#because as much as he doesn’t want to be a bother he wants to be better most of all. wants to be present

[kashverse]

can i request babykuna when she was still a lil babyyy, like 6 months and up?

let’s travel back in time back to the peak of babykuna’s reign as a tiny, drooling dictator.

back when sukuna was a new dad.

and yes—of course, he was the type to be found in the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his custom-made linen shirt, a baby strapped to his chest as he whipped up a batch of cookies for you. because even as a feared businessman, sukuna is still your man, and that means making sure you get your damn freshly baked cookies. but babykuna? she doesn’t care about any of that. she just wants to chew on something. 

so naturally, she chooses to drool all over his shirt. like, so much drool, it's actually impressive. sukuna glanced down at her, unimpressed. “you done?” babykuna smacked her tiny hand against his chest and slobbered more onto the fabric. 

“figured.” he didn’t even bother wiping it off, just kept stirring the cookie batter like it wasn’t even happening.

but bedtime? bedtime is when sukuna’s entire personality softens. babykuna is snuggled between the two of you, looking so small in the middle of the giant bed, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of sukuna’s shirt. and sukuna? he watches her with the softest expression, rubbing slow circles against your hip and back because he knows you're exhausted.

but it doesn’t stop him from taking business calls while rocking her to sleep.

“if you pull that shit again, i’ll ruin your entire reputatio—”

a tiny sniffle cut through the tension.

“—n,” sukuna continued, unfazed, “and you’ll never recover.”

the poor bastard on the other end of the call was silent for a long moment before stammering, “are… are you holding a baby?” sukuna narrowed his eyes. “focus on your problems, not mine.”

but the real challenge? getting babykuna to say ‘papa’. because, listen—he’s worked hard for this title. and he wants to hear it. every single day, without fail, he leaned down to her and grinned. “say papa. paaaapa.”

babykuna stared at him.

“c’mon, princess. you can do it.”

she opened her mouth. sukuna leaned in closer, expectant. and then she burped.

sukuna blinked, then slowly leaned back.

“…okay, that was actually impressive.”

babykuna giggled like she just dropped the sickest punchline of her life. you, watching from the side, smirked. “well, she kinda said something.”

“don’t patronize me.”

[margotw10bis]

BUILD A HOME.JJK [m] Teaser

business partner!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: angst; smut; romance (?); friends (?) to lovers

Words: ?

Synopsis: Working with Jungkook is a pain in the ass, resulting in numerous fights that always end up with angry sex. However, you wouldn't want to work with anyone else than him.

Warnings: none for the teaser

Namjoon and Jungkook have done a miracle: redoing the facade wall in just one day. You can read on their faces their tiredness. That’s why you invite them to a Korean Barbecue restaurant tonight.

While entering the restaurant with your brother and Jungkook, you notice how the waitress instantly blushes after eyeing at the younger man. You can’t blame her: Jungkook with a denim jacket is quite dangerous for young hearts… She doesn’t even seem to see you or Namjoon, her glance being stuck on Jungkook. She leads your group — or only the inked man, you can’t say — to your table and you welcome the sweet rest and the chill atmosphere of the restaurant.

You don’t have time to start any conversation that the waitress comes back to take your drink orders. She must have a special talent because she can write down what you tell her without even looking at her notepad, which allows her to be completely focused on Jungkook. You watch her tentatively flirting with him with an amused grin. You wait for the waitress to leave to speak.

"You should give her your number" Jungkook looks at you with a questioning look and you roll your eyes "She seems to really like you" You explain, pointing at the waitress with a nod of the head 

"She’s cute but not my type" He nonchalantly replies, just like he was taking about a piece of clothing 

"Oh come on! Every girl is your type" You sigh with frustration 

"Really?" He asks, playfulness noticeable in his doe eyes 

"Was it like a week ago?" You fake thinking while tapping your finger on your lower lip, clearly remembering how Jungkook abandoned you at the restaurant to end the night with a random woman "You left with a false blond girl. Before that, you were with a foreigner, a French girl I think. Oh, and one month ago, you had a thing with a forty-year old woman. How can you say you have a type?" You joke 

"Don’t be jealous, you’re the only one I stick to" Jungkook says with a flirty tone that makes you shiver in disgust 

"Please, don’t’"You snap back with a laugh

Namjoon is watching your little interaction with wide eyes. He can’t understand how Jungkook could even think about another girl when there is… whatever it is between you two. And also, how can you be okay with Jungkook dating other girls. You two are so fucking weird. 

Between beer and chatting, you gather some meat on the grill and settle it on Jungkook’s plate — you have noticed that he is so into his weird anecdote that he hasn’t eaten for at least ten minutes. In exchange, without even be conscious of it, your partner fixes your woolen cardigan that has slipped from your shoulder. 

Your bother is watching you two with a suspicious eye. 

"You’re sure you two are not together?" He cuts Jungkook off 

You can’t help laughing, a little too much not to offend the younger man. 

"What? Of course not" You end up answering 

"Hey, don’t be too startled by the idea, I’m a great boyfriend" Jungkook pouts

"No, you’re not. I know you way too well. Stop talking non sense" You reply, grabbing his cheeks to tease him even more 

"Well, the perfect boyfriend that I am is going to take a piss" He announces while snapping your hand away from his face

[revelboo]

Thank you so much for the many stories you consistently update!! Out of curiosity, do you think you'll be updating the Scavengers, Pharma's, or Tarn's story soon? I didn't see them on the poll so I figured I'd ask. Not a request, I'm happy with whatever updates you post 💕

I will be updating them, too. That’s just for the 2k followers reward

L.G. Fuad Pt 8

Tarn x Reader

• Too shocked that he can just shrink to bother sulking about him force feeding you none too gently, you struggle to choke the dry, gritty bar down as quickly as possible. Then seize his big hand before he can try to dump you out of his lap and go back to being giant and scary. And he stiffens when you study him, but you doubt you’re ever going to get a better chance. Doesn’t hurt that he’s warm, either. He grumbles at you, the only word you can understand his stilted ‘human.’ He absolutely thinks that’s your name, but you doubt he’ll be any better at pronouncing your real name so you just roll with it. And peeking up to find his optics narrowed behind the mask, you’re so tempted.

• Listens to you chirp and chatter at him, as you examine his servos. And though he’s not sure why, he lets you gently manipulate his joints, your delighted little smiles spreading warm through his spark. Knows he should move you off his lap, definitely shouldn’t enjoy the warmth of you or the way you wiggle against him to lean your head on his chassis. It’s all too strangely intimate when it shouldn’t be. You’re not Cybertronian, you’re alien. But he can’t make himself move you as those soft fingers move to his wrist, then follow his arm up, before you shift to straddle his lap and he goes still. Because you have no idea what you’re doing to him, what those soft hands are doing. Free hand landing on your hip to push you away and just lingering instead. “You need to stop right now.” You glance up at him, chirping and he knows you can’t understand him. But you’re pressed intimately against his plating now, making him painfully aware of your soft warmth.

• It’s right there. Fingers skating over plating and dipping into seams to play with his joints, you pretend to be only interested in how his body fits together. And it is fascinating, but that mask is your real target. “You’re really warm, Phantom,” you say, voice soft and soothing like you’re coaxing an angry dog that’s likely to bite. Listening to him growl at you, you smile. “That’s right. I’m absolutely not up to anything. Just curious.” The mesh of his neck is warm and has surprising give to it when you stroke over it and you shift on him to get more comfortable.

• Horrified as his spike actually stirs behind his plating when you move against him, soft fingers lazily playing with the cables of his neck, he can hear his venting roughening. Why? Why is he responding to you? A little, organic. It’s blasphemous. What would Megatron think? Shouldn’t want to interface at all, it doesn’t further his mission. Doesn’t help him reach his goals. But his processor goes there anyway. Wanting and wondering if you could even take his spike. What you’d feel like under him. Servos flexing on your hip, tightening, it’s your startled sound and little fingers urgently trying to pry his hand loose that snap him out of it.

• Squirming and trying to get his servos off of you, because he’s gripping you hard enough to be uncomfortable. To begin to hurt and he pulls his hands away, shifts as if to dump you and you grab for the mask. Manage to lift up the bottom edge, get a glimpse of a scarred, handsome face before you wind up flat on your back, his hands seizing and pinning your wrists over your head as he reaches up to fix the mask. And his hands are shaking, you realize. Optics narrowed and furious as he snarls and you’re almost positive you just destroyed all of the good will, or at least, the tolerance you’d earned from him. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see your face.” That harsh snarling has you trembling, makes you struggle to pull out of his grip as he slides a thigh between yours and watches you thrash.

• Venting raggedly as you try to squirm free, he tries to get himself under control. That white hot rage that you’d dared try to remove his mask still running through his lines, demanding a response. A punishment. And he’s still painfully hard, spike pulsing and aching where it’s trapped, because the idea of disciplining you is far too appealing. Needs away from you. Space to get himself back under control, because he shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want you. He’s beyond this.

Previous

[lotusstarr]

Bakugou's Romance

Bakugou, whose grandfather is CEO where he coincidently works at, had hired you to become his personal secretary for his department. Who is pissed because you are just an overachiever, who is a dog for the company ever since you two joined at the same time. Bakugou was going to everything it took for you to quit being his secretary. You who the whole time you’ve been working for this company have been hard-working working late nights to going in early to get ahead of the work. When the CEO brought you in to talk to you you thought you were going to get a promotion for all the hard work you’ve put into this company. You never expected to become a secretary, Bakugou’s secretary at that. Even since you two joined the company at the same time you hated him for being loud and rude to everyone( sucks that he’s your type). You were going to refuse however the CEO baited you for him to pay for your brother’s scholarships for college. You hesitated but agreed wanting nothing but the best for your brother. The first couple of days were complete hell. You don’t know why the CEO thinks that you're a good candidate to handle Bakugou. This man is just so cruel and acts like a spoiled brat. From throwing out the coffee you brought him, not wanting to go to any meetings, to piling up loads of work on purpose. You're going to explode, explode on the inside. On the outside, you just smile and comply with his demands and rude comments like nothing, as if it doesn’t bother you in the slightest bit. Bakugou on the other hand, sees that and is pissed your just taking it but is not surprised either since you've always been and looked like this like everything is perfect and handled easily. And the way you’ve been wearing the same boring glasses slicked back ponytail, and the same boring blouse and long skirt pisses him off how can someone wear the same thing for so many years it irks him.

As it was finally the weekend you wanted nothing more but to just relax and stay home after this hellish week. However, you completely forgot that you had promised your best friend to go for her on this date with this guy she met online. She forgot that she had a concert to go to and was not going to miss that concert at all so you told her you’d go to the date for her. Since you don’t have any cute outfits to wear or have never really dressed up your best friend made it a mission for you to look like a completely different person a you 2.0. When u looked in the mirror after your best friend finished your makeover you couldn’t believe it was really you or someone else. Your hair was curled down perfectly, your makeup looked good not too much makeup but just the perfect amount and the outfit you were wearing was drop-dead gorgeous you never thought you could look this good. You thanked your bsf for this beautiful transformation and felt confident that you can take over the world!

Sitting across from you now at this fancy restaurant is your date chatting away about his work. He’s nice and has been very polite to you during the date but honestly, he’s too boring (and just too plain looking) you are just counting down the minutes till this date ends then you can put on your plain clothes back and watch TV. However, your date asks you if you want to continue this at the bar next door. You decline and tell him that you have work tomorrow in the morning and head to the restroom before you leave. Looking at yourself in the mirror again makes you think how you never really do this and you should at least treat yourself to one drink, especially after this whole week your boss gave you.

Bakugou came over to this bar to hang out with his friends but the whole time his friends were teasing him about how is he 30 and that he’s never had a gf and telling him should just get one already. Bakugou annoyed at them just ignores them and drinks the rest of his whiskey in one go as his eyes scan the front entrance is a very beautiful woman but not just any beautiful woman it’s you. Well, he thought it was someone that looked like you. Not until he pulled out his phone to text you to see if it was actually you as soon as he hit send he saw you immediately open your purse and respond back to him. He couldn’t believe his eyes that someone like you his coworker now secretary who for years looked so plain and boring looked so beautiful it was like you were hiding this beauty from the world.

You promised yourself one drink however one drink turned into five and now you were drunk. Everything was spinning asyou'rer leaving the bar, acreepy-lookingg guy came up to you trying to take you home. You declined him drunkenly but he still persisted until a familiar voice spoke up behind you guys. As you turn to where the voice is you are surprised it was Bakugou there. The creep thankfully left after Bakugou threw threats at him, and walked you home.

As you guys were walking (you were leaning on him) You mumbled how hot you were and hastily tried to take off your blouse. Just as you were trying to take it off Bakugou saw the top of your cleavage, his head was gonna explode he took off his jacket and hurriedly put on the jacket on you while his face was heavily flushed red. after that during the walk home, he was blushing the entire time, even up close you look so beautiful. As you guys got to your apartment you slurred Bakugou that you'll see him on Monday and bid him a goodnight see him on Monday. As Bakugou walked home and entered his home his face was now fire red and thought about how he was going to face you on Monday his personal assistant...and crush.

Never wrote anything like this before but this was fun! i'm pretty proud of it⪩(ᐢᗜᐢ)⪨ This is inspired by the Manhwa "Iseop's Romance" that story is SO GOOD!!

[heeluvv]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

pairing ᯓ nishimura riki x 8th member reader

genre ᯓ angst (?), smut

warnings ᯓ unprotected sex, humiliation kink (?), praise kink (slight), niki is a bit mean :(, etc.

natty’s notes ᯓ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the moment you step into the practice room, you feel it. the tension that suffocated the room, the energy in the room is thick. the others glance at you, then quickly look away, as if they don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

because niki is standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, gaze locked onto you like a predator ready to pounce.

“you’re late.” his voice is even, but there’s something dangerous about it. you shift under his gaze. “i—”

“save it,” he cuts you off, rolling his shoulders back. “get in position. you hesitate for a second too long.

“i said get in position.” you suck in a breath, quickly moving to your spot as he strides toward the speaker. he doesn’t bother restarting the song—he simply clicks play from where they left off.

“five, six, seven—go.”

you jump into the routine, body moving instinctively, but you’re already at a disadvantage. the others are warmed up, locked in. meanwhile, you’re struggling to keep up, your rhythm slightly off, your footwork sloppier than usual.

and niki notices everything.

“faster.”

you push harder.

“sharper.”

you adjust, but it’s not enough.

the song reaches the final chorus, and the moment you land the last move, the music cuts off with a harsh click.

silence.

your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, sweat clinging to your skin. the room is still. no one dares to speak.

“that was pathetic.”

your stomach twists.

“seriously?” he tilts his head, stepping toward you. “you skip extra practice then come in late to then show up with that?”

you grit your teeth. “i was trying—”

“oh, you were trying?” he mocks, raising an eyebrow. “that’s funny, because it didn’t look like it.”

your fists clench at your sides. you hated that he was humiliating like this in front of everyone but you couldn’t help to squeeze your thighs together, it was too much just from the tension in the air and the way he spoke to you—was too much.

niki is standing in front of you, breathing just as heavily, his sharp gaze locked onto yours. his expression is unreadable—part satisfaction, part something darker.

the rest of the members stay silent, awkwardly shifting on their feet.

then niki finally speaks.

“leave.” the single word is clipped, authoritative.

the others hesitate, exchanging glances, but no one argues. one by one, they grab their bags and shuffle toward the door, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on.

right after sunoo’s departure, the door clicks shut behind them, and suddenly, it’s just you and him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you like testing me don’t you, baby?” he grunted, one hand gripping your hips tightly as he drew them up towards him, thrusting into you so hard. his other hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling you back against him. his gaze was fixated on you through the mirror, the way you tits bounced every time his thrust connected to your body, or the way your eyes rolled back and mouth left opened as pleas and moans sounded out.

“f-fuck..is this what you wanted, huh? for me to fuck you so hard, mmh?” he taunted as he chuckled lightly at your state. your pussy clenching on his cock, his thrust slamming down in you harshly.

“you look so good right now…taking me so good, baby..”

“ni—ki! i c—can’t!” you pleaded, your knees shaking against the hard floor as his thrist did not slow down once. “what? already giving up..uh-you can take it baby..” he wrapped his hand around your waist, trailing it down to your throbbing clit. his fingers left small gently strokes.

“look at yourself baby.” he stated lowly, his eyes never once breaking away, he felt himself twitch inside and he knew was close to his high.”are going to be a good girl for me, baby?” he mumbled softly against your ear, unable to answer his question you bobbed your head eagerly, desperation evident as your body tensed.

“cum with me baby—” niki growled, his thrust sloping into you as he shot his hot cum in, not failing behind yourself as you milked him cleaned, your cum covering him whole.

“you did so good for me baby—,” he stated groggily as soft whined ignited from you.

“but i’m not done with you yet, princess.”

natty’s notes ᯓ pretty rushed i feel but i hope y’all still like it :)) also feel free to request !!

[fragmentinafire]

This brings up a really excellent point that I honestly think would have made Bones and Spock’s dynamic so much more rich.

I so often rag on my friends— at least, the ones I’m really close with. We play with stereotypes and differences in culture and even insult each other. I believe this kind of banter is common for POC people in the U.S., but don’t quote me on that.

Spock and Bones’ arguing can be very lighthearted. Sometimes it’s not even arguing. Bones can make teasing comments about Spock’s anatomy (he mimes stabbing his heart, then corrects it to where his liver is) and Spock will tell him that being different from humans “pleases him to no end”. They are clearly friends who care about each other, but the balance between affection and vitriol slides around depending on the episode.

The issue with Spock and characters like him is that there will never be a perfect allegory for human race relations, especially if you elect to use more fantastical means such as werewolves and vampires. But Star Trek wanted to demonstrate racism in a futuristic world that was supposedly beyond such weaknesses- amongst humans, that is. So they made Spock. I’m not sure if they could have shown Sulu or Uhura or any of the countless, background POC officers facing discrimination without being taken off the air— I admit to a large amount of ignorance surrounding ‘60s TV censorship. But regardless of whether such a plot could occur, it didn’t— instead, they use Spock as a stand-in for all minorities (nuance notwithstanding).

Spock is mixed, as well, which brings another complicated aspect to his identity. He is ashamed of his human ancestry because it goes against all of the teachings and expectations put upon him since infancy. One could easily classify either of Spock’s cultures as the ‘marginalized’ one, but in truth that label doesn’t work for Spock. If Spock was, say, Bajoran and Cardassian, it would be a bit more cut-and-dry. But Vulcans and humans, historically, did not suppress one another. They were allied. So why does Spock face prejudice? Well, at the risk of sounding like an afterschool special, because he’s different. He is slighted wherever he turns because he is the only Vulcan (and probably the only non-human) on board. Likewise, if he had remained on Vulcan he would have likely faced the same kind of bigotry by virtue of his (for lack of a better term) humanity. Wherever Spock goes, he is a minority.

Bones, in turn, is unrepentantly human. His moral compass is guided by classically irrational, flawed, human ideals, and not utilitarian ones. He is a romantic, a sensualist. Despite being a man of science capable of triage and other such sacrifices, he ultimately perceives the universe as something full of lives that, above all else, need saving and cherishing— and he is willing to throw away sense and consequence to do so, at least on immediate impulse. Spock sees the universe as something full of beauty and possibility, and values the lifeforms within it— but he is more willing to detach himself from a situation to take the path with the least amount of damage done. This is the crux of Bones and Spock’s disagreements. Bones does not dislike Spock because of his ears or his green blood. He dislikes that Spock is, like him, unbelievably stubborn (though I believe he admires this as well). Bones dislikes Spock at times because he (Bones) cannot comprehend the emotionless sacrifice of life. Bones knows Spock has empathy, but he struggles to reconcile this with what he considers cruelly cold behavior. Notably, Bones has no compunction about Kirk’s levelheadedness- he knows that’s his job. But he also knows that Kirk has a ‘no man left behind’ policy. If Spock had not been as adamant, had not insisted on the ‘logic of the situation’ so often, and had merely been a reserved but efficient commander, Bones would probably not have bothered with him much. He wouldn’t have put in the effort to dislike him. Perhaps a passing respect might have manifested, but nowhere the level of fond camaraderie and appreciation that we do see would have transpired. Theirs is a fire-forged friendship— their debates made them, against all odds, enjoy each other’s company.

Bones does not think Vulcan culture is inherently twisted or backwards, but he does almost unilaterally disagree with its philosophy. As stated, he is a sensualist. His gripe is an ideological one, not one of blind hatred or an assumption towards intrinsic superiority. He values Vulcan lives as he values all other life. In Bones’ mind, the stance he takes against Spock during their ‘real’ arguments is a moral one. For Spock, it is a matter of logic, but also one of culture. Unsurprising, considering how fundamental logic is to being a ‘proper’ Vulcan. And this is not helped by Bones’ remarks on his appearance and biological makeup.

When Bones sneers like this, he is grasping at low hanging fruit. Bones would (and has) absolutely, positively insulted someone if he thought it would get him closer to winning the argument, or just to voice his frustration. This includes jibes at their appearance. How would insulting someone bring him closer to victory? Well, you see, he’s kind of a dumbass. But he’s also used to discipling people with his particular brand of bedside manner, and insulting people is a great way to get others to shut up and listen to his medical advice. He might not win the argument, but he’ll ‘get the last word’. He may be a kind, compassionate man, but his temper is explosive. Thus, rather than formulating an articulate response, he basically goes for the ‘your mama’ of argument closers.

Now, as OP stated, the audience is conditioned to accept this kind of arguing because Spock “gives as good as he gets”. It’s unfathomable to think of as, y’know, a species that has yet to contact extraterrestrial life, but Spock’s ripostes* are often tailored to insult humanity. If a Vulcan told you your entire species was foolish and inferior (as Spock often does) you might feel offended, and if you countered with a similarly racist (speciesist?) rebuttal, that would kind of put you on equal footing (if, like with Bones and Spock, neither of your cultures had historically oppressed the other).

*Also, Spock sometimes says things about Vulcan superiority unprompted.

But Spock reveals that, indeed, he does not see it as though he and Bones are always on equal footing. Sometimes, it feels like Bones is punching down and deliberately targeting his status as a Vulcan. This is, of course, wrapped up in his own inferiority complex about being mixed with human and striving to be the ‘perfect’ Vulcan, but it is also completely on Bones for defaulting to insults, even during friendly banter. (As someone who ribs on my fellow POC friends, if I never had a positive word for their respective cultures, it would be inevitable for some kind of true offense to occur.) (For a show set in a future supposedly devoid of capitalism and other such things, it seems the toxic, masculine aversion to sincerity prevails. Or maybe that’s just Bones.)

Especially considering that even though Spock is not from a marginalized community, he is a minority just for the sake of being the only Vulcan on the Enterprise.

Alas, given the episodic nature of the show, very little character development arises between these two. We don’t get to see Bones correcting (or even overcorrecting) his behavior. We only get glimpses of Spock repairing his relationship with himself and his human identity.

We do, however, get to see them being friends. For all their flaws, they are undeniably that.

This post really got away from me, but I think I needed to put thumb to keyboard. So many people resist the idea that either of their beloveds has done anything wrong, ever, but I think it actually makes good food for thought. Bones doesn’t hate Vulcans, and neither does Spock detest humans, but they both offend each other’s sensibilities (particularly Bones— again, he has allergic-to-sincerity-disorder) with discriminatory rhetoric and it’s a shame that the format of TOS restricted their dynamic from blossoming to its full extent.

But what we do get to see is pretty exceptional.

Whenever I see people talk about all our yesterdays it's always about the homoerotic value of spock throwing McCoy up against a wall, or how it doesn't make any sense that spock going back in time would make him act like a pre surak vulcan. Both correct and interesting and good to talk about.

HOWEVER

I cannot for the life of me stop thinking about "I don't like that. I don't think I ever did and now I'm sure". Fucking?? This line puts their whole dynamic in an extremely interesting new light because yeah, doctor mccoy routinely says some pretty racist shit to him, but it's generally seen as okay because spock gives as good as he gets most of the time and they're both clearly having fun bickering.

But in an unguarded moment we find out that no, that part of it is something that spock merely tolerated and there's some (thoroughly repressed I'm sure) resentment that's been bubbling under the surface for god knows how long.

We the audience know that spock has a good deal of baggage about his whole situation but did mccoy know? Was he aware that he even could hurt his friend in this way? I don't think so, and I wonder if there would have been some kind of follow up to this if the show was more serialized (or if it wasn't the sixties).

Ig that's what fanfic is for but I can't find anything that scratches this particular itch. Like, if I was a writer I'd have mccoy get awkward around spock for a little bit, like, their usual banter gets weird and stilted, maybe spock misinterprets this, thinks he's mad at him. But then on a mission, spock like, throws himself in front of a train to save jim or some shit. Whatever, he does something insane without checking with anyone because he's decided it's the logical thing to do and he would never act impulsively, of course not doctor. And then mccoy realizes that this is the most frustrating man who ever lived and there are many reasons to yell at him that aren't xenophobic.

(Boy I sure hope nobody steals this idea and puts it on ao3 and maybe sends me a link, I would hate that,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,)

[bomber-grl]

Kusuo Saiki Dating Headcanons

Pairing(s): Kusuo Saiki x Gn!Reader

It takes a really long time to get to the point where the two of you are dating. Like 100,000,000 words, slow burn, they finally kiss at the end– sort of fanfic. Honestly, I think Saiki’s a bit hesitant about relationships in general because they seem like a hassle. Everyone else is on thin ice already, the thought of putting effort into a relationship is exhausting enough.

Like with everyone else, he’s pretty indifferent toward you at first, and you only move up to "mild annoyance" status if you stick around long enough. Especially since he’s probably hearing all your thoughts, so there’s that.

Now, onto the actual headcanons. Saiki isn’t exactly the affectionate type. You two probably started as friends, mostly with you bothering him. Even after he realizes he likes you (though he really tries to hide it), nothing changes much. The difference is, you’re the only person he seems to tolerate. Everyone else wonders why you even bother with him.

Sometimes, Saiki gets... freaked out? There’s really no other way to put it. He’s used to being around people who are idiots, so when someone like you comes along—someone who’s rather perceptive—that’s a bit much for him. It messes with his head. Despite being able to hear your every thought, he starts wondering if you’re psychic too.

You can tell what he’s feeling, what he wants, and even do things for him. Sure, he could do all those things tenfold in just under a minute, but for some reason, he finds himself smiling. He even starts thinking fondly of you.

If you were another Nendou, though? He’d probably avoid you, and your relationship would be a slow burn that takes another 100,000,000 words and even worse edging (Not like that). But I digress. Saiki shows affection in subtle ways. Like remembering offhand comments you’ve made about your favorite snack or color.

He’s the type of guy who’ll subtly push your chair out of the way when you’re about to trip or pick up a dropped pen without you asking. He might not say much, but he’ll do whatever he can to make your life a little easier, even if he doesn’t directly tell you that.

I know it might sound like I’m painting him as a deadbeat bf, but honestly? He’d probably be a great boyfriend. He can literally hear your thoughts. He knows what you want, even before you say it. He’s seen (and heard) men ruin their relationships because they thought they knew their partner. So, when you want to grab a treat or have been wanting something that relates to an interest, he’ll know.

He’ll also know (and hear) if you slightly even think he’s good looking on a particular day. He’ll never admit it, of course, but if you get embarrassed thinking about it (since you know he can hear your thoughts), he secretly enjoys that. Seeing you flustered is one of his guilty pleasures—even though he’d never show it.

And yeah, Saiki’s protective. He won’t say it, and he won’t make a big show of it like other people would, but he does care. If something’s bothering you, he’ll subtly step in. Like if someone’s making you uncomfortable, he’ll use his telekinesis to, throw something at them or trip them up—whatever works, as long as no one knows it was him.

He doesn’t like people messing with you, and he won’t hesitate to shut them down, even if he keeps it minimal to avoid drawing attention to himself.

In this following scenario you're another Nendou. He hardly ever gets surprised. I mean, hearing everyone’s thoughts kind of ruins surprises, spoilers for a new tv show, honestly anything for him. But maybe—just maybe—the only way to startle or fluster him is by turning the tables on that. Maybe it’s the first time you show affection in your relationship.

Saiki’s not big on physical touch– we all know that much. If you want to hug him, go ahead, but he’ll probably just stand there like a statue. So, let’s say you somehow convince him to come over to your place, and then you, attempted subtly, suggest that you kiss him out of nowhere.

He’d choke on his drink and immediately try to cover it up. Forget not hearing your thoughts, he literally didn’t think you’d want to kiss him anytime soon. He won’t show it (obviously) but deep down, he’s definitely a little shaken.

Now, in the chance that you two do kiss, (which is chapters later– in fanfiction terms) he’s very hesitant? Like sure, he can destroy the entire Earth if he even wanted to but the idea is still startling. He thinks it over and once he agrees (which is the only kiss you’ll get until the next blue moon) he is admittedly worried.

He’s never kissed anyone, he never planned to so he tries to be collected like he always is. If a satellite suddenly went offline somewhere in space, well that’s nothing to do with him.

Also, an extra that isn’t a dating hc is that Saikis mom and dad love you so much, his dad literally asked if you were actually real which earned a side eye from Saiki. It does get annoying for Saiki, but he’s pretty glad you all get along.

[mayanneaa]

always and (not) forever - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.

PAIRING : rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY : rafe breaks up with you right after you get accepted to stanford university.

WARNING(S) : angst, swearing, not really proofread

A/N : can you tell i just watched to all the boys: always and forever? (divider by @roseraris )

WC : 0.7k

masterlist.

Your heart’s pounding more and more as you click on the email you just got.

It’s late at night, only the crickets outside accompanying your growing emancipation. You squeeze the hem of your pajama shirt, biting your lip almost to blood.

This is the moment you’ve been waiting for forever— the week of acceptance letters from Stanford.

You can’t really remember when exactly you decided that a university across the whole country was good for you. It just… happened.

Your boyfriend, Rafe, wasn’t particularly excited for you to study so far away since he wanted to go to the one in-state. You managed to convince him that you’ll be well.

The email is long, but after the first words, you don’t even bother reading more. You got in.

A scream escapes your lips, quickly muffled by your hands. You sit there wide-eyed, the faint light of your laptop’s screen falling on your face.

“Oh my God.”

You immediately grab your phone, trembling fingers dialing Rafe’s number. He answers faster than the first ding.

“What’s up, baby?” His voice’s a little raspy and low as if he was falling asleep.

“I got into Stanford,” you whisper, the words feeling unreal once they leave your mouth. “Can you believe it, Rafe?”

There’s a silence, followed by a hum. “That’s… great. I mean, you’re happy, right?”

“Yeah, of course!”

There’s a silence— a moment where you can let your emotions cool off a bit, followed by Rafe clearing his throat.

“Actually… Can we meet?”

You knit your eyebrows. His voice is steady but distant. Something you haven’t heard in a while. “Like, right now?”

Rafe hums in response, and you feel the confusion bubbling up. “Well, if you want to you can come over, but be quiet. My parents are asleep.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

You hang up the phone, your hand lingering as you glance at the laptop screen.

Was Rafe overthinking this whole ‘distance’ thing once again?

You’ve already told him a million times that it will work out. So why the sudden change of mind?

You slip your feet into your slippers and grab a hoodie you throw on on the stairs.

The light from Rafe’s motorcycle flashes through the windows, a quiet buzz filling the natural silence. You quickly open the door and get outside, a chilly breeze hitting your bare legs.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, crossing your arms on your chest.

Rafe takes off his helmet and looks at the ground. “I think we should break up before you go to Stanford.”

You grimace, scrunching your nose. “What are you talking about? Rafe, we’ve been through this. I know it’s hard to be this long distance, but we can do it—”

“No.” The word comes out of his mouth so quickly, you gasp under your breath. “Honestly, how do you see that? Going from what we are now, from me getting to your door in five fucking minutes to seeing each other once God knows how much time?”

“But… you agreed to that earlier…”

“I was wrong,” Rafe says as quietly as a whisper, his voice cracking. “I’m not going to watch it all fall apart in two, four, or even six months. It’s better if we just end it now.”

You squeeze your arms and clench your jaw so tight it almost hurts.

How dare he just stand there, not even looking at you, as your life seems to split in two?

“Don’t say that, Rafe. You don’t mean it…” You say, your voice is small, but you know better than this. Rafe doesn’t just say things.

“I do.”

Two words. Those two words were enough to let the tears pushing onto your eyelids fall.

“Are you serious? After all we’ve been through, you leave me because of some stupid belief that we will not make it?” You sigh, anger spilling out with each breath you take.

“Go, Rafe. I don’t want to see your face.”

He inhales sharply as if you just slapped him. Maybe you should’ve done that. Instead, you turn on your heels and storm into the house, not giving Rafe another glance.

All you hear is the engine running, and the quiet sound of your heart breaking.

taglist :

@amterasuu

[marauroon]

── .✦ 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 (𝐬.𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤)

sirius is so adamant to prove his hatred for what his family stands for that he ends up becoming them.

sirius black x gn!reader | 3.1k | flangst | masterlist.

CW | slytherin reader, kind of bullying (marauders to reader), lots of arguing, enemies to lovers, slow burn, just general britishness

a/n — the og request was so enthusiastic so i hope this lives up to expectations 🤞

The corridors of Hogwarts are never quiet, always filled with the chatter of students, the rustling of robes, the distant hum of magical portraits gossiping amongst themselves.

You’ve grown used to it, just as you’ve grown used to the way Gryffindors look at you—like you’re something foul stuck to the bottom of their shoe.

It doesn’t bother you, not really.

You’ve learned to wear your green and silver with pride, to ignore the muttered remarks and judgmental glances.

Except for him.

Sirius Black doesn’t just glare. He sneers. He rolls his eyes. He makes a show of stepping aside when you pass, like even sharing the same air as you is offensive.

It would almost be funny if it weren’t so pathetic. If he weren’t so Sirius Black about it—dramatic, unrelenting, determined to make sure you know what he thinks of you.

“Merlin, I think the dungeon stench is getting stronger,” he drawls loudly one afternoon, just as you’re walking past him in the Entrance Hall. James, always eager to stir up trouble, chuckles beside him. “Might need to start carrying something to ward it off. What do you reckon, Moony?”

Remus doesn’t even look up from his book, but Peter snickers anyway.

You don’t hesitate. You stop, arching a brow as you tilt your head just slightly. “If you’re that worried about foul stenches, Black, maybe start with your own ego. Smells rancid from here.”

James whistles lowly, nudging Sirius in the ribs. “You gonna take that, mate?”

Sirius scoffs. “From a Slytherin?” His grey eyes flick over you dismissively, like you’re not worth the energy. “Please,”

It’s always the same with him—cold, cruel, hypocritical. And yet, every time he opens his mouth to throw another insult, all you can think is does he even realise how much he sounds like the very people he claims to hate?

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Sirius is so desperate to prove he’s not like his family that he’s swung in the other direction entirely. His rebellion is as rigid as the ideals he’s rejecting.

The way he sees it, Slytherin equals the worst parts of his family, of the wizarding world, of everything he wants to burn to the ground. And you? You just happen to wear the wrong colours.

Fine. Let him hate you. You can hate him right back.

—

You don’t know what it is about today that makes you snap. Maybe it’s the way Sirius has been especially insufferable. Maybe it’s the way James is laughing at something he’s said, or the way Peter chimes in with a snide little comment of his own. Maybe it’s because Remus, for all his supposed mediation, never actually tells them to stop.

Or maybe it’s just because you’ve had enough.

“Honestly, mate, you’d think they’d at least try to be original,” Sirius muses, staring you down across the library table as you attempt—attempt—to focus on your Transfiguration notes. “But no. Same old pureblood rubbish, same old superiority complex. Must get exhausting,”

It’s not even a direct insult. Not really. Just another offhand remark, the same tired implication that your house defines you, that you must be just like the worst of them.

Something inside you snaps.

The chair scrapes harshly against the floor as you shove it back, standing before you even fully register what you’re doing. The words spill out before you can stop them, sharp and furious and ringing through the library loud enough that even Madame Pince glances over in alarm.

"If you’re so ‘against prejudice,’ then stop assuming that every single bloody green tie you see is the mark of a blood supremacist.”

Sirius freezes.

For the first time, you watch his usual cocky, self-assured expression falter. His lips part, as if reaching for some quick-witted comeback, some clever insult to throw back at you—but nothing comes.

James blinks. Peter’s mouth is slightly open, as though waiting for Sirius to say something. Even Remus looks up from his book now, brow furrowed, sensing something different in the air.

But you don’t wait for a response. You don’t need one.

You shake your head, scoff under your breath, and turn on your heel, leaving them in stunned silence as you march out of the library.

You don’t look back.

—

The words don’t leave Sirius alone. They lodge themselves in his brain, clawing at the edges of his thoughts, forcing their way in when he least expects it.

He tells himself it’s ridiculous. That he was right, that you’re just being defensive because, deep down, you know what Slytherin stands for. That you’re just like them.

…Except, what if you’re not?

The realisation sits uncomfortably in his chest. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to like it.

Because if you’re right—if he’s spent all these years hating you for the same kind of blind, sweeping judgements he resents in his own family for—then what does that say about him?

The Marauders notice the shift almost immediately.

“You’re brooding,” James comments, flopping down on the common room sofa beside him. “That’s a Remus thing. You’re not allowed to brood,”

“I’m not brooding,” Sirius mutters.

“You are,” Remus agrees from the armchair, not even looking up from his book. “It’s a bit unsettling, actually,”

Peter squints at him. “Did you two have a duel we don’t know about? Because if they hexed your mouth shut, I think I might actually give them a round of applause,”

Sirius scowls, throwing a cushion at him. “Piss off.”

But later, when he’s lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he still hears your voice.

"Stop assuming."

He hates that you might be right.

And Sirius Black is nothing if not stubborn.

Which is exactly why, the next morning, he decides to prove you wrong.

By being nice.

—

It starts small.

No insults. No remarks. No sneering looks when you pass by in the corridors. He doesn’t trip you in Potions, doesn’t scoff when Slughorn praises you for a well-brewed Draught of Living Death.

You notice, of course. But at first, you just assume he’s lost interest in his usual torment.

Then he starts doing things that make no sense.

Like defending you in conversation.

The first time, you assume you’ve misheard him. Some Gryffindor is mouthing off about Slytherins in the Great Hall—predictable—and you’ve already tuned it out when you hear Sirius scoff.

“You do realise you’re sounding exactly like my mother, right?” he says lazily, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “Or is irony just lost on you?”

The Gryffindor gapes at him. You do, too. Sirius doesn’t even look at you, just shoves another bite of toast into his mouth like he hasn’t just flipped his entire personality on its head.

Then he starts helping.

When Slughorn assigns a partnered essay in Potions, you groan inwardly as Sirius drops into the seat beside you.

"Relax, I’m not gonna hex your parchment," he says dryly, rolling his eyes. And then—worse—he actually pulls his weight.

It’s so painfully obvious that he’s overcompensating. That he’s doing this out of some ridiculous, guilt-driven need to prove a point. And it infuriates you.

Because now—after weeks of treating you like dirt—he suddenly decides to grow a conscience?

After class, you shove your books into your bag with more force than necessary and whirl on him.

“If you’re trying to make up for being an arse, don’t bother,” you snap. “It’s not an apology if you’re only doing it to make yourself feel better.”

Sirius looks taken aback for all of half a second before his jaw tightens. “That’s not—”

But you don’t wait to hear whatever half-baked excuse he’s about to come up with.

You just shake your head and walk away.

Again.

And the worst part?

This time, he actually looks frustrated about it.

—

Sirius doesn’t try to talk to you again for a while after that.

And for a moment, you think—Good. Let him stew in it. Let him realise that you’re not some guilt-induced redemption project. Let him finally get it through his thick skull that you don’t need, nor want, his forced attempts at kindness.

But then something strange happens.

He doesn’t go back to his usual ways. He doesn’t start throwing insults again, doesn’t return to sneering at you in the corridors or loudly making snide remarks whenever you’re in earshot.

Instead, he just… stops trying so hard altogether.

And that’s somehow even more infuriating.

Because now, instead of forced civility or open hostility, Sirius Black simply acts like you’re—normal. Like you’re just another person in the castle, not an enemy, not a cause for guilt, not someone to be proved wrong or right.

It’s unnerving.

You’re used to his usual extremes—hot or cold, cruel or obnoxiously overcompensating—but this new, balanced in-between? It throws you completely off.

And it gets worse.

Because the universe, apparently, hates you.

First, there’s the paired assignments—because of course McGonagall has the bright idea to randomly assign partners for an extensive Transfiguration project, and of course you end up stuck with him.

Then, there’s the detention—because James Potter and Evan Rosier just had to get into a hexing match in the middle of the corridor, and you just had to be in the splash zone when Flitwick rounded the corner. Now you’re forced to scrub cauldrons in the Potions classroom with Sirius Black, of all people.

And then—worst of all—there’s the Astronomy Tower.

It starts as another unfortunate coincidence. You head up to the tower late one night, unable to sleep, hoping for a moment of solitude beneath the stars. But as soon as you push the door open, you see a familiar figure already leaning against the stone railing.

For a moment, neither of you say anything.

You could leave. Turn around, pretend you never came up here, avoid another painfully awkward interaction. But Sirius—maybe out of some residual stubbornness, maybe out of something else—just sighs and shifts slightly to the side.

Not enough to make a big deal out of it. Just enough to make room.

And against your better judgement, you take it.

Minutes pass in silence. It’s strange—peaceful, but charged in a way you can’t quite explain.

Then, in a voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it, Sirius says, “I never actually thought about it, you know,”

You frown, glancing at him. “Thought about what?”

His gaze stays fixed on the stars, but there’s something distant in it—something tired. “How I treated you,” he admits. “I just—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I was so focused on not being my family, I didn’t stop to think about what that actually meant. I thought hating everything they stood for was enough, but—I ended up doing the same thing, just in a different direction,”

You stare at him, not entirely sure what to say.

Because this is different. This isn’t him trying to prove a point. It’s not a dramatic display of guilt or some exaggerated attempt at redemption. It’s just… honest.

You lean against the railing, crossing your arms. “Took you long enough to figure that out,”

He chuckles, and—Merlin help you—you don’t hate the sound of it as much as you should. “Yeah. It did,”

Silence settles between you again, but this time, it’s comfortable.

And somewhere—between detentions and forced partnerships and nights beneath the stars—you start to realise something else.

You don’t hate him anymore.

It happens slowly. So slowly, in fact, that you don’t realise it’s happening at all.

One moment, Sirius Black is the boy who made your life miserable. The next, he’s the one you’re arguing with over which essay topic is more interesting in the library. The one who always seems to find himself sitting near you at meals, not with you, but near enough. The one who makes exasperated faces at you in class when someone says something particularly stupid.

And then—one day—he’s the one standing between you and a wand aimed at your chest.

You don’t even see who casts the spell. One second, you’re walking back from Charms; the next, someone shouts “Confringo!” and the air crackles with heat. You barely register what’s happening before a body collides with yours, knocking you out of the way as the spell slams into the stone wall behind you.

When you land, it’s hard, Sirius’s weight pressing you against the ground, shielding you before he rolls off just as quickly. The world tilts for a second before you push yourself up, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

Sirius is already on his feet, wand out, furious.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is sharp, dangerous in a way you’ve never heard before. It’s not his usual bravado—not the arrogant drawl he puts on when taunting someone. It’s real, raw anger.

Whoever cast the spell is already gone, footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Your pulse is still racing when you realise he’s turned back to you. “Are you—?” He stops, eyes scanning you quickly for any sign of injury before he shakes his head. “That was—” He cuts himself off again, pressing his lips together, looking angrier than ever.

You exhale sharply, pushing yourself fully upright. “I had it under control.”

He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah? That why you were about to get set on fire?”

You glare at him. “Oh, piss off, Black—”

“I just saved your life—”

“I would’ve been fine—”

You don’t realise how close you are until the argument stops.

You’re both still breathing hard, tension thick between you, too much heat in the air that has nothing to do with the spell. His hand is still half-raised, like he wants to reach for you but thought better of it.

His grey eyes are darker than usual, scanning your face like he’s searching for something—like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to find.

And suddenly, you don’t either.

Your throat feels dry.

Why are you looking at him like that?

Worse—why is he looking at you like that?

You blink first, stepping back, shaking off the moment like it was nothing. “I’m fine,” you mutter, brushing imaginary dust off your robes. “You can stop looking at me like I’m about to drop dead,”

Sirius hesitates. Then, just as quickly, he rolls his shoulders, slipping back into something more familiar—tilting his head, raising a brow, smirking like none of it ever happened. “If you say so,”

But as you turn away, you feel his gaze linger.

And that’s when it really starts.

It’s slow, almost imperceptible at first.

Conversations that used to be sharp and barbed are now laced with something else—something softer, something almost teasing. Your insults have lost their bite; his smirks have stopped feeling like a challenge.

Then, there are the looks.

Stolen glances across classrooms. Raised eyebrows in the Great Hall when someone says something particularly idiotic. That half-smile he gives you when you say something sarcastic under your breath, like you’ve shared some private joke no one else gets.

And the touches.

His knee bumping yours under the table in the library. Fingers brushing when he hands you a quill. The way he slings an arm around James’s shoulders so often that you don’t think much of it when he does the same to you.

Until—one evening—you do.

You’re both where you always seem to end up lately—next to each other at a table, books spread out between you, quills scratching against parchment.

It’s late, and most students have already trickled back to their dorms. The candlelight flickers, casting shadows over Sirius’s face as he leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a groan.

You’re half-asleep, scribbling something about Vanishing Spells when you feel it—his fingers, barely there, skimming against your wrist.

It’s absentminded, thoughtless. But he doesn’t move away.

And neither do you.

You should.

You really should.

But all you can think about is that moment in the corridor. The way he looked at you. The way you looked back.

“This is stupid,” he mutters.

“You’re stupid,” you reply automatically, not even looking up from your notes.

Sirius huffs a laugh. “Brilliant comeback,”

“Thanks,” You flip a page. “Took me ages to come up with it,”

There’s a pause. Not an awkward one—just the kind that’s started to feel normal between you. Easy.

Then Sirius shifts, resting his arms on the table, fingers tapping idly against the wood. “You know,” he says, voice quieter now, more thoughtful, “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

You freeze.

Slowly, carefully, you lift your gaze from your book. Sirius isn’t smirking, isn’t making a joke of it. He’s just looking at you—calm, steady, like he’s only just realising it himself.

Your throat feels weirdly tight. You swallow. “Oh?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

You don’t know why your heart is suddenly beating too fast.

You could joke about it. Could roll your eyes, make some sarcastic remark about how long it’s taken him. Could pretend like this moment doesn’t feel like the ground shifting beneath you.

But you don’t.

Instead, after a moment, you nod back.

“I don’t think I hate you either.”

It’s quiet. Undramatic. But as Sirius’s mouth quirks up—just slightly, just enough—you realise it’s the most important thing you’ve said in a long time.

[loveandleases]

Hey so I know I've been bothering ya a lot these days but I can't help daydreaming about your firecracker of a son 😂

Now we seen these two act (and be mistaken, tho they not wrong) as a couple but how does he take it? Like let's say coming late from a gig (maybe two gigs back to back) and he's exhausted so MC leads him to the couch to rest and he falls asleep, and has such good sleep and slowly wakes up like damn this ratty couch pillow sure is soft... But he's just resting on MCs chest (I'd say thighs but the boobs must be funnier).

Does he play it off? Does he freaks out? Does he let out a rather unmanly sound? Does he rather MC to fluster or shrug it off like it's nothing?

What I'm trying to ask is how much PDA does he get away with by being "just friends"?

Cam's going to get spoiled, one way or another. below the cut!

So, the thing about Cam is he finds touch comforting. He never got a comforting hug in the middle of the night when he woke up struggling to breathe, he didn’t fall asleep with a kiss to the cheek and wishes of sweet dreams. (Excluding Em, of course.) He’ll take whatever MC will give him—if it’s just a smile, that’s enough for him.

He’s naturally clingy, which lets him get away with a lot of casual PDA. He doesn’t hesitate to initiate touch (if MC is okay with it), whether it’s resting an arm on MC’s shoulder (G too has to deal with this), brushing an arm against them when they’re walking, or grabbing their hand when he’s walking off in a huff. But when it goes beyond that—like him resting on MC’s chest, which they’ve each done to one another—it kind of short-circuits his brain. (Before realizing how he felt about MC, Cam didn’t think twice about it but now...)

If MC is asleep, he indulges in it, just soaking up the moment because he knows it’s fleeting. If MC is awake, he’s scrambling to move. Deep down, he wants MC to acknowledge that it’s a bit more than friends being comfortable with one another, and if they don’t—expect a pouting session.

[muhlsworld]

WHAT ARE WE?

synopsis: bumping into nika at that party did not go the way you expected.

WARNINGS: this is a part two to my previous fic, suggestive themes (no smut), cussing, italics are flashbacks, one use of y/n (sorry), yet again bad writing

it had been 3 weeks since the party. and you didn’t know why you did what you did. it was all such a blur.

“nika?” you asked.

she looked at you and her eyes went wide.

“y/n?” “what are you doing here?” nika asked in complete shock. you were in complete shock as well to even register her questions. your mind was in a frenzy. you couldn’t believe that she was in front of you. your nika. “are you okay?” nika asked, with what someone could confuse with genuine concern, again. and with that question something in you snapped.

“am i okay?” you repeated. “are you fucking kidding me nika?” you asked, your tone laced with anger and disbelief. nika looked at you wide eyed never hearing you speak to her like that.

“hey, are you ready for practice?” lily asked ripping you from your thoughts. lily had become somewhat of your rock these past few weeks. bonding during practice and spending most of your free time with her. although she doesn’t really know what happened that night or why you’ve been acting “off”.

“yeah. just need to grab my racquets.” you replied. “great, let’s get this practice over with so we can go eat.” lily said. you laughed slightly thinking how such a small girl could eat so much. “okay okay i’m going” you replied.

practice was over, it went okay. your shots weren’t as accurate as they normally are. your shots not having the normal amount of power. you weren’t surprised.. your mind was else where. the memory replaying through the whole practice.

“why nika?” you asked after her not answering you beforehand. she stayed silent yet again. your frustration bubbling every passing second. after a few moments of silence you grew tired of her not speaking. “fine i don’t need this right now nika. don’t bother talking to me” you exclaimed.

right as you were turning around to walk away back to your friends, you felt her grab your wrist. you turn around to tell her off but she cuts you off. “wait please, just let me explain” she sighs. “just not here.” she says and you look at her confused. but before you could say anything shes dragging you by the wrist throughout the frat house. “nika where the hell are you taking me” you asked her not wanting to be around her for any longer. without answering you she pulled you into an empty bedroom.

“look i know i have a lot to explain to you and i will just please hear me out” she pleaded. you look at her with a harsh look. a look you’ve never given her. fed up with everything about the night you say “you have 5 minutes muhl, better start talking.”

“i know what i did was wrong, just ghosting and completely cutting you out of my life like that. i regretted it every day. i still do” nika explained. there was something in her eyes that made it seem like she was telling the truth. but you just couldn’t believe her.

“then why nika?” you asked sounding more defeated this time. “did i really mean nothing to you, for you to cut me out like that.” all the emotion being evident in your voice. nikas heart was breaking at the sight that she caused. “i panicked.” nika answered. “what could have been so bad that you couldn’t tell your so call best friend.” you exclaimed. “you know i would’ve helped you through whatever it was.” you said while looking at her straight in the eyes. however she didn’t look at you, she was twiddling her thumbs around one another. something she used to do many years ago when she was nervous.

“because then i would’ve had to face my feelings for you.” nika whispered. almost quiet enough for you to not hear her.

almost.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts yet again but by your coach this time. “what’s going on kid?” he asked you. “you looked off out there today. is there something i should know about?” he asked immediately after the first question. “no i’m good coach.” you said with confidence.. or so you thought but he looked at you skeptically. “i’m just tired, i swear.” you said. and apparently that was convincing enough for him to leave you alone.

after that somewhat annoying conversation with your coach you opted to going to lunch with your teammates. you all had unanimously decided on chipotle, your guys favorite. you all enjoyed your meal talking about nonsense. and for a moment you felt back to normal. your normal without nika clouding your thoughts.

once your lunch was over every one had split up stating how they each had their own things to do for the rest of the day. you only had a self workout and some homework to finish for a class. so you went back to your dorm room, deciding to work out later on in the day.

the whole afternoon had gone by, it was around 8:30 pm, you were in your dorm finishing your homework. scratch that, you were trying to finish your homework. but a certain burnett kept sneaking back into your thoughts.

“your feelings for me?” you repeated almost sounding hopeful. “yes.” nika replied simply. “what do you mean?”you asked instantly. with a deep sigh nika replied “i loved you. and i didn’t know what to do with those feelings. so i did what i could and i ran from you.” you stared at her with a blank expression. your mind running at a thousand miles per minute. you stayed silent for a few minutes. the tension in the room growing. “please say someth-“ nika way saying until you cut her off, placing your lips on hers for a brief second. “you dumbass i loved you too” you stated like it was obvious.

and with those words it was like something switched within nika. she closed the distance between you two again but this time the kiss was more meaningful and deeper, you replied instantly kissing her back. but the kiss grew hungrier. you both grew hungrier for each other. your tongues dancing with each other and saliva mixing together.

nikas hands rested on your waist and you were getting impatient. so you removed your hands from around her neck and placed atop hers, slowly guiding them to your ass and slightly squeezing over her hands. you moaned softly into her mouth and that was music to her ears. she wanted to hear you even more. so with that she moved you two to the bed.

the sound of skin slapping together echoed throughout the whole room. both of you without a single worry in this moment. it was what you had always wanted with nika. your bodies tangled together.

you snap out of your own thoughts not wanting to relive the rest of the memory of that night.

since homework seemed to be out of the window. you decided to finally go do your workout. so with that you decided to get ready. it didn’t take you long to get ready, you opted for a simpler and comfier outfit. and with that you leave your dorm.

you make it to the gym and start your workout. with the music blasting in your ears you didn’t even hear someone walk into the gym. continuing to mind your own business you go on with your workout. but you feel someone staring at you so you take your headphones out and turn around. and that same feeling from years ago and the same one from the party hits you again.

there she is again. staring right at you.

you guys hadn’t talked about what happened that night. so you thought now would be a good a time as any. seeing as you two were alone. you walk up to her “hi.” you said. “hey” she replied coldly. you looked confused as you why she was being this way after what happened. but you let it slide as you were about to talk to her about it anyway.

right as you were about to speak the door to the gym opens and this guy walks in and starts approaching you guys. you were confused as ever, but what you didn’t see was nikas panicked face. he comes up right beside nika and places an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. you were completely dumbfounded at what was going on. and then he spoke. “hey babe, did you start without me?” he asked.

and then it clicked. why you guys hadn’t spoken about what happened 3 weeks ago.

nika had a boyfriend.

and you had no idea.

A/N: okay so i really don’t know where im going with this or if im even making a part 3 to this but if you guys want it then ill post it.

[twopoppies]

https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/774233643929468928/gina-would-you-be-surprised-if-with-lt3-louis?source=share

it’s sooo difficult to be a marketing larrie because as a marketing person that has worked in PR and promo I can’t stop noticing all the things that went wrong and everything that I would do different BUT as a larrie I can’t stop thinking how much of those “failures” are tied to the complicated Larry background attached to Louis.

I agree that fitf and the subsequent tour didn’t perform as they were expecting… I wouldn’t call the tour a failure but they booked venues way more bigger that the ones for the first tour and he didn’t sold out most of them. I don’t think this happened because of the fans that left but because they were not capable of attract the new fans they were hopping for. And that’s exactly what bothers me the most because almost 90% of the marketing efforts were directed at existing fans and it’s not like most of us need convincing.

when the first fitf promos dropped it was clear that they were trying to shift his fanbase towards something more “mature” and alternative but they didn’t followed that route for long and it’s not something that you achieve with a couple of interviews.

I personally think that the lack of efforts is a money problem… trends on TikTok, interviews with big magazines and to shows, press articles, special playlists on Spotify and basically everything costs money. Ans those things are bloody expensive and Louis doesn’t have access to big label money and his deal with bmg is only for distribution so most of the costs would be covered by his companies.

And that is just related to the pr and marketing of the music but then how you promote louis himself, his personal brand when most of what the gp knows about him isn’t true. Imagine trying to promote him while trying to navigate the endless contracts and NDAs. In my personal and professional opinion he doesn’t play the celebrity game because it would get more exposure to the things that they don’t want people to know. Imagine trying to kept Larry a secret if both of them had the same level of recognition as Harry does.

and that’s why I don’t understand WHY they insist in pushing larries away when they know they’re not working on a having a bigger or different audience. I wish I knew what’s the reason from a business standpoint because maybe there’s something we don’t know?

I think there are a million things we don’t know. And that makes people throw out every possible scenario and see what sticks. Your thoughts are super interesting. Thank you for adding on to the conversation.

In reference to this

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Felix:

Being best friends with Felix would be an absolute dream. It wouldn’t just be about the fun, bright moments though there would be plenty of those. It would also be about the quiet, comforting presence he brings, the way he makes life feel a little warmer, a little softer, even on the hardest days.

The Beginning of the Friendship

At first, Felix might be a little shy, especially if he doesn’t know you well yet. He’d be polite, kind, and considerate, but there would be a sense of caution until he starts feeling comfortable. Once that happens, it’s over for you. He’s going to attach himself to you like a koala and never let go.

Felix is the type of person who forms deep emotional connections, so becoming his best friend wouldn’t be a casual thing. He’d be all in investing his time, his love, and his energy into making sure you feel valued. He’d remember the little things you like, send you pictures of random things that remind him of you, and always check in to see how your day is going.

The Daily Life of Being Felix’s Best Friend

Felix is someone who thrives on making others happy, so expect a lot of cute gestures. If he hears you had a bad day, he’s immediately showing up with your favorite snack, a playlist of songs to cheer you up, and probably a warm hug. He loves baking, so you’d get to try all his homemade treats first, whether they’re perfect or a complete disaster.

“Try this one! I think I messed up the sugar, but it’s still edible, right?” he’d say, watching you closely as you take a bite. If you pretend it’s bad just to mess with him, he’d dramatically gasp and pretend to cry.

Felix would be the type of best friend who constantly hypes you up. If you’re feeling insecure, he’d shut that down real quick.

“What do you mean you’re not good enough? Do I need to fight you? Because I will,” he’d say, crossing his arms, his freckles scrunching up as he frowns.

But more than anything, he’d make sure you know how much you mean to him.

The Chaos of the Sunshine Energy

Felix has a soft, comforting side, but let’s not forget he’s also chaotic. If you’re his best friend, you’re not just getting cozy, warm Felix; you’re also getting the Felix that dances like a maniac to random music, who suddenly starts singing in a deep voice just to freak people out, and who laughs so hard at dumb jokes that he ends up on the floor.

“Did you see that meme I sent you at 3 AM?” he’d ask, as if that were a normal thing to do.

“You mean the one with the cat wearing sunglasses and breakdancing? Yes, Felix. I saw it.”

“And?”

“It changed my life.”

Felix would 100% drag you into random challenges, whether it’s trying to learn an impossible TikTok dance, doing “rock, paper, scissors” with the punishment of eating something disgusting, or making an overly dramatic music video to a song you both love.

And if you ever prank him? Oh, he’s coming for revenge. Be prepared for unexpected jump scares, your phone mysteriously disappearing, or waking up to find a ridiculous filter added to all your photos.

The Deep Conversations

For all the silliness, Felix is also incredibly introspective and deep. He’s not afraid to have emotional conversations, and if something is bothering you, he’d be the first to notice.

“Talk to me,” he’d say, voice gentle, sitting next to you even if you don’t feel like speaking.

He wouldn’t force you to open up, but he’d make sure you knew he was there. And if you ever needed to cry? Felix would let you, holding your hand or hugging you tightly, whispering soft reassurances.

He’d open up to you, too about his struggles, his fears, his dreams. And when he does, you’d realize that for all his sunshine and warmth, Felix also carries a lot on his shoulders.

“I just want to make people happy,” he’d admit. “But sometimes, I wonder if I’m enough.”

And that’s when you’d remind him, just like he always reminds you, that he is more than enough.

The Protective Side of Felix

Felix is a softie, but don’t let that fool you he’s also fiercely protective. If someone ever upsets you, he’d be ready to throw hands.

“Do I need to go talk to them? Because I will,” he’d say, eyebrows furrowed.

If you were nervous about something like an important event or a big decision he’d be right by your side, holding your hand (literally or metaphorically) and telling you you’ve got this.

Felix wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, not even yourself. If he hears you being too hard on yourself, he’ll shut it down immediately.

“Hey. My best friend is amazing, and if they don’t see that, then they don’t deserve to be around you.”

Spending Time with Stray Kids

Being Felix’s best friend would also mean getting close to the other Stray Kids members. They’d tease Felix endlessly about how much he talks about you.

“Felix, do you have any friends besides [Your Name]?” Han would joke.

“Nope,” Felix would reply shamelessly.

The members would treat you like family, and Felix would love having you around during their schedules. You’d get to watch their rehearsals, joke around with them backstage, and be part of the fun.

And let’s not forget game nights at the dorm. Felix would absolutely drag you into Mario Kart battles, Just Dance competitions, and chaotic board games. If you beat him, he’d dramatically fall to the floor, claiming he’s been betrayed.

A Forever Friendship

At the end of the day, being best friends with Felix wouldn’t just be about the fun and chaos. It would be about unconditional love, support, and knowing that no matter what happens, you have someone who will always be there for you.

He’d be the kind of best friend who never lets you forget your worth, who makes life feel like an adventure, and who reminds you that even in the darkest times, there’s always light.

Because that’s who Felix is. A sunshine personified, a best friend anyone would be lucky to have.

[shineon3]

hi <3 how do you feel about royal AUs? Maybe with a "got betrayed by someone close and now has trust issues" twist? hope you feel better soon!

Nonny, I love royal AUs so so much!! Thank you for the prompts ❤️ I had lots of fun writing this one, even if it is a bit angsty at first :3

It’s the middle of the night, and yet here Max is, sitting in his office and torturing himself over his next speech because he hasn’t managed to sleep more than two hours in a row for the last year.

It’s ridiculous.

He can almost hear his father berating him for his childish behaviour, but he just cannot help it.

How could he let himself sleep and be at his most vulnerable, when not long ago his most trusted friend took advantage of that to try and kill him?

Somewhere, those he thought were his most trusted advisors had managed to escape after trying and failing to stage a coup and take over the kingdom. Max knew it was only a question of time before they tried again, and the thought alone scared him. 

He sighs, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on his side, the fading memory of the betrayal he had faced a year ago. The door to his office creaks, the sound deafening in the silent castle, and Max tenses, grip tightening on the letter opener he always left on his desk. It wasn’t much, but it would definitely buy him some time, and-

“Maxy? What are you doing here?”

He relaxes, tension seeping from his body. 

“Daniel. I-... I couldn’t sleep.” 

Daniel, his bodyguard, walks in the room, huffing, and finds an empty spot on the desk before sitting on it. The brunette had been hired by his council (after it had been purged of any and all traitors, of course) and, while Max had been irritated by the decision at first, he’s the first to admit that he’s glad to have Daniel watching his back, because the older knight is nothing if not thorough.

“Maxy, we talked about this,” The brunette sighs, and Max looks down, feeling like a scolded child. “I told you to let me know if you’re leaving your room. Especially at night.” 

“Sorry… I just- I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t want to bother you, and-” 

Daniel leans in, taking a hold of his jaw with gentle, albeit calloused fingers, effectively cutting him off.

“It’s my job to keep you safe, Max. I can’t do it if you don’t let me help.”

The king closes his eyes, exhaustion suddenly washing over him. He sways in his chair, missing the concerned frown on Daniel’s face.

“M sorry… There was- He was seen close to the border yesterday, and I couldn’t-”

Daniel makes a soft sound, letting go of him, and Max bites back the pathetic whine threatening to get past his lips. The brunette jumps off of the desk, his movements gracious, and he helps Max get up from his chair.

“Come on, your majesty. Let’s get you back to bed.”

The older guides him through the corridors, his arms tightly wrapped around Max, and he doesn’t let go until he tucks the blonde in bed, brushing the hair out of his forehead and pressing a kiss there. Max clutches at the brunette’s shirt as he takes a step back.

“Please-... Stay?”

Daniel chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to his forehead before climbing in the bed, settling behind Max, his arms wrapping protectively around the blonde’s waist. 

“Where else did you want me to go, darling?” 

Max hums, eyes fluttering shut. The whirlwind of thoughts that refused to let him sleep earlier has quieted, reduced to a small background noise, barely noticeable over the all encompassing feeling of safety and warmth that Daniel always made him feel. The brunette presses one last kiss to Max temple, rumbling softly. 

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”

For once, Max can believe it, because Daniel had always, always kept him safe, and so he allows himself to finally drift asleep.

[mosselines]

this did modest numbers on tiktok, i hope y’all like it too! here’s my…

✨dazai headcanons✨

but they’re all rlly specific & weird

(coming from a cosplayer who’s been in the fandom since 2016)

he has an astigmatism that went untreated for so long he’s now partially blind in his right eye. he needs glasses but hates his old pm pair and never wears them in public. he’s too lazy to get his prescription renewed/hates going to the doctor so they’re not even up to date for his vision

that’s why he’s a bad driver— he can’t fucking see

he drives/reads better if he closes one eye

mori forced him to get braces after he formally joined the port mafia. he had a lisp for the first few months and would blackmail ppl if he did it in front of them

he hid his bad vision for a long time, but mori eventually noticed and forced him to get glasses too. he fucking hated wearing them and “accidentally” kept breaking each new pair mori got

after that, mori got him contacts but he would lie and throw them out just to be defiant (totally not bc they squicked him out)

he originally started wearing his bandages because no one would touch him bc of his ability

he has awful tan lines bc of his bandages, his face and hands are tanner than the rest of his body, but since the sun can permeate light clothing/bandages he also has random splotchiness all over his body, especially his shoulders, arms, & back

in 15, dazai got so excited he was 5 cm taller than chuuya bc he was always the one being bullied for being short/malnourished before they met

at 16, chuuya grew slightly faster than dazai and started teasing him. dazai freaked out and started wearing lifts for a brief period of time. he was researching poisoning techniques to reduce growth right before he finally got his own growth spurt <3

he has chronic insomnia and is a scarily light sleeper. usually gets anywhere from 3-6 hours of sleep a night

he constantly has dark circles under his eyes as a result

whenever he shares a bed with chuuya, he’ll sleep twice as long as normal. at first, chuuya would get mad bc he was a huge brat to try and wake up, but now he lets dazai sleep in as long as he wants

his sense of taste is abysmal, which is why he likes really salty/spicy food. they’re the only flavors he can actually taste

he doesn’t decorate or furnish his ADA apartment because he’s scared that once he gets attached to the place, it’ll get taken away

he constantly beats himself up for not thinking to take odasaku’s coat with him. he bought his current one because it looked similar

he refuses to touch any of his pm salary, so it’s just kept accruing interest and is actually obscene at this point. he asked ango to “handle it” and cover banking stuff under the condition he gets to take out any expenses he wants. it irritates ango to no end that dazai won’t do anything with it

the day kunikida finds out about dazai’s pm bank account will be dazai’s final day on this earth

when he was 15 he was unironically into screamo bc “it screams for me when i can’t.” thought linkin park was super hardcore & his favorite song was “numb” (fucking loser)

he NEVER brushes his hair. like he doesn’t even own a fucking hairbrush or comb until chuuya has a conniption over it and starts keeping one at his apartment

whenever chuuya tries to brush his hair, it’s like trying to wrangle a feral cat. they’ve gotten in physical fights over it that always end with dazai pouting for the next hour while chuuya laughs at how flat his head looks without the rat’s nest

uses dollar store 9-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/bodywash/motor oil. it’s ocean breeze scented! :)

he’s had the same fake driver’s license since he was 15 and never bothered to get a real one

he actually has decent medical training from spending so much time as mori’s apprentice. about the same level as a battle medic would have. capable of stitching wounds & performing surgery, but not as good as yosano even without her ability

yosano has tried to reach out and bond with him about their shared pasts a few times, but he always comes up with an excuse to leave. she eventually gave up on asking

one time, he got badly wounded and had to be treated by yosano. she had to sedate him because her ability doesn’t work on him, and he called her mori the whole time. he doesn’t remember, but she never forgot and stopped trying to spend time with him

[byelittlebee]

GLASSES-WEARER.

headcanons, ft. nam-gyu (남규) x reader.

synopsis — someone’s probably already done this but oh well. just a collection of hcs, based around the idea that nam-gyu wears glasses, like his actor, roh jae-won.

potential cw. for the mention of recreational smoking and cannabis use. otherwise sfw and pretty goofy lol.

⋆✦ nam-gyu, though he absolutely does need glasses, does not wear them 95% of the time.

⋆✦ both because he doesn’t think he looks good in them, and because he loses them. constantly. he usually carries them in his pocket or keeps them in his car, but they’re never there. probably under his bed.

⋆✦ has contact lenses, but he only puts them in for work. he can’t be bothered otherwise.

⋆✦ probably won’t even tell you he needs them. you figure it out on your own, watching him squint at his phone like a fifty-year-old dad and shoving his face up to a box of cereal in order to read the label. he’s in his late twenties, how the hell has he made it this far?

⋆✦ eventually, you’ll probably become the person that carries his specs for him when you go out together. keep them in your bag, offer them to him when he needs them. he’s a stubborn guy and will probably accuse you of mothering him if you do, but he’s secretly very grateful. you get him out of trouble a lot.

⋆✦ if he’s not got his glasses with him, you might have to read things out for him. he’ll get grumpy about this too.

“oh my god, it’s fiiine. i don’t need your help, i know where i’m going—“ (proceeds to get you both lost because he couldn’t read the signs.)

⋆✦ this is also partially why he’s so touchy with people. yes, it’s his main love language, but he’s blind as hell. he’ll links arms with people or holds onto them specifically to get where he needs to be.

⋆✦ if you’re also a glasses wearer, a thing you might do while you’re both wearing them is lightly bump your frames together when your faces are touching. (my mother and i do this. she calls it a ‘glasses kiss.’)

⋆✦ hates the rain. if he’s wearing his glasses, it just makes him even more unable to see. his glasses will get fogged up and covered in raindrops, and he’ll be cursing in the living room cleaning them off. little things just get on his nerves about them.

⋆✦ his glasses also steam up when he smokes. if it’s a vape or a cigarette, this also just pisses him off. but if his drug of choice is weed, he’ll find it funny as hell. then bump face-first into the wall.

⋆✦ he’s not necessarily insecure. he’d rather die than admit that.. but he does secretly want to look cool in front of his buddies. we see how much he craves the validation of others in the show.

⋆✦ therefore, if you do happen to compliment how he looks in them, it’ll definitely stick with him. your opinion matters the most, after all.

“you don’t think they look too.. i don’t know, geeky?” he inquired, narrowing his eyes at you skeptically. when faced with a bright smile in response, your voice confident and sincere “of course not!”, his expression relaxes and he turns back to the mirror before him, tucking his hair behind his ears.

with your encouragement, he took another look at himself, before deciding.. yeah. maybe he would wear his glasses to work today. maybe even with a little smile on his face. just this once. y’know, for you.

⋆✦ and, dare i even say you have a thing for them? you’ll be seeing them a lot more often, then, too.

⋆✦ thanos pulls the ☝️🤓 “uhm actually” on him anytime he’s wearing them. it’s not appreciated.

so. hi. first post. hello.

these are ROUGH, definitely not my best work but i hope you like them. 😭

if anyone has any requests for any fanfics/headcanon-y posts i should make for other characters of squid game s2, let me know!! i have a crush on all of them and am hoping to get a lot more into this fandom, if i can. maybe make some friends idk.

have a good one :).