creepy CEO at one of the many maple leafs’ galas come up to him and ask “how’d you get a doll like that” and “where can I get one,” every single time someone commented on how old he is or looked, the more he felt guilty and selfish.

Who did he think he was to keep you all to himself, all for himself? That wasn’t fair to your friends, your family, and more importantly, it wasn’t fair to you. You deserve to be free, to be doing things other people your age are doing; traveling, going out every weekend, having girls’ days or nights, not staying committed to an old man like himself.

Instead, you’re in bed by ten because you have to make sure he’s up on time for practice, your parents are mad at you because you’re dating him, you have almost zero friends because you’re too caught up in events and games that you attend with him, you aren’t living your life the way you should be and for that, Freddie feels responsible.

Freddie sighs as he comes out of the bathroom and you look up from where you’re sitting, “Fred, are you okay?” he doesn’t answer your question, just comes and sits on the edge of the bed, facing away from you.

“I think we need to take a break…” he starts, and you panic inside, quickly hopping up and coming around, kneeling beside him, “What? Fred, bub...we, we don’t.” You grab his hands and try to catch his eye, but he’s turning away from you, “Y/N, it’s not fair okay, it’s not right.” He stands up and walks a few feet away, leaving some distance between you two, “I’ve been keeping you from everything, I’ve been holding you back, and I just can’t anymore.” You stand and try to take a step closer to him, but he takes one back, and you feel a pang in your chest, “Fred look, if this is about my parents-”

“It’s not just your parents, Y/N, it’s everyone,” he cuts you off and slightly raises his voice, “it’s the stares, the mumbles, the snickers, it’s like almost everyone is so against us being together, nobody wants us to be together..” tears are pooling in your eyes, and you sniff, “Who cares what everyone thinks Freddie, all that matters is what we want, it’s our relationship, not theirs. Don’t you want us to be together?” You ask him, but he just looks down, not meeting your eyes.

What could he say? Of course, he wanted you two to be together, he fucking loves you, but against his better judgement, he’s allowing everyone else to win this time. He couldn’t keep you from your parents, your friends, the world. He just couldn’t anymore.

Your shoulders slump at his silence and you allow the tears to fall down. After a beat of silence, other than your soft crying, Freddie makes his way to the door, “You can stay here, I’ll go stay at Auston’s.”

Hearing the front door slam shut, you fall to the floor and breakdown, your tears now flowing freely and your shoulders racking with sobs.

You allow yourself to breakdown for a while, until your sobs calm to sniffles, and your tears are gone, the last of them dried on your cheeks. As you sit there, you decide that you can’t stay at the apartment, it’s Freddie’s after all, and besides, if you stay it will just remind you of what you had.

With that thought in your head, you grab your phone, sending a quick text to Steph asking if there’s a spare room you can stay in until you get a place of your own, of course she asks what happened but you only tell her that you’ll explain later to which she tells you she’ll be there in an hour.

Grabbing two suitcases from your and Freddie’s closet, you pack up all your clothes. After you’re done there, you go into the bathroom and grab your personal items, putting those in a backpack. You’ve only lived with Freddie for almost two years, so you don’t have much things.

You grab your phone and text Freddie, telling him that you can’t take the apartment, and that you’ll be staying with Mitch and Steph for now. You put on your backpack and grab the two suitcases, making your way downstairs and to the front door. Steph messages you to tell you she’s almost there and you check around the apartment for any last things you may have forgotten.

After finding nothing upstairs and in the living room, you check the front closet and see a pair of shoes at the bottom, going to grab them you notice something inside and dig your hand in, bringing it back out you almost drop the item, and you almost don’t want it to be what you think it is.

Using your other hand, you drop the shoes and open the little blue box, coming face to face with the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Tears are flooding your eyes again and you cover your mouth to stop yourself from crying.

Ping!

Steph: I’m outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

så du er hans lille blomst = so you are his little flower.

[keijikunn]

Yellow

pairing: bokuto koutarou x neutral!reader genre: overall fluffy, there’s this tiny bit of angst but nothing too hurtful  summary: the yellow things in love that reminds you of bokuto koutarou word count: ~2.5k author’s note: happy birthday to my favourite loud boy! i know i’m a bit late, but here it is my special fic to our owl

WARNINGS: mentions of car crash

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               a life with bokuto koutarou is painted with yellow. like the sunshine on your skin, a cold lemonade on a hot day, or a smile face on every text exchanged. a life him his was never dull, he just… brings color into it. in all honesty, you were nothing but blessed to have such a great man on your side through the ups and downs of life.

              waking up next to him – with his arms securely wrapped around your waist, his soft breathes hitting your neck and his head on your chest – always filled you utter joy and warmth. even when his lips let snores escape or how his hair would tickle your face, the peace on his features was enough to melt your heart. and when the rays of sunshine illuminated both of you? that was the moment koutarou looked absolutely like an angel – and perhaps he is.

              “good morning, love” his raspy voice has never failed to pull the strings of your heart, the same ones bokuto knew all too well – after all, years of relationship taught him enough about you.

              “good morning, kou” you replied with a quick peck on his forehead, letting a hand run through the locks of gray and black hair. the man let out a content hum as he pulled you even closer, that way he could kiss the soft skin of your neck just the way he knew you liked.

              as odd as it might be, mornings were the only moment bokuto would be the calmest he could. the aura around him would be a pastel yellow. soft, discreet, but lovely. the most tender and loving gestures are exchanged in a half-sleep conscience – but still the purest actions. your own world is filled with such color, your bedroom – despite the blue grey-ish shades on the walls – was a safe haven illuminated with it.

              koutarou, however, wasn’t a simple man. therefore, he hadn’t in himself only one variation.

              bokuto was also as yellow as your highlighters: bright, flashy, but helpful with sort of a guidance within it – just like the actual object. he reminded you of it because of the many sleepless nights both of you spent during your exam’s seasons in college, even though he was not much of a help and his schedule required him to wake up early.

              “I might not be a college student, but I need to hype my significant other” he commented on the first time he stayed up until 3 in the morning with you, sitting on the kitchen table scanning with his eyes through the many pages scattered around. “it’s hard, but I believe in you. and I can’t let you pull an all nighter, you’ll be absolutely shit on your afternoon classes”

              just like that, koutarou would make you company in silence. sometimes he’d fall asleep resting his head on his folded arms over the table, in others he’d try to help you organize what you’ve already been through. and on the top of all of that, bokuto koutarou would ground you whilst your mind you’d be drowning in anxiety and self-doubt.

              the same way you’d highlight important things on your books and notes, bokuto would highlight the best qualities of you. pointing your smartness, beautifulness, gentleness and loving personality. this man would not let you forget how far you’ve come, all hardships you’ve won against and how your future is going to be as bright the yellow pen that you constantly use.

              by himself, kou would be under the spotlight as the great athlete he is. you, however, couldn’t help but give him the focus he deserved. he was inspiring to you, always trying to do better, to be the best version of yourself. in your life, bokuto koutarou was a highlighter, but also something highlighted so you can – and will always – remember his importance and meaning to you.

              there are these certain shades of colors that just don’t look as pretty as others, but are as just important to compose the whole one. like any other people in the world, bokuto also had the slightest ugly tones of yellow.

              the sunset and sunrise can be both renewing and melancholic. the hue that transitions to orange has two different meaning when you’re talking about your boyfriend: can be both the argument and the reconciliation. the contraposition between these two is essential to understand why one color brings two types of feelings.

              “koutarou, you aren’t being reasonable” you argued certain night, it was after a msby game – which his team won. it was a hazy memory to you, everything passed by in a blur. at one time you remembered hugging bokuto as the two of you celebrated the end of the game, then all you could see and hear was him dragging you out of the commemoratory party.

              “how not, y/n?! that guy was fucking touching you” kou’s voice was loud, as he always is, but that volume wasn’t filled with love or excitement; no, all you could hear was angriness and jealousy. “and you weren’t doing a thing to stop him! you acted like your boyfriend wasn’t there”

              “it wasn’t like that, kou!” the scream match wasn’t going anywhere with both of you stressed, with a deep breathe, you held eye contact with him. “I tried to stop him! tetsu saw me pushing his hands from me, but he ignored whatever I did! he still touched me and all I could do is act as if nothing was wrong, or else I’d be the hysterical significant other”

              “c’mon, y/n, you’ve never really cared about what the media would say about you” bokuto mocked as he rolled his eyes, your heart clenched at those words. they weren’t true, how could you tell him about how you felt reading mean comments online? you treasured the bright smile he had, it was enough for you to keep going while receiving those kinds of insults.

              “you know what, koutarou? I’m going to my friend’s house tonight. we are not going anywhere right now” with that, you left your shared apartment with the jacket you were wearing and the cellphone on your pocket.

              leaving bokuto for the night was awfully painful. each day, before you fall asleep, the man’s embrace was like a sunset, a way to conclude your day. the explosion of orange, red and yellow as the sky grows darker was a signal that another milestone was completed with koutarou by your side.

              arguments between you two were exactly like watching, by yourself, the sun hiding under the horizon after having company for so long. it felt wrong, but sometimes it would unfortunately happen, because no couple was perfect. but, what made bokuto and you different from others was the way that always the sunrise would come with closure of whatever hurtful feelings were reminiscent.

              later on the next day, you’ve returned to your home. bokuto’s shoes were organized by the entrance of your apartment – contrary to the other night, when he just took them off and kicked aimlessly. the rice cooker was on, you could even smell the cleaning products you use around the house: an indication that kou did some of the chores you had to delay to attend his game.

              “I’m home” you announced rather quietly, eyes scanning around in order to find your boyfriend. he emerged from the kitchen, a basket full of clean clothes on his grip and a tired expression on his beautiful face. “what… are you doing?”

              “I know you use Friday evenings to do some chores, and since I’ve dragged you to my game you couldn’t do them, so I decided to be helpful at least once” he answered with a small smile. you could tell koutarou was tired – maybe feeling his muscles ache after such an intense game or just because he couldn’t sleep without you. “akaashi gave me the biggest lecture ever to knock some sense into my head, I wasn’t being fair with you”

              “neither was I” the aftermath of every argument between you two would be like this: silently, spoken in whispers and reluctant touches. “I should’ve told you how I truly felt about those online comments… we’re supposed to share our worries, right?”

              “yeah… and I should be more understanding about your fears and insecurities” koutarou placed the basket on the floor and stepped closer to you, a timid hand reaching out for you own, which you obliged quickly. “sorry, love. i had no right in yelling at you”

              “it’s okay, baby” a smile crept on your face, your other hand brushes aside the tip of his hair over his forehead (being at home with kou meant seeing him with his hair down, it was a beautiful sight). “I’m sorry too”

              as your lips touched once again, your own little world, where only you and bokuto were allowed to, was painted with the most beautiful sunrise. because that was what a relationship is: every disagreement ends with a reconciliation, a new day would begin from that. you two learned with a few painful sunsets that, after a fight, the way the sun would come up would be even prettier than the day before.

              the most unusual shade of yellow in bokuto koutarou would probably be the same one as from warning signs. this simple association emanates all worry and fear that lays on the deepest part of koutarou – and you thanked god you don’t usually see it. his emo modes back in high school managed to hide the feelings behind his lack of motivation after many failures in a row; now, he shone bright yellow warning signs every time his heart wasn’t at ease.

              despite of that, no emo mode would have prepared you to see the restless and worried features on bokuto’s face when you opened your eyes on a cold day. all your body hurt as your chest raised and fell from your breathing patter, the lights above you weren’t making the pounding headache of yours any better.

              “y/n, love, how are you feeling?” koutarou asked frantically, needy for answers so his brain could finally calm down.

              “where… am i?” you uttered, the words almost getting stuck on your dry throat.

              “you’re at the hospital, babe” with that information, numerous scenes rushed back to your mind. how you were on the bus on your way home, the way it drifted on the street covered with a thin layer of snow and the side you were sat colliding against a lamp post. “you were on a car crash, do you remember?”

              “yes, sort of…” still a bit confused, you turned your head to completely face your boyfriend. you could tell by the reddish skin around his eyes that he had cried and judging by his clothes – the msby track attire – that he was on a match before rushing to the hospital. “did you finish the game?”

              “are you insane, y/n?” bokuto whined shaking his head, the grip on your heads tightening a bit. “how could I play volleyball knowing that the love of my life was hurt and on their way to the hospital? my coach allowed to leave as soon as the first set was over. when- when he told me you were involved in a car crash, I was so worried that you’d leave me- and seeing you laying on this bed makes everything so much more intense that-”

              “hey, kou” you raised your hand to cup his wet cheeks, the tears once again started to stream from his eyes and that was one of the worst views you’ve had: his yellow eyes dull and watery. that sight would never match the ball of sunshine bokuto truly is. “I’m here, right? I woke up, see? I’m here, holding your face as we speak. the worst have already passed”

              “I was so afraid, y/n…” he confessed quietly, leaning into your touch to ground himself. “I love you lots, babe, I am so damn glad you’re alive”

              “I wouldn’t go anywhere without you, bo… you don’t have to worry”

              bokuto was shining a bright yellow, indicating his wariness and worry, for the rest of the time you spent at the hospital. the big warning sign on his mind was put aside as soon as all doctors assured him you were fine, completely healed after almost a month after the incident.

              even if that shade wasn’t a pretty one that bokuto has in himself, that makes him exactly the man you are head over heels with. he cares for you, he worries for you, he would do anything in a heartbeat just to make dure you were fine. koutarou gave all of him to you when you started dating, just the same way you did to him.

(the yellow warning signs would only appear years later when your first kid got sick for the first time)

              and last, but no least, the most beautiful, breathtaking hue of yellow was the exact one he always shows you: his eyes. the way they’d look at you with such adoration and fondness, like he was screaming with his sight “this person next to me is the love of my life”, “I love you”, “you’re everything to me”.

              this kind of shining yellow summarized koutarou perfectly: the excitement when he’s playing the sport he absolutely loves, the happiness whenever he is around his friends. but, on the top of everything else, the state of being completely – both mentally and sentimentally wise – filled with the purest emotions he could gather. that only happened with you by his side.

              through the ups and downs of adulthood, you and bokuto faced them together as a couple, as best friends, as growing people. as every single day passed by, both of you were completely sure that this situation – you and him against the world – needed to last forever. you two needed to wake up illuminated by rays of sunshine cracking through the curtains of your bedroom; have in each other’s embrace every sunset and sunrise, eve the ugly ones; put every single yellow sign up whenever the other was in danger.

              and the newest thing you added on your mental list like a masterpiece painted by your love was the way koutarou’s eyes shined so bright while kneeling on your knee. you saved in your heart the image of him holding out a black velvet box with the most beautiful ring inside, his hair down – the same way you love – and wearing his pajamas.

              “will you marry me?” that sentence came in a blow, your knees buckling as your arms found their way around his broad shoulders. the tears of joy stained his shirt as you exchanged words of ‘I love you’ and ‘yes’ between sobs and fits of laughter.

              your world was already full of color, but bokuto koutarou happened to make everything brighter and, at last, complete.

[twoshadesofcanadianflag]

Midnight (Nemuri Kayama)xFem!Reader - Ballroom Date

Here's something silly I wrote for a sweet little bean who has been blessing me with commissions for the past two years. I hope it was allright. ✌️😊💖💖💖

------

"Honey, that brow won't obey by cussing at it."

"It's the last chance it gets before I bring out an axe."

“Honey, we don’t own one.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

Nemuri couldn’t help her giggles, glancing at your battle from her periphery. You’d both spent the better part of an hour preparing for tonight and usually the simple act of putting on make-up wouldn’t have posed too much of a problem for either of you (and obviously not for Midnight). And, ironically, while today’s look was certainly more extravagant than what you were used to, taming the additional flare wasn’t even the part that gave you trouble! Infuriatingly enough, it was the defining and filling out the eyebrows that decidedly seemed to elude your skill right at the worst possible moment. Of all things…… You swore you had done them atleast enough times that it had absolutely no business being this difficult. The snickering sounds from your girlfriend did not help.

Nemuri did try to keep her focus on her own task of the eyeliner (or just not stabbing her cornea with the damn thing), but it was beginning to prove very near impossible. She turned to you, a soft smirk on her lips as she snatched the brow pencil from your hand and cradled your jaw in her palm, a soft command for you to turn. "Excuse me, miss, I'm going to have to ask you to lay off your attack. Such ferocity on that beautiful face borders on a felony and I’d positively loathe to take you into custody right before the lovely date I was promised."

“Know what? Just for stress relief, I really wouldn’t mind your way of custody right about now.”

“_____, don’t tempt me. We’re on a time limit here.”

“I was talking about knocking me out cold, but whichever works for you, darling.” You grinned, earning a sharp poke smack dab on the center of your forehead.

“Oh? Then push it at your own peril.”

Despite your sigh, you smiled, closing your eyes as you relaxed against her touch. "Thank yooooou, Nemuri." You laughed, "Phew boy, off to a delightful start. This is what I pay for fancying it up."

A gentle smile rose to Nemuri’s cheeks, curling the supple cherry lips as she continued to work on your face with a huff. “Oh hush, happens to the best of us. I’m sure I wouldn’t be even a quarter as good at face-painting if it wasn't literally a part of my hero image. By now it’s probably so hardwired into my spine that my hands will try to do winged eyeliners in my sleep and I’ll poke my damn eye out.” She mused, leaning close to your face as she switched to apply your eyeliner. “With my luck, anyhow.”

You hummed, surrendering with a soft smile as you allowed Nemuri to finish the rest of your face. You both still had clothes to strapple into and hair to wrangle into shape, so any time saved was precious in your book.

And Nemuri would be first to admit it that she couldn’t wait to see you, in the finished ensemble and with that glowing smile of yours, in the moody lighting of the dance floor.

------

It had felt like such a weird and very much extra idea at the time, back when you had suggested the idea of ballroom dancing to Nemuri. It certainly didn’t occur to you before and Nemuri was stretched so thin already as she was, what with balancing her teaching duties and hero work, that she rarely had the energy or the brain power left for much else besides snuggling up beside you whenever the time allowed.

And neither of you would trade these moments for the world. Especially how endearing Nemuri was out of her extravagant and strict hero persona and in her cuddly PJs, hair an adorably messy floof and with that positively dreamy look she got whenever you kissed. Her cheeks a precious shade of rosy, her eyes hooded and ever so slightly glistening, her lips parted just the tiniest bit, the way she had difficulty finding her words, the way she clung to you as if in fear that she’d drift away if she let up for even a moment…… As alluring as her dominating streak was, seeing the unshakably beguiling Nemuri, with her iron-clad confidence and unfaltering poise, become putty in your hands to such a degree was equally breathtaking in your humble opinion.

And so, while these moments were lovely indeed, the idea had come to you as you’d wondered if the two of you could find something different to do together. It had also been a while since you had gone to a proper date, so when you brought her the idea to visit the practice of one of the dancing clubs nearby, it was a welcome breath of fresh air in-between your hectic everyday lives.

While it did come with the usual trappings of any type of dance (i.e, borderline brutal exercise, needle-like precision, getting the hang of body awareness and how to make your body move in specific ways that felt so weird or difficult to grasp at times), it quickly became almost addicting. The rush as you'd immerse into the music and the movement felt very near natural, the interplay with each other when you could play out the moods of different songs --be it the passionate and aggressive nature of paso doble and tango, longing with a tinge of melancholy in waltz or the playfully romantic swing and contemporary pop-- the level of exhilaration was always palpable between the two of you.

And so, here you were: at the ball hosted by your fellow dancer Hirano-san, in celebration of All Hallow’s Eve. You’d laughed when she insisted it to be called that instead of Halloween, but you had to admit it was atleast a nice little change to have it be something a little fancier in contrast to all the cheesy (if cute) decorations and themed items stores pumped out seemingly left, right and center. Right behind the Christmas themed stuff, of course.

This fanciness extended to the dress code as well; Nemuri had really gone all-out with her dress that, while flared, hugged her curves in just the right ways, glimmered in soft tones of tangerine and rose-gold and with sparkling skin-tight black sleeves and a hem that reached just past her ankles. Topped with her hair on an elegant, high bun and glimmering hair pins and she was positively a vision for the eyes. You almost felt modest in your long, black number that just about reached your calves and flared only slightly: you’d learned the hard way to not wear too form-fitting bottoms after slipping on your heels and into a split (the team certainly wouldn’t let you forget it even if you tried) and too flowy garbs seemed to always tangle with you and trip you on your face instead. You never knew just how much survival stradegy could be involved into dancing…...

Simple or not, it did make for a nice, sleek contrast though, filling you with a sense of pride when you’d walked into the ballroom arms linked, collecting the stares of the entire room.

“And there they are!! Trust Kaya-chan and _____-chan to make a grand entrance fashionably late.” Hirano-san chuckled loudly as she approached the two of you, hugging the both of you tightly before lifting her hands on her hips with a playful huff. “You almost make the rest of us look bad, hopefully there’s enough spotlight left for the rest of us mortals.”

“Perhaps you ought to earn that spotlight, eh?” Nemuri grinned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Fate favors the bold and all that.”

“Excuse you, Midnight, keep that attitude up and you won’t need to expect an invitation next time.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Right as you are, you might not want to test it.”

“Evening to you too, Hirano-san,” You chirped in, moving Nemuri’s arm around your waist instead to have a little breathing room. “Good to see you’ve wrangled in the newbies so well.” Hirano-san sighed in mock exasperation at that, “Sensei really picked the right time to take her sick leave, what in the world would she do without me?” she laughed and gestured over her shoulder towards a group of younger pairs. “I kid, I kid, the new kids are so damn sweet and polite, I’m sure I couldn’t get them to wild it up if I tried.”

“Aww, how adorable!!”

“I mean, we do need a balance for you and the rest, Kaya-chan. Somebody needs to act the classy part.”

“How dare you! I’ll have you know, I’m plenty classy when the situation calls for it!!”

You giggled at the banter of Nemuri and Hirano-san, before walking towards the dance floor. A handful of your youngest pairs already claimed the first turn, the playful notes of swing caressing your ears as you looked on at their performance. You felt so proud of them; many of them had worked to the bone for this night, and seeing even the shyer little beans bounce and skip with confident smiles and playful twirls, it truly warmed your heart. The eyes of one of the boys-- Roromiya-kun’s --met up with yours mid-dance, smiling happily and shooting you an exaggerated wink and a thumbs-up. You chuckled, answering with a peace sign of your own. That little goofball…...

Before you knew it, the song shifted and you could see that mischevious glint in Nemuri’s eyes as she walked up to you, delicately grabbing your hand and lifting it towards her lips.

“Our song has arrived, darling. May I?” She smiled with that low, almost purring voice, kissing your knuckles softly. All the while her eyes were squarely on yours.

You felt the blush coming and the shiver racing up your spine, but you fought it, smirking back.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Game on, honey. You’ll have to do more than that.

------

You should’ve expected as much. You really should have, once the song had shifted (a faster type of tango, one of her particular favorites), but the way Nemuri led you in the middle of the dance floor, right into the focus of the lights, took you by surprise against your better judgement. You could feel anxiety rising in your throat; while familiar, this wasn’t a song you had any ready choreo in mind. Some of the other pairs moved to the side and even stopped, eyes trained to the two of you, curious to see what’s next.

And, goodness gracious, was there something to see.

Taking a small distance from you at first, Nemuri gracefully extended her arm towards you, her dress flaring around her like rivers of molten amber. With strong, assured strides she approached, taking your hand in hers as she pulled you sharply against her stronger, slightly taller frame and led you into one swirl after the other across the dance floor. You almost felt dizzy, grateful to be leaning against her during the constant motion. Nemuri’s moves were powerful with her turns and whenever she snuck a glance into your eyes, with that beguiling grin of hers, you felt your legs almost turn into jelly.

The song reached it’s bridge before the final chorus and it was then that Nemuri pulled you into a sharp spin and dipped you down. This pulled a small gasp from you, eyes wide as her strong hand gripped firmly on your back. She leaned down, giving your ear a gentle blow and making you bite your lip to keep in the small moan. “Where did all that spark disappear, darling?” She purred, chuckling against your earlobe. “You’re such an adorable little kitten when you’re like this.”

You yanked yourself out of your stupor, biting your lip as you answered her gaze with your own sharp one. You felt the song climbing towards the grand final chorus and you’d be damned if you let Nemuri have her way with you on this dance floor without making her work for it.

Gripping her hand tighter in your palm, you sharply shifted your positions so it was now you who held Nemuri, pulling her into a gliding movement across the dance floor. You snuck a glance at Nemuri as you twirled her in your arms, unable to help your grin when you saw her wide-eyed for the first time in the night.

Oh, you’ve seen nothing yet.

Just when the chorus reached its peak, you lifted Nemuri up, twirling her in wide circles as your arms held her up by her thighs. Pride swelled in your chest; seems the brutal exercise had paid off because, while not at all easy, you were impressed with just how stably you could hold (the more muscled) Nemuri up so high. You could audibly hear the gasps and cheers around you, though for you, the highlight was absolutely the expression of your girlfriend. Nemuri’s cheeks had gone a bright cherry red, heavenly blue eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, unable to answer the wide smirk undoubtedly splitting on your face.

The chorus started to calm and, with a few sharp turns for good measure, you dipped Nemuri as the song reached its end. The audience you had drawn erupted into cheers and whistles, though neither of you could pay that much attention.

Nemuri looked up at you, her face flushed, eyes slightly glossy, shaky breaths escaping and her chest rising and falling as you held her in your grip; a positively delicious sight that sent throbbing heat pooling down your core.

You leaned down to kiss her ear lightly, a throb racing between your thighs at the shiver wracking her frame.

“The evening’s still young, sweetheart; and trust me, I can do this all night.”

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Seventeen

length: 3k

tag list: @hewwo-from-the-other-side

prophecy masterlist

Strolling arm in arm with Seonghwa, the kingsguard of Ateez's powerful monarch, was not a situation you had ever expected to be in, not in a million years.

But yet, here you were, clutching onto the tall, handsome man as he led you through hallways and down great wooden staircases. Really, you didn't know what you were more nervous about, being in the spotlight in front of hundreds of people, or seeing Wooyoung dressed like this.

Your gown, an exquisitely made garment just for you, fits your form beautifully. The skirt sways gently with every step you take and every so often, you swear you catch the stitched butterflies fluttering with ease.

"Yeosang enchanted the butterflies," Seonghwa explains quietly. "They gave me quite the fright too when I saw them moving."

You smile, thinking of Yeosang whispering softly to the fabric and watching as the rose pink butterflies come to life.

Before long, you're both stood in front of the great oak doors that lead into the main hall. Seonghwa adjusts his position, putting his heels together and straightening his back. You can tell he's done this countless times before; he knows exactly how to carry himself and you would expect absolutely nothing less from the man who exudes regality.

"I don't know if I can do this, Seonghwa." You exhale sharply, tightening your grip on the kingsguard's arm.

"Of course you can!" He gives you a small, reassuring smile. "All you have to do is walk, and sit. When Wooyoung comes to you and offers to dance, you accept, and then you dance."

"I'm- I'm not cut out for fancy stuff like this." You say, looking up at him with sad eyes. "I'm just a nasty little street thief."

Seonghwa scoffs.

"You think a street rat would ever wear something as beautiful as this? Nonsense! The past is the past, Iris. You're one of us now."

Something about Seonghwa's words calms you, the thought of being accepted by (almost) everybody in the castle warming you to the heart. In a sense too, he's right. The shades of your old life had been completely cast out, starting with Yeosang giving you a proper home, and Hongjoong giving you a job of sorts.

Really, you had it all.

But the insatiable hunger for more still burned within you, and no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind, it would come back ten times louder.

Seonghwa reaches out and knocks firmly on the door, and immeditately, both of them are pulled open.

You stand there, mouth agape, taking in the scenery before you.

The great hall has been completely transformed, from an empty, lonely space to a bustling center of hospitality and entertainment.

On the far left, where Hongjoong's brilliant throne is, sits a long table, with space for nine people. In the center, is a smaller, but no less impressive version of the throne, where you assume the king himself will be sitting.

Off to the side of that, is a rectangular platform, upon which is Mingi, expertly playing his lute whilst accompanied by three other men playing various instruments you couldn't name. The rest of the hall is full of grand oak tables, each one lined with people chattering and singing along loudly with Mingi's song. Every table is graced with an abundance of hot food and goblets of ale. Whole roasted pheasants, hogs, mountains of golden roasted potatoes and boiled carrots covered every single surface and filled the air with a delicious aroma.

You spot Yeosang and Wooyoung occupying two chairs on the top table, conversing with each other, probably about the prophecy. You also spy San admist the guests, who laugh heartily as he speaks to them. Perhaps a jester is more than jokes after all.

At the end of the table is a sturdy young man with chesnut brown hair, who looks incredibly familiar to you, but you know you've never met him. Next to him is Yunho, who you grin at, happy to see a familiar face. He doesn't reciprocate your smile, instead giving you a small wave. You pray that he hasn't noticed the stolen textbook.

Seonghwa keeps you closely by your side as you glide into the hall and the silence in the room becomes abundantly clear.

Everybody is watching you.

All the guests take their seats and they sit like obedient children, observing as the stoic, cold-faced kingsguard accompanies you to your seat at the head table.

For some of them, this is a completely new experience; to see Seonghwa leading a beautiful woman to the most importaant table in the room. But for the older attendees, it is a sight they haven't seen since the passing of the Queen.

It's only when you're sat, Hongjoong's empty seat to your right and a giddy Yeosang to your left, that you realise you were holding your breath the entire time. Seonghwa tucks your chair in gently, and takes his own place on the other side of Hongjoong's vacant space, with Wooyoung faintly blushing to his right. The noise in the hall picks back up again, allowing you to quietly converse with your mentor.

"You look positively beautiful, my little student." Yeosang beams at you, and you shyly smile at him.

"You look rather dashing yourself, Yeosang." There's no lie; his brilliantly blonde hair is styled (for once) so it trails ever so slightly down the back of his neck, his outfit makes a start contrast to his usual attire, although he has opted to keep his signature white shirt, but over the top is fitted, beige jacket with embellishments of gold down the line of buttons, and leading down to his wrists.

"Do you like the butterflies?" He asks, a glint of pride behind the eyes. "I thought you would like them."

"Yes, Yeosang." You nod. "They're very pretty."

Suddenly, a hush falls over the room once more, and you guess that can only signify the arrival of a certain person.

The same doors you entered though swing open again, and Hongjoong himself confidently strolls in. He's wearing the tawny brown fur coat you saw before, fancy black trousers with gold patterning up the outside seams of the legs. His boots are ordinary, but they shine brilliantly, almost putting the jewels on his crown to shame.

It dawns on you then that you have actually never seen the king wear his crown, and you're astonished at how stunning it is. At the center is a huge blue gem, identical to the one sitting in the middle of the silver circlet on your own head. Each peak of the crown is embellished with glittering green sapphires, and between the tufts of his fluffy, mousy hair you can spot the sparkling rubies and garnets fitted around the base of the crown.

Hongjoong paces slowly, aware but unaffected by all eyes watching him in awe. He gets to the table, and stands on the other side of where you are seated, and he turns to face the crowded hall.

"Welcome!" he cries, motioning out in front of him. "Esteemed guests and distinguished friends, welcome to the annual Ateez ball."

The guests clap and cheer at their welcoming, Hongjoong patiently smiling as he waits for them to shut up. Sometimes he really hates his obligation to these dreaded social functions.

"It is with great sadness that the kingdom of Seventeen is not able to attend tonight," He says. "Commander Jeonghan sends his regards to all of you."

Hongjoong claps his hands together, the sound echoing throughout the hall and ringing in your ears.

"Nevertheless! Let us enjoy a night of feasting and festivities! Please, thoroughly enjoy yourselves." He finishes with a deep, sweeping bow, upon which the attendees go wild once more, taking up their goblets and gulping their mead down hungrily.

Hongjoong moves around the table, and takes his seat beside you with an exhausted sigh. All chairs, except for two which belong to Mingi and San who are busy entertaining the guests, are now occupied, and you can't help but wonder who the brown haired man next to Yunho is.

"Hongjoong?" You turn to your right and timidly ask the king your question.

"Jongho?" He questions. "He's the tailor who made your dress. He's a quiet lad, from somewhere up north I believe, but he's damn good at what he does."

Jongho's face perks up over hearing his name and he whips around to face you. Hongjoong signals for him to come over, and he does.

"Jongho! This is Iris, Iris, this is Jongho." The king introduces you, and you can't help but blush at the handsome smile the young man gives you.

"Pleasure to meet cha," He says. "You look even more beautiful in that dress that I ever could'a imagined. Hope yah like it?" You notice the difference in his accent, figuring that must be how they talk up in the north.

"It's gorgeous. Thank you."

"Oh hey, you're that kid from the inn!" Yeosang's voice behind you makes you jump, and you slowly realise that Yeosang is in fact correct.

"The inn with the bear!" You gasp. "Do you know if the bear is okay?"

Jongho chuckles. "The bear is fine. I actually recognise you two from the inn also, fancy meeting here, eh?"

You laugh along with him, one of the many worries settled in your mind as you finally learn about the bear that's been plagueing your dreams for so long.

"Well, I'm glad we are all well aquainted." Hongjoong smiles sarcastically, and Jongho takes that as his notice to return to his seat, bowing politely to you before he does so.

"So when do we start dancing and stuff?" You ask Hongjoong, your eyes following Seonghwa as he hurriedly gets up and scurries out of the hall. Your gaze falls back to the king as he shrugs.

"Probably within an hour or so," he answers. "Only people of high status are allowed to dance, so lords, ladies, princes and princesses from other kingdoms will take the center."

You nod, gulping nervously.

"I hope you've been practicing." Hongjoong says. "You'd better not embarrass me in front of my guests."

"What?" you yelp. "Why don't you go out there and dance if you're so bothered?"

"Because I'm the king." he smirks. "I don't have to do anything I don't want to, and I can make anyone do anything I want."

"You're evil." you snarl at him.

"You love me really." he grins. "Besides, I'm being awfully nice to you, am I not? Letting you live in my castle, giving you lavish clothes, allowing you to do whatever you please?"

"But why? All I do is cause trouble and get in the way."

Hongjoong stays silent for a moment, mulling over his answer before turning to face you once again.

"Truthfully, you remind me of my mother. She was very headstrong, very determined. She would never let my father order her around, not a day in her life would she obey the king's command." He stares into the joyful crowd, his eyes misting over ever so slightly as he remembers his late mother.

"I think she would have liked you very much." He continues. "She loved me dearly, but I think deep down she would have loved to have a daughter. My behaviour as of late, I know she would not have approved of it. My mother firmly believed I would be a good king, and so I strive everyday to make her proud. Your arrival reminded me of the promise I made to her before she passed."

"What promise was that?" You whisper.

"To treat everyone fairly, as she would have done. Regardless of age, race, or gender, my mother was a kindred spirit to every soul she met. Did you know that both Mingi and San were found abandoned outside the gates of the kingdom?"

You shake your head.

"My mother refused to have them sent to the orphanage, so she brought them here and they were raised alongside me."

"She sounds like an amazing woman, Hongjoong."

"She was." He smiles fondly. After a few moments, he shakes his head, rubbing his hands together. "My mother also loved to dance, and so with that, the ball shall properly commence!"

Hongjoong stands up, grabbing a glass goblet and a shiny silver spoon from the table and clinking them together to seize the attention of his guests. You watch as he commands the room like a true king, speaking confidently and without hesitation.

You look out at the sea of guests that hang onto his every word, and smile proudly.

Even if you haven't always seen eye to eye, he's a good man who just wants the best for his people, even you can recognise that.

Hongjoong raises his filled goblet towards the ceiling and grins cheerily at his spectators.

"To Ateez!" he toasts.

"To Ateez!" The crowd, including the table at which you are sat, mimic Hongjoong's cry and you sip eagerly at the alcohol in your cup.

When you place your goblet back on the table, you see Wooyoung stood in front of you, on the other side of the table.

You hadn't actually noticed just how handsome he was looking tonight, and now you had a perfect view.

He was wearing his signature, loose, white shirt, except the first two buttons were undone, giving everybody a direct peek at the top of his chest. He also wore a brilliant crimson waistcoat with bold, green plant stems stitched across the front. Beautiful emerald leaves accompanied the stems, with gorgeous, multicoloured flowers dotted here and there all over the front and back of the waistcoast. You even noticed dainty pink butterflies opening and closing their wings, sitting on the flowers of his outfit, butterflies that were completely identical to yours. Wooyoung's trousers were his usual black ones, but tighter than usual.

His jet black hair was soft and curly, parted in the middle and allowing him to stare at you fondly with his stunning amethyst eyes.

"Would you care to dance?" He asks politely, offering you his hand over the table.

Of course, you nod, and hurriedly rush past Yeosang and San who are sat at the table, to take Wooyoung's hand. He gently takes your hand in his, and raises your hand to his lips. He kisses the back of your hand delicately, and smiles at you with a sparkle in his eyes and a warmth in his heart.

"You look stunning tonight, Iris." He whispers to you, leading you towards the middle of the room where the other couples are preparing to dance.

"As do you, Wooyoung." You blush deeply.

The two of you are stood in the center of the hall, and it feels like you're the only two present. You place your arms around his neck, resting your hands on his broad shoulders, and try to contain the blushing when he puts his hands on your waist.

"Are you ready?" He teases. "Remember all your training?"

"Of course," You mumble back. "How could I possibly forget when I had such an amazingly gifted teacher?"

"Don't let San hear you say that," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Or else his ego will shoot through the roof."

The music starts up again as you giggle quietly. You feel Wooyoung's hands tighten slightly on your waist and the nerves slowly begin to creep in once again.

But then Wooyoung's fingers are on your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

"Hey." He whispers. "No nerves here. We've got this."

And you grin from ear to ear, because he's right.

You manage to keep yourself standing, Wooyoung assisting you most the time by leading you with gentle spins and careful twirls. The two of you join the rest of the crowd in a group dance in which you temporarily switch partners. To your delight, you ended up with Mingi, who despite the vast height difference, was very pleasant to dance with. At one point, Mingi even picked you up and spun you so fast you thought the room was spinning around you.

"That was so fun!" you exclaim to Wooyoung when you return to your original partners.

"I'm glad you thought so." He replies, a hint of playful bitterness laced in his voice. "I much prefer dancing with you than San, his shoulders are much too sharp."

You nod in agreement, laughing joyfully and grinning as Wooyoung matches your gleeful expression. The dancing continues for a short while longer, most of the dancers filing out to eat and drink as the music becomes calmer and slower. But you and the elf carry on as if you were the only two in the room, whispering to each other as you gracefully move across the floor.

Hongjoong watches the two of you from his seat at the main table. He's sitting alone, Yeosang, Yunho and Jongho having collected themselves at the table of King Chan and his guests, talking animatedly.

Hongjoong watches as you and Wooyoung dance, observing with an amused twist of his mouth as Wooyoung dips you down, holding your waist, and gently places his lips on yours.

Hongjoong can't help but admire the bravery displayed by the elf.

He watches you smile into the kiss, and notices how Wooyoung's grip on your waist tightens. The king might even go as far to say he's impressed.

With an exhale, Hongjoong's gaze moves from you to the others, to San cracking jokes, to Mingi expertly playing his lute, and to the other three who seem to be getting along well. He's glad he went through with the ball, the stress of the prophecy getting to him more than he would have liked.

The king sits silently, pondering over the last few months, when Seonghwa, visibly distressed comes hurrying over.

"Hongjoong," he rasps. "We've recieved a message from Seventeen. They've recieved word that there's magic in the kingdom and they're sending soldiers to attack-"

"Ah." Hongjoong nods. "That's why Commander Jeonghan didn't show up. I see."

The king stays silent for a few moments, Seonghwa staring him with panic written over his entire face.

"Well, there's no reason why we can't talk this out. Tell them to send their commander and we can assure them there is zero magic in Ateez."

"But-"

"But what, Seonghwa? There is zero magic in the kingdom. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." The kingsguard nods hurriedly, and once again rushes out of the hall, no doubt to instruct the messengers.

Hongjoong sighs. He won't tell the others, not yet.

"Let them enjoy themselves." He mumbles to himself, watching Wooyoung twirl you around in his arms.