#but yeah man.. music. when i can’t draw or write

[fic-dumpster]

OMG imagine this all of bonten doing the slim pickings trend if you don’t know what that is it’s basically a guy lifting a girl (normally that’s I’ll I’ve seen of this trend sorry!)

On this shoulder and flexing that basically that they can carry their girl on their shoulder 😭😩🤤

Anyways I just imagine ❤️ Kakucho ❤️ lifting us then like all of bonten wants to prove they can do it too 🫡 ugh it hurts to even think about 😖

anyways just random thought sorry it’s so long I think I had a heart attack when I thought of this

have a good day/night pookie 💋😘🙈

Anonie, idk if I got you but I’ll see what Bonten does. LET ME TELL YOU THAT I SUFFERED /J. AHSJSKS I DONT KNOW TIKTOK JAHSKSQ IM SORRY Gosh… I can’t write serious or wholesome stuff 🤧 it’s always me and my broken sense of humor.

Slim Pickings || Bonten x Reader 1.9k+ words

cw: body image, TikTok trend, nonsense, cringe… like hundred percent logging off-phone throwing-gagging worthy cringe. constant state of chaos. not edited.

“What are you two doing?” The question came from Takeomi who just stepped into your living room to see Kakucho with you sitting on his shoulder, parading you around as both laughed and smiled.

“A TikTok trend,” you answered casually.

But before Takeomi could ask more questions, the rest of Bonten began to pop into the room.

“it’s rude to stand in the entrance,” Sanzu intentionally bumped shoulders with Takeomi. Which only gained him a tired sigh from the older man.

“We heard music!” Rindou pointed out, casually strolling in.

“And your laughter,” Ran added, walking behind him brother.

After Bonten’s three menaces made their way in, silently Mikey accompanied by Kokonoi and Mochi decided to join the crowd. The shorter man curiously peeked at your form perched on his number three..

Questions began to rain on you once they saw your phone propped up on the table with more than one video of Kakucho lifting you.

“So you just lift me and place me on your shoulders,” you explained in detail to the group of men staring at your phone screen. “Yeah, like that. See?”

“We do that on a daily basis,” pointed out Ran, not really getting where this was going.

“Yeah, we see Rindou flexing his biceps at least four times a day.” Added Sanzu, snickering with his phone out scrolling through some other videos and seeing a bunch of guys just showing off.

“This shit’s easy,” huffed Rindou, ignoring the previous comment but at the same time watching Sanzu’s screen over his shoulder.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” You rolled your eyes at the lack of initiative on their part. Although, you could guess jealousy had a part in that. They seemed bitter that your attention was solely on Kakucho.

You couldn’t have been more wrong with your statement. Bonten was not made for TikTok fame… but you didn’t know it at that time.

─────── · · ·

To see who went first they decided to draw straws… online…

You stood with Kakucho there waiting until everyone got their phones out and went to the page Rindou had shared. Lifting an eyebrow, you saw they had taken this more seriously than you had expected. Oh, yeah… they had banned Kakucho from this round.

Then you heard a groan and a bunch of hyenas laughing. First one to go? it was Kokono… and things didn’t go as planned.

“Okay, ready?” You asked a bit worried since he didn’t seem too eager to be on camera.

“Why do I have to go first?” Koko’s voice cracked a bit at the end, “you’re not posting this, right?”

A bunch of boos from the public followed Koko’s question, and by the public you mean Rindou, Ran and Sanzu. You tried to reassure him it would be alright but the damage to his pride was already done.

Once Koko’s hands were on your hips something in your gut told you that doom was imminent. He had lifted you with ease but as soon as your butt hit his shoulder, the man let out a loud whine. Somehow—someway, your zipper had gotten stuck on his silver hair. Thus, pulling it as he moved you.

“Ah! My hair! My hair!!” Koko’s desperate screams just got most of the group cracking up.

“Oh shut— ack!” You tried to stay as calm as possible, “I’m sorry!” Your eyes turned to the snickering bunch. “It’s not funny!” You held onto Koko’s head for dear life as Rindou and Sanzu avoided your gaze. The latter turned around to keep chuckling.

With his second sigh of the day, Takeomi walked towards you two, pulling Kakucho along.

“How is that this always happens to you two,” Takeomi said, trying to untangle your zipper from Koko’s hair as Kakucho steadied you on the silver-haired man’s shoulder.

After all was done, Kokonoi sat begrudgingly on the furthest sofa with a side of his long silver hair tangled in a thick mass. You smiled apologetically at him.

─────── · · ·

With a triumphant look, Rindou stood ready.

He was feeling confident after Kokonoi’s failure, but he might have gone a bit too hard… the moment he lifted you off the floor, you went flying towards the hanging lights. Thus, hitting you in the back of your head.

Everyone panicked meanwhile Mochi went for an ice pack.

It was chaos, as always—Kakucho to the rescue, he snatched you straight away from Rindou’s shoulder just in time to see Sanzu tackling the youngest Haitani. Then Ran and Takeomi began to scold the pair scuffling on the floor.

Even Mikey joined in, silently hitting Rindou in the same spot that the lamp had smacked you. Bonten’s leader walked away and kept mumbling words about how careless one could be. “An eye for an eye, Haitani.”

Just then, Mochi had walked back in to the room with an ice pack, but seeing the current situation he handed Takeomi the ice pack and went back to get a couple more.

─────── · · ·

After a prolonged discussion about safety, you suggested continuing outside which would have been fine if two people hadn’t begged you for a favor.

Ran was already smirking at you, ready to hoist you up and show the two previous failures how it was done.

And he did just that. At the count of three, you were already sitting on Ran’s shoulder. His grip was unwavering and the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster.

“Why do you always make it weird…” you mumbled once you saw Rindou visibly upset at his loss in this match.

“It’s not, though.” Ran pretended to flick a lint off his shirt, looking straight at the camera now.

It’s then that you remember the words from a certain pair—a pink and a silver head already signaling for you to take action. To keep the peace, both Haitani had to fail… miserably…

So with a deep breath, you loudly shouted something you knew Ran wouldn’t ignore. “Is that a bald spot?!” You even put a finger on his scalp to emphasize.

It happened so fast. One second you were in the air and the next you had been set down on the grass and the oldest Haitani went running to the nearest bathroom, Rindou not far behind. Not a words came out of anyone’s mouth. Meanwhile Sanzu and Koko gave you a thumbs up.

The peace had been kept. Your TikTok project began to feel more complicated than you thought it would be.

─────── · · ·

Nobody was worried about Mikey, they all knew he could easily pick you up, but Mother Nature had other plans.

“Stop laughing,” you grumbled, “it’s not that funny.”

“I’m sorry, sweetcheeks… it is…” Sanzu wheezed almost out of breath from laughing the whole day. “Mikey went straight for your pussy!”

Yes, when it was Mikey’s turn he had almost dropped you because a bee flew to his face and to his credit, he did catch you just as quick but the death-like grip went to your crotch. Which had you squealing and the clowns around you couldn’t stop laughing since then. Even Mochi and Takeomi had chuckled at the whole show.

“Haru, shut up!” You hissed, “Look! He’s sulking already!” At the sight of a brooding Mikey, everyone just went quiet. That sobered Snazu up real quick.

The Haitani brothers had just come back outside, but seeing the grey clouds on everyone’s heads they decided to slowly and carefully go back inside.

With Mikey not being in the mood anymore, the TikTok filming had to stop. Mochi and Sanzu were sad to not get a chance to try.

“Another day,” you weakly replied.

Takeomi felt a sense of relief. He wasn’t sure his back would agree today. He had lifted you before, but it was a gamble and with how everyone’s luck had been today? He didn’t wanna risk it.

─────── · · ·

Later that day, everyone was just sitting around the living room, back to where it all began. It was as normal as it could possibly get.

Most of them were on their phones, although you suspected some of them had the early videos on repeat. Sanzu and kept showing Mochi something and both just kept chuckling. Kokonoi kept checking something about the stock market and grumbling at his screen, angrily typing nonstop. Takeomi was doing the newspaper crossword puzzle and kept asking Ran some of the modern-day stuff he didn’t get. Kakucho had been in the kitchen for a while, and finally, Rindou and Mikey playing thumb fights.

Normalcy… how unusual.

“It’s actually nice… you know?” You interrupted the abnormal calmness surrounding you. “I’m in no way a flimsy thing and you all always move me around like I weigh nothing,” you voiced out your thoughts. You were laying on the couch, just thinking, truth spilling without meaning to, but alas it was out.

“The hell you mean?” Sanzu instantly snapped, throwing his phone to Mochizuki who barely had time to catch it. Bonten’s number two walked up to your resting spot and climbed on top of you. “I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean.”

“Haru…” Your wide eyes stared up at Sanzu, pink hair falling like curtains around your face.

His visceral reaction was like the spark that ignited the rest. Soon you heard the scraping sound of chairs being pulled. The lonely couch was now crowded with a bunch of angry men.

“Move,” Rindou growled as he pulled Sanzu away from you, almost throwing him off the couch. “What do you mean by that?” Now it was the youngest Haitani staring down at you with furrowed brows, and questioning your early statement. “Earlier? I almost sent you to a different fucking orbit.”

They all in their own way tried to make you understand—see what they see.

“Even Koko here can pick you up!” Ran added.

“Yeah,” Koko agreed but then realized the implications, “wait what are you trying to say?!”

Ah, this was more…normal… you giggled at the chaos that erupted around you. From the kitchen walked out Kakucho with a fresh baked bowl of cookies. Mikey didn’t have to be told twice, from the smell alone he knew what it was and took some for himself.

“Heard the commotion,” Kakucho sat next to your head on the couch, “how many times do we have to tell you that’s not important? You see us complain? No, right?” he didn’t let you answer as a cookie was already stuffed in your mouth.

“You have to see us fight to get even a second longer with you. That should tell you how much we want you,” Takeomi noted, pointing towards the Haitanis going against Sanzu and Koko a couple of feet away.

“This is why social media is hazardous,” Mochi announced, holding a cookie between his fingers.

“Body imag—” began Takeomi but he was cut short.

“It’s nothing. You’re just old.” Sanzu rebuked, interrupting his older brother just to spite him. forgotten was Rinodu who went to back up Ran.

The Akashi brothers continued on their intense debate, Mochi adding his opinion here and there as Kakucho kept feeding you and Mikey cookies.

[scarletwinterxx]

benefit of friends - kim mingyu imagine

god really made this man to be the most perfect one😭 how to get your own kim mingyu (asking for a friend) lol anyways hope you like this one!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing.

Work is work. Fun is fun. Feelings? Well, they’re like those receipts stuffed into your wallet... you’ll deal with them later.

Your arrangement with Mingyu, your ridiculously handsome coworker-turned-“friend-with-benefits,” was supposed to fall neatly into the “fun” category.

No strings, no expectations, no messy emotions.

But tonight, at the company dinner, you’re beginning to realize that neatly labeled boxes have a way of getting jumbled when Mingyu’s around.

The restaurant is buzzing with chatter, glasses clinking, and the hum of soft music in the background. His deep, warm laugh carries over the noise, drawing glances from everyone at your table. He’s always been effortlessly charming, with his broad shoulders, that perfect smile, and a sense of humor that’s impossible to resist.

And right now, someone else seems to have noticed.

A junior marketing associate, her name slips your mind, but she’s all bright eyes and flirty giggles. She's leaning just a little too close to him. Her hand grazes his arm as she laughs at something he said, and you swear you see her fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary.

Your chest tightens, and you quickly take a sip of your wine, hoping the bitterness will drown the unfamiliar feeling clawing its way up your throat.

Jealousy.

It’s ridiculous, really. You and Mingyu aren’t together.

You’ve both made it clear: this is casual. Easy. No messy emotions, remember?

So why does it bother you so much when he leans in to whisper something to her, his grin widening as she laughs again?

“Are you okay?” a colleague asks, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, forcing a smile.

But your eyes can’t help darting back to Mingyu.

Later, as the group begins to thin out, people leaving one by one, you make your way to the bar for another drink.

You need something. Anything to steady your nerves. You’re swirling your glass idly when you feel someone slide onto the stool beside you.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Mingyu says, his voice low and teasing.

You don’t turn to look at him immediately. “I’m just tired,” you lie.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning a little closer. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, and it makes your heart race.

“Tired? Or… distracted?”

That gets your attention. You glance at him, and he’s watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he already knows exactly what’s on your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning indifference.

“Oh, don’t you?” He grins, and it’s infuriatingly attractive. “You’ve been glaring daggers at poor Mina all night.”

So that’s her name. Mina.

“I wasn’t glaring,” you snap, a little too defensively.

He laughs softly, leaning even closer until his shoulder brushes yours. “You were. And, for the record, it was kind of cute.”

“I wasn’t jealous, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Really?” His voice drops, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. “Because it looked a lot like jealousy to me.”

You turn to face him fully, ready to argue, but the words catch in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you—intense, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips before meeting yours again.

“Mingyu,” you start, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“Relax,” he says, smirking. “I wasn’t interested in her, anyway.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and you hate how much that admission makes your pulse race. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, turning back to your drink.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice warm and teasing, “but you like me anyway.”

The car ride home is quieter than usual. Mingyu insisted on sharing a ride, though you suspect it’s less about convenience and more about prolonging the teasing

As the car pulls up to your apartment, you hesitate for a moment. You should say goodnight and leave it at that.

But when Mingyu’s hand brushes yours as he moves to open the door, your resolve wavers.

“Want to come up?” you ask, your voice casual, though your heart is anything but.

He smiles knowingly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Your apartment feels smaller with Mingyu in it. The tension that’s been simmering all night seems to boil over as he follows you inside, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You know,” he says, his tone teasing but softer now, “if you’re going to get jealous every time someone flirts with me, we might have to renegotiate this whole ‘just friends’ thing.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you say again, though even you don’t believe it this time.

“Sure,” he says, stepping closer. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can come up with a retort, his hand cups your cheek, and suddenly you forget how to speak.

“Mingyu,” you whisper, but he cuts you off with a kiss—soft at first, almost tentative, before it deepens. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

You don’t remember moving, but somehow you end up against the kitchen counter, his lips trailing down your neck as your hands tangle in his hair.

“You’re impossible,” you murmur, though it comes out more like a sigh.

“And yet,” he says, his breath warm against your skin, “you keep me around.”

His lips find yours again, and this time there’s no teasing, no games, just the kind of intensity that leaves you breathless and wondering how you ever thought you could keep this casual.

Later, as you lie tangled together on your couch, his arm draped lazily over your waist, you realize your carefully labeled boxes have completely unraveled.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with that.

It starts at a casual get-together with some of your friends. Mingyu wasn’t supposed to come. You invited him half-jokingly, figuring he’d have better things to do on a Friday night. But to your surprise, he’d shown up, effortlessly sliding into the group as if he’d always been part of it.

And now, you wish he hadn’t.

Not because you’re upset he’s here.

Far from it.

Mingyu has a way of making everything more fun. It’s just that you’re too aware of him, standing across the room, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds like he’s keeping tabs on you.

You’re talking to a guy.

what was his name again? Jae? Jin? Mingyu thought to hinself.

The guy has clearly been angling for your attention all night but you don’t notice. You’re oblivious to the way he leans a little too close when he speaks or the way his hand brushes yours unnecessarily as you reach for your drink.

Mingyu notices, though.

From his spot by the makeshift bar, he’s gripping his glass a little too tightly, his jaw clenched as he watches the scene unfold. He tells himself it’s fine—you’re not his, and he has no right to feel this way. But when Jae-or-whatever laughs a little too loud at something you’ve said, leaning in like he’s about to touch you, something snaps.

Before he knows it, he’s crossing the room.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, his voice smooth but laced with an edge as he steps between you and Jason, casually sliding his arm around your waist. “Didn’t realize you’d made a new friend.”

“Mingyu? What are you doing?” You blink up at him, surprised

“Just thought I’d check in,” he says, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. His gaze shifts to Jason, who suddenly looks less sure of himself. “Who’s this?”

Jason clears his throat. “Uh, I’m Joon. We were just talking.”

“Talking, huh?” Mingyu says, his smile sharp. “That’s nice. But I think she’s good here.”

“Mingyu—” you start, but he’s already steering you away, his hand firm on your lower back.

You glance back at Joon, who’s standing there awkwardly, but Mingyu doesn’t let you linger. He leads you out onto the balcony, where the cool night air hits your skin.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, spinning to face him.

“What was that?” he counters, his voice low and tense. “That guy was all over you.”

“He was not!” you protest. “We were just talking.”

“You’re so oblivious sometimes, you know that? He wasn’t just talking, he was hitting on you.”

You cross your arms, irritation bubbling up. “And what if he was? It’s not like you get to decide who I talk to.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he steps closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

“Maybe I don’t,” he says quietly, his voice dangerously calm. “But I didn’t like it.”

Your breath catches. His proximity, the intensity in his gaze—it’s overwhelming

“Why do you even care?” you ask, though your voice is softer now, less sure. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and suddenly the world feels smaller, like it’s just the two of you on that balcony.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Your heart pounds as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours

“I care,” he murmurs, his voice rough with something that feels too big to name, “because you’re mine.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable.

“Mingyu—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves you breathless. It’s not soft or tentative like before—it’s possessive, claiming, as if he’s trying to prove something to both of you.

You don’t resist. Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as his hands slide to your waist, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you finally break apart, both of you breathing hard, he rests his forehead against yours again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we said no feelings. No strings. But I can’t help it. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

Your chest tightens, and for once, you don’t push him away. Instead, you reach up to trace the line of his jaw, your touch soft.

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but there’s no heat in your words. “But I guess you're my idiot.”

His smile is equal parts relief and triumph. “Damn right I am”

Back inside, the party continues without you, but neither of you cares. You end up in your apartment again, the tension between you finally boiling over.

This time, there’s no hesitation, no teasing. Just the two of you giving in to what’s been building for weeks. His hands are everywhere, mapping every inch of your skin like he’s memorizing you, and when you pull him down onto the couch, he follows without question.

“Say it again,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough and low as his lips trail downward.

“Say what?” you manage, your breath hitching as his hands slide under your shirt.

“That you’re mine,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, hidden beneath all the confidence.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m yours,” you whisper, and the way his expression softens makes your heart ache.

“Good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m yours too.”

And this time, when he kisses you, it feels like a promise.

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 16:63 ⏤BABY FEVER

SUM. : you and remus meet an adorable baby while grocery shopping

TAGS. : husband remus ; wife reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; married au ; baby fever ; mentions of birth control ; honeymoon phase ; domestic fluff

LENGTH : 0.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

You and Remus were doing your weekly shop, list in hand as he pushed the shopping cart beside you. It’s a peaceful routine the two of you got into after making it official and moving in together. Every Friday, after the two of you got off work, he’d pick you up and you’d both go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.  

“Should we buy welsh cakes or make them ourselves?” you mutter aloud as Remus chuckles beside you. 

“You mean ‘or you make them’, you know I’m useless around ovens,” he presses an affectionate kiss against your temple and smiles at the giggle it draws from your pretty lips — music to his ears. People said it was impossible to stay in the honeymoon phase of your relationship for so long but you and Remus debunked all of that. From a distance, the two of you still looked like newlyweds. 

“I suppose I have some time to make a few batches after we get home today,” you smile at your husband, “we can have some before tea,” 

“Sounds like a plan, dove,” Remus agrees and, as you add a small bag of self-raising flour to your cart, you hear a cry to your right and turn to see a baby perched in the cart seat, reaching its small pudgy hands down for a small dog plush they must have dropped. To the left of the baby, you saw, who you assumed was the child’s mother softly ask what the matter was, her brows furrowed from worry. It appears as though she didn’t see that her child had dropped their toy. 

Before you could take action, Remus was already handing the small plush back to the child, “here you go,” he whispers softly, “no more tears now,”

The mother flashed a smile at your husband, “Thank you so much,” she then turned to her child, “let’s say thank you to the kind man, darling,” she took the child’s small wrist and made them wave at you and Remus, who moved to stand beside you with an adoring smile on his face. Seeming to understand what their mother was asking of them, the baby gives a gummy grin with the few teeth they had as their eyes disappear behind their pudgy, flushed cheeks. At this, the mother gave one final grateful smile before moving on with her shopping, her baby hugging their beloved plush to their chest. 

“How cute,” Remus mutters, smiling and waving a final goodbye at the baby as he gradually begins to realise how quiet you’ve been. 

“Remus…” he looks at you with soft eyes as yours become rounded when looking up at him, they sparkled with want as you push your bottom lip out into a pout. It’s a look he’s familiar with; it’s the one you always pulled when you wanted something so he’s quick to anticipate any request you wanted to make.

“Yes, dove?”

“I want a baby,” 

“A–...” speechless, Remus stares at you with his jaw slackened and his eyes wide. A heat crawls up his neck and floods his cheeks as he stiffens in the hopes that the tightening of his pants weren’t just his imagination, “a…a baby?...”

“Yeah…” your whining voice makes a heat pool in his lower abdomen and, just when he thought you couldn’t make things worse, your arms wrap around his torso to squeeze him close. He looks down with red cheeks as you place your chin on his chest and continue pouting, “I want a baby now!”

“D-Dove— we can’t–”

“Why not?” 

“..y-you’re on birth control–!”

“I’ll get off it,” you quickly reply, grinning up at him like the little minx you are. He knows that you can see the profound effect your statement has on him, “please, honey~” like all of your requests before, Remus can’t say no to you. 

He’ll give you a baby and he’s not going to wait for you to get off birth control. 

NAVI.

A/N : i'm dying from a horrible flu and fever but i had to write this before i lost the inspiration to, again, this was inspired by tiktok XD i hope you darlings enjoy! i'll try to get better as soon as possible so i can get back to writing again ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

TAGLIST : @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani

[admirationandromantics]

Could you please write something about Chris or Josh with a virgin reader? How they'd react when they found out? How their first time would be like? Both of them strike me as virgins as well but idk🤷‍♀️

Yes, I also imagine both of them as virgins. Josh seems like he’s been all talk, no action. And Chris? Well, I feel that one is obvious. Anyways, I’ll do both in this post, and for the sake of the writing, the reader is the only virgin, not the guys. They’ve both had sex before. Just because it’s easier to work with. Anyway, enjoy <3 

Chris

He’s not surprised when you tell him, he did not think you were, but the reveal gives him a little comfort as well. Why, you ask? Because he doesn’t need to match himself up to someone else. He’s confident in his ways, and that he can make you feel good, but at the same time, this guy will never stop being insecure, and that small part of it relieved him a little. 

What he also does feel anxious about is the fact that he’ll be your first. And what do people say about their first time? Awkward, weird, nothing went as planned… He wants to make sure that your first time goes well, and that it was a good experience. “I promise, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy” “Yeah, yeah. But I’m gonna make you happy for another reason than that too” 

If you are the VERY romantic type, he’ll set everything up. A nice dinner, candles, music etc. He wants you to remember this, and trust me, remember you will. 

One of his goals is to drag out the foreplay as long as possible, wanting you to be drenched and needy for him. Better to go too slow than too quick. This makes the makeout session last way longer than necessary, and you’re starting to get impatient. “C-Chris, I need you now” “No, no, just a little bit longer” he whispers, hand in your hair, pulling you towards him. 

It’s firstly when you start unconsciously grinding on his thigh that he finally understands how down-bad you are, and he starts working on your clothing. He’s fast and gentle with his hands, easily unclasping and removing your bra. 

The cold air hitting your nipples while he admires you, hands groping and lips sucking. You can’t do anything but throw your head back, gripping his shoulders for support as he continues his assault. 

You guys move on, getting each other's clothes off, and him getting on top of you, fingers digging into your heat as you whimper. He continuously asks if you’re okay, if you’re in pain or uncomfortable. 

“You sure you want to keep going?” “Y-yes” “I can stop if-” “I swear, I’ll kill you if you stop now” “Oh? well then” a smile creeping on his lips as he drags out his fingers. 

He positions himself, using your juices as lube as he slowly moves up and down, getting ready. “Okay, we’re gonna take this slow, okay?” You nod, taking a deep breath as he fills you up, small moans leaving your mouth. He leans over you, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss, swallowing each of your sounds while pressing into you. 

“How’re you feeling?” “Fuck, just give me a couple of seconds” you whisper, adjusting and comprehending. He smiles, nodding and spending the time kissing your upper body, everything from your lips down to your breasts. 

After a while, you give him the signal, urging him to start moving. He obliges, always watching your reactions attentively to be sure you’re okay. 

As the night draws to a close, you spend the night in his arms, sleeping and cuddling. Of course, when you were done, he had a glass of water ready for you, packing you deep into the sheets and caressing your hair. 

Josh

Josh is not surprised that you’re a virgin. His suggestive comments here and there getting you so riled up that he only made the assumption. He does not feel that much pressure, only wanting your time with him to go well. 

He can be really romantic, each touch he makes both attentive and calculated. When you’re making out, he’s respectful until you ask him not to be, causing a rougher man to grope and bite you. He still doesn’t go the full way, wanting to be careful and make sure that some type of trust is established before going to second base. 

One day, you’re laying on his bed, a movie playing in the background when your attention turns to each other. This leads to a long make out session, clothes thrown across the room, but still not going further than your underwear. 

You’re hot and bothered, wanting him to take you right now. You smile as you feel him growing hard beneath you, reciprocating that craving. Thighs around his torso, ass on his pelvis, you lean down, leaving kisses on his neck and asking. “Josh, I want you” “Right now? Are you sure?” “Yes” 

He spins you around, making you gasp from your back hitting the mattress. His hands wander over your chest, going behind and unclasping your bra. You sit up a bit, helping him take it off, throwing the garment on the floor. 

“And you want to do this?” “Yes, I do” “Right now” “Are you not up for it?” “Holy fuck, I’m holding back with every fiber of my being” “Stop holding back” 

He watches you while pushing himself into you, making sure that you’re not getting hurt, and can stop at any time. He captures your lips in his, both of your moans filling the room every time you stop for air. 

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight” You can only whimper in reply, feeling him fill you up, struggling to control himself as he wants to ravage you. He gives you time to adjust, letting you signal to him when he can start moving. 

When you’re done, he holds you, praising you and asking how it was. He’s attentive and sweet, asking if you would like a bath or a shower.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)

grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader

summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.

warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)

mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.

THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!

“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.

eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.

you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.

you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.

"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.

"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"

you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"

౨ৎ

“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.

“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.

"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."

"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."

౨ৎ

your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.

a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.

you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.

“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.

the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?

as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”

“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.

the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”

you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”

“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.

"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."

his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."

"so why'd you...?"

chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.

“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)

the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.

you go back up to chris once you’re finished.

“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.

chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.

(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.

he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.

“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”

but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.

“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.

“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?

you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.

“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.

“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”

his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.

you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.

you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.

you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.

“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.

you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.

“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”

you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.

he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.

a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?

“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.

“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.

you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.

the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.

eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”

you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”

he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”

he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.

the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”

you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.

you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”

“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.

“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”

matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.

“huh? you can’t share music?”

“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.

“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”

“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.

“matt?”

he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.

once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”

he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.

౨ৎ

there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”

when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.

you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”

you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.

you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.

after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.

when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.

"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.

"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.

you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."

"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.

"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.

chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."

౨ৎ

"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.

she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).

"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.

"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."

"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."

"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.

"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"

"mhmm."

"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[multifariousqueer]

Miles G and Miles Morales Headcannons: Twin Edition

For reference: miles g will be called Milo

A/n: AHHHH ITS GOOD TO BE BACK BABES!!! Ik new fics And pt.2’s are Coming soon, works been a killer and I’ve been going through stuff but it’s good to be back writing for my boys. Requests are closed but opening up soon 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Warnings: none

Miles Morales:

Is like 4 inches taller but makes it feel like 4 feet

Nicer and a bit more approachable

Loves being in pictures and making funny faces

Dog person

Can’t cook for shit but tries so hard for his mom

They have their own little dates and things

His side of the room is a mess

I feel like he played an instrument in the past when he was a kid

Maybe Piano or guitar

He’s a loner by default but he would have more friends if he wasn’t so busy being Spider-Man

He def takes pictures of sunsets from the tips of buildings

Used to color code outfits with Milo but stopped when they were 12

Same with baths but they were 7 for that

His side of the room is disgusting. Like shit is crawling

There’s a single chair with all of his stuff on it

He brings Ganke over sometimes but Ganke took a stronger liking to Milo bc he’s chill

“Yeah man idk if i can come. Is Milo gonna be there?”

Milo doesn’t give a shit but secretly loves Gankes company

They chill and play video games

Miles is also better at video games than Milo

Whenever he gets stuck on a level, he hands the controller to him

He’s more affectionate than Milo

Will draw you and touch you more

Very smart but he has his moments

Definitely more book smart then Street smart

Doesn’t know basic things and code within the streets so sometimes Milo has to help him

Overall, he’s a sunflower child and we love him 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Milo Morales

Was def born First but is shorter than Miles and Miles makes fun of him for it

Plays basketball with Uncle Aaron sometimes and he’s pretty good at it

Played the violin or cello at some point in his life

“Don’t forget im older than you” “im sorry is someone speaking?”

Is more violent than Miles but it’s because he’s the Prowler

Takes more time for him to warm up to you but once he does, he’s stuck on you for life

Will spoil you with Gifts

Speaking of… him and Miles get into it regularly over it, when they fight physically they sometimes slip and use their real names

He’s a mamas boy FR. This man loves his mama

Will make fun of Miles for being a no sabes kid

Sometimes, him and Rio will speak in Spanish in front of Miles and he’ll just stare at them hoping to recognize a word

“Hey you said cabròn, i heard that!”

He’s more of a cat person then Miles

Yells at Miles for creasing his Jordan’s

“Nah homie, you gotta apologize to the J’s they didn’t deserve that”

Is a loner by choice whereas Miles is a loner by default

This man hasn’t smiled in YEARSSS

He hangs out with Uncle Aaron more than his dad

He seems like his side of the room would be cleaner than Miles

“Milo! Have you seen my- Oh Nevermind! I found it” “yeah”

Has an rbf but once you get to know him, hes kinda nice

Takes the pictures in the family

Learned to cook from his mom and regularly cooks with her while speaking Spanish

It’s so freaking cute oml. Like if there’s music playing, he will spin her to the music and everything and they will laugh

He’s not a snowbunny lol. He’s down with the brown

He seems like he wears 100 million cologne

Smells better and is more put together than Miles

Overall, he’s more razor sharp

More nonchalant

Definitely is a tad bit jealous that Miles is apart of a spider society

[pear1escence]

When no one’s around (18+)

Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Smut, blowjob, fingering, light degradation.

A/N: Writing this was such a pain, could only finish that last part cus I was in the horny😞 2,3k words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You can’t seem to get comfortable on the couch. Not with the lack of a pillow behind you, instead having the edge of the armrest digging into the back of your head, not with the couch pillows that aren’t soft enough to really sink into. No, the couch in Keegan’s home office was really just for decoration, to fill up the space of the room, another touch you’d added to piff up the space to your liking.

The sound of his computer keys merge with the sound of your music as he clicks away at it. He’s entirely focused on his work, much to your displeasure. This wasn’t at all what you’d had in mind for the evening, but he was a busy man, and you didn’t want to disturb him when he had work to finish up.

You can’t seem to stay still, hands jittering from the book in your lap to your phone to change playlists, or scroll away on Pinterest. He hasn’t even glanced over at you. Hasn’t said anything to you during the half hour that you’ve spent in there. Ugh.

You seem to catch his attention with your constant shuffling, though, and he huffs out a laugh as those pale blue eyes finally meet yours. “Come over here, baby. Keep me company.” That gorgeous, deep tone of his voice, sweet and intoxicating like honey, finally drawing you out of your boredom.

You’re at his side in a moment, his arm reaching around your waist to pull you over his lap. It’s not hard to make yourself comfortable on the width of his thighs, the soft fabric of his sweats underneath your bare legs. “Been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He murmurs, voice laced with humor. His arm stays around your waist, the short sleeve of his shirt pulled around his bicep and showing off his well-earned muscles.

Your hand traces down his arm to take his, your fingers playing with his hand while it slips underneath your shirt to rub at the side of your stomach. “Mhm, you have.” Your head tips back, placing a kiss on his neck, the comforting smell of him calming you.

His other hand leaves his keyboard as well, finding its place massaging the chubbiness of your inner thigh. His legs spread wider, and in response you spread your thighs to accommodate, pressing yourself closer to him. You’re not sure if you’ve imagined the sharp breath that leaves him, but no, it’s just been a little too long since you’ve had time for each other, time lost to his near constant travels and your own work.

“M‘sorry, doll. Been ignoring my girl, hm? Left you to please yourself all on your own?” The way his voice gets so deep when he speaks quietly. God. “Fuck, it’s been long, huh?” He laughs, and yeah, you feel his cock swelling underneath you. His hand moves to cup your cunt through the fabric of your sweatshirts, a sigh leaving you at the pressure of his hand, your cotton panties rubbing against your clit.

“Too long.” You mutter, “Missed the way you touch me.” And fuck, you really have. Your fingers can’t compare to the way his fingers can fill you up, can’t come close to the way the thickness of his cock stretches you out so well.

You move your hips in a teasing, circular motion, a deliciously deep groan leaving his lips as his thighs jut forwards. In return, he grinds his cock against your ass, the additional feeling of his hand pressing onto you causing you to whine in anticipation.

His hands move to push both your shorts and underwear off your thighs, hoisting your thighs over his to gain him access. He raises his hand, sucking his fingers into his mouth to coat them in his spit before he moves to rub his fingertips over your clit.

Your back arches against his chest, legs spreading wider. “Mmf…Keegan..” you whine, a drawn out, needy little sound. His fingers move in slow circles, his head leaning forwards to bite and suck at your neck. “Needy fucking thing, aren’t you?” His voice is just a murmur, words spoken directly into your ear and sending jolts down your body. “Can’t get yourself off properly on your own?” His finger rubs at your core, dipping into your cunt, causing an embarrassing whine to leave your lips.“No, no…you need me for that, can’t make yourself feel as good as I can.” He’s being mean, fuck, that mocking tone in his voice, you can feel your pussy get slicker with the need for the pleasure he could give you.

He pushes two fingers into you, and ffffuck if it doesn’t feel good. Pumping inside you and out in quick movements, rubbing at that spot he knows send jolts of pleasure up your stomach. His other hand presses down on your stomach, increasing the pleasure, and your hand on his bicep squeezes desperately for support, your sounds filling the room. Fuck, it’s not fair, the way he knows just how to touch you to get you like this.

“Feels good, yeah? Can’t even leave you to yourself for a week? you just get so fuckin’ desperate for me, sweet girl.”

Your fingers reach down to stop him, the attempt pathetic, weak, but his movements slow. You turn your body around to straddle him, your hand moving over the bulge of his cock in his sweats, palming his hard-on through the fabric. The groan that leaves his lips makes you want to get on your knees and suck him off just to hear the other noises he’d make.

Keegan’s hand moves to weave itself in the root of your hair, pulling your head up to meet your eyes. He’s got that almost hazy look in his eyes, probably mirroring your own expression, his breath heavy. “You wanna get on your knees? Suck me off?” His words send shocks through your stomach, a whine leaving your lips. His thumb traces your bottom lip, moving to dip into your parted lips. Your tongue gives the pad of his thumb a little lick, your lips closing around it and sucking at his thumb.

He slaps your cheek with his other hand, an amused look in his eyes. “Words, baby, wanna hear you say it. Gone stupid on me, have you, dollface?” His thumb stays on your bottom lip while his other hand moves downwards. He flicks your clit, causing you to jump and earn a laugh from him, before he rubs slow, small circles over your clit, immediately easing the pain.

You rock back and forth, chasing the pleasure of his fingers rubbing at you. “Yes, yeah, fuck…wanna make you…ffeel good too, Keegs…”

He smiles in an almost teasing manner, his hand reaching up to squeeze a handful of your ass. “C’mon then, pretty girl..on your knees.”

Your bare knees rub against the rough fabric of the carpet as you shuffle onto the floor. You place your hands on his thighs, feeling the fabric of his sweats by running them up and down before coming up to his waistband. You shuffle his sweats down to his knees, exposing the loose boxers sitting around his waist. He’s hard as a rock underneath that black fabric, a wet mark over the swell of his tip where he’s leaking pre.

You hum in approval, causing him to chuckle, his hand coming up to bury itself in the root of your hair. “Hurry up.” He mutters, and you glare at him, rolling your eyes. He’s got that snarky, annoying smirk on his face, making you consider the option of leaving him to pleasure himself, just for a moment. Nah. He’s too tempting right now.

You wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him through the fabric of his boxers. You’re growing slow, so fucking slowly that you can see the annoyance growing in his eyes. You laugh, a grin spreading across your face much to his annoyance, and his hands find the hem of his waistband almost immediately to pull them down and out of the way.

“So impatient,” you mutter, sending him a quick, alluring smile.

You spit into the palm of your hand, reach out to touch him. He inhales sharply, and you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tense of his thighs if you weren’t staring so intensely. You want to stretch this out for long, pull his patience thin, get him all riled up and frustrated, and your eyes flicker to his face to gage his reaction.

Your fingertips trace over the reddened, sensitive skin of his tip, barely skimming over the area, moving downwards to travel down the underside of his length, down to the root of his cock. He doesn’t look annoyed. Instead, there’s a look of confidence in his eyes, calm, so like him. His eyes roam over you, taking in your features, the sparkle in your eyes, glossed lips and your teasing smile. Fuck, he’s hot.

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter, the way he seems so content to let you play with him like this, leaned back on his chair, just admiring the pretty girl on her knees in front of him, his pretty girl. He has an air of dominance around him, even though you’re the one controlling his pleasure right now. Not aggressive, not particularly sexual either, just an unspoken agreement between the two of you that Keegan is in control.

Two of your fingers connect with your thumb to wrap around him, stroking along the length of his cock, your thumb coming up to rub circles around his tip while you lean forwards to lap at his balls. Your free hand comes up to trace the skin along his inner thigh, and his moving to rest on the back of your neck. Your lips wrap around his balls, coating them in your saliva before his hand pushes you closer, making you shift your attention to lick a trail up his dick. He hums in approval, his thighs spreading further.

Your lips wrap around the tip of his cock, suckling gently while your tongue swirls around the tip. “Thaaats it, good girl.” He groans, his eyes meeting yours when you look up at him through your eyelashes. You flatten your tongue along his shaft, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper. One of your hands fondling his balls, slick with your spit, the other stroking his cock while you suck him off. The hand on your head kneading into your hair, pushing you to take more of him. “C’mon, take me deeper, fuckkk, you’re such a slut for me.” He groans.

His hand keeps guiding you, forcing your head further down, your mouth stuffed with his cock. You moan around him, the taste of his pre bitter on your tongue, you gag when he finally pushes your head all the way down. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, sucking me off like a fucking whore. Should keep you on your knees all the time while I work, hm? Make time pass by a lot faster, you want that?” His voice getting all deep and throaty.

You can barely catch your breath, flattening your tongue along his dick while he bobs your head up and down. You’re almost ashamed of how much you enjoy it, the way he uses your mouth for his pleasure like this, your panties soaked through with your wetness. You don’t notice his hand has moved before he slaps you across the face, hard, with the hand on your head keeping you in place. “Answer me.” He speaks, your eyes brimming with tears as you look back at him. He smirks as he pushes you back down on his cock, causing you to whine in surprise, and you can’t form proper words with your mouth stuffed. “Yes,” you whimper, sounding more like an ‘eth’, and he chuckles in response, gripping your hair with more force and moving you along his cock. His noises grow in volume as his movements grow faster, deep groans leaving his mouth as his head falls back against the back of his chair.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good, you’re so good.” He groans, a broken moan of your name escaping him. His back curves, and he slides further towards the edge of his seat. His hand grips your hair tightly, roughly bobbing your head up and back down his cock. “M’close, so fucking close, babydoll.” He moans, “Gonna paint that pretty face with my cum, shit.”

He was babbling mindlessly, drunk on pleasure and solely focused on how good you felt around his cock. “Fuckkk, doll, love that pretty fucking mouth, love the way you suck my cock, taking me like a fucking slut.” He groans, and you look up at him to catch the expression on his face. He’s struggling to keep his eyes on you, his brows knotted together in pleasure, biting his lip so hard you’re surprised he hasn’t drawn blood.

“Shit, m’ so fuuucking close, baby, i’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna cum, all over that gorgeous face, shiiit-“ his eyes rolling back as his thighs jut upwards, causing you to gag as his cock hits the back of your throat, “Gonna fucking-“ his hand harshly pull you off his cock as he grips his cockshaft, stroking himself desperately. You stick your tongue out for him, your eyes completely fixated on his face, the way his mouth drops open in pleasure, a strum of ‘fuck fuck fuck’s leaving his mouth as a string of white cum shoots out, coating your tongue and your face as he moans desperately, fucking gone in pleasure.

When the high of his orgasm fades, he slumps back on his chair, his arms slung onto the armrests. His chest heaves as he takes in one heavy breath after the other, eyes remaining closed. You breathe out a laugh, swallowing the spend that landed on your tongue as his hand comes up to caress your cheek. He breathes out a ‘thank you’ before his hand falls to rest on his knee.

[humbledragon669]

S2E3 - I Know Where I'm Going Write Up P1 - up to the credits (present day)

Tiny bit of trivia about me that I’m sure nobody really cares about - as of Christmas just gone, I own my own version of Jim’s mug. It’s definitely one of the top three presents I got (one of the others is a GO themed long-sleeved t-shirt), and I absolutely have been using it to drink hot chocolate out of. I LOVE it.

Anyway, it’s Easter egg time! Yeah, that’s right, this one appears right at the beginning of the episode. And I suspect that many people will already have noted this one, but as I’ve said before, you never know. So here it is:

That’s the music instrument shop across the road from the bookshop, called “Arnolds”, presumably for the soundtrack composer for Omens - David Arnold. Obvious though it may be, it’s a bit “blink-and-you’d-miss-it”, so I felt like it was worth drawing attention to, just to reiterate the level of care and attention on display in this show that we all know and love. And whilst I have my attention-to-detail hat on, I have a brief point of speculation to make about Jim’s location in this opening shot. Given his view across the street, and the limited view we get into the room behind him (I’m thinking mostly about the lamp you can just about make out over his shoulder), this would appear to be Jim’s bedroom. In front of him is a tray with his mug and a container of hot chocolate on it. There’s even a trail of hot chocolate powder in between the mug and the container, as if someone has been a bit careless when spooning the cocoa from the pot into the cup (no judgement, I do this ALL the time). Before breaking away from this shot, we see Jim pouring boiling water into the mug from an electric kettle. All perfectly understandable actions for a set-up to show a man looking out over his neighbourhood, right? So my speculation is this, and I am jumping ahead a little. Why is it necessary for Crowley to leave the room when offering to make Jim a cup of hot chocolate in a later episode? It would seem that all the equipment required is right there in Jim’s bedroom. Sounds like another instance of scriptual convenience to me, albeit a small one. Anyway, enough pedantry, let’s move on.

It's taken me ages, but I’ve worked out what the music is playing in the background of the coffee shop. Unsurprisingly it’s another Queen tune - “Radio Ga Ga” this time. Given the lyrics, which speak of a fond farewell to a medium that no longer has relevance given more modern offerings, I wonder if this might be a reference to the state of Nina’s relationship with Lindsey at this point? Aside from that potential insight, I can’t really say there’s an awful lot about this scene that I like. Obviously Nina is still being her unlikeable self (checking her phone whilst she’s in the middle of serving someone? Not being funny, I would genuinely walk out of a coffee shop if a barista did that to me), but now we’re “introduced” to another fairly abrupt character, but this time we don’t even learn her name. Poor Mrs. Sandwich, she turns out to be an incredible likeable addition to the show, but in my opinion, she really doesn’t get to shine here. And what’s the point of this scene really? So that we can get a long shot of Muriel’s arrival and have it hammered home that their appearance is visible and noted as odd by the people in Whickber Street? If that’s the case, honestly this whole scene feels pretty unnecessary, but perhaps that’s just me.

Now. I did a little bit of digging about the way that Muriel introduces themself, because this stereotype is familiar to me, but I have no idea where it comes from. There’s a lovely bit of hive mind research been done here, which suggests the origin of the phrasing is over 100 years old but personally my money is on this being a nod to Monty Python (as detailed in that forum post), particularly as it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen a Python reference in the show (NIAT RUC, I’m looking at you). I think there might be another little homage here though, and this one if a bit more niche. It’s to do with the whistling in the soundtrack, heard here:

It rang bells with me, and unlike the backing music in the coffee shop earlier, this one didn’t actually take me very long. Back in the mid-90s, there was a sit-com show here in the UK called The Thin Blue Line, which followed the personal and professional lives of a group of policemen from an English town. The policemen in question were of both the uniformed (commonly called “bobbies”, or “on-the-beat”) and non-uniformed variety. Muriel is most definitely dressed as one of the former. Here’s the theme tune from that show:

Not too dissimilar, are they? I couldn’t find any evidence for whether the theme we hear in the Omens soundtrack is an homage to the theme from The Thin Blue Line or not. Perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious thing, though I highly doubt that. I would so love it if this was an intentional reference to that little copper comedy from the 90s - it ran for only 2 seasons, but I remember watching every episode when it aired and finding the whole thing really funny. I don’t know how well it will have aged, but I do remember that (bearing in mind this was the mid-90s) its casting was progressive - an Asian woman and a gay man both playing lead roles and part of the police force, with the characters most commonly ridiculed for being wrong and unreasonable being the middle-aged white men.  It was perhaps a little slapstick in places, and intrinsically “British” in its humour, but I still feel like it was a delightful addition to our televisions, so if this is a tip-of-the-hat to the show, I feel it’s well placed. Right, time to move on, this is supposed to be a write up of a Good Omens episode, not an appreciation post for long-dead British TV shows.

It's pretty difficult to say with any certainty, but I don’t think Aziraphale recognises Muriel when they arrive. Granted, he wouldn’t have seen or spoken to them in quite some time (since his defection from Heaven at the latest, though the only time we see them interacting is in the Uz flashbacks), but given the conversation he had with them during the Job debacle, you’d think he might at least realise he’d seen their face before? Particularly given the memories he has so recently lived through. Don’t get me wrong, he clearly knows they’ve come from Heaven, but that outfit pretty much gives the game away on that front, and he has been told to expect a visit from an auditor. Doesn’t take him long to decide to play along either.

I really love this moment - I’m pretty sure that this is where he decides not only to pretend he doesn’t know Muriel is there to check up on his miracle claims, but to be gentle about his interactions with them. He's recognised the joy that Muriel is getting out of the situation and decided that the nicest thing to do will be to let them enjoy the ride, which can only happen if the pretence is maintained. Subtle as it is, I actually think this is one of Aziraphale’s clearest indications of his Good nature - faced with a similar situation, many people (Crowley included, as we’ll come to see shortly) would openly mock Muriel for their apparent lack of intelligence, and given their visit’s true purpose I don’t think anybody would have been too displeased if Aziraphale had just closed the door in their face. It’s such a selfless act of kindness, and in not shunning Muriel, we are treated to some truly beautiful comic moments throughout the rest of the season.

Oh hold up. Was I just waxing lyrical about how kind and considerate this angel is? I take it all back. I almost feel like Crowley has suggested this to him, it’s that mischievous. And not the first time he’s done it either, except the last time he tricked another angel into sullying their body with a liquid intended for human consumption, that being was suffering from complete amnesia. Vulnerable you might say. Which is actually not that dissimilar to Muriel, who is clearly in a very precarious position and not doing a particularly good job of hiding their discomfort and mild panic in trying to maintain their cover whilst staying in character. He even manages to sound as if he’s trying to coach them on proper human responses with no hidden subtext. At least he has enough of a conscience to show pity for his visitor and the position he’s put them in:

Bit of a tangent here - why doesn’t Aziraphale recognise that the fact that Crowley is bringing his plants into the bookshop gives the game away that he’s living in his car? Don’t get me wrong, I am in no doubt that the reason Crowley removes them from the car at all is because he wouldn’t trust anybody else to look after them, not even his angel, so I do understand the reason for them to be removed. As far as I can see, there are four possibilities for this:

Aziraphale doesn’t make the connection between Crowley having his plants in the car and what means for his living situation.

Aziraphale does make the connection but, perhaps due to the current awkward situation panning out in the bookshop and his plans for his Edinburgh road trip, doesn’t mention anything about.

Aziraphale already knows that Crowley is sleeping in his car.

Crowley isn’t really living in his car at all, and the plants are simply kept there to maintain the cover story.

I think Aziraphale is smarter than the first option, even with his innate inability to pick up on Crowley’s cues. And I can’t really comprehend that Aziraphale would have taken the revelation that Crowley is living and sleeping in his car without any sort of protestations (let’s not forget that Crowley openly offered Aziraphale a place to stay when they thought the bookshop was gone, and that was before their respective defections). The third possibility has legs, but it doesn’t sit right with me - I just can’t see that Aziraphale would tolerate this living situation for Crowley, even if it meant buying or renting a place somewhere else for the demon to call home. The last of those possibilities is where my head canon lives, as I think I’ve mentioned in previous write ups. We’ll see Aziraphale “reacting” to the confirmation that Crowley has been sleeping in his car in a future episode, so I’ll hammer this point home one last time when we get there. And regardless whether you agree with my ideas or not, you can’t deny that Crowley’s confident swagger when he bursts into the shop really goes to show just how comfortable he is in this environment, and that he has no qualms about asserting himself there. Almost like it was home in fact…

See? No problems asserting himself at all. The subtext here is pretty glaring - his joining Aziraphale gives a clear message to Muriel about the fact that they’re a team (a group. A group of the two of them), and despite the fact that there surely must be A LOT of body contact going on here, Aziraphale’s expression doesn’t change at all. Not a muscle moved. It feels to me as if this is the sort of close proximity contact that the two of them are very accustomed to when not in the presence of other beings that might see it for what it is. And not only is Crowley comfortable with his position, he’s really enjoying himself:

I’ve mentioned it before, about us not getting to see much of Crowley’s mischievous side in the present day in this season, but this is it on full display. I’m not sure why I love more about this interaction with Muriel - Crowley’s cheeky grin or the fact that Aziraphale does absolutely nothing to reprimand him over his behaviour. That angel is having just as much fun partaking in the mischief as Crowley is, and I find it really adorable to see him indulging his playful side, even if it does eventually result in another one of those pitiful compassionate looks he throws Muriel’s way.

There’s a potentially interesting use of pronouns in the conversation that follows in the back room:

Interesting, see? Crowley refers to Heaven as “your lot”, despite the fact that Aziraphale has openly admitted that he no longer works for them. Not only that, the angel takes the baton up with his reply, grouping himself together with his former workplace using the “we” pronoun. Perhaps it’s just the habit of the previous multiple millennia, it just strikes me as odd, not least because Crowley’s questioning of them being “in charge” would appear to imply that he feels Heaven has the upper hand in the Heaven/Hell power play. Semantics aside, there’s something about this conversation that I really love. They’re both actually listening to one another, the tone is congenial, and they’re engaging in teamwork, and it all feels so natural. There’s no emotional stress going on, no arguing, just two people working together to try and achieve a common goal. I think this is probably the closest we come to seeing them in their normal relationship state, and it feels so relatable.

Well, it looks like Crowley’s plan has changed somewhat following his streetside conversation with Nina - now it needs a “fabulous kiss” for it to be successful. Considering his previous plan was so obviously a retelling of the love story between he and Aziraphale, I find the addition of a kiss at this point to be a notable one. Yes, my head cannon has our hero couple very firmly established in a relationship in the present day, but no, I do not believe that they kissed during either of the two “shelter-under-an-awning” moments that they have shared. Not to mention that I feel like there’s an element of heartbreaking foreshadowing going on with his throwaway comment (though to be fair, I don’t think there’s anything “fabulous” about that kiss in the Final 15, but I’m getting ahead of myself). What is it that makes him add the need for a kiss for his plan to be successful? Consulting my head cannon again, I suspect there might be some further revelations to be had about when he and Aziraphale shared their first kiss, and that this might tie into his updated plan somehow, but whether we’ll get to see that in the space of our final 90 minutes, I don’t know.

Oh I love this. Like, so much. It’s such a MARRIED COUPLE mini spat. It’s so obvious that Aziraphale takes the role of the stereotypical wife - there’s no negotiation, just the thinly veiled threat of extreme rage if his wishes aren’t complied with. And just as obvious is Crowley’s adoption of the stereotypical husband role - downtrodden, with the resigned knowledge that he’s been beaten and can’t worm his way out of a situation that whilst he knows he doesn’t like, he has no logical argument to counter. It’s so lovely. Beautifully delivered and excellently timed. The more I look into the episodes for this season, the more I seem to find that feels stilted and somewhat unnecessary, but moments like these are most definitely not one of them, and in fact I think they’re probably largely responsible for our intense love of the relationship between our hero couple. There’s another one coming up, but I’ll get there in a moment.

Despite being at the tail end of a spat, and that Aziraphale is clearly both disappointed and distracted not to have put his hands on the car keys, we’re about to see a lovely example of Aziraphale and Crowley showing a sixth sense for knowing their roles in the relationship. Regardless of the fact that there is no verbal communication between them following Muriel’s entrance to the room, Crowley knows instinctively that this is his cue to step up and perform a mini rescue, and Aziraphale knows to simply let him do his own thing. He doesn’t say a word once Muriel bursts in on them, just allows Crowley to do all the talking, with the instinctive knowledge that they will be in a better position soon. Which of course leads to this OUTRAGEOUS look from Aziraphale:

There it is, another one of those moments I was just discussing! I remember the first time I caught this look from Aziraphale, it was like a bomb had gone off in my head. It’s… well it’s pure filth, isn’t it? We all thought the look Crowley drew in the Bastille was the best example of a mental undressing we would ever see, but this just blows it out of the water. And why wouldn’t Aziraphale be feeling particularly enamoured of his demon at this point in time? There he is, doing his little rescue and invoking feelings of his knowledge of love (“love”?) at the same time. It’s pretty clear to see how much Crowley’s little speech has affected him, because he barely manages to catch the keys that the demon throws to him mere seconds later. He doesn’t even argue when Crowley continues to assert that the Bentley belongs to him alone, and even manages a wink, which I can only assume is supposed to be reassuring that he’s on the same wavelength about the current situation, and that he appreciates the olive branch just offered to him by way of Crowley’s accepting of the mission he’s been given.

Apart from a quick note to say that Aziraphale’s driving looks worse than Crowley’s, and that Crowley’s reaction to seeing his beloved car driving away speaks (to me, anyway) more of boredom than it does of worry or possessiveness, I think that’s all there is for this instalment, seeing as we’ve arrived quite neatly at the opening credits. As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one!

[stardustloserdoll]

heyy! how are you? can you do tom x reader where reader is 15 and tom is 18 and he is reader’s stepbrother,also I really love your writing🫶🏼🤍

heyy i’m doing okay! hope you’re doing good. and thank you sm🤍🙈

tom being your stepbrother

yes he is the annoying older brother

but he’s like 2000s cooler older brother

alwaysss picks on you and loves starting fights 🙄

he’s always coming into your room and messes it up and is so nosy

he’s such a sore loser when you play video games

he gets excited when you ask if he can teach you how to play but he’s like “yeah whatever, i can’t say no cause i’ll get in trouble” 🙄 but he loves teaching you

introduces you to his favorite music

any clothes that don’t fit him anymore he gives to you

if you listen to tokio hotel, you definitely have so many posters in your room and you draw on tom’s face with sharpie 😭

youre laughing drawing horns on him and he comes in like “WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT TO ME.”

you guys make video recordings of you guys singing and playing

he takes you to school but dude. he drives so crazy he swerves, speeds, and has the windows down blasting music

once he drops you off he’s like “have a good day!” and you come out of the car SHAKING

always taking bad pictures of you so he can make fun of them

youre always touring with them and it’s always fun especially since you get to miss school

they all try helping you with your homework depending on what subject they are good at

he will be so annoying if you have a crush on someone but will actually be your wing man

even though you guys fight a lot he loves you so much

[opticfile]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲

—✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 // in which alfred is a truck driver and you're his favorite stop

✧ i loooooove writing for alfred i love love love it hes my favorite to write for probably

—✦ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 // Alfred F Jones (APH America)

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // swearing, reader is hit on by unwanted college boy, fluff, gn!reader

A few things help Alfred get through his days and nights. One is some music, another is phone calls with his buddies. Whatever it is, he just needs something to fill the dull air as he drives endlessly from one place to another. Singing along to a Gwen Stefani song (probably one from her No Doubt era) or dancing in his seat at red lights always helps keep his mood high. Waving to little kids in their mom’s backseats when they look up at him in awe and wonder is always nice, too, it makes him feel like more than just a truck driver, it’s like he’s Superman and flying over the city after saving the day.

But truth be told though, he’d have a hard time staying awake behind the wheel on especially hard days without his coffee. This man doesn’t exactly have the healthiest diet, especially not while driving, his passenger's seat is always full of fast-food bags and his cup holder always has soda or an energy drink lingering in it. Coffee, however, helps him start his day off right. It’s a tasty, warm energizer early in the morning when his eyes are still adjusting and his brain still isnt awake.

Yet the only thing that can get his day off to a good start better than coffee is you.

You’re a sweet college student, probably close to graduating, maybe a four-year degree, he thinks. You work at a cafe he frequents as often as he can, as long as he’s in the area it's his number one choice for his morning coffee and bagels. Half of it is because he really likes the coffee, the rest is because he likes seeing you.

You’re way too kind for someone working the early morning opening shift. You always smile at him and banter with him, no matter how clearly exhausted you are. And he’s way too cheery for a guy who wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn to drive a big ass truck around all day, so you guys have that one in common. You have a lot in common. Maybe you guys have matching eyebags, he thinks, or your voices are equally as groggy. 

But you always smile when he comes in, he's a regular at this point, the kind of regular who doesn't even need to order because the barista knows what he's getting. You always draw a little heart next to his name on his cup, sometimes lately you’ve been writing Alfie instead of Alfred, too. That one will never cease to make his heart stutter. You know exactly how much cream cheese he likes on his bagels, you know exactly how much cream to put in his coffee, and yeah maybe that's just because you’ve made the same order for him a gazillion times but he likes to think of it as something more intimate than it is. 

One time you complimented his hoodie, it had a little alien head embroidered over his heart, and “I come in peace!” was written over his back. You noticed it, you mentioned it, you complimented it, and he broke out into a grin.

“Really? I think it's great, too.” He said triumphantly. “My brother said it was corny, but you should see some of the shit he wears.”

“Corny? Maybe. Cute? Definitely.” You giggled, writing his name on a large cup. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, you know.” He winked playfully, leaning on the counter and watching you as you made his drink. He’s seen you do it a thousand times, he never gets over how efficient you are.

“I said it was cute!” You said, defensively, a coy glint in your eyes. “But I can’t exactly lie to you, either.”

He laughed joyfully.

The first time Alfred saw you he thought you were cute, the second time he thought your haircut was cool. Now when he sees you it's like a puppy seeing his owner after they’ve been at work all day. He gets happy, his stomach does backflips like an Olympic gymnast, and he can’t stop smiling.

Most of the time it's just you, him, and one or two of your coworkers. Not many customers pop in so early—shocker, right?—so he gets to enjoy chatting with you until his coffee is ready before he has to set off on the road. 

Sometimes there’s another person in the cafe though, sometimes two. One time that other person was clearly a college guy, one who had no business being here this early, one that should be hungover and passed out on his frat house’s deck instead of leaning over the counter and trying to flirt with you.

That was probably the first time Alfred realized you weren’t just his barista friend, but his barista crush. What tipped him off? The fact he wanted to grab the guy by his collar and carry him out of the building like a mama cat carrying its kitten by the scruff of its neck.

He didn’t, by the way, he wouldn’t do that unless you asked him to.

Instead, he just grit his teeth as he waited in line behind the guy, listening as he dragged out the ordering process to drop some lame pickup line that made his skin crawl—and yours too, judging by the awkward smile on your face and the forced laugh you humored him with. Alfred definitely wanted to groan out loud at that point. When the guy finally got the hint and left, Al walked up to the counter with a smile, and your shoulders relaxed and you sighed. 

“Long time, no see, partner.” You smiled tiredly up at him. 

It had been a long time, maybe a week or two, and he realized he missed you all that time, too. 

“Yeah, it’s great to be back in town.” He tipped his ballcap like he was tipping a cowboy hat, a dumb grin on his face. He didn’t have to place his order, you knew already.

You giggled softly at that. Was it just him or were you more exhausted than usual? Maybe the weirdo hitting on you drained your social battery or something, maybe it was finals week or something. 

“Great to have you back, I missed my favorite regular.” 

“Aw, you tellin’ me you have other regulars?” He clutched his pears in faux shock, acting hurt for dramatic effect. Somewhere to your left, your coworker snorted.

“Maybe, but none of them are as cool as you.” You grinned. “And none of them have such easy orders, either.”

“I’m a simple man, what can I say.” 

When you handed him his coffee and bagel, your fingers brushed his, and he felt a tingle go down his arm for a split second. Then you winked, and he felt one in his heart.

To say you felt any different than him would be a lie.

Alfred was definitely your favorite regular, that was no joke when you said it to him no matter how playful your tone was. He was always sweet and respectful and always cheered you up when you were barely dragging yourself through your shift.

The first time he came in you thought he was hot, the second time he came in you thought he was funny, and now when he comes in you feel a breath of fresh air cut through the coffee-scented air and your heart speeds up momentarily at his smile.

His smile always got to you. It was so attractive, he had such nice straight teeth and his lips framed them perfectly. It felt like a beautiful oil painting framed in gold or something. What came out of those lips was no different, his voice was always pleasing to the ears, and sometimes he came in sounding like he just rolled out of bed, and that was also pleasing. 

Alfred’s presence was the best part of your week, everything else sucked if you were being honest. Your coworkers made it really hard to feel positive when they were so bitter because they had to do the job they applied for. Your patience was thinning every day, and honestly when that guy from one of your classes showed up you felt like quitting then and there. Thankfully he never came back, if he did you probably would’ve thrown down your apron as soon as he entered. 

As much as you hate to say it, Alfred alone wasn't enough for you to want to keep the job. So you turned in your two weeks, you found a new job—one much more impressive than “barista”—and you counted the days until you were free from your coffee-stained shackles.

The last week of your job you didn’t see Alfred once, and you were starting to get anxious that you wouldn’t see him again. Maybe you could get one of your lazy coworkers to give him your number, or you could show up every morning until he was there. 

(that was in no way plausible, you barely even wanted to show up now and you work there)

But, to your relief, on your last day, Alfred popped through the window. His blue eyes shone through his glasses, his blonde hair was a mess, and he was wearing a hoodie with his iconic bomber jacket over it. He looked warm, he looked good. He grinned widely at you, shooting you finger-guns as he approached the counter.

“If it isn’t my favorite barista!” 

“And my favorite customer returns! I was getting worried, you know.” You smiled back, grabbing a cup for his drink.

“Aw, I always come back to this place! If you didn’t see me today, you’d see me tomorrow or next week or something.” He promised.

“I actually wouldn’t.” You said, “Because I wouldn’t be here.”

Alfred paused, “What’d’ya mean?”

“It’s my last day.” You smiled, glancing back up to him momentarily and catching the way his lips tugged down slightly.

“Like… forever?” He asked.

“Yup, I got myself a shiny new job.” You boasted.

“So I won’t get my morning coffee from you anymore?” He leaned on the counter, his voice seemed disappointed.

“Uh,” You pulled your eyes away from the coffee machine to meet his, “Yeah. Not anymore.”

He nodded slowly, “I won’t get to see you again, then?”

You chuckled to yourself, “Of course you will, silly.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, did you think I would part ways with you without giving you my number or something?” You grinned.

Slowly, he did too. His eyes twinkled and his chest shook in laughter. “I’d sure hope not.”

You smiled, face warming a little as he stared at you intently. This time, when you handed him his coffee and bagel your number was written beneath his name. 

“So, your number-?”

“It’s on the cup.” You noted.

“Got it. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll call you.” He grinned, walking backward for a moment before ripping his eyes away from your face and walking out the door feeling like a giddy teenage girl.

Today his day got off to an amazing start. Coffee always helped with that, but you? You always made it ten times better.

✧ navigation.

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

[cowpokeomens]

I think Davis would be very into cosplay in the bedroom, not to be pointing out the obvious but he's a comic book guy and to add on to that, we've all seen the fireman outfit photo by now right?

Also I think he's the type to let you dominate the fuck out of him in private. He wants you on top, setting the pace. In public he'll have his arm around you making sure nobody comes close. Idk though I ha e t thought about it that much...

Davis has been heavy on my spirit since yesterday

Here are some of my thoughts:

Davis

- tits guy. Likes how they move when he fucks you hard (the only way he fucks you, because he likes how they move)

- soooo into role play. So into it. You don’t need to method act or anything, putting on whatever outfit he’s dreamed of is perfectly effective!

- softie :-/ very very soft, probably draw pictures of you/for you, wants to cook you dinner, likes having you sit in his lap because he’s a Big Strong Man

- definitely lets you dom him, is more than happy to hand over the reins for you to bounce on his cock in his lap, he’s not stupid of course he’ll let you do that!!!!!

- definitely the sort to be proud of what he pulled. He’s never gonna say “that shirt is too revealing” because he’s like “yeah my baby’s tits are out I can’t believe she’s gonna come home with me this is crazy everyone look what I pulled!!!” Like has zero fear that other people seeing you is gonna make your eye wander.

- if you’re also the creative sort it gets him rock fucking hard. Art, writing, music, whatever- if you’re into any kind of creative endeavors he’s promoting your work and bragging about your accomplishments and skill to anyone who will listen

- if you’re also into comics, he’s proposing. If you’re not into comics but want to be, he’s sending you home with a stack of his recommendations (I also have a stack of recommendations feel free to ask for them) and then he’s asking your opinions on each of them because he likes your brain and how you interpret and understand things :-/

- I don’t think he’s a munch, but he does have Cum Goblin energy for sure. Like he will give you head, but it’s definitely more of a service to you than a thing for him. Let him cum on your tits though and you’re locked in, he’s deleting the dating apps and asking if you want to be exclusive :-/

- probably gets really really shy when any of the guys ask about you before you’re officially dating. Doesn’t wanna jinx anything :-( but they see him smiling at his phone and they notice him disappearing on the weekends! He’s not subtle!

- yeah :-/ I want him to raw me *long suffering sigh*

[t0ast-ghost]

Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

There’s swear words, star trek, and spoilers oh my!

Start it up:

- “The planet of galactic peace.” Somehow. I don’t believe that.

- This guy on his horse looks like death

- “Let us explore it together.” Come take my hand. Let us take ibuprofen together.

- It’s hard to dislike Sybok when he smiles like that so they have to add in a somewhat evil laugh

- Epic music is a go (Music by Jerry Goldsmith)

- “‘You’ll be able to relax’ you call this relaxing? I’m a nervous wreck. If I’m not careful I’ll end up talking to myself.” Kirk convinced him to come here and now he has to watch his idiot husband climb a rock

- Kirk knows Spock and McCoy are there to catch him when he falls but goddamnit if they aren’t both really tired of his shit

- No but seriously what is with science fiction and thinking ‘yeah there’s a race of cat people’ looking at you too doctor who

- Caithlin Dar is awesome already.. I don’t trust Talbot (edit: haha too bad they’re characters don’t really do anything anyway)

- Scotty narrating is my favourite actually

- UHURA IS AWESOME

- are Uhura and Scotty dating?

- “Admit it. We’re lost!” “All right, we’re lost. But we’re making good time.” Didn’t know I needed Sulu and Chekov to go hiking together but I do

- “Yes uh- yes, we’ve been caught in a blizzard.” *Chekov starts blowing into the microphone* god I love them. He just went with it!

- Bones ringing the triangle out of spite and love

- The husbands sitting down and eating beans. Why would they make star trek about literally anything else

- Coming back strong with the extra wh sound (it was in the last movie when McCoy said whales)

- The trivia panel is telling me that one of the goofs is Kirk calling Tennessee whiskey bourbon and it looks like something Spock would write

- McCoy laughing and talking about Spock’s Vulcan metabolism and Spock indulging by saying he’s also half human and McCoy responding with “well it certainly doesn’t show” to which he knows Spock’ll take as a compliment. Yes I do need old married mcspirk.

- “You know, you two could drive a man to drink.” Then Kirk with all the innocence and nonchalance in the world says, “me? What did I do?” “What did you do? You really piss me off, Jim.”

- McCoy is lecturing Kirk cause he can’t take anymore of his almost dying bullshit

- “I knew I wouldn’t die because the two of you were with me.” “I do not understand.” “I’ve always known I’ll die alone.” I’m about to cry because this is true. He dies in a distant future without either of them. Thinking about it they all somewhat die alone. Maybe Spock was there for McCoy but we never see his death. And Spock dies in an alternate past :(((

- “It’s a mystery to me what draws us together…Other people have families.” “Other people, Bones, not us.” They are each other’s family.

- SPOCK ROASTING A MARSHMALLOW (not sure why they call it a ‘marsh melon’)

- This is the silliest thing they could have possibly put in a movie (this is like a comfort fic but a movie and I am so here for it)

- “God, I liked him better before he died.” McCoy is getting nasty and Kirk is now like ‘well time to sleep’

- “Life is not a dream.” “Go to sleep, Spock.”

- Why is the head Klingons outfit so cunty. Why’re the Klingons so silly?

- They caught Spock in his jammies

- “Well gentlemen, it seems shore leave has been cancelled.” They can’t go on ONE DATE

- Why’re they huddled together on the ship like that?

- “‘All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’” “Melville.” “John Masefield.” “Are you sure about that?” “I am well versed in the classics, Doctor.” “Then how come you don’t know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?” Spock makes the most frowny and tired face imaginable. I think McCoy was justified in biting back there cause imagine you wake up, get in a shuttle, and then get corrected. All I’m saying is Spock was being a bit of a know it all (wouldn’t have him any other way)

- “*laughs* I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” McCoy is so jolly in this one

- The yeoman with Kirk’s jacket is played by Shatner’s daughter

- HE ACTUALLY HAS A SHIRT THAT SAYS ‘go climb a rock.’ omg

- That fucking outfit oh my goodness

- “What’s the matter, Jim?” “I miss my old chair.” And then it switches to Spock who’s going :[

- Love how the Klingons all know who Kirk is. Like he’s THAT important

- Aww Kirk can’t write his diary :((

- Their silhouettes are so cute (34:06) (also they look like how aliens coming out of a spaceship look, I just think that’s neat)

- McCoy has to turn on the lights like, ‘stop sulking in the damn dark.’

- “Imagine that, a passionate Vulcan.” What McCoy? You want Spock to be more passionate?

- “This is Captain Pavel Chekov speaking.” He’s so silly for that. But also it’s probably best he doesn’t say ‘acting captain’ as that would arouse suspicion cause as everyone knows the captain is always the first to go on dangerous away missions

- What’s going on? Why is Uhura dancing ? What.

- What. Was. That. Scene. Why.

- “Spock.” “Yes, captain?” “Be one with the horse.” “Yes, captain.” Oookay

- “Hold your horse, captain.” Good one.

- Spock just. He just nerve pinched that horse.

- Spock does not know how to deal with seeing his estranged brother again (yeah I was spoiled) so, “you are under arrest for seventeen violations of the neutral zone treaty.” Is what he went with

- Sybok complimented and then winked at Kirk HE IS TAKEN

- “We’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually.” “Manually?” “How often have you done this?” “Actually it’s my first attempt.” Personally wouldn’t trust anyone else to attempt that other than Sulu. He is THAT bitch (/pos)

- EXPLOSION!!!!! CRASHHHH

- whooo space stuff! Sorry the photon torpedo just missing as the enterprise went into warp was cool

- Spock’s got a gun!

- McCoy comes out of the ship and is so confused and looks to Spock and Kirk

- Ohhh no. Sybok is gonna do his thingy magic thing to Sulu and Uhura with Scotty watching ‘em from above

- “What you have done is betray every man on this ship.” “Worse. I have betrayed you. I do not expect you to forgive me.” “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your goddamn ass.” “If you think it would help.” “You want me to hold him, Jim?” “You stay out of this. Why, Spock? Why?” Lots to think about in this dialogue. But I think McCoy offering to hold Spock is him going ‘Jim you’re overreacting can’t you see he’s already remorseful?’ I could be misreading but if you understand it as the idea of McCoy holding him down is so redundant because Spock is strong enough to get out of his grasp easily but probably wouldn’t resist in this moment then it’s just like aughhhhhh

- Also Kirk asking Spock to shoot someone is bad enough. But the fact that it was his brother…

- Kirk is in disbelief. He didn’t know his own husband has a brother (half brother technically. Same Spock same.)

- “Stop it, Jim! Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you. If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig? Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” Bones not only defending Spock, but also getting them back on track

- Apparently both Gene Roddenberry and William Shatner didn’t like that Sybok was Spock’s brother. Roddenberry didn’t think that Sarek would have a child with another woman (I kinda agree but also Pon Farr would’ve made him become engaged to a Vulcan before he met Amanda, so it’s not completely unthinkable). And Shatner didn’t like it cause it was too much like ‘a soap opera plot line’ but they went with it so that Spock’s actions made sense with the way he acted towards Sybok. I personally like that Spock has siblings he never told anyone about. It’s funny.

- lmao this time Kirk gets to stand on top of Spock to reach something (See patterns of force)

- Spock talking about himself in the third person because he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t get out of the brig

- “The bond between these three is strong, difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.” IT’S CAUSE THEY’RE MARRIED

- It’s funny that- canonically - Sybok can sense a really strong bond between them

- Kirk and McCoy’s ass I mean- oh look it’s Spock. With rocket boots!

- Spock holding onto Kirk and McCoy for their dear lives

- “I believe I overshot the mark by one level.” “Nobody’s perfect.” McCoy keeps saying this to Spock and I think it’s healing. Also flirting.

- They’re lit really nicely

- McCoy is NOT having this “Sounds like brainwashing to me.” You’re so right, back OFF Sybok

- (drawable moment 1:08:17)

- “Your pain is the deepest of all. I can feel it. Can’t you?” OH WAIT WE GET TO SEE MCCOYS PAIN WHAT

- I have no words for this scene. Holy Shit.

- Forced therapy

- Oh they all get to see each others pain cause they’re connected

- Spock gets to see his own birth… why. What.

- young Sarek 😧😳😳😳

- “So human.” YOU FUCKED THE HUMAN SAREK. God he’s such a bitch.

- SPOCK FOR THE WIN!! He’s not leaving

- MCCOYS STAYING WITH HIS HUSBANDS!!! YEAH LETS GOOO! (Personally I don’t think McCoy would go with Sybok at all, but I wasn’t sure what the writers were gonna do and I was scared they would make him leave)

- I know we’ve moved on from this but maybe Sarek saying that Spock was human was like saying ‘he’s got your eyes’ like comparing Spock to Amanda in appreciation. We’ll never know but it’s still a bitchass thing to say.

- Kirk has a plaque with ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’ what a nerd

- They’re really hot in their uniforms

- hi god

- Kirk wants to ID god. Fair enough.

- There’s McCoy in the corner. Losing his religion

- “I doubt a God who inflicts pain for his own pleasure.” YEAH McCoy’s not standing for this shit

- Oh so Sybok wasn’t the enemy. Yeah that’s a good ending for his character. Saying bye to sock and asking for forgiveness

- “Beam up Spock and Dr. McCoy now.” “Now, just a damn minute-” Kirk said that so fast so that his husbands couldn’t argue with him

- “I am a foolish old man.” “Damn you, sir. You will try.” Spock ain’t fucking around. Also he picked up a couple of words from McCoy

- “I thought I was going to die.” “Not possible, you were never alone.” Throw me out an airlock I need some air

- SORRY the immediate moment after that was SO MUCH WORSE “Please, captain. Not in front of the Klingons.” THEY WERE ABOUT TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY

- “Cosmic thoughts, gentlemen?” “We were speculating. Is god really out there?” They were having a nice quiet conversation and it’s a shame they didn’t show it :(

- KIRK TALKING ABOUT SAM??? Oh no he was implying it was Spock

- this ending- I’m not okay.

Unfortunately I really enjoyed this one. William Shatner made a movie that was so shippy and was oblivious to it the entire time.

I know it took a really long time for me to post this one because I wanted to watch undiscovered country first, I haven’t watched it yet but I felt I needed to finally edit and post this one. I hope you enjoyed my silly little thoughts.

Star trekking across the universe. Get that stuck in your head.

Masterpost

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

curious for the ship thing so here we goo

so i’m like, roughly 5”4 maybe 5”3 i dunno. i have naturally black hair but i dyed it and now the dye is fading so it’s more of a bronze now

personality wise i’m really shy around new people and i get embarrassed/ashamed easily. i am CRAZY around my friends though especially my interests, i never shut up about it. i mostly reflect the personality off of the person im talking to though 🤷 hobbies include music (listening/playing), writing, drawing, reading, all that. i’m kind of an overthinker and i am like heavily mentally ill but it’s wtver. i also probably have autism so lmao!! i won’t lie i can also be aggressive when i get too annoyed at people but i don’t mean it idk i feel bad afterwards but i try to keep calm. i also hate disappointing others in general and i got pretty good grades in school (straight A’s babyyy) i also like to talk a bunch but i suck at starting conversations, more of a jokey type when around my friends. i don’t really do much with my appearance lmao i wear glasses and throw on a sweater and some pants when i go out and i have heavy eyebags so 😞

i’m also transmasc if that matters 🤷

Ok you did not specify which fandom so I’ll choose a character I think best fits you

Your Fandom ship: Steve Randle (The Outsiders)

Explanation: start off I think that he really likes your appearance. I think he thinks your hair was pretty cool and he would definitely tease you about being short. I’m sorry you can’t stop it. He definitely would. I see him as kind of closed off unless he’s around his friends, which would kind of be the same as you except you’re more shy version of closed off and he’s more cold version of closed off, but I somehow think that U2 could make it work and once you get through that kind of patchy rough layer of getting to know each other, you guys would be so great together. He would definitely listen to you, rant by your interests and try to understand as much as he can and in return, he would expect you to listen to his hour long rants about anything cars, drag races, car mechanics… I feel like he also kinda understands you reflecting your personality based off, who you talk to. He’s often in his best friend, Sodapops shadow, and I think he would feel super special whenever you went up to him instead of his “more attractive” friend. If you ever drew wrote some thing about me, I think he would probably keep it and cherish it forever after pretending like he doesn’t care that much and then you’d see it up on his like best table or some crap and then be like I thought you didn’t like that and then he’d be like yeah maybe maybe yeah whatever man. He can also be pretty aggressive whenever he gets annoyed at people so I think he’d understand that aspect of your personality and you guys might clash sometimes, but I think that you two would always make it up for each other. He’s also extremely hard to disappoint as a guy. I think he’s pretty low maintenance so you wouldn’t need to worry about that and he would let me know if you disappointed him in someway, but I don’t think he’s a grudge holder. Anyway yall are so cute I ship it 🧡🧡🧡

[silversatin2105]

OMGGG IM IN LOVE W UR MATCHUP CONCEPTSSS

May I get one please 😻😻😻

Name : Mai

Cisgender female , straight!

Personality : entp-F

I LOVE talking to people , socializing is one of my biggest qualities if I may say . Even though I love talking to ppl it doesn’t mean that I tolerate any kind of disrespect toward anyone. I’ll gladly and openly shut down someone if they say anything rude !

I have Adhd , the hyperactive-can’t seems to focus one 🙂‍↕️ mhhh also I’m a big cat person , I love playing volleyball and music!

(I play as a libero/outside hitter (depending on the op team) in my vb team and I’m then main singer of my school’s band🤯)

Hobbies : DONT GET ME STARTED OMG I have so many hobbies

In sports it’s obviously , my one and only VOLLEYBALL the way I couldn’t go through college without vb is crazy

I love singing and playing the electric guitar !!! As well as drawing and I’m staring to get into painting and writing 🧏‍♀️🧏‍♀️

I have many hobbies but i spend most of my time in the gym or at vb practice !

Style :

Well I have broad shoulders from spiking so I’m trying to grow my hair out🫣

My hair are lower shoulder-length , I have lotss of layers ! I had my Korean mom’s blessing since I have red-ish reflect on my black hair 🤭

Im average height (160-ish) but Im pretty muscular if I may say (I’m also bold asl 🤫)

My style would most definitely be streetwear !! My go to outfit is those tight jersey w baggy pants nd oversized zip-up

I have pretty round feature , so I follow the Korean makeup style (pink-ish and light)

Likes : SWEETSSS AND PASTRIES the way I could binge eat a whole bakery if I could.

I love musics ,food , family nd friends time , ACADEMIC VALIDATION🗣️ , vb obviously , late night music session , skateboarding , dim lights (dim light>bright light) , manga , anime , manhwa, kdrama, thrift shopping , shopping , Jeju Island (South Korea) and Paris , learning new languages , HUMAN MIND AND HOW IT WORKS. Any berries , lychee , dragons fruit , mango.

(Can you tell that I’m a nerd?)

Dislike : mint. I despise mint (if not in chewing gum) , coconut. Soja mooncakes, jajangmyeon (Korean traditional dish) (pretty controversial ik)

Rude ppl

YEAH THZTS ALL

Thank u

LOVE YOU ND KEEP GOING W YOUR WORK

Hi

Yeah I can do you a match up, I was in three minds when it came to your match up but after discussing it with a fellow TR blogger I came to my ultimate conclusion for you match up and without much grandstanding lets get into it

Your Match is

Hanemiya Kazutora

He loves that your talkative and would spend nights awake speaking to you on the phone about multiple subjects ( I HC that Kazutora is a night owl).

Like you he loves cats and I could imagine you both visiting Baji just to pet Excalibur (Aka Peke-J), it wouldn’t be like “Hi how are you doing Baji” it would be a “Hey Baji where’s the cat?”

You both have a zero tolerance policy to bullshit, if he saw you being disrespected you know this man is going full tiger and ripping the person who dissed you a new one both metaphorically and literally and whilst he was in jail you’d not take well to anyone slandering him.

Like you I could imagine him having similar taste in music and I could imagine him giving you advice on your music, I could imagine his favourite piece of your music being his ringtone.

You and him would definitely have the perfect outfit combos with one another, i could imagine on dates you both co-ordinating with each other.

He might not get the whole Academic success thing but seeing you dedicating yourself to your studies impresses him.

I could imagine him taking you to a skate park to burn of energy when your both ticked off.

Like before you’ve both got a zero tolerance for bullshit, I could imagine you both saying something if someone was being rude to a retailer.

In summary:

I have paired you with Kazutora, sure his home life may be different to yours but you and him make it work as you both are willing to call each other out on the others BS, your musical talents are one of the things he treasures and stakeboarding with you is his favourite thing in the world, He doesn’t fully get the studying thing but he’s impressed that you show grit and determination.

 I hope this result is to your liking.

Toman Inquisitorial division member Silver

Warning:

Please do not remove original tags in Re-blogs, don’t re-post anywhere else or alter the original work.

[anamelessfool]

For the character ask game: Secondo

Oh man I'm so excited. I don't know what it is about Secondo I'm a little obsessed. And not for romantic reasons I just find his character (or at least my idea of his character) compelling. Like I can’t stop drawing his big sour face through the ages:

How I feel about this character:

He was raised to be Papa Emeritus. From a very young age he was trained in music and art and science and philosophy. Cold and calculating from a distance with a very dry deadpan sense of humor. It’s been fun writing a character who is just so assertive and sure and absolutely takes no half-measures (sometimes getting himself in binds because of it). He’s also surprisingly sentimental. There’s very few people he’s fond of and respects. He serves those people with his whole heart, even though he doesn’t express it in actual words.

People I Ship Romantically With Secondo

He’s a very guarded person so he does not fall for just anyone. For starters, they have to be an interesting combination of strong-willed and intellectual. His true love is his wife Sandra Leider who is chipper and bubbly but is extremely intelligent. Would have gone through medical school if not for certain life happenings. Just his presence alone convinced Marian to drop everything and join the Church, and he had a three-person relationship with them that got a little too heated. Is there a correlation between Sandra’s pregnancy and Marian dumping him for good? Yeah, probably….. He has lots of friends with benefits.

Non-Romantic OTP for this character

Sister Imperator. She’s his trainer and mentor and he has secretly idolized her from a very young age. He’s been intoxicated by her power for most of his life. The only person who he’d actually be subservient to. And Copia, of course. They both have an intellectual, analytical lean to their thought processes. He taught Copia how to be a fine musician. Through raising Copia he learned how to care for someone small. The experience perhaps made him a good father to his own kids in the future.

Unpopular Opinion

Ok, you said unpopular so here it is….Secondo is straight. When he’s serving as a Dom he’s open to anything subs want from him, but romantically he’s always been attracted to women and transwomen. Kink and sexual preference aren’t always intertwined.

One thing I wish happened

The brothers were killed off so quick. I trust Tobias with his art but man, so much possibilities for drama and plot are lost when there’s decisions like that. Oh well. At least we have fanfic.

Thank you for letting me be super obsessed.