#decided to be more consistent across my social media shit
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shy-bud -> brooklel
#decided to be more consistent across my social media shit#depressed that brookle was taken but whatever#bud says stuff#<-i guess i’ll keep that tag the same tho#i don’t feel like going back and retagging all my posts
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i would shit post more if i had a cool url like hootyhootsbootyboots or bilbogoestobuccees but unfortunately i decided to use my full ass name as my user name because consistent branding across social media or whatever so if i wanna dive in the ball pit with the rest of you fuckers it’s always like
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Eldritch Trial Separation
It was a day at the beach. The sun was there. Water and sand all over the place. Cruise ships and oil rigs littering the horizon as far as the eye could weep. And all squandered on a man sitting at the end of the pier, half-assedly pretending to listen to a very angry woman’s voice on speakerphone berate him for his part in a years-long affair that has done irreparable damage to their marriage, family, and social media following.
“Look,” the man interjected. “I know I’ve been a selfish, heartless bastard who cares little for your needs, wants, hopes, and dreams. And I know I’ve consistently and utterly failed to pay my fair share of..." the man said, quickly realized he'd never paid for a damned thing in all their years together, and decided to just roll with it, "...well, anything. I get it. My bad. But, I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”
As the very angry woman started to categorically, chronologically, and somethingly explain, more or less, precisely why she was so upset with this selfish, heartless bastard, the selfish, heartless bastard decided he didn’t care and turned his fleeting attention to a gathering crowd pointing and gathering and crowding about something along the horizon.
“It’s gone!” a crowder pointed.
“What’s gone?” a gatherer crowded.
“The oil rig!” a pointer gathered.
The selfish, heartless bastard looked back out across the water, and wondered how anyone would even notice one oil rig went missing.
“Because I happened to be staring right at it,” the crowder answered without hearing the question. “It was there one moment, gone the next.”
“Bullshit,” the gatherer replied without being asked.
“It’s true!” the pointer whined like a petulant brat for some inexplicable reason. “I saw it sink right into the water, like the bottom fell out, or somethin’!”
“I’m sorry,” the very angry woman said. “Is this conversation about our rotting corpse of a relationship too distracting?”
“Yeah,” the you-get-the-point admitted. “A little. Sorry.”
“No, no,” she said. “It wouldn’t be time spent with you if it wasn’t wasted.”
Now. Had the man been paying any attention whatsoever, what turned out to be the woman’s last known words to anyone might have stung. But it was at this moment when something breached the water and swallowed one of the many cruise ships whole.
And it was at that moment when the crowd lost its collective shit - children flipped, dogs clothed, fish strangled. Internet search histories ineffectively deleted. A man was even caught defecating in a flower vase and nobody so much as took a photograph. Madness. Simply madness.
And then, it monstered onto the shore.
Suffice it to say, it was quite the sight. It was big, of course. Very large and very something, indeed. Not quite a fish, not quite a cuttlefish. Definitely something nobody had seen until they did. And then, it just sort of made its way up the sand, as things like it do, onward to destroy humanity maybe. I’m not sure. Didn’t think to ask, which seems like quite the oversight, now that I think about it. The damnedest thing, though. I suppose you had to be there.
Anyway. I forget where I was going with any of this.
#comedy#humor#humorist#writing#creative writing#writing community#short fiction#horror#fantasy#scifi#sketch#sketch comedy#sketchcomedy#lgbt#lgbt community#lgbt creator#satire
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Guys, gals, and non-gender confirming pals. Some serious shit is going down. Girl Scout cookies are being sold in illegal ways that could cost you more money for your Thin Mints.
All across my council, our standard price for cookies is $4.00 a box, and $5.50 for our gluten free cookies. However, some are selling them for $5.00-$7.00 a box. That is illegal.
When I signed up to sell cookies, I had to sign a document saying that I would follow all rules and regulations, and one of those regulations is that I will not under any circumstances charge more for a box of cookies than is standard for our council.
Some are listing them on eBay or other online shopping sites, such as Amazon. That is illegal. Online sales are perfectly okay, but they are only to be posted to private accounts such as private Facebook and Instagram pages, or private Snapchat stories.
Selling those online like that can get a Girl Scout in serious trouble, but not only that, it creates unfair advantage. I'll get into unfair advantage later.
On top of that, some people are buying boxes from girls, marking them up and putting them on eBay for a higher price. That is illegal because it says clearly on the box that you cannot resell boxes of cookies, and you cannot sell the cookies if you are working apart from a Girl Scout.
So, why does this matter?
Because it's unfair. I've been a Girl Scout since I was 6. Every single FUCKING year, I have worked my ass off to try to get a free week at girl scout camp, because I cannot afford to go by myself. You used to have to only sell 600 boxes. Now you have to sell 1300.
What happens when prices are inflated illegally, is they take that extra money and buy donation boxes. Donation boxes give you credit for the boxes, but the money goes towards a charity.
This means someone who sold 600 boxes for $6.00 each, now has around 300 extra boxes they can claim they have sold.
Or, if someone is selling on a public page, they can now reach to demographics outside their council, or even their state. This means that all the other girls have a school, some grocery stores, and a church to sell to, and Bethany is selling to hundreds of people in Miami and San Francisco, because the boxes are cheaper from her than where they live.
So, when all of these girls are selling so many boxes, the council decides that the girls are selling boxes too easy, not understanding how they're doing it. But they don't care. So they raise the goal.
Now, because girls are selling double their cookies, they double the goal. Which means that a 7 year old who just wants to go to camp now has to go sell twice the amount of cookies than the year before. And if she can't reach the quota, she's out of luck.
So, when you buy cookies online from eBay or Amazon, or accidentally buy marked up cookies, you're not only costing yourself more money, but you're also making it harder for girls to achieve their dreams.
So, how can you stop yourself from fucking over a bunch of elementary school kids? Easy.
Don't buy cookies online, unless it is in person, or through a private social media link. We do have official websites, but eBay and Amazon sales are a no-go.
When you start seeing booth sales, look for the troop number, and if you can't find it on the booth, it should be on the girls vest. Ask for the cookie price. Leave. It sucks that you're not buying, but do this with a second and maybe third troop to figure out if any of them have marked up the boxes. If they are all consistent and have the same type of cookies, then they can all be trusted. If any of them are more expensive, do not buy them.
Report. If you see any type of sales shown, ask for more information about them, find out their troop number, a leader name, or if they're online, where their council is located. Then, find the website for that particular troop, call and report.
Lots of people don't realize just how greedy some parents are. And the competition of cookie sales makes this whole problem even worse. Weed them out, please. I'll be aging out of Girl Scouts soon, and I just want the Daisies and Brownies in my troop to have a fun cookie season, not whatever the fuck is happening now.
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Hi there, I'm Evren or Ren or Ev- or whatever you wanna call me, honestly totally down for funky nicknames haha. This is my writeblr intro and here's some random stuff about me and the things that I do so you can decide whether you hate me or like me. I’ve been on writeblr since 2020 but just moved across the country this year for the first time so I was inactive for awhile. This is the blog for you if you’re LGBT+, A Writer, or Neurodivergent (or maybe all of the above)
About Me:
I’m chaotic af so please don’t expect regular posts my mental health is unpredictable
I’m 17 at the time of writing this.
I'm here, and I'm Queer, Asexual, Gay, Gender-flux, Transmasc, Grey-romantic, probably among others, I'm trying to collect all of the letters and colors of the rainbow if you couldn't tell.
I'm on the autism spectrum, also ADHD so yeah my brain is a bit of a cluttered but organized mess, this is also why I may disappear from the internet for months at a time and why this is the only social media I can somewhat keep up with.
I play & DM dnd games, I mostly dm comedy/horror stories that I’ve written- haven’t played for a bit though because creating a consistent group is nearly impossible.
Also very much into witchy shit, a tarot card a day keeps the depression away and crystals keep me sane.
I'm totally down for tag games
I enjoy writing fiction although I tend to get burned out easily after writing long projects, you'll see some of my writing posted on here, no clue how often. I also occasionally write fanfiction and poetry though not much.
The genres I generally tend to write have themes of LGBTQ+, mental health, romance, urban fantasy, dark imagery, comedy, horror, coming of age, mind-bending, dreamy, etc.
I also hate plot twists- PLOT TWIST I love them and you will see plenty of them in any and all of my writing.
I love reading others works and if you do too I have a seperate blog dedicated to reblogging other works of fiction @original-writing
Here's a list of my current hyperfixations that I have taken some inspiration from for my stories also if I write fanfic it will most likely be one of these things - Ghibli movies my favorite being Spirited Away | Coraline | Scream | It 2016/Chapter 2 | Gravity Falls | Helluva Boss | Hazbin Hotel | Stranger Things | Arcane | Thirteen Reasons Why | What we do in the Shadows | Our Flag Means Death | Good Omens | The Nevers | The Midnight Club | I Am Not Okay With This | A Series of Unfortunate Events | The End of the F***ing world | BBC’s Sherlock | The Addams Family | Life is Strange | Little Nightmares | Scott Pilgrim | The Seven Realms
My ask box is always open to anyone if you have a question or just wanna chat.
My Writing:
I had more WIPS but have broken this down to the ones that are active. I try to keep the descriptions vague because I don't want to give much away, it's more of a vibe if you will. I am going to be redoing all of the WIP intros so that’s why there aren’t any links currently. Also the writing posted in the tags is a bit outdated since I’ve updated a lot of the stories but I didn’t want delete old posts. I’ll hopefully try to drown it out with new writing. For now here’s a new tag for writing I’ll do from now on If you’d like to be added to the taglist for any of these projects let me know.
Rainclouds
Rain clouds, y'know those little thoughts that seem to pester you mind when you try to convince yourself that everything is fine? yeah that's what this story is about. LGBT+ students in a small town of britain dealing with that voice coming to life as a shadow in their minds. Bittersweet and full of twists and turns. Dark imagery meets slow-burn romance that's seemingly destined for failure. Shattered glass, shattered thoughts, but maybe there is a way to clear the rain, to let someone in. But what if letting them in is what leads to the bridge collapse?
Intro | Playlist | Writing Tag
Stormclouds
Another side of the rainclouds story. A darker side of the story. A friendship lost throughout time but one side still painfully obsessed with the idea of that coming back. Putting on a fake smile to fend off the storm that has already overtaken them, the world that has already decided it doesn't want them there. Full of wonderful fantasies and ideas but those fantasies turning into nightmares as everything seems to go wrong in every way. The mirror never matched, the stories never finished, and worst of all the lights were starting to flicker.
Intro | Writing Tag
Rainy Grove
A forest full of secrets, a place where the sun never seems to come out even in the dead of summer. Haunted perhaps? Who's to know what resides deep in those woods that everyone is warned not to wander into. Once you go in you never come out. But when one bored girl decides it would be fun to take her friend on a hike into the woods to see what really lays beneath. They come to realize that it's not ghosts at all rather seemingly friendly people with very sharp teeth. Full of twists and turns, dark imagery, and characters that turn out not to be black and white as originally believed.
Intro | Writing Tag
Dissociated
It was normal to experience voices in your head, giving you advice, telling you what's right and what's wrong right? At least that's what he'd believed most of his life, even as a child the one thing he remembered was a friend, a friend who didn't actually exist but rather hugged him from the inside and gave him words of hope. But now he was in University where the things that used to only happen sometimes had gotten much worse. The memory blanks, the coming to in places he didn't even remember going, friends talking about conversations they'd had when he hadn't seen them for weeks. It was all getting out of hand, racing through the endless maze in his own head had gotten so much worse. He needed to find a way out, Just a door, something, something that could tell him what was wrong with him.
Intro | Writing Tag
Eldenstow Creek
A drive through the empty roads of the countryside, along the edge of the woods and away from everything they'd once known. Sounds nice right? well not when you're running from something, something far more sinister than what they were about to encounter. The world was not as it seemed, there was another side, a side where strangeness & evil resided. Circuses popping out of seemingly nowhere, pools of mystical water trying to pull them in, unintended consequences after trying to fight this higher power. Everything had seemed normal but then they’d made one mistake, messed with the wrong person, spilled the blood of something they never should've. So yeah. They were in the same car and driving along the edge of the woods. Nothing to it.
Intro | Playlist | Writing Tag
Fanfiction | My Ao3
Skull Rock (Stranger Things Steddie Fanfic) | Read Full On Ao3
Even after everything Steve Harrington was still obsessing over the idea of Nancy Wheeler. Robin kept trying to match him with other girls but it was never right, no matter who he went out with it didn’t work. It didn’t click. But then the dead man walking, Eddie Munson stepped into his life again. Someone he could just talk to, someone who shared the same experiences, Someone who felt just as alone as he did- Well maybe more considering Eddie wasn’t really able to go outside since he was still a ‘serial killer’
In Conclusion
If you made it this far I’m impressed, If you wanna see more from me feel free to give me a follow, if you’re a writer I’d love to be mutuals and I’ll see you sometime soon. This post will continue to be edited and updated as I work on updating my blog. I probably won’t post too much but we’ll see.
#writeblr#writeblr intro#writing#lgbt#neurodivergent#ace#original writing#fiction#fanfic#asexual#lgbtq+#adhd#autism
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One Last Time 01 — Pjm. (M)
⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader
⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst
⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…
⇢ Song : xxxxx
⇢ Word Count : 4.3k
⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!
⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken
⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?
The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?
Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.
Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.
‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal. But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.
You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.
‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.
After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.
Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.
As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend.
‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “
“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”
You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.
“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “ You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.
“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”
“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.
She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.
You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet.
“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “
Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”
Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head.
You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”
“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”
She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”
“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily.
Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.
Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.
“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.
Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.
Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.
There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.
“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”
“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.
Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.
Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”
“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.
You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.
You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.
“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”
Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.
Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”
“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”
A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.
Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?
“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.
“ I’ll space you two apart.”
Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?
“ Wha-what do you mean?”
Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”
“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.
Weird. When did they get so close?
The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.
‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “
Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.
After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.
You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”
Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”
She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.
The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.
The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.
All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.
‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.
“ Jeon Jungkook.?
The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.
As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.
‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.
Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?
With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.
The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.
All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.
‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.
‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’ You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.
‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.
A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.
Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’
Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.
You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.
Only for a knock on the door to interrupt their flow of jokes.
‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.
Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘
You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.
Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.
You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’
‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.
The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.
one..two..three..four..five..si-
‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.
Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.
‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.
‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.
‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.” You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.
The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.
Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’
She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’
You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.
‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘
She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’
‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.
Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.
‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.
She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’
You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’
Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’
Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.
“You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.
Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient
‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back.
‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.
Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do.
‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.
‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.
‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.
Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.
‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?” He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.
You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’
“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.
‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.
‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.
The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan.
Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.
His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.
You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.
Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?
“ Yn.”
Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.
‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.” You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.
You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.
‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”
‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.
‘�� Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.
You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.
‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”
‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.
He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’
You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’
‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.
‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘
Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.
‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold
This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..
#jimin#park jimin#idol jimin#idol!jimin#idol ! jimin#jimin scenario#jimin fanfic#jimin smut#jimin fluff#jimin one shot#jimin imagine#bts imagine#bts imagines#jimin imagines#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#jimin angst#jimin sad#sad jimin#bts reaction#jimin reaction#bts scenarios#bts scenario#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook
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His Good Sweater: Chapter 10
Masterlist
Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol
Word Count: 4.8k
Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS
Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.
He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.
The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.
He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.
He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.
Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.
Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.
Heard from her yet?
No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.
Maybe she fell asleep early?
It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.
Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.
Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls.
And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.
The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.
He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.
“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”
The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.
The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.
There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.
Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.
"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."
The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.
Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.
"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"
"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."
"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."
"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."
Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.
Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.
"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.
Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods.
"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.
Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.
His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.
There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.
**********
It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.
You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.
The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.
If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.
"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."
You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.
"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"
"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"
You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires.
Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.
Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.
The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past.
Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him.
“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.
“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”
“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”
Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.
You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places.
Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.
"Hello?"
"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"
You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.
"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease.
"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."
"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.
"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."
"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"
His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.
"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.
"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone.
"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely.
"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"
She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.
"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"
"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"
"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."
She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"
"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."
"If that's what you wanna believe."
You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."
"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."
She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.
You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.
Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.
Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.
"Hey great race-"
"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"
"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."
"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."
"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"
"It means a lot-"
"Who's that?"
You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue.
"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you.
"Let me talk-"
"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.
It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.
**********
Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.
"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?"
Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."
"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"
"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"
"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"
"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."
Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."
Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.
His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium.
The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.
The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.
He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.
Ten minutes pass with no reply.
The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.
Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.
Really Pierre?
Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back.
I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.
Guess i gotta drink more then
Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"
"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..."
He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."
He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.
He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"
"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."
"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.
"For once I'm not the dumb one."
"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.
"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”
The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy.
"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."
“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”
“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”
“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."
Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.
Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.
Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.
Even drunk, he refused to forget you.
Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.
Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.
#are you feeling the angst yet#pierre gasly#pierre gasly X reader#formula 1#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 fantasy#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 fantasy#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 rpf#f1 rpf#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly fanfiction
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Shapes In The Clouds
Request: can I request a Sebastian x reader (age gap) where he proposes?
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader
Warnings: nun
A/n: Reposting because tumblr wants to be a lil bitch and not put my posts under the tag🙄 Hope you like it lovely, I’m so sorry for the long wait!💛
(Source: Pinterest)
You were a simple girl. You didn’t need anything extravagant or too loud just to appreciate something. You found joy in the smallest of things even if it was a bad situation you found the brighter side of things. You didn’t like being the center of attention. Honestly it terrified you if all the attention were on you. The eyes of everyone on you watching your every move made you want to sink into the floor and hide away from it all. You were quiet but you weren’t shy, your personality was the epitome of sunshine, as Sebastian would say.
Weirdly enough you ended up being the girlfriend of an actor. The opposite of everything you avoided. He had a different lifestyle. Movie sets, red carpets, bright lights, and parties were what his life consisted of. While yours was made up of offices, magazines, cups of coffees, and sleepless nights of endless work. Thankfully, Seb was one of the private ones. Yes, he was active on social media but that didn’t mean he shared every second of his life on Instagram.
Soon the messages turned into dates, and the dates turned into overnight stays at each other’s apartments. Now a year and a half later you two are living together in a homey apartment in the hidden streets of Manhattan.
You heard the sheets rustle as the human furnace beside you shifted in the bed. The arm resting on your chest tightened its grip around you, pulling you closer to their body. A content sigh left the body beside you.
“Sebba.” You groggily mumble, sleep still evident in your voice. You interlaced your fingers with his, cuddling his arm.
“Buna dimineata iubirea mea.” He greeted you with his morning voice that you were oh so fond of. You lazily giggle and turn in his grip, snuggling into his chest. A low chuckle emitted from his chest as he breathed in your familiar scent mixed with your shampoo. The scent together made him feel like he was home. You are his home.
“Don’t go jogging today.” You tangle your limbs with his and made sure to hang onto him like a sloth.
“Give me a good reason not to.”
“I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you.” You finally open your eyes and rub the sleep out of them. You were greeted with Sebastian’s crooked smile and his steel blue eyes. His hand reaches to brush some hair away from your face, his hand settles itself on your cheek.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” He feigns a thoughtful look as if he were debating with his options. Jogging or cuddling? Although Sebastian had other plans besides jogging or cuddling.
“But you’re a huge softie when it comes to my cuddles.” You stare up at him with puppy eyes. Sebastian nuzzles his nose against yours before answering, “I am, but I have other plans for today.”
“Like what?” You ask sitting up, “Today’s not an anniversary or something…right?”
“No, it’s not don’t worry.” He assures you. But it will be, Sebastian thought to himself.
You move to sit on his lap. Naturally, Sebastian shifts and rests his hands around your waist, his palms press against your lower back as he gazes up at you.
“Well, what did you have in plan, babe?” You ask threading your fingers into his hair. Sebastian hums in content.
“How about we pick up some food from that cafe you’ve been wanting to try near Central Park and have a picnic?” He suggests with hopeful eyes. He really hoped you would agree to his plan.
“Ooo, I haven’t been on a picnic in a while now. Let’s do it, I’m down.” You instantly perk up at the mention of a picnic. You missed being outside and sitting on the grass eating while admiring the view.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence.
“I guess that means we should get up now, huh?” Sebastian scrunches his nose.
“One more minute.” He mutters pulling you down so your head is resting in the crook of his neck.
“Make it two.”
🕗 Time Skip
You and Sebastian walked hand in hand on the streets of NY. The weather was perfect. There was a nice autumn breeze and it wasn’t too cold nor too hot. Sebastian knew this was your favorite kind of weather. Only because you got to wear knitted sweaters, ankle boots, and one of his jackets that were quite big on you.
The two of you walked towards the park. A bag of pastries in one of your hands and a tray of iced coffees in Seb’s free hand. When you guys finally found a secluded spot to sit at, Sebastian took out a blanket from his backpack. You guys sat across each other on the blanket, the pastries and coffees in between you two.
You open the bag and pull out a pain au chocolat (basically a chocolate croissant) from the variety of pastries. Holding it up to Sebastian’s mouth you ask, “You want first bite?”
He answers by opening his mouth wide and taking a huge bite. He moans as he chewed.
“Holy shit, that’s good.” You decide to take a bite yourself. When the buttery flakes of the croissant mixed with the chocolate filling entered your mouth it was like pure Heaven.
“Oh, wow.” Sebastian took an iced coffee out from the tray and gave it shake. He takes a straw out of the bag and pokes it into the lid. He held the cup up to you and motioned for you to take a sip. You hum in delight as you take the coffee from his hands. The next few minutes consisted of the two of you eating breakfast, feeding each other food, or wiping crumbs off the other’s face.
The pastries were now long gone. The two of you laid back on the blanket. Your head was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. You listened to his steady heartbeat as you two pointed out shapes in the clouds. Though his heartbeat began to quicken as you pointed at a specific cloud.
“Hey, that one looks like a ring!” You laugh as you point at the cloud. Sebastian freezes at the mention of a ring. His eyes widen for a millisecond before he regains himself.
“Where do you see that?” You gently place your hand on his chin to navigate his attention towards the cloud.
“Look, there’s the band and then there’s the diamond!” You trace out the shapes with your finger. Sebastian feels his breath get deeper and his hands getting clammy.
This was a sign from the universe that you should do this NOW, he thought to himself.
He pats his jean pocket to see if the box that held forever was still there. He let out a sigh of relief and adjusted himself so he was sitting up. While doing so he sat you up so you were sitting across from him.
“Funny you mention a ring.” He chuckles as he lovingly gazed into your eyes. A smile was on your face but the questionable look on you had was obvious. Sebastian takes your hand in his and runs his thumb across the top of it. He brings your hand up to his soft lips, his scruff tickling your fingers as he presses a kiss on it.
“I love you.” He began eyes admiring the different aspects of your face. “I love you so damn much.”
You laugh as you pat his cheek, “I love you too, baby. What’s going on?”
Sebastian takes both your hands into his.
“You are, the greatest thing that has happened to me. Sure, I’ve been in big movies and have a successful career. But that can all go away one day. One thing that I know for sure is that you won’t. For the last two years you’ve been the only constant in my life. You’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. You’ve been so patient and understanding with me and my horrendous schedules. Even when people hated on us for our differences, you didn’t give up on us. You’re the most amazing, beautiful, and talented woman I’ve ever met. I admire you and everything about you. Every little thing you do, that little nose scrunch, the way you hang onto me like a koala, everything.” Sebastian pauses as a nervous chuckle emits from his chest. You look at him in awe, tears forming in your eyes.
“You deserve the absolute world. I don’t know how I got lucky to deserve someone like you. I know this is a really shitty way of doing it but I just couldn’t help myself. I can’t hold it in any longer. I want all of you, for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” Tears are full on streaming down your face as Seb briefly lets go of your hands to get the box out of his pocket. He wipes the tears from his eyes to see you clearly.
“Wait, stand up. I have to at least do this part properly.” He helps you up to your feet as he kneels before you on one knee. He opens the infamous blue box from Tiffany’s. A store you’ve been fond of after watching Audrey Hepburn’s Breakfast At Tiffany’s. The box reveals a ring with a fairly large diamond that shone in the sunlight.
You wipe the tears from your face as you look down at him. Sebastian’s eyes shone in the light as they held your gaze. With one hand in his, he asked you, “(y/n) (m/n) (l/n), will you marry me?”
You immediately nod your head as you move to cradle his face in your hands.
“Yeah. Yes! Oh my god, yes, I’ll marry you!” You lean down as you bring his face closer to yours. Your lips meet in the middle. Time stopping when they touched, as he pulled you down for a passionate kiss, ignoring the taste of the salty tears that ran down your faces. You pull away for air, Sebastian quickly pecks your lips before you’re out of arms length.
He takes your left hand and slides the ring onto your ring finger. The ring fits you perfectly.
“I can’t believe you’re my fiancé oh my god!” You say in disbelief as you wrap your arms around Sebastian.
“Me either. I finally did it.” Sebastian says, mostly to himself. He’s been holding onto that ring for two months now, it’s about time he popped the question.
You lovingly stroke his cheek as your other arm is draped around his shoulder.
“Te iubesc mult.” You whisper against his lips, a smile making its way on your face. Sebastian’s smile grows even more when he hears you speak in his native language.
“Si eu te iubesc.” He replies as he smiles fondly at you.
“Also, are you crazy, Tiffany’s? Seb, that’s so expensive, I would’ve been fine with something else!” You scold him lightly smacking his chest. Sebastian chuckles as his arms squeeze you into his chest.
“I don’t care. You deserve the best.”
“As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”
translations
Buna dimineata iubirea mea - Good morning my love
Te iubesc mult - I love you a lot
Si eu te iubesc - I love you too
#ally’s requests#marvel#mcu#avengers#Bucky barnes#winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan oneshot#sebastian stan headcanons#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan fan fiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#marvel cast x reader
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It’s not about a conspiracy.
So Supernatural ended and, in usual Supernatural fashion, it went down in the craziest, most meta way possible. Two episodes before the finale, they canonized Destiel through Cas’ love confession to Dean then, in one last queerbait, didn’t give Dean a chance to respond then completely left Cas out of the rest of the narrative. Of course it couldn’t end there so a dub error aired in Latin and South America where Dean reciprocates.
Fans, of course, lose their shit and conspiracies fly that this was the CW quashing the Destiel storyline.
Was it?
I seriously doubt it. Not that the CW isn’t very problematic with killing gays and the movement to bring this to light is a good one. However, the script that we have seen says Dean doesn’t reciprocate. Misha said it wasn’t in the script. And the ending that we got confirms that they never intended this to be anything more than Castiel’s ending (hell, the band Kansas may have planned to get more air time ROFL).
It’s much more likely that the whole thing is shitty, thoughtless writing. Let’s be honest, SPN fumbled their way into greatness way more often then they planned it. Let’s face it, Kripke never intended this show to go beyond 2 dudes in a cool muscle car killing things. He never meant to address the deeper issues of fate, God, angels, and free will - he has said as much. He was extremely lucky to have gotten some very talented writers like Ben Edlund who were able to make this shallow idea into a deeper, more complex story. And if it weren’t for the incredible talent of the actors who brought life and meaning and nuance to some pretty bad scripts, this should would never have survived this long. Jensen Ackles’ facial expressions can give us so much more than the words that were on the script. Not to mention a passionate and engaged fandom that could take a throw away line and latch onto it (likely to the surprise of even the writers).
Endings are hard and writers who have to write endings often try to go for shock value and edginess over good story completion. This is why the best show endings are usually the ones that were planned as one story arc from day 1 (see Black Sails, The Good Place, Crazy Ex Girlfriend, Schitts Creek, Breaking Bad). These endings were designed as the culmination of the story narrative that was built towards it. They don’t need to end with happy endings and we may lose great characters, but the narrative and overall arcs stay true and are completed. That’s why they are so satisfying. Supernatural, on the other hand, was never supposed to go 15 years and no one had any idea how to end it. Each year they had to keep going they had to scramble to come up with and idea and Chuck being the ultimate big bad was a stroke of genius that was stumbled into and definitely not planned since the beginning.
When J2 decided it was time to move on, the writers had to figure out an ending. We know from cast meet and greets that as recently as weeks before the were supposed to shoot the finale it was still being changed and was pretty shaky. On top of that, just as they were supposed to shoot their finales, Covid19 hit and whatever it was they planned had to be re-written because of restrictions and logistics and they couldn’t just wait till Covid was over because their cast and crew had new jobs lined up they needed to move on to. So, they scrambled and cobbled something together and, like GoT, HIMYM, and Dexter, tried to go for shock and edgy rather than looking back at the themes of their narrative to tie it all together. It ended up coming across as lazy and mediocre at best, regressive and queerphobic at worst. But I don’t think they ever planned to make this anything but a nostalgic homage to the pilot. Again, I’m sure they thought they were being clever, but it backfired.
It was so empty and disjointed from the rest of the narrative that much of the audience watched thinking that can’t possibly be what was planned! The story must have gotten gutted by the CW or something, right? Tell me they didn’t just completely ignore the boys’ character growth and the queer storyline that had been a major thread for a dozen years! Guys, that’s exactly what they did because, in their minds, having the finale be nothing but a call back to the pilot was some crackerjack writing. They were actually proud that they would get to make everyone cry, make only 30% of fans satisfied, and be so shocking they upstaged Game of Thrones for an ending (all Dabb quotes that I don’t feel like finding and citing but you can easily). Jared even talked about all the things they put in there from the clothes to John’s journal to make it a big homage to the pilot. Sadly, that approach just made it hollow because it made the audience wonder what the other 15 years were for. But sometimes writers shoot for something and miss... by a long shot.
So I know the conspiracies' can be fun. I have had a blast the last few days laughing at the memes and the powerpoints. But please, take them with a grain of salt and don’t go down a dangerous rabbit hole. The most likely answer is right in front of our faces: shitty writing. Stay sane. Stay an SPN family.
And by all means, keep fighting for better queer representation. Boycott the CW (I know I never plan to watch anything there again) and unfollow their social media. Stop spending money on official merchandise and support artists. Use the hashtags to bring attention to the treatment of LGBT characters in media. Make your voices heard loud that we deserve better. But if the focus is on some Spanish dub conspiracy, it will be brushed off as crazy fangirl nonsense. Focus on the actual intentional behavior that we know they did; the queerbait of Cas in 18 to gain audience interest for a finale that had no intention of paying off. Focus on the killing of all of the LGBT characters in media. And find stories of good representation and solid consistent story arcs to support (the ones I named above are a few excellent examples).
I love you, my passionate, thoughtful SPN family. Just try to stay sane and level headed through your ire.
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Sukuna || Interview || Fic
Part 1
Content ║ Punk!Sukuna x reader. There is an oc version here.
Beauty wasn’t in the eye of the beholder, no, it is in the mind. Sukuna was enraptured. Addressed again, he shifted his posture, leaning into the arm of the couch as she did with her chair. The two were close in their cohort. An air of comfortable conversation lingered between them, much to his dismay. Her question wasn’t unusual. He’d been asked it in the beginning of his career and one where he had a planned answer.
Count ║ 2,626 K
Consider ║ Swearing. Female Pronouns (she/her).
Creator ║ This is the reader version. I took the name of the oc out. Hopefully the double post isn’t too weird? I did research on punk fashion, culture, and all which was really interesting. I knew some stuff about it before, but it’s really rich! I hope it’s not too information dense for you guys. Either way, Punk!Sukuna is now my comfort au and writing him is an absolute delight!! Also, Sorry for changing from ‘you’ to she/her ;v; it’s a lot easier for me to write/edit this way.
Sukuna had a lazy grin as he lounged back into a modern cream sofa. His arm stretched across the back of it, ankle crossed over his knee. Eyes staggered from the two cameras set up to the woman talking with some other chick. One held a small stack of papers, the other was grandly gesturing. He breathed out a short-stop breath, wishing they wouldn’t waste his time with bickering. Annoying as it was, it left a thick self-satisfactory lather over his ego.
“-didn’t you say the band?”
“Yeah, but this is better.”
“Sure… but what happens if-“
Quite frankly, he hated most press and avoided it, so to just have him in the hot seat was a double-edged blade. They didn’t get the whole band, but they did have The King himself. Whatever publicity he thrived off of were live shows, signings, fancams, tangible and real-time events. Interviews were a complete and utter waste of his time. He did a couple in the beginning, but found them pointless, callous even. They all asked the same shit. So, him coming alone was absolutely a note to pin to the fridge, even if it were a passive-aggressive post-it note.
His head turned to the two going back and forth. It wasn’t until the third minute ticked by that Sukuna felt the flashpoint of his blood plummet, “Yo! We doing this or what? You’re wasting my time here, Eros.”
The blogger whipped her head to the man with an indignant, “Excuse me?”
“Eros. Known for being reckless and unreliable? Like your scheduling.” He leaned forward, elbow on knee and chin in palm. The aura of shit-eatery exponentially growing, “You’re not excused, sorry, not sorry Princess.”
“I think you have the wrong God,” She quipped as she dusted off the front of her outfit. It was a smart look and an intentional one for an interview with a punk rocker. What would strike the best complement than a khaki academic outfit? It consisted of a white high collared button up, sleeves billowing before cinching at her wrists. The blouse was stuffed into high-waisted, cuffed khaki chinos, pleated at the center of each pant leg. Over top, a gray woolen sweater vest. Accessories included various silver rings, a black ribbon to tie under the folded collar, and small silver studs as earrings. Makeup remained that done-up natural with brow, liner, and mascara. Hair had been swept into something similar to a faux 1920’s bob, pulled loosely back. The overall silhouette made the perfect contrast.
Sukuna wanted to peg her as your average superficial fashion bitch, he really did. Even at the concert, she dressed smartly despite the pathetic look on she wore on face. It wasn’t until afterwards when he saw the burn in her eyes, that he craved for her to prove him wrong.
Black flats clacked as she approached her own seat, a matching armchair to the couch. She held a certain command once she walked in, instructing him on where to be, which camera to look at, and what the introduction would be. He listened, admiring how her small frame moved to and fro, fixing up last minute edits on a paper, chattering with who he assumed to be a videographer. It was a whole production. One that was hers. The set itself was practically out of a home décor magazine. It was a general space used across the publisher, but she was born to be there. Deserved to be there. Her calculated glee and deliberate positioning of each member made him feel as though he were looking through a mirror.
The interview process began.
She sat professionally, legs crossed and leaning on the arm of her chair closest to Sukuna. He was unmoving, that slit to his lip curling upwards as the cameras began. She introduced the blog, the channel, her social media handles. With a smile, she introduced herself, “With me in this special is lead singer of Two Face, the King of Curses – Sukuna.”
The camera panned to his lazy wave, “Yo.” He looked to her, she looked to him and for a moment she thought she saw a flicker of interest. Maybe the man was meant for cameras after all.
“After looking more into the punk scene, there’s a pretty interesting history behind it. Revolution, social discourse, poverty, violence, and unity. As someone in the scene, can you talk a little bit about what you know of the background?”
Sukuna drank in her voice, smooth and warm like the steady strum of a bass guitar. For a moment, he wondered if she sang. He quirked a brow, “Sounds like you didn’t research enough to summarize it yourself,” Eyes flickered to her features, watching as slight annoyance crinkled onto her nose then smoothed, “Let me learn you, Daisy. Starting back from rock in the 50’s, take that, strip it, build it with shit you find in the backyard…” His wrist rolled as his harmonious voice sang on, lacking even a single stutter as he summarized the movement top to bottom, inside and out, “…So, people would make their own records, sell them in plastic bags, they’d scan and reprint photos to make their own ‘zines. Shit was hard to distribute without tech…”
Much of his dissertation, she hadn’t even found on her own deep dive into the culture. Sure, the anarchist and nihilistic ideologies were well known to pretty much anyone who would listen, but the deep history and connection between communities was far beyond the surface scratched into.
“There’s a crowd of sub-genres now. Fuck ‘punk is dead’ what even is that bull shit?” Sukuna scoffed, jerking his chiseled chin to the side, “Only thing that’s dead here is – ironically – peoples drive to change.”
His interviewer sat in silence for a moment, mind spinning. He spoke in the way a well-educated University professor gave a dissertation to his peers, dripping in confidence from his storm of information. He was articulate despite the fowl language, even including a tie in to modern perception. Excitement curled into the recess of her mind. In a delightful turn of events, expectation and reality didn’t match up.
She leaned forward slightly folding her hands over the arm of the chair, “That was comprehensive. Thanks!” She chuckled, causing the man before her to freeze and thaw with a nod. She continued, “With all of this mention of D.I.Y. culture in punk, let’s talk about Vivienne Westwood.”
Sukuna kept his attention to her profile as she spoke to the camera, catching himself in the glow of her enthusiasm, “On Kings Road in England, she kickstarted the fashion movement into gear. Now, many would think that with a style such as this, it would’ve been hand-me-downs, pins, self-stitching, but contrary to this belief, many of the clothes in her store were expensive. Knock offs circulated, and seeing as much of it did have that hand-done finishing touch, many decided to take tailoring to their own hands…” Not that this was a competition, but she found herself trying to prove his ‘research’ comment wrong. Her ability to scour and exhaust her resources of fashion history is the furnace that kept her going and she would make it well known that she was not to be challenged.
The approaching lurch of a stalemate stuck to the walls of the vocalist’s stomach. Something he didn’t think he’d feel for a while. Small stuff over here may not’ve known all there was about the cultural history, but he could feel the crashing wave of fascination washing over him as she spoke. Sure, some of it he knew. Some of it he naturally garnered from stylistic preference and others he learned for marketing, however there was just a certain target she aimed for with such precision that he bled a newfound admiration.
Beauty wasn’t in the eye of the beholder, no, it is in the mind. Sukuna was enraptured. Addressed again, he shifted his posture, leaning into the arm of the couch as she did with her chair. The two were close in their cohort. An air of comfortable conversation lingered between them, much to his dismay. Her question wasn’t unusual. He’d been asked it in the beginning of his career and one where he had a planned answer. As practiced, “I ans-“
“You’ve answered it already, yeah, I know. I saw the interview,” Her head tilted to the side, pleasant smile hinting at her trick, “but enlighten me for a second about how your natural style transitioned to what it is on stage. We’ll put up some of the photos taken from last night here,” her hand gestured to some empty space, “You basically turned chiaroscuro and made it a performance. It’s obvious in how each member contrasted with themselves and the stage.”
The chick didn’t even know who he was a week ago, yet somehow watched every interview since the start? An answer tumbled from the tongue readily, “Punk is like a renaissance of music. Like I said before, it tore down the foundations of what was before and built something new out of it.” The words were succinct, but as her pretty lashes bat, he was goaded into continuing, “Contrast is important. I like art. I like plays. Just ‘cause it’s punk doesn’t mean I can’t have it look aesthetic? Or is that a word only snobby fashion journalists can use now?”
“Hm. Change ‘journalist’ to ‘vocalist’ and you’re a word away from meeting the requirement,” It was a sour candy treat traded for his lemon warhead.
“Ouch. Miss Blog-Spot here has some sass,” His large frame leaned further into the armrest, cheek resting on that fist.
“Mister Eight-Track here is some a–“
The videographer clapped his hands, “We have sponsors, you know. We can at least censor him.”
It was Sukuna’s time to laugh a loud, hyena-like cackle. A large hand smacked his leather-clad knee. She scrunched her nose again, biting back her tongue from childishly jutting out at him.
As soon as the videographer clapped his hands again, she recollected herself, shuffled her papers, and continued on, “From what it looks like, you took a mixture of old and new high-trend brands and added a touch to them to keep with theme. Even now, you’re wearing a Real McCoy with cone spikes embedded. Is that custom made? McCoy isn’t cheap.”
Part of him hated her keen eye, but reveled in her raw talent all the same. “I’m not going to bull shit you and say I dumpster dive for my clothes. I like high quality things. What’s the point in making money if I can’t spend it? What’s a bigger ‘fuck you’ than having your version of a top-brand item being worth more than the original?” With a proud glint in his eye, he rolled the jacket off, sure to make a grand display of strong, bare arms as he did so. The muscle tank he wore was similar to the concert before, white with a pocket, neckline was stretched and worn. It hung over the dense muscle of his shoulders and chest. Sukuna could feel the trail of her eyes on him. His chest puffed from her approval. He threw the jacket over his knee, flipping the leather inside out to show where the studs had been placed, “See this? Did it myself.”
Manicured fingers touched the inside of the jacket, thumbing the connecting points that the studs were pressed in by and sealed. The work was immaculate. Sukuna leaned back, canines gleaming as he saw her mouth move in a silent ‘wow’. He picked the front of his tank top, snapping it up and allowing it to billow back to his body, “Embroidered this, too.”
He waited for her comment, her praise. Why? Like he needed some two-bit Vanderbilt bitch’s validation. He chalked it up to being praised by a master of the craft. He hadn’t been prepared for her to take the fabric between her fingers and rub it, concentrated brows cinched like a corset. Well-toned abs flinched in response to her delicacy, but she didn’t notice.
The embroidery was messy and chaotic, but it was obviously intentionally. The way the needlework was so clean, barely leaving a hole from the pull of the exceptionally soft fabric. It wasn’t floral like in the concert, but abstract stitching created crosses and streaks here and there, using the composition of the fabric as like it were a canvas. Experimentalist. It was like touching the work of Westwood herself.
God, she hated how perfect it was. It squeezed her heart to know that he was so effortlessly multi-talented. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers once more, attention being stolen by his baritone voice. She could practically hear the treble in it, “Ey Princess, you think it’s okay to just touch me?” His breath caught under the arrogant teasing of his words. Not from the words themselves. Couldn’t care less about that. What choked him up was whatever resplendent emotion flared from them when she peered up to him.
“Let me check the tag.”
“What?”
The blogger leaned back, cheekily snapping the shirt as she did so. “Your shirt, can I check the tag? I want to see what its made out of. Also, sorry.”
Sukuna blinked twice, mouth stupidly hanging open before he leaned forward, “I’ll allow it.”
He may have tinnitus, but he wasn’t deaf enough yet to miss the mocking ‘I’ll allow it,’ muttered under her breath. He wanted to laugh, but for the second time, the graze of chilled fingertips along his skin shut him up. Along the back of his neck, she fiddled to flip the collar and tug it. Her eyes squinted and a hum escaped her throat. Sometimes she wished she could read upside down. That’s when she sat on the back on the sofa and leaned closer, pulling the shirt to better read the small print. If Sukuna were a cat, he’d lean his head into her. The thought physically bothered him.
“I knew it. It’s American Pima. Thanks for letting me check.”
He missed the shiver her touch gave him as she sat back into her chair.
“While I have more questions for you, this video’s gotten pretty long already, so we’ll have to cut it a bit short here,” She gave a closing statement, motioning for her guest to do the same. With a thanks, the cameras were cut.
While the editor and videographer chatted together, She leaned heavily into the back of her chair, poised posture slipping into something more comfortable. Long lashes slid closed and a heavy drag of breath lifted her chest. Sukuna’s eyes trailed along her form, contemplating Eros once more.
She exhaled sharply, “I do appreciate you coming on stage. It’s disgusting how talented you are.” She laughed, cracking an eye open to meet his, “I prepped a lot of questions thinking you’d be short with me. It’s a shame I only got to ask a few.”
He was surprised himself. It was more than just her talent to make him talk - she may have been the first to see him as an opportunity rather than a commodity. ‘She would be the first and last reporter to see me as a meal’ was the thought he had going into this interview. He had every single intention to shut down her buffet, make it apparent that he was not to be dined on by a single soul. Yet, if his dish were ‘opportunity’, hers would be ‘intrigue’. He wanted to devour it, to know its palette and identify its spices. It was a compulsory urge to order, just to see why he craved it in the first place.
“Film the next few concerts. Backstage.”
Tags: @lovesakusa
#⛩.sukuna#⛩.fic#⛩.punk#🍺.jjk#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryoumen sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fic
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Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion
1. Operation: Meet Shiratorizawa
*Both written and SMAU parts this epsiode*
You hear the familiar sound as you open the door and look inside the gym. The Shiratorizawa campus is definitely impressive but nothing feels more familiar than walking into a strange gym filled with mostly strangers. Back home or a world away, volleyball is the same, perfect sport.
"Y/nnnnnn!"
You're smiling wide before you even lock eyes with your favourite redhead. "Tendou!"
Your greeting is muffled in a bear hug to beat all bear hugs and you can't help but laugh as you wrap your arms around your cousin's best friend.
"I am glad you could make it." Toshi is standing behind Tendou with a small smile and you pull away to give him a hug too.
"Let us introduce you to coach first, and then you can meet the others."
"Sounds good!"
The three of you walk over to the side where a small elderly man is scowling at the players on the court and when Toshi introduces you, you follow what you know of polite customs here and bow at the waist in greeting, "Thank you for having me!"
"I hear you play as a setter for a premier league."
Yeah, Tendou and Toshi weren't lying about his intimidating demeanor, but you're unfazed. You've dealt with some like him and they're good leaders in their own way.
"Yes, sir."
"You're quite short for your age."
You blink. You're pretty sure you're the average height for girls your age. You're definitely on or above average in your league even though you're not as tall as your hitters. Okay, cheeky, it is.
"Yes, sir. I hear that sometimes from opponents before we play. Not so much after a game, however, if at all." Tendou starts chuckling only to muffle it when the coach's sharp gaze locks onto him for a moment before focusing back on the court.
"Is that so." He finally looks over, making eye contact and drawing out the silence for a few quiet seconds. "Well, height isn't critical for a setter, though it's an asset."
"Yes, sir." You have to bite the inside of your cheek so you don't push it. You're aware of his status and tenure, after all. To someone like him, kids your age with a little cheeky boldness and confidence can be surprising and impressive. Too much is disrespectful and you're still a guest here at the end of the day.
He looks back at the team and you do startle a bit when he barks out, "Did I say it was time for a break?!"
Looking over to the court, you finally realize the practice game has all but stopped. You meet several wide eyed, disbelieving stares before they jolt back into motion.
Tendou and Toshi leave you there to rejoin their teammates with a grimace and a nod, respectively. You just smile blandly and take a seat next to their coach.
-x-x-x-
By the time Coach Washijo blows the whistle for the end of their practice, you've got a clipboard on your lap with notes and the begrudging respect of the ornery man beside you. Yes, you know your shit when it comes to volleyball and you didn't hesitate to use your knowledge to impress. You have a feeling he'll be taking a look at the link you wrote down to your national games at some point given the observations you pointed out. Mission: Success.
As the boys are grabbing water and towels and gathering around, Coach locks eyes with you once again to study you as you smile politely back at him, waiting for what he's chewing over. "You can visit again."
And then he stands to address his team before heading over to his office and leave them to clean up.
You look away from his retreating figure and, oh my, that's a lot of eyes on you. Why do athletes look so pretty? You smile wider and stand to introduce yourself, "Hello. I'm L/n, Y/n, Toshi's cousin. Nice to meet you all and thank you for having me here for this practice."
You bow and they start stuttering and speaking over each other while Tendou laughs, knowing you're also teasing a little. They're clearly flustered so it takes the edge of your own nerves and your smile relaxes into something a little easier.
"Wow.. that was.. different. I've never seen anyone interact with Coach like that." You look over to an ash haired boy, oh hello- "I'm Eita Semi. Nice to meet you.”
He sounds a little brusque.. hmm. He's their setter and knowing Toshi and Tendou...
"Semi-san, your sets... they really show your love for volleyball."
His mouth drops, hopefully in surprise, but you also hope you didn't say anything too forward? You know it's pretty different here and some things like feelings aren't used as carelessly in conversation but.. he's blushing. Oh no.
You try to correct, just in case, "I mean, I hope it's not presumptuous or inappropriate to say! I'm lucky to call myself a setter too, so from one to another, I just wanted to say I can see how much fun you have and it's inspiring!"
Okay, now Tendou is literally dying of laughter, bent over grabbing his stomach but you can see his face and yeah, he literally looks like the emoji that's crying with laughter. And- what?! Even Toshi is smiling a little, he knows that under your calm and playful exterior there's an impulsive, reckless storm.
Semi raises his hand up to the back of his head and you swear he's full on blushing. Okay, yeah, no, you're good. It might sound cruel but when you see people more embarrassed or flustered than you, usually, you find your own equilibrium steadies in response.
"That's- uh- thanks! I hear you're incredible. I mean, as a setter. I- Thanks."
The rest of the team has been looking on and slowly amusement and excitement is like a wave that slides across their features. One of his teammates hits Semi across the back, knocking him forward a bit, while teasing him about compliments from a pretty girl. But you politely pretend not to hear and focus on some of the other members as they start asking you about yourself and answering your return questions about each of them.
I think we can call Operation: Meet Shiratorizawa a success, you think, happily satisfied with the people your dear cousin has to call his teammates and friends.
Prev | Next
Masterlist
Behind The Scenes!
-Toshi is not directly related to Y/n but they might as well be brother and sister for how close they are
-He’s actually her (bear with me, please) dad’s brother’s sister-in-law’s son : Her uncle’s wife is an Ushijima - so her aunt by marriage is sister to Toshi’s mom.. I’m sorry, am I making any sense?
-Their mutual cousins will appear in the story, you’ve already seen their profiles in Family Matters: Kazuya, Akira, and Akari
-Tendou has known Y/n as long as he’s known Toshi and treats her like a cross between best friend and older brother, which means he’s sometimes mean, always teasing, and he will smack, cut, bury a bitch if they hurt her
A/N: Two things.. 1) I absolutely love Ushijima, I find he's seriously underrated. Although I guess I’m guilty here too because he’s Y/n’s family instead of a love interest 😔 If anyone ever wants to see a Toshi fic, let me know, I’ll do my best to work on his characterization 2) CHARACTERIZATION... guys, I’ve wondered this with all the HQ characters I’ve incorporated so far, but.. I don’t know if I’m hitting anywhere close to what they might actually be like in the scenarios I put them in?? So I apologize in advance, and profusely, for all the HQ characters that turn out not quite.. the way they should lol. The writing kinda sorta maybe gets away from me all the time 😅
I lied, there's a third.. I know I've made several posts on days that I've posted so far, and while I do hope to be consistent with a steady couple posts a week (particularly concerning this fic, or rather, not including other fics and stuff I might decide to post as I get more comfortable here), I may not always be able to deliver the same amount of content as I a) am still slowly getting a handle on the social media aspect and how to smoothly deliver it; and b) catch up to where I'm at in the story. So I just want you all to know, I really appreciate your patience with me <3
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu soulmate au#poly relationship#haikyuu x you#haikyuu suna#haikyuu osamu#haikyuu atsumu#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu oikawa#haikyuu bokuto#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu smau#hq smau#haikyuu poly au#hq#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x f!reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu smau series#haikyuu fic#suna rintarō#miya osamu#miya atsumu#kuroo tetsurō#oikawa torū#bokuto kotaro#suna x reader#osamu x reader
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home | jeon wonwoo
ミ★ synopsis: in which you decide to tell your old high school bully that your roommate you’ve been pining after for the past eight months is your boyfriend.
ミ★ genre: crack, fluff, fake relationship tings, roommates!
ミ★ warnings: none!
ミ★ word count: 2,089
ミ★ pairings: wonwoo x female reader
ミ★ notes: hi! back with another oneshot ! I plan to release a oneshot for each member of seventeen at some point during my tumblr career hehe. I recently hit 60 followers which is really crazy? I gained a lot from the mini social media au I made and it really made me like :,) because hehe validation anyways, enjoy this cute little oneshot i wrote for my boy wonwoo!
“There’s no way he’s your boyfriend yn, not even the high school furry liked you!” Your old bully tells you, staring at the guy you pointed at in disbelief. You frown at her, feeling the nerves building up in your stomach from the blatant LIE you just spoke.
Now here you were at the coffee shop you work at to help pay for your basic needs while you’re in college. It’s a rather cute shop, if you do say so yourself, not too far from your shared apartment with your roommate Wonwoo.
The story of how you and Wonwoo became roommates is rather short and anticlimactic. Basically you and Wonwoo had mutual friends (read: Mingyu) and said mutual friend was like “Okay, my bffie Wonwoo is looking for a roommate and you need a place to stay, I think I’ve connected the dots.”
“You didn’t connect shit.”
“No, I’ve connected them.”
And that’s how you and Wonwoo met, through sir Mingyu. You guys have been living together for a year and a half now. You both get along rather well, your dynamic is nice. Wonwoo is rather clean, but he can’t really cook for the life of him so you’re the one who does the cooking at the apartment. You both like to read beside each other at night. Usually you guys have discussions on your current read and whether or not you guys would recommend the book to anyone or not. It’s like your own mini book club.
At first, this next activity was just a you thing. On Fridays when you weren’t busy, you’d put in a movie and make pizza. In the first month you started doing this, Wonwoo would just take a piece of pizza then retreat to his room after bidding you a small, “Thanks!” In the second month of you living together, Wonwoo started joining in on your movie nights. You both started switching off on who would choose the movie every week, and now it’s a tradition.
and now you both have hidden feelings towards each other but are too afraid to make a move, but that’s not important. yes it is you’re lying.
Wonwoo also likes to stop by and pick you up from work at times because he knows you don’t appreciate walking home alone, even though you do work rather close to where you guys live. This is due to an incident where a homeless man got mad at you for only giving him a five dollar bill, grabbing your arm forcefully so that you couldn’t run away. You ended up kicking him in the area where the sun does not shine, and you sprinted to your apartment crying. Wonwoo calmed you down by making you tea, and promised to try and pick you up from work when he could.
So that’s how you end up in this position now. You’re about to end your shift, and Wonwoo is waiting at one of the tables drinking the hot chocolate you made him as he waits for you. Only for your old bully from high school to suddenly walk in and start… a whole… conversation with you….
“Oh my god, yn?” You glance up from the latte you’re making, only to immediately look back down at it because jesus christ it’s fucking Eunji.
Eunji made your high school life absolute ass. She always befriended the people you’d start talking to, making them leave you behind as she told them false rumors. Of course, her being the more sociable one, they believed her right away. Who would believe the quiet one who has like one friend? Yeah, that’s right. You were rather lonely during high school due to this, but as soon as you entered college, things got a lot better.
You met Mingyu first, the 6’2” giant who has the personality that resembles a puppy. You became friends due to a shared chemistry class you were both forced to take. You bonded well over the fact that you both dislike science, and became best friends. He introduced you to his other friends after you and Wonwoo moved in together, and now your friend group consists of 12 other guys who act like babies. Basically, Mingyu is a friend matchmaker, a rather successful one at that.
“My god, it really is you. Do you go to Seoul University too?” She asks as she steps closer to the counter, tapping her acrylics on the hard surface. You clench your jaw slightly, turning around and placing the now finished latte on the other counter, calling out the customer’s name, before heading back over to take her order.
“Yeah, I’m in the psychology building.” You tell her with a fake smile, preparing the register to take her order.
“Oh really? Still quite a nerd, huh?” She asks with the most shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life, and it makes you want to jump across this counter and choke her. However, you choose to ignore her comment for the sake of your income.
“What would you like to order Eunji?”
“Are you dating anyone yet?” She asks instead, and it takes everything in your being to not sigh out loud.
“Yn, I’ll be taking over now.” You hear Yeri say behind you, and you let out a small smile. “It was nice seeing you Eunji.” You tell her, turning around and taking off your apron.
“Thank you Yeri.” You whisper and she gives you a knowing smile, nodding her head as you walk off.
You head towards the back where the break room is, unlocking your locker. You bite your lip at the recent conversation with the spawn of satan herself, letting your head hit the metal for a moment. You haven’t had a boyfriend, ever. You’ve been a bit luckier during your time in college because you have had a few guys ask you out, but you always turn them down. Why? Because you only want one guy, and that happens to be your goddamn roommate.
Letting out a sigh, you take out your padded coat and put it on, along with your red scarf. You step out of the break room, making your way to Wonwoo, only for Eunji to stop right in front of you with a big smile on her face.
“You never answered my question, do you have a boyfriend yet, yn?” You stare at her with the most deadpan expression, trying to step past her but she blocks you once again.
“Why aren’t you answering? Is it cause you still haven’t managed to get a guy to like you?” She asks with a small chuckle and you feel your blood boil.
god. this bitch is obsessed with me !!
“Actually Eunji, I do have a boyfriend. He’s waiting for me right now at that table over there.” You say, pointing over to where Wonwoo is sitting. She turns to look, and her eyes widen before she turns back to look at you.
“Jeon Wonwoo??” You nod your head with a small smile, feeling the regret pooling at your stomach.
haha why did i just do that :D
When you told Eunji that Wonwoo was your boyfriend, you completely forgot the fact that Jeon Wonwoo... was one of the most eligible bachelors at Seoul University... aha… ahahah….
“Yeah, we’ve been together for over a year now.” You say with a forced smile, which you hope looks genuine. She gapes at you, “There’s no way he’s your boyfriend yn, not even the high school furry liked you!”
Ouch.
“Thanks Eunji.” You tell her, trying to walk over to Wonwoo who is too invested in his book to have even noticed you being harrassed by this purple haired twat. Eunji’s faster though, and she walks over and starts a conversation with Wonwoo despite the absolute horror written across your face.
“Hi Wonwoo, my name is Eunji.” She says, giving a rather.. flirtatious smile. You frown immediately at the sight.
“Uh, hi?” He says, placing his bookmark into the book and turning to give her his attention.
“That girl, yn, over there,” She turns to point at you and his eyes widen a bit once he realizes that you’re off your shift. He gives you a smile and you give him a nervous smile back. “She says you’re her boyfriend?”
It’s almost comical how Wonwoo’s eyes widen even more and you almost facepalm. Eunji takes notice of this, and her lips form into a small smirk.
“Is this true?” She asks him and he glances over at you. You’re staring down at the floor, fiddling with your hands. Wonwoo feels his heart warm, and he stands up, towering over Eunji. She smiles at Wonwoo, thinking he’s gonna flirt with her as she takes in his handsome features from close up, only for him to step past her and make his way over to you.
“Wait wha-”
Wonwoo pulls you into his warm embrace and your eyes widen, arms instinctively wrapping around his middle. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and you feel your face turn red. “How cute, you’re telling people I’m your boyfriend now?” He whispers as you pull away from him to look at his face. You give him a playful glare, about to push him away when Eunji stops you in your tracks.
“Wait. You’re actually dating this girl?”
“Uh, hell yeah? She’s perfect hello.” Wonwoo says as if it’s the most obvious thing ever, and you feel your knees turn to jelly. Thinking to yourself, oh my god the guy i’ve been pining over for the past eight months just said i’m perfect. Eunji gives you a death glare, her ears turning red from anger.
“T-that’s ridiculous! You could’ve dated literally anybody else, and you choose her?!” She asks, voice getting higher in pitch the angrier she gets. Wonwoo glares at her, immediately making her cower a bit. You raise an eyebrow at the sight of Eunji actually being a bit afraid.
“I don’t know who you think you are that you have the right to say that about my girlfriend, or anyone in that matter, but it’s not right. I love yn, she’s my girlfriend for a reason. I’m sorry that you’re too jealous of her to even realize how wonderful of a person she is.” He defends you and you feel your face heat up again.
ima kiss this man right square on the mouth with his CONSENT.
“B-but, you never… you never made it apparent that you guys were even dating! There’s no way, this has to be a setup-” Wonwoo effectively cuts off Eunji.
By turning his head towards you and planting his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen for a split second because holy fucking shit, before closing them and kissing him back. You take notice of how soft his lips are, and how they taste faintly of chocolate and whipped cream. Wonwoo tastes a bit of coffee on your lips with a hint of caramel as well. He smiles against your lips at the thought of you sneaking some caramel syrup, thus causing you to smile as well.
“Were you eating some of the caramel syrup while you were making coffee?” He whispers against your lips teasingly, and you giggle. “What kind of person would I be if I wasn’t, Jeon Wonwoo.”
“O-oh my God.” Eunji mutters defeatedly, turning around and basically running out of the coffee shop. Once she’s gone, you and Wonwoo stare at each other with blushing faces.
“So, you like me huh?” He asks and you roll your eyes playfully, getting ready to push him away once again, only for him to squeeze your shoulders.
“You’re the one who kissed me Wonu.”
“You’re the one who said I’m your boyfriend, when I don’t remember us having reached that step yet.”
“Touché.”
You both stare at each other, challenge in your eyes. Only for you to let out a small giggle after a moment, and he chuckles too. He places a small kiss on your forehead, before pulling back and intertwining your fingers together.
“Let’s talk about this at home, huh?” He suggests and you nod your head eagerly.
“Please.” You both head out of the coffee shop, starting your walk home.
“I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent yn, I realize I should’ve asked you before I did it.” Wonwoo apologizes, and you nudge him a bit.
“I’ve been pining after you for like eight months, it was quite literally a dream come true.”
“Eight months huh?” He teases and you hit his arm making him laugh.
“You know, who was that girl? Why was she so mean to you?” Wonwoo asks after a moment of walking in silence and you let out a small sigh as you swing your guys’ intertwined hands.
“Now that, is a long story…. that I will tell at home.” You answer and he smiles. You both think to yourselves a bit more, settling back into a comfortable silence. Only for Wonwoo to break it and ask,
“Wanna make jjajangmyeon?”
“Hell fucking yeah I do.”
“Great, it’s a date.”
“Wonwoo, we live together.”
“Even better!”
#seventeen#seventeen oneshots#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#seventeen crack#seventeen au#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo oneshots#wonwoo au#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo crack#wonwoo fic
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For the Time Being.| gyu💫(2)
╰─▸🖤❝ @[𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈.. ]
✎𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒃𝒆𝒐𝒎𝒈𝒚𝒖 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
✎ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆¡
✎ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕; 2k
[@𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆] 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒇..
-ˏˋ🍧 “𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒎–𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘? 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆…”. ˎˊ-
“so, how much did you pay him?”. yara snarled to you as the game began wrapping up. your university team had won at a 15 point blow out. the game was really close and you had to say the team did an amazing job keeping their score up. and no, you weren’t staring at how happy beomgyu was celebrating with his team members, smiling and high fiving them out of pure triumph.
“she’s ignoring you on purpose yara”. rayne mentions grabbing her purse. you quickly snap out of it.”I’m not ignoring her. I don’t have to respond to her negativity all the time”.
yara smirks, “negativity? just admit you paid beomgyu to talk to you. and it’s a fucked up thing to do if you asked me. if a guy likes me I’d like him to like me naturally”.
“I didn’t pay him. he came up to me first”.
“so after you saw yara and rayne gushing over him you went away and came back with him holding your hand out of nowhere?”. sage questions skeptically.
“he said he wanted to walk me to my seat”. you mumbled.
“yeah ri--”.
“hey”. beomgyu interrupted just two steps away from you down the bleachers. he was looking directly at you as if your friends weren’t even there. a small smile flickered at the corner of his lips. you were surprised to even see him.
“hey beomgyu”. you greet sort of shyly, pathetically.
“it’s like a ritual after we win a game, all the guys just go out and celebrate whether it be alone or all together. I was wondering if you want to come maybe?”.
he looked so shy but he was looking at you confidently and you thought it was kind of cute. he was trying to be brave for you.
“if you don’t have any plans already”. he adds.
“no I don’t. I’ll come”. you agreed with a nodding head. the trio looked at you in disbelief, perhaps you paid him for this ordeal too.
“you played good tonight beomgyu”. rayne rushed to say, looking as desperate as possible. you made your way down the steps with the help of beomgyu who slid his hand into yours to help you. he nodded to rayne uttering a small thank you before he turned around to leave with you.
you had to say, that shit felt good to do.
the crowd was slowly spilling out of the doors and to make sure you didn’t get lost beomgyu was clutching your hand tightly. you hoped to god something embarrassing didn’t happen like your hand releasing waterfalls of sweat out of nowhere.
“so are we really going somewhere? or did you do that to save me from my bitchy friends?”.
beomgyu laughs a little, “maybe a little bit of both. did they believe you?”.
“they think I paid you to talk to me”. you admitted tossing in an eye roll for good measure.
“wow they really think you’re that incapable of getting a man?”.
“I guess so”. you murmured. beomgyu was tugging you until the both of you were finally out of the crowded and may you add, very humid gymnasium. the frigid night breeze felt like a breath of fresh air against your skin. you didn’t quite know where he was leading you until he was pulling a grey sports car passenger door open for you.
“after you madamè”. beomgyu says playfully, and roll your eyes and laugh at him because, well, he was an idiot.
you kind of felt like a rebel. normally, these kind of nights would consist of you and your friends getting something quick to eat, calling it a night and parting ways to go to your dorms. but now here you were, in choi beomgyu’s car riding along the beautiful dimly lit night streets with the wind sneaking trips through your hair.
the soft guitar melody of the indie music coarsed through the car, liturgical and heartfelt somehow making you feel as though you were in some scene out of a movie. except you knew you’d never be the main character in this kind of movie.
“so, you come here often?”. beomgyu questions jokingly while still clutching the steering wheel, the destination of you both still being a mystery to you.
“shut up beomgyu”. you laugh, “but if that’s your way of asking me my year and major, I’m a sophmore here. fashion design major”.
beomgyu nods in approval, “I can tell”.
you found that your occasional glance stealing of beomgyu became a full on heist at this point. how can someone be so attractive even behind a wheel?
“what’s that supposed to mean?”. you say playfully pretending to be offended.
“I mean, you dressed really nice to be going to just a game tonight. unless you had someone in mind”. beomgyu jokes once more.
you stifle the blush at your cheeks, “I didn’t, I’m nothing like my friends. I don’t dress to look good for guys, I do it for myself. I like looking and feeling beautiful”.
“with a face like yours you surely don’t need to dress up to look beautiful”. beomgyu mumbles under his breath, all of it sounding like nothing but mesh to your ears.
“huh?”.
“nothing. we’re here”.
you glance out of the front window to see this turquoise and pink colored, vintage looking diner. The vibrant blinking sign stood tall above it,
For the Time Being.
“after you madamè”. beomgyu says again opening the passenger door with his hand out. you take it regardless of his dorky remark. just because he was cute.
“where are your friends?”. you inquire, the diner being quite vacant with the exception of a few elderly couples here and there. you slide inside the sea green colored plush booth seat across from beomgyu.
“I don’t know, probably doing something else tonight”. he says casually before plucking up a menu and holding it just a little over his face. you smirk and tilt it down a little,
“I thought you said you and your friends hang out to celebrate?”.
“yeah you know--whether it be alone or all together”. beomgyu says way too quickly. he was getting so shy and timid, like a child when the meet santa claus for the first time.
“you’re neither alone or with them”.
“and maybe I lied”.
“why would you lie beomgyu?”.
because maybe I’m okay with celebrating even if it’s with you, beomgyu wanted to say. but he didn’t. instead it was the waiter who was saying anything, asking the both of you what drinks you’d like to start off with. the orders were given and the waiter quickly scurried off to fetch them.
“so I was thinking...”. beomgyu starts, “maybe you can post this stuff on snapchat or something to make it look real you know?”.
“I feel like if I post it I will seem, like desperate to them. It won’t look real at all”.
“why not? you can do that little thing girls do. you know the ‘On a date kind of nervous’ thing”. the both of you laugh at the idea.
“they’re going to think that I’m trying to flex if I do it. maybe you should do it. do you have them on snapchat?”.
“I’m not sure maybe I should check”. beomgyu mentions and pulls out his phone opening the snapchat app immediately.
the waiter diligently sits the beverages on the table in front of you, asking if you guys were ready to order. you settled on the idea of banana nut pancakes while beomgyu ordered a burger, fries and a strawberry milkshake. you wondered how he could be so skinny yet possess such a big appetite.
“I’m sure you do they practically stalk you on every social media platform there is”. you say with an eye roll.
“rayne, yara, and sage?”. beomgyu reads aloud. “yes that’s them”. at your confirmation, beomgyu presses the add back button on each of their names.
“so what are you going to post?”. you add, taking a sip of your lemonade.
beomgyu thinks for a split second before getting an idea. he slides his arm on the table. “here, put your hand in mine”. you steadily placed your hand on top of his and he angled his phone camera on them both. except he wasn’t quite satisfied at how hesitant your hand looked to be on his.
“can you hold my hand with more love please? sheesh. what are we? friends?”.
you laugh, snaking your fingers in between his. “fine then”.
“now look at me”.
your eyes immediately divert to beomgyu and he instantly starts making kissy faces and cooing at you like an idiot. you couldn’t help but to chuckle at his efforts. he quickly snaps the picture; a blurry POV picture, you were in the middle of laughing with your hands folded into his.
he posts it to his story with no hesitation.
but of course before he did that, he saved the picture to his phone.
just don’t tell anyone he did that.
“now we shall wait for their reactions”.
gratefully the food arrived to satisfy the hunger rumbling in your stomach. the pancakes looked and smelled delicious, maybe beomgyu was onto something by taking you here. you gave the waiter a small thank you before he went on his way.
“can I at least see the picture beomgyu? i want to know if it will make them jealous or not”.
“don’t worry it will”.
“how do I know?”.
“just trust me, it’s cute enough”. he assures squirting bucket loads of ketchup on his fries.
“if it’s cute enough then let me see”.
“you don’t need to see”. beomgyu laughs, he was really scared that you were going to tell him to delete it. he really loved the picture.
“please?”. you beg, beomgyu bit the inside of his cheeks.
“give me a piece of your pancake and I’ll let you see”.
“fine” you agree, cutting a perfect square. beomgyu opens his mouth. “ah!”. you roll your eyes airily and shoved a forkful in his mouth. he munches with his mouth full.
“now show me”.
“no you can’t make me”. he retorted and quickly hid his phone underneath himself. much too fast for you to see anyway. you looked under the table to see if he hid it there.
you wanted to look serious but the smile on your face said otherwise. “beomgyu i’m serious let me see the phone”.
“for what it’s just a picture”. he shrugged off biting into a fry. your eyes cut him down to size and you decided to make your way to his side of the table instead, towering over him for once.
“let me see”.
“you’d have to find my phone first”. he laughs. you realized the table and the seat was pretty vacant so there was only one place it would have to be. you start reaching underneath his lap and he’s trying his best to grab it making sure it was out of reach for you. as hard as you tried the both of you became a tangled mess with you unintentionally falling on top of beomgyu in the name of phone stealing.
he’s was busy laughing at your failure of retrieving it until you pick your head up and the both of your eyes lock; he realized you were straddling him. he immediately became turmoil on the inside.
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Reaching out to Loki
OKAY SO first and foremost I need to say I NEVER before have ever reached out to any deities other than the one God I follow religiously. This is a complete first time for me.
So a little starting information on this. I was talking with a family member who brought up that a certain female, of non relation but dating a man married in but then removed-father of a blood relation, was messaging my family members harassing them for things completely out of our families control and particularly not involving us in any way shape or form. The person that would be involved in these things is actually dead... for a long ass time now. This woman is running her mouth, insulting family members, blaming us for things we have nothing to do with, and consistently insulting a dead family member (ex of this man mentioned above, mother of their child). She has been told to stop on various occasions but simply hasn’t happened. I decide I’m going to break my promise to my Hubs and hex her. Not harmfully. I didn’t get his blessing but he will not stop me he said. The only reason being I plan on trying to make it as humorously as possible.
I discuss hex ideas across the board, all over social media. I decide to message a witch friend and see if she had any ideas. She suggested I call on Loki. Me… being me, thinks this is brilliant! Just the shenanigans he would love! I go to the store to buy some supplies to set up a small alter to attempt to communicate with him through. You know- green candle, some cinnamon incense, some jade. I came across a small chip of blue kyanite as well that I was very drawn to but not necessarily for me. I felt like I should give it to Loki and from what I remember reading about Loki is that he likes small trinkets and things of nonsense. I buy that too. Figured maybe he can cleanse himself with it after we do shenanigans if he agrees to work with me. Who doesn’t let friends shower at their homes? I get home and remember I had one more Redditor waiting for a tarot reading. I do the reading and send them their information. To close and cleanse my deck between readings I shuffle my cards after a reading. Here I am shuffling and boom! Two cards fly out!
The Star (r)- I need to not feel discouraged or despaired. I need to trust myself that I’m doing the right thing.
9 of Swords- I need to muster up the courage and realize this might not be as bad as I think it is for me to be hexing the person I’m going to be hexing.
I stop in my tracks. Am I talking with the God of Mischief?! I didn’t set anything up that I had planned to. How in the world is this happening right now. Did I just seriously focus on him that much while talking with my friend and shopping for him? I decide to ask out loud. If this is Loki, the one and only, pull a Major Arcana card. If it is not then pull a Minor Arcana. I started to shuffle. Within moments of shuffling the Wheel of Fortune pops out. I pick it up thinking it was just one card. Oh no. Three cards were right behind it perfectly aligned to where you could not tell it was more than one card at all. I spread these three out and read the message attached to Loki’s “Yes” response.
Page of Swords- This card describes the God, himself! Cunning, curious, witty, and clever but has a slight lack in the maturity department.
3 of Wands: Tells me right this moment is not the time to do things by myself. Success will come with cooperation and collaboration. I have a great opportunity in front of me and I need to make the most of it. I also need to put my trust in him as well as be open to his ideas.
2 of Wands: This is asking me to make a point blank decision on whether or not I’ll be taking Loki’s offer to work with him.
I decide WELL! If that ain’t a trick question if I ever heard one. What is a collaboration decision without discussing the terms… I ask if we can discuss terms and state if your answer is ‘yes’ pull a card in reverse, if ‘no’ pull one upright. I shuffle and no less than two seconds in a card falls out in reverse. He is quick with his answers.
I then realize I don’t know shit about making terms with a god because I’ve never worked with anyone other than the One High and Mighty. I don’t count talking to Metatron as technically ‘working’ with him. He is great. We have great conversations. He helps me. But there was never an instance like the one I’m about to embark on. I consider Metatron like a guardian angel since he sought me out and not vice versa. I asked if we can put this conversation off until I do some research on terms since I have no experience in it. I started to shuffle and IMMEDIATELY another card popped. It was a ‘yes’. I am officially in love with how much respect this god is showing me already. Then again, I did just go crazy looking for supplies just to even attempt to reach out with no real expectation of someone of his likeness to ever respond to me of all people. I told my friend about this whole conversation and I asked her how in the world would I summon him before I meant to summon him. She laughed at me and said I was talking to her about him earlier. She works with him. So... It was that simple. Now I need to research terms and conditions of working with gods so I can get this ball rolling!
IF ANYONE HAS ANY CUTE, HILARIOUS, NON-HARMFUL HEXES THEY’D LIKE TO SHARE PLEASE FEEL FREE TO DM ME, COMMENT HERE, ANYTHING! I WANT TO CREATE SOMETHING MAGNIFICENTLY FUNNY!
#witchy#witch#witch things#witchcraft#witchblr#loki#god of mischief#spiritual communication#spirit guides#alter#witch altar#deities#deity#tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot conversations#norse mythology#curse#norse pantheon#norse deities
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Back & Forth (4)
Maria Hill Masterlist
Series Masterlist
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
A/N: Not sure where I’m heading with this but I think I like it
The rest of your day was uneventful. You forgot to eat dinner since more people got injured during training thanks to one of the suits malfunctioning.
After having a talk with Tony about improving the suits, you went into your room and flopped down on the bed, making a mental note to eat something for breakfast before falling asleep.
The next morning, you had forgotten to set up your alarm clock. Instead of waking up at 7:30 so, you would have enough time to eat and shower before training. You woke up at 8:47. Cursing, you got out of bed and took a shower. Quickly throwing on some workout clothes which consisted of a dark grey tank top and black leggings, tying your hair into a high ponytail, and walking towards the gym.
It was almost 9:05 when you finally got to the gym. Maria wore a navy blue sports bra and matching leggings. You hurried in, trying not to stare at her as you set your things down on one of the benches in the gym.
“Sorry I’m late, I forgot to set my alarm clock and then I didn’t have enough time to eat so shit is a little chaotic today,” You apologized, licking your lips nervously before standing in front of your S/O.
“Language,” Steve chided, you rolled your eyes.
Before you could say something sarcastic to him, Maria started guiding you through stretches. Then, she started guiding you through a thought out gym routine. You never had time to go to the gym, so you mostly stuck with dieting and going on jogs when you could. The strain of working out was more than you had expected.
The entire time, you were trying to avoid staring at Maria. The sports bra showed off her toned stomach and her arms. The brunette didn't seem to notice your staring. But everyone else in the gym noticed. You could tell by their knowing smirks and winks towards you.
“A little too much for you?” Maria teased when you were on your 8th rep of sit-ups.
You rolled your eyes and glared at her, determined to make it through. The rest of the workout was more straining than you thought it would be. Especially with Maria forcing you to push yourself during every single exercise. In the middle of it, your stomach let out a large growl, you poked it aggressively to try to get it to be quiet, even though you knew it wouldn’t do anything.
Maria frowned and asked you if you had eaten, voice laced with concern.
“Only breakfast, it’s not that bad,” You shrugged, sitting down on the bench and taking a sip of water.
“We didn’t see you at dinner yesterday,” Steve pointed out, you glared at him.
“Y/n,” Maria began, her tone stern as she crossed her arms across her chest.
You raised an eyebrow and fanned yourself with your tank top. Putting your water bottle down, you stood up.
“I was busy, there were injured people.” You defended, walking over to the jogging machine where Steve was.
Maria took your elbow and turned you around. Surprised, you faced her stern expression.
“You need to eat,” The brunette advised, you winced and pulled out of her hold.
“Later, you said to yourself, I need to train.” You argued, but Maria wasn’t having it.
“What you need to do is eat,” Maria scolded, you rolled your eyes.
“I’m used to it, can we just finish this?” You asked, almost pleading at this point.
Maria considered it but shook her head, leading you to the kitchen. You cursed under your breath, following the brunette towards the kitchen when an intern interrupted you.
“Ms. Strange, could I, um, could you help me with something?” She asked.
You turned to see a college student, no older than 23, with blonde hair, bright hazel eyes, slim features. She wore a black crop top and jeggings. You nodded and smiled, turning to Maria to ask.
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” You guided the intern over to your office, assuming she needed help with her term paper.
After an hour, the intern left from your office, happy after you had edited her final paper. Just when you were about to meet Maria in the kitchen, one of the students learning from Helen Cho started asking you questions about the regeneration cradle she had in the medical bay.
Before you could deny them, the student dragged you over to the medical bay. Cho had asked her to run the cradle on one of the officers injured yesterday. But the student, Sophie, knew if she did anything wrong she would be fired. So she asked you for help.
It would have been done sooner if Sophie would have stopped flirting with you. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, the opposite. But you could care less about her antics, she was older than most of the students Helen was teaching, which must be why she was trusted with the cradle.
Before you could respond to another question, Maria stood in the doorway almost glaring at you and Sophie. You shrugged, gesturing to Sophie, blaming her for your delayed meal. Your S/O instructed the student leave, you assured her you would finish the assignment since there wasn’t much left to do and you didn’t want to deal with her whining if Cho didn’t pass her.
“Jealous much?” You asked once Sophie had left to ask someone else for help.
Maria blushed, but she hid it well, clenching her jaw and sitting down next to the cradle. You started talking to her as you worked, stating the cradle should only take another 5 minutes before you could leave. The brunette was hesitant to answer, your interaction from yesterday still playing in her head.
Maria owed you an apology, but she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. She had planned the apology in her room, planning to apologize once you were free. Biting her lip, she called your name once you were done with the assignment.
You hummed, filling out a form for the officer and glancing up at her.
“I, um, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday,” Maria apologized, looking down at the ground as she tried not to fidget.
“See, that wasn’t that hard,” You teased, the brunette looked up in confusion.
“Oh come on, anyone could see something was bothering you.” You laughed at her expression, leading her out of the medical bay and into the kitchen.
Maria frowned at how easily you read her, she was supposed to be one of the top agents at SHIELD, almost impossible to read. But somehow, you managed to do it effortlessly. Leading her into the kitchen, you started putting a pan on the stove and heating it, taking some eggs out of the fridge, and offering to make her some french toast.
“Depends, are you as good at cooking as you are punctual?” Maria asked, you laughed and cracked an egg into a small bowl.
“I’m better at cooking than being punctual,” You laughed, mixing the egg with a whisk.
“Guess being late runs in the Strange family,” Maria commented, but she noticed how you flinched when she said, family.
“Did I say something wrong?” She asked, scared she had hurt you again. You shook your head, waving her off.
“No you’re fine, I’m adopted, just thought you might want to know,” You began pouring the egg mixture on a few slices of bread.
Even though you were their family, the topic was still a bit sensitive. Your brother and your parents often got angry with you whenever you were insecure about this. But you couldn’t help it, especially when you saw comments on social media about how you just got lucky to be in a family of doctors.
“It didn’t say that on your file,” Maria muttered, you shrugged and put the bread on the pan.
“That would be my brother’s fault, it should say legally adopted but he took that out,” You explained, chuckling to yourself.
You changed the topic quickly, choosing to talk about anything else except for your family. Maria noticed but decided not to push you about it. She had already hurt you once, she didn’t want to do it again. After you finished making her french toast, you handed it to her and started making your own.
Playing some music on your phone, you smiled when your favorite song started playing through the room. You started humming while Maria was talking, dancing a little while cooking. The song was catchier and more descriptive of your situation than ever.
Pleasantly surprised at how the french toast had turned out, Maria started digging into it while you bantered about the students that had been pestering you all morning. When you started talking about Sophie and her flirting, Maria couldn’t help her anger.
Students weren’t supposed to go out with the Avengers, technically there wasn’t a rule. You could have if you wanted to, Maria didn’t understand her jealousy towards Sophie. You weren’t hers to start with, there was no reasonable explanation as to why she was jealous.
“Something wrong S/O?” You asked, sitting down next to her with your french toast.
“Hm? Nothing.” Maria answered, a little too quickly for her liking.
“If you say so,” You muttered, starting to eat.
Before you could start another conversation, Maria went to put her dishes into the dishwasher and changed the conversation.
“Is there anything you need to do for today?” Maria asked you shrugged while eating.
Clearing your throat, you browsed through your calendar in case there was anything important. Seeing as there was nothing but miscellaneous chores, you shook your head.
“Just need to get my suit,” You answered, “Why?”
“Well, I was going to suggest we train your powers, but it seems like there’s not much I can train there,” Maria answered, you laughed.
“Unless you want to take me to Kamar-Taj,” you joked, seeing the confusion on Maria’s face you waved her off.
“So it looks like I have a whole day with my S/O,” You joked, sliding off the barstool and putting your dishes into the dishwasher.
Maria clenched her jaw, trying to avoid the blush creeping onto her face. You giggled at her expression, leaning back against the counter.
“Not the entire day,” Tony commented from behind you, almost giving you a heart attack.
“When the hell did you get here?” You demanded, handheld over your heart. Maria cackled behind you, your face when you heard Tony behind you was hilarious.
“Just before you started flirting with Ms. Hill here,” Tony answered, a cocky smirk on his face
Before either of you could say anything in your defense, he waved you off.
“There’s a party later this week since Thor is coming back from Asgard, I want both of you to be there,” Tony instructed, you almost groaned.
“How does that have anything to do with today?” You asked, confused.
“Outfits? I can’t have both of you looking like this when you come there,” Tony explained, you rolled your eyes.
“What’s wrong with this?” You complained, Tony laughed and left both of you in the kitchen.
“Well, guess we’re going shopping together,” You commented, turning to face Maria.
The brunette clenched her jaw, unsure of what was to come. Maria followed you out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms to get changed for the shopping trip.
| Part 5 |
Buy me a coffee?
A/N: Hope you like it too, tell me what you think!
Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!
#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x female reader#marvel x female!reader#marvel x fem reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n#marvel imagine#marvel one shot#maria hill#maria hill x reader#maria hill x female reader#maria hill x female!reader#maria hill x fem reader#maria hill x you#maria hill x y/n#maria hill imagine#maria hill one shot#cobie smulders#my writing#my fic#MYC’s writing
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Which bar was that 10yr challenge Cockles picture taken from? Cause people are saying cockles were there at that bar for the spn Xmas party and it wasn’t just the two of them
Hi friend!
Listen, if I knew which exact bar those two went to and took a candlelit picture at I’d be there all the fucking time just on the off chance that they might show up. Heck, if I’m ever in Vancouver when they are I might just rush around to different candlelit bars on the off chance. So I don’t know where they took it.
But your real question is one I got–in a consistently panicked tone–from other anons here so I’ll address it. Were Jensen and Misha maybe not on a date at all but actually just sitting very close together at a candlelit table taking a ten-year anniversary pic and tagging it on social media…when there were other cast and crew (including Jared around) in the restaurant??? PERISH THE THOUGHT!!!
I jest, anon, and I get why y’all are worrying b/c the inevitable backlash of people being like “your joy is too much, Cockles shippers! for God’s sake, cut back on the joy!” is unpleasant. But here’s the thing, friends: it doesn’t matter. Yes, we’d like to imagine maybe it was the night of the three least ordered items and it’s at an overtly datelike and romantic location and it was just them but…if it was the two of them cozying up at a cast party that’s…not a problem. It doesn’t invalidate the romance of it or our happiness.
What makes the whole thing romantic is the way it happened, not whether anyone they knew was nearby. Say it was at a holiday cast party both times (maybe one held in the same location in 2009 and 2019, hence the caption). That STILL means that 1) Jensen took the first pic of them; 2) Jensen SAVED the first pic of them, either across multiple phones, or in the cloud, or (as I speculated) by printing it out; 3) Jensen remembered the anniversary of that picture; 4) Jensen thought to recreate that picture and asked Misha to; 5) Jensen decided to post it to social media with a sentimental caption. The fact is that that shit is fucking romantic and it doesn’t matter one bit whether their castmates were at the same event. In fact, maybe it’s WORSE! Imagine Jensen pulling Misha away from a party to recreate this photo he has on his phone…so much more obvious, in a way, then doing it if they just went to dinner together.
I actually believe the photos are both from cast and crew Christmas parties! For one thing, I think Misha is wearing that same checked shirt that you can see in this photo where they are doing…whatever it is they’re doing:
Looks like it to me! (Kudos to @jensensitive for having that other xmas party photo on hand.) Sure, it’s later in the night so they are drunker and sweatier and have some seriously blown pupils, let’s be real, but that’s the same shirt and even though Misha likes to recycle it’s sufficiently…distinctive that makes sense.
ETA: @jensensitive says it’s a different shirt and def not from the party...she’s probably right, since she is about most things, and the check looks narrower (which isn’t something, like the colors, that could really be affected by lighting and filters). I’ll let you fashionistas decide for yourself. But my original point that the presence of other people at a cast party where this picture may have een taken does not invalidate its romantic context totally stands.
You know what else makes sense? Jensen being able to remember the date and the place b/c there was a party there and because after the party…maybe…something happened between them. (Or maybe it happened before. Or maybe not yet. This is all conjecture and headcanoning and I hope you all know that!) All I’m saying is that if you’ve been trying to work up the nerve to hit on your coworker who you’ve already spent a year being fascinated with what better chance to do it than at the office Christmas party? (Plus Cockles historians know) some tension between them was evident in the moment captured above and the whole emcee act that they did that it is taken from.)
To recap and reassure, then, I’d go one better on your question and say that yes, it’s more than possible both times were at the SPN cast and crew holiday party or afterparty. That’s why Jensen could confirm things like the date, location, and table. And that fact makes zero difference to how sentimental and romantic it is to recreate the photo and post it in that particular way. I would certainly believe you if you told me this was also an anniversary for them because it provided a catalyst to take their flirtation into something else…but that also doesn’t HAVE to be true to make it romantic. (Also: this would mean that the “three least ordered items” story is from a DIFFERENT NIGHT, probably the previous year, and that means they have multiple romantic night stories and we are all dead.)
I hope that helps you, Nonnie, and all my other Anon friends who are worried. Please continue to enjoy this photo and its aftermath in whatever style you feel most appropriate!
#asks#cockles#soft boys#actual husbands#cockles csi#happy anniversary jenmish!#cockles meta#kinda#cockles headcanons#vintage cockles#baby cockles#soft jensen#jensen feels#team dumpster mansion#rps for ts
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